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All sorts of cattle this dragon would eat,

It is not strength that always wins, Some say he ate up trees,

For wit doth strength excel; And that the forests sure he would

Which made our cunning champion Devour up by degrees ;

Creep down into a well, For bouses and churches were to him geese Where he did think this dragon would drink, and turkeys;

And so he did in truth ; He ate all and left none behind,

And as he stooped low, he rose up and cried, 1 But some stones, dear Jack, that he could not

boh! crack,

And kicked him in the mouth. Which on the hills you will find.

Hard by a furious knight there dwelt; Oh! quoth the dragon, with a deep sigh,
Men, womer girls, and boys,

And turned six times together,
Sighing and sobving, came to his lodging, Sobbing and tearing, cursing and swearing
And made a hideous noise.

Out of his throat of leather. Ob, save us all, More of More-hall,

More of More-hall, oh thou rascal! Thou peerless knight of these woods; Would I had seen thee never! Do but slay this dragon, who won't leave us with the thing at thy foot thou hast pricked a rag on,

my throat, We'll give thee all our goods.

And I'm quite undone forever!

GOOD ALE.

401

Murder, murder! the dragon cried,

Alack, alack, for grief!
Had you but missed that place, you could

Have done me no mischief.
Then his head he shaked, trembled, and

quaked, And down he lay and cried; First on one knee, then on back tumbled he, So groaned, and kicked, and died.

OLD BALLAD. (English.) Version of COVENTRY PATMORE,

Then doth she trowl to me the bowl,

Even as a malt-worm should; And saith, “Sweetheart. I took my part

Of this jolly good ale and old." Back and side go bare, go bare;

Both foot and hand go cold ;
But, belly, God send thee good ale

enough,
Whether it be ner or old !

GOOD ALE.

I CANNOT eat but little meat

My stomach is not good;
But sure, I think that I can drink

With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care;

I am nothing a-cold-
I stuff my skin so full within

Of jolly good ale and old.
Buck and side go bare, go bare ;

Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale

enough,
Whether it be new or old !

Now let them drink till they nod and

wink, Even as good fellows should do; They shall not miss to have the bliss

Good ale doth bring men to; And all poor souls that have scoured

bowls, Or have them lustily trowled, God save the lives of them and their

wives, Whether they be young or old ! Back and side go bare, go bare ;

Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale

enough,
Whether it be nero or old !

Joux STOL.

THE JOVIAL BEGGAR.

I love no roast but a nut-brown toast,

And a crab laid in the fire;
A little bread shall do me stead-

Much bread I not desire.
No frost nor snow, nor wind, I trow,

Can hurt me if I wold-
I am so wrapt, and thorowly lapt

Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare ;

Both foot and hand go cold;
Dut, belly, God send thee good ale

enough,
Whether it be new or old !

There was a jovial beggar,

He had a wooden leg,
Lame from his cradle,
And forced for to beg.
And a-begging we will go,

Will go, will go,
And a-begging we will go.

Ani Tyb, my wife, that as her life

Loveth well good ale to seek, Full oft drinks she, till you may see The tears run down her cheek;

A bag for his oatmeal,

Another for his salt,
And a long pair of crutches,
To show that he can halt.
And a-begging we will go,

Will go, will go,
And a-begging we will go.

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I fear no plots against me,

I live in open cell ; Then who would be a king, lads, When the beggar lives so well ? And a-begging we will go,

Will go,

SHE.

will

go, And a-begging we will go.

ANONYMOUS

It is four-and-forty yeeres ago

Since the one of us the other did ken; And we have had betwixt us towe

Of children either nine or ten;

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