Canto I
The lives of frail men are compared by the sages Or unto short journeys, or pilgrimages, As men to their inns do come sooner or later, That is, to their ends, to be plain in my matter; From whence when one dead is, it currently follows, He has run his race, though his goal be the gallows; And this 'tis, I fancy, sets folks so a-madding, And makes men and women so eager of gadding; Truth is, in my youth I was one of these people Would have gone a great way to have seen a high steeple, And though I was bred 'mongst the wonders o' th' Peak, Would have thrown away money, and ventured my neck To have seen a great hill, a rock, or a cave, And thought there was nothing so pleasant and brave: But at forty years old you may, if you please, Think me wiser than run such errands as these; Or had the same humour still run in my toes, A voyage to Ireland I ne'er should have chose; But to tell you the truth on 't, indeed it was neither Improvement nor pleasure for which I went thither; I know then you'll presently ask me for what? Why, faith, it was that makes the old woman trot; And therefore I think I'm not much to be blamed If I went to the place whereof Nick was ashamed.
O Coryate! thou traveller famed as Ulysses, In such a stupendous labour as this is, Come lend me the aids of thy hands and thy feet, Though the first be pedantic, the other not sweet, Yet both are so restless in peregrination, They'll help both my journey, and eke my relation.
'Twas now the most beautiful time of the year, The days were now long, and the sky was now clear, And May, that fair lady of splendid renown, Had dressed herself fine, in her flowered tabby gown, When about some two hours and an half after noon, 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 conge), '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, When straight I perceived myself all on a fire; For the two forenamed things had so heated my blood, 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 A most humble obedient servant to sin; And now in devotion was even so proud, I scorned forsooth to join prayer with the crowd; For though courted by all the bells as I went, I was deaf, and regarded not the compliment, But to the cathedral still held on my pace, As't were, scorning to kneel but in the best place. I there made myself sure of good music at least, But was something deceived, for 'twas none of the best: But however I stay'd at the church's commanding Till we came to the 'Peace passes all understanding,' Which no sooner was ended, but whir and away, Like boys in a school when they've leave got to play; All save master mayor, who still gravely stays Till the rest had made room for his worship and's mace: Then he and his brethren in order appear, I out of my stall, and fell into his rear; For why, 'tis much safer appearing, no doubt, In authority's tail, than the head of a rout.
In this rev'rend order we marched from prayer; The mace before me borne as well as the mayor; Who looking behind him, and seeing most plain A glorious gold belt in the rear of his train, Made such a low congé, forgetting his place, I was never so honoured before in my days: But then off went my scalp-case, and down went my fist, Till the pavement, too hard, by my knuckles was kissed; By which, though thick-skulled, he must understand this, That I was a most humble servant of his; Which also so wonderful kindly he took, (As I well perceived both b' his gesture and look,) That to have me dogg'd home he straightway appointed, Resolving, it seems, to be better acquainted. I was scarce in my quarters, and set down on crupper, But his man was there too, to invite me to supper: I start up, and after most respective fashion Gave his worship much thanks for his kind invitation; But begged his excuse, for my stomach was small, And I never did eat any supper at all; But that after supper I would kiss his hands, And would come to receive his worship's commands. Sure no one will say, but a patron of slander, That this was not pretty well for a Moorlander: And since on such reasons to sup I refused, I nothing did doubt to be holden excused; But my quaint repartee had his worship possess'd With so wonderful good a conceit of the rest, That with mere impatience he hoped in his breeches To see the fine fellow that made such fine speeches: 'Go, sirrah!' quoth he, 'get you to him again, And will and require, in his Majesty's name, That he come; and tell him, obey he were best, or I'll teach him to know that he's now in West-Chester.' The man, upon this, comes me running again, But yet minced his message, and was not so plain; Saying to me only, 'Good sir, I am sorry To tell you my master has sent again for you; And has such a longing to have you his guest, That I, with these ears, heard him swear and protest, He would neither say grace, nor sit down on his bum, Nor open his napkin, until you do come.' With that I perceived no excuse would avail, And, seeing there was no defence for a flail, I said I was ready master may'r to obey, And therefore desired him to lead me the way. We went, and ere Malkin could well lick her ear, (For it but the next door was, forsooth) we were there; Where lights being brought me, I mounted the stairs, The worst I e'er saw in my life at a mayor's: But everything else must be highly commended. I there found his worship most nobly attended, Besides such a supper as well did convince, A may'r in his province to be a great prince; As he sat in his chair, he did not much vary, In state nor in face, from our eighth English Harry; But whether his face was swelled up with fat, Or puffed up with glory, I cannot tell that. Being entered the chamber half length of a pike, And cutting of faces exceedingly like One of those little gentlemen brought from the Indies, And screwing myself into congés and cringes, By then I was half-way advanced in the room, His worship most rev'rendly rose from his bum, And with the more honour to grace and to greet me, Advanced a whole step and a half for to meet me; Where leisurely doffing a hat worth a tester, He bade me most heartily welcome to Chester. I thanked him in language the best I was able, And so we forthwith sat us all down to table.
