Enough to make him fine to quarrel
At Hereford sizes in new apparel ;
And get him as much green velvet perhap,
S'all give it a face to his Monmouth cap.

Cho. But then the ore of Lempster,
By got is never a sempster,
That, when he is spun, e'er did,
Yet match him with hir thrid.
Still, still, &c.

3SONG.

Rheese. Aull this's the back's; now let us tell ye,
Of some provisions for the belly :

As cid, and goat, and great goat's mother,
And runt, and cow, and good cow's uther :
And once but taste o' the Welse mutton,
Your Englis seep's not worth a button.
And then for your fiss, s'all shoose it your diss.
Look but about, and there is a trout,

Cho. A salmon, cor, or checin,

Will feed you six or seven,
As taull man as ever swagger,
With Welse hook, or long dagger.
Still, still, &c.

2 But then the ore of Lempster.] " As for the wool of Hereford (Fuller says) it is best known, to the honour thereof by the name of Lempster ore, being absolutely the finest in all England." It is frequently noticed by our old poets: thus Herrick:

" By many a turn and many a cross,
The fairies reach a bank of moss,
Spungy and swelling, and far more

Soft, than the finest Lempster ore." Oberon's Palace.

4 SONG.

Evan. But aull this while was never think
A word in praise of our Welse drink,
Yet for all that is a cup of Bragat,
All England s'eere may cast his cab-at.
And what you say to ale of Webley,
Toudge him as well, you'll praise him trebly,
As well as Metheglin, or sider, or meath,
S'all s'ake it your dagger quite out o' the seath.

Cho. And oat-cake of Guarthenion,
With a goodly leek, or onion,
To give as sweet a rellis
As e'er did harper Ellis.

Still, still, &c.

5 SONG.

How. And yet, is nothing now all this,
If of our musiques we do miss ;
Both harps and pipes too, and the crowd
Must aull come in and tauke alowd,
As loud as Bangu, Davie's bell,
Of which is no doubt yow have hear tell,
As well as our lowder Wrexham organ,
And rumbling rocks in s'eere Glamorgan; 3

Cho. Where look but in the ground there,

And you s'all see a sound there,
That put him altogedder,
Is sweet as measure pedder.

Still, still, &c.

6 SONG.

Rheese. Au, but what say yow should it shance too,
That we should leap it in a dance too,
And make it you as great a pleasure,
If but your eyes be now at leisure;
As in your ears shall leave a laughter,
To last upon you six days after ?
Ha! well-a-go to, let us try to do
As your old Britton, things to be writ on.
Cho. Come put on other looks now,

And lay away your hooks now;
And though yet yow ha' no pump, sirs,
Let'em hear that yow can jump, sirs,
Still, still, &c.

Jen. Speak it your conscience now; did your ursip ever see such a song in your days? 'is not

:

But dare thou not, I charge, in any cace,
To enter into that same balefull bowre,

For feare the cruell Feends should thee unwares devowre.

But standing high aloft, low lay thine eare,
And there such ghastly noyse of yron chaines,
And brasen caudrons thou shalt rombling heare,
Which thousand sprights with long enduring paines
Doe tosse, that it will stonn thy feeble braines,
And oftentimes great grones, and grievous stownds,
When too huge toile and labour them constraines :
And oftentimes loud strokes, and ringing sowndes
From under that deepe rock most horribly rebowndes."
В. 3. с. 3.

as finely a tunes as a man would wiss to put in his ears?

Ev. Come, his madesty s'all hear better to your dance.

Here a Dance of MEN.

Ev. Haw! well danced, very well danced! Jen. Well plaid, Howell; well plaid, Rheese !

Da wharry! vellhee! well danced, i' faith!

Ev. Good boys, good boys! pold and Prittan, pold and Prittan.

Jen. Is not better this now than pigmies? this is men, this is no monsters, and you mark him: well, caull forth you goats now, your ursip s'all see a properly natural devise come from the Welse mountains: is no tuns, nor no bottils: stand by there, s'ow his ursip the hills; was dronkenry in his eyes, that make that devise in my mind. But now marg, marg, your ursip, I pray yow now, and yow s'all see natures and propriedies; the very beasts of Wales s'all do more than your men pyt in bottils and barrils, there was a tale of a tub, i' faith. [Music.] Is the goat herd and his dog, and his son, and his wife make musiques to the goats as they come from the hills; give 'em rooms, give 'em rooms, now they cym! the elderly goats is indifferently grave at first, because of his beard, and only tread it the measures; byt yow will see him put off his gravities by and by well enough, and frisk it as fine as e'er a kid on 'em aull. The Welse goat is an excellent dancer by birth, that is written of him, and of as wisely carriage, and comely behaviours a beast (for his footing especially) as some one or two man, got bless him.

Ev. A haull, a haull, come a haull! Aw vellhee.

Here the Dance of GOATS.

1 Wo. Nay, and your madestee bid the Welse goats welcome; the Welse wen'ces s'all sing your praises, and dance your healths too.

SONG.

1 Wom. Au, God bless it our good king S'ames,

His wife and his sildren, and aull his reams, 2 Wom. And aull his ursipful s'istice of peace about him,

1 Wom. And send that his court be neverwithout him. 2 Wom. Ow, that her would come down into Wales, 1 Wom. Her s'ud be very welcome to Welse Ales. 2 Wom. I have a cow,

1 Wom. And I have a hen;

2 Wom. S'all give it milk,

1 Wom. And eggs for aull his men.

Both. It self s'all have venison and other seere,

And may it be starved, that steal him his deer,
There, there, and every where.

Jen. Cym, dance now, let us hear your dance,

dance.

Ev. Ha! well plaid Ales.
How. For the honour of Wales.

Here the Men and Women dance together.

Jen. Digon! enough, enough, digon.*-Well now all the absurdities is removed and clear'd; the rest, and please your grace, s'all tarry still,

4 Digon!] i. e. enough! The words below should be Dyffryn oyr, and Gelhy oyr.