A New Droll: OR, The Counter-Scuffle: The Second Part. Acted in the Middle of HIGH-LENT, BETWEEN THE GAOLERS and the PRISONERS.  
Very Pleasant and Delghtful.  
By I. jordan, Gent.  
London, Printed for the Readers Recreation, 1663.   

A new Drol.  
LET that Majestic Pen that writes,  
Of brave K— Arthur and his Knights,  
And of their Noble feats and fights  
Be silent.  
And now let each one listen well,  
While I the Famous battle tell,  
In Woodstreet-Counter that befell,  
In high Lent.  
In which great Scuffle only twan,  
Without much hurt, or being slain,  
Immortal Honour did obtain,  
by Merit.  
One was a Captain in degree,  
A strong and lufty man was he,  
Tother a Tradesman bold and free,  
Of Spirit.  
And though he was no man of force,  
He had a stomach like a Horse,  
And in his Rage had no Remose,  
Or pity.  
Full nimbly could he cuff and clout,  
And was accounted without doubt,  
One of the prettiest Sparks about,  
The City.  
And at his Weapon any way,  
He could perform a single Fray,  
Even from the Long Pike, to the TAY-  
LORS Bodkin.  
He recked not for his flesh a jot,  
He fared not Englishman nor Scot,  
For Man or Monster, cared he not  
a Dodkin.  
For fight was his Recreation,  
And like a man in Desperation,  
For Law, Edict, or Proclamation,  
He cared not.  
And in his anger (cause being given)  
To lift his hand against good Sir Steven,  
Or any Justice under Heaven,  
He feared not.  
He durst his Enemy withstand,  
Or at Tergoos or C●lis Sand,  
And bravely there with Sword in hand  
Would greet him▪  
And Noble Ellis was his name,  
Who amongst his ●●es to purchase fame,  
Nor cared though the Devil came  
To meet him.  
And this brave Goldsmith was the man,  
Who first this worthy brawl began,  
Which after ended in a Can  
Of mild Beer.  
But had you seen him when you fought,  
How eagerly for blood he sought,  
There's no man but would have him thought  
a wild Bear.  
Imagine now you see a score  
Of Madcap Gentlemen or more,  
Boys that did use to Roist and Roar,  
and swagger.  
Among the which were three or four,  
That Ruled themselves by Wisdoms Lore,  
Whose very Grandsire's scarcely wore  
a Dagger.  
A Priest and a Lawyer, men well read,  
In wiping Spoons, and chipping bread,  
And falling too, a short Grace being said,  
Fill roundly.  
Whose hungry Maws no ●allets need,  
Good appetites therein to breed,  
Their Stomaches without Sauce could feed,  
Profoundly  
'Twas ill that men of sober Diet,  
Who loved to fill their Guts in quiet,  
Were placed with Ruffians that to Riot  
Were given.  
And (O great grief!) even from their Food,  
(Their Stomaches too, being strong and good)  
And that sweet place whereon it stood,  
be driven.  
But here 'tis fitting I repeat,  
What Food our dainty Prisoners eat,  
But if in placing of the Meat,  
and Dishes.  
From curious Order I do swerve,  
'Tis that themselves did none observe,  
For which no flesh they did deserve,  
nor Fishes.  
But some (perhaps) will say, that Lent  
Affords them not what here is meant,  
So much, so good, and that they went  
Without it.  
'Tis like, but if I add a Dish  
Or twain, or three, of Flesh, or Fish,  
They either had▪ or did it wish,  
ne'er doubt it.  
Then wipe your Mouths, while I declare,  
The goodness of this Lenten fare,  
Which is in Prison very Rare,  
I tell ye.  

* The Supper.  Furmity as sweet as any Nut,  
As good as ever swiled a Gut,  
And Butter sweet as ere was put  
In belly.  
Eggs by the dozen, new and good,  
Which in white Salt upright stood,  
And meats which heat and stir the blood.  
To action.  
As buttered Crabs, and Lobsters Red,  
Which send the Married pair to bed,  
And in loose bloods have often bred,  
a Faction.  
Fish buttered to the Platters brim,  
And Parsnips did in butter swim,  
Strewed o'er with Pepper neat and trim,  
Salt Salmon.  
Smelts cried, come eat me, do not stay,  
Fresh Cod, and Maids full nearly lay,  
And next to these a lusty Basilius—  
con Gammon.  
