Dorsetshire garland, or, The beggar's wedding/Dorsetshire garland, or, The beggar's wedding

THE BEGGAR's WEDDING.

PART I.

АLL you that delight in a jeſt that is true,
Give ear to theſe lines I unfold unto you
I'm ſure you will ſmile when theſe lines you do hear
This frolick was acted in fair Dorſetſshire.

⁠A noble Knight of renown, lived there,
And he had a daughter of beauty moſt fair.
Hard by liv'd a Merchant who had riches ſtore,
And he had a ſon whom he did adore.

⁠The knight & the merchant being neighbours ſo near
In friendſhip did live, and love'd each other dear,
And they had agreed thoſe ſweet infants ſo fair,
Should be man and wife wheu come to ripe years

⁠This Merchant fell ſick, and his Lady likewiſe,
They ſent for the Knight with tears in there eyes,
Saying, With this world we ſhortly muſt part,
And leave our ſweet baby the joy of our heart,

⁠I hope if we leave this ſweet babe in your care,
And all our eſtate and worldly affair,
You'll take care of him when we're laid in the grave
And furthermore great us the thing that we crave,

⁠That you will not break your promiſe to me,
But give your fair Daughter his Bride for to be:
But if that he die ere to age he do come,
Then all I leave him it ſhall be your own.

⁠To the church of England I'd have him upbrougt
To ſerve his high Maker, I'd have him be taught,
That we may meet together in heaven above.
Dear Sir, ſays the Knight, for your friendſhip & love.

⁠What has paſt betwixt us, I'll take ſpecial care,
How I do bring up your dear Son and Heir;
And if that ſo long the Lord give him life
My beautiful Daughter I'll give him to Wife.

⁠And ſo for the Babes they ſent for with ſpeed,
The Merchant he cry'd, My heart it does bleed,
To leave you behind me, but it muſt be done,
For death calls me hence, and my glaſs it is run.

⁠The Will being done I'm content he did ſay,
He kiſs'd the ſweet Babies, with lips cold as clay:
So both in one minute did yield up their breath,
The happieſt couple that e'er liv'd on earth,

⁠The Merchant and Wife being laid in the grave,
He took home the Child and kept him moſt brave,
The Knight's only Daughter and the Merchant's Son,
Became all the talk of the neighbouring town.

⁠Theſe children they loved each other dear,
This covetous Knight he began for to fear,
This promiſe which he did count but a jeſt,
He muſt perform, which diſturbed his reſt.

⁠My Daughter, ſaid he, is of beauty moſt bright,
And the will be fit for a Lord or a Knight
But ten thouſand pounds there is left to this boy,
I'd find out a means his life to deſtroy.

PART II.

HE hired a beggar this child for to kill
The innocent Babies thinking no ill,
As they in innocent ſport were at play,
With a treacherous laugh this falſe Knight did ſay,

⁠Come Jemmy, go forth for to take the air;
And I, worthy Sir, ſaid his Daughter ſo fair;
For to go and gather dazies with Jamie will go;
Her Father anſwer'd, it muſt not be ſo,

⁠You muſt ſtay at home till we come again,
This innocent child, like a lamb to be ſlain,
Did go with the beggar for many a mile;
At length he did ſay to him with a ſmile

⁠Pray where are you going, Sir, tell unto me,
Muſt I go no more pretty Suſan to ſee!
His innocent talk made the beggar relent,
So home to his wife with the child then he went

⁠He told her the ſtory, the woman ſhe ſaid,
He is a ſweet creature, a well favour'd babe;
A begging now with me, I ſay let him go,
We'll call him our ſon let us order it ſo.

⁠But five years of age was this Merchant's Son,
Yet he for the loſs of his Suſan did mourn;
The Beggarman's Wife to her Huſband did ſay,
Come let us contrive to ſteal Suſan away;

⁠It will be but juſtice to that cruel man,
That wanted his innocent life to trap in:
The Beggar to Dorset then inſtantly went,
To ſteal this young Lady was reſolute bent.

⁠He brought her ten miles till he came to a town
He ſtript off her clothes that ſhe might not be known
And over the hedge he threw them indeed,
So homeward at night he did haſten with ſpeed.

⁠In two or three days ſhe arriv'd at his cell;
Where a noble legion of beggars did dwell;
Where now we will leave the two lovers ſo young,
And turn to the Knight who does bitterly mourn.

⁠A hue and a cry ſends through every town,
For finding his Daughter, five hundred pounds;
They brought him her clothes, they found in the field,
Which made his believe that his child was kill'd,

⁠Now Heaven he cry'd, I ſee it is juſt,
The innocent Babe which I had to my ⟨truſt⟩,
His blood cries for vengeance, I have my deſert,
I have loſt my Daughter, the joy of my heart.

⁠So now let us leave the falſe traitor to mourn,
Who wand'ring about like a man that's forlorn,
And turn to young Jemmy and Suſan alſo,
Who along with the reſt a mumping did go.

