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All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet

Being Sixty and three in Number. Collected into one Volume by the Author [i.e. John Taylor]: With sundry new Additions, corrected, reuised, and newly Imprinted

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[List Lordings, list (if you haue lust to list)]
  
  
  
  
  
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[List Lordings, list (if you haue lust to list)]

List Lordings, list (if you haue lust to list)
I write not here a tale of had I wist:
But you shall heare of trauels, and relations,
Descriptions of strange (yet English) fashions.
And he that not beleeues what here is writ,
Let him (as I haue done) make proofe of it.
The yeere of grace, accounted (as I weene)
One thousand, twice three hundred and eighteene,
And to relate all things in order duly,
'Twas Tuesday last, the foureteenth day of Iuly,
Saint Reuels day, the Almanacke will tell ye
The signe in Virgo was, or neere the belly:
The Moone full three dayes old, the wind full South;
At these times I began this tricke of youth.
I speake not of the Tide, for vnderstand,
My legges I made my Oares, and rowd by land,
Though in the morning I began to goe,
Good fellowes trooping, flock'd me so,
That make what haste I could, the Sunne was set,
E're from the gates of London I could get.
At last I tooke my latest leaue, thus late
At the Bell Inne, that's extra Aldersgate.
There stood a horse that my prouant should carrie,
From that place to the end of my fegarie,
My Horse no Horse, or Mare, but gelded Nagge,
That with good vnderstanding bore my bagge:
And of good cariage he himselfe did show,
These things are ex'lent in a beaste you know.
There in my Knapsack, (to pay hungers fees)
I had good Bacon, Bisket, Neates-tongue, Cheese,
With Roses, Barberies, of each Conserues,
And Mitridate, that vigrous health preserues:
And I entreate you take these words for no-lyes,
I had good Aqua vita, Rosa so-lies:
With sweet Ambrosia, (the gods owne drinke)
Most ex'lent geere for mortals, as I thinke.
Besides, I had both vineger and oyle,
That could a daring sawcie stomack foyle.
This foresaid Tuesday night 'twixt eight and nine,
Well rigg'd & ballac'd, both with Beere and Wine,
I stumbling forward, thus my iaunt begun,
And went that night as farre as Islington.
There did I finde (I dare affirme it bold)
A Maydenhead of twenty fiue yeeres old,
But surely it was painted, like a whore,
And for a signe, or wonder, hang'd at' dore,
Which shewes a Maidenhead, that's kept so long,
May be hang'd vp, and yet sustaine no wrong.
There did my louing friendly Host begin
To entertaine me freely to his Inne:
And there my friends, and good associates,
Each one to mirth himselfe accommodates.
At Wel-head both for welcome, and for cheere,
Hauing a good New tonne, of good stale Beere:
There did we Trundle downe health, after health,
(Which oftentimes impaires both health & wealth.)

