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0 105. To Althea from Prison.
“ And all is with one childe of yours, This excellent sonnet, which possessed a high degree My gowne of
I feele sturre at my side : of fame among the old cavaliers, was written by
greene it is too strait; Colonel Richard Lovelace, during his confinement Before, it was too wide.” in the Gate-house, Westminster ; to which he was “ If the childe be mine, fayre Ellen," he says, committed by the House of Commons, in April, 1642, for presenting a petition from the county of
“Be mine, as you tell me;
Take them your owne to bee.
“ If the childe be mine, fayre Ellen, he sayd,
And make that childe your heyre.”
Shee sayes, “I had rather have one kine,
Childe Waters, of thy mouth, [both,
Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire
That lye by north and southe.
“ And I had rather have one twinkling,
Childe Waters, of thine ee;
[both, The birds that wanton in the aire
Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire Know no such libertie !
To take them mine owne to bee."
“To-morrow, Ellen, I must forth ryde
Farr into the north countree;
The fayrest ladye that I can finde,
Ellen, must goe with mee.”
Thoughe I am not that ladye fayre,
Yet let me goe with thee :
And ever, I pray you, Childe Waters,
Your foot-page let me bee."
" If you will my foot-page bee, Ellen,
As you doe tell to mee,
Then you must cut your gowne of greene
An inch above your knee.
“ Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes,
An inch above your ee;
You must tell no man what is my name:
My foot-page then you shall bee."
Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode,
Ran barefoot by his syde;
Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte,
To say, “ Ellen, will you ryde ?"
Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode,
Ran barefoote thorow the broome;
Yet was he never soè courteous a knighte,
To say, “ Put on your shoone."
“ Ride softlye,” shee sayd, “O, Childe Watèrs, $ 106. Childe Waters.
Why doe you ride so fast ?
The childe, which is no man's but thine,
My body itt will brast.”
“ I trust in God, 0, Childe Waters,
But when shee came to the water syde,
Shee sayled to the chinne;
For I must learne to swimme!"
The salt waters bare up her clothes ;
Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,
To see fayre Ellen swimme!
* Permit, suffer.
And when shee over the water was,
I pray you nowe, good Childe Waters, Shee then came to his knee;
Let me lye at your feete :
Where I may saye* a sleepe.”
Downe at his beds feete laye : Of twenty-four fayre ladyes there,
This done, the night drove on apace; The fayrest is my mate.
And, when it was near the daye, “Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen ? Hee says, “Rise up, my little foot-page! Of red gold shines the towre :
Give my steede corne and haye; There are twenty-four fayre ladyes there, And give him nowe the good black oates, The fayrest is my paramoure.”
To carry mee better awaye.” “I see the hall now, Childe Waters, Up then rose the fayre Ellen, Of red gold shines the yate :
And gave his steede corne and haye; God give you good now of yourselfe, And soe shee did the good black oates, And of your worthy mate.
To carry him better awaye. “I see the hall now, Childe Waters, She leaned her back to the manger side, Of red gold shines the towre:
And grievouslye did groane : God give you good now of yourselfe,
Shee leaned her back to the manger side, And of your paramoure.”
And there she made her moane. There twenty-four fayre ladyes were
And that beheard his mother deare, A playinge at the ball ;
She heard her woeful woe, And Ellen, the fayrest ladye there,
She says, “Rise up, thou Childe Watèrs, Must bring his steed to the stall.
And into thy stable goe; There twenty-four fayre ladyes were
“ For in thy stable is a ghost, A playinge at the chesse ;
That grievouslye doth groane : And Ellen, the fayrest ladye there,
Or else some woman laboures with childe, Must bring his horse to gresse.
She is so woe-begone."
And did on his shirte of silke; “You have the prettyest page, brother,
And then he put on his other clothes, That ever I did see;
On his bodye as white as milke. “ But that his bellye it is soe bigge,
And when he came to the stable dore,
Full still there hee did stand,
Howe shee made her monànd. “ It is not fit for a little foot-page,
Shee sayd, Lullabye, mine owne deare childe. That has run through mosse and myre,
Lullabye, deare childe, dear: To lye in the chamber of any ladye
I wolde thy father were a kinge, That wears so rich attyre.
Thy mother layd on a biere !" “ It is more meete for a little foot-page,
“Peace, nowe,” hee said, “good faire Ellen, That has run through mosse and myre,
Bee of good cheere, I praye! To take his supper upon his knee,
And the bridale and the churchinge bothe And lye by the kitchen fyre.”
