"Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have, "Now, welcome, Sire Abbot," the King he did say; "'Tis well thou'rt come back to keepe thy day; For and if thou canst answer my questions three, Thy life and thy living both saved shall bee. "And first, when thou seest me here in this stead, With my crowne of golde so fair on my head, Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe, Tell me to one penny what I am worthe." 66 For thirty pence our Saviour was sold Among the false Jewes, as I have bin told: And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, For I thinke thou art one penny worser than hee." The King he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel, "I did not think I had been worth so littel! Now, secondly, tell me, without any doubt, How soone I may ride this whole world about." "You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same, Until the next morning he riseth againe; And then your Grace need not make any doubt But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about." The King he laughed, and swore by St. Jone, "Yea, that shall I do, and make your Grace merrye: The King he laughed, and swore by the masse, 66 I'll make thee Lord Abbot this day in his place!" "Now, naye, my liege, be not in such speede, For alacke I can neither write, ne reade." "Four nobles a week, then, I will give thee, Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John." -"Reliques of Ancient English Poetry." The Distracted Puritan 'Aм I mad, oh, noble Festus, When zeal and godly knowledge Have put me in hope To deal with the Pope, As well as the best in the college? Boldly I preach, hate a cross, hate a surplice, Come, hear me pray nine times a day, In the house of pure Emanuel I had my education, Where my friends surmise I dazel'd my eyes With the sight of revelation. They bound me like a bedlam, They lash'd my four poor quarters; Faith makes me sure To be one of Foxe's martyrs. These injuries I suffer Through antichrist's perswasion: Take off this chain, Neither Rome nor Spain Can resist my strong invasion. Of the beast's ten horns (God bless us!) I have knock'd off three already; If they let me alone I'll leave him none: But they say I am too heady. When I sack'd the seven-hill'd city, I kept him aloof With the armour of proof, Though here I have never a rag on. With a fiery sword and target, There fought I with this monster: My zeal deride, 'And all my deeds misconster. I have seen two in a vision With a flying book between them. Five times in a year, And been cur'd by reading Greenham. I observ'd in Perkins' tables So stuck in my brains, In the holy tongue of Canaan With an Hebrew root, That I bled beyond all measure. I appear'd before the archbishop, But told him to his face, That he favour'd superstition. Boldly I preach, hate a cross, hate a surplice, Mitres, copes, and rochets; Come hear me pray nine times a day, And fill your heads with crotchets. -"Reliques of Ancient English Poetry." Lilli Burlero Ho! broder Teague, dost hear de decree? Lilli burlero, bullen a-la, Dat we shall have a new deputie, Lilli burlero, bullen a-la, Lero lero, lilli burlero, lero lero, bullen a-la, Ho! by Shaint Tyburn, it is de Talböte: Lilli, etc., And he will cut de Englishmen's troate. Dough by my shoul de English do praat, Lilli, etc., De law's on dare side, and Crish knows what. But if dispence do come from de pope, Lilli, etc., We'll hang Magna Charta and dem in a rope. |