rest of these court-like pleasures; but late at night, when he was tippled, and again faste asleepe, they put on his old clothes, and conveyed him to the place where they first found him. The jest was infinite for fun and frolic, for the man did and said many things to the grievous discomfiture of the duke at Court, yet gave great sporte to the courtiers; and it was great to behold him when he came to himself. In conclusion, after some little admiration, the poor man told his friends he had seen a vision-constantly believed it—would not be otherwise persuaded; and so the jest ended.” This Ballad is given from a "black letter" copy in the Pepy's collection, with such emendations and corrections as our more fastidious age renders necessary. The Frolicksome Duke; or the Tinker's Good Fortune. Now, as fame does report, a young duke keep a court, But amongst all the rest, here's one I protest, Which will make you to smile, when you hear the true jest A As secure in a sleep as if laid in a swound. The duke said to William, and Richard, and Ben, "Take him home to my palace, we'll sport with him then." To the palace, although he was poorly arrayed; Then they strip't off his clothes, both his shirt, shoes, and hose, Having pulled off his shirt, which was all over dirt, On a bed of soft down, like a lord of renown, They did lay him to sleep the drink out of his crown. For to see the rich chamber both gaudy and gay Now, he lay something late in his rich bed of state, Tho' he seem'd something mute, yet he chose a rich suit, From a convenient place, the duke his good grace To a garden of state on the tinker they wait, Trumpets sounding before him-thought he "this is great!" Where, an hour or two, the walks he did view, With commanders and squires, in scarlet and blue. A fine dinner was spread for him and his guests; As he sat at his meat the musicke play'd sweet, While the tinker did dine he had plenty of wine, Like a right honest soul, faith, he took off his bowl, From his chair to the floor, where he sleeping did snore, Then the duke did ordain they should strip him amain, T'was a point next the worst, yet perform it they must, For his glory to him so pleasant did seem, That he thought it to be but a mere golden dream ; Till at length he was brought to the duke, where he sought Then his highness bespoke him a new suit and cloak, The tinker reply'd, “What must Joan, my sweet bride, Must we have gold and land everye day to command? Well I thank your good grace, and your love I embrace, |