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Till euery one had fill'd his mortall Trunke.
And onely Nobody was three parts drunke.
The morrow next, Wednesday Saint Swithins day,
From ancient Islington I tooke my way.
At Hollywell I was inforc'd carrowse,
Ale high, and mightie, at the Blind-mans house.
But ther's a helpe to make amends for all,
That though the Ale be great, the Pots be small.
At High-gate hill to a strange house I went,
And saw the people were to eating bent,
I neither borrow'd, Crau'd, Ask'd, Begg'd or Bought,
But most laborious with my teeth I wrought.
I did not this, 'cause meate or drinke was scant,
But I did practise thus before my want;
Like to a Tilter that would winne the prize,
Before the day hee'le often exercise.
So I began to put in vre, at first
These principles 'gainst hunger, 'gainst thirst.
Close to the Gate, there dwelt a worthy man,
That well could take his whiffe, & quaffe his Can,
Right Robin Good-fellow, but humours euill,
Doe call him Robin Pluto, or the Deuill.
But finding him a Deuill, freely harted,
With friendly farewels I tooke leaue and parted.
And as alongst I did my Iourney take,
I dranke at Breemes well, for pure fashions sake.
Two miles I trauelled then without a bayte,
The Sarazens head at Whetstone entring straight,
I found an Host, might lead an Host of men,
Exceeding Fat, yet named Lean, and Fen.
And though we make small reckoning of him here,
Hee's knowne to be a very Great man there.
There I tooke leaue of all my Company,
Bade all farewell, yet spake to No-body.
Good Reader thinke not strange, what I compile,
For No-body was with me all this while.
And No-body did drinke, and, winke, and scinke,
And on occasion freely spent his Chinke.
If any one desire to know the man,
Walke, stumble, Trundle, but in Barbican.
Ther's as good Beere and Ale as euer twang'd,
And in that street kind No-body is hang'd.
But leauing him vnto his matchlesse fame,
I to St. Albanes in the Euening came,
Where Master Taylor, at the Sarazens head,
Vnask'd (vnpaid for) me both lodg'd and fed.
The Tapsters, Hostlers, Chamberlaines, and all,
Sau'd me a labour, that I need not call,
The Iugges were fild & fild, the cups went round,
And in a word great kindnes there I found,
For which both to my Cousin, and his men,
Ile still be thankefull in word, deed, and pen.
Till Thursday morning there I made my stay,
And then I went plaine Dunstable high-way.
My very heart with drought me thought did shrink,
I went twelue miles, and no one bade me drinke.
Which made me call to minde, that instant time,
That Drunkennes was a most sinfull crime.
When Puddle-hill I footed downe, and past
A mile from thence, I found a Hedge at last.
There stroke we sayle, our Bacon, Cheese, and Bread,
We drew like Fidlers, and like Farmers fed,
And whilst two houres we there did take our ease,
My Nag made shift to mump greene Pulse & Pease.
Thus we our hungry stomacks did supply,
And dranke the water of a Brooke hard by.
Away t'ward Hockley in the hole, we make,
When straight a Horsman did me ouer-take,
Who knew me, & would faine haue giuen me Coine.
I said, my Bonds did me from Coyne inioyne,
I thank'd and prayd him to put vp his Chinke,
And willingly I wisht it drownd in drinke.
Away rode he, but like an honest man,
I found at Hockley standing at the Swan,
A formall Tapster, with a Iugge and glasse,
Who did arest me: I most willing was
To try the Action, and straight put in bale,
My fees were paid before, with sixe-pence Ale.
To quit this kindnesse, I most willing am,
The man that paid for all, his name is Dam,
At the Greene-dragon, against Grayes-Inne gate,
He liues in good repute, and honest state.
I foreward went in this my roauing race,
To Stony Stratford I toward night did pace,
My minde was fixed through the Towne to passe,
To finde some lodging in the Hay or Grasse,
But at the Queenes-Armes, from the window there,
A comfortable voyce I chanc'd to heare,
Call Taylor, Taylor, and be hang'd come hither,
I look'd for small intreaty and went thither,
There were some friends, which I was glad to see
Who knew my Iourney; lodg'd, and boorded me.
On Friday morne, as I would take my way,
My friendly Host intreated me to stay,
Because it rain'd, he told me I should haue
Meate, Drinke, & Horse-meate and not pay or craue.
I thank'd him, and for's loue remaine his debter,
But if I liue, I will requite him better.
(From Stony Stratford) the way hard with stones,
Did founder me, and vexe me to the bones,
In blustring weather, both for winde and raine,
Through Tocetter I trotted with much paine,
Two miles from thence, we sat vs downe & dinde,
Well bulwark'd by a hedge, from raine and winde
We hauing fed, away incontinent,
With weary pace toward Dauentry we went.
Foure miles short of it, one o're-tooke me there,
And told me he would leaue a Iugge of Beere,
At Dauentry at the Horse-shoe for my vse.
I thought it no good manners to refuse,
But thank'd him, for his kinde vnasked gift,
Whilst I was lame as scarce a leg could lift,

