Poetica Erotica  

• Tb whisper'd, that the wanton's charms

Vnai yet allure thee to her arms;

Oht let no shameless rival's pride

Degrade and pain thy gentle bride.

Hail, HymenI god of faithful pairs!

Hail, HymenI who hast heard our prayers I

Unloved, unwedded youths and boys

May freely sport in wanton joys:

Let him, that's blest by wedlock's rite.

In wedlock seek his sole delight.

Hail, Hsrment god of faithful pairs!

Han Hymen! who hast heard our prayers!

And let no coldness damp his fire. Fair bride, nor coyness check desire. Oh! make his heart less sweet confess All lawless love, than thy caress. Hail, Hymen! god of faithful pairs! Hail, Hymen! who hast heard our prayers!

Riches, and power, and rank, and states With Manlius' love thy days await: These all thy youth shall proudly cheer. And these shall nurse thy latest year. Hail, HymenI god of faithful pairs! Hail, Hymen! who hast heard our prayers!

Till dotage, with enfeebling sway.

Shall trem]>le in thy temples gr^;

And shake the brow, as if it meant

To nod perpetual assent.

Hail, HymenI god of faithful pairs!

Hail, Hymen! who hast heard our prayers!

Let not the threshold, omen blest!

Be with thy golden slipper prest;

But swiftly spring with lightness o'er.

And swiftly pass the polished door.

Hail, HymenI god of faithful pairs!

Hail, HymenI who hast heard our prayers!

See, on the Tyrian couch reclining, The bridegroom for thy summons pining: By thee are all his senses fired; By thee is all his frame inspired. Hail, Hymen! god of faithful pairs! Hail, HymenI who hast heard our prayers!

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As warm as thine, his passion's heat, As strong his rapturous pubes beat; Nay, fiercer flames must stiU pervade The bridegroom tlian the timid maid. Hail, Hyment god of faithful pairsi Hail, Hyment who hast heard our prayers!

Purple-robed boy, whose pleasing care

Has been to lead tiie lingering fair,

Release her arm:— >By others led

She now ascends the bridal bed.

Hail, Hymen I god of faithful pairsi

Hail, Hymen I who hast heard our prayers I

Ye chaster matrons, who have known One honoured husband's love alone. Of tmth in years long virtuous tried, Tis yours to place the lovely bride. Hail, Hionenl god of faithful pairs t Han, Hymtail who hast heard our prayers!

Now haste, young bridegroom, swiftly haste; The bride is in the chamber placed: Inspiring blushes warmly streak The fairness of her snowy cheek. So miz'd with poppies' crimson glow The white parthenium's flow'rets blow.

Nor is thy form, by heaven above! 'Unworthy such a fair one^s love. Venus in rival charms array'd The manly youth and tender maid. Haste, bridegroom, haste I— One western ray, Still faintly lingering, chides delay.

Needs not to chide; thou swift hast sped. Propitious Venus bless thy bed! For sanction'd passion, solemn rites. On thee bestow thy wish'd delights: Not lust perverted, shame supprest. The pure desires that warm thy breast

Whoe'er the number would define Of sports and joys that shall be thine. He first must count the grains of sand That spread the Erythraean strand. And every star and twinkling light That stud the glistening arch of night

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Ot boundless be your love's excess. And soon our hopes let children bless I Let not this ancient honoured name Want heirs to guard its future fame; Nor any length of years assign A limit to the glorious line.

Soon ipay we see a baby rest Upon its lovely mother's breast; Which, feebly plasrful, stretching out Its little arms to those about. With lips apart a tiiiy space, Is laughing in its father's face.

Let young Torquatus' look avow All Manlius' features in his brow; That those, who know him not, may trace The knowledge of his noble race; And by his lineal brow declare lovely mother chaste as fair.

Then shall maternal virtue claim

As splendid praise, as pure a name

To deck her child, as erst was known

To young Telemachus alone,

Whom, then of all most fair and chaste,

Penelope with honour graced.

Now close the doors,* ye maiden friends; Our sports, our rite, our service ends. With you let virtue still reside, O bridegroom grave, and gentle bride t And youth its lusty hours employ In constant love and ardent joy.

