Trom.
We coblers lead a merry life:
All.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Strum.
Void of all envy and of strife:
All.
Dan diddle dan.
Dor.
Our ease is great, our labour small:
All.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Strum.
And yet our gains be much withal:
All.
Dan diddle dan.
Dor.
With this art so fine and fair:
All.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Trom.
No occupation may compare:
All.
Dan diddle dan.
Dor.
For merry pastime and joyful glee:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Strum.
Most happy men we coblers be:
Dan diddle dan.
Trom.
The can stands full of nappy ale:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Strum.
In our shop still withouten fail:
Dan diddle dan.
Dor.
This is our meat, this is our food:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Trom.
This brings us to a merry mood:
Dan diddle dan.
Strum.
This makes us work for company:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Dor.
To pull the tankards cheerfully:
Dan diddle dan.
Trom.
Drink to thy husband, Dorothy:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Dor.
Why then my Strumbo there's to thee:
Dan diddle dan.
-- 211 --
Strum.
Drink thou the rest, Trompart, amain:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Dor.
When that is gone, we'll fill't again:
Dan diddle dan.
Enter a Captain.
Cap.
The poorest state is farthest from annoy:
How merrily he sitteth on his stool!
But when he sees that needs he must be press'd,
He'll turn his note, and sing another tune.
Ho, by your leave, master cobler.
Strum.
You are welcome, gentleman. What will
you any old shoes or buskins, or will you have your
shoes clouted? I will do them as well as any cobler
in Cathness whatsoever.
Capt.
O master cobler, you are far deceiv'd in me;
for don't you see this? [Shewing him press-money.] I
come not to buy any shoes, but to buy yourself.
Come, sir, you must be a soldier in the king's cause.
Strum.
Why, but hear you, sir. Has your king
any commission to take any man against his will? I
promise you, I can scant believe it: or did he give
you commission?
Capt.
O, sir, you need not care for that; I need no
commission. Hold here. I command you, in the name
of our king Albanact, to appear to-morrow in the
town-house of Cathness.
Strum.
King Nactaball! I cry God mercy; what
have we to do with him, or he with us? But you,
sir, master Capontail, draw your pastboard, or else I
promise you, I'll give you a canvasado with a bastinado
over your shoulders, and teach you to come hither
with your implements.
Cap.
I pray thee, good fellow, be content; I do the
king's command.
Strum.
Put me out of your book then.
Cap.
I may not.
-- 212 --
Strum.
No! Well, come, sir, will your stomach serve
you? By gogs blue-hood7 note
and halidom, I will have a
bout with you.
[Strumbo snatches up a staff. They fight.
Enter Thrasimachus.
Thra.
How now!
What noise, what sudden clamour's this?
How now!
My captain and the cobler so hard at it!
Sirs, what is your quarrel?
Cap.
Nothing, sir, but that he will not take press-money.
Thra.
Here, good fellow, take it at my command,
Unless you mean to be stretch'd.
Strum.
Truly, master gentleman, I lack no money:
if you please I will resign it to one of these poor
fellows.
Thra.
No such matter.
Look you be at the common house8 note to-morrow.
[Exeunt Thrasimachus and Captain.
Strum.
O wife, I have spun a fair thread! If I had
been quiet, I had not been press'd, and therefore well
may I waiment9 note. But come, sirrah, shut up, for we
must to the wars.
[Exeunt.
Edmond Malone [1780], Supplement to the edition of Shakspeare's plays published in 1778 By Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. In two volumes. Containing additional observations by several of the former commentators: to which are subjoined the genuine poems of the same author, and seven plays that have been ascribed to him; with notes By the editor and others (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10911].
