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Under ground is a place, where they bathe, as 'tis
said, And 'tis true, for I heard folks' teeth hack in their
For you are to know, that the rogues and the
whores Are not let to pollute the spring-head with their
But one thing I chiefly admir'd in the place,
choose, Till a pair of black eyes, darting full in my sight, From the rest o'th' fair maidens did carry me
quite; I took the glass from her, and, whip, off it went, I half doubt I fancy'd a health to the saint: But he was a great villain committed the slaughter, For St. Winifred made most delicate water. I slipp'd a hard shilling into her soft hand, Which had like to have made me the place have
And giving two more to the poor that were there, Did, sharp as a hawk, to my quarters repair.
My dinner was ready, and to it I fell, I never ate better meat, that I can tell; When having half din'd, there comes in my host, A catholic good, and a rare drunken toast : This man, by his drinking, inflamed the Scot, And told me strange stories, which I have forgot ; But this I remember, 'twas much on's own life, And one thing, that he had converted his wife.
But now my guide told me, it time was to go, For that to our beds we must both ride and row; Wherefore calling to pay, and having accounted, I soon was down stairs, and as suddenly mounted: On then we travell’d, our guide still before, Sometimes on three legs, and sometimes on four, Coasting the sea, and over hills crawling, Sometimes on all four, for fear we should fall in ; For underneath Neptune lay skulking to watch us, And, had we but slipp'd once, was ready to catch us. Thus in places of danger taking more heed, And in safer travelling mending our speed: Redland Castle and Abergoney we past, And o'er against Connaway came at the last : Just over against a castle there stood, O’ th' right hand the town, and oth left hand a
wood; ”Twixt the wood and the castle they see at high
water The storm, the place makes it a dangerous matter; And besides, upon such a steep rock it is founded, As would break a man's neck, should he 'scape be
ing drowned :
Perhaps tho' in time one may make them to yield, But 'tis pretti'st Cob-castle e'er I beheld.
The Sun now was going tunharness his steeds, When the ferry-boat brasking her sides 'gainst the
weeds, Came in as good time, as good time could be, To give us a cast o'er an arm of the sea; And bestowing our horses before and abaft, O’er god Neptune's wide cod-piece gave us a waft; Where scurvily landing at foot of the fort, Within very few paces we enter'd the port, Where another King's Head invited me down, For indeed I have ever been true to the crown.