A pleasant new song that plainely doth show,
that all are Beggers, both high and low,
A meane estate let none despise:
for tis not Money that makes man wise.
To the tune of Cuckolds all a row.
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COme cease your songs of Cuckolds row
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for now tis somthing stale,
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And let us sing of Beggers now,
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For thats in generall,
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In City and in Country,
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men from high to low,
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In each degree or quality,
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Are Beggers all a row.
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How many men are there that live,
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and doe no good at all?
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And such had rather spend, then give
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to them that live in thrall,
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Lose a hundred at a cast,
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as much at the next throw,
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But what comes of them at the last,
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Beggers all a row.
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Some countrey Lads that backward thrives,
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left with a large estate,
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Weary of those countrey lives,
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they have enough of that:
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The countrey then the City courts,
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a countrey life's too low,
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For here are many tricks and sports,
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makes Beggers all a row.
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First for a Coach and horses,
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theres one reversion flies,
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[?]conds f[o]r new Fashions,
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[?]nities,
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[?] Maid and Man,
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[?]e growes low,
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[?]ch for a Sedan,
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[Beggars all a row.]
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I saw a handsome proper youth,
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and he was wonderous fine,
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But when I understood the truth,
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his case was worse then mine,
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On wine and Drabs, he did all spend,
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which wrought his overthrow,
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So fortune plac'd him in the end,
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with Beggers all a row,
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I have a Mistris of mine owne,
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that beares a lofty spirit,
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Though gold and silver she hath none
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nor any good demerit,
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Yet will she brave it with the best,
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whereever she doth goe,
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And be at every Gossips feast,
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with Beggers all a row.
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But of all Beggers he's the worst,
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that doth complaine he's poore:
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And evermore shall be accurst,
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that starves in midst of store,
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Let Usurers therefore take heed,
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least to the Devill they goe,
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That doe complaine before they neede,
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with Beggers all a row[.]
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Gilbert loves the Ale-house well,
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Dick will not be behind,
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Jane and Tib, and bonny Nell,
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are to each other kind,
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For two full pots, come let us joyne
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although our states be low,
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My money still shall goe with thin[?]
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Begge[rs all a r]ow.
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The second part, To the same tune.
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IN faith my Landlord is not paid,
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and what care I for that,
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My Grannam she hath often said,
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that care will kill a Cat,
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Come fill us tother Pot good Boy,
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and then in troth weele goe,
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Come neighbour why are you so coy,
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we are Beggers all a row.
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Jone hath paund her band of Lawne,
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and Tom his fudling Cap,
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Ralph hath laid his Cloke to pawne,
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for to maintaine the Tap,
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The Ale-house thriveth best I see,
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this all the world doth know,
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So here good fellow here's to thee,
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Beggers all a row.
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I have another Teaster yet,
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and cannot be content,
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I cannot rest nor quiet sit,
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till all my money be spent,
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Too much money makes men mad,
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the proverb plaine doth show,
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And want of mony makes men sad,
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and Beggers all a row.
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The bloudy fight moves me to wrath,
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between [?] Dutch and Spaine,
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I gladly [?] would know the truth,
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who [?] fight did gaine,
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The D[utch a]ttempted as its knowne,
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the S[pani]ard's overthrowe,
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No bo[th o]f them may make their moane,
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w'are [be]ggers all a row.
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A Country man did sell his Nagge,
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three Heafers, and a Bull,
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And brought to towne a Canvas bag,
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with writings filled full,
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But all the money that he had
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the Lawyer puld it too,
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Alasse poore man thy cause is bad,
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Beggers all a row.
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Two men did passe their words of late
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for a Knave as I did heare,
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They paid the debt, and broke their state
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for he would not appeare,
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Let others take example then,
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lest they themselves overthrow,
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Today they may be gentlemen,
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then Beggers all a row.
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I that made this song of late,
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have well observed the time,
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Ide rather live in meane estate,
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then higher seeke to climbe,
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My money is my lackie-boy,
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I send him too and fro,
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Sweet content I doe injoy,
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with Beggers all a row.
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He that begges an almes of heaven,
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cannot complaine he's poore,
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His daily Bread, is daily given,
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what can he wish for more?
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Thus all are Beggers every day,
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all both high and low,
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In this we may conclude and say,
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w'are Beggers all a row.
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