The cunning Northerne Begge [...] VVho all the By-standers doth earnestly pray, To bestow a penny upon him to day. To the tune of Tom of Bedlam.
I Am a lu
[...]y begger,
and live by others giving,
I scorne to worke,
But by the highway lurke,
And beg to get my living:
I'le 'ith wind and weather,
And wear
[...] all ragged Garments.
Yet though I'm bare,
I'm frée from care,
A fig for high preferments.
For still will I cry good your worship good sir,
Bestow one poore denier sir:
Which when I've got
At the Pipe and Pot,
I soone will it cash
[...]ere sir.
I ha
[...]e my shifts about me,
Like
Prote
[...]s
[...]ften changing
My
[...] I will,
I
[...] still,
Ab
[...]t the Country ranging:
As
[...] I
[...] C
[...]atch s
[...]e,
Or
[...] by
[...] riging,
I take my Cr
[...]tch,
And
[...] Co
[...]ch,
[...] I lay abi
[...]ing.
And still doe I cry, &c.
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
I am a poore old Souldier,
And better times once viewed,
Though here now I goe,
Yet many a
[...]oe,
By me hath b
[...]n subdued.
And therefore I cry, &c.
Although I nere was further
Then K
[...]tish stréet in Southwarke,
Nor
[...]re did sée
A B
[...]t
[...]ry
Made against any Balwarke,
But with my Tr
[...]lls and Doxes,
Lay in some corn
[...]r lurking,
and ne
[...]
[...]nt abroad
B
[...]t to beg on the road,
To kéepe my selfe from working.
And alwaies to cry, &c.
Anon I'm like a saylor,
And weare old Canvas cloathing,
And then I say
The Dunke
[...]ks away,
Tooke all and left me nothing:
Sixe ships set all upon us,
'Gainst which wée bravely ventur'd,
And long withstood,
Yet could doe no good,
Our ship at length they enter'd.
And therefore I cry good your worship good sir
Bestow one poore denier sir:
which when I've got,
at the pipe and por, &c.
The second part, To the same tune.
SOmetime I like a Criple
Upon the ground lye crawling,
for money I begge,
as wanting a legge
To beare my corps from falling,
Then séeme I weake of body,
And long t'have béene diseased,
And make complaint,
As ready to faint,
And of my griefes increased,
And faintly I cry good your worship good, sir
[...]
Bestow one poore desire sir,
which when I've got,
at the Pipe and Pot,
I soone will it casheere sir.
My flesh I so can t
[...]mper,
That it shall séeme to
[...]eister,
And looke all or'e,
Like a raw sore,
Whereon I stic
[...]s a
[...]ai
[...]er.
With blood I
[...] then,
To faigne the
[...]alling
[...],
That
[...] place
They pitty my case,
As if it came throuh weakenesse.
And then I doe cry, &c.
Then as if my sight I wanted,
A Boy doth walke beside me,
Or else I doe
Grope as I goe,
Or have a Dog to guide me:
And when I'm thus accounted,
To th' highway sid
[...] I hye me,
and there I stand
with cords in my hand,
And beg of all comes nye me.
And earnestly, cry good your worship good sir
Bestow one poore denier, &c.
Next to some Country fellow,
I presently am turned,
And
[...] alack
[...]
With a child at my back,
My house and goods were burned:
Then me my Doxes followes,
Who for my wifes believed,
and along we
[...]two
together goe,
With such mischances grieved.
And still w
[...] doe cry good your worship, &c.
What though I cannot labour,
Shall I therefore pine with hanger
No, rather than I
[...]here I lye?
I'l
[...] b
[...]g of th
[...] money monger,
[...] troubl
[...]
My m
[...]nde, nor
[...] me,
[...]
[...]
[...]Twill
[...]ut a w
[...]ite disp
[...]ea
[...] me,
And still
[...] wi
[...] try good your worship good
[...]
Be
[...]w one, &c.
No tricks at all shall scape me,
But I will by my maunding,
Get some reliefe
To ease my griefe,
When by the highway standing:
Tis better be a Begger,
And aske of kind good fellowes,
A rid honestly have
What we doe crave,
then steale and goe to'th' Gallowes:
Therefore Ile cry good your worshi
[...] good sir,
Bestowe one poore denier sir.
Which wher
[...]
At the
[...].
I soone will it cash
[...]
Printed at London for F. Coules.