To th’ honour of the Town, their state, their wealth, * * * * * And for the sake of this good nappy ale, Of my great favour it shall never fail, Bacchus and his party having once tasted the ale, drink all the casks out— then out they pull’d the Taps And stuck the Spiddocks finely in their hats, The Court then adjourns to Easingwold— With Nanny Driffield there to drink a glass For Bacchus having heard of her strong ale, He swore by Jupiter, he would not fail To have a merry bout if he did find Her nappy ale to please his princely Mind; Bacchus is so delighted with the ale that he grants her letters patent. Bacchus Prince of good fellows; To all to whom These our brave letters Pattents shall now come, Whereas wee’ve been informed now of late, That Nanny Driffield our great court and state For many years last past has much advanced By her strong humming ale. . . . * * * * * {316} This land-lady unto the noble state, And honour of a countess we create; And by our merry fuddling subjects, she Countess of Stingo henceforth call’d shall be. Some townsmen then come in, and a contest is arranged between the ale-drinkers and the wine-drinkers, in which the latter are of course worsted. 1 Colonus and Bacchus did meet Each one to commend his own liquor; The Juice of the Grape was sweet; But Barly Oyle ran down the quicker; Colonus did challenge the Gods, To fight in defence of his Barley, But Bacchus perceiving the odds, Desir’d a friendly parley. 2 They drunk full Bumpers about, And Bacchus an health did begin, The Bacchanalians gave a great shout, The Colonians then thronged fast in: They drunk double Tankards around, Till the Grape Boyes begun for to glore, The Rusticks neer flinch’d their ground, Till Bacchus fell down to the Floor. 3 Colonus did heartily laugh, And about the God they did daunce, Full pots about they did quaff: Whilest Bacchus lay still in a Trance; The grape boyes were beat out of play, And at length poor Bacchus did rise; To Colonus he yielded the day, So the Rusticks obtainèd the Prize. Bacchus, on coming to, adjourns his court to York, where they again taste— Both from North Allerton and Easingwold, From Sutton, Thirke, likewise from Rascal Town, . . . Ale also that’s called Knocker-down— * * * * * {317} They tasted all; And swore they were full glad, Such Stingoe, Nappy, pure ale they had found, Let’s loose no time said they but drink around. The Yorkshire Ale, however, proves too strong for Bacchus and his Court, and a final adjournment South is made, though— Bacchus swore to come he would not fail To glut himself with Yorkshire nappy ale. It is so pleasant, mellow too and fine, That Bacchus swore hee’d never more drink wine. Those who wish to peruse the “Yorkshire Dialogue in its pure natural Dialect” are referred to the British Museum.