124

Came limping after to that stony Towne,
Whose hard streets made me almost halt rightdown.
There had my friend perform'd the words he said,
And at the doore a Iugge of liquor staide,
The folkes were all inform'd, before I came,
How, and wherefore my iourney I did frame,
Which caused mine Hostesse from her doore come out,
(Hauing a great Wart rampant on her snowt.)
The Tapsters, Hostlers, one another call,
The Chamberlaines with admiration all,
Were fild with wonder, more then wonderfull,
As if some Monster sent from the Mogull,
Some Elephant from Africke, I had beene,
Or some strange beast from th' Amazonian Queene.
As Buzzards, Widgions, Woodcocks, & such fowle,
Doe gaze and wonder at the broad-fac'd Owle,
So did these brainelesse Asses, all-amaz'd,
With admirable Non sence talk'd and gaz'd.
They knew my state (although not told by me)
That I could scarcely goe, they all could see,
They dranke of my Beere, that to me was giuen,
But gaue me not a drop to make all euen,
And that which in my minde was most amisse,
My Hostesse she stood by and saw all this,
Had she but said, Come neere the house, my friend,
For this day here shall be your Iourneyes end,
Then had she done the thing which did not,
And I in kinder wordes had paid the shor.
I doe intreat my friends, (as I haue some)
If they to Dauentry doe chance to come,
That they will balke that Inne; or if by chance,
Or accident into that house they glance,
Kinde Gentlemen, as they by you reape profit,
My Hostesse care of me, pray tell her of it.
Yet doe not neither: Lodge there when you will,
You for your money shall be welcome still.
From thence that night, although my bones were sore,
I made a shift to hobble seu'n miles more:
The way to Dunchurch, foule with dirt and mire,
Able, I thinke, both man and horse to tire.
On Dunsmore Heath, a hedge doth there enclose
Grounds, on the right hand, there I did repose.
Wits whetstone, want, there made vs quickly learn,
With kniues to cut down Rushes, & greene Fearne,
Of which we made a field-bed in the field,
Which sleepe, and rest, and much content did yeeld.
There with my mother Earth, I thought it fit
To lodge, and yet no Incest did commit:
My bed was Curtain'd with good wholesome ayres,
And being weary, I went vp no stayres:
The skie my Canopy, bright Phebe shinde,
Sweet bawling Zephirus breath'd gentle winde,
In heau'ns Star-Chamber I did lodge that night,
Ten thousand Starres, me to my bed did light;
There baracadoed with a bancke lay wee
Below the lofty branches of a tree.
There my bed-fellowes and companions were,
My Man, my Horse, a Bull, foure Cowes, two Steere:
But yet for all this most confused rowt,
We had no bed-staues, yet we fell not out.
Thus Nature, like an ancient free Vpholster,
Did furnish vs with bedstead, bed, and bolster;
And the kind skies, (for which high heau'n be thanked,
Allow'd vs a large Couering and a Blanket:
Auroras face gan light our lodging darke,
We arose and mounted, with the mounting Larke,
Through plashes, puddles, thicke, thinne, wet & dry,
I trauel'd to the Citie Couentry.
There Master Doctor Holland caus'd me stay
The day of Saturne, and the Sabbath day.
Most friendly welcome, he did me afford,
I was so entertain'd at bed and boord,
Which as I dare not bragge how much it was,
I dare not be ingrate and let it passe,
But with thankes many I remember it,
(In stead of his good deedes) in words and writ,
He vs'd me like his sonne, more then a friend,
And he on Munday his commends did send
To Newhall, where a Gentleman did dwell,
Who by his name is hight Sacheuerell.
The Tuesday Iulyes one and twentieth day,
I to the Citie Lichfield tooke my way,
At Sutton Coffill with some friends I met,
And much adoe I had from thence to get,
There I was almost put vnto my trumps,
My Horses shooes were worne as thinne as pumps;
But noble Uulcan, a mad smuggy Smith,
All reparations me did furnish with.
The shooes were well remou'd, my Palfrey shod,
And he referr'd the payment vnto God.
I found a friend, when I to Lichfield came,
A Ioyner, and Iohn Piddock is his name,
He made me welcome, for he knew my iaunt,
And he did furnish me with good prouant:
He offred me some money, I refus'd it,
And so I tooke my leaue, with thankes excus'd it.
That Wednesday, I a weary way did passe,
Raine, wind, stones, dirt, and dabbling dewie grasse,
With here and there a pelting scatter'd village,
Which yeelded me no charity, or pillage:
For all the day, nor yet the night that followed.
One drop of drinke I'm sure my gullet swallowed.
At night I came t'a stony Towne call'd Stone.
Where I knew none, nor was I knowne of none:
I therefore through the streets held on my pace,
Some two miles farther to some resting place:
At last I spide a meddow newly mowde,
The hay was rotten, the ground halfe o're-flowde:
We made a breach, and entred horse and man,
There our pauillion, we to pitch began,
Which we erected with greene Broome and Hay,
T'expell the cold, and keepe the raine away;

