Health to All Good Fellowes, A: Or, The Good Companion's Arithmaticke

Be merry, my hearts, and call for your quarts,
And let no liquor be lacking,
We have gold in store, we purpose to roare,
Untill we set care a-packing.
There, Hostesse, make haste, and let no time waste,
Let every man have his due,
To save shooes and trouble, bring in the pots double,
For he that made one made two.

I'll drink up my drink, and speak what I think,
Strong drink will make us speak truely,
We cannot be termed all drunkards confirmed,
So long as we are not unruly.
We'll drink and be civil, intending no evil.
If none be offended at me,
As I did before, so I'll add one more
And he that made two made three.

The greedy curmudgin sits all the day snudging
At home with brown bread and small beare,
To coffer up wealth, he starved himselfe,
Scarce eats a good meale in a year,
But I'll not do so, how ere the world go
So long as I've money in store
I scorne for the faile, go fils up more Ale,
For he that made three made four.

Why sit you thus sadly, because I call madly,
I mean not to leave in the lurch,
My reckoning I'll pay ere I go away,
Else hang me as high as a Church.
Perhaps you will say, this is not the way,
They must pine that in this world will thrive;
No matter for that, we'll laugh and be fat,
For he that made four made five.

To those my good friend my love so extends,
I cannot truly express it;
When with you I meet, your words are so sweet,
I am unwilling to misse it.
I hate all base slaves that their money saves,
And all those that use base tricks,
For with jovial blades, I'm merry as the Maids,
For he that made five made six.

Then drink round about till sorrow be drowned,
And let us sing hey downe a derry,
I cannot insure, to sit thus demure,
For hither I came to be merry.
Then pluck up good heart before we depart,
With my Hostesse we will make it even,
For I am set a madding, and still will be adding,
For he that made six made seven.

Sad melancholy will bring us folly,
And this is death's principal magnet,
But this course I will take it never shall make,
Me look otherwise than an agent
And in more content my time shall be spent,
And I'll pay every man his right,
Then, Hostesse, go fill, and stand not so still,
For he that made seven made eight.

At home I confesse, with my wife honest Besse,
I practise good husbandry well,
I follow my calling, to keep me from falling;
My neighbours about me that dwell.
Will praise me at large for maintaining my charge,
But when I to drinking incline
I scorn for to shrinke, go fetch us more drinks,
For he that made eight made nine.

Then while we are here, we'll drink Ale and Beer,
And freely our money we'll spend
Let no man take care for paying his share,
If need be I'll pay for my friend.
Then, Hostesse, make haste, and let no time waste,
You're welcome all, kind Gentlemen,
Never fear to carouse, while there's beer in the house,
For he that made nine made ten.

Then, Hostesse, be quicker, and bring us more liquor,
And let no attendance be missing,
I cannot content me, to see the pot empty,
A full cup is well worth the kissing.
Then, Hostesse, go fetch us some, for till you do come,
We are of all joyes bereaven,
You know what I mean, make haste come again,
For he that made ten made eleven.

With merry solaces, quite voyd of all malice,
With honest good fellows that's here,
No cursing nor swearing, no staring nor tearing,
Amongst us do serve to appeare.
When we have spent, all to labour we fall,
For a living we'll dig or we'll delve,
Determined to be both bounteous and free,
He that made eleven made twelve.

Now I think it is fit and most requisite,
To drink a health to our wives,
The which being done, we'll pay and be gone,
Strong drinke all our wits now deprives.
Then, Hostesse, let's know the summe that we owe,
Twelve pence there is for certain,
Then t'other pot, and here's money for't,
For he that made twelve made thirteen.
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