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Don Manuel directed a look at the delinquent organ, in expectation of seeing it convulsed by all the agonies of remorse, or at least blushing a repentant crimson. But nothing of the kind followed. Far from being downcast, the object of his wrath, though nearly breathless from laughter, was loud in praises of his taste.

"Very good, indeed," it said. "Where it ends'-capital! Really you are so amusing to-night, Don Manuel, that I must reward you by showing where it ends."

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So saying, the unknown raised her hand to her head, and quick as thought the nose fell from its place, and lay on the table before our hero. How shall we paint his confusion and desperation of mind as he gazed on the astounding sight, and recalled the rudeness and unfeeling discourtesy of his previous conduct?

"Pecador de mi!" he exclaimed, "it is of pasteboard-it is false, and the real one is not less perfect than the other features of her face. Oh, Señorita!" burst from his lips in the most penitent accents, and rushing forward, he was proceeding to throw himself at her feet to sue for pardon, to bewail his indiscretion in the most abject terms within the reach of language; but a gesture of impatience on the part of the unknown, blasted all his hopes. Rising from her seat, and taking the arm of her companion, she quitted the room with a slow and dignified step, very unlike the former precipitate retreat of Don Manuel, of whom she took no farther notice than by coldly bestowing on him a repelling "beso á usted la mano."

If for the rest of the night our hero wandered he knew not where, with no clear perception of anything; and if, on courting repose, he dreamt of being stabbed to the heart by a sabre-like nose, which, as he gasped his last, changed into a lovely ballet-dancer, who made his dying frame its stage, and indulged in pirouettes on the extreme tip of his own nasal feature; though his medical adviser might ascribe such unwholesome visions to indigestion, yet it is more probable that the origin of his malady might be traced to the Lonja of Seville.

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Merrie England in the olden Time;

or, pereGRINATIONS WITH UNCLE TIM AND MR. BOSKY, OF LITTLE BRITAIN, DRYsAlter.

BY GEORGE DANIEL.

"Dost thou think because thou art virtuous there shall be no more cakes and ale?"-SHAKSPEARE.

CHAPTER XVI.

"My friends,"-continued Mr. Bosky, after an approving smack of the lips, "Heaven bless his honour!" and " Thanks, my kind mistress! many happy returns of St. Bartlemy!" had testified the ballad-singer's hearty relish and gratitude for the refreshing draught over which he had just suspended his well-seasoned nose,1 -"never may the mouths be stopped (except with a cup of good liquor) of these musical itinerants, from whose harmonious doggrel a curious history of men and manners might be gleaned, to humour the anti-social disciples of those devout publicans who substituted their discordant nasal twang for the solemn harmony of cathedral music; who altered St. Peter's phrase, the Bishop of your souls,' into the Elder (!!) of your souls;' for thy kingdom come,' brayed 'thy Commonwealth come!' and smuggled the water into their rumpuncheons, which they called wrestling with the spirit, and making the enemy weaker ! Show me the popular ballads of the time, and I will show you the temper and taste of the people.' I delight in a

2

1 Thom: Brewer, my Mus: Servant, through his proneness to good fellowshippe, having attained to a very rich and rubicund nose, being reproved by a friend for his too frequent use of strong drinkes and sacke, as very pernicious to that distemper and inflammation in his nose. Nay, faith,' says he, if it will not endure sacke, it is no nose for me.'"-L'Estrange, No. 578. Mr. Jenkins.

2" Robin Conscience," an ancient ballad, (suggested by Lydgate's “London Lack. penny,") first printed at Edinburgh in 1683, gives a curious picture of London tradesmen, &c. Robin goes to Court, but receives cold welcome; thence to Westminster Hall. "It were no great matter," quoth the lawyers, "if Conscience quite were knock'd on th' head." He visits Smithfield, and discovers how the "horse-coursers" artfully coerce their "lame jades" to "run and kick." Then Long Lane, where the brokers hold conscience to be " but nonsense." The butterwomen of Newgate market claw him, and the bakers brawl at him. At Pye Corner, a cook, glancing at him "as the Devil did look o'er Lincoln," threatens to spit him. The salesmen of Snow Hill would have stoned him; the "fish-wives" of Turn-again Lane rail at him; the London Prentices of Fleet Street, with their "What lack you, countryman?" scamper away from him. The "haberdashers, that sell hats; the mercers and silk-men, that live in Paternoster Row," all set upon him. He receives no better treatment in Cheapside — A cheesemonger in Bread Street; "the lads that wish Lent were all the year" in Fish Street ; a merchant on the Exchange; the "gallant girls," whose "brave shops of ware were "up stairs;" and the drapers and poulterers of Gracechurch Street, to whom conscience was "Dutch or Spanish," flout and jeer him. A trip to Southwark, the King's Bench, and to the Blackman Street demireps, proves that "conscience is nothing." In St. Georges' Fields, "rooking rascals," playing at "nine pins," tell him to "prate on till he is hoarse." Espying a windmill hard by, he hies to the miller, whose excuse for not dealing with him was, that he must steal out of every bushel "a peck, if not three gallons." Conscience then trudges on "to try what would befall i' the country," whither we will not follow him.

