Wliittington and His Cat, 



121 



But I think, perhaps, the earliest notice of the story is in Eichard 

 Johnson's " Crown Garland of Golden Eoses." Johnson was a ballad 

 and prose romance writer at the end of the 16th and beginning of the 

 17th century, and it is not known in what year he was born, or when 

 he died. The first edition of his '^Garland" was published in 1612, 

 and the ballads in this collection were written at an earlier period than 

 the date of their publication in the form of a " Garland." The ballad 

 is entitled "A Song of Sir Eichard Whittington, who, by strange for- 

 tunes, came to be thrice Lord Maior of London ; with his bountifull 

 guifts and liberality given to this honourable Citty," to be sung to the 

 tune of " Dainty Come Thou to Me," and is as follows : 



Here must I tell the praise 



Of worthy Whittington; 

 Known to be in his dayes 



Thrice Maior of London. 

 But of poor parentage 



Borne was he, as we heare ; 

 And in his tender age 



Bred up in Lancashire. 



Poorely to London than 



Came up this simple lad. 

 Where with a marchant man 



Soone he a dwelling had ; 

 And in a kitchen plast 



A scullion for to be, 

 Whereas long time he past 



In labour drudgingly. 



His daily service was 



Turning spitts at the fire. 

 And to scour pots of brass 



For a poore scullion's hire. 

 Meat and drinke all his pay, 



Of coyne he had no store, 

 Therefore to run away 



In secret thought he bore. 



So from this marchant man 



Whittington secretly 

 Towards his country ran, 



To purchase liberty. 

 But as he went along 



In a fair summer morne, 

 London's bells sweetly rung, 



"Whittington back return." 



Evermore sounding so 



"Turn againe Whittington, 

 For thou in time shall grow 



Lord Maior of London." 

 Whereupon back againe 



Whittington came with speed, 

 A prentise to remain 



As the Lord had decreed. 



" Still blessed be the bells," 



'I'his was his daily song, 

 " They my good fortune tells. 



Most sweetly have they rung. 

 If God so favour me, 



I will not proove unkind, 

 London my love shall see, 



And my great bounties find." 



But see his happy chance; 



This scullion had a cat, 

 Which did his state advance, 



And by it wealth he gat. 



16 



His maister ventred forth. 

 To a land far unknowne. 



With marchandise of worth 

 As is in stories showne. 



Whittington had no more 



But his poore cat as than, 

 Which to the ship he bore. 



Like a brave marchant man. 

 "Vent'ring the same, quoth he, 



I may get store of golde, 

 And Maior of London be, 



As the belis have me told. 



Whittington's marchandise 



Carried was to a land 

 Troubled with rats and mice. 



As they did understand. 

 The king of that country, there 



As he at dinner sat, 

 Daily remained in fear 



Of many a mouse and rat. 



Meat that in trenchers lav 



No way they could keepe safe, 

 But by rats borne away, 



Fearing no wand or staffe. 

 Whereupon soone they brought 



Whittington's nimble cat. 

 Which by the king was bought 



Heapes of gold giv'n for that. 



Home againe came these men 



With their ships loaden so, 

 Whittington's wealth began 



By this cat thus to grow. 

 Scullion's life he forsooke 



To be a marchant good, 

 And soon began to looke 



How well his credit stood. 



After that he was chose 



Shriefe of the citty heere, 

 And then full quickly rise 



Higher, as did appeare. 

 For to this citie=; praise. 



Sir Richard Whittington 

 Came to be in his dayes 



Thrise Maior of London. 



More his fame to advance 



Thousands he lent his king, 

 To maintaine warres in France, 



Glory from thence to bring. 

 And after at a feast 



Which he the king did make. 

 He burnt the bonds all in jeast. 



And would no money take. , 



