Dead and Alive.
This Ditty out of Glocestershire was sent
To London, for to have it put in print,
Therefore draw neer and listen unto this,
It doth concern a man that did amiss,
And so to shun the anger of his wife,
He thought with poyson for to end his life
But in the stead of poyson he drunk Sack,
For which his wife did soundly pay his back
To the Tune of, Old flesh.
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THere was a shaving Royster
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as I heard many tell,
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In Michael Deans fair Forrest
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in Glostershire did dwell,
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Some calld him William Wiseman
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but in that they were to blame.
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Some calld him Leonard Lack-wit
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but that was not his name,
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His name was Simple Simon,
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as it is well approvd,
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and amongst his friends & kinsfolks
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he dearly was belovd,
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He capored and vapored,
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and livd a merry life.
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But yet good man at all times
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he could not rule his wife.
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His wife she was a woman
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that loved a cup of Sack
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And she would tipple soundly
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behind her husbands back,
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A bottle she had gotten that
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would hold two quarts or more,
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Well filld with wine, she hangd it
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behind her Chamber door,
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And she told unto her husband,
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that it was poyson strong,
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And bade him not to touch it
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for fear of doing wrong,
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If thou drink but one drop ont,
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quoth she, twill cost thy life,
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Therefore in time take heed,
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and be ruled by thy wife.
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This Simons wife had plenty
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of fatting Hogs and Pigs,
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With Geese, Ducks, Hens, & Tur-kies
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that laid great store of eggs
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Both Sheep and such like Cattel
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fine Ews, and pretty Lambs,
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Which up and down the Forrest
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did feed, and suck their Dams,
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She put trust to her husband,
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to look unto them all,
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To keep them safe from danger,
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now mark what did befall,
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He did his best indeavour
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to shun all kind of strife,
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And yet through st[r]ange misfortune
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he could not please his wife.
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One morning she sent him
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to field to keep her sheep,
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And chargd him to be watchful,
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and take heed he did not sleep,
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A piece of bread and butter
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she gave him in his hand,
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Whereby she made him promise
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to do as she did command,
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But see what happened to him,
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when he came to the field.
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He fell asleep while Foxes
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three of his Lambs had killd,
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This bred a great dissention,
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and raised a world of strife,
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Till Simon for his fault
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had begd pardon of his wife.
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The second part to the same Tune.
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ANother day she sent him
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her Ducks and Geese to tend
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And charged him on her blessing
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he should no more offend,
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Her Goslings and her Chickens
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with him she put in trust,
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Who took a stick and told them,
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so they were twenty just,
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But a woful chance befell to
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poor Simon before night,
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For seven of his best Chickens,
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were took prisoners by the Kite,
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This vext him, and it made him
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half weary of his life,
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For he knew not what answer
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to make unto his wife.
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Next morning when that Simon
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was sent to milk the Cow,
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Another strange mis-hap there
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was done him by the Sow,
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For whilst that he was driving
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the little Pigs away,
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The Sow came into the dary-house
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and swigd up all the whey,
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The Cheese out of the Cheese-fat
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she did both tear and hail,
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And so threw down the Cream-pot
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and made an end of all,
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Whereby she burst her belly,
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and so she lost her life,
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And poor Simon knew not what an-swer
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to make unto his wife.
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whens wife came in the daryhouse
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and saw what there was done
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A strong and fierce encounter
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she presently begun.
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She pulld him by the ears,
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and she wrung him by the nose,
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And she kickt him on the belly,
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while the tears run down his hose.
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And she vowed to be revenged
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before to morrow day
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For all her brood of Chickens
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which the Kite had carried away
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Poor Simon stood amazed
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being weary of his life,
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For he good man was tired
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with his unruly wife.
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For when that he perceived
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his wife in such a rage
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Not knowing how nor which way
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her fury to asswage,
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He cunningly got from her,
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and to the Chamber went.
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Thinking himself to poyson,
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for that was his intent,
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So comming to the Bottle
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which I spake of before,
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He thought it to be poyson
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which hung behind the door.
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He vowd to drink it all up
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and end his wretched life
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Rather than live in thraldome,
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with such a cursed wife.
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So opening of a window which
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stood towards the South
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He took the Bottle of Sack
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and set it to his mouth,
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Now will I drink this poyson
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quoth he with all my heart,
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So that the first draught he drank ont
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he swallowd near a quart.
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The second time that he set
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the bottle to his snout,
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He never left off swigging
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till he had suckt all out,
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Which done he fel down backward
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like one bereft of life,
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Crying out, I now am poysoned
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by means of my curst wife.
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Quoth he, I feel the poyson
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now run through every vain,
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It rumbles in my belly,
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and it tickles in my brain,
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It wambles in my stomack,
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and it malifies my heart
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It pierceth through my members,
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and yet I feel no smart,
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Would all that have curst wives,
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would example take hereby,
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For I die as sweet a death sure,
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as ever man did dye,
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Tis better with such poyson
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to end a wretched life,
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Than to live and be tormented
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with such a wicked wife.
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Now see what followed after,
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his wife by chance did walk,
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And comming by the window,
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she heard her Simon talk
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And thinking on her bottle,
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she up the stairs did run,
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And came into the Chamber
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to see what he had done.
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When as she saw her husband
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lying drunk upon his back
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And the bottle lying by him
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but never a drop of Sack
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I am poysoned I am poysoned
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quoth he long of my wife
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I hope I shall be at quiet,
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now I have lost my life.
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Pox take you are you poysoned
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quoth she I now will strive
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And do my best indeavour
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to make you run alive
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With that a quill of powder
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she blew up in his nose
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Then like a man turnd frantick
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he presently arose
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So down the stairs he run straight
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into the open street
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With hooping and with hallowing
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to all that he did meet.
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And with a loud voice cryed out
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I am raised from death to life
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By vertue of a powder that
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was given me by my wife.
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Some folks that did behold him
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were in a grievous fear
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For seeing of a mad man
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they durst not come him near
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He leaped and he skipped
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thorow fair and thorow foul
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Whilst the people gazd upon him
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like Pyes upon an Owl
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His wife she followed after
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thorow thick and thorow thin
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And with a basting cudgel
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she soundly badgd his skin
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And thus poor Simon cryed out,
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I am raised from death to life,
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By vertue of a powder [t]hat
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was given me by my w[i]fe.
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At last a friend of Simons
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which was to him some kin
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By fair and kind perswasions
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opend door and let him in
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He sent for Simons wife, and
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so made them both good friends,
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Who kindly kist each other,
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and so all discord ends.
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The neighbours all rejoiced
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to see them thus agreed
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And like a loving couple
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to bed they went with speed.
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No doubt but simple Simon
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that night well pleased his wife
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For ever since that time, he
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hath lived a quiet life.
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