Fiddler's Fling, and revel in the exhilarating perfume of those odoriferous garlands gathered on sunshiny holidays and star-twinkling nights, bewailing how disappointed lovers go to sea, and how romantic young lasses follow them in blue jackets and trowsers! Nay, rather than the tuneful race should be extinct, expect to see me some night, with my paper lantern and cracked spectacles, singing you woeful tragedies to love-lorn maids and cobblers' apprentices."

And, carried away by his enthusiasm to the jesting, ballad-singing days of jolly Queen Bess, the Laureat of Little Britain, with a countenance bubbling with hilarity, warbled con spirito, as a probationary ballad for the Itinerantship, (!)

THE KNIGHTING OF THE SIRLOIN.

Elizabeth Tudor her breakfast would make

On a pot of strong beer and a pound of beefsteak,
Ere six in the morning was toll'd by the chimes-

O the days of Queen Bess they were merry old times!

From hawking and hunting she rode back to town,

In time just to knock an ambassador down;
Toy'd, trifled, coquetted, then lopp'd off a head;
And at three score and ten danced a hornpipe to bed.

With Nicholas Bacon, her councillor chief,
One day she was dining on English roast beef;
That very same day when her Majesty's Grace'
Had given Lord Essex a slap on the face.

My Lord Keeper stared, as the wine-cup she kiss'd,
At his sovereign lady's superlative twist,

And thought, thinking truly his larder would squeak,
He'd much rather keep her a day than a week.

"When I travelled," says the Spectator, "I took a particular delight in hearing the songs and fables that are come from father to son, and are most in vogue among the common people of the countries through which I passed; for it is impossible that anything should be universally tasted and approved by a multitude (though they are only the rabble of a nation), which hath not in it some peculiar aptness to please and gratify the mind of man."

Old tales, old songs, and an old jest,

Our stomachs easiliest digest.

"Listen to me, my lovly shepherd's joye,

And thou shalt heare, with mirth and muckle glee,
Some pretie tales, which, when I was a boye,

My toothlesse grandame oft hath told to mee."

Love in a Tub, a comedy, by Sir George Etheridge.

* When Queen Elizabeth came to visit Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper, at his new house at Redgrave, she observed, alluding to his corpulency, that he had built his house too little for him. "Not so, madam," answered he; "but your Highness has made me too big for my house!"

The term "your Grace" was addressed to the English Sovereign during the earlier Tudor reigns. In her latter years Elizabeth assumed the appellation of Majesty." The following anecdote comprehends both titles. "As Queen Elizabeth passed the streets in state, one in the crowde cried first, God blesse your Royall Majestie !' and then, God blesse your Noble Grace!' Why, how now,' saves the Queene, am I tenne groates worse than I was e'en now?" The value of the old "Ryal," or "Royall," was 10s., that of the "Noble " 6s. 8d. The Emperor Charles the Fifth was the first crowned head that assumed the title of “ MaJesty."

"What call you this dainty, my very good lord?"-
"The Loin,"-bowing low till his nose touch'd the board,—
"And-breath of our nostrils, and light of our eyes! 1
Saving your presence, the ox was a prize."

"Unsheath me, mine host, thy Toledo so bright.
Delicious Sir Loin! I do dub thee a knight.

Be thine at our banquets of honour the post;

While the Queen rules the realm, let Sir Loin rule the roast!

And 'tis, my Lord Keeper, our royal belief,

The Spaniard had beat, had it not been for beef!

Let him come if he dare! he shall sink! he shall quake!
With a duck-ing, Sir Francis shall give him a Drake.

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Thus, Don Whiskerandos, I throw thee my glove!
And now, merry minstrel, strike up Lighty Love!'
Come, pursey Sir Nicholas, caper thy best-
Dick Tarlton shall finish our sports with a jest."

The virginals sounded, Sir Nicholas puff'd,

And led forth her Highness, high-heel'd and be-ruff'd—
Automaton dancers to musical chimes!

O the days of Queen Bess, they were merry old times!

"And now, leaving Nestor Nightingale to propitiate Uncle Timothy for this ballad-singing interpolation to his Merrie Mysteries, let us return and pay our respects, not to the dignified Count Haynes, the learned Doctor Haynes, but to plain Joe Haynes, the facetious, practical-joking Droll-Player of Bartholomew Fair."

