At this the cobbler bolder grew,
And stoutly thus reply’d,—
If you’re so good at drubbing, Sir,
Your manhood shall be try’d.
What I have said I will maintain,
And further prove withal—
I daily do more good than you
In my respective call.
I know your character, quoth he,
You proud insulting vicar,
Who only huff and domineer
And quarrel in your liquor.
The honest gentleman, who saw
’Twould come again to blows,
Commands the cobbler to forbear,
And to the vicar goes.
Vicar, says he, for shame give o’er
And mitigate your rage;
You scandalize your cloth too much
A cobbler to engage.
All people’s eyes are on your tribe,
And every little ill
They multiply and aggravate
And will because they will.
But now let’s call another cause,
So let this health go round;
Be peace and plenty, truth and right,
In good old England found.
Quoth Ralph, All this is empty talk
And only tends to laughter;
If these two varlets should be spared,
Who’d pity us hereafter?
Your worship may do what you please,
But I’ll have satisfaction
For drubbing and for damages
In this ungodly action.
I think that you can do no less
Than send them to the stocks;
And I’ll assist the constable
In fixing in their hocks.