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The Fryar and the Boy.
PART I.
YOU that in pleasant tales delight,
to pass the time away,
Each long and tedious winter's night,
read on this book I pray.
The fancies which in this you'll find,
will make you laugh your fill,
They'll cure a melancholy Mind,
beyond a Doctor's skill.
A cup af nut-brown nappy ale,
by a good fire side,
Attended with a merry tale,
is good at New-year's tide:
And likewise all winter long,
when friends together meet,
For why, a tale, or merry long,
surpasses music sweet.
Now such a one, my friends, is this
delightful merry tract,
It will make you laugh I wist,
untill your sides do crack
An honest Squire in Huntingdonshire,
three wives he did enjoy;
Now, by the first it doth appear,
he had a pretty boy.
With rosy checks and curled hair,
his eye brows something sad;
Now if I may the truth declare,
he was a witty lad.
His tender mother being dead,
it griev'd the father sore,
For he a shrew at length did wed,
who did like thunder roar.
