Page 46 [Supp. p. 7]. _If you will give ear._
A version of this, slightly differing, is given with the music in _Pills to p. Mell._, iv. 191. It has the final couplet; which we borrow and add in square brackets.
Page 61 [Supp. 9]. _Full forty times over._
Earlier by six years, but without the Answer, this had appeared in _Wit and Drollery_, 1656, p. 58; 1661, p. 60. It is also, as “written at Oxford,” in second part of _Oxford Drollery_, 1671, p. 97.
Page 62 [Supp. 11]. _He is a fond Lover_, &c.
This, and the preceding, being superior to the other reserved songs might have been retained in the text but for the need to fill a separate sheet. This Answer is in _Love and Mirth_ (i.e. _Sportive Wit_) 1650, p. 51.
Page 64 [Supp. 12]. _If any one do want a House._
Virtually the same (from the second verse onward) as “A Tenement to Let,” beginning “I have a Tenement,” &c., in _Pills to p. Mel._, 1720, vi. 355; and _The Merry Musician_ (n. d. but about 1716), i. 43. Music in both.
Page 81 [Supp. 13]. _Fair Lady, for your New, &c._
Resembling this is “_Ladies, here I do present you, With a dainty dish of fruit_,” in _Wit and Drollery_, 1656, p. 103.
Page 103 [244]. _Among the Purifidian Sect._
In Harl. MS. No. 6057, fol. 47. There it is entitled “The Puritans of New England.”
Page 106 [248]. _Come hither, my own sweet Duck._
We come delightedly, as a relief, upon this racy and jovial Love-song, which redeems the close of the volume. It has the gaiety and _abandon_ of John Fletcher’s and Richard Brome’s. We have never yet met it elsewhere. It was probably written about 1642. The reserved song in Part i., p. 153 (Supplement, p. 3), seems to be a vile parody on it, in the coarse fashion of those persons who disgraced the cause of the Cavaliers. The rank and file were often base, and their brutality is evidenced in the songs which we have been obliged to degrade to the Supplement.
It was certainly popular before 1659, for we find it quoted as furnishing the tune to “A proper new ballad (25 verses) on the Old Parliament,” beginning “Good Morrow, my neighbours all,” with a varying burden:—
_Hei ho, my hony,_ _My heart shall never rue,_ _Four and twenty now for your Mony,_ _And yet a hard penny worth too._