Ballad Book Part 5

And so Tom Thumbe restrained was From these his sports and play, And by his mother after that Compel'd at home to stay.

Whereas about a Christmas time, His father a hog had kil'd, And Tom would see the puddings made, For fear they should be spil'd.

He sate upon the pudding-boule, The candle for to hold; Of which there is unto this day A pretty pastime told:

For Tom fell in, and could not be For ever after found, For in the blood and batter he Was strangely lost and drownd.

Where searching long, but all in vaine, His mother after that Into a pudding thrust her sonne, Instead of minced fat.

Which pudding of the largest size Into the kettle throwne, Made all the rest to fly thereout, As with a whirle-wind blowne.

For so it tumbled up and downe, Within the liquor there, As if the devill had been boiled; Such was his mothers feare,

That up she took the pudding strait.

And gave it at the door Unto a tinker, which from thence In his blacke budget bore.

From which Tom Thumbe got loose at last And home return'd againe: Where he from following dangers long In safety did remaine.

Now after this, in sowing time, His father would him have Into the field to drive his plow, And thereupon him gave

A whip made of a barly straw To drive the cattle on: Where, in a furrow'd land new sowne, Poore Tom was lost and gon.

Now by a raven of great strength Away he thence was borne, And carried in the carrions beake Even like a graine of corne,

Unto a giants castle top, In which he let him fall, Where soone the giant swallowed up His body, cloathes and all.

But in his stomach did Tom Thumbe So great a rumbling make, That neither day nor night he could The smallest quiet take,

Untill the giant had him spewd Three miles into the sea, Whereas a fish soone tooke him up And bore him thence away.

Which l.u.s.ty fish was after caught And to king Arthur sent, Where Tom was found, and made his dwarfe, Whereas his dayes he spent

Long time in lively jollity, Belov'd of all the court, And none like Tom was then esteem'd Among the n.o.ble sort.

Amongst his deedes of courts.h.i.+p done, His highnesse did command, That he should dance a galliard brave Upon his queenes left hand.

The which he did, and for the same The king his signet gave, Which Tom about his middle wore Long time a girdle brave.

Now after this the king would not Abroad for pleasure goe, But still Tom Thumbe must ride with him, Plac'd on his saddle-bow.

Where on a time when as it rain'd, Tom Thumbe most nimbly crept In at a b.u.t.ton hole, where he Within his bosome slept.

And being neere his highnesse heart, He crav'd a wealthy boone, A liberall gift, the which the king Commanded to be done,

For to relieve his fathers wants, And mothers, being old; Which was so much of silver coin As well his armes could hold.

And so away goes l.u.s.ty Tom, With three pence on his backe, A heavy burthen, which might make His wearied limbes to cracke.

So travelling two dayes and nights, With labour and great paine, He came into the house whereas His parents did remaine;

Which was but halfe a mile in s.p.a.ce From good king Arthurs court, The which in eight and forty houres He went in weary sort.

But comming to his fathers doore, He there such entrance had As made his parents both rejoice, And he thereat was glad.

His mother in her ap.r.o.n tooke Her gentle sonne in haste, And by the fier side, within A walnut sh.e.l.l, him plac'd:

Whereas they feasted him three dayes Upon a hazell nut, Whereon he rioted so long He them to charges put;

And thereupon grew wonderous sicke, Through eating too much meate, Which was sufficient for a month For this great man to eate.

But now his businesse call'd him foorth, King Arthurs court to see, Whereas no longer from the same He could a stranger be.

But yet a few small April drops, Which settled in the way, His long and weary journey forth Did hinder and so stay.

Until his carefull father tooke A hollow straw in sport, And with one blast blew this his sonne Into king Arthurs court.

Now he with tilts and turnaments Was entertained so, That all the best of Arthurs knights Did him much pleasure show.

As good Sir Lancelot of the Lake, Sir Tristram, and sir Guy; Yet none compar'd with brave Tom Thum, In knightly chivalry.

In honor of which n.o.ble day, And for his ladies sake, A challenge in king Arthurs court Tom Thumbe did bravely make.

Gainst whom these n.o.ble knights did run, Sir Chinon and the rest, Yet still Tom Thumbe with matchles might Did beare away the best.

He likewise cleft the smallest haire From his faire ladies head, Not hurting her whose even hand Him lasting honors bred.

Such were his deeds and n.o.ble acts In Arthurs court there showne, As like in all the world beside Was hardly seene or knowne.

Now at these sports he toyld himselfe That he a sicknesse tooke, Through which all manly exercise He carelesly forsooke.

Where lying on his bed sore sicke, King Arthurs doctor came, With cunning skill, by physicks art, To ease and cure the same.

His body being so slender small, This cunning doctor tooke A fine prospective gla.s.se, with which He did in secret looke

Into his sickened body downe, And therein saw that Death Stood ready in his wasted guts To sease his vitall breath.

His armes and leggs consum'd as small As was a spiders web, Through which his dying houre grew on, For all his limbes grew dead.

His face no bigger than an ants, Which hardly could be seene: The losse of which renowned knight Much griev'd the king and queene.

And so with peace and quietnesse He left this earth below; And up into the Fayry Land His ghost did fading goe.

Whereas the Fayry Queene receiv'd With heavy mourning cheere, The body of this valiant knight Whom she esteem'd so deere.

For with her dancing nymphes in greene, She fetcht him from his bed, With musicke and sweet melody So soone as life was fled:

For whom king Arthur and his knights Full forty daies did mourne; And, in remembrance of his name That was so strangely borne,

He built a tomb of marble gray, And yeare by yeare did come To celebrate the mournefull day, And buriall of Tom Thum.