125

The skie all muffled in a cloud gan lowre,
And presently there fell a mighty showre,
Which without intermission downe did powre,
From ten a night, vntill the mornings foure.
We all that time close in our couch did lye,
Which being well compacted kept vs dry.
The worst was, we did neither sup nor sleepe,
And so a temperate dyet we did keepe.
The morning all enrob'd in drisling fogges,
We being as ready as we had bin dogges:
We neede not stand vpon long ready making,
But gaping, stretching, & our eares well shaking:
And for I found my Host and Hostesse kinde,
I like a true man left my sheetes behinde.
That Thursday morne, my weary course I fram'd,
Vnto a Towne that is Newcastle nam'd.
(Not that Newcastle standing vpon Tine)
But this Towne scituation doth confine
Neere Cheshire, in the famous County Stafford,
And for their loue, I owe them not a straw for't;
But now my versing Muse craues some repose,
And whilst she sleeps Ile spowt a little prose.
And now with sleep my Muse hath eas'd her braine,
I'le turne my stile from prose, to verse againe.
That which we could not haue, we freely spar'd,
And wanting drinke, most soberly we far'd.
We had great store of fowle (but 'twas foule way)
And kindly euery step entreates me stay,
The clammy clay sometimes my heeles would trip,
One foot went foreward, th'other backe would slip.
This weary day, when I had almost past,
I came vnto Sir Urian Legh's at last,
At Adlington, neere Macksfield he doth dwell,
Belou'd, respected, and reputed well.
Through his great loue, my stay with him was fixt,
From Thursday night, till noone on Monday next,
At his owne table I did daily eate,
Whereat may be suppos'd, did want no meat,
He would haue giu'n me gold or siluer either,
But I with many thankes, receiued neither.
And thus much without flattery I dare sweare,
He is a Knight beloued farre and neere.
First, he's beloued of his God aboue,
(which loue, he loues to keep, beyond all loue)
Next with a Wife and Children he is blest,
Each hauing Gods feare planted in their brest.
With faire Demaines, Reuennue of good Lands,
He's fairely blest by the Almighties hands.
And as he's happy in these outward things,
So from his inward mind continuall springs
Fruits of deuotion, deedes of Piety,
Good hospitable workes of Charity,
Iust in his Actions, constant in his word,
And one that wonne his honour with the sword.
Hee's no Carranto, Capr'ing, Carpet Knight,
But he knowes when, and how to speake or fight.
I cannot flatter him, say what I can,
He's euery way a compleat Gentleman.
I write not this, for what he did to me,
But what mine eares, and eyes did heare and see,
Nor doe I pen this to enlarge his fame,
But to make others imitate the same.
For like a Trumpet were I pleasd to blow,
I would his worthy worth more amply show,
But I already feare haue beene too bold,
And craue his pardon, me excusd to hold.
Thankes to his Sonnes and seruants euery one,
Both males and females all, excepting none.
To beare a letter he did me require,
Neere Manchester, vnto a good Esquire:

