FRIAR

Guenthian as I am true man, So will I do the best I can: Guenthian as I am true Priest, So will I be at thy behest: Guenthian as I am true Friar, So will I be at thy desire. Here swear I by my shaven crown, Wench if I give thee a gay green gown, I'll take thee up as I laid thee down, And never bruise nor batter thee. Then my Guenthian to begin, Sith idleness in love is sin, Boy to the town I will thee High, And so return even by and by, When thou with cakes and muscadine, And other unkets good and fine, Hast filled thy bottle and thy bag. Wench to pass away the time in glee, Guenthian set thee down by me, And let our lips and voices meet, In a merry country song. E cum spiritum tuo. Friends have you any thing else to say to the Friar? And you sir when ye eat: Would y nigh thing else to say to the Friar? y be S I count it physic, To feed but on one dish at a sitting: Sir would you any thing else with the Friar? Nay and that be the matter good enough, Is this all ye have to say to the Friar? My masters and friends, I am a poor Friar, a man of Gods making, and a good fellow as you are, legs, feet, face and hands, & heart from top to toe, of my word, ght shape and Christendom: and I love a wench as a wench should be loved, and if you love your self walk good friends I pray you, & let the Friar alone with his flesh. Brother, brother, and my good Countrymen. Then brother and my good friends, Hands off and if you love your ease. Fellow be gone quickly, or my pike staff and I will set thee away with a vengeance. My Countrymen? nay marry sir shall you not be my countrymen, you sir, you, specially you sir that refuse the Friar, and renounce his country. Of honesty sayest thou? They are neither Gentlemen nor Welshmen, That will deny their country: Come hither wench, I'll have about with them once more, For denying of their Country. As much as you will with me sir, But not at any hand with my wench, I and Richard my man here. For here, Contra omnes gentes. But is this Lluellen the great Camber Britain? 'Tis pity my Lord, But you should have more of this learning You profit so well by it. And Richard my man sir and you love me, He that stands by me, and shrunk not at all weathers, And then you have me in my colours. Knowledge my son, knowledge I warranty, How sayest thou Morgaine, art thou not a very prophet? This my Lord a means by you, Oh he is a prophet, a prophet. My Lord he comes to your time thats flat. As how Jack? By lady my Lord you go near the matter, But what says Morgaine Pigote more? Farewell, be far from the Spigote, Come boy we must buckle I see, The prince is of my profession right: Rather than he will loose his wench, He will fight Ab ovo usque and mala. Hark you sir, I am afeard you will not be so re solved, by that time you know so much as I can show you, here be hight Dogs I can tell you, means to have the baiting of you. Saw haw, mai er; I have found, I have found. Oh Cupido quantus quantus. Oh Lord, I Sir full gladly. Hands off good countryman, at few words & fair You Dogs ounes, do me a shroud turn and mock me too, flesh and blood will not bear this: then rise up Rob and say to Richard, Red rationem villicationistuae. sir Countryman, kinsman, Englishman, Welshman, you with the Wench, return your Habeas corpus, heres a Circiorari for your Procedendo. What have we a fellow dropped out of the element, Whats he for a man? What? not Morgain Pigot, our good welsh prophet, Oh 'tis a holy Harper. I think so lack for he that sees three halfpence, must tarry till the butter be melted in the sun, and so forth apply boy Oh how I love thee Morgain Pigot our sweet prophet. Now Manmocke deny I hold thee a penny, Thou shalt have neither sheep nor goat: But Friar David, Will fleeces his coat, Where ever lack my Novice jet. All is fish with that comes to net, David this year thou payest no de to. I for sooth master. Never made man of a woman born, A Bullocks tail a blowing horn, Nor can and Asles hide disguise, A Lion if he ramp and rise. Oh masters, whither shall we, does any living creature know? Nell adieu we go for news, A little serves the Friar's lust, When nolens volens fast I must, Master at all that you refuse. What can the Friar do or sal To pass the weary time away: More dare I do then he dare say, Because he doubts to have away. Mistress shall I tell you true, I have a soug I learned it long ago, I wot not whither yole Like it well or ill, 'Tis short and sweet but somewhat brolde before. Once let me sing it and I ask no more. Why mistress shall I sing my creed, Oh mistress out it goes. Look what comes next the Friar throes. How now the devil in steed of a ditty. Friend Copes mate, you that come late from the City, To ask some pity of this lass so pretty, In likeness of a doleful ditty, Hang me if I do not pay ye. You talk, you talk child. Mines for mine own turn his Tools, rise and lets to it, b you love me, I scorn the odds I can tell you, ee fair play and you be Gentlemen. Oh mistress mistress flesh is frail, Beware when the sign is in the tail, Mig is love and does prevail: Strike Potter be thou lief or loath, And if yowl not strike isle strike for both. Oh master, quae nagata