FRIER AND THE BOY.
THere dwelt a man in my Countrie,
Who in his life had wives three,
A blessing full of joy:
[...]y his first wife a child he had,
Which was a pretty sturdy Lad,
A good unhappy Boy.
[...]is father loved him very wel,
But his stepmother never a deal;
I tell you as I think.
[...]ll things she thought lost, by the Rood,
Which might the boy do any good,
As either meat or drink.
[...]nd yet, I wis, it was but bad,
[...]or half enough thereof he had,
But ever more the worst,
[...]nd therefore evil might she fare,
That wrought the little boy such care,
So far-forth as she durst.
Into the man the wife gan say,
[...] would ye put this boy away,
And that right soon in haste:
Truly he is a wicked Lad,
[...] would some other man him had
That would him better chaste.
Then said the good man: Dame, not so,
[...] will not let the young boy go,
Hee's but of tender age:
[...]e shal with me this year abide,
Till he be grown more strong and try'd,
For to win better wage.
We have a man, a sturdy Lout,
Who keeps our Neat the fields about,
And sleepeth all the day:
He shal bide home, as God me shield,
And Iack shal pass into the field,
For that I think it need,
On the morrow when it was day,
The little boy went on his way,
Towards the fields with speed:
Of no man took he any cure.
But sung, Hay ho, away the mure,
With mirth he did pursue.
Forward he drew with wight and main
Until he came amidst the plain,
And then his dinner drew.
But when he saw it was so bad,
Full little list thereto he had,
And put it up from sight,
Saying: He had no will to taste,
And that his hunger still should last,
Till he came home at night,
Now as the boy sate on an hill,
There came an old man him until,
Was walking by the way:
Who said: My son, now God thee see
Full welcome Father, may ye be,
The little boy did say.
The old man said: I hunger sore,
[...]ack, hast thou any meat in store,
Which thou mayest give to me.
The boy reply'd: So God me save,
To such poor victuals as I have;
Right welcome you shal be.
Of this the old man was full glad,
The boy drew forth such as he had,
And said: Go to gladly.
The old man easie was to please,
He ate, and made himself at ease,
Saying, Son, gramercy:
And for the meat thou gave to me,
I will give three things unto thee,
what e're thou wilt intreat.
Then said the boy: The best I know,
That ye give to me a bow,
With which I birds may get,
A bow, my son, I shal thee give,
[Page]which shal last while thou dost live,
Yea, never bow nor break:
[...]or if thou shoot therein all day,
Talking or winking any way,
The mark still shalt thou hit.
[...]ow when the bow in hand he felt,
[...]nd had arrows under his belt,
He merry was, I wish:
[...]nd said: Had I a pype withall,
[...]hough ne're so little, nor so smal,
I had all that I wish.
pype, Son, shalt thou have also,
[...]hich in true Musick so shal go,
I put thee out of doubt:
[...]hat whosoever shal it hear,
[...]hal have no power to forbear:
But laugh and leap about.
[...]ow tell me what the third shal be,
[...]or three things will I give to thee,
As I have said before.
[...]he boy then smiling, answer made
[...] have enough for my poor trade,
And will desire no more.
[...]he old man said: My troath is p [...]ght,
[...]hou shal have all I thee be height:
Say on now, let me see.
At home I have, the boy reply'd,
[...] cruel step-dame full of pride,
Who is most curst to me:
When meat my father gives to me,
[...]he wishes poyson it might be,
And stareth in my face.
[...]ow when she gazeth on me so,
[...] would she might a far [...] let go,
That might ring through the place.
The old man answered then anone:
When that she looks thy face upon,
Her tail shal wynd the horn,
So lowdly, that who shal it hear,
[...]hal not be able to forbear,
But laugh her unto scorn.
[...]o farewel, son, the old man cry'd,
[Page]God keep you, Sir, the boy reply'd.
I take my leave of thee,
And he that best of all things may
Protect thee safe both night and day.
Gramercy, son said he:
When it drew near unto the night.
