4.
Part Fourth.
The waggonere maketh ane shrewd observation.
“Oh! Freedom is a glorious thing!—
And tailore, by the bye,
I'd rather in a halter swing,
Than in a dungeon lie.
The waggonere tickleth the spleen of the jailor, who daunces ane Fadango.
“The jailore came to bring me foode,
Forget it will I never,
How he turned up the white o' his eye,
When I stuck him in the liver.
Rejoicethe in the fragrance of the aire.
“His threade of life was snapt; once more
I reached the open streete;
The people sung out ‘Gardyloo’
As I ran down the streete.
Methought the blessed air of heaven
Never smelte so sweete.
Dreadeth Shoan Dhu, the corporal of the guarde.
“Once more upon the broad highwaye,
I walked with feare and drede;
And every fifteen steppes I tooke
I turned about my heade,
For feare the corporal of the guarde
Might close behind me trede!
“Behold upon the western wave,
Setteth the broad bright sunne;
So I must onward, as I have
Full fifteen miles to runne;—
“And should the bailliffes hither come
The waggonere taketh leave of the tailore,
To aske whilke waye I've gone,
Tell them I took the othere road,
Said hee, and trotted onne.”
The tailore rushed into the roome,
O'erturning three or foure;
To whome ane small accidente happeneth. Whereupon followeth the morale very proper to be had in minde by all members of the Dilettanti Society when they come over the bridge at these houres. Wherefore let them take heed and not lay blame where it lyeth nott.
Fractured his skulle against the walle,
And worde spake never more!!
