"God save your worshippe," then said the messenger,
"And grant your ladye her own hearts desire;
And to your sonne Richard good fortune and happiness,
That sweet, gentle, and gallant young squire.
Our king greets you well, and thus he doth say,
You must come to the court on St. George's day.

"Therefore, in any case, faile not to be in place."
"I-wis," quoth the miller, "this is an odd jest:
What should we doe there? faith, I am halfe afraid."
"I doubt," quoth Richard, “to be hang'd at the least.”
Nay," quoth the messenger, "you doe mistake;

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Our king he provides a great feast for your sake.”

Then sayd the miller, " By my troth, messenger,

Thou hast contented my worshippe full well:

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Hold, here are three farthings, to quite thy gentleness,
For these happy tydings which thou dost tell.
Let me see, hear thou mee; tell to our king,
We'll wayt on his mastershipp in everye thing."

The pursuivant smiled at their simplicitye,
And making many leggs, tooke their reward,
And his leave taking with great humilitye,

To the kings court againe he repair'd;
Shewing unto his grace, merry and free,
The knightes most liberall gift and bountie.

When he was gone away, thus gan the miller say:

"Here comes expenses and charges indeed;

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Now must we needs be brave, tho' we spend all we have, 45 For of new garments we have great need.

Of horses and serving-men we must have store,

With bridles and saddles, and twentye things more."

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Tushe, Sir John," quoth his wife, "why should you frett

or frowne?

You shall ne'er be att no charges for mee;

For I will turne and trim up my old russet gowne,
With everye thing else as fine as may bee;

And on our mill-horses swift we will ride,

With pillowes and pannells, as we shall provide."

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In this most statelye sort, rode they unto the court;
Their jolly sonne Richard rode foremost of all,
Who set up, for good hap, a cocks feather in his cap,
And so they jetted downe to the kings hall;
The merry old miller with hands on his side;
His wife like maid Marian did mince at that tide.

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The king and his nobles, that heard of their coming,
Meeting this gallant knight with his brave traine,
Welcome, sir knight," quoth he, "with your gay lady;
Good Sir John Cockle, once welcome againe;
And so is the squire of courage soe free."

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60

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Quoth Dicke, "A bots on you! do you know mee?"

Quoth our king gentlye, "How should I forget thee?
Thou wast my owne bed-fellowe, well it I wot."
Yea, sir," quoth Richard, "and by the same token,
Thou with thy farting didst make the bed hot."

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"Thou whore-son unhappy knave," then quoth the knight, Speake cleanly to our king, or else go sh*** "

The king and his courtiers laugh at this heartily,

While the king taketh them both by the hand;

With the court-dames and maids, like to the queen of

spades,

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The millers wife did soe orderly stand,

A milk-maids 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."

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Quoth Sir John Cockle, "I'll pledge you a pottle,
Were it the best ale in Nottinghamshire :"

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V. 57, for good hap: i. e. for good luck; they were going on an hazardous expedition.

V. 60. Maid Marian, in the Morris dance, was represented by a man in woman's clothes, who was to take short steps in order to sustain the femalo character.

But then sayd our king, "Now I think of a thing;
Some of your lightfoote I would we had here.'
"Ho! ho!" quoth Richard, "full well I may say it,
'Tis knavery to eate it, and then to betray it."

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Why art thou angry?" quoth our king merrilye; "In faith, I take it now very unkind:

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I thought thou wouldst pledge me in ale and wine heartily."
Quoth Dicke, "You are like to stay till I have din'd:
You feed us with twatling dishes so small;

Zounds, a blacke-pudding is better than all."

"Aye, marry," quoth our king, "that were a daintye thing, Could a man get but one here for to eate:"

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With that Dicke straite arose, and pluckt one from his hose,
Which with heat of his breech gan to sweate.
The king made a proffer to snatch it away :-

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'Tis meat for your master: good sir, you 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.
Here with the ladyes such sport they did make,
The nobles with laughing did make their sides ake.

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Many thankes for their paines did the king give them,
Asking young Richard then, if he would wed;
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."

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Then Sir John Cockle the king call'd unto him,
And of merry Sherwood made him o'er seer,

And gave him out of hand three hundred pound yearlye:

"Take heed now you steale no more of my deer;

And once a quarter let's here have your view;
And now, Sir John Cockle, I bid you adieu."

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XXII.

The Shepherd's Resolution.

This beautiful old song was written by a poet, whose name would have been utterly forgotten, if it had not been preserved by Swift, as a term of contempt. "Dryden and Wither" are coupled by him like the Bavius and Mævius of Virgil. Dryden, however, has had justice done him by posterity: and as for Wither, though of subordinate merit, that he was not altogether devoid of genius will be judged from the following stanzas. The truth is, Wither was a very voluminous partywriter; and as his political and satirical strokes rendered him extremely popular in his lifetime, so afterwards, when these were no longer relished, they totally consigned his writings to oblivion.

George Wither was born June 11, 1588, and in his younger years distinguished himself by some pastoral pieces, that were not inelegant; but growing afterwards involved in the political and religious disputes in the times of James I. and Charles I., he employed his poetical vein in severe pasquils on the court and clergy, and was occasionally a sufferer for the freedom of his pen. In the civil war that ensued, he exerted himself in the service of the Parliament, and became a considerable sharer in the spoils. He was even one of those provincial tyrants whom Oliver distributed over the kingdom, under the name of Major-Generals, and had the fleecing of the county of Surrey; but, surviving the Restoration, he out-lived both his power and his affluence; and giving vent to his chagrin in libels on the court, was long a prisoner in Newgate and the Tower. He died at length on the 2nd of May, 1667.

During the whole course of his life, Wither was a continual publisher, having generally for opponent Taylor the Water-poet. The long list of his productions may be seen in Wood's Athene Oxon. vol. ii. His most popular satire is entitled, Abuses whipt and stript, 1613. His most poetical pieces were eclogue, entitled, The Shepherd's Hunting, 1615, 8vo, and others printed at the end of Browne's Shepherd's Pipe, 1614, 8vo. The following sonnet is extracted from a long pastoral piece of his, entitled, The Mistresse of Philarete, 1622, Svo, which is said in the preface to be one of the author's first poems; and may therefore be dated as early as any of the foregoing.

SHALL I, wasting in dispaire,

Dye because a woman's faire?

Or make pale my cheeks with care
'Cause another's rosie are?

Be shee fairer than the day,
Or the flowry meads in may;

If she be not so to me,

What care I how faire shee be?

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Where they want of riches find,

Thinke what with them they would doe
That without them dare to woe;

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And, unlesse that minde I see,

What care I how great she be?

Great or good, or kind or faire,
I will ne'er the more dispaire;
If she love me, this beleeve:
I will die ere she shall grieve.
If she slight me when I wooe,
I can scorne and let her goe;
If she be not fit for me,
What care I for whom she be?

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