ELEGY TO GALLUS IN PRAISE OF HIS MISTRESS

(From Propertius, 51- B. C. Translated by John Nott)

/T AUGH, as thou'rt wont, to see me sit forlorn, V-"-^ Left, Gallus, by my truant nymph to mourn;) Yet, faithless youth, I'll not thy taunts return; No female falsehood may my Gallus mourn I While nymphs betrayed increase thy am'rous fame,

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While fickle still thott rov'st from flame to flame;

Yet for one fair at length thy cheeks grow pale.

And in the first attack thy efforts faill

One shall avenge full many a slighted maid.

By one the wrongs of thousands be repaid!

One shall each vagrant looser love constrain.

And no new conquest shalt thou strive to gain I

Untaught by fame, unskilled in prophecy,

I*ve seen— and canst thou what I saw deny?

Locked to her neck, I've seen thee panting laid;

I've seen thy tears; thine arms thrown round the

On her dear lips I've seen thee wish to die;

Nay wish those things, which shame must needs pass by*

Not e'en my presence could your raptures stay. Such raging passions bore your souls away; Less fond the god whom Taenarus adores. When with Enipeus, through Haemonian shores, He mizt his waves; and to his fraudful breast The beauteous daughter of Salmoneus prest: Less fond Alddes, when from Aetna's height He rose to regions of eternal light, And first enfolded in his longing arms Celestial Hebe's ever-blooming charms. One dayl — and thine exceeds all former fires; No lukewarm flame thy beauteous maid inspires; (Thy old disdain she lets thee not renew; No more thon'lt swerve; passion shall keep thee true.) Nor is it strange that such should be thy love. When thy bright fair might grace the arms of Jove; As Leda's sdf, or Leda's daughter fair. She with the beauteous three might well compare; Not Argive heroines with her charms can vie. Her speech might win the ruler of the sky.

Since doom'd to passion, let thy flame bum on; Of her thou'rt worthy, and of her alone: New is thy love, so prosp'rous may it bet And let this nsrmph be every nymph to thee.

ELEGY TO CYNTHIA (From Propertitts. Translated by Sir Charles Elton)

NOT such Corinthian Lais' sighting train. Before whose gates all prostrate Greece had lain; Not such a crowd Menander's Thais drew,

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Whose charms th' Athenian people fafd to woo;

Nor the, who could the Theban towers rebuild.

When hosts of suitors had their coffers fill'd.

Nay— by false kinsmen are thy lips carest;

By sanctioned simulated kisses prest

The forma of youths and beauteous gods, that rise

Around thy pictured roof, offend mine eyes.

The tender lisping babe, by thee carest

Within its cradle, wounds my jealous breast

I fear thy mother's kiss, thy sister dread;

Suspect the virgin partner of her bed:

All wakes my spleen, a very coward grown:

Forgive the fears that spring from thee alone.

Wretched in jealous terror, to my eyes

Beneath each female robe a lover lies.

Blest was Admetus' spouse, and blest the dame

Who shared Ulsrsses' couch in modest fame:

Oht ever happy shall the fair-one prove.

Who by her husband's threshold bounds her love.

Aht why should Modestjr's pure fane ascend?

Why at her shrine the blushing maiden bend?

If, when she weds, her passions spurn control;

If the bold matron sates her wishful soul?

The hand, that first in naked colours traced

Groups of loose loves, on walls that once were chaste:

And full exposed, broad burning on the light.

The shapes and postures that abash the sight;

Made artless minds in crime's refinements wise.

And flash'd enlightening vice on virgin eyes.

Woe to the wretch t who thus insidious wove

Mute rapture's veil o'er wrath and tears of love I

Not thus the roofs were decked in olden time

Nor the stain'd walls were painted with a crime:

Then, for some cause, the desert fanes of Rome

Wave with rank grass, while spiders veil the dome.

What guards, O Cynthial shall thy path confine?

What threshold bound that wilful foot of thine?

Weak is constraint, if women loth obey,

And she is safe, who, blushing, fears to stray.

ELEGY IN DEFENCE OF INCONSTANCY (From Propertitts. Translated by Sir Charles Elton)

p^RAMEST thou excuse, who art a tale to all?