Jack well advis'd, hy'd home full right,
It was his ordinance;
And as he went his pype did blow,
The whilst his cattel on a row,
About him fast did dance.
Thus to the towne h [...]pypsful trim
His skipping beasts do follow him,
Into his fathers close.
He went and put them up each one,
Then went into the house anone,
Into the hall he goes.
His father at his supper sat,
And little Iack espy'd well that,
And said to him anone:
Father, all day I kept your Neat,
At night, I pray you, give me meat,
I'm hungry, by Saint Iohn.
Meatless I have ben all the day,
And kept your beasts they did not stray
My dinner was but ill.
His father took a capons wing,
And at his son he did it fling,
Bidding him eat his fill.
This grieves his step-dames heart full sore
Who loathes the lad still more and more
And stares him in the face.
With that she let go such a blast,
As made the people all agast,
And sounded through the place:
Each one did laugh and make good game;
But the curst wife grew red for shame
And wisht she had been gone.
Pardie, the boy said, well I wot.
That gun was well charged and shot,
And might have broken a stone.
Full curstly she lookt on him tho,
And then another fart let go,
[Page]Which gart the thunder rise.
Quoth Iacke Sir, did you never see,
A woman let her pellets flee,
More thick and more are ease:
Fy, said the boy unto his Dame,
Temper thy tell-tale lo [...]n for shame,
Which made her full of sorrow.
Dame, said the good maid, go thyway,
For why? I swear by night and day,
Thy gear is not to borrow.
Now afterwards, as you shal hear,
Unto the house there came a Frier,
And lay there all the night:
This wife did love him as a Saint,
And to him made a great complaint,
Of Iack's most vile despice.
We have, quoth she, within, I wis,
A wicked boy, none shrewder is,
Which doth me mighty care.
I dar not look upon his face.
Nor hardly shew my shameful case,
So filthily I fare,
For my sake, meet him to morrow,
Beat him well, and give him sorrow
Yea, make him blind and lame.
The Frier swore, he would him beat,
She prayed him, not to forget,
The boy did her much shame.
He is a witch, quoth she, I smel.
But quoth the Frier, I'le beat him wel
Of that take you no care,
I'le teach him witch craft, if I may.
O, quoth the wife, do so, I pray,
Lay on, and do not spare.
Early next morning the boy arose,
And to the field full soon he goes,
His cattle for to drive.
The Frier up as early gat,
He was afraid he came to late,
And ran full fast and blyth.
But when he came upon the land,
He found where little Iack did stand,
Keeping his beasts alone.
[Page]Now boy, he said, God give thee shame,
What hast thou done to thy step da [...],
Tel me forthwith [...]
And if thou canst no [...] quite thee well
I'le beat thee till thy body swel,
I will no longer byde.
The boy reply'd: What aileth thee?
My step-dame is as well as ye,
What need you thus to chyde?
Sir, will you see mine arrows flee,
And hit yon smal bird on the eye,
And other things withal.
Good Sir, if I have little wit,
Yet yonder bird I mean to hit,
And give her you I shal.
There sate a smal bird on a brier.
Shoot, shoot, thou wag, then said the Frier,
For that fain would I see.
Iack hit the bird upon the head,
So right that she fell down for dead,
No further could she flee.
Fast to the bush the Frier then went,
And up the bird in hands he hint,
Much wondring at the chance.
Mean time Iack took his pipe and play'd
So loud, the Frier grew mad appay'd,
And gan to skip and dance:
No sooner he the pipe sound heard;
But mad-man like he bound and fard,
Leaping the bush about.
The sharp briers scratcht him by the face,
And by the breech and other place,
That fast the blood ran out.
He tare his coat down the skirt,
His cap, his cool, his linen shirt,
And every other weed:
The thorns the while were rough a thick,
And did his privy member prick,
That fast they g [...]n to bleed.
Iack as he piped laugh [...] among,
The Frier with b [...]ers was vivel slung,
Oh, I shal dancing die.
