§ 105. To Althea from Prison. This excellent sonnet, which possessed a high degree of fame among the old cavaliers, was written by Colonel Richard Lovelace, during his confinement in the Gate-house, Westminster; to which he was committed by the House of Commons, in April, 1642, for presenting a petition from the county of Kent, requesting them to restore the king to his rights, and to settle the government. See Wood's Athenæ, vol. ii. p. 228 ; where may be seen, at large, the affecting story of this elegant writer; who, after having been distinguished for every gallant and polite accomplishment, the pattern of his own sex, and the darling of the ladies, died in the lowest wretchedness, obscurity, and want, in 1658. WHEN love, with unconfined wings, Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at my grates; When I lye tangled in her haire, And fetter'd with her eye, The birds that wanton in the aire Know no such libertie! When flowing cups run swiftly round When, linnet-like, confined I With shriller note shall sing When I shall voyce aloud how good Th' enlarged windes that curle the flood Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron barres a cage; $106. Childe Waters. Child is frequently used by our old writers as a title. It is repeatedly given to Prince Arthur in the Faerie Queene; and the son of a king is, in the same poem, called "Child Tristram." And it ought to be observed that the word child, or chield, is still used in North Britain to denominate a man, commonly with some contemptuous character affixed to him, but sometimes to denote man in general. CHILDE Waters in his stable stoode, And stroakt his milke-white steede : To him a fayre yonge ladye came As ever ware womans weede. Sayes, "Christ you save! good Childe Watèrs," Sayes, "Christ you save! and see, My girdle of gold, that was too longe, Is now too short for mee. Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire Thoughe I am not that ladye fayre, And ever, I pray you, Childe Waters, "If you will my foot-page bee, Ellèn, Then you must cut your gowne of greene "Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes, An inch above your ee; You must tell no man what is my name: Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode, Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte, To say, "Ellen, will you ryde ?" Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode, Yet was he never soè courteous a knighte, The childe, which is no man's but thine, Hee sayth, "Seest thou yond water, Ellen, You never will see* me swimme!" Shee sayled to the chinne; "Nowe the Lorde of Heaven be my speede, For I must learne to swimme!" The salt waters bare up her clothes; Our Ladye bare up her chinne: * Permit, suffer. And when shee over the water was, Shee then came to his knee; Hee sayd, "Come hither, thou fayre Ellèn, "Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen? "Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen? Of red gold shines the towre: And of your worthy mate. "I see the hall now, Childe Waters, There twenty-four fayre ladyes were "But that his bellye it is soe bigge, That has run through mosse and myre, That wears so rich attyre. "It is more meete for a little foot-page, That has run through mosse and myre, To take his supper upon his knee, And lye by the kitchen fyre." Now when they had supped every one, To bed they tooke theyre waye: He sayd, "Come hither, my little foot-page, And hearken what I saye : "Goe thee downe unto yonder towne, The fayrest ladye that thou canst finde * Defiling. "I pray you nowe, good Childe Waters, He gave her leave, and fayre Ellèn And gave his steede corne and haye; She leaned her back to the manger side, And grievouslye did groane: Shee leaned her back to the manger side, And that beheard his mother deare, She sayd, "Rise up, thou Childe Waters, "For in thy stable is a ghost, That grievouslye doth groane: Up then rose Childe Waters soone, I wolde thy father were a kinge, And the bridale and the churchinge bothe 107. The King and the Miller of Mansfield. It has been a favorite subject with our English ballad-makers,to represent our kings conversing, either by accident or design, with the meanest of their subjects. Of the former kind, besides this song of the King and the Miller, we have King Henry and the Soldier; King James I. and the Tinker; King William III. and the Forester, &c. Of the latter sort are King Alfred and the Shepherd; King Edward IV. and the Tanner; King Henry VIII. and the Cobbler, &c. This is a piece of great antiquity, being written before the time of Edward IV and for its genuine humor, diverting incidents, and faithful picture of rustic manners, is