^ Whose Cynthia long is read at every stall?" These words might damp a deaf man's brow, and move

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A candid bliiah for mean and nameleaa love. But did xaj Cynthia breathe a melting sigh, I were not called the head of levity: Nor broad town^scandal should traduce my fame: Then would I speak, though branded thus by name. Wonder not thou that meaner nymphs invite: They less defame me: are the causes light? Shell now a fan of peacock's plumes demand; And now a oTstal ball to cool her hand: Tease me to death for ivory dice, and pray For glittering baubles of the sacred way. Ahl let me die if I regard the cost: A jflting fair one's mockery stings me most Was this the favour to tran^ort my heart? Thon feeTst no blush, thus charming as thou art: Scarce two short nights in tender joys are sped. And I am called intruder on thy bed. Yet wouldst thou praise my person; read my lay: Has this thy love then flown so swift away? The race of genius may my rival run: Bat let him learn from me to love but one. WhatI he forsooth will Lema's snake enfold; Snatch from th' Hesperian dragon fruits of gold; Drain poisonous juice; or shlpwreck'd gulp the sea; And from no miseries shrink for sake of thee? Ahl would, my life! these tasks were proved in mel Then should we find this gallant, now so proud. Skulk his mean head among the coward crowd. Let the vain braggart vaunt his puffed success; One short year shall divorce your tenderness. No Sibyl's years, Herculean toils, avail. Nor that last gloomy day to make my fondness f aiL Tes — ^thou shalt cull my bones, which tears bedew: Tropertiust these were thine: ah tried and truel Ah met most truel though not through noble veins Flow'd thy rich blood, nor ample thy domains." Tes — I will an endure: all wrongs are slight: A beauteous woman makes the burden light Many for thee, I well believe, have sighed; But few of men in constancy are tried. Brief time for Ariadne Thesus burned: Demopho5n from his PhiUis ingrate turned: In Jason's bark the sea Medea braved, Tet, lone abandon'd, cursed the man she saved: Hard too the woman's heart, whose f eign'd desire For many lovers fans the ready fire. Not to the suitors, vain of noble race. Not to the wealthy, yield thy bribed embrace:

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Of these scarce one would shed a tear for thee»

Or near thy urn be found, as I shall be, *

Yet rather thou for me, grant, heaven! the prayer,' '

Smite on thy naked breast, and strew thy streaming hair. "

!1

AN ELEGY FROM PROPERTIUS I

(Translated by Mr. Adams. Misceltmny Poems* 1709)

AS on the beach sad Ariadae lay, ^^ While the deaf winds false Theseus bore away; As from the rock Andromeda redeemed, t

More sweet, more fair in her first slumber seemed; Or as the no less weary Bacchanal Surprised by sleep near some smooth stream does fall; Such seemed to me, so was my Cynthia laid. While breathing soft repose the lovely maid 1

On her fair hand reclined her bending head; When I, well drunk through the too narrow street Dragged home at midnight my unfaithful feet; But as she appeared so charming to my view. Gently I pressed the bed, and near her drew. Thinking (for so much sense I still retained) The Fort of Love might by surprise be gained. Yet though commanded by a double fire. Both by the flames of wine, and hot desire; Though my lewd hand would naughtily have strayed. And I would fain my arms have ready made; I durst not in the soft assault engage, Dreading to wake her well experienced rage; But so my greedy eyes surveyed her o'er. The waking Argus watched not lo more; Sometimes I loosed the chaplet from my brow. And tried how sweetly 'twould on Cynthia show. Sometimes corrected her disordered hair. That loosely wantoned with the sportive air. And when she sighed, I credulously feared. Some frightful vision to my love appeared. Till the bright moon thro' the window shone, (The moon that would not suddenly be gone;) She with her subtile tsys unclosed her eyes. When thus against me did her fury rise: ^At length affronted by some tawdry jade. Kicked out of doors, you're forced into my bed; For where is it you spend your nights? you come. Drawn off and impotent, at morning, home;

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I wish* base mant I with such nights you had, Aa you force met unhappy met to lead. S o me tim es, I with my needle sleep deceive. Then with my lute my weariness relieve. Then do I weep, and curse your tedious stay. While in some other's arms you melt away; Tin sleep's soft wings my willing eyelids dose. Beguile my sorrows, and my cares conq>ose.

PYGMALION AND THE STATUE

(By Ovid. Translated by John Dryden. Met Bk. x.

43 B. C^— 18 A. D.)

Tlie Propaettdes, for their imptident BehaTionr, beins tum'd into Stone by Venos, Pjgmahon, Prince of Cyprus, detettcd all Women for their Sake, aad reeolved never to marry. He falls in love with a Statue of bis own making, which is dianged into a Maid, whom he marries. One of his Do* flcendants is Ginjras, the Father of Myrrha; the Daughter incestuously krrea her own Father; for which she is changed into the Tree which bears ber Name.

