The King and the Tinker.
AN OLD BALLAD.

AND now, to be brief, let's pafs over the reft,
Who feldom or never were given to jeft,
And come to King James the Firft on the throne;
A pleafanter monarch fure never was known.
Derry down, &c.

Once, as he was chafing his fair fallow-deer,
He dropp'd all his nobles, of them he got clear;
In fearch of new pleafures away he did ride,
Till he came to an ale-houfe juft by the wood-fide;

And there with a Tinker he happen'd to meet,
Whom in this kind manner did lovingly greet;
He faid, honeft fellow, what is in thy jug,
Which under thy arm thou doft lovingly hug ?

In truth, faid the Tinker, 'tis nappy brown ale,
And for to drink to thee I never will fail;
Altho' that thy jacket is glorious and fine,
I hope that my two-pence is as good as thine.

Nay, now by my foul, the truth fhall be spoke,
The King he fat down with the Tinker to joke;
He call'd for one pitcher, the Tinker another,
And fo at it they went like brother and brother.

While drinking, the King he was pleafed to tay,
What news doft thou hear, honeft Tinker. I pray ?
There's nothing of news, which now I do hear,
But the King is a chafing his fair fallow-deer.

And truly I wifh I fo happy might be,
That, while he is hunting, the King I may fee;
Altho' I have travell'd the land many ways,
I ne'er faw the King in all my whole days.

The King, in a hearty brifk laughter, reply'd,
I tell thee good fellow, if thou cant but ride;
Thou fhalt get behind me, and thee I will bring,
In the royal prefence of James our King.

Perhaps, quoth the Tinker, his lords will be dreft
So fine, that I cannot tell him from the reft;
They will; but I tell you, when once we come there,
The King will be cover'd, his nobles all bare.

Then up got the Tinker, and hoifted the black
Budget of leather, and tools, on his back;
And when they came to the merry green wood,
His nobles came round him, & bare-headed flood.

The Tinker then feeling fo many appear,
Immediately whifper'd the King in the ear,
Saying. Since they're all cloathed fo gallant & gay,
Sir, which is the King ? now tell me, I pray.

The King to the Tinker he made this reply,
By my foul, man, it muft either be you or I;
We are both cover'd, they uncover'd all round,
This faid, with his budget he fell to the ground,
Like one that was frighten'd quite out of his wits,
And then on his knees he immediately gets;
Befeeching his mercy,—The King to him faid,
Thou art a good fellow, fo be not afraid.

Now tell me thy name.—It is John of the Vale,
A mender of kettles, and lover of ale;
Then rife up, Sir John, I'll honour you here,
I make you a knight of three-hundred a year.

This was a good thing for the Tinker indeed,
Then foon to the court he was fent for with fpeed;
Where was ſtore of pleafure and paſttime there ſeen,
In the royal prefence of our King and Queen.