Nose, nose, nose, nose! Who gave thee that jolly red nose? And that gave me my jolly red nose*. A much more satisfactory effect of the spiced cup is mentioned in an anonymous Comedy called Histrio-mastix, 1610, where it is said, "The toast, the nutmeg, and the ginger "Will make a sighing man a singer." Some of my readers may recollect poor old Di Giovanni the Stage Manager at the Opera-house some years ago: whether he was indebted to the cup of sack for his vocal powers I know not, but his was certainly the beau ideal of a jolly red nose. CCLXXVII. Three blind mice, three blind mice! Dame Julian, the Miller, and his merry old wife, Round. This absurd old round is frequently brought to mind in the present day, from the circumstance of there being an instrumental Quartet by Weiss, through which runs a musical phrase accidentally the same as the notes applied to the words Three blind mice. They form a third descending, C, B, A. * Vide No. CCCXXXVIII. CCLXXVIII. The great bells of Osney They ring, They jing; The tenor of them goes merrily. Round. The Bells of Osney Abbey, an ancient Monastery near Oxford, were at one time the most celebrated in England; they had each different names; vide Sir J. Hawkins's History of Music. The christening of bells used to be a sort of religious ceremony, and even so late as the year 1782, we have the following account in The St. James's Chronicle, 13th September. 66 66 "This day the lovers of ecclesiastical solemnities are running in crowds to the Church of St. Sulpitius* to "see the ceremony of christening the new bells of that parish. The Godfather and Godmother of the first bell are the King and Queen, who have sent their proxies; "of the second, Monsieur and Madame in person; of the third, the Prince of Condè and Mademoiselle his daugh'ter," &c. 66 66 66 CCLXXIX. O my love! Lov'st thou me? Then quickly come and save him That dies for thee. * In Paris. Round. CCLXXX. Martin said to his man, Fie! man, fie! Martin said to his man, Who's the fool now? Martin said to his man, Fill thou the cup, and I the can; Who's the fool now? I saw a sheep shearing corn, I saw a mouse catch a cat, And the cheese eat the rat. A satire, I suppose, upon those who love to tell wonderful stories. The burden Fie! man, fie! and Who's the fool now? occurs between every alternate line. CCLXXXI. Who liveth so merry in all this land, As doth the poor widow that selleth the sand? And ever she singeth, as I can guess, Will you buy any sand, mistress? The broom-man maketh his living most sweet, With carrying brooms from street to street; Who would desire a pleasanter thing Than all the day long to do nothing but sing? The chimney-sweeper all the long day, The cobler he sits cobling till noon, The marchant man doth sail on the seas, The husbandman all day goeth to plough, The serving-man waiteth from street to street, Who liveth so merry and maketh such sport, The poorest sort wheresoever they be, They gather together by one two and three ; And every man will spend his penny, What makes such a shot among a great many ? (bis.) CCLXXXII. As it fell on a holyday, And upon a holytide a; John Dory bought him an ambling nag, To Paris for to ride a. And when John Dory to Paris was come, A little before the gate a; John Dory was fitted, the porter was witted, To let him in thereat a. The first man that John Dory did meet, A pardon, a pardon, my liege and my king, And Nichol was then a Cornish man He manned him forth a goodly bark, Run up, my boy, into the main top, |