Sometimes would he knock at
men's doors, and when the servants came, he would blow out the candle, if
they were men; but if they were women, he would not only put out their
light, but kiss them full sweetly, and then go away as his fashion was,
_ho, ho, hoh!_ Oftentimes would he sing at a door like a singing man, and
when they did come to give him his reward, he would turn his back and
laugh. In these humours of his he had many pretty songs, which I will sing
as perfect as I can. For his chimney-sweeper's humours he had these songs:
the first is to the tune of _I have been a fiddler these fifteen years_.
Black I am from head to foot,
And all doth come by chimney soot:
Then maidens, come and cherish him
That makes your chimneys neat and trim.
Horns have I store, but all at my back;
My head no ornament doth lack:
I give my horns to other men,
And ne'er require them again.
Then come away, you wanton wives,
That love your pleasures as your lives:
To each good woman I'll give two,
Or more, if she think them too few.
Then would he change his note and sing this following, to the tune of _What
care I how fair she be?_[13]
Be she blacker than the stock,
If that thou wilt make her fair,
Put her in a cambric smock,
Buy her paint and flaxen hair.
One your carrier brings to town
Will put down your city-bred;
Put her on a broker's gown,
That will sell her maiden-head.
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