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Here's Dick Cromwell's Protectorship,
And here are Lambert's commissions,
And here is Hugh Peters his scrip
Cramm'd with the tumultuous Petitions.
Says old Simon, &c.

And here are old Noll's brewing vessels,
And here are his dray, and his slings;
Here are Hewson's awl, and his bristles,

With diverse other odd things:
And what is the price doth belong

To all these matters before ye?
I'll sell them all for an old song,
And so I do end my story.
Says old Simon, &c.

V. 94. See Grey's Hudibras, pt. 1. cant. ii. v. 570, &c.

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V. 100, 102. Cromwell had in his younger years followed the brewing trade at Huntingdon. Col. Hewson is said to have been originally a cobbler.

XV.

The Baffled Knight, or Lady's Policy.

Given (with some corrections) from a MS. copy, and collated with two printed ones in Roman character in the Pepys collection.

THERE was a knight was drunk with wine,
A riding along the way, sir;

And there he met with a lady fine,
Among the cocks of hay, sir.

"Shall you and I, O lady faire,
Among the grass lye down-a,
And I will have a special care

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Of rumpling of your gown-a? 'Upon the grass there is a dewe

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Will spoil my damask gowne, sir;
My gowne and kirtle they are newe,

And cost me many a crowne, sir."

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"I have a cloak of scarlet red,
Upon the ground I'll throwe it;
Then, lady faire, come, lay thy head;
We'll play, and none shall knowe it."

"O yonder stands my steed so free
Among the cocks of hay, sir;

And if the pinner should chance to see,
He'll take my steed away, sir."

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"O go with me to my father's hall;

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Fair chambers there are three, sir;

And you shall have the best of all,

And I'll your chamberlaine bee, sir."

He mounted himself on his steed so tall,
And her on her dapple gray, sir;
And there they rode to her father's hall,
Fast pricking along the way, sir.

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To her father's hall they arrived strait; 'Twas moated round about-a;

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"A herb there is, that lowly grows,
And some do call it rue, sir;
The smallest dunghill cock that crows
Would make a capon of you, sir.

"A flower there is, that shineth bright,

Some call it mary-gold-a;

He that wold not when he might,
He shall not when he wold-a."

The knight was riding another day,
With cloak and hat and feather,
He met again with that lady gay,
Who was angling in the river.

"Now, lady faire, I've met with you,

You shall no more escape me;

Remember, how not long agoe

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"Looke yonder, good Sir Knight, I pray,

Methinks I now discover,

A riding upon his dapple gray,
My former constant lover."

On tip-toe peering stood the knight,
Fast by the river's brink-a;

The lady pusht with all her might:

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'Sir Knight, now swim or sink-a."

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“False lady, here thou'rt in my powre, And no one now can hear thee;

And thou shalt sorely rue the hour

That e'er thou dar'dst to jeer me.

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"Well then, if I must grant your suit,

Yet think of your boots and spurs, sir:

Let me pull off both spur and boot,

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Or else you cannot stir, sir."

He set him down upon the grass

And begg'd her kind assistance;

"Now," smiling thought this lovely lass,

"I'll make you keep your distance."

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Then pulling off his boots half-way:

"Sir Knight, now I'm your betters ; You shall not make of me your prey; Sit there like a knave in fetters." The knight when she had served soe, He fretted, fum'd, and grumbled;

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For he could neither stand nor goe,
But like a cripple tumbled.

“Farewell, Sir Knight, the clock strikes ten,

Yet do not move nor stir, sir;

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I'll send you my father's serving men

To pull off your boots and spurs, sir.

"This merry jest you must excuse,

You are but a stingless nettle;

You'd never have stood for boots and shoes,

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All night in grievous rage he lay,

Rolling upon the plain-a;

Next morning a shepherd past that way,

Who set him right again-a.

Then mounting upon his steed so tall,

By hill and dale he swore-a:

“I'll ride at once to her father's hall; She shall escape no more-a.

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"I'll take her father by the beard;
I'll challenge all her kindred;
Each dastard soul shall stand affeard ;

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My wrath shall no more be hindred."

He rode unto her father's house,

Which every side was moated;

The lady heard his furious vows,
And all his vengeance noted.

Thought shee," Sir Knight, to quench your rage,

Once more I will endeavour;

This water shall your fury 'swage,

Or else it shall burn for ever."

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