Shall be upon one daye.” Now when they had supped every one, § 107. The King and the Miller of Mansfield. To bed they tooke theyre waye:
It has been a favorite subject with our English balHe says, “ Come hither, my little foot-page, lad-makers, to represent our kings conversing, either And hearken what I saye :
by accident or design, with the meanest of their
subjects. Of the former kind, besides this song of “Goe thee downe unto yonder towne,
the King and the Miller, we have King Henry and And lowe into the streete;
the Soldier ; King James I. and the Tinker ; King The fayrest ladye that thou canst finde
William III. and the Forester, &c. Of the latter
sort are King Alfred and the Shepherd; King EdHyre, in mine armes to sleepe;
ward IV. and the Tanner; King Henry VIII, and And take her up in thine armes twayne, the Cobbler, &c. This is a piece of great antiquiFor filing* of her feete.”
ty, being written before the time of Edward IV
and for its genuine humor, diverting incidents, and Ellen is gone into the towne,
faithful picture of rustic manners, is infinitely su And lowe into the streete;
perior to all that have been since written in imita
tion of it. The fayrest ladye that she colde finde, She hyred in his armes to sleepe;
Part the First. And took her up in her armes twayne, HENRY, our royall king, would ride a hunting For filing of her feete.
To the greene forest so pleasant and faire, * Defiling.
* Essay, attempt. | Moaning, bemoaning
To see the harts skipping, and dainty does| Then our king presentlye, making lowe courtripping :
tesye Unto merry Sherwood his nobles repaire ; With his hatt in his hand, thus he did say: Hawke and hound were unbound, all things I have no passport, nor never was servitor, prepar'd
But a poor courtyer rode out of my way;
I will requite you in everye degree.”
Saying, “ It seemeth this youth 's of good Till the darke evening forced all to turne Both by his apparel, and eke by his manners ; Then, at last, riding fast, he had lost quite
To turne him out, certainlye, were a great All his lords in the wood, late in the night.
“ Yea," quoth hee, "you may see, he hath Wandering thus wearilye, all alone, up and when he doth speake to his betters in place."
downe, With a rude miller he mett at the last :
“ Well," quo' the miller's wife, “young man, Asking the ready way unto faire Nottingham:
ye're welcome here; Sir," quoth the miller, “I mean not to jest, Fresh 'straw will I have laid on thy bed sc
And, though I say it, well lodged shall be : Yet I think, what I thinke sooth for to say, You doe not lightlye ride out of your way.”
And good brown hempen sheets likewise,' “Why, what dost thou think of me," quoth Aye,” quoth the good man, “and when that our king merrily,
[sonne." Passing thy judgment on me so briefe ?" Thou shalt lye with no worse than our own “Good faith," said the miller, “I mean not to “ Nay, first,” quoth Richard, “goode-fellowe, flatter thee;
tell me true, I guess thee to be but some gentleman thiefe; Stand thee backe, in the darke; light not or art thou not troubled with the scabbado ?”
Hast thou noe creepers within thy gay hose ? adowne,
“I pray," quoth the king," what creatures Lest I presently cracke thy knaves crowne.”
are those ?” “ Thou dost abuse me much," quoth the king, “ Art thou not lowsy, nor scabby ?" quoth he: “saying thus;
“ If thou beest, surely thou lyest not with mee.” I am a gentleman; lodging I lacke."
This caus'd the king suddenlye to laugh most “ Thou hast not,' quoth the miller,“ one groat heartilye,
[eyes. in thy purse ;
Till the tears trickled fast downe from his All thy inheritance hanges on thy backe.” Then to their supper were they set orderlye, “ I have gold to discharge all that I call; With hot bag-puddings, and good apple-pyes, If it be forty pence, I will pay all."
Nappy ale, good and stale, in a brown bowle, “ If thou beest a true man, then," quoth the Which did about the board merrily trowle. miller,
." “ Here," quoth the miller, “good fellow, I “ I sweare by my toll-dish I'll lodge thee all drink to thee, Here's my hand,” quoth the king, “ that was And to all cuckolds, wherever they bee." I ever."
[be a sprite.“ I pledge thee," quoth our king, “and thanke “ Nay, soft,” quoth the miller, " thou mayst thee heartilye Better I'll know thee, ere hands we will shake; For my good welcome in every degree : With none but honest men hands will I take." And here, in like manner, I drink to thy Thus they went all along unto the miller's
sonne." house ;
(souse : “ Do then," quoth Richard, “and quicke let it Where they were seething of puddings and
come. The miller first entered in, after him went the “ Wife," quoth the miller, " fetch me forth king,
Lightfoote, Never came hee in soe smoakye a house. And of his sweetnesse a little we'll taste." Now," quoth he,“ let me see here what you A faire ven’son pastye brought she out pres(spare." entlye.
