The Shepherd and the King, and of Gillian the Shepherd's Wife, with h●● Churlish answers: being full of mirth and merry pastime.  
To the Tune of flying fane.  

 depiction of (disguised) King Alfred and the shepherd  
 depiction of (disguised) King Alfred letting Gillian's cake burn  

AN Elder time there was of yore,  
when gybes of Churlish glee,  
Were used amongst our country Carls,  
though no such thing now be.  
The which King Alfred liking well,  
forsook his stately Court:  
And in disguise unknown went forth,  
to see that jovial sport.   

How Dick and Tom, in clouted shoes,  
and coats of russet Grace,  
Esteemed themselves more brave than those  
that went in Golden ray.  
In Garments fit for such a life,  
our good King Alfred went,  
All raged and torn, as from his back,  
the Beggar his clothes had rend.   

A Sword and Buckler good and strong  
to give jacke sauce a rap:  
And on his head in stead of a Crown,  
he wore a Munmouth Cap;  
Thus coasting thorough Somerset Shire,  
near Newton Court he met  
A Shepherd swain, of lusty limbs,  
that up and down did jet.   

He wore a Bounet of good grey,  
close buttoned to his chin:  
And at his back a leather Scrip,  
with much good meat therein.  
God speed good Shepherd (qd. our King)  
I come to be thy Guest,  
To taste of thy good victual here,  
and drink that's of the best.   

Thy Scrip I know hath cheer good store,  
What then, (the Shepherd said)  
Thou séem'st to be some scurvy Thief,  
and makest me sore afraid.  
Yet if thou wilt thy dinner win,  
thy Sword and buckler take:  
And if thou canst, into my Scrip  
therewith an entrance make.   

I tell thee Roister it hath store  
of Beef and Bacon fat,  
With shives of Barley bread to make  
thy chaps to water at.  
Here stands my Bottle, here my Bag,  
if thou canst win them, Roister,  
Against thy Sword and Buckler here  
my shéep-hooke is my waster.   

Benedicite now (quoth our King)  
it never shall be said,  
That Alfred of thy Shepherd's hook,  
will stand a whit afraid.  
So roundly thus they both fell to't,  
where giving bang for bang:  
At every blow the Shepherd gave,  
King alfred's Sword cried twang.   

His Buckler proved his chiefest fence,  
for still the Shepherd's hook  
Was that, the which good Alfred could  
in no good manner brook.  
At last when they had sought four hours,  
and it grew just midday,  
And wearied both, with right good will,  
desired each other stay.   

King's truce I cry, quoth Alfred then,  
good Shepherd hold thy hand:  
A sturdier fellow than they self,  
life's not within this Land:  
Nor a Rustier Roister than thou art,  
the churlish Shepherd said:  
To fell thee plain, thy Théevish looks  
now make my heart afraid.   

Else sure thou art some Prodigal,  
that hast consumed thy store:  
And here comest wa●dring to this place,  
to rob and steal for more.  
Deem not of me, than quoth our King,  
good Shepherd, in such sort:  
A Gentleman well known I am,  
In good Kings alfred's Court.   

The Devil thou art, the Shepherd said,  
that goest in rags thus torn:  
Thou rather séem'st (I think) to be  
some Beggar basely borne:  
But if thou wilt mend thy estate,  
and here a Shepherd be:  
At night to Gillian my old wife,  
thou shalt go home with me.   

For she's as good a toothless Dame,  
as mumblet● on brown Bread:  
Where thou shalt lie in harden sheets,  
upon a fresh Straw bed:  
Of Whig and Whey, we have great store,  
and keeps good Peas-straw fires:  
And now and then good barley cakes,  
when better day requires.   

But for my Master which is chief,  
and Lord of Newton Court:  
He keeps (I say) us Shepherd S●●●●●●  
in fare more braver sort:  
We there have Curds and clouted C●●●●●  
of red Cow's morning milk:  
And now and then fine Buttered C●●●●  
as soft as any silk.   

Of Beef, and roasted Bacon store,  
that is most fat and greasy,  
We have likewise to feed our Chaps,  
to make them glib and easy.  
Thus if thou wilt my man become,  
this usage shalt thou have:  
If not, adieu, go hang they self,  
and so farewell sir knave.   

King Alfred hearing of this glee,  
the churlish Shepherd said,  
Was well content to be his man,  
and so the bargain made:  
A penny round the Shepherd gave  
in earnest of the match:  
To keep his sheep in Field and Fo●●  
as Shepherds use to watch.   

His wages should be full ten Groats  
for service of an year:  
Yet was it not his use, old Lad,  
to hire a man so dear:  
For did the King himself (quoth he●  
unto my Cottage come:  
He should not for his twelvemonths 〈◊〉  
receive a greater sum.   

