From being taken in disguise,
From believing of a poet's lies,
And from the devil and the excise,
5Libera nos.
From brown bread and small beer,
From being taken stealing deer,
From all that hath been named here,
5Quesemus te.
The litany being ended the tapster comes for his reckoning, but poor Robin made answer that he should do as the rest had done, either tell a tale or sing a song. Says he, "Sing I cannot, but I will tell you how they marry in Scotland, as a Scotch priest told me that lay here, and got me to engage for him to my master for twenty shillings, and he running away, I was forced to pay his score for him."
Chapter XV.
A Scotch Marriage.
We don't use to wad in Scotland as you wad in England. Jockey comes to the kirk and takes Sir Donkyn by the rocket, and says, "Good morn, Sir Donkyn." "What's the matter, Jockey, what's the matter?" "A wadding, a wadding," says he, "don't you see the hoppers and the skippers, and all the lads of the gang?" "I'se don't, I'se come to you belyve." Then Sir Donkyn gangs to the kirk, "I spee and I spee, wha a deil do you spee; Jockey of the high lane, and Jenny of the long cliff; if any know why these twa may not be wadded together, let them now speak or hold their tongue in the deil's name. Jockey wilt thou ha'e Jenny to thy wadded wife? I say, Jockey, say after me, Jockey wilt thou ha'e Jenny to thy wadded wife, forsaking all loons, lubberloons, swing-bellied calves, black lips, and blue noses? Ay, forsooth. If these twa be not as well wadded as e'er I wadded twa these seven years, the deil and St. Andrew part them."
The wedding being ended, all the company went to bed, where we will leave them till the next morning, to relate poor Robin's perambulation about the city.
Chapter XVI.
Poor Robin's perambulation about the City.
No sooner did Apollo begin to appear in the eastern horizon, but poor Robin, shaking off melancholy sleep, roused his companion to prepare himself for their intended perambulation; and having armed themselves with a pot of nappy ale, they took their first walk to see the Royal Exchange, a most magnificent structure, built by Sir Thomas Gresham. From thence they went to take a view of Leadenhall, but the exceeding bravery of the Exchange had so dimmed the beauty of the place, that it was nothing pleasing to poor Robin's eye. He made no tarrying there, but went presently down to the Tower, where having seen the lions, and from the wharf taken a superficial view of the bridge, as also the ships upon the river Thames, he became weary of beholding so many surprising objects. He had, however, far more content in seeing the ships, so admirably pleasing to his fancy it was to see how these little pretty things hopped about. But lest he should take a surfeit with such ravishing delights, his friend persuaded him to go to see the ancient cathedral of St. Paul's, being at present made a horse-guard by the soldiers, which poor Robin beholding, "What a blessed reformation," quoth he, "have we here! For in our country we can scarce persuade men to go to church, but here come men and horses too." Having satisfied himself with the sight of St. Paul's, they would in the next place go to visit Westminster, the rather because it was at term time, where, beholding so great a number of lawyers in their gowns, he cried out, "Oh, let us begone from this place, for if two or three make such a quarrel in our town, certainly there is no abiding here for men in their wit." A country gentleman overhearing him, "I remember," quoth he, "once I heard a story of a man that went down to hell, wherein he beheld men of all professions, ages, and conditions, saving only lawyers, which made him the more to wonder, because he imagined them all there, and asking the devil the reason, he made this reply, 'We have them here though you see them not, but we are forced to keep them in a room by themselves lest they should set all the devils in hell at variance.'" Poor Robin laughed very heartily at this tale, and having now satisfied his inn, and having discharged all reckonings, his friend and he returned home.