Stuck thick with Cloves upon the back,  
Well stuffed with Sage, and for the Smack,  
Daintily strewed with Pepper black,  
Sonsed Gurnet.  
Picktel, Sturgeon, Tench, and Trout,  
Meat far too good for such a Rout,  
To tumble, toss, and throw about,  
and spurn it.  
The next a Neats-tongue neatly dried,  
Mustard and Sugar by his side,  
Rochets buttered, Flounder fried,  
Hot Custard.  
Eels boiled and broiled; and next they bring  
Herring that is the Fish's King,  
And then a Courtly Poll of Ling,  
and Mustard.  
But stay, I had almost forgot,  
The flesh that still stands piping hot,  
Some from the Spit, some from the Pot▪  
New taken.  
A shoulder, and a Leg of Mutton,  
As good as ever Knife was put on,  
Which never were by a true Glutton,  
Forsaken.  
A Loin of Veal, that would have ●●ar'd  
One of the hungriest of the Guard,  
And they sometimes will feed full hard,  
Like tall men.  
And such as love the lusty Chine,  
But when that I shall sup or dine,  
God grant they be no Guests of mine,  
Of all men.  
Thus the descriptions are complete,  
Which I have made of Men and Meat,  
Mars aid me now, while I repeat  
The battle.  
Where pots and stools were used as Gins,  
To break each others Heads and Shi●●,  
Where blows did make bones in their skins  
To rattle.  
Where men to madness never ceased;  
Till each (furious as a beast)  
Had spoilt the fashion of a Feast,  
Full dainty.  
Whereon had they not been accursed,  
They might have fed, till bellies burst,  
But Ellis showed himself the worst,  
Of twenty.  
For he began this monstrous brawl,  
Which afterward incensed them all,  
To throw the meat about the Hall,  
That Even.  
And now give ear unto the Jar,  
That fell between these men of War,,  
Wherein so many a harmless Scar  
Was given  
The board thus furnished, each man sat,  
Some fell to feeding, some to prate,  
'Mong whom a jarring Question straight  
Was risen.  
For they grew hotly in dispute,  
What Calling was of most Repute,  
'Twas well their Wits were so acute  
In prison.  
But after a deliberate pause,  
The Lawyer spoke, as he had cause,  
In commendation of the Laws  
Profession.  
The Law, quoth he, by a just doom,  
Doth censure all that to it come,  
And still defends the innocent from  
Oppression.  
It favours Truth; it curbs the hope  
Of Vice; it gives Allegiance scope;  
Provides a Gallows and a Rope  
For Treason.  
This doth the Law, and this is it  
Which makes us here in Prison sit,  
Which grounded is on holy VVrit  
And Reason,  
To which all men must subject be,  
As we by daily proof do see,  
From highest to lowest degree,  
The Scholar,  
Noble, and Rich: It doth subdue  
The Soldier, and his Swaggering crew,  
But at that word the Captain grew  
In Choler▪  
He looked full grim, and at first word  
Rapt out an Oath, that shook the board,  
And struck his fist, that the Sound roared  
Like thunder.  
It made all skip that stood him near,  
The frighted Custard quaked for fear,  
And those that heard it stricken were  
With Wonder.  
Nought did he now but frown and puff  
And having stared and swore enough,  
Thus he began in Language rough.  
Thou cogging,  
Base foisting Lawyer, that dost set  
Thy mind on nothing, but to get  
Thy living by thy damned pet-  
tie fogging.  
A Slave that shall for half a Crown,  
With Buckram-bag, and daggled-Gowne,  
Wait like my Dog obout the Town,  
And follow  
A business of the Devil's part,  
For Fees though not with Law nor Art,  
But head as empty as thy heart,  
Is hollow,  
You stay at home and pocket fees,  
While we abroad our bloods do lose,  
And then with such base terms as these,  
You wrong us.  
But Lawyer, it is safer far  
For thee to prattle at a Bar,  
Than once to show thy face i'th' War,  
Among us.  
Where to defend such thankless Hinds,  
The Soldier little quiet finds,  
But is exposed to stormy winds,  
and Wether.  
And oft in blood he wades full deep,  
Your throats from foreign Swords to keep,  
And wakes when you securely sleep  
In feathers.  
