'Ale, 'squire, you mean?' quoth he nimbly again, 'What, must it be purled'--'No, I love it best plain.' 'Why, if you'll drink ale, sir, pray take my advice, Here's the best ale i' th' land, if you'll go to the price; Better, I sure am, ne'er blew out a stopple; But then, in plain truth, it is sixpence a bottle.' 'Why, faith,' quoth I, 'friend, if your liquor be such, For the best ale in England, it is not too much: Let's have it, and quickly.'--'o sir! you may stay; A pot in your pate is a mile in your way: Come, bring out a bottle here presently, wife, Of the best Cheshire hum he e'er drank in his life.' Straight out comes the mistress in waistcoat of silk, As clear as a milkmaid, as white as her milk, With visage as oval and sleek as an egg, As straight as an arrow, as right as my leg: A curtsey she made, as demure as a sister, I could not forbear, but alighted and kissed her: Then ducking another, with most modest mien, The first word she said was, 'Will 't please you walk in? I thanked her; but told her, I then could not stay, For the haste of my business did call me away. She said, she was sorry it fell out so odd, But if, when again I should travel that road, I would stay there a night, she assured me the nation Should nowhere afford better accommodation: Meanwhile my spruce landlord has broken the cork, And called for a bodkin, though he had a fork; But I showed him a screw, which I told my brisk gull A trepan was for bottles had broken their skull; Which, as it was true, he believed without doubt, But 'twas I that applied it, and pulled the cork out. Bounce, quoth the bottle, the work being done, It roared, and it smoked, like a new-fired gun; But the shot missed us all, or else we'd been routed, Which yet was a wonder, we were so about it. Mine host poured and filled, till he could fill no fuller: 'Look here, sir,' quoth he, 'both for nap and for colour, Sans bragging, I hate it, nor will I e'er do 't; I defy Leek, and Lambhith, and Sandwich, to boot.' By my troth, he said true, for I speak it with tears, Though I have been a toss-pot these twenty good years, And have drank so much liquor has made me a debtor, In my days, that I know of, I never drank better: We found it so good and we drank so profoundly, That four good round shillings were whipt away roundly; And then I conceived it was time to be jogging, For our work had been done, had we stay'd t' other noggin. From thence we set forth with more metal and spright, Our horses were empty, our coxcombs were light; O'er Dellamore forest we, tantivy, posted, Till our horses were basted as if they were roasted: In truth, we pursued might have been by our haste, And I think Sir George Booth did not gallop so fast, Till about two o'clock after noon, God be blest, We came, safe and sound, all to Chester i' th' west.