“Tent, Muskatine, Brandy and Alicant Of all these liquors I’ve had no scant, And several others; but none do I find, Like humming Northern Ale to pleas my mind, It’s pleasant to the taste, strong and mellow, He that affects it not, is no boon fellow.
“It warms in winter, in summer opes the pores, ’Twill make a Sovereign Salve ’gainst cuts and sores; It ripens wit, exhillerates the mind, Makes friends of foes, and foes of friends full kind; It’s physical for old men, warms their blood, Its spirits makes the Coward’s courage good: The tatter’d Beggar being warmed with Ale, Nor rain, hail, frost, nor snow can him assail, He’s a good man with him can then compare, It makes a Prentise great as the Lord Mayor; The Labouring man, that toiles all day full sore, A pot of ale at night, doth him restore, {314} And makes him all his toil and paines forget, And for another day’s work, hee’s then fit.
“Oh the rare virtues of this Barly Broth; To rich and poor it’s Meat Drink and Cloth.” The Court here stopt him, and the Prince did say, “Where can we find this Nectar, I thee pray,” The boon good fellow answered, “I can tell, North Allerton in Yorkshire doth excell All England, nay all Europe for strong Ale, If thither we adjourn we shall not fail To taste such humming stuff, as, I dare say, Your Highness never tasted to this day.”
Bacchus’ Court then adjourns to North Allerton, and imbibes the noble ale kept at Madame Bradley’s, with this result:—
For arguments some were and learned discourses, Som talk’d of greyhounds, som of running horses, Som talk’d of hounds, and some of Cock o’ th game, Som nought but hawks, and setting dogs did name, Som talk’d of Battels, Sieges and great wars, And what great Wounds and cutts they had and scars,
Some there were all for drinking healths about, Others did rub the table with their Snout