What could your Laws, or Statutes do,  
Against invasions of the foe,  
Did not the valiant Soldier go  
To quell 'em▪  
And to prevent your further harms,  
With Ensign, Fife, and loud Alarms  
Of Warlike Drum, by force of Arms  
Repel 'em.  
Were't not for us thou Swade, quoth he,  
Where wouldst thou fog to get a Fee?  
But to defend such things as thee,  
'Tis pity.  
For such as thou, esteem us ●east,  
Who ever have been ready pressed,  
To guard you, and the Cuckoo's nest,  
Your City.  
That very word made Ellis start,  
And all his blood ran to his hear●,  
He shook, and quaked in every part  
With hunger.  
He looked as if nought might assuage  
The heat of his inflamed rage,  
His very countenance did presage  
Some danger.  
A Cuckoo's nest, quoth he: and so,  
He humed, and held his head full-low,  
As if distracted thoughts did o-  
verpress him.  
At length, quoth he, my Mother said,  
At Bristol she was brought to bed,  
And there was Ellis born and bred,  
(God bless him.)  
Of London City I am free,  
And there I first my Wife did see,  
And for that very cause, quoth he,  
I love it.  
And he that calls it Cuckoo's nest,  
Except he says, he speaks in jest,  
He is a Villain, and a Beast,  
I'll prove it.  
For though I am a man of Trade,  
And free of London City made,  
Yet can I use Gun, Bill, and blade  
In battle,  
And Citizens, if need require,  
Themselves can force the Foe retire,  
Whatever this Low-Country Squire  
do prattle▪  
For we have Soldiers of our own,  
able enough to guard the Town,  
And Captains of most fair renown,  
about it.  
If any Foe should fight amain,  
and set on us with all his Train,  
we'll make him to Retire again,  
— Near doubt it.  
We have fought well in Dangers past,  
And will do while our Lives do last,  
Without the help of any Cast—  
Commanders  
That thither come, compelled by want,  
With Rusty Swords, and Suits Provant,  
From utrich, Numigen, or Gant—  
In Flanders.  
The Captain could no longer hold,  
But looking fiercely, plainly told  
The Citizen, he was too bold,—  
and called him  
Proud Boy, and for his saucy Speech,  
Did shortly vow to whip his Breech:  
Then Ellis snatched the pot, with which—  
He malled him.  
He threw the Jugge, and therewithal  

* The Scuffle.  He gave the Captain such a mall,  
As made him thump against the wall—  
His Crupper,  
With that the Captain took a Dish  
That stood brim full of buttered fish,  
As good as any heart could wish—  
To Supper.  
And as he threw, his foot did slide,  
Which turned his arm and dish aside,  
And all be-butter-fishifide—  
Nic Ballad.  
and he good man, did none disease,  
But sitting quiet: and at ease,  
With buttered Rochets, sought to please—  
His Pallat.  
but when he felt the wrong he had,  
He Raged, and swore, and grew stark mad,  
Some in the Room been better had—  
without him;  
For he took hold of any thing,  
And first he caught the Poll of Ling,  
Which he courageously did fling—  
aboat him.  
Out of his Hand it flew a pace,  
And hit the Lawyer in the face,  
Who at the Board in highest place—  
was seated.  
and as the Lawyer thought to rise,  
The Salt was thrown into his Eyes,  
Which him of Sight in woeful wise—  
defeated.  
all things near Hand, N●c Ballad threw:  
At length his buttered Rochets flew,  
And ●it by chance, amongst the Crew,—  
The Parson.  
The Sauce his Coat did all be-wet,  
The Priest began to fume and fret,  
The Seat was buttered which he set,  
His— on▪  
He knew not what to do or say,  
It was in vain to preach or pray,  
Or cry you are all gone astray,  
Good people.  
He might as well go strive to teach  
Divinity beyond his reach,  
Or when the Bells ring out, go preach  
I'th' Steeple.  
At this mischance the silly man,  
Out of the room would fain have run,  
and very angrily began  
To mutter.  
Ill luck had he, for after that,  
One threw the Parsneps full of fat,  
Which stuck like Brooches in his Hat  
with Butter.  
Out of the place he soon repairs,  
And ran half headlong down the stairs,  
and made complaint to Master Airs  
With crying.  