infinitely 30perior to all that have been since written in imitation of it. Part the First. HENRY, our royall king, would ride a hunting To the greene forest so pleasant and faire, * Essay, attempt. † Moaning, bemoaning To see the harts skipping, and dainty does Then our king presentlye, making lowe courtripping: Unto merry Sherwood his nobles repaire ; tesye 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 For the game, in the same, with good regard. But a poor courtyer rode out of my way; And for your kindness here offered to mee, Then to the miller his wife whispered secretI will requite you in everye degree." lye, [kin, Saying, "It seemeth this youth's of good Both by his apparel, and eke by his manners; To turne him out, certainlye, were a great sin." [some grace, "Yea," quoth hee, "you may see, he hath When he doth speake to his betters in place." "Well," quo' the miller's wife," young man, ye're welcome here; Fresh straw will I have laid on thy bed sc And, though I say it, well lodged shall be: brave, With a rude miller he mett at the last : Asking the ready way unto faire Nottingham: "Sir," quoth the miller, "I mean not to jest, Yet I think, what I thinke sooth for to say, You doe not lightlye ride out of your way." "Why, what dost thou think of me," quoth" our king merrily, "Passing thy judgment on me so briefe ?" "Good faith," said the miller, "I mean not to flatter thee; I guess thee to be but some gentleman thiefe; Stand thee backe, in the darke; light not adowne, Lest I presently cracke thy knaves crowne." "Thou dost abuse me much," quoth the king, "saying thus ; I am a gentleman; lodging I lacke." "Thou hast not," quoth the miller," one groat in thy purse; All thy inheritance hanges on thy backe." "I have gold to discharge all that I call; If it be forty pence, I will pay all.” [quoth shee And good brown hempen sheets likewise," Aye," quoth the good man," and when that [sonne." Thou shalt lye with no worse than our own Nay, first," quoth Richard," goode-fellowe, is done, tell me true, Or art thou not troubled with the scabbado?" "I pray," quoth the king, "what creatures are those ?" "Art thou not lowsy, nor scabby ?" quoth he: Till the tears trickled fast downe from his With hot bag-puddings, and good apple-pyes, Nappy ale, good and stale, in a brown bowle, Which did about the board merrily trowle. "Here," quoth the miller, "good fellow, I drink to thee, "If thou beest a true man, then," quoth the miller, [night." 'I sweare by my toll-dish I'll lodge thee all "Here's my hand," quoth the king, "that was I ever." [be a sprite." "Nay, soft," quoth the miller, "thou mayst 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 house; And to all cuckolds, wherever they bee." sonne." [souse: "Do then," quoth Richard," and quicke let it Never came hee in soe smoakye a house. Now," quoth he, "let me see here what you are." [spare." Yet its best, husband, to deal warilye. A come. Wife," quoth the miller, "fetch me forth Lightfoote, And of his sweetnesse a little we'll taste." faire ven'son pastye brought she out presentlye. [no waste : 'Eate," quoth the miller, "but, sir, make Here's dainty Lightfoote!" "In faith," said the king, "I never before eate so dainty a thing." "We never pay pennye for itt, by my fay : From merry Sherwood we fetch it home here ; "Then I thinke," sayd our king, "that it is "Doubt not," then sayd the king, "my prom ised secresye : [me." The king shall never know more on't for A cup of lambs-wool they dranke unto him then, And to their beds they past presentlie. The nobles, next morning, went all up and downe, For to seeke out the king in every towne. At last, at the millers cott, soone they espy'd him out, As he was mounting upon his faire steede ; To whom they came presently, falling down on their knee; Which made the millers heart wofully Shaking and quaking, before him he stood, Thinking he should have been hang'd by the rood. ,3 Therefore, in any case, faile not to be in afraid." Our king he provides a great feast for your Then sayd the miller, "By my troth, messenger, Thou hast contented my worshippe full well. Hold, here are three farthings, to quite thy gentleness [tell. The king, perceiving him fearfully trembling, 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. Part the Second. all we have ; 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, With bridles and saddles, and twenty things more." Nottingham, And with his nobles at Westminster lay; Recounting the sports and pastimes they had In this late progress along on the way; [taken Of them all, great and small, he did protest, The miller of Mansfield's sport liked him best. "And now, my lords," quoth