No froste nor snow, no winde, I trowe,
Can hurt mee if I wolde,
I am so wrapt and throwly lapt
Of jóly good ale and olde.
Backe and syde go bare, &c.
And Tyb my wyfe that as her lyfe
Loueth well 'good ale to seeke,
Full ofte drynkes shee, tyll ye may see
The teares run downe her cheekes:
Then dooth she trowle to me the bowle,
Even as a mault worm shuld,
And sayth, Sweete hart, I took my part
Of this ioly good ale and olde.
Backe and syde go bare, &c.
Now let them drynke, tyll they nod and winke,
Even as good felowes shoulde doe,
They shall not mysse to have the blisse,
Good ale do h bringe men to:
And all poor soules that have scowred boules, Or have them lustely trolde,
God save the lyves of them and theyr wyves, Whether they be yonge or olde.
Backe and syde go bare, &c.
Yorke, Yorke for my monie,
Of all the Cities that ever I see
For mery pastime and companie,
Except the Citie of London."
From a black letter copy, “Imprinted at London, by
Richard Jones, dwelling neere Holborn-bridge, 1584.”
As I came through the north country,
The fashions of the world to see,
I sought for merry company,
To go to the city of London,
And when to the city of York I came,
I found good company in the same,
As well disposed to every game,
As if it had been at London.
York, York for my money,
Of all the cities that ever I see,
For merry pastime and company,
Except the city of London.
And in that city what saw I then,
Knights, squires, and gentlemen
A shooting went to matches ten,
As if it had been at London,
And they shot for twenty pounds a bow, -
Besides great cheer they did bestow,
I never saw a gallanter show,
Except I had been at London.
York, York for my money, &c.
These matches, you shall understand,
The Earl of Essex took in hand,
Against the good Earl of Cumberland,
As if they had been at London,
And agreed these matches all shall be
For pastime and good company,
At the city of York full merrily,
As if it had been at London.
York, York for my money, &c.
In York there dwells an alderman, which Delights in archering very much,
I never heard of any such
In all the city of London,
His name is Maltby, merry and wise,
At any pastime you can devise;
But in shooting all his pleasure lies,
The like was never in London.
York, &c.
This Maltby, for the city's sake,
To shoot, himself, did undertake,
At any good match the Earls would make,
As well as they do at London:
And he brought to the field with him
One Speck, an archer proper and trim,
And Smith, that shoot about the pin,
As if it had been at London.
York, York, &c.
Then came from Cumberland archers three,
Best bowmen in the north country,
I will tell you their names what they be,
Well known to the city of London:
Walmsley many a man doth know,
And Bolton how he draweth his bow,
And Ratcliffe's shooting long ago
Well known to the city of London.
York, &c.
And the noble Earl of Essex came
To the field himself to see the same,
Which shall be had for ever in fame,
As soon as I come to London :
For he shew'd himself so diligent there,
To make a mark and keep it fair,
It is worthy memory to declare
Through all the city of London.
York, &c.
And then was shooting out of cry;
The skantling at a handful nigh,
And yet the wind was very high,
As it is sometimes at London:
They clapt the clouts so on the rags,
There was such betting and such brags,
And gallopping up and down with nags,
As if it had been at London.
York, &c.
And never an archer gave regard,
To half a bow nor half a yard,
never see matches go more hard,
About the city of London:
For fairer play was never play'd,
Nor fairer lays were never laid,
And a week together they kept this trade,
As if it had been at London.
York, &c.
The mayor of York, with his company,
Were all in the fields, I warrant ye,
To see good rule kept orderly,
As if it had been at London:
Which was a dutifull sight to see,
The mayor and aldermen there to be,
For the setting forth in archery,
As well as they do at London.
York, &c.
And there was neither fault nor fray,
Nor any disorder any way,
But every man did pitch and pay,
As if it had been at London :
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