When it grew something late, though I thought it too

soon,

With a pitiful voice, and a most heavy heart,
I tuned up my pipes to sing 'loth to depart;'
The ditty concluded, I called for my horse,
And with a good pack did the jument endorse,
Till he groaned and he f―d under the burden,
For sorrow had made me a cumbersome lurden:
And now farewell, Dove, where I've caught such brave
dishes

Of over-grown, golden, and silver-scaled fishes;
Thy trout and thy grayling may now feed securely,
I've left none behind me can take 'em so surely;
Feed on then, and breed on, until the next year,
But if I return I expect my arrear.

By pacing and trotting betimes in the even,
Ere the sun had forsaken one half of the heaven,
We all at fair Congerton took up our inn,

Where the sign of a king kept a King and his queen:
But who do you think came to welcome me there?
No worse a man, marry, than good master mayor,
With his staff of command, yet the man was not lame,
But he needed it more when he went, than he came;
After three or four hours of friendly potation,
We took leave each of other in courteous fashion,
When each one, to keep his brains fast in his head,
Put on a good nightcap, and straightway to bed.

Next morn, having paid for boiled, roasted, and bacon,
And of sovereign hostess our leaves kindly taken,
(For her king, as 'twas rumoured, by late pouring down,
This morning had got a foul flaw in his crown,)
We mounted again, and full soberly riding,
Three miles we had rid ere we met with a biding;
But there, having over-night plied the tap well,

We now must needs water at a place called Holmes

Chapel:

'A hay!' quoth the foremost, 'ho! who keeps the house?" Which said, out an host comes as brisk as a louse; His hair combed as sleek as a barber he'd been, A cravat with black ribbon tied under his chin; Though by what I saw in him, I straight 'gan to fear That knot would be one day slipped under his ear. Quoth he (with low congé), 'What lack you, my lord?' 'The best liquor,' quoth I, that the house will afford.' 'You shall straight,' quoth he; and then calls out, Mary, Come quickly, and bring us a quart of Canary.'

'Hold, hold, my spruce host! for i' th' morning so early,
I never drink liquor but what's made of barley.'
Which words were scarce out, but, which made me admire,
My lordship was presently turned into 'squire:

'Ale, 'squire, you mean?' quoth he nimbly again, 'What, must it be purled'—'No, I love it best plain.' 'Why, if you'll drink ale, sir, pray take my advice, Here's the best ale i' th' land, if you'll go to the price; Better, I sure am, ne'er blew out a stopple; But then, in plain truth, it is sixpence a bottle.' 'Why, faith,' quoth I, 'friend, if your liquor be such, For the best ale in England, it is not too much: Let's have it, and quickly.'-'O sir! you may stay; A pot in your pate is a mile in your way: Come, bring out a bottle here presently, wife,

Of the best Cheshire hum he e'er drank in his life.'
Straight out comes the mistress in waistcoat of silk,
As clear as a milkmaid, as white as her milk,

With visage as oval and sleek as an egg,
As straight as an arrow, as right as my leg:
A curtsey she made, as demure as a sister,
I could not forbear, but alighted and kissed her:

Then ducking another, with most modest mien,

The first word she said was, 'Will 't please you walk in?'
I thanked her; but told her, I then could not stay,
For the haste of my business did call me away.
She said, she was sorry it fell out so odd,

But if, when again I should travel that road,

I would stay there a night, she assured me the nation
Should nowhere afford better accommodation:
Meanwhile my spruce landlord has broken the cork,
And called for a bodkin, though he had a fork;
But I showed him a screw, which I told my brisk gull
A trepan was for bottles had broken their skull;
Which, as it was true, he believed without doubt,
But 'twas I that applied it, and pulled the cork out.
Bounce, quoth the bottle, the work being done,
It roared, and it smoked, like a new-fired gun;
But the shot missed us all, or else we'd been routed,
Which yet was a wonder, we were so about it.
Mine host poured and filled, till he could fill no fuller.:
'Look here, sir,' quoth he, 'both for nap and for colour,
Sans bragging, I hate it, nor will I e'er do't;
I defy Leek, and Lambhith, and Sandwich, to boot."
By my troth, he said true, for I speak it with tears,
Though I have been a toss-pot these twenty good years,
And have drank so much liquor has made me a debtor,
In my days, that I know of, I never drank better:
We found it so good and we drank so profoundly,
That four good round shillings were whipt away roundly;
And then I conceived it was time to be jogging,
For our work had been done, had we stay'd t'other
noggin.

From thence we set forth with more metal and spright,
Our horses were empty, our coxcombs were light;
O'er Dellamore forest we, tantivy, posted,

Till our horses were basted as if they were roasted:
In truth, we pursued might have been by our haste,
And I think Sir George Booth did not gallop so fast,
Till about two o'clock after noon, God be blest,
We came, safe and sound, all to Chester i' th' west.

And now in high time 'twas to call for some meat,
Though drinking does well, yet some time we must eat:
And i' faith we had victuals both plenty and good,
Where we all laid about us as if we were wood:
Go thy ways, Mistress Anderton, for a good woman,
Thy guests shall by thee ne'er be turned to a common;
And whoever of thy entertainment complains,
Let him lie with a drab, and be poxed for his pains.

And here I must stop the career of my Muse, The poor jade is weary, 'las! how should she choose? And if I should further here spur on my course, I should, questionless, tire both my wits and my horse: To-night let us rest, for 'tis good Sunday's even, To-morrow to church, and ask pardon of Heaven. Thus far we our time spent, as here I have penned it, An odd kind of life, and 'tis well if we mend it: But to-morrow (God willing) we'll have t'other bout, And better or worse be 't, for murder will out, Our future adventures we'll lay down before ye, For my Muse is deep sworn to use truth of the story.

CANTO II.

After seven hours' sleep, to commute for pains taken,
A man of himself, one would think, might awaken;
But riding, and drinking hard, were two such spells,
I doubt I'd slept on, but for jangling of bells,
Which, ringing to matins all over the town,
Made me leap out of bed, and put on my gown,

With intent (so God mend me) t' have gone to the choir,

my

blood,

When straight I perceived myself all on a fire;
For the two forenamed things had so heated
That a little phlebotomy would do me good:
I sent for chirurgeon, who came in a trice,
And swift to shed blood, needed not be called twice,
But tilted stiletto quite thorough the vein,

From whence issued out the ill humours amain;
When having twelve ounces, he bound up my arm,
And I gave him two Georges, which did him no harm:
But after my bleeding, I soon understood

It had cooled my devotion as well as my blood;
For I had no more mind to look on my psalter,
Than (saving your presence) I had to a halter;
But, like a most wicked and obstinate sinner,
Then sat in my chamber till folks came to dinner:
I dined with good stomach, and very good cheer,
With a very fine woman, and good ale and beer;
When myself having stuffed than a bagpipe more full,
I fell to my smoking until I grew dull;

And, therefore, to take a fine nap thought it best,
For when belly full is, bones would be at rest:
I tumbled me down on my bed like a swad,
Where, oh! the delicious dream that I had!
Till the bells, that had been my morning molesters,
Now waked me again, chiming all in to vespers:
With that starting up, for my man I did whistle,

And combed out and powdered my locks that were grizzle;

Had my clothes neatly brushed, and then put on my

sword,

Resolved now to go and attend on the word.

Thus tricked, and thus trim, to set forth I begin, Neat and cleanly without, but scarce cleanly within ; For why, Heaven knows it, I long time had been