Here at the bonny King grew blithe  
to hear this Clownish jest:  
How silly Sots as Customers,  
do descant on the best.  
But not to spoil the following spor●●  
he was content (good King)  
To sit the Shepherd's humour right  
in every kind of thing.   

A Shéep-hooke then, with Patch his 〈◊〉  
and Tar box by his side:  
He with his Master cheek by jowl  
unto old Gillian hied:  
Unto whose sight no sooner ●ome,  
whom have you here (quoth she? ●  
A Fellow (I doubt) to cut ●ur thr●●●●  
so like a knave looks he.    

The second part.  
To the same tune.  
 depiction of (disguised) King Alfred tending the shepherd's flock  

NOt so, old Dame, quoth Alfred strait,  
of me you need not fear:  
●y Master hath hired me for ten Groats,  
●o serve you one whole year.  
〈◊〉 good Dame Gillian, grant me leave  
within your house to stay:  
●●r by Saint Anne do what you can,  
I will not yet away.   

●er churlish usage pleased him still,  
but put him to such proof:  
●●at he that night was almost choked  
within that smoky roof.  
●ut as he sat with smiling cheer,  
the event of all to see:  
●●s Dame brought forth a piece of Dowe,  
which in the fire throws she.   

●here lying on the Hearth to bake,  
by chance the Cake did burn:  
●hat canst thou not, thou Lout, quoth she,  
Make pains the same to turn?  
●hou art more quick to rake it out,  
and eat it up half Dough:  
●●en thus to stay till't be enough,  
and so thy manners show.   

●●t serve me such another trick,  
I'll thwack thee on the snout:  
●hich made the patiented King good man,  
of her to stand in doubt.  
●●t to be brief, to bed they went,  
the goodman and his Wife:  
● never such a lodging had  
●ing Alfred in his life.   

〈◊〉 he was laid on white Sheep's wool,  
●●w pulled from tanned Fells:  
〈◊〉 o'er his head hung spider's webs,  
●s if they had been Bells:  
〈◊〉 this the Country guise, thought he?  
then here I will not stay:  
●●t hence be gone so soon as breaks  
●he peeping of next day.   

●●e cackling Geese and Hens kept roost,  
●nd perched by his bed side:  
●here at the last the watchful Cock  
●ade known the morning's tide:  
●●en up got Alfred, with his horn,  
●nd blue so long a blast,  
●●at made Gillian and her Groom,  
●n bed full sore ágast.   

Arise, quoth she, we are undone,  
this night we lodged have,  
At unawares within our house,  
a false dissembling Knave.  
Rise, husband, rise, he'll cut our throats,  
he calleth for his Mates,  
I'd give (old Will) our good Cade-Lambe  
he would departed our Gates.   

But still King Alfred blew his horn,  
before them more and more:  
Till that a hundred Lords and Knights  
alighted at their door:  
Which cried all hail, all hail good King,  
long have we looked your Grace:  
And here you find (my merry men all)  
your Sovereign in this place.   

We shall be surely hanged up both,  
old Gillian, I much fear,  
Tha Shepherd said, for using thus  
our good King Alfred here:  
A pardon my Liege (quote Gillian then)  
for my Husband and for me;  
By these ten bones I never thought,  
the same that now I see.   

And by my hook the Shepherd said,  
and Oath both good and true,  
Before this time, O Noble King,  
I never your highness knew:  
Then pardon me, and my old Wife,  
that we may after say:  
When first you came into our house,  
it was a happy day.   

It shall be done, said Alfred strait,  
and Gillian my old Dame,  
For this thy churlish using me,  
deserveth not much blame:  
For 'tis the Country guise, I see,  
to be thus bluntish still.  
And where the plainest meaning is,  
remains the smallest ill.   

And Master, so I tell thee now,  
for thy late manhood shown,  
A thousand Wethers I'll bestow  
upon thee for thine own:  
With pasture grounds, as much as will  
suffice to feed them all:  
And this thy Cottage, I will change  
into a stately Hall,   

And for the same (as duty binds)  
the Shepherd said, good King:  
A milk white Lamb once every Year,  
I'll to your Highness bring:  
And Gillian my old Wife likewise,  
of wool to make your Coats:  
Will give so much at Newyears tied,  
as shall be worth ten Groats.   

And in your praise, my Bagpipe shall  
sound sweetly every year:  
How Alfred our renowned King,  
most kindly hath been here.  
Thanks, Shepherd, thankes, qd. he again  
the next time I come hither,  
My Lords with me here in this house,  
will all be merry together.   
FIN●●