126

His kinsman Edmond Prestwitch, he ordain'd,
That I was at Manchester entertain'd
Two nights, and one day, ere we thence could passe,
For men & horse, rost, boyl'd, and oates, and grasse:
This Gentleman not onely gaue harbor,
But in the morning sent to me his Barbor,
Who lau'd, and shau'd me, still I spar'd my purse,
Yet sure he left me many a haire the worse.
But in conclusion, when his worke was ended,
His Glasse inform'd, my face was much amended.
And for the kindnesse he to me did show,
God grant his Customers beards faster grow,
That though the time of yeere be deare or cheape,
From fruitfull faces he may mowe and reape.
Then came a Smith, with shooes, & Tooth & Nayle,
He searchd my horse hooues, mēding what did faile,
Yet this I note, my Nag, through stones and dirt,
Did shift shooes twice, ere I did shift one shirt:
Can these kind things be in obliuion hid?
No, Master Prestwitch, this and much more did,
His friendship did command and freely gaue
All before writ, and more then I durst craue.
But leauing him a little, I must tell,
How men of Manchester did vse me well,
Their loues they on the tenter-hookes did racke,
Rost, boyld, bak'd, too too much, white, claret, sacke,
Nothing they thought too heauy or too hot,
Canne follow'd Canne, and Pot succeeded Pot,
That what they could do, all they though too little,
Striuing in loue the Traueller to whittle.
We went into the house of one Iohn Pinners,
(A man that liues amongst a crue of sinners)
And there eight seuerall sorts of Ale we had,
All able to make one starke drunke or mad.
But I with courage brauely flinched not,
And gaue the Towne leaue to discharge the shot.
We had at one time set vpon the Table,
Good Ale of Hisope, 'twas no Esope fable:
Then had we Ale of Sage, and Ale of Malt,
And Ale of Woorme-wood, that could make one halt,
With Ale of Rosemary, and Bettony,
And two Ales more, or else I needs must lye.
But to conclude this drinking Alye tale,
We had a sort of Ale, called Scuruy Ale.
Thus all these men, at their owne charge & cost,
Did striue whose loue should be expressed most.
And farther to declare their boundlesse loues,
They saw I wanted, and they gaue me Gloues,
In deed, and very deed, their loues were such.
That in their praise I cannot write too much;
They merit more then I haue here compil'd,
I lodged at the Eagle and the Child,
Whereas my Hostesse, (a good ancient woman)
Did entertaine me with respect, not common.
She caus'd my Linnen, Shirts, and Bands be washt,
And on my way she caus'd me be refresht,
She gaue me twelue silke points, she gaue me Baken,
Which by me much refused, at last was taken,
In troath she prou'd a mother vnto me,
For which, I euermore will thankefull be.
But when to minde these kindnesses I call,
Kinde Master Prestwitch Author is of all,
And yet Sir Urian Leigh's good Commendation,
Was the maine ground of this my Recreation.
From both of them, there what I had, I had,
Or else my entertainment had bin bad.
O all you worthy men of Manchester,
(True bred bloods of the County Lancaster)
When I forget what you to me haue done,
Then let me head-long to confusion runne.
To Noble Master Prestwitch I must giue
Thankes, vpon thankes, as long as I doe liue,
His loue was such, I ne'r can pay the score,
He farre surpassed all that went before,
A horse and man he sent, with boundlesse bounty,
To bring me quite through Lancasters large County,
Which I well know is fifty miles at large,
And he defrayed all the cost and charge.
This vnlook'd pleasure, was to me such pleasure,
That I can ne'r expresse my thankes with measure.
So Mistresse Saracoale, Hostesse kinde,
And Manchester with thankes I left behinde.
The Wednesday being Iulyes twenty nine,
My Iourney I to Preston did confine,
All the day long it rained but one showre,
Which from the Morning to the Eue'n did powre,
And I, before to Preston I could get,
Was sowsd, and pickeld both with raine and sweat.
But there I was supply'd with fire and food,
And any thing I wanted sweet and good.
There, at the Hinde, kinde Master Hinde mine Host,
Kept a good table, bak'd and boyld, and rost,
There Wednesday, Thursday, Friday I did stay,
And hardly got from thence on Saturday.
Vnto my Lodging often did repaire,
Kinde Master Thomas Banister, the Mayor,
Who is of worship, and of good respect,
And in his charge discreet and circumspect.
For I protest to God I neuer saw,
A Towne more wisely Gouern'd by the Law.
They told me when my Soueraigne there was last,
That one mans rashnes seem'd to giue distast.
It grieu'd them all, but when at last they found,
His Maiestie was pleasd, their ioyes were crown'd.
He knew, the fairest Garden hath some weedes,
He did accept their kinde intents, for deedes:
One man there was, that with his zeale too hot,
And furious haste, himselfe much ouer-shot.
But what man is so foolish, that desires
To get good fruit from thistles, thornes and bryers?
Thus much I thought good to demonstrate here,
Because I saw how much they grieued were;