Gentle Iack thy pip [...] [...]
And here I vow, for good not ill,
To do thee any wo.
Iack laughing to him this reply'd:
Frier, skip out at the other side,
Thou hast free leave to go:
Out of the bush the Frier then went,
All marty'rd, ragged, scratcht and rent
And torn on every side:
Hardly on him was left a clout,
To wrap his belly round about,
His harlotry to hide,
The thorns had scracht him by the face
On hands and thighs, and every place
He was all bath'd in blood:
So much that who the Frier did see,
For fear of him were fain to flee,
Thinking he had been wood.
When to the good-wife home he came
He made no brags for very shame,
To see his cloaths rent all:
Much sorrow in his heart he had,
And every man did guess him mad,
When he was in the hall.
The good-wife said where hast thou been,
Sure in some evil place I ween,
By sight of thine array.
Dame (said he) I came from thy son,
The devil and he hath me undone,
No man him conquer may.
With that the good-man he came in,
The wife set on her madding pl [...]
Cry'd here is foul array:
Thy son that is thy life and dear,
Hath almost slain the holy Frier,
Alas and well away.
The good-man said benedicite,
What hath the vile boy done to thee,
Now tell me without let?
The devil take him, the Frier then said
He made me daunce despite mine head
Among the thorns the hey go heat,
The good-man said unto him tho,
Father hadst thou been murthered so,
It had been deadly sin.
The Frier to him made this reply
The pype did sound so merrily,
That I could never blin.
Now when it grew to almost night,
Iack the boy came home full right,
As he was wont to do
But when he came unto the hall,
Full soon his Father did him call,
And bid him come him to.
Boy he said, come let me hear,
What hast thou done unto this Frier,
Lye not in any thing
Father he said, now by my birth,
I playde him but a fit of Mirth,
and pyped him a spring:
That pype said his father, I would hear,
Now God forbid cry'd out the Frier,
His hands then did he wring.
You shal the Boy said by Gods grace
The Frier replyde wo and alas,
Making his sorrows ring.
For Gods love said the wretched Frier,
And if ye will that strange pype hear,
Bind me fast to a post;
For sure my fortune this I read,
If dance I do, I am but dead,
My woful life is lost.
Strong rops they took both sharp and round,
And to the post the frier they bound,
In the midle of the hall.
And they that at the table sat,
Laughed and made good sport thereat,
Saying, Frier thou canst not fall.
Then said the good man to the Boy
Iack pype me up a merry toy,
Pype freely when thou will.
Father the Boy said verily,
You shal have mirth enough and glee
Till you bide me be still
[Page]With hat this pype h [...] quickly hint.
And pyped whilst in vecament,
Each creature gan to dance:
Lightly they skipt and leapt abo [...]t,
[...]earking there legs, now in now out
Striving aloft to prince,
The good man as in sad despaire,
Leapt out, and through, and o're his chair
No man could caper hier.
[...]ome others leapt quite o're the stocks,
Some start at stra [...], and fell ore blocks,
Some wallowed in the fire.
The good-man made himself good spor [...],
To see the dance in this mad sort:
The good-wife sat not still,
But dancing still she lookt on [...]ack,
And fast her tail did double each crack,
Loud as a water mill,
The Frier this while was almost lost,
[...]e knockt his p [...]te against the post.
It was his dancing grace:
The rope rubde him under his chin,
That the blood ran from his ta [...]ed skin,
In many a naked place,
[...]ack pyping ran into the street
They followed him with nimble feet.
Having no power to stay
And in their haste the door did crak:
Each tumbling over his fellows back.
Unmindful of their way.
The neighbors that were dwelling by,
Hearing the pype so Merrily,
Came dancing to the gate.
Some leapt ore doors some o [...] the hatch
No man would stay to draw the larch
But though he earne to late:
Some sick or sleeping in their bed,
As they by chance lift up their head:
Were with the pype awaked,
Straight out they start through door and locks,
Some in their s [...]iers, some to their smo [...]
And some stark [...]lly [...].