In the first year of King James the Second, our hero set up a booth in Smithfield Rounds, where he acted a new droll, called the Whore of Babylon, or the Devil and the Pope. Joe being sent for by Judge Pollixfen, and soundly rated for presuming to put the pontiff into such bad company, replied, that he did it out of respect to his Holiness; for whereas many ignorant people believed the Pope to be a blatant beast, with seven heads, ten horns, and a long tail, like the Dragon of Wantley's, according to the description of the Scotch Parsons! he proved him to be a smart, comely old gentle

1 Queen Elizabeth issued an edict commanding every artist who should paint the royal portrait to place her "in a garden, with a full light upon her, and the painter to put any shadow in her face at his peril!" Oliver Cromwell's injunc tions to Sir Peter Lely were somewhat different. The knight was desired to transfer to his canvas all the blotches and carbuncles that blossomed in the Protector's rocky physiognomy. Sir Joshua Reynolds,

(

with fingers so lissom,

Girls start from his canvas, and ask us to kiss 'em!)

having taken the liberty of mitigating the utter stupidity of one of his "Pot-boilers," i. e. stupid faces, and receiving from the sitter's family the reverse of approbation, exclaimed, "I have thrown a glimpse of meaning into this fool's phiz, and now none of his friends know him!" At another time, having painted too true a likeness, it was threatened to be thrown upon his hands, when a polite note from the artist, stating that, with the additional appendage of a tail, it would do admirably for a monkey, for which he had a commission, and requesting to know if the portrait was to be sent home or not, produced the desired effect. The picture was paid for, and put into the fire!

2 Antony, vulgo Tony Aston, a famous player, and one of Joe's contemporaries. The only portrait (a sorry one) of Tony extant, is a small oval in the frontispiece to the Fool's Opera, to which his comical harum-scarum autobiography is prefixed.

man,1 in snow-white canonicals, and a crit-screw wig. The sent morning two bailiffs arrested him for twenty pounds, just as the Bishop of Ely was riding by in his coach. Quit Jse to the batifs, "Gentlemen, here is my cousin, the Bishno of Ely: let me but meak a word to him, and he will pay the debt and charges" The Bishop ordered his carriage to stop, whist Joe those to has ear whispered, “My Lord, here are a couple of pour waverers who have sich zerrible scruples of conscience, that I fear they hang then=~="—" Very well." said the Bishop. So, calling to the baffs, be WILL + You two men, come to me to-morrow, and II satisfy you The milfs bowed, and went their way: Joe ticked in the midrif, and mering himself with his device went his way too. In the murung de belifs repaired to the Bishop's house. Well, my get me' and his reverence, "what are your scruples of congies repiced the bailiffs, we have no scruples! Vem mif my Lord who yesterday arrested your consin Joe Leves ir very pounds. Your Lordship promised to sarity us Dear cut line will be as good as your word." The Bishop, DPA Ev further scamiai to his name, immediately paid the

war tetrai aiventare occurred during his pilgrimage

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I was St Jom day, ant the levout people of the parish had ruit a save in the body of the church, for the representation of a tragery called the Decollatun the Baptist. Joe had the good

• Catholicam, Timpi i; enjoineť perce and mortification, was no enemy, at appointed essons am Hens wen merry saints, for they always brought with them a kids. Ag you rate was the Pope who first invented the Carnival. On made and Dumbscrews, fire and faggots, were put by, whine and brairs congest or utes and dominos; and music inspired equail, mer trærams mit devotions.

2 The Chester Keres, write 3ander Raiph Higden, a Benedictine of St. Werburg⚫ Aseta de crt van irs performed during the mayoralty of John Arneway, we fiet te offes mm 263 a 1275, at the cost and charges of the different trading outprates themen. They were acted in English (“made into partes and pagiantes”, intent of 11 Latin, mu payed on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday in Whiteyn werk. The companies began at the abbey gates, and when the first pageant was concluded the movesole stage a high scaffolde with two Promes; a higher and a lower. 19. ir viesies was wheeled to the High Cross before the Mayor, and then invart a every street, so that each street had its pageant. "The Harrowing of Eels one of the most ancient Miracle Plays in our language. It is as out as the reign of Edward the Third, if not older. The Prologue and Epilogue were devered in his own person by the actor who had the part of the Saviour. In 1378, the Scholars of St. Paul's presented a petition to Richard the recond, praying him to penisõit some inexpert people" from presenting the History of the Old Testament, to the serious prejudice of their clergy, who had been at great expense in order to represent it at Christmas. On the 18th July, 1300, the Parish Clerks of London played Religions Interludes at the Skinners' Well, in Clerkenwell, which lasted three days. In 1409, they performed The Creation of the World, which continued eight days. On one side of the lowest platform of these primitive stages was a dark pitchy cavern, whence issued fire and mes, and the howlings of souls tormented by demons. The latter occasionally lowed their grinning faces through the mouth of the cavern, to the terrible dehit of the ors! The Passion of Our Saviour was the first dramatic spec

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