Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy Volume V Part 31

His Buckler prov'd his chiefest Fence, For still the Shepherd's Hook; Was that the which King _Alfred_ could, In no good manner brook.

At last when they had fought four Hours, And it grew just Mid-day; And wearied both, with right good Will, Desir'd each others stay.

King, Truce I cry, quoth _Alfred_ then, Good Shepherd hold thy Hand: A st.u.r.dier Fellow than thy self, Lives not within this Land.

Nor a l.u.s.tier Roister than thou art, The churlish Shepherd said, To tell thee plain, thy Thievish looks, Now makes my Heart afraid.

Else sure thou art some Prodigal, Which hast consum'd thy store; And now com'st wand'ring in this place, To rob and steal for more.

Deem not of me, then quoth our King, Good Shepherd in this sort; A Gentleman well known I am, In good King _Alfred's_ Court.

The Devil thou art, the Shepherd said, Thou goest in Rags all torn; Thou rather seem'st, I think to be, Some Beggar basely born.

But if thou wilt mend thy Estate, And here a Shepherd be; At Night to _Gillian_ my sweet Wife, Thou shalt go home with me.

For she's as good a Toothless Dame, As mumbleth on Brown Bread; Where thou shalt lie on hurden Sheets, Upon a fresh Straw Bed.

Of Whig and Whey, we have good store, And keep good Pease-straw Fires; And now and then good Barly Cakes, As better Days requires.

But for my Master which is Chief, And Lord of _Newton_ Court; He keeps I say, his Shepherds Swains, In far more braver sort.

We there have Curds, and clouted Cream, Of Red Cows morning Milk; And now and then fine b.u.t.tered Cakes, As soft as any Silk.

Of Beef and reised Bacon store, That is most Fat and Greasy; We have likewise to feast our Chaps, And make them glib and easie.

Thus if thou wilt my Man become, This usage thou shalt have; If not, adieu, go hang thy self, And so farewel Sir Knave.

King _Alfred_ hearing of this Glee, The churlish Shepherd said; Was well content to be his Man, So they a Bargain made.

A Penny round, the Shepherd gave, In earnest of this Match; To keep his Sheep in Field and fold, As Shepherds use to watch.

His Wages shall be full Ten Groats, For Service of a Year; Yet was it not his use, old Lad, To hire a Man so dear.

For did the King himself (quoth he) Unto my Cottage come; He should not for a Twelvemonths Pay, Receive a greater Sum.

Hereat the bonny King grew blith, To hear the clownish Jest; How silly sots, as custom is, Do discant at the best.

But not to spoil the Foolish sport, He was content good King; To fit the Shepherd's humour right, In every kind of thing.

A Sheep-hook then, with _Patch_ his Dog, And Tar-box by his side; He with his Master, jig by jowl, Unto old _Gillian_ hy'd.

Into whose sight no sooner came, Whom have you here (quoth she) A Fellow I doubt, will cut our Throats, So like a Knave looks he.

Not so old Dame, quoth _Alfred_ strait, Of me you need not fear; My Master hir'd me for Ten Groats, To serve you one whole Year.

So good Dame _Gillian_ grant me leave, Within your House to stay; For by St. _Ann_, do what you can, I will not yet away.

Her churlish usage pleas'd him still, Put him to such a Proof, That he at Night was almost choak'd, Within that smoaky Roof.

But as he sat with smiling cheer, The event of all to see; His Dame brought forth a piece of Dow, Which in the Fire throws she.

Where lying on the Hearth to bake, By chance the Cake did burn; What can'st thou not, thou Lout (quoth she) Take Pains the same to turn:

Thou art more quick to take it out, And eat it up half Dow, Than thus to stay till't be enough, And so thy Manners show.

But serve me such another Trick, I'll thwack thee on the Snout; Which made the patient King, good Man, Of her to stand in Doubt:

But to be brief, to bed they went, The good old Man and's Wife; But never such a Lodging had King _Alfred_ in his Life:

For he was laid in white Sheeps Wool, New pull'd from tanned Fells, And o'er his Head hang'd Spiders Webbs, As if they had been Bells.

Is this the Country Guise, thought he, Then here I will not stay; But hence be gone as soon as breaks The peeping of the Day.

The cackling Hens and Geese kept roost, And perched at his side; Whereat the last the watchful c.o.c.k, Made known the Morning Tide.

Then up got _Alfred_ with his Horn, And blew so long a Blast, That made _Gillian_ and her Groom, In Bed full sore agast.

Arise, quoth she, we are undone, This Night, we lodged have, At unawares within our House, A false dissembling Knave;

Rise Husband, rise, he'll cut our Throats, He calleth for his Mates, I'd give old _Will_ our good Cade Lamb, He would depart our Gates.

But still King _Alfred_ blew his Horn before them, more and more, 'Till that a hundred Lords and Knights, All lighted at the Door:

Which cry'd all hail, all hail good King, Long have we look'd your Grace; And here you find (my merry Men all) Your Sovereign in this place.

We shall surely be hang'd up both, Old _Gillian_ I much fear, The Shepherd said, for using thus Our good King _Alfred_ here:

O pardon, my Liege, quoth _Gillian_ then, For my Husband and for me, By these ten Bones I never thought The same that now I see:

And by my Hook, the Shepherd said, An Oath both good and true, Before this time, O n.o.ble King, I never your Highness knew:

Then pardon me and my old Wife, That we may after say, When first you came into our House, It was a happy Day.

It shall be done, said _Alfred_ streight, And _Gillian_ thy old Dame, For this thy churlish using me, Deserveth not much Blame.

For this thy Country Guise I see, To be thus bluntish still, And where the plainest Meaning is, Remains the smallest Ill.

And Master, lo I tell thee now, For thy low Manhood shown, A Thousand Weathers I'll bestow Upon thee for thy own.

And pasture Ground, as much as will Suffice to feed them all, And this thy Cottage I will change Into a stately Hall.

As for the same, as Duty binds, The Shepherd said, good King, A milk white Lamb once every Year, I'll to your Highness bring.

And _Gillian_ my Wife likewise, Of Wool to make you Coats, Will give you as much at New Year's Tide, As shall be worth ten Groats:

And in your Praise my Bagpipe shall Sound sweetly once a Year, How _Alfred_ our renowned King, Most kindly hath been here.

Thanks Shepherd, thanks, quoth he again The next time I come hither, My Lords with me here in this House, Will all be merry together.