Reliques of ancient English poetry: consisting of old heroic ballads ...

H2 ANCIENT SONGS
Its well, faid Guy, thy honeft thoughts appearey
Within that beaftlye bulke where devills dwell,
Which are thy tenants while thou liveft heare,
But will be landlords when thou Cornell in hell : 100
Vile mifcreant, prepare thee for their den,
Inhumane monller, hurtfull unto men.
But breathe thy felfe a time, while Igoe drinke,
For flameing Phoebus with his fyerye eye
Torments me foe with burning heat, I thinke 105
My thirft wold ferve to drinke an ocean drye :
Forbear a litle, as I delt with thee.
Quoth Amarant, thou haft noe foole of mee.
Noe, fillye wretch, my father taught more witt,
How I mold ufe fuch enemyes as thou, 1 ig
By all my gods I doe rejoice at itt,
To underftand that thirft conftraines thee now j
For all the treafure, that the world containes,
One drop of water mall not coole thy vaines.
Releeve my foe ! why, 'twere a madmans part : 115
Refrefh an adverfarye to my wrong :
If thou imagine this, a child thou art :
Noe, fellow, I have known the world too long
To be foe fimple : now I know thy want,
A minutes fpace to thee I will not grant. 120
And with thefe words heaving aloft his clubb
Into the ay re, he fwings the fame about
:
Then.