The Downfall of Pride. Riband-Cod-pieses, Black-patches, and whatsoever is Antick, apish, fantastick, and dishonourable to a civil Government.
To the Tune of,
Bragandary.
A Ballad, a Ballad, lets make in hast,
a Ballad lets make with spéed,
Let every Poet make a verse,
for there never was more néed
Men and women are out of their wits,
Possessed with strange frantick fits,
O people, monsterous people,
What do you mean to do?
Some carry about them every day,
a
Habberdashers shop,
Like Puppets in a Puppet-Play,
about the stréets they hop;
Iust against the place of lust,
With gawdy Ribbons they are trust,
O men, monsterous men,
What do you mean to do?
Some women sometimes use to wear,
black Patches on their face,
What ever of themselves they think,
'tis but to their disgrace:
They make themselves with those fond toyes,
A laughing stock to girles and boyes,
O women, monsterous women
What do you mean to do?
The civill Souldiers laugh at ye,
to sée you so disguis'd,
And I do hope to live to sée,
Pride not so highly priz'd,
Costly Baubles you have store,
But never a penny for the poore,
O people, monsterous people
what do you mean to do?
If that the fashion should be now
great Garlands for to wear
As
Paris-garden Buls have done,
our people would not forbear:
they would wear them about their necks
To pride they give such great respects,
O people, monsterous people
what do you mean to do?
Or if the fashion should be now,
As I may well suppose,
That points and Ribbons should be worn
in men and womens nose,
Pride would quickly have it so,
That they like Anticks thus might go,
O people, monsterous people
what do you mean to do.
The second Part,
to the same Tune.
OR if the fashion should be now,
on shooes to wear great beads,
Or if some people should but wear
hand-baskets on their heads:
The rest wil follow them I know
that they like Coxcombs thus might go
O people, monsterous people
what do you mean to do?
Or if the fashion should be thus
to wear the ears of Pigs,
In womens breasts or on their heads
As men wear Perrywigs:
Pride wil give that fashion place,
The Pigs would go to wrack a pace,
O people, monsterous people
what do you mean to do?
Curled locks are daily sold
to women for to wear,
An ugly sight for to behold.
'to sée them wear false hair,
Women and men fantastick Elves,
Know not what to wear themselves,
O people, &c,
Men with white Powder, powder their hair
they look like Millers right
What coulor soever their clothes are
the Powder makes them white:
Boots they wear with a picket-toe,
Stradling through the stréets they go,
O men, &c.
Our Ancestors were civill men
As we may read and hear;
Though they were men of good account,
would leather shoo-strings wear,
Their hands unto their shirts were sown
But now we are more gallant grown,
O people, monsterous people
what do you mean to do.
A Leather-Girdle about their waste,
as plain as plain may be,
An honest heart within their brest,
from guile and falshood frée?
No Bils nor Bonds betwixt them then,
But now we live more like Devils then men
O people, monsterous people,
what do you mean to do?
What I have said good people all
is mearly out of love,
I do desire that great and smal
may fear the Lord above:
That cruelty and pride may cease,
And that we may injoy true peace.
That Pride may be o'rethrown,
And charity take place.
FINIS.
London Printed for Francis Grove on Snow-hill.
H.C.