$ 105. To Althea from Prison.

“ And all is with one childe of yours, This excellent sonnet, which possessed a high degree My gowne of greene it is too strait ;

I feele sturre at my side : of fame among the old cavaliers, was written by 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 sayd, committed by the House of Commons, in April, 1642, for presenting a petition from the county of

“ Be mine, as you tell me; Kent, requesting them to restore the king to his Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both, rights, and to settle the government. See Wood's

Take them your owne to bee.
Athenæ, vol. ii. p. 228 ; where may be seen, at
large, the affecting story of this elegant writer ;“ If the childe be mine, fayre Ellen, he sayd,
who, after having been distinguished for every gal- Be mine, as you doe sweare;
lant and polite accomplishment, the pattern of his Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire both,
own sex, and the darling of the ladies, died in the
lowest wretchedness, obscurity, and want, in 1658.

And make that childe your heyre.".
Shee sayes,

“ I had rather have one kine,
When love, with unconfined wings,
Hovers within my gates,

Childe Waters, of thy mouth, [both,

Than I wolde have Cheshire and Lancashire
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at my grates;

That lye by north and southe.
When I lye tangled in her haire,

“And I had rather have one twinkling, And fetter'd with her eye,

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
When flowing cups run swiftly round

Farr into the north countree;
With no allaying Thames,
Our carelesse heads with roses crown'd,

The fayrest ladye that I can finde,
Our hearts with loyal flames;

Ellen, must goe with mee."
When thirsty griefe in wine we steepe,

“Thoughe I am not that ladye fayre,
When healths and drafts goe free,

Yet let me goe with thee :
Fishes that tipple in the deepe,

And ever, I pray you, Childe Watèrs,
Know no such libertie,

Your foot-page let me bee.”

" If you will my foot-page bee, Ellen,
When, linnet-like, confined I

As you doe tell to mee,
With shriller note shall sing

Then you must cut your gowne of greene
The mercye, sweetness, majestye,

An inch above your knee.
And glories, of my king ;
When I shall voyce aloud how good

“ Soe must you doe your yellowe lockes,

An inch above your ee;
He is, how great should be,

You must tell no man what is my name:
Th’enlarged windes that curle the flood
Know no such libertie.

My foot-page then you shall bee."

Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode,
Stone walls do not a prison make,

Ran barefoot by his syde;
Nor iron barres a cage ;

Yet was he never soe courteous a knighte,
Minds innocent and quiet take

To say, “ Ellen, will you ryde ?"
That for an hermitage :
If I have freedom in my love,

Shee, all the long daye Childe Waters rode,

Ran barefoote thorow the broome;
And in my soul am free,

Yet was he never soè courteous a knighte,
Angels alone, that soare above,

To say, “ Put on your shoone."
Enjoy such libertie.

" 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,
Child is frequently used by our old writers as a title.
It is repeatedly given to Prince Arthur in the Fae-

My body itt will brast.”
rie Queene ; and the son of a king is, in the same Hee sayth, “Seest thou yond water, Ellen,
poem, called “Child Tristram.”

And it ought to That flows from banke or brimme ?"
be observed that the word child, or chield, is still
used in North Britain to denominate a man, com-

“ I trust in God, 0, Childe Waters,
monly with some contemptuous character affixed to You never will see* me swimme !"
him, but sometimes to denote man in general.

But when shee came to the water syde,
CHILDE Waters in his stable stoode,

Shee sayled to the chinne;
And stroakt his milke-white steede : “ Nowe the Lorde of Heaven be my speedc,
To him a fayre yonge ladye came

For I must learne to swimme!"
As ever ware womang weede.

The salt waters bare up her clothes ;
Sayes, “Christ you save! good Childe Wa- Our Ladye bare up her chinne :
ters,"

Childe Waters was a woe man, good Lord,
Sayes. “Christ you save! and see,

To see fayre Ellen swimme!
My girdle of gold, that was too longe,
Is now too short for mee.

* Permit, suffer.

And when shee over the water was,

I

pray you nowe, good Childe Watèrs, Shee then came to his knee;

Let me lye at your feete :
Hee sayd, “ Come hither, thou fayre Ellen, For there is noe place about this house
Loe yonder what I see !

Where I may saye* a sleepe.”
“Seest thou not yonder hall, Ellen ? He gave her leave, and fayre Ellen
Of red gold shines the yate:

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 sayd, “ 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 sayd, “Rise up, thou Childe Waters, 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 then bespake Childe Waters sistèr,

Up then rose Childe Waters soone, These were the wordes sayd shee:

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,
His girdle stands soe hye:

Full still there hee did stand,
And ever, I pray you, Childe Waters, That he might heare his fayre Ellen,
Let him in my chamber lye.”

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 sayd, “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 IIÍ. and the Forester, &c. Of the latter

sort are King Alfred and the Shepherd; King Ede Hyre, 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 antigui For 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 suAnd lowe into the streete;

perior to all that have been since written in imitaThe fayrest ladye that she colde finde,

tion of it. 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

sin.”

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;
For the game, in the same, with good regard. And for your kindness here offered to mee,
All a long summers day rode the king pleasantly, Then to the miller his wife whispered secret-

I will requite you in everye degree."
With all his princes and nobles eche one;
Chasing the hart and hind, and the bucke gal-

lye,

[kin, lantlye,

(home.

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.

(some grace,

“ 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 su

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.”

brave,

[quoth shee

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,

is done,

(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 ;

“ Ifthou 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,

(night.”

."" 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 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;

(lye.”

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 :

come.'

.

are."

[sire;

take;

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, 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.”

place.”

(jest : “ Doubt not," then sayd the king, "my prom

“I wis," quoth the miller, “ this is an odd ised secresye :

(me.”

» What should we doe there ? faith, I am halfe The king shall never know more on't for

afraid."

(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'al 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 mastershipp in 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

gowne, determined,

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,

[parts.

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.

coming,

(traine ; His message orderlye then gan he tell. | Meeting this gallant knight with his brave

his cap,

tn cd ។

(token,

[deer;

And now,

“Welcome, sir knighte," quoth he," with your Here with the ladyės 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

them,

[wed: me ?"

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 wot."

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 three hundred pound tilye,

[hand;

yearlye ; While the king taketh them both by the 6. 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,

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 truc, 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 all Quoth sir John Cockle, “ I'll pledge you a writers, ancient and modern, and so blended and pottle,

kneaded together the several superstitions of difWere it the best ale in Nottinghamshire."

ferent times and nations, that those of genuine

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 ;
“: In faith, I take it now very unkind :

And, soone as she turn'd her back to the south;

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 i 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,

And, 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.

say it,

Y