The Dame of honour/The Dame of honour

The DAME of HONOUR.

SInce now the world’s turn’d upside down,
and all things chang'd in nature;
As if a doubt was newly grown,
we had the same Creator:
Of ancient modes and former ways,
I'll teach you, Sirs, the manner,
In good Queen Befs’s golden days,
when I was Dame of Honour.

I had an ancient noble seat,
tho’ now 'tis come to ruin;
Where mutton, beef, and such good meat,
in th’ hall were daily chewing:
Of humming beer, my cellar full,
I was the yearly donor:
Where topping knaves had made a pull,
when I was Dame of Honour.

My men with home-spun honest greys,
had coats and homely badges;
They wore no dirty ragged lace,
nor ne'er complain’d of wages:
For gaudy fringe and silks o’th' town,
I fear'd no threat'ning Dunner;
But wore a decent grogram gown,
when I was Dame of Honour.

I never thought Cantharides
ingredients good in posset:
Nor never stript me to my stays,
to play at punk and ballet:
In Ratafia ne’er made debauch,
nor reell'd like topping Gunner,
Nor let my Mercer seize my coach,
when I was Dame of Honour.

I still preserv’d my maiden fame,
in spite of oaths and lying;
Tho' many a long-chin’d younker came,
and fain would be enjoying:
My fan to guard my lips I kept,
from Cupid’s loud o’er-runner,
And many a Roman-nose I rapp’d,
when I was Dame of Honour.

My curling locks I never bought
of beggar's dirty daughters;
Nor prompted by a wanton thought,
above knee ty’d my garters;
I never glow’d with painted pride,
like Punk when the Devil has won her,
Nor prov’d a cheat to be a bride,
when I was Dame of Honour.

My neighbours still I treated round,
and strangers that came near me;
The poor too always welcome found,
whose pray’rs did still endear me:
Let therefore who at court would be
no churl, nor yet no fawner,
Match in old hospitality
Queen Bess's Dame of Honour.