A TRUE RELATION OF THE Dreadful Combat BETWEEN More of More Hall, AND THE DRAGON of WANTLEY.  

1.  
Old Stories tell how Hercules  
A Dragon slew at Lerna,  
With seven Heads and fourteen Eyes  
To see and well discerna;  
But he had a Club  
This Dragon to drub,  
Or he had ne'er done't, I warrant ye  
But More of Morehall,  
With nothing at all,  
He slew the Dragon of Wantley.   

2.  
This Dragon had two furious Wings,  
Each one upon each Shoulder,  
With a sting in his Tail  
As long as a flail,  
Which made him bolder and bolder.  
He had long Claws,  
And in his Jaws,  
Four and forty Teeth of Iron,  
With a Hide as Tough as any Buff,  
Which did him round Environ.   

3.  
Have you not heard that the Trojan Horse,  
Held seventy men in his Belly?  
This Dragon was not quite so big,  
But very near, I'll tell ye,  
Devour did he,  
Poor Children Three,  
That could not with him grapple;  
And at one Sup,  
He eat them up,  
As one should eat an Apple.   

4.  
All sorts of Cattle this Dragon did eat,  
Some say he'd eat up Trees,  
And that the Forest sure he would  
Devour up by degrees.  
For Houses and Churches  
Were to him Gorse and Buirches:  
He eat all, and left none behind,  
But some Stones, dear Jack,  
Which he could not crack,  
Which on the Hills you will find.   

5.  
In Yorkshire near fair Rotheram,  
The Place I know it well,  
Some two or three Miles, or thereabouts,  
I vow I cannot tell;  
But there is a Hedge,  
Just on the Hill Edge,  
And Mathew's House hard by it:  
Oh there and then,  
Was this Dragon's Den,  
You could not choose but spy it.   

6.  
Some say this Dragon was a Witch;  
Some say he was the Devil,  
For from his Nose, a smoke arose,  
And with it burning Snivil,  
Which he cast off,  
When he did Cough,  
In a Well, that he did stand by,  
Which made it look,  
Just like a Brook,  
Running with burning Brandy.   

7.  
Hard by a furious Knight there dwelled,  
Of whom all Towns did Ring;  
For he could wrestle, play at Quarterstaff,  
Kick, Cuff, Box, Huff,  
Call Son of a Whore:  
Do any kind of thing;  
By the Tail, and the Main,  
With his hands twain,  
He swung a Horse till he was dead,  
And that which was stranger,  
He for very Anger,  
Eat him all up but his Head.   

8.  
These Children as I told being eat,  
Men, Women, Girls, and Boys,  
Sighing and sobbing, came to his Lodging,  
And made a hideous Noise.  
Oh save us all, More of Morehall,  
Thou pearless Knight of these Woods;  
Do but slay this Dragon,  
We won't leave us a Rag on,  
we'll give thee all our Goods.   

9  
Tut, Tut, quoth he, no Goods I want,  
But I want, I want insooth,  
A fair Maid of Sixteen that's brisk,  
And smiles about the Mouth:  
Hair as black as a Slow,  
Both above and below,  
With a Blush her Cheeks adorning;  
To 'noynt me o'er Night,  
 I go to fight,  
And to dress me in the Morning.   

10.  
This being done, he did engage  
To hue this Dragon down;  
But first he went New Armour to  
Bespeak, at Sheffield Town,  
With Spikes all about,  
Not within, but without,  
Of Steel so sharp and strong,  
Both behind and before,  
Arms, Legs, all o'er,  
Some five of six Inches long.   

11.  
Had you but seen him in this Dress,  
How fierce he looked, and big,  
You would have thought him for to be  
An Egyptian Porcu-Pig:  
He frighted all,  
Cars, Dogs, and all;  
Each Cow, each Horse, and each Hog,  
For fear did flee,  
For they took him to be  
Some strange outlandish Hedghogg.   

12.  
To see this Fight, all People there  
Got upon Trees and Houses,  
On Churches some, and Chimneys too;  
But they put on their Trowzes,  
Not to spoil their Hose.  
As soon as he risen,  
To make him strong and mighty,  
He drank by the Tail,  
Six pots of Ale,  
And a Quart of Aquavitae.   

13.  
It is not Strength that always wins,  
For Wit doth Strength excel,  
Which made our cunning Champion  
Creep down into a Well,  
Where he did think  
This Dragon would drink,  
And so he did in Truth;  
And as he stooped low,  
He risen up and cried boe,  
And hit him in the Mouth.   

14.  
Oh, quoth the Dragon, pox take you come out.  
Thou that disturb'st me in my Drink,  
And then he turned and shit at him,  
Good lack how he did stink:  
Beshrew thy Soul,  
Thy Body is foul,  
Thy Dung smells not like Balsam:  
Thou Son of a Whore,  
Thou stinkest so sore,  
Sure thy Diet it is unwholesome.   

15.  
Our Politic Knight, on the other side  
Crept out upon the Brink,  
And gave the Dragon such a dost,  
He knew not what to think:  
By Cock, quoth he,  
Say you so, do you see,  
And then at him he let fly;  
With Hand and with Foot,  
And so they went to't,  
And the Word it was, hay Boys hay.   

16.  
You Word, quoth the Dragon, I don't understand  
Then to't they fell at all,  
Like two Wild Bears, so fierce I may  
Compare great things with small:  
Two Days and a Night,  
With this Dragon did fight,  
Our Champion on the Ground,  
Tho' their Strength it was great,  
Yet their Skill it was neat.  
They never had one Wound,   

17.  
At length the hard Earth began for to quake,  
The Dragon gave him such a knock,  
Which made him to Reel,  
And straight way he thought  
To lift him as high as a Rock;  
And thence let him fall,  
But More of Morehall,  
Like a Valiant Son of Mars;  
As he came like a Lout,  
So he turned him about,  
And hit him a kick on the Arse.   

18.  
Oh, quoth the Dragon, with a Sigh,  
And turned six times together,  
Sobbing, and tearing, cursing and swearing  
Out of his Throat of Leather.  
Oh, thou Rascal,  
More of Morehall,  
Would I had seen you never,  
With the Thing at thy Foot,  
Thou hast pricked my Arse Gut;  
Oh, I am quite undone for ever.   

19  
Murder, Murder, the Dragon cried,  
Alack, alack, for Grief,  
Had you but missed that Place, you could  
Have done me no Mischief;  
Then his Head he shaked,  
Trembled, and Quackt,  
And down he laid, and cried;  
First on one Knee,  
Then on back, tumbled he,  
So groaned, kicked, shit, and died.   
FINIS.   

LONDON, Printed for Randal Taylor, near Stationer's Hall, 1685.