The tapsters, hostlers, chamberlains, and all,
Saved me a labour, that I need not call,
The jugs were filled and filled, the cups went round,
And in a word great kindness there I found,
For which both to my cousin, and his men,
I'll still be thankful in word, deed, and pen.
Till Thursday morning there I made my stay,
And then I went plain Dunstable highway.
My very heart with drought methought did shrink,
I went twelve miles, and no one bade me drink.
Which made me call to mind, that instant time,
That drunkenness was a most sinful crime.
When Puddle-hill I footed down, and past
A mile from thence, I found a hedge at last.
There stroke we sail, our bacon, cheese, and bread,
We drew like fiddlers, and like farmers fed.
And whilst two hours we there did take our ease.
My nag made shift to mump green pulse[1] and peas.
Thus we our hungry stomachs did supply,
And drank the water of a brook hard by.
Away toward Hockley in the Hole, we make,
When straight a horseman did me overtake,
Who knew me, and would fain have given me coin,
I said, my bonds did me from coin enjoin,
I thanked and prayed him to put up his chink,
And willingly I wished it drowned in drink.
Away rode he, but like an honest man,
I found at Hockley standing at the Swan,
- ↑ Pulse.—All sorts of leguminous seeds.