Now here you must note, and 'tis worth observation, That as his chair at one end o' th' table had station; So sweet mistress may'ress, in just such another, Like the fair queen of hearts, sat in state at the other; By which I perceived, though it seemed a riddle, The lower end of this must be just in the middle: But perhaps 'tis a rule there, and one that would mind it Amongst the town-statutes 'tis likely might find it. But now into the pottage each deep his spoon claps, As in truth one might safely for burning one's chaps, When straight, with the look and the tone of a scold, Mistress may'ress complained that the pottage was cold; 'And all 'long of your fiddle-faddle,' quoth she. 'Why, what then, Goody Two-Shoes, what if it be? Hold you, if you can, your tittle-tattle,' quoth he. I was glad she was snapped thus, and guessed by th' discourse, The may'r, not the gray mare, was the better horse, And yet for all that, there is reason to fear, She submitted but out of respect to his year: However 'twas well she had now so much grace, Though not to the man, to submit to his place; For had she proceeded, I verily thought My turn would the next be, for I was in fault: But this brush being past, we fell to our diet, And every one there filled his belly in quiet. Supper being ended, and things away taken, Master mayor's curiosity 'gan to awaken; Wherefore making me draw something nearer his chair, He willed and required me there to declare My country, my birth, my estate, and my parts, And whether I was not a master of arts; And eke what the business was had brought me thither, With what I was going about now, and whither: Giving me caution, no lie should escape me, For if I should trip, he should certainly trap me. I answered, my country was famed Staffordshire; That in deeds, bills, and bonds, I was ever writ squire; That of land I had both sorts, some good, and some evil, But that a great part on't was pawned to the devil; That as for my parts, they were such as he saw; That, indeed, I had a small smatt'ring of law, Which I lately had got more by practice than reading, By sitting o' th' bench, whilst others were pleading; But that arms I had ever more studied than arts, And was now to a captain raised by my deserts; That the business which led me through Palatine ground Into Ireland was, whither now I was bound; Where his worship's great favour I loud will proclaim, And in all other places wherever I came. He said, as to that, I might do what I list, But that I was welcome, and gave me his fist; When having my fingers made crack with his gripes, He called to his man for some bottles and pipes.
To trouble you here with a longer narration Of the several parts of our confabulation, Perhaps would be tedious; I'll therefore remit ye Even to the most rev'rend records of the city, Where, doubtless, the acts of the may'rs are recorded, And if not more truly, yet much better worded.
In short, then, we piped and we tippled Canary, Till my watch pointed one in the circle horary; When thinking it now was high time to depart, His worship I thanked with a most grateful heart; And because to great men presents are acceptable, I presented the may'r, ere I rose from the table, With a certain fantastical box and a stopper; And he having kindly accepted my offer, I took my fair leave, such my visage adorning, And to bed, for I was to rise early i' th' morning.