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The Dagonizing of Bartholomew Fayre, caused through the Lord Majors Command, for the battering downe the vanities of the Gentiles, comprehended in Flag and Pole, ap∣pertayning to Puppet play.
The 23. of August being the day before the Apostolicke Fayre.
ON August's foure and twentieth Eve,
The Cities Soveraigne and the Shrieve
To Smithfield came if you'l beleeve to see th'ungodly flagges.
The Livery men were sore put too't,
Though some wore shoe, and some wore boot,
They 'wre all constraind to trans on foot,
God save 'em.
Entring through Duck-lane at the Crowne,
The soveraigne Cit began to frowne,
As if 't abated his renowne, the paint did so o'retop him.
Downe with these Dagons then, quoth he,
They outbrave my dayes Regality,
For's pride and partiality
Jove crop him.
Ile have no puppet-playes, quoth he,
The harmlesse-mirth displeaseth me,
Begun on August twenty three, 'tis full twelve howres too early.
A Yonker then began to laugh,
'Gainst whom the Major advanc't white staffe,
And sent him to the Compter safe,
sans parly.
Another wight (in wofull wise)
Besought the Major, his pupetries,
That he would not Babell-onize, surely they were not whorish.
Oh do'nt my bratts Isabellize,
They ne're did Meretritialize
Betwixt your Lordships Ladies thighes,
peace Villaine.
Another Mortall had a clout,
Which on a long pole did hang out,
At which the Major turnd up his snout, for he was then advancing.
Mounted with him came both the Shrieves,
And Catchpoles with their hanging slieves,
They shew'd much like a den of theev's
though prauncing.
With that my Lord did silence breake,
He op'd his mouth and thus did speake,
Tis fittest quoth he that the weake unto the walls should goe.
There was a Varlet (close at hand)
To execute (Gold chaines) command
Pull'd wight away straight, notwithstand∣
ing, fowle twas.
He that shew'd wonders made of waxe,
Spoke in behalfe of his fine knacks,
Quoth he, we spit no fire of flax, nor such like puppet showes.
Besides we shew his Excellence,
Quoth Major, that is a faire pretence,
Gods-nigs tis time that I were hence
s' away 'h goes.
On top of Booth sat pudding Iohn,
(Lord would be loath to sit thereon,)
I'me sure he wisht his Lordship gone, yet durst not tell him so.
But when his Lordship left the Fayre,
John set up throat did rend the Ayre,
And glad he was, he lowd did sweare
he was gone.