PYGMALION loathing their lascivious Life, Abhorred all Womankind, but most a Wife: So single chose to live, and shunned to wed, Well pleased to want a Consort of his Bed. Yet fearing Idleness, the Nurse of HI, In Sculpture exercised his happy Skill; And carved in Ivory such a Maid, so fair, Aa Nature could not with his Art compare. Were she to work; but in her own Defence, Must take her Pattern here, and copy hence. Pleased with his Idol, he commends, admires. Adores; and last, the Thing adored, desires. A very Virgin in her Face was seen. And had she moved, a living Maid had been: One would have thought she could have stirred; but strove With Modesty, and was ashamed to move. Art hid with Art, so well performed the Cheat, It caught the Carver with his own Deceit: He knows 'tis Madness, yet he must adore. And stin the more he knows it, loves the more: The Flesh, or what so seems, he touches oft, Which feds so smooth, that he believes it soft Fired with this Thought, at once he strained the Breast, And on the Lips a burning Kiss impressed.

• Tia true, the hardened Breast resists the Gripe,

And the cold Lips return a Kiss unripe:

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But when, redring back, he looked again, !i

To think it Ivory, was a thought too mean: i

So would believe she kissed, and courting more, n

Again embraced her naked Body o'er; And straining hard the Statue, was afraid

His Hands had made a Dint, and hurt his Iffaid: i

Explored her. Limb by Limb, and feared to find So rude a Gripe had left a livid Mark behind i

With Flatt'ry now he seeks her Mind to move, i

And now with Gifts (the powerful Bribes o£ Love): He furnishes her Closet first; and fills j

The crowded Shelves with Rarities of Shells;

Adds Orient Pearls, which from the Conchs he drew, ]

And all the sparkling Stones of various Hue: j

And Parrots, imitating Humane Tongue, And singing-birds in Silver Cages hung; And ev'ry fragrant Flower, and odorous Green^ Were sorted well, with Lumps of Amber laid between: Rich, fashionable Robes her person Deck: Pendants her Ears, and Pearls adorn her Neck: Her tapered Fingers too With Rings are graced. And an embroidered Zone surrounds her slender Waist Thus like a Queen arrayed, so richly dressed. Beauteous she shewed, but naked shewed the best. Then, from the Floor, he raised a Royal Bed, With Coverings of Sydonian Purple spread: The Solemn Rites performed, he calls her Bride, With Blandishments invites her to his Side, And as she were with Vital Sense possessed. Her Head did on a plumy Pillow rest The Feast of Venus came, a Solemn Day, To which the Cypriots due Devotion pay; With gilded Horns the Milk-white Heifers led. Slaughtered before the sacred Altars, bled: Pygmalion offering, first approached the Shrine, And then with Pray'rs implored the Powers Divine: Almighty Gods, if all we Mortals want, If all we can require, be yours to grant; Make this fair Statue mine, he would have said. But changed his Words for shame; and only prajred. Give me the Likeness of my Ivory Maid. The Golden Goddess, present at the Prayer, Well knew he meant th' inanimated Fair, And gave the Sign of granting his Desire; For thrice in cheerful Flames ascends the Fire. The Youth, returning to his Mistress, hies. And, impudent in Hope, with ardent Eyes, And beating breast, by the dear Statue liok

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He kisses her white Lips, renews the Bliss,

And looks and thinks they redden at the Kiss:

He thought them warm before: Nor longer stajrs.

Bat next his Hand on her hard Bosom lajrs:

Hard as it was, beginning to relent,

It seemed, the Breast beneath his Fingers bent;

He felt again, his Fingers made a Print,

Twas Flesh, but Flesh so firm, it rose against the Dint:

The pleasing Task he fails not to renew;

Soft, and more soft at every Touch it grew;

Like pliant Wax, when chafing Hands reduce

The former Mass to Form, and frame for Use

He would believe, but yet is still in pain.

And tries his Argument of Sense again.

Presses the Pulse, and feels the leaping Vein.

Convinced, o'erjoyed, his studied Thanks and Praise,

To her who made the Miracle, he pays:

Then Lips to Lips he joined; now freed from Fear,

He found the Savour of the Kiss sincere:

At this the wakened image oped her Eyes,

And viewed at once the Light and Lover, with surprise.

