The French Dancing-Master, AND THE ENGLISH SOLDIER: Or, The Difference betwixt Fiddling and Fight, Displayed in a DIALOGUE betwixt an ENGLISHMAN, and a FRENCHMAN.  Englishman. 
MOnsieur, good morn, whither away so fast?  
Some great importance sure doth cause this haste;  
Your running looks do in effect thus say,  
Monsieur is gone, gone Landlord asketh pay.  Frenchman. 
Begar me no sush man, me scorn de shift,  
Me plus Affaires dat me from home de lift.  English man. 
You scorn to shift, 'tis true I think you say,  
Witness your Shirt not washed this many a day.  Frenchman. 
Par me foy de Rascal to degrase,  
Ne autre man in de varle live in sush case;  
Begar though me no speak si bon English,  
Me thrush Tord in de belly if the speak does;  
Begar me be de born Gentleman de France,  
Me can learn English a le mode de Dance:  
Me play ode little Fiddle, me can sing,  
Par ma foy no Poet Orphus sush Music bring:  
Begar you no sush man in all de England have,  
For the Fiddle, and the Dancing brave.  Englishman. 
But when you come to meet your Foe in face,  
The Fiddler and the Fidle's out of case.  Frenchman. 
Begar de art Jack-napes to a teetle,  
Me be brave Fellow, me can fight a little;  
Me wear Feader in de Hat, me have Tord by side,  
Me be de Gentleman when me on de Horse ride;  
Englishman be a Clown, make Leg like a the Bear,  
Franchman be the Gentleman, the fiddle and the dance rare.  Englishman. 
'Tis true, in dancing you do us excel,  
But can you, as the English, fight as well?  
When Mars unsheaths his Sword, and Canons roar,  
And men lie weltering in their purple gore,  
When Towns are burnt, and Cities are destroyed,  
To what use will your Dancing be employed?  Frenchman. 
Begar be de create Fool to speak sush ting,  
Brava, brava, de Dance, de Fidele, Sing;  
No sush thing in de varle, to peep, to dance,  
To be dreass like de Madam, a le mode France.  Englishman. 
Brave Monsieur! gallant Monsieur! wondrous rare!  
Fiddling and fooling none with thee compare!  Frenchman. 
Begar be de Rogue, the Villain, the Carl,  
To speak 'gainst the Dance, the brave thing in de varle;  
Begar me do love it out of all the cry,  
Par ma foy de speak 'gainst it, tell loud lie:  
Franceman is the Gentleman in the high Sphere,  
Vat is de Clown vas dis skip de Angletiere?  
De French Monsieur skip and leap like the Spirit,  
De caper, and kick, is not dat a rare shit?  Englishman. 
A rare shit 'tis indeed, I needs must say,  
To see men skip like Puppets in a Play;  
To act the Mimic, fiddle, prate, and dance,  
And cringe like Apes, is a le mode France:  
But to be resolute, one to fight with ten,  
And beat them, 's proper unto Englishmen.  Frenchman. 
Begar Franceman is couragio, fight like te Tiffell,  
De kill, de slay, cut men off de middle;  
De brave Monsieurs, de Oliver, de Rowland,  
Begar de fight as long as de could stand;  
Amadis de Gaul, de Roy Charlemagne,  
De make blood run down like drops of the rain,  
Begar with new fashion so excellent! so rare!  
No men in de varle wid de French make compare.  Englishman. 
But Monsieur, have you never heard report  
Of Poicters, Crescy, and of Agincourt?  
When France was drowned with streams of Frenchman's blood,  
And English Valour could not be withstood?  
six HENRY in Paris Crowned in State,  
And France (submissive) did on England wait,  
When only TALBOT'S Name did bear such sway,  
To make Ten thousand Frenchmen run away?  
Is not France, and the Nation still the same,  
Whom England did in all Encounters tame?  
Have we not Hero's still who are endued  
With Valour, (Stars of the first Magnitude?)  
YORKS Duke, Brave ALBEMARLE, equal to those  
Our Ancestors, who Frenchmen did oppose?  
With other Worthies of deserved Fame,  
Make Frenchmen tremble for to hear their Name.  Frenchman. 
Begar does true, de Englishman speaks right,  
France leave to Dance, and now de learn to Fight.  
Adieu Monsieur.   

LONDON, Printed in the Year 1666.