RALPH and NELLs
Ramble to OXFORD.
|
I Heard much talk of Oxford town.
|
And fain I would go thither,
|
When plowing and sowing time was done,
|
It being gallant weather.
|
Vather did to it agree,
|
That Nell and I should go;
|
But mother cry'd, That we should ride,
|
So we had Dobbin too.
|
Zo I goes unto zister Nell,
|
And bids her to make ready,
|
And put on her Zunday close,
|
As vine as any lady;
|
'Tis a gallant day, the morning's grey,
|
And likely to be fair;
|
Therefore make haste, and soon be lac'd,
|
And I'll go bait the mare.
|
So up upon the mare we got,
|
And away we rid together;
|
And everybody that we met,
|
We ask'd how far 'twas thither.
|
'Till at the last, when on the top
|
Of Chisledon we did rise,
|
I somewhat 'spy'd like steeples and cry'd,
|
Zooks, Nell, look yonder it is.
|
But when as nearer to't we came,
|
We zee volks infant thick;
|
I heard a little bastard zay,
|
Look here comes country Dick.
|
Another bastard call'd me Ralph,
|
And how is't honest Joan?
|
Nay Roger too, and little Sue,
|
And all the folks at home.
|
Zo we rode on and nothing said,
|
But looked for an alehouse;
|
At last we zee a hugeous sign,
|
As big as any gallows.
|
It was Two Dogs, so in we rode,
|
And called for the hostler;
|
Out came a lusty fellow then,
|
I wa'nt he was a wrestler.
|
Here take my horse, and set'en up,
|
And gi'en a lock of hay;
|
For we are come to zee the town.
|
And tarry here all day.
|
Yes, Sir, said he, and call'd the maid,
|
That stood within the entry;
|
She had us into a room as clean,
|
As tho' we had been gentry.
|
Zo we zet down, and bid them fetch
|
A flaggon of their beer;
|
But when it come, Nell shook her head,
|
And zed, 'Twas plaguy dear.
|
Zays she to me, if we stay here long,
|
soon make us go a begging,
|
For I am zure it cannot be
|
Zo much as old Martin's flaggon.
|
Zo we got up, and away we went,
|
To zee the gallant town,
|
And at the gate we met a man
|
With a pitiful ragged gown:
|
As for his sleeves, I do believe,
|
That they were both torn off,
|
And instead of a hat he wore a cap,
|
a trencher cover'd with cloth.
|
And as we were going along the town,
|
I thought I had found a knife,
|
I stooped down to pick it up,
|
But was ne'er so sham'd in my life;
|
For the underside was all beshit,
|
With an arrant Christian's turd;
|
The boys fell a hollowing an, April Fool!
|
But I zed ne'er a word.
|
As we went thro' a narrow lane,
|
One catch'd vast hold of zister,
|
He'd parson's close, and he did'nt know us,
|
But fain he would have kist her;
|
He was so plaguy vine, but to my mind,
|
He look'd much like a wencher;
|
I up wi' my stick, and gi'en a lick,
|
I believe it split his trencher.
|
Then we went into a very vine place,
|
And there we went to church;
|
I kneeled down to say my prayers,
|
And did not think any hurt:
|
In the middle of the prayers, just upstairs,
|
Was bagpipes to my thinking;
|
And the folks below fell a singing too,
|
As tho' they had been drinking.
|
I did not like the doings there,
|
And zo I took my hat;
|
I did'nt think they zo had done,
|
In such a place as that.
|
But Nell was for staying till they had done playing,
|
Because she lik'd the tunes,
|
For she was zure she ne'er did hear
|
Old Crundall play such at home.
|
Then we went into a vine garden,
|
All upon a hill;
|
And just below a dial did go,
|
Much like a waggon wheel;
|
But bigger by half, which made me laugh,
|
like a garden knot;
|
When the zun shine bright, it went as right
|
As our parson's clock.
|
Then we went out of this vine place,
|
And went unto another;
|
Which was vorty times as vine
|
As any of the other:
|
Bless me! our John quite all along
|
There's books pil'd up like mows:
|
Vaith Nell, I wish that my mother was here,
|
If it was not vor the cows.
|
And in the middle stood two things,
|
As round as any ball;
|
They told us 'twas the p[i]cture of
|
The world, the zee, and all.
|
And those who knew how to turn them right
|
And how to turn them round,
|
Could tell us what o'clock it was
|
In the world underground.
|
And many more things they could tell
|
That was as most as strange;
|
And when the zun should set and rise,
|
And when the moon should change,
|
I did not care to stand so near,
|
When all those things I heard,
|
For I thought in my heart it was the black art
|
And I was a little afraid.
|
The zun being low then we begun
|
To think of going home;
|
But one thing more we saw before
|
We got quite out of town.
|
We went apace, for being in haste,
|
For fear of being benighted;
|
Two hugeous men stood strutting within,
|
And Nell and I was frighted.
|
Nell had a colour as red as a rose,
|
And durst not go any furder,
|
They had bloody weapons in their hands,
|
And stood ready there for murder.
|
So we went back and got the mare,
|
And away came trotting home,
|
With stories enough to tell vather and mother,
|
And little zister Joan.
|
|
|
|
|
|