⁠The Beggar he then for his children does own,
The dutifulleſt Babies that ever was known;
Which pleas'd him ſo well, to Doll he did ſay,
The money was given this Babe for to ſtay.

⁠He ſhall have for a portion, and twice as much more,
And ſince that each other they ſo much adore,
If that they do live to the age of eighteen.
We'll have the fineſt wedding that ever was ſeen.

⁠For Jemmy and Suſan in marriage we'll join,
Do not me ⟨controul⟩ for this frolick is mine:
A ſcore of fine ſuitors I mean to have there,
And we'll keep this wedding in fair Dorſetſhire.

⁠We'll blaze it about, that upon ſuch a day,
A brave beggar's wedding there is for to be;
The gentry will be ready to ſee ſuch a ſight,
And if he be living that perjured Knight,

⁠When that the wedding is done and all o'er,
I'll take the young couple unto his own door;
And make him a preſent of his own Daughter fair,
And tell him it is Jemmy his own son and Heir.

⁠Old Doll was well pleaſed to hear him ſay ſo,
So merrily they out a cruiſing did go.
For thirteen long years at this rate they did run,
At length the time for this wedding did come.

PART III.

The richeſt attire that there could be bought
With ſilver and gold was richly wrought,
For the Bride and Bridegroom they then did prepare
And ſo took their journey for fair Dorſetſhire.

⁠A ſcore of the beſt that belong'd to the tribe
They took them along for to credit the Bride:
The lame with their crutches, the halt and the blind
Were plac'd in great order to follow behind.

⁠When they had been two or three days in the town
The fame of a wedding was ſpread up and down;
The rich and the poor being curious to ſee,
And many reſolved the Bride's gueſt to be.

⁠They hired the nobleſt hall in the town,
That the rich and the poor had room to ſit down
But Jemmy and Suſan were kept up ſecure,
Till they in their ſplendor appear'd at the door.

⁠Some hundreds of people that ſtood for to gaze
At the ſight of the couple, were ſtruck with amaze
For ſhe did appear like an angel divine,
And he all the reſt of his ſex did outſhine.

⁠Old Doll and her Husſband they followed the Bride
With a budget of good bread and cheeſe by their ſide
And after came hopping the blind and the lame,
Such a wedding in England before was ne'er ſeen

⁠This couple they were not aſham'd of their gueſts
Becauſe that they nothing did know of their birth
Being joined in marriage, they back did return,
And now of the paſtime they had, Sir, at home.

⁠They furniſhed the table with good wedding cheer
They had mumpt on the road coming to Dorſetſshire
Good rind of fat bacon and nice mouldy cheeſe,
And niggins of ale, Sir, as ſtrong as you pleaſe.

⁠Dinner being ended, ſtarts up one of the gueſts,
Who pull'd out his pipes and played the beſt,
The lame and the blind fell to dancing the Hay,
The gentry flocked in as they would to a play.

⁠Amongſt the reſt was that treacherous Knight,
⟨Setting⟩ his eyes on his Daughter ſo bright,
⟨His⟩ heart it did flutter and leap in his breaſt,
⟨His⟩ ſpirit was ſeiz'd, and his mind was oppreſt.

⁠Old Doll cry'd, We muſt have a jigg of the Bride,
⟨Come⟩ play me a pretty hornpipe, ſhe cry'd;
⟨Which⟩ Suſan perform'd with ſo noble a grace,
⟨That⟩ ſhe won the praiſe of all was in the place.

⁠Well done, ſays the old man, 'tis a child of my own,
⟨Come⟩, jovial piper, Play up t'other tune:
⟨O⟩ health to the Bridegroom let's paſs round the room.
⟨To⟩' a Beggar brought up, he's a Merchant's Son born,

⁠The Knight hearing this, ſtept up to the Bride,
⟨Let⟩ me ſpeak with you, fair creature he cry'd,
⟨O⟩ you have a mark of a roſe on your breaſt,
⟨You⟩ are my dear Child and a Lady by birth.

⁠She show'd him the mark, he immediately cry'd,
⟨Conduct⟩ home the Bridegroom and beautiful Bride,
For this is my child that's been miſſing ſo long,
And her loving Huſband, the Merchant's dear Son,

⁠Bring all your gueſts into my own home,
⟨I⟩ kindly receive you, and when that is done,
I tell all the world of my treacherous deed,
For who can prevent what Fate has decreed.

⁠The cripples they ſnatch'd up their crutches and run,
⟨To⟩ ſee the ſtrange miracles there had been done;
Her father confeſſed the whole that ſame night:
⟨All⟩ praiſed the Beggar that ſav'd the Babe's life,

⁠All people upbraided him with this baſe crime,
With grief he did die in a little time:
And left this young couple ſix thouſand a year,
Who are ſtill call'd the Beggars of fair Dorſetſhire.

⁠Old Doll and her Huſband in ſplendor do dwell,
This couple they loved them heartily well:
You miſers who are of a covetous mind,
Strive not to prevent what Fate has deſign'd,