Up ran he to know the matter,  
and found how they the things did scatter,  
Here a Trencher, there a Platter,  
Were lying.  
I dare not say he stunk for woe,  
Nor will, unless I did it know,  
But some there be that dares say so  
that smelled him.  
Nor could ye blame him, if he did,  
For they threw dishes at his head,  
and did with Eggs and Loaves of bread  
bepelt him▪  
He thrust himself into the throng,  
and used the virtue of his tongue,  
But what could one man's word among  
So many?  
The Candles all were shuffled out,  
The Victuals flew afresh about;  
Was never such a Combat fought  
by any.  
Now in the dark was all the coil,  
Some were bloody in the broil,  
and some lay steeped in Salad-oil  
and Mustard.  
The ●ight would make a man a feared:  
another had a buttered Beard,  
Another's face was all besmeared  
with Custard.  
Others were daubed up to the knee,  
With buttered Fish and Furmitee;  
and some the men could scarcely see—  
that beat 'em.  
Under the board ●luell●n lay,  
Being sore frighted with the fray,  
and as the weapons flew that way,—  
he eat 'em.  
The bread stuck in the windows all,  
Like bullets in a Castlewall,  
Which furious foes do seek to scale—  
In battle.  
Shoulders of Mutton, and Loins of Veal,  
Appointed for to serve the meal,  
about their ears full many a peal—  
did rattle.  
The which when Mr. Blany spied,  
Oh, take away their arms he cried,  
Lest some great hurt do them betid,—  
Prevent it.  
And then the knave away did steal,  
O● food that fell, no little deal,  
and in his house at many a meal—  
He spent it.  
The Captain ran the rest among,  
as eager to revenge the wrong  
Done by the Plot which Ellis flung—  
So stoutly.  
And angry Ellis sought about,  
To find the furious Captain out,  
at length they met, and then they fought—  
devoutly.  
Now being met, they never lin,  
Till with their loud robustuous din,  
The room and all that was therein—  
did rumble.  
Instead of Weapons made of Steel,  
The Captain took a salted Eel,  
and at each blow made Ellis reel,—  
and tumble.  
Ellis a ●ippin-pye had got,  
A sorer weapon than the Pot:  
For lo, the apples being hot,—  
did scald him.  
The Captain laid about him still,  
As if he would poor Ellls kill,  
and with his Eel with a good will—  
He malled him  
At length quoth he, Ellis thou art  
a fellow of courageous heart,  
Yield now, and I will take thy part—  
hereafter.  
Quoth Ellis, much I scorn to hear,  
Thy words of threats, being free from fear,  
With which he hardly could forbear—  
from laughture.  
Together then afresh they fly,  
The Eel against the Pippin-pye.  
But Blany stood there purposely—  
To watch them.  
The weapons wherewithal they fought,  
Were those for which he chiefly sought,  
and with an eager stomach thought—  
To catch 'em.  
But scap't not now so well away,  
as that the Veal and Mutton-fray:  
He thought to have with such a prey—  
His jaws fed.  
But all his hope did turn aside,  
He looked for that which luck denied;  
For Ellis all be-pippin-pyde—  
His Calf's head.  
Woe was the case he now was in,  
The apples hot, did scald the skin,  
His Skull, as it had rotten been,—  
did coddle.  
With that one fool among the rout,  
Made outcry all the house about,  
That Blany's b●ains were beaten out—  
his noddle.  
Which Lockwood hearing needs would see,  
what all-this coil and stir might be,  
and up the stairs his Guts and he—  
went wadling.  
But when he came the Chamber near,  
Behind the door he stood to hear,  
but in he durst not come for fear—  
of swaddling.  
There stood he in a frightful case,  
and as by chance he stirred his face,  
Full in the mouth a buttered Plaice—  
did hit him.  
Away he sneaked, and with his tongue,  
He licked and swallowed up the wrong,  
and as ●e went the room along—  
Be— him.  
For Help now doth poor Lockwood cry,  
O! bring a Surgeon, or I die,  
My Guts out of my Belly fly:—  
Come quickly.  
Blany with open mouth likewise,  
For present help of Surgeon cries,  
Pity a man, quoth he that lies—  
So sickly.  
Philip's, the kilful Surgeon then,  
was called, and called, and called again,  
If he had skill to cure these men,—  
To show it.  