The Goddess present at the Match she made.

So blessed the Bed, such Fruitfulness conveyed.

That e'er ten Moons had sharpened either Horn,

To crown their Bliss, a lovely Boy was bom;

Piq>hos his Name, who, grown to Manhood, walled

The City Paphos, from the Founder called.

TO HIS MISTRESS

(From Ovid's Amours^ Bk. I, Elegy IV. Translated by

John Dry den) ^

YOUR husband will be with us at the Treat; May that be the last Supper he shall Eat And am poor I, a Gruest invited there. Only to see, while he may touch the Fair? To see you Kiss and Hug your nauseous Lord, While his lewd Hand descends below the Board? Now wonder not that Htppodamia's Charms, At such a sight, the Centaurs urged to Arms; That in a rage ^ey threw their Cups aside. Assailed the Bridegroom, and would force the Bride. I am not half a Horse (I would I were) :

• See translation by ICarlowe in Poetiea EroHca, toL i, p. 44.

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Yet hardly can from you my Hands forbear. \

1

Take then my Counsel; which observed, may be Of some Importance both to you and me. ]

Be sure to come before your Man be there; J

There's nothing can be done; but come how e're. 1

Sit next him (that belongs to Decency); I

But tread upon my Foot in passing by.

Read in my Looks what silently they speak, 1

And silly, with your Eyes, your* Answer make. j

My Lifted Eye-brow shall declare my Pain; ]

My Right-Hand to his fellow shall complain;

And on the Back a Letter' shall design; |

Besides a Note that shall be Writ in Wine. When e're you think upon our last Embrace, With your Fore-iinger gently touch your Face. If you are pleased with what I do or say. Handle your Rings, or with your Fingers play. As Suppliants use at Altars, hold the Board, When eVe you wish the Devil may take your Lord. When he fiUs for you, never touch the Cup; But bid th' officious Cuckold drink it up. The Waiter on those Services employ. Drink you, and I will snatch it from the Boy: Watching the part where your sweet Mouth hath been. And thence, with eager Lips, will suck it in. If he, with Clownish Manners, thinks it fit To taste, and offer you the nasty bit. Reject his greazy Kindness, and restore Th' unsavory Morsel he had chewed before. Nor let his Arms embrace your Neck, nor rest Your tender Cheek upon his hairy Breast Let not his Hand within your Bosom stray,

And rudely with your pretty Bubbies play. I

But above all, let him no Kiss receive; That's an Offence I never can forgive. Do not, O do not that sweet Mouth resign, Lest I rise up in Arms, and cry, Tis mine. I shall thrust in betwixt, and void of Fear The manifest Adulf rer will appear. These things are plain to Sight; but more I doubt What you conceal beneath your Petticoat. Take not his Leg between your tender Thighs, Nor, with your Hand, provoke my Foie to rise. How many Love-Inventions I deplore. Which I, myself, have practised all before? How oft have I been forced the Robe tp lift * In Company to make a homely shift For a bare Bout, ill huddled o'er in hast,

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o'er mj side the Fair her Mantle cast. Yon to your Husband shall not be so kind; But, lest you should, your Mantle leave beUnd. Encourage him to Tope; but Kiss him not. Nor mix one drop of Water in his Pot If he be Fuddled well, and Snores apace Then we may take Advice from Time and Place, When all depart, when Complements are loud. Be sure to mix among the thickest Crowd. There I will be, and there we cannot miss, Alas» what length of Labour I employ. Just to secure a short and transient Joyt For Night must part us: and when Night is corner Tucked underneath his Arm he leads you Home. He locks you in; I follow to the Door, His Fortune envy, and my own deplore. He kisses you, he more than kisses too; Th' outrageous Cuckold thinks it all his due. But, add not to his Joy, by your consent. And let it not be given, but only lent. Return no Kiss, nor move in any sort; Make it a dull and a malignant Sport Had I my Wish, he should no Pleasure take, But slubber o'er your Business for my sake. And what e're Fortune shall this Night befall. Coax me to-morrow, by forswearing all.