the king, "I am determined, "Tushe! sir John," quoth his wife, why should you frett or frown? You shall ne'er be att no charges for mee; For I will turn and trim up my old russet gowne, With every thing else as fine as may bee: And on our mill-horses swift we will ride, With pillowes and pannells as we shall pro vide." Against St. George's next sumptuous feast, That this old miller, our new-confirmed knight, With his son Richard, shall here be my 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 squire." court, 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, 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, [parts. The which had oftentimes been in those When he came to the place where they did dwell. His message orderlye then gan he tell. His wife like maid Marian did mince at that The king and his nobles, that heard of their "Welcome, sir knighte," quoth he, "with your gay lady; Good sir John Cockle, once welcome againe; And soe is the squire, of courage so free." Quoth Dicke, "A bots on you! do you know me ?" Here with the ladyes such sport they did make, The nobles with laughing did make their sides ake. Many thanks for their pains did the king give them, [wed: Quoth our king gentlye, "How should I forget" thee? wot." That wast my own bed-fellowe, well it I [token, "Yea, sir," quoth Richard, "and by the same Thou with thy farting didst make the bed hot." [the knight, "Thou whoreson unhappy knave," then quoth "Speak cleanly to our king, or else go sh*t*." The king and his courtiers laugh at this heartilye, [hand; While the king taketh them both by the With the court dames' and maids, like to the queen of spades, The miller's wife did so orderly stand, A milkmaids courtesye at every word; And downe all the folkes were set to the board. There the king royally, in princelye majestye, Sate at his dinner with joy and delight; When they had eaten well, then he to jesting fell, And in a bowle of wine dranke to the knight: "Here's to you both, in wine, ale and beer; Thanking you heartilye for my good cheer." Quoth sir John Cockle, "I'll pledge you a pottle, Were it the best ale in Nottinghamshire." "But then," said our king, "now I think of a thing, [here." Some of your Lightfoot I would we had "Ho! ho!" quoth Richard, "full well I may say it, Asking young Richard then if he would Among these ladyes free, tell me which liketh thee?" Quoth he, "Jugg Grumball, sir, with the red head: She's my love, she's my life, her will I wed; She hath sworn I shall have her maidenhead." Then sir John Cockle the king called unto him, And of merry Sherwood made him o'erseer; And gave him out of hand three hundred pound yearlye; [deer; "Take heed now you steal no more of my And once a quarter let's here have your view; And now, sir John Cockle, I bid you adieu." 108. The Witches' Song. From Ben Jonson's Masque of Queens, presented at Whitehall, Feb. 2, 1609. It is true, this song of the Witches, falling from the learned pen of Ben Jonson, is rather an extract from the various incantations of classic antiquity, than a display of the opinions of our own vulgar. But let it be observed, that a parcel of learned wiseacres had just before busied themselves on this subject, with our British Solomon, James I., at their head; and these had so ransacked all writers, ancient and modern, and so blended and kneaded together the several superstitions of different times and nations, that those of genuine English growth could no longer be traced out and distinguished. By good luck the whimsical belief of fairies and goblins could furnish no pretences for torturing our fellow-creatures, and therefore we have this handed down to us pure and unsophisticated. 1 Witch. "Tis knavery to eate it, and then to betray it." "In faith, I take it now very unkind : I thought thou wouldst pledge me in ale and wine heartilye." Quoth Dicke, "You are like to stay till have din'd: 'Aye, marry," quoth our king, "that were a daintye thing, Could a man get but one here for to eat." With that Dick straight arose, and pluck'd one from his hose, Which with heat of his breech gan for to sweate. I HAVE beene all day looking after And, soone as she turn'd her back to the south; II have beene gathering wolves haires, I last night lay all alone O' the ground, to heare the mandrake grone And I h' beene chusing out this scull, The king made a proffer to snatch it away.- must stay." Thus in great merriment was the time wholly spent ; And then the ladyes prepared to dance: Old sir John Cockle and Richard incontinent Unto their places the king did advance; VOL. VI. Nos. 95 & 96. And frighted a sexton out of his wits. By day, and, when the childe was a-sleepe Y + |