[no waste : Quoth our king, “ Look your fill, and do not “Eate," quoth the miller, “but, sir, make “I like well thy countenance, thou hast an Here's dainty Lightfoote!” “In faith," said the honest face;
king, With my son Richard this night thou shalt |“ I never before eate so dainty a thing." Quoth his wife,“ By my troth, it is a handsome “ I wis," quoth Richard," no dainty at all it is, youth,
For we do eate of it everye day.” Yet its best, husband, to deal warilye. “ In what place,” sayd our king, "may be Art thou no runaway, prythee, youth, tell ? bought like to this ?" Shew me thy passport, and all shall be well.” “We never pay pennye for itt, by my fay:
From merry Sherwood we fetch it home here;, God save your worshippe," then said the Now and then we make bold with our king's messenger,
(sire ; deer."
“ And grant your ladye her own hearts de“Then I thinke," sayd our king, “ that it is And to your sonne Richard good fortune and venison."
(may know that : happiness; “Eche foole," quoth Richard, “ full well
That sweet, gentle, and gallant young squire! Never are we without two or three in the roof, Our king greets you well, and thus he doth say, Very well fleshed, and excellent fat :
You must come to the court on St. Georges But, prythee, say nothing wherever thou goe;
day. We would not for two pence the king should Therefore, in any case, faile not to be in it knowe."
[jest : " Doubt not," then sayd the king, “my prom
“I wis," quoth the miller, “ this is an odd ised secresye :
"What should we doe there ? faith, I am halfe The king shall never know more on't for
(the least." A cup of lambs-wool they dranke unto him
“I doubt," quoth Richard, “to be hang'd at then,
Nay," quoth the messenger, "you doe misAnd to their beds they past presentlie.
[sake.” The nobles, next morning, went all up and Our king he provides a great feast for your downe,
Then sayd the miller, “ By my troth, messenFor to seeke out the king in every towne.
ger, At last, at the millers cott, soone they espy'd
Thou hast contented my worshippe full well. him out,
Hold, here are three farthings, to quite thy As he was mounting upon his faire steede ; gentleness
[tell. To whom they came presently, falling down For these happy tydings which thou dost on their knee;
[bleede : Let me see, heare thou mee; tell to our king, Which made the millers heart wofully We'll wait on his mastershippin everye thing." Shaking and quaking, before him he stood,
The pursuivante smiled at their simplicitye, Thinking he should have been hang'd by the
And,making many leggs,tooke their reward; rood.
And his leave taking with great humilitye, The king, perceiving him fearfully trembling, To the king's court againe he repair'd;
Drew forthe his sword, but nothing he sed. Shewing unto his grace, merry and free, The miller downe did fall, crying before them The knightes most liberall gift and bountie. all,
[head : Doubting the king would have cut off his
When he was gone away, thus gan the miller But he, his kind courtesy for to requite,
say: Gave him great living, and dubb'd him a Now must we needs be brave, tho' we spend
“Here come expences and charges indeed ! knight.
all we have ; Part the Second.
For of new garments we have great need : WHENAS our royall king was come home from Of horses and serving-men we must have store, Nottingham,
With bridles and saddles, and twenty things And with his nobles at Westminster lay;
more.” Recounting the sports and pastimes they had “ Tushe! sir John," quoth his wife, “why
In this late progress along on the way; (taken should you frett or frown ? Of thein all, great and small, he did protest, You shall ne'er be att no charges for mee; The miller of Mansfield's sport liked him best. For I will turn and trim up my old russet “And now, my lords,” quoth the king, “I am
With every thing else as fine as may bee : Against St. George's next sumptuous feast, And on our mill-horses swift we will ride, That this old miller, our new-confirmed knight, With pillowes and pannells as we shall proWith his son Richard, shall here be my
vide." For, in this merriment, 'tis my desire (guest : In this most stately sort rode they unto the To talke with the jolly knight, and the young court, squire."
Their jolly son Richard rode foremost of all; Whenas the noble lords sawe the kinges plea-Who set up, for good hap, a cocks feather in santness,
[hearts : They were right joyfull and glad in their
And so they jetted downe to the king's hall; A pursuivante there was sent straight on the The merry old miller with hands on his side ; business,
His wife like maid Marian did mince at that The which had oftentimes been in those
tide. When he came to the place where they did The king and his nobles, that heard of their dwell.