At length he comes, and first he puts  
His hands, to feel for Lockwoods' Guts  
which came not forth so sweet as Nuts,—  
all know it.  
He cries for water. In the mean  
One calls up Madge the Kitchin-quean,  
To take and make the Baby clean—  
and clout it.  
Fast by the Nose she took the Squall,  
and led him softly through the Hall,  
Lest the perfume through knees should fall—  
about it.  
She turned his Hose beneath the knee,  
Nor could she choose but laugh to see,  
That yellow which was wont to be—  
a white-breech.  
She took a Dishclout off the shelf,  
and with it wiped the dirty Elf,  
which had not wit to h●lp itself—  
Poor— breech,  
Thus leaving Lockwood all bewrayed,  
Unto the mercy of the Maid  
who well deserved to be paid—  
for taking.  
Such homely pains, Now let us cast,  
Our thoughts back on the stir that's past,  
and them whose bones could not in haste—  
leave aching.  
And like the Candles, shall my Pen  
Show you these Gallants once again,  
which now like Furies, not like men—  
appeared.  
Fresh Lights being brought t'appease the brawl,  
Show twenty mad men in the Hall,  
with Blood and Sauce their faces all—  
besmeared.  
Their clothes rend and soused in drink,  
Oil, Mustard, Butter, and the stink,  
which Lockwood left, would make one think—  
in sadness.  
That these so monstrous creatures dwell,  
Either in Bedlam, or in Hell,  
Or that no tongue or Pen can tell—  
their madness.  
They were indeed disfigured so,  
Friend knew not friend, nor foeman foe,  
And each man scarce himself did know:—  
But after.  
A frantic staring round about,  
They suddenly did quit their doubt,  
And loudly all at once broke out  
in Laughter.  
The heat of all is now a laid,  
The Keepers gently do persuade;  
And (as before) all friends are made  
full frankly.  
Ellis, the Captain doth embrace,  
The Captain doth return the grace,  
And so do all the men in the place,  
as friendly.  
By jove I love thee, Ellis cried,  
The Captain soon as much replied,  
Thou art, quoth he, a man well tried,  
and Vulcan  
With Mars at odds again shall be,  
ere any Jars 'twixt thee and me:  
And there upon I drink to thee  
a full Can.  
And then he kneeled upon the ground,  
Drink't off (quoth Ellis) for this Round  
For ever shall beheld Renown:  
and never.  
May any quarrel 'twixt us twain  
Arise, or this renew again,  
But may we loving friends remain  
for ever  
Amen, cried Captain so did all,  
And so the health went through the Hall,  
And thus the Noble Counter-brall  
was ended.  
But hunger now did vex 'em more,  
Then all their anger did before:  
They searched i'th' Room how far their Store  
extended,  
They want the Meat which Blany stole,  
One finds a HERRING in a hole.  
With dirt and dust, black as a Coal,  
and trodden  
All under feet; The next in post  
Snaps up, and feed on what was lost,  
And looks not whether it be Rost,  
or Sodden.  
A third finds in another place,  
A piece of LING in dirty case,  
And Mustard in his fellows face;  
Another  
Espies, that finds a Loaf of bread:  
A dish of Butter all bespread,  
And stuck upon another's Head  
I'th' Poother.  
Thus what they found, contented some,  
At length the Keeper brings a Broom,  
Meaning therewith to cleanse the Room  
with Sweeping.  
But under Table, on the ground,  
Looking to sweep, by chance he found  
Luellin, feigning to be sound-  
lie sleeping.  
He pulled him out so swift by the heels,  
As if his Arse had run on wheels.  
And found his pockets stuffed with Eels:  
His Codpiece  
Did plenty of provision bring,  
Somewhat is held of every thing,  
Smelts, Flounder, Rochets, and of Ling  
a broad piece.  
at this discovery, each man Round▪  
Took equal share of what was found,  
Which afterwards they freely drowned  
In good Drinks  
For of good Beer there was good store,  
Till all was glad to give it o'er,  
For each man had enough, and more  
That would drink.  
And when they thus had drunk and fed,  
(As if no quarrel had been bred)  
They all shook hands, and to bed  
did shuffle.  
Ellis, the glory of this Town,  
With that brave Captain of Renown,  
And thus I end this Famous COUNT-  
TER-SCUFFLE.  
FINIS.