Cavalier Songs and Ballads of England from 1642 to 1684 Part 22

Vile rascals! I will make you know I am a magistrate, And that as such I bear about The vengeance of the State.

Go, seize them, Ralph, and bring them in, That I may know the cause, That first induced them to this rage, And thus to break the laws.

Ralph, who was both his squire and clerk, And constable withal, I' th' name o' th' Commonwealth aloud Did for a.s.sistance bawl.

The words had hardly pa.s.s'd his mouth But they secure them both; And Ralph, to show his furious zeal And hatred to the cloth,

Runs to the vicar through the crowd, And takes him by the throat: How ill, says he, doth this become Your character and coat!

Was it for this not long ago You took the Covenant, And in most solemn manner swore That you'd become a saint?

And here he gave him such a pinch That made the vicar shout, - Good people, I shall murder'd be By this unG.o.dly lout.

He gripes my throat to that degree I can't his talons bear; And if you do not hold his hands, He'll throttle me, I fear.

At this a butcher of the town Steps up to Ralph in ire, - What, will you squeeze his gullet through, You son of blood and fire?

You are the Devil's instrument To execute the laws; What, will you murther the poor man With your phanatick claws?

At which the squire quits his hold, And lugging out his blade, Full at the st.u.r.dy butcher's pate A furious stroke he made.

A dismal outcry then began Among the country folk; Who all conclude the butcher slain By such a mortal stroke.

But here good fortune, that has still A friends.h.i.+p for the brave, I' th' nick misguides the fatal blow, And does the butcher save.

The knight, who heard the noise within, Runs out with might and main, And seeing Ralph amidst the crowd In danger to be slain,

Without regard to age or s.e.x Old basket-hilt so ply'd, That in an instant three or four Lay bleeding at his side.

And greater mischiefs in his rage This furious knight had done, If he had not prevented been By d.i.c.k, the blacksmith's son,

Who catch'd his wors.h.i.+p on the hip, And gave him such a squelch, That he some moments breathless lay Ere he was heard to belch.

Nor was the squire in better case, By st.u.r.dy butcher ply'd, Who from the shoulder to the flank Had soundly swinged his hide.

Whilst things in this confusion stood, And knight and squire disarm'd, Up comes a neighbouring gentleman The outcry had alarm'd;

Who riding up among the crowd, The vicar first he spy'd, With sleeveless gown and b.l.o.o.d.y band And hands behind him ty'd.

Bless me, says he, what means all this?

Then turning round his eyes, In the same plight, or in a worse, The cobbler bleeding spies.

And looking further round he saw, Like one in doleful dump, The knight, amidst a gaping mob, Sit pensive on his rump.

And by his side lay Ralph his squire, Whom butcher fell had maul'd; Who bitterly bemoan'd his fate, And for a surgeon call'd.

Surprised at first he paused awhile, And then accosts the knight, - What makes you here, Sir Samuel, In this unhappy plight?

At this the knight gave's breast a thump, And stretching out his hand, - If you will pull me up, he cried, I'll try if I can stand.

And then I'll let you know the cause; But first take care of Ralph, Who in my good or ill success Doth always stand my half.

In short, he got his wors.h.i.+p up And led him in the door; Where he at length relates the tale As I have told before.

When he had heard the story out, The gentleman replies, - It is not in my province, sir, Your wors.h.i.+p to advise.

But were I in your wors.h.i.+p's place, The only thing I'd do, Was first to reprimand the fools, And then to let them go.

I think it first advisable To take them from the rabble, And let them come and both set forth The occasion of the squabble.

This is the Vicar, Sir, of Bray, A man of no repute, The scorn and scandal of his tribe, A loose, ill-manner'd brute.

The cobbler's a poor strolling wretch That mends my servants' shoes; And often calls as he goes by To bring me country news.

At this his wors.h.i.+p grip'd his beard, And in an angry mood, Swore by the laws of chivalry That blood required blood.

Besides, I'm by the Commonwealth Entrusted to chastise All knaves that straggle up and down To raise such mutinies.

However, since 'tis your request, They shall be call'd and heard; But neither Ralph nor I can grant Such rascals should be clear'd.

And so, to wind the tale up short, They were call'd in together; And by the gentlemen were ask'd What wind 'twas blew them thither.

Good ale and handsome landladies You might have nearer home; And therefore 'tis for something more That you so far are come.

To which the vicar answer'd first, - My living is so small, That I am forced to stroll about To try and get a call.

And, quoth the cobbler, I am forced To leave my wife and dwelling, T' escape the danger of being press'd To go a colonelling.

There's many an honest jovial lad Unwarily drawn in, That I have reason to suspect Will scarce get out again.

The proverb says, HARM WATCH HARM CATCH, I'll out of danger keep, For he that sleeps in a whole skin Doth most securely sleep.

My business is to mend bad soals And st.i.tch up broken quarters: A cobbler's name would look but odd Among a list of martyrs.

Faith, cobbler, quoth the gentleman, And that shall be my case; I will neither party join, Let what will come to pa.s.s.

No importunities or threats My fixt resolves shall rest; Come here, Sir Samuel, where's his health That loves old England best.

I pity those unhappy fools Who, ere they were aware, Designing and ambitious men Have drawn into a snare.

But, vicar, to come to the case, - Amidst a senseless crowd, What urged you to such violence, And made you talk so loud?

Pa.s.sion I'm sure does ill become Your character and cloath, And, tho' the cause be ne'er so just, Brings scandal upon both.

Vicar, I speak it with regret, An inadvertent priest Renders himself ridiculous, And every body's jest.

The vicar to be thus rebuked A little time stood mute; But having gulp'd his pa.s.sion down, Replies, - That cobbling brute