127

That any way, the least part of offence,
Should make them seeme offensiue to their Prince.
Thus three nights was I staid and lodg'd in Preston,
And saw nothing ridiculous to iest on,
Much cost and charge the Mayor vpon me spent,
And on my way two miles, with me he went,
There (by good chance) I did more friendship get,
The vnder Shriefe of Lancashire we met,
A Gentleman that lou'd, and knew me well,
And one whose bounteous mind doth beare the bell.
There, as if I had bin a noted thiefe,
The Mayor deliuered me vnto the Shriefe.
The Shriefes authority did much preuaile,
He sent me vnto one that kept the Iayle.
Thus I perambuling, poore Iohn Taylor,
Was giu'n from Mayor to Shriefe, from Shriefe to Iaylor,
The Iaylor kept an Inne, good beds, good cheere,
Where paying nothing, I found nothing deere:
For the vnder Shriefe kind Master Couill nam'd,
(A man for house-keeping renown'd and fam'd)
Did cause the Towne of Lancaster afford
Me welcome, as if I had beene a Lord.
And 'tis reported, that for daily bounty,
His mate can scarce be found in all that County.
Th'extremes of mizer, or of prodigall,
He shunnes, and liues discreet and liberall,
His wiues minde, and his owne are one, so fixt,
That Argus eyes could see no oddes betwixt,
And sure the difference, (if there difference be)
Is who shall doe most good, or he, or she.
Poore folks report, that for relieuing them,
He and his wife, are each of them a Iem;
At th'Inne, and at his house two nights I staide,
And what was to be paid, I know he paide;
If nothing of their kindnesse I had wrote,
Ingratefull me the world might iustly note:
Had I declar'd all I did heare, and see,
For a great flatt'rer then I deemd should be,
Him and his wife, and modest daughter Besse,
With Earth, and Heau'ns felicity, God blesse.
Two dayes a man of his, at his command,
Did guide me to the midst of Westmerland,
And my Conductor with a liberall fist,
To keepe me moist, scarce any Alehouse mist.
The fourth of August (weary, halt, and lame)
We in the darke, t'a Towne call'd Sebder came,
There Master Borrowd, my kind honest Host,
Vpon me did bestow vnasked cost.
The next day I held on my iourney still,
Sixe miles vnto a place call'd Carling hill,
Where Master Edmond Branthwaite doth recide,
Who made me welcome, with my man and guide.
Our entertainement, and our fare was such,
It might haue satisfied our betters much;
Yet all too little was, his kind heart thought,
And fiue miles on my way himselfe me brought,
At Orton he, I, and my man did dine,
With Master Corney a good true Diuine,
And surely Master Branthwait's well belou'd,
His firme integrity is much approu'd:
His good effects, doe make him still affected
Of God and good men, (with regard) respected.
He sent his man with me, o're Dale and Downe,
Who lodg'd, and boorded me at Peereth Towne,
And such good cheere, and bedding there I had,
That nothing, (but my weary selfe) was bad;
There a fresh man, (I know not for whose sake)
With me a iourney would to Carlile make:
But from that Citie, about two miles wide,
Good Sir Iohn Dalston lodg'd me and my guide.
Of all the Gentlemen in Englands bounds,
His house is neerest to the Scottish grounds,
And Fame proclaimes him, farre and neere, aloud,
He's free from being couetous, or proud:
His sonne Sir George, most affable, and kinde,
His fathers image, both in forme and minde,
On Saturday to Carlile both did ride,
Where (by their loues and leaues) I did abide,
Where of good entertainment I found store,
From one that was the Mayor the yeere before,
His name is Master Adam Robinson,
I the last English friendship with him won.
He (gratis) found a guide to bring me through,
From Carlile to the Citie Endenborough:
This was a helpe, that was a helpe alone,
Of all my helps inferiour vnto none.
Eight miles from Carlile runs a little Riuer,
Which Englands bounds, from Scotlands groūds doth seuer.
Without Horse, Bridge, or Boate, I o're did get
On foot, I went, yet scarce my shooes did wet.
I being come to this long-look'd-for land,
Did marke, remarke, note, renote, viewd and scand:
And I saw nothing that could change my will,
But that I thought my selfe in England still.
The Kingdomes are so neerely ioyn'd and fixt,
There scarcely went a paire of Sheares betwixt;
There I saw skie aboue, and earth below,
And as in England, there the Sunne did show:
The hills with Sheepe repleate, with corne the dale,
And many a cottage yeelded good Scott'sh Ale;
This County (Anandale) in former times,
Was the curst climate of rebellious crimes:
For Cumberland and it, both Kingdomes borders,
Were euer ordred, by their owne disorders,
Such sharking, shifting, cutting throats, & thieuing,
Each taking pleasure in th'others grieuing;
And many times he that had wealth to night,
Was by the morrow morning beggerd quite:

