The Two Men of Colston

" Whoy, Josey mon, where be'st thou gwoing
Woth all thyne own horses and keye,
With thy pocks on thy back, leyke a pether,
And bearnies and baggage forby ?"
".Whoy, dom it, mun, wost thou nwot hearing
Of all the bwad news that are out,
How that the Scwots rascals be cwoming
To reave all our yauds and our nout ?

" ' So I's e'en gwoing up to the muirlands,
Amang the weyld floshes to heyde,
With all my heall haudding and gyetting,
For fear that the worst should betyde.
Lword, mon ! hast thou newer been hearing,
There's noughts bwot the deavil to pay,
There's a Pwope cwoming down fro' the Heylands,
To herry, to bworn, and to slay ?

" He has mwore nor ten thwosand meale weyming,
The fearswomest creatures of all,
They call them Rebellioners — dom then !

And cannie-bulls swome do them call.
Whoy, mon, they eat Chreastians lyke robbits,
And bworn all the chworches for fwon ;
And we're all to be mwordered togyther,
Fro' the beam to the keyng on the thrwone.

" Whoy, our keyng he sends out a greyt general,
With all his whole army, nwo less ;
And what dwoes this Pwope and his menzie ?

Whoy, Twommy mon, feath thou'lt nwot guess?
Whoy, they fwalls all a-rworing and yelling,
Leyke a pack of mad hounds were their gowls ;
And they cwomes wopen-mouth on our swodgers.
And eats them wop, bwodies and sowls !

" Whoy, Heaster, what deavel's thou dwoing ?

Come, caw up the yaud woth the cart ;
Let us heaste out to Bwarton's weyld shieling,
For my blood it runs cold at my heart.
So fare thee weal, Twommy — 1's crying —
Commend me to Mwoll and thyne wyfe ;
If thou see'st oughts of Jwhony's wee Meary,
Lword, tell her to rwon for her lyfe !"

" Whoy, Josey mon, surely thou'st raving,
Thou'st heard the wrong seyd of the treuth ;
For this is THE TRUE KEYNG that's cwoming,
A brave and mwoch-wrong'd rwoyal yeuth.
Thou's ignorant as the yaud that thou reyd'st on,
Or cauve that thou dreyv'st out to the Iwone ;
For this Pwope is the Prince Charles Stuart,
And he's cwome bwot to clayme what's his own,
'" His feythers have held this ould keyngdom
For a meatter of ten thowsand years,
Till there cwomes a bit dwom'd scrwogy bwody,
A theyvish ould rascal. I hears ;
And he's stown the brave honest lad's crown fro'in,
And kick'd him out of house and hould,
And rewin'd us all with taxations,
And hang'd up the brave and the bwold.

" Now, Josey mon, how wod'st thou lyke it,
If swome crabbit half-wotted lown
Should cwome and seize on thy bit haudding,
And droyve thee fro' all that's theyne own ?

And, Josey mon, how wod'st thou lyke it,
If thou in theyne freands had swome hwope,
If they should all tworn their backs on thee,
And call thee a thief and a Pwope ?"

" Whoy, Heaster, where deavel's thou gwoing,
Thou'lt droyve the ould creature to dead ;
Hould still the cart till I conseyder, —
Gyang, take the ould yaud bee the head.
Whoy, Twommy mon, what wast thou saying ?

Cwome, say't all again without feal ;
If thou'lt swear unto all thou hast tould me,
I've had the wrong sow bee the teal."

" I'll swear unto all I has tould thee,
That this is our TRUE SOVEREIGN KEYNG ;
There never was house so ill gueydit,
And bee swuch a dwort of a theyng."
" Bwot what of the cannie-bulls, Twommy ?

That's reyther a doubtful concern ;
The thoughts of these hworrid meale weeyming
Make me tremble for Heaster and beam ?"

"' They're the clans of the N worth, honest Josey,
As brave men as ever had breath ;
They've ta'en the hard seyde of the quorrel,
To stand by the reyght until death.
They have left all their feythers and mwothers,
Their weyves and their sweethearts and all,
And their heames, and their dear little bearnies,
With their true prince to stand or to fall."

" Oh, Gwod bless their sowls, honest fellows !

Lword, Twommy ! I's crying like mad !
I dwont know at all what's the matter,
But 'tis summat of that rwoyal lad.
Hoy, Heaster ! thou fusionless hussey,
Tworn back the yaud's head towards heame ;
Get wop on the twop of the panniels,
And dreyve back the rwod that thou keame.

" Now Twommy, I's done leyke mee betters,
I's changed seydes, and sey let that stand,
And, mwore than mwost gentles can say for,
I've changed both with heart and with hand ;
And, since this lad is OUR TRUE SOVERING
I'll geave him all that I possess,
And I'll feyght for him too, should he need it, —
Can any true swobject do less?"

" Now geave me theyne hand, honest Josey,
That's spoke lyke a true Englishman ;
He needs but a pleyne honest stworey,
And he'll dwo what's reyght if he can.
Cwome thou down to ould Nanny Cworbats,
I'll give thee a quart of good brown,
And we'll dreynk to the health of Prince Charles,
And every true man to his own."