LESSON 47 JOHN GILPIN

JOHN GILPIN

Ⅱ

HOW JOHN FOLLOWED

But while his family started their journey, John saw three customers at his shop, and waited to attend to them. Finding that the stone bottles of wine had been left behind, he hung them on his belt, one on each side, "to keep his balance true," and set off again. For a time the horse walked slowly and cautiously.

BUT finding soon a smoother road

Beneath his well-shod feet,

The snorting beast began to trot,

Which galled ［1］ him in his seat.

So, "Fair and softly," John he cried;

But John he cried in vain;

That trot became a gallop soon,

In spite of curb ［2］ and rein.

So stooping down, as needs he must

Who cannot sit upright,

He grasped the mane with both his hands,

And eke with all his might.

His horse, who never in that sort

Had handled been before,

What thing upon his back had got

Did wonder more and more.

Away went Gilpin, neck or naught;

Away went hat and wig:

He little dreamt, when he set out,

Of running such a rig.

The wind did blow; the cloak did fly

Like streamer long and gay,

Till, loop and button failing both,

At last it flew away.

Then might all people well discern

The bottles he had slung;

A bottle swinging at each side,

As hath been said or sung.

The dogs did bark; the children screamed;

Up flew the windows all;

And every soul cried out, "Well done!"

As loud as he could bawl.

The men at the turnpikes, thinking John was riding a race, threw open their gates to let him pass; the bottles of wine, swinging behind his back, were shattered at a blow. Through Merry Islington he galloped, and on to Edmonton.

At Edmonton his loving wife

From the balcony espied

Her tender husband, wondering much

To see how he did ride.

Stop, stop! John Gilpin—Here's the house!

They all at once did cry;

The dinner waits, and we are tired.

Said Gilpin—"So am I."

But yet his horse was not a whit ［3］

Inclined to tarry ［4］ there;

For why?—his owner had a house

Full ten miles off, at Ware.

So like an arrow swift he flew,

Shot by an archer strong;

So did he fly—which brings me to

The middle of my song.

Away went Gilpin, out of breath,

And sore against his will,

Till at his friend the calender's

His horse at last stood still.

V JOHN GILPIN

The calender, amazed to see

His neighbour in such trim,

Laid down his pipe; flew to the gate;

And thus accosted ［5］ him.

What news? what news? your tidings tell. Tell me, you must and shall. Say, why bareheaded you are come? Or, why you come at all?

Now, Gilpin had a pleasant wit,

And loved a timely joke;

And thus unto the calender

In merry guise he spoke:

I came, because your horse would come; And, if I well forbode ［6］ , My hat and wig will soon be here. They are upon the road.

* * *

［1 ］ gall: To make a sore in the skin by rubbing.

［2 ］ curb: Part of the bridle.

［3 ］ not a whit: Not in the least.

［4 ］ tarry: Linger, wait.

［5 ］ accosted: Addressed, spoke to.

［6 ］ forebode: Foretell.