The Bijou;
or Annual of Literature and the Arts
compiled by William Fraser
London: William Pickering,
1828
pp. pp. 4-10
| Here beginneth a song which made in the Wood of Bel-Regard by a Good Companion, |
| who put himself there to eschew the horrible Creature of Justices Trail-Baston. |
| IN rhyme I clothe derision, my fancy takes thereto | 1 |
| So scorn I this provision, provided here of new; | 2 |
| The thing whereof my geste I frame I wish 'twere yet to do, | 3 |
| An guard not God and Holy Dame, 'tis war that must ensue. | 4 |
| I mean the articles abhorred of this their Trail-baston; | 5 |
| Except the king himself our lord, God send his malison | 6 |
| On the devisers of the same: cursed be they everyone, | 7 |
| For full they be of sinful blame, and reason have they none. | 8 |
[Page 5]
| Sir, if my boy offended me now, and I my hand but lift | 9 |
| To teach him by a cuff or two what's governance and thrift: | 10 |
| This rascal vile his bill doth file, attaches me of wrong; | 11 |
| Forsooth, find bail, or lie in gaol, and rot the rogues among. | 12 |
| 'Tis forty pennies that they ask, a ransom fine for me; | 13 |
| And twenty more ('tis but a score) for my Lord Sheriff's fee: | 14 |
| Else of his deepest dungeon the darkness I must dree; | 15 |
| Is this of justice, masters?— Behold my case and see. | 16 |
| Away, then, to the greenwood! to the pleasant shade away! | 17 |
| There evil none of law doth wonne, nor harmful perjury. | 18 |
| I'll to the wood of Bel-regard, where freely flies the jay, | 19 |
| And without fail the nightingale is chaunting of her lay. | 20 |
| But for that cursed dozen,God [sic] shew them small pitie! | 21 |
| Among their lying voices, they have indicted me | 22 |
| Of wicked thefts and robberies and other felonie, | 23 |
| That I dare no more, as heretofore, among my friends to be. | 24 |
[Page 6]
| In peace and war my service my lord the king hath ta'en, | 25 |
| In Flanders, and in Scotland, and in Gascoyne his domain; | 26 |
| But now I'll never, while I wis, be mounted man again, | 27 |
| To pleasure such a man as this I've spent much time in vain. | 28 |
| But if these cursed jurors do not amend them so | 29 |
| That I to my own country may freely ride and go, | 30 |
| The head that I can come at shall jump when I've my blow; | 31 |
| Their menacings, and all such things, them to the winds I throw. | 32 |
| The Martin and the Neville are worthy folk indeed; | 33 |
| Their prayers are sure, albeit we're poor— salvation be their meed! | 34 |
| But for Belflour and Spigurnel, they are a cruel seed; | 35 |
| God send them in my keeping— ha! They should not soon be freed! | 36 |
| I'd teach them well this noble game of Trail-baston to know; | 37 |
| On every chine I'd stamp the same, and every nape also; | 38 |
| O'er every inch in all their frame I'd make my cudgel go; | 39 |
| To lop their tongues I'd think no shame, nor yet their lips to sew. | 40 |
| The man that did begin it first, without redemption | 41 |
| He is for evermore accurst— he never can atone: | 42 |
| Great sin is his, I tell ye true, for many an honest man | 43 |
| For fear hath joined the outlaw's crew, since these new laws began. | 44 |
| There's many a wildwood thief this hour was peaceful man whil'ere, | 45 |
| The fear of prison hath such power even guiltless breast to scare: | 46 |
| 'Tis this which maketh many a one to sleep beneath the tree; | 47 |
| And he that these new laws begun, the curse of God take he! | 48 |
| Ye merchants and ye wandering freres, ye may well curse with me, | 49 |
| For ye are painful travellers, while laws like this shall be; | 50 |
| The king's broad letter in your hand but little can bestead, | 51 |
| For he perforce must bid men stand, that hath nor home nor bread. | 52 |
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| All ye who are indicted! I pray you come to me | 53 |
| To the greenwood, the pleasant wood, where's niether suit nor plea, | 54 |
| But only the wild creatures and many a spreading tree | 55 |
| For there's little in common law but doubt and misery. | 56 |
| If at your need you've skill to read, you're summon'd ne'er the less | 57 |
| To shew your lore the Bench before, and great is your redress; | 58 |
| Clerk the most clerkly though you be, expect the same penance: | 59 |
| 'Tis true a Bishop turns the key: God grant deliverance. | 60 |
| In honesty I speak—for me, I'd rather sleep beneath | 61 |
| The canopy of the green tree, yea, on the naked heath, | 62 |
| Than lie even in a Bishop's vault for many a weary day; | 63 |
| And he that 'twixt such choice would halt, he is a fool I say. | 64 |
| I had a name that none could blame, but that is lost and gone, | 65 |
| For lawyer-tricks have made me mix with people that have none. | 66 |
| I dare not shew my face no mo among my friends and kin: | 67 |
| The poor man now is sold I trow, whate'er the rich, may win. | 68 |
| To risk I cannot fancy much, what, lost, is ne'er repaid | 69 |
| To put my life within their clutch in truth I'm sore afraid; | 70 |
| This is no question about gold that might be won again, | 71 |
| If once they had me in their hold 'tis death they'd make my pain. | 72 |
| Some one perchance my friend will be, such hope not yet I lack; | 73 |
| The men that speak this ill of me, they speak behind my back; | 74 |
| I know it would their hearts delight, if they my blood could spill, | 75 |
| But God, in all the devil's spite, can save me if he will. | 76 |
| There's one can save me life and limb, the blessed Mary's child, | 77 |
| And I can broadly pray to him; my soul is undefiled: | 78 |
| The innocent he'll not despise, by envious tongues undone. | 79 |
| God curse the smiling enemies that I have leaned upon! | 80 |
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| If meeting a companion I shew my archerie, | 81 |
| My neighbour will be saying, "He's of some companie, | 82 |
| He goes to cage him in the wood, and worke his old foleye," | 83 |
| Thus men do hunt me like the boar, and life's no life for me. | 84 |
| But if I seem more cunning about the law than they, | 85 |
| "Ha! ha! Some old conspirator well trained in tricks," they'll say; | 86 |
| O wheresoe'er doth ride the Eyre, I must keep well away:— | 87 |
| Such neighbourhood I hold not good; shame fall on such I pray. | 88 |
| I pray you, all good people, to say for me a prayer, | 89 |
| That I in peace may once again to mine own land repair: | 90 |
| I never was a homicide—not within my will—I swear, | 91 |
| Nor robber, christian folk to spoil, that on their way did fare. | 92 |
| This rhyme was made within the wood, beneath a broad bay tree; | 93 |
| There singeth merle and nightingale, and falcon hovers free: | 94 |
| I wrote this skin, because within was much more sore memory, | 95 |
| And here I lay it by the way—that found my rhyme may be. | 96 |