[Page]When all were gathered round about,
There was a vile unruly rout:
That danced in the street,
Of which some lame and could not go,
Striving to leap did tumble so:
They daunst on hands and feet.
Iack ty'rd with sport, said now Ile rest,
Do, quoth his father, I hold it best,
Thou cloyst me with chear.
I pray thee Boy thou quiet sit,
In truth this was the merriest fit,
I heard this seven year.
All these that dancing thither came,
Laught heartily, and made good game
Yet some got many a fall,
Thou cursed Boy cryed out the Frier,
Here I do summon thee appear,
Before the Official.
Look thou be there on fryda [...] next,
Ile meet thee then though now perplext,
For to ordain thy sorrow.
The Boy replyed, I mak a vow,
Frier Ile appear as soon as thou,
If fryday were to morrow.
But fryday came as you shal hear,
Iacks step-dame and the dancing Frier
Together they were met.
And other people a great pace,
Flock to the Court to hear each case.
The Official was set.
Much civil matters were to do,
More Libels read then one or two
Both against Priest and Clark.
Some there had testaments to prove,
Some women were through wanton love
Which got stroaks in the dark.
Each Proctor there did plead his case
When forth did step Frier Tobias,
And Iacks step dame also:
Sir Official aloud said he
I have brought a wicked [...]ad to thee,
This of my ruth I know,
He is a devil (quoth the wife)
And almost berav'd me of my life,
At that her tail did blow;
So loud, the assembly laught thereat,
And said her pistols crack was flat,
The charge was all amisse.
Dame (quoth gentle Official)
Proceed and tell me forth thy tale,
And do no let for this:
The wife that feard another crak,
Stood mute & nere a word she spake
Shame put her in such dread.
H [...] (said the Frier) right angerly,
[...]ave this is all still long of thee,
Now evil mot thou speed;
The Frier said, Official,
This wicked Boy will vex us all
Unless you do him chast;
S [...]r, he hath yet a pype truly,
Will make you daunce and leap ful [...]le
And break your heart at last.
The Offisial reply'd perdi [...],
Such a pype I fain would see,
And what mirth it can make:
[...]ow God forbid replyed the Frier
[...]hat ere we should that vile pipe hear
Ere I my way hence take:
[...]ypt on Iack said the Official,
[...]nd let me hear thy cunning all
Iack blew his pype ful loud,
[...]hat every man start up and daunst,
[...]octors and Priests, and Sommors pranst,
And all in that great crowd:
Ever the dask the Official ran,
[...]nd hope upon the Table than,
Straight jumpt into the door.
[...]he Frier that daunst as fast as he,
[...]t him midway dangerously,
Brake others face full sore;
[...] Register leapt from his pen,
[Page]And hopt into the throng of men,
His Irkhorn in his hand.
With swinging round about his head,
Some he strake blind, some almost dead
Some they could hardly stand:
The Proctors thing the bils about,
The good-wives tail gave many a shout
Perfuming all the mirth:
The Somoners as they had been wood,
Leap o're the forms and seats a good,
And wallowed on the earth.
Wenches that for their pennance came
And other [...]eeds of worldly shame
Daunst every one as fast.
Each sat upon a merrie [...]in,
Some brok their heads and some their s [...]i [...]
And some their noses brast.
The Official thus sore turmoylde,
Half swelt with sweat almost spoild,
Cry'd to the wanto [...] [...]ld
To pype no more within that place
But stay the sound even for Gods grace,
And love of Mary milde.
Iack said as you will it shal be,
Provided I may hence go free:
And no man do me wrong:
Neither this woman, nor this Frier
Nor any other creature here,
He answered him anone.
Iack I to thee my promise plight,
In thy defence I mean to fight,
And will oppose thy fond,
Iack cast his [...]yp, then all still stood,
Some laughing into, some raging wood,
So p [...]rted at that tyde.
The Official and the Somner,
The step-dame and the wicked Frier;
With much Joy mirth and pride,
FINIS.