sunt Great sunt. A Potter Potter the Friar may rue, That ever this day this our quarrel he knew: My pate addle, mine arms black and blue. And I think the Potter is handsomely cold, Did ever man play with such uncircumcised hands, since ace to eleven and loose the chance. Sounds you offer me injury Sir to speak in my cast. A las Sir I am not lunatic, 'tis not so well, for I have lost my money which is far worse, I have lost five gold Nobles to S Francis, and if I knew where to meet with his receiver I would pay him presently. Are you S. Francis receiver, Jesus, Jesus, are you S. Francis receiver, and how does all? Good Lord Sir I beseech you carry him these five Noble, and tell him I deal honestly with him as if he were here present. Farewell S. Francis receiver even heartily, well now the Friar is out or cash sive Nobles, God knows how he shall come into cash again, but I must to it a gain, theres nine for your holiness and six for me. Good master and if you love the Friar, give aim a while I you desire: and as you Like of my devise, so love him that hol es the dise. Go worser lord are you here sweet S. Francis recea ver, how does his holiness and all his good family? You know the dice are not partial and Saint Francis were ten S. they will favour him no more the ̄ they would favour the Devil if he play at dice, in very truth my friend they have favoured the Friar, and I have wone a C. marks of S. Francis, come Sir I pray. draw it over I know sirrah e is a good man and n ver deceives none. Why in nume atis pecuniis legem pone, pay me my winnings. Why art not thou sirrah Saint Francis receive ? Then e make you pay for S. Francis thats flat. Masters I bese you leave this braw king and give me leave to speak, so it is I went to dice with S. Francis & lost five Nobles, by good fortune his Cashier came by received it of me in ready cash. I being for des ous to try my fortune f er, played sti l, and as the dice not being bound to him or any and, favoured me, I drew a hand and won a hundred marks, now I reser it to your judgements whither the Friar is to seek is winnings. And shall my Lord. Our thrice renowned Llum ellen Prince of Wales and Robin Hood of the great mon taine, does will and command all passengers at the sighed of Richard servant unto me Friar Tuck to lay down their weapons, and quietly to yield for cum m towards the maintenance of his highness wars, the see of all such gold, silver, money, and money worth, a the said messenger hath then about him, but if he conc all any partly or parcel of the same, then shall he forfai e all that he possesses at that present, and this sentence is ir revocable confirmed by our Lord Lluellen Prince of Wales, and Robin Hood of the great more ntaines. Come my gentle Richard my true master servant that in some storms have stood my master, hang thee I pray thee least I hang for thee, and down on thy ma ry bones Like a foolish fellow, that have gone far astray and ask forgiveness of God and king Edward for play king the rachell and the Rebel here in Wales, ah gentle Richard many a hot breakfast have we been at to gether, & now since, Like one of Mars his frozen knights I must hang up my weapon upon this tree and come per misericordiam to the mad Potter Mortimor, wring thy hands Friar and sing a pitiful farewell to thy pike staff at parting. Oh tter Potter the Friar does sue, Now his master is slain and gone to have anew. Oh sir no sir not so sir, a was warned too late lie none of that flesh I love. On afore, on afore. A fair procession, Sir David be of good chea you cannot go out of the way having so many guides at hand. Well said Morgan Pigot Harper, and Prophet for the Kings one mouth. Who says the Prophet is and Ass, whose pro phecies come so to pailc: Said he not oft a worser sung it to, Lluellen after much ado, Should I spite heave up his hin, and be the highest of his kin: And see aloft Lluellens head, Impaled with a crown of led: My Lord let not this South- air lack, That hath such cunning in his Jack. Gentle Prophet and ye love me for spe Me not, the worst ke in the world to stir a wirche or anger a wise man, master ffe have we any nast, best give my horses some more aye. I have a budget in my nose this gay morning, and now will I try how clerkly the Friar can behave him self, 'tis a common fashion to get gold which stand, de liver your purses, Friar Davies will once in his days get money by wit, there is a rich Farmer should pass this ways to receive a round sum of money, if he come to me the money is mine, and the law shall take no van tage, I will cut off the law as the hangman would cut a man down when he hath shaken his heals half and hour under the gallows, well I must take some pains for this gold, and have at it. Then Friar lie thee down and die. And if any ask the reason why, Answer and say thou canst not tell, Unless because thou must to hell. I wish master proud Potter the Devil have my soul: But isle. make my slaile circumscribe your nole. Oh master short en my offences in mine eyes. If this Crucifige do not suffice, Send me to Heaven in a hempen sacrifice. Oh masters masters let this be warning: The Friar hath infected me with his learning.