I was scarcely more delighted when I first entered this peaceful demesne, than I now was--such is the instability and inconsistency of human nature!--when I escaped from it to the open downs, which had formerly seemed so waste and dreary, The air I breathed felt purer and more bracing. The clouds, riding high upon a summer breeze, drove, in gay succession, over my head, now obscuring the sun, now letting its rays stream in transient flashes upon various parts of the landscape, and especially upon the broad mirror of the distant Firth of Solway.
I advanced on the scene with the light step of a liberated captive; and, like John Bunyan’s Pilgrim, could have found in my heart to sing as I went on my way. It seemed as if my gaiety had accumulated while suppressed, and that I was, in my present joyous mood, entitled to expend the savings of the previous week. But just as I was about to uplift a merry stave, I heard, to my joyful surprise, the voices of three or more choristers, singing, with considerable success, the lively old catch,
For all our men were very very merry, And all our men were drinking: There were two men of mine, Three men of thine, And three that belonged to old Sir Thom o’ Lyne; As they went to the ferry, they were very very merry, And all our men were drinking.’
[The original of this catch is to be found in Cowley’s witty comedy of THE GUARDIAN, the first edition. It does not exist in the second and revised edition, called THE CUTTER OF COLEMAN STREET.
CAPTAIN BLADE. Ha, ha, boys, another catch. AND ALL OUR MEN ARE VERY VERY MERRY, AND ALL OUR MEN WERE DRINKING. CUTTER. ONE MAN OF MINE. DOGREL. TWO MEN OF MINE. BLADE. THREE MEN OF MINE. CUTTER. AND ONE MAN OF MINE. OMNES. AS WE WENT BY THE WAY WE WERE DRUNK, DRUNK, DAMNABLY DRUNK, AND ALL OUR MEN WERE VERY VERY MERRY, &c.
Such are the words, which are somewhat altered and amplified in the text. The play was acted in presence of Charles II, then Prince of Wales, in 1641. The catch in the text has been happily set to music.]
As the chorus ended, there followed a loud and hearty laugh by way of cheers. Attracted by sounds which were so congenial to my present feelings, I made towards the spot from which they came,--cautiously, however, for the downs, as had been repeatedly hinted to me, had no good name; and the attraction of the music, without rivalling that of the sirens in melody, might have been followed by similarly inconvenient consequences to an incautious amateur.