The cunning Northerne Begger,
Who all the By-standers doth earnestly pray,
To bestow a penny upon him today.
To the tune of Tom of Bedlam.
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I Am a lusty begger,
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and live by others giving,
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I scorne to worke,
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But by the highway lurke,
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And beg to get my living:
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I'le 'ith wind and weather,
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And weare all ragged Garments.
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Yet though I'm bare,
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I'm free from care,
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A fig for high preferments.
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For still will I cry good your worship good sir,
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Bestow one poore denier sir:
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Which when I've got
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At the Pipe and Pot,
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I soone will it casheere sir.
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I have my shifts about me,
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Like Proteus often changing
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My shape when I will,
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I alter still,
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About the Country ranging:
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As soone as I a Coatch see,
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Or Gallants by come riging,
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I take my Crutch,
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And rouse from my Couch,
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Whereas I lay abiding.
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A[n]d still doe I cry, etc.
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[Now] like a wandring Souldier
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[(That] has 'ith warres bin maymed,
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With the shot of a Gunne)
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To Gallants I runne,
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[An]d begg sir helpe the lamed,
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I am a poore old Souldier,
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And better times once viewed,
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Though bare now I goe,
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Yet many a foe,
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By me hath bin subdued.
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And therefore I cry, etc.
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Although I nere was further
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Then Kentish street in Southwarke,
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Nor ere did see
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A Battery
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Made against any Bulwarke,
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But with my Trulls and Doxes,
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Lay in some corner lurking,
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and nere went abroad
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But to beg on the road,
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To keepe myeselfe from working.
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And alwaies to cry, etc.
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Anon I'm like a saylor,
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And weare old Canvas cloathing,
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And then I say
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The Dunkerks away,
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Tooke all and left me nothing:
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Sixe ships set all upon us,
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'Gainst which wee bravely ventur'd,
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And long withstood,
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Yet could doe no good,
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Our ship at length they enter'd.
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And therefore I cry good your worship good sir
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Bestow one poore denier sir:
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which when I've got,
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at the pipe and pot, etc.
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The second part, To the same tune.
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SOmetime I like a Criple
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Upon the ground lye crawing,
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for money I begge,
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as wanting a legge
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To beare my corps from faling,
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Then seeme I weake of body,
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And long t'have beene diseased
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And make complaint,
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As ready to faint,
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And of my griefes increased,
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And faintly I cry good your worship good, sir,
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Bestow one poore desire sir,
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which when I've got,
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at the Pipe and Pot,
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I soone will it casheere sir.
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My flesh I so can temper,
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That it shall seeme to feister,
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And looke all or'e,
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Like a raw sore,
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Whereon I sticke a plaister.
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With blood I daub my face then,
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To faigne the falling sicknesse,
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That in every place
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They pitty my case,
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As if it came through weakenesse.
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And then I doe cry, etc.
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Then as if my sight I wanted,
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A Boy doth walke beside me,
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Or else I doe
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Grope as I goe,
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Or have a Dog to guide me:
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And when I'm thus accounted,
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To th' highwayside I hye me,
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and there I stand
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with cords in my hand,
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And beg of all comes nye me.
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And earnestly, cry good your worship good sir
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Bestow one poor denier etc.
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Next to some Country fellow,
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I presently am turned,
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And cry alacke
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With a child at my back,
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My house and goods were burned:
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Then me my Doxes followes,
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Who for my wifes believed,
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and along wee two
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together goe,
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With such mischances grieved.
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And still we doe cry good your worship, etc.
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What though I cannot labour,
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Shall I therefore pine with hunger
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No, rather then I
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Will starve where I lye?
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I'le beg of the money monger,
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No other care shall trouble
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My minde, nor griefe disease me,
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Though sometime the stash
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I get, or the lash,
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but a while displease me,
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And still I will cry good your worship good sir
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Bestow one, etc.
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No tricks at all shall scape me,
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But I will by my maunding,
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Get some reliefe
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To ease my griefe,
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When by the highway standing:
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Tis better be a Begger,
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And aske of kind good fellowes,
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And honestly have
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What we doe crave,
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then steale and goe to'th' Gallowes:
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Therefore 'Ile cry good your worship good sir,
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Bestowe one poore denier sir.
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Which when I've got
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At the Pipe and Pot,
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I soone will it casheere sir.
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