Page:Merry Drollery Complete 1670.djvu/127

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Complete.
127
Take books and rent ’um, who would invent ’um,
When as the Sword replies, negatur argumentum?
Your grand Colledge Butlers muſt ſtoop to your ſutlers,
There’s not a Library living like the cutlers;
The bloud that is ſpilt, ſir, hath gaind all the guilt, ſir,
Thus have you ſeen me run the Sword up to the hilts Sir.


A Medly of Nations.
The Scots.
I am a bonny Scot, Sir, my name is mickle John,
’Twas I was in the Plot, Sir, when firſt the war begun:
I left the Court one thouſand ſix hundred forty one,
But ſince the flight at Woſter-fight we all are undone;
I ſerv’d my Lord & Maſter, when as he lig’d at home,
Our Cauſe did ſhrink, Gods bread, I think
  The Deel’s got in his room:
He no man fears, but ſtamps and ſtares
  Through all Chriſtendom.
I have travell’d mickle ground
Since I came from Worceſter Pound,
I have gang’d a galland round
  Through all our neighbouring Nations,
And what their opinions are
Unto you I ſhall declare,

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