Here stands my Bottle, here my Bag, If thou canst win them Roister; Against the Sword and Buckler here, My Sheep-hook is my Master.
_Benedicit_ now, quoth our good King, It never shall be said; That _Alfred_ of the Shepherd's Hook, Will stand a whit afraid.
So soundly thus they both fell to't, And giving Bang for Bang; At every Blow the Shepherd gave, King _Alfred's_ Sword cry'd twang.
His Buckler prov'd his chiefest Fence, For still the Shepherd's Hook; Was that the which King _Alfred_ could, In no good manner brook.
At last when they had fought four Hours, And it grew just Mid-day; And wearied both, with right good Will, Desir'd each others stay.
King, Truce I cry, quoth _Alfred_ then, Good Shepherd hold thy Hand: A sturdier Fellow than thy self, Lives not within this Land.
Nor a lustier Roister than thou art, The churlish Shepherd said, To tell thee plain, thy Thievish looks, Now makes my Heart afraid.
Else sure thou art some Prodigal, Which hast consum'd thy store; And now com'st wand'ring in this place, To rob and steal for more.
Deem not of me, then quoth our King, Good Shepherd in this sort; A Gentleman well known I am, In good King _Alfred's_ Court.
The Devil thou art, the Shepherd said, Thou goest in Rags all torn; Thou rather seem'st, I think to be, Some Beggar basely born.
But if thou wilt mend thy Estate, And here a Shepherd be; At Night to _Gillian_ my sweet Wife, Thou shalt go home with me.
For she's as good a Toothless Dame, As mumbleth on Brown Bread; Where thou shalt lie on hurden Sheets, Upon a fresh Straw Bed.
Of Whig and Whey, we have good store, And keep good Pease-straw Fires; And now and then good Barly Cakes, As better Days requires.
But for my Master which is Chief, And Lord of _Newton_ Court; He keeps I say, his Shepherds Swains, In far more braver sort.
We there have Curds, and clouted Cream, Of Red Cows morning Milk; And now and then fine Buttered Cakes, As soft as any Silk.
Of Beef and reised Bacon store, That is most Fat and Greasy; We have likewise to feast our Chaps, And make them glib and easie.
Thus if thou wilt my Man become, This usage thou shalt have; If not, adieu, go hang thy self, And so farewel Sir Knave.
King _Alfred_ hearing of this Glee, The churlish Shepherd said; Was well content to be his Man, So they a Bargain made.