324 HARE-HUNTING AND HARRIERS 



Wee'l give thee law for half a mile 

 To see if thou canst us beguile, 



but then expect a thund'ring cry, 



made by us and our harmony. 



Hare 



Now since you set my life so sleight, 

 I'l make black sloven turn to white : 

 And Yorkshire Gray that runs at all 

 I'le make him wish he were in stall, 

 or Sorrel he that seems to flye, 

 I'le make him supple e're he dye. 



Let Barnards Bay do what he can. 

 Or Barrens Bay that now and than 

 Did interrupt mee on my way, 

 I'le make him neither jet nor play, 



or constant Robin though he lye, 



at his advantage, what care I. 



Will Hatton he hath done mee wrong. 



He struck mee as I run along. 



And with one pat made mee so sore, 



That I ran reeling to and fro ; 

 but if I dye his Master tell, 

 that fool shall ring my passing bell. 



Huntsman 



Alas poor Hare it is our nature, 

 To kill thee, and no other creature, 

 For our Master wants a bit. 

 And thou wilt well become the spit, 

 he'l eat thy flesh, we'l pick thy bone, 

 this is thy doom, so get thee gone. 



Hare 



Your Master may have better chear, 

 For I am dry, and butter is dear. 

 But, if he please to make a friend. 

 He'd better give a puddings end, 



for I being kill'd the sport he'l lack, 



and I must hang on the Huntsman's back. 



