# Good brewed ale and wine, I dare well say, Furmity for pottage, and venison fine, And the umbles of the doe and all that ever comes in. Capons well baked, with knuckles of the roe, Raisons and currants, and other spices too, With Hey! The following is the Carol previously referred to as having been preserved on a single leaf of a book of Carols, printed by Wynkin de Worde. It is there entitled, "A Carol, brynging in the Bore's Head." The first verse is evidently a mere variation of that in the preceding song. V. HE boar's head in hand bring I, Qui estis in convivio. A CAROL OF HUNTING, The boar's head, I understand, Is the chief service in this land; Servite cum cantico, Be glad, lords, both more or less, For this hath ordained our steward To cheer you all this Christmas, The boar's head with mustard. On the other side of the leaf of Wynkin de Worde's volume is the following Carol, which, although apparently unconnected with our subject, we introduce as one of a class of songs usually sung during the Christmas season. That, in its own day, it was regarded as an undoubted Christmas Carol, is evident from the circumstance of its finding a place amongst Wynkin de Worde's collection, as the leaf which has been preserved, and which is the last of the book, bears the following imprint:— Thus endeth the Christmasse Carroles, newly enprinted at Londō, in fletestrete at the signe of the sonne by Wynkin de Worde. The yere of our lorde, M.D.xxi." 66 A CAROL OF HUNTING. As I came by a green forest side, I met with a forester that bade me abide, Underneath a tree I did me set, I had not stand there but a while, Not the mountenaunce* of a mile, * The meaning of this phrase, as used in the present instance, appears to be, "not the time it would occupy to travel a mile.” There came a great hart without guile. Talbot my hound, with a merry taste, All about the green wood he gan cast, I took my horn and blew him a blast With tro, ro, ro, ro: tro, ro, ro, ro: With hey go bet, hey go bet how, We shall have sport and game enow. There he goeth, there he goeth, With hey go bet, hey go bet how, We shall have sport and game enow. Carols in Praise of Alr. DURING the continuance of the Christmas banquet, there is no doubt but that a class of Carols were sung, either by the assembled company or by the attendant minstrels, having, for their subject matter, neither reference to the religious origin of the festival, nor to any of the particular ceremonies connected therewith. The following racy drinking songs we may presume to have been of the number, and doubtless they have oftentimes been chaunted forth from the stentorian lungs of many a jovial tippling crew, during the pauses which took place in the serving of the feast. The first one is taken from a manuscript of the commencement of the sixteenth century in the British Museum, and is there intituled, "A Christenmesse Carroll." The others have been extracted from the reprint by Mr. Wright, of the ancient manuscript in his own possession, before alluded to. I. BONE, God wot! Sticks in my throat- Of cornie ale, Nappy and stale, My life lies in great waste. Some ale or beer, Gentle butler, Some liquor thou us show, Such as you mash Our throats to wash, The best were that you brew. MS. Cott. Vesp. A, xxv., fol. 168, vo. |