(traine ; His message orderlye then gan he tell. Meeting this gallant knight with his brave
Welcome, sir knighte," quoth he," with your Here with the ladyes such sport they did make, gay lady;
The nobles with laughing did make their sides Good sir John Cockle, once welcome againe; ake. And soe is the squire, of courage so free.”
Many thanks for their pains did the king give Quoth Dicke, “ A bots on you! do you know
Asking young Richard then if he would Quoth our king gentlye, “How should I forget “ Among these ladyes free, tell me which thee ?
liketh thee ?" That wast my own bed-fellowe, well it I Quoth he, “ Jugg Grumball, sir, with the
(token, red head : "Yea, sir," quoth Richard, “and by the same She's my love, she's my life, her will I wed; Thou with thy farting didst make the bed She hath sworn I shall have her maidenhead." hot."
[the knight, "Thou whoreson unhappy knave," then quoth Then sir John Cockle the king called unto
him, “ Speak cleanly to our king, or else go sh*t*."
And of merry Sherwood made him o'erseer; The king and his courtiers laugh at this hear. And gave him out of hand threc hundred pound tilye, [hand; yearlye ;
[deer; While the king taketh them both by the “ Take heed now you steal no more of my With the court dames' and maids, like to the And once a quarter let's here have your view; queen of spades,
And now, sir John Cockle, I bid you adieu." The miller's wife did so orderly stand, A milkmaids courtesye at every word ;
$ 108. The Witches' Song: And downe all the folkes were set to the board.
From Ben Jonson's Masque of Queens, presented at There the king royally, in princelye majestye,
Whitehall, Feb. 2, 1609. Sate at his dinner with joy and delight; It is true, this song of the Witches, falling from the When they had eaten well, then he to jesting learned pen of Ben Jonson, is rather an extract
from the various incantations of classic antiquity, fell,
than a display of the opinions of our own vulgar. And in a bowle of wine dranke to the knight:
But let it be observed, that a parcel of learned “ Here's to you both, in wine, ale and beer; wiseacres had just before busied themselves on Thanking you heartilye for my good cheer.” this subject, with our British Solomon, James I.,
at their head ; and these had so ransacked ali Quoth sir John Cockle, “ I'll pledge you a writers, ancient and modern, and so blended and pottle,
knended together the several superstitions of dif
ferent times and nations, that those of genuine Were it the best ale in Nottinghamshire."
English growth could no longer be traced out and “But then,” said our king, “now I think of a distinguished. thing,
[here." By good luck the whimsical belief of fairies and Some of your Lightfoot I would we had
goblins could furnish no pretences for torturing
our fellow-creatures, and therefore we have this “Ho ! ho !" quoth Richard, "full well I may
handed down to us pure and unsophisticated.
1 Witch. 'Tis knavery to eate it, and then to betray it." Why art thou angry ?" quoth our king mer. A raven feeding upon a quarter;
I HAVE beene all day looking after rilye ;
And, soone as she turn'd her back to the south ; “: In faith, I take it now very unkind :
I snatch'd this morsell out of her mouth. I thought thou wouldst pledge me in ale and wine heartilye."
2 Witch. Quoth Dicke, “You are like to stay till 1 I have beene gathering wolves haires, have din'd:
The mad dogges foame, and adders eares ; You feed us with twatling dishes so small;
The spurging of a dead man's eyes : Zounds, a black pudding is better than all." And all since the evening starre did rise.
3 Witch. Aye, marry," quoth our king, “that were a daintye thing,
I last night lay all alone Could a man get but one here for to eat."
O'the ground, to heare the mandrake grone With that Dick straight arose, and pluck'd one And pluck'd him up, though he grew full low from his hose,
Aud, as I had done, the cocke did crow. Which with heat of his breech gan for to
4 Witch. sweate,
And I h’ beene chusing out this scull, The king made a proffer to snatch it away.- From charnel houses that were full, “ 'Tis meat for your master, good sir ; you From private grots and publike pits : must stay."
And frighted a sexton out of his wits. Thus in great merriment was the time wholly
5 Witch. spent ;
Under a cradle I did creepe And then the ladyes prepared to dance : By day, and, when the childe was a-sleepe Old sir John Cockle and Richard incontinent At night, I suck'd the breath; and rose,
Unto their places the king did adyance; And pluck'd the nodding nurse by the nose. VOL. VI. Nos. 95 & 96.