"Now tread we a measure! a hall! a hall! Now tread we a measure," quoth she-- The heart of Robin Beat thick and throbbing-- "Roving Bob, tread a measure with me!" "Ay, lassie!" quoth Rob, as her hand he gripes, "Though Satan himself were blowing the pipes!" Now around they go, and around, and around, With hop-skip-and-jump, and frolicsome bound, Such sailing and gliding, Such sinking and sliding, Such lofty curvetting, And grand pirouetting; Ned, you would swear that Monsieur Gilbert And Miss Taglioni were capering there! And oh! such awful music!--ne'er Fell sounds so uncanny on mortal ear, There were the tones of a dying man's groans Mix'd with the rattling of dead men's bones: Had you heard the shrieks, and the squeals, and the squeaks, You'd not have forgotten the sound for weeks. And around, and around, and around they go, Heel to heel, and toe to toe, Prance and caper, curvet and wheel, Toe to toe, and heel to heel. "'Tis merry, 'tis merry, Cummers, I trow, To dance thus beneath the nightshade bough!"-- "Goody Price, Goody Price, now riddle me right, Where may we sup this frolicsome night?" "Mine host of the Dragon hath mutton and veal! The Squire hath partridge, and widgeon, and teal; But old Sir Thopas hath daintier cheer, A pasty made of the good red deer, A huge grouse pie, and a fine Florentine, A fat roast goose, and a turkey and chine." --"Madge Gray, Madge Gray, Now tell me, I pray, Where's the best wassail bowl to our roundelay?" --"There is ale in the cellars of Tappington Hall, But the Squire[8] is a churl, and his drink is small; Mine host of the Dragon Hath many a flaggon Of double ale, lamb's wool, and _eau de vie_, But Sir Thopas, the Vicar, Hath costlier liquor,-- A butt of the choicest _Malvoisie_. He doth not lack Canary or sack; And a good pint stoup of Clary wine Smacks merrily off with a Turkey and Chine!" "Now away! and away! without delay, Hey _Cockalorum_! my Broomstick gay! We must be back ere the dawn of the day: Hey up the chimney! away! away!"-- Old Goody Price Mounts in a trice, In showing her legs she is not over nice; Old Goody Jones, All skin and bones, Follows "like winking."--Away go the crones, Knees and nose in a line with the toes, Sitting their brooms like so many Ducrows; Latest and last The damsel pass'd, One glance of her coal-black eye she cast; She laugh'd with glee loud laughters three, "Dost fear, Rob Gilpin, to ride with me?"-- Oh, never might man unscath'd espy One single glance from that coal-black eye. --Away she flew!-- Without more ado Rob seizes and mounts on a broomstick too, "Hey! up the chimney, lass! Hey after you!"