128

To many yeeres this pell-mell fury lasted,
That all these borders were quite spoyl'd & wasted,
Confusion, hurly-burly raign'd and reuel'd,
The Churches with the lowly ground were leueld;
All memorable monuments defac'd,
All places of defence o'rethrowne and rac'd.
That who so then did in the borders dwell,
Liu'd little happier then those in hell.
But since the all-disposing God of heauen.
Hath these two Kingdomes to one Monarch giuen,
Blest peace, and plenty on them both hath showr'd,
Exile, and hanging hath the theeues deuowr'd,
That now each subiect may securely sleepe,
His Sheep & Neate, the black the white doth keepe,
For now those Crownes are both in one combinde,
Those former borders, that each one confinde,
Appeares to me (as I doe vnderstand)
To be almost the Center of the Land,
This was a blessed heauen expounded riddle,
To thrust great Kingdomes skirts into the middle.
Long may the instrumentall cause suruiue,
From him and his, succession still deriue
True heires vnto his vertues, and his Throane,
That these two Kingdomes euer may be one.
This County of all Scotland is most poore,
By reason of the outrages before,
Yet mighty store of Corne I saw there growe,
And as good grasse as euer man did mowe:
And as that day I twenty miles did passe,
I saw eleuen hundred Neat at grasse,
By which may be coniectur'd at the least,
That there was sustenance for man and beast.
And in the Kingdome I haue truly scand,
There's many worser parts, are better mand.
For in the time that theeuing was in vre,
The Gentles fled to places more secure.
And left the poorer sorte, t'abide the paine,
Whilest they could ne'r finde time to turne againe.
That Shire of Gentlemen is scarce and dainty,
Yet there's reliefe in great aboundance plenty,
Twixt it and England, little oddes I see,
They eate, and liue, and strong and able bee,
So much in Verse, and now Ile change my stile,
And seriously I'le write in Prose a while.
 

