The worst was, we did neither sup nor sleep,
And so a temperate diet we did keep.
The morning all enrobed in drifting fogs,
We being as ready as we had been dogs :

We need not stand upon long ready making,
But gaping, stretching, and our ears well shaking:
And for I found my host and hostess kind,

I like a true man left my sheets behind.
That Thursday morn, my weary course I framed,
Unto a town that is Newcastle named.

(Not that Newcastle standing upon Tyne)

But this town situation doth confine
Near Cheshire, in the famous county Stafford,
And for their love, I owe them not a straw for't;
But now my versing muse craves some repose,
And whilst she sleeps I'll spout a little prose.

In this town of Newcastle, I overtook an hostler, and I asked him what the next town was called, that was in my way toward Lancaster, he holding the end of a riding rod in his mouth, as if it had been a flute, piped me this answer, and said, Talk-on-the-Hill; I asked him again what he said Talk-on-the-Hill: I demanded the third time, and the third time he answered me as he did before, Talk-onthe-Hill. I began to grow choleric, and asked him why he could not talk, or tell me my way as well there as on the hill; at last I was resolved, that the next town was four miles off me, and that the

C

name of it was, Talk-on-the-Hill: I had not travelled above two miles farther: but my last night's supper (which was as much as nothing) my mind being informed of it by my stomach. I made a virtue of necessity, and went to breakfast in the Sun: I have fared better at three Suns many times before now, in Aldersgate Street, Cripplegate, and new Fish Street; but here is the odds, at those Suns they will come upon a man with a tavern bill as sharp cutting as a. tailor's bill of items: a watchman's-bill, or a welshhook falls not half so heavy upon a man; besides, most of the vintners have the law in their own hands, and have all their actions, cases, bills of debt, and such reckonings tried at their own bars; from whence there is no appeal. But leaving these impertinences, in the material Sunshine, we eat a substantial dinner, and like miserable guests we did. budget up the reversions.

And now with sleep my muse hath eased her brain
I'll turn my style from prose, to verse again.
That which we could not have, we freely spared,
And wanting drink, most soberly we fared.
We had great store of fowl (but 'twas foul way)
And kindly every step entreats me stay,
The clammy clay sometimes my heels would trip,
One foot went forward, the other back would slip,
This weary day, when I had almost past,

I came unto Sir Urian Leigh's at last,

"

TAYLOR'S Penniless Pilgrimage.

At Adlington, near Macclesfield he doth dwell,
Beloved, respected, and reputed well.

15

Through his great love, my stay with him was fixed,
From Thursday night, till noon on Monday next,

At his own table I did daily eat,

Whereat may

be supposed, did want no meat,
He would have given me gold or silver either,
But I, with many thanks, received neither.
And thus much without flattery I dare swear,
He is a knight beloved far and near,
First he's beloved of his God above,
(Which love he loves to keep, beyond all love)
Next with a wife and children he is blest,
Each having God's fear planted in their breast.
With fair demaines, revenue of good lands,
He's fairly blessed by the Almighty's hands.
And as he's happy in these outward things,
So from his inward mind continual springs
Fruits of devotion, deeds of piety,
Good hospitable works of charity,
Just in his actions, constant in his word,
And one that won his honour with the sword,

He's no carranto, cap'ring, carpet knight,

But he knows when, and how to speak or fight,
I cannot flatter him, say what I can,
He's every way a complete gentleman.
I write not this, for what he did to me,

But what mine ears, and eyes did hear and see,

Nor do I pen this to enlarge his fame.
But to make others imitate the same,
For like a trumpet were I pleased to blow,
I would his worthy worth more amply show,
But I already fear have been too bold,
And crave his pardon, me excused to hold.
Thanks to his sons and servants every one,
Both males and females all, excepting none.
To bear a letter he did me require,
Near Manchester, unto a good Esquire:

His kinsman Edmund Prestwitch, he ordained,
That I was at Manchester entertained

Two nights, and one day, ere we thence could pass,
For men and horse, roast, boiled, and oats, and

grass;

This gentleman not only gave harbour,

But in the morning sent me to hls barber,

Who laved, and shaved me, still I spared my purse,

Yet sure he left me many a hair the worse.

But in conclusion, when his work was ended,
His glass informed, my face was much amended.
And for the kindness he to me did show,

God
grant
his customers beards faster grow,
That though the time of year be dear or cheap,
From fruitful faces he may mow and reap.

Then came a smith, with shoes, and tooth and nail,
He searched my horse's hoofs, mending what did

fail,

Yet this I note, my nag, through stones and dirt,
Did shift shoes twice, ere I did shift one shirt:
Can these kind things be in oblivion hid?
No, Master Prestwitch, this and much more did,
His friendship did command and freely gave
All before writ, and more than I durst crave.
But leaving him a little, I must tell,

How men of Manchester did use me well,

Their loves they on the tenter-hooks did rack,

.

Roast, boiled, baked, too-too-much, white, claret,

sack,

Nothing they thought too heavy or too hot,

Can followed can, and pot succeeded pot,

That what they could do, all they thought too little,
Striving in love the traveller to whittle.

We went into the house of one John Pinners,
A man that lives amongst a crew of sinners)
And there eight several sorts of ale we had,
All able to make one stark drunk or mad.
But I with courage bravely flinched not,
And
gave
the town leave to discharge the shot.
We had at one time set upon the table,
Good ale of hyssop, 'twas no Æsop-fable:

Then had we ale of sage, and ale of malt,

And ale of wormwood, that could make one halt,

With ale of rosemary, and betony,

And two ales more, or else I needs must lic.

But to conclude this drinking aley-tale,