The Red Head and the White
1.
Come my White head, let our Muses
Vent no spleen against abuses,
Nor scoffe at monstrous signes i’ th’ nose,
Signes in the Teeth, or in the Toes,
Nor what now delights us most,
The sign of signes upon the post.
For other matter we are sped,
And our signe shall be i’ th’ head.
[White Head’s Answer .]
2.
Oh! Will: Rufus, who would passe,
Unlesse he were a captious Asse;
The Head of all the parts is best,
And hath more senses then the rest.
This subject then in our defence
Will clear our Poem of non-sense.
Besides, you know, what ere we read,
We use to bring it to a head.
Why there’s no other part we can
Stile Monarch o’re this Isle of man:
’Tis that that weareth Nature’s crown,
’Tis this doth smile, ’tis this doth frown,
O what a prize and triumph ’twere,
To make this King our Subject here:
Believ’t, tis true what we have sed,
In this we hit the naile o’ th’ head.
[W. H.’s Answer .]
2.
Your nails upon my head Sir, Why?
How do you thus to villifie
The King of Parts, ’mongst all the rest,
Or if no king, methinks at least,
To mine you should give no offence,
That weares the badge of Innocence;
Those blowes would far more justly light
On thy red scull, for mine is white.
1.
Come on yfaith, that was well sed,
A pretty boy, hold up thy head,
Or hang it down, and blush apace,
And make it like mines native grace.
There’s ne’re a Bung-hole in the town
But in the working puts thine down,
A byle that’s drawing to a head
Looks white like thine, but mine is red.
[W. H.’s Answer. ]
2.
Poore foole, ’twas shame did first invent
The colour of thy Ornament,
And therefore thou art much too blame
To boast of that which is thy shame;
The Roman Prince that Poppeys topt,
Did shew such Red heads should be cropt:
And still the Turks for poyson smite
Such Ruddy skulls, but mine is white.
1.
The Indians paint their Devils so,
And ’tis a hated mark we know,
For never any aim aright
That do not strive to hit the white:
The Eagle threw her shell-fish down,
To crack in pieces such a crown:
Alas, a stinking onions head
Is white like thine, but mine is red.
[White’s]
2.
Red like to a blood-shot eye,
Provoking all that see ’t to cry:
For shame nere vaunt thy colours thus
Since ’tis an eye-sore unto us;
Those locks I’d swear, did I not know’t,
Were threds of some red petticoat;
No Bedlams oaker’d armes afright
So much as thine, but mine is white.
1.
Now if thou’lt blaze thy armes Ile shew’t,
My head doth love no petticoat,
My face on one side is as faire
As on the other is my haire,
So that I bear by Herauld’s rules,
Party per pale Argent and Gules.
Then laugh not ’cause my hair is red,
Ile swear that mine’s a noble head.
[2. White Head’s Reply.]
1.
The Scutcheon of my field doth beare
One onely field, and that is rare,
For then methinks that thine should yeild,
Since mine long since hath won the field;
Besides, all the notes that be,
White is the note of Chastity,
So that without all feare or dread,
Ile swear that mine’s a maidenhead.
1.
There’s no Camelion red like me,
Nor white, perhaps, thou’lt say, like thee;
Why then that mine is farre above
Thy haire, by statute I can prove;
What ever there doth seem divine
Is added to a Rubrick line,
Which whosoever hath but read,
Will grant that mine’s a lawful head.
[White Head.]
2.
Yet adde what thou maist, which by yeares,
Crosses, troubles, cares and feares;
For that kind nature gave to me
In youth a white head, as you see,
At which, though age it selfe repine,
It ne’re shall change a haire of mine;
And all shall say when I am dead,
I onely had a constant head.
1.
Yes faith, in that Ile condescend,
That our dissention here may end,
Though heads be alwaies by the eares,
Yet ours shall be more noble peeres:
For I avouch since I began,
Under a colour all was done.
Then let us mix the White and Red,
And both shall make a beauteous head.
1.
We mind our heads man all this time[,]
And beat them both about this rime;
And I confesse what gave offence
Was but a haires difference.
And that went too as I dare sweare
In both of us against the haire;
Then joyntly now for what is said
Lets crave a pardon from our head.