My thankes to Sir Iohn and Sir George Dalstone, with Sir Henry Gurwin.

Ouer Esk I waded.

The afore named Knights had giuen money to my Guide, of which he left some part at euery Ale-house.


133

I that haue wasted, Mōths, weeks, dayes, & houres
In viewing Kingdomes, Countries, Townes, and tow'rs,
Without al measure, measuring many paces,
And with my pen describing many places,
With few additions of mine owne deuizing,
(Because I haue a smacke of Coriatizing)
Our Mandeuill, Primaleon, Don Quixot,
Great Amadis, or Huon, traueld not
As I haue done, or beene where I haue beene,
Or heard and seene, what I haue heard and seene;
Nor Britaines Odcombe (Zany braue Ulissis)
In all his ambling, saw the like as this is.
I was in (would I could describe it well)
A darke, light, pleasant, profitable hell,
And as by water I was wafted in,
I thought that I in Charons Boate had bin,
But being at the entrance landed thus,
Three men there (in stead of Cerberus)
Conuaid me in, in each one hand a light
To guide vs in that vault of endlesse night,
There young & old with glim'ring candles burning
Digge, delue, and labour, turning and returning,
Some in a hole with baskets and with baggs,
Resembling furies, or infernall haggs:
There one like Tantall feeding, and there one,
Like Sisiphus he rowles the restlesse stone.
Yet all I saw was pleasure mixt with profit,
Which prou'd it to be no tormenting Tophet:
For in this honest, worthy, harmelesse hell,
There ne'r did any damned Deuill dwell:
And th'Owner of it gaines by 't more true glory,
Then Rome doth by fantasticke Purgatory.
A long mile thus I past, down, downe, steepe, steepe,
In deepenesse far more deepe, then Neptunes deepe,
Whilst o're my head (in fourefold stories hie)
Was Earth, & Sea, & Ayre, and Sun, and Skie:
That had I dyed in that Cimerian roome,
Foure Elements had couered o're my tombe:
Thus farther then the bottome did I goe,
(And many Englishmen haue not done so;)
Where mounting Porposes, and mountaine Whales,
And Regiments of fish with finnes and Scales,
Twixt me and Heauen did freely glide and slide,
And where great ships may at an anchor ride:
Thus in by Sea, and out by land I past,
And tooke my leaue of good Sir George at last.

136

VVhy should I waste Inuention to endite,
Ouidian fictions, or Olympiam games?
My misty Muse enlightned with more light,
To a more noble pitch her ayme she frames.
I must relate to my great Master Iames,
The Calydonian annuall peacefull warre;
How noble mindes doe eternize their fames,
By martiall meeting in the Brea of Marr:
How thousand gallant Spirits came neere and farre,
With Swords & Targets, Arrowes, Bowes, & Guns,
That all the Troope to men of iudgement, are
The God of Warres great neuer conquered Sonnes.
The Sport is Manly, yet none bleed but Beasts,
And last the Victor on the vanquisht feasts.
If Sport like this can on the Mountaines be,
Where Phebus flames can neuer melt the Snow:
Then let who list delight in Vales below,
Skie-kissing Mountaines pleasure are for me:
What brauer obiect can mans eye-sight see,
Then Noble, Worshipfull, and worthy Wights,
As if they were prepard for sundry fights,
Yet all in sweet society agree?
Through heather, mosse, mōgst frogs, & bogs, & fogs,
'Mongst craggy cliffes, & thunder battered hills,
Harts, Hinds, Bucks, Roes are chas'd by Men & dogs,
Where two houres hunting fourscore fat Deere kills.
Low land, your Sports are low as is your Seate,
The High-land Games & Minds, are high and great.