The Poetical Works of John Skelton (Vol. 1&2). John Skelton

The Poetical Works of John Skelton (Vol. 1&2) - John Skelton


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proved at Norwich, Nov. 7, 1512 [Regr. Johnson].” Blomefield’s Hist. of Norfolk, i. 20. ed. 1739. Through the active kindness of Mr. Amyot, I have received a copy of the Will of William Skelton (or Shelton), who, though perhaps a relation, was surely not the father of the poet; for in this full and explicit document the name of John Skelton does not once occur.—From an entry which will be afterwards cited, it would seem that the Christian name of Skelton’s mother was Johanna.—In Skelton’s Latin lines on the city of Norwich (see vol. i. 174) we find,

      “Ah decus, ah patriæ specie pulcherrima dudum!

      Urbs Norvicensis,” &c.

      Does “patriæ” mean his native county?

      I take the present opportunity of giving from a MS. in my possession a much fuller copy than has hitherto appeared of the celebrated song which opens the second act of Gammer Gurtons Nedle, and which Warton calls “the first chanson à boire or drinking-ballad, of any merit, in our language.” Hist. of E. P. iii. 206. ed. 4to. The comedy was first printed in 1575: the manuscript copy of the song, as follows, is certainly of an earlier date:

      “backe & syde goo bare goo bare

      bothe hande & fote goo colde

      but belly god sende the good ale inowghe

      whether hyt be newe or olde.

      but yf that I

      maye have trwly

      goode ale my belly full

      I shall looke lyke one

      by swete sainte Johnn

      were shoron agaynste the woole

      thowthe I goo bare

      take yow no care

      I am nothynge colde

      I stuffe my skynne

      so full within

      of joly goode ale & olde.

      I cannot eate

      but lytyll meate

      my stomacke ys not goode

      but sure I thyncke

      that I cowde dryncke

      with hym that werythe an hoode

      dryncke ys my lyfe

      althowgthe my wyfe

      some tyme do chyde & scolde

      yete spare I not

      to plye the potte

      of joly goode ale & olde.

      backe & syde, &c.

      I love noo roste

      but a browne toste

      or a crabbe in the fyer

      a lytyll breade

      shall do me steade

      mooche breade I neuer desyer

      Nor froste nor snowe

      Nor wynde I trow

      Canne hurte me yf hyt wolde

      I am so wrapped

      within & lapped

      with joly goode ale & olde.

      backe & syde, &c.

      I care ryte nowghte

      I take no thowte

      for clothes to kepe me warme

      have I goode dryncke

      I surely thyncke

      nothynge canne do me harme

      for trwly than

      I feare noman

      be he neuer so bolde

      when I am armed

      & throwly warmed

      with joly good ale & olde.

      backe & syde, &c.

      but nowe & than

      I curse & banne

      they make ther ale so small

      god geve them care

      & evill to faare

      they strye the malte & all

      sooche pevisshe pewe

      I tell yowe trwe

      not for a c[r]ovne of golde

      ther commethe one syppe

      within my lyppe

      whether hyt be newe or olde.

      backe & syde, &c.

      good ale & stronge

      makethe me amonge

      full joconde & full lyte

      that ofte I slepe

      & take no kepe

      frome mornynge vntyll nyte

      then starte I vppe

      & fle to the cuppe

      the ryte waye on I holde

      my thurste to staunche

      I fyll my paynche

      with joly goode ale & olde.

      backe & syde, &c.

      and kytte my wyfe

      that as her lyfe

      lovethe


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