THE SIXTH SATIRE OF JUVENAL* (To Ursidius Posthumus. Translated by William Qliford)

YES, I believe that Chastity was known. And prized on earth, while Saturn filled the throne; When rocks a bleak and scanty shelter gave. When sleep and shepherds thronged one common cave. And when the mountain wife her couch bestrewed With skins of beasts, joint tenants of the wood. And reeds, and leaves plucked from the neighbouring tree>-«  A woman, Cynthia, far unlike to thee, Or thee, weak child of fondness and of fears, Whose eyes a sparrow's death suffused with tears: But strong, and reaching to her burly brood Her big-swollen breasts, replete with wholesome food. And rougher than her husband, gorged with mast,

>S9'X3« A. D.

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And frequent belching from the coarse repast

For when the world was new, the race that broke.

Unfathered, from the soil or opening oak, I

Lived most unlike the men of later times,

The puling brood of follies and of crimes. 1

Haply some trace of Chastity remained.

While Jove, but Jove as yet unbearded, reigned: j

Before the Greek bound, by another's head.

His doubtful faith; or men, of theft in dread, i

Had learned their herbs and fruitage to inunure.

But all was unenclosed, and all secure I I

At length Astrea, from these confines driven, ]

Regained by slow degrees her native heaven |

With her retired her sister in disgust,

And left the world to rapine, and to lust

• Tis not a practice, friend, of recent date, i

But old, established, and inveterate, i

To climb another's couch, and boldly slight i

The sacred Genius of the nuptial rite:

All other crimes the Age of Iron curst;

But that of Silver saw adulterers first

Go then, prepare to bring your mistress home. And crown your doors with garlands, ere she come- But will one man suffice, methinks, you cry. For all her wants and wishes? Will one eyet And yet there runs, 'tis said, a wondrous tale, Of some pure maid, who lives— in some lone vale. There she may live; but let the phoenix, placed At Gabii or Fidenae, prove as chaste As at her father's farm (—Yet who will swear. That nought is done in night and silence there? Time was, when Jupiter and Mars, we're told. With many a nymph in woods and caves made bold; And still, perhaps, they may not be too old. Survey our public places; see you there One woman worthy of your serious care? See you, tiirough all the crowded benches, one. Whom yon might take securely for your own?— Lot while Bathyllus, with his flexile limbs, Acts Leda, and through every posture swims, Tucda deUghts to realize the play. And in lascivious trances melts away; While rustic Thymele, with curious eye, Marks the quick pant, the lingering, deep-drawn sigh. And while her cheeks with burning blushes glow. Learns this— learns all ^e city matrons know.

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Hippia, who shared a rich patrician's bed.

To Egypt with a gladiator fled.

While rank Canopus eyed, widi strong disgust.

This ranker specimen of Roman lust.

Without one pang, the profligate resigned

Her husband, sister, sire; gave to the wind

Her children's tears; yea, tore herself away,

(To strike you more,) — ^from Paris and the Playt

And though, in affluence bom, her infant head

Had pressed the down of an embroidered bed.

She braved the deep, (she long had braved her fame;

But this is little— to the courtly dame,)

And, with undaunted breast, the changes bore

Of many a sea, the swelling and the roar.

Have they an honest call, such ills to bear?

Cold shiverings seize them, and they shrink with fear;

But set illicit pleasure in their eye,

Onward they rush, and every toil defy I

Summoned by duty, to attend her lord.

How, cried the lady, can I get on board?

How bear the dizzy motion? how the smell?

But— when the adulterer calls her, all is well I

She roams the deck, with pleasure ever new.

Tugs at the ropes, and messes with the crew;

But with her husband — O, how changed the easel

Sickt sickt she cries, and vomits in his face.

Start you at wrongs that touch a private name. At H^pia'a lewdness, and Veiento's shame? Turn to the rivals of the immortal Powers, And mark how like their fortunes are to ourst Claudius had scarce begun his eyes to close, Ere from his pillow Messalina rose; (Accustomed long the bed of state to slight For the coarse mattress, and the hood of night;) And with one maid, and her dark hair concealed Beneath a yellow tire, a strumpet veiled! She slipt into the stews, unseen, unknown. And hired a cell, yet reeking, for her own. There, flinging off her dress, the imperial whore Stood, with bare breasts and gilded, at the door. And showed, Britannicus, to all who came. The womb tiiat bore thee, in Lycisca's name! Allured the passers*by with many a wile, ' And asked her price, and took it, with a smile. And when the hour of business now was spent, And all the trulls dismissed, repining went; Yet what she could, she did; slowly she past,

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And saw her man, and shut her cell, the last,

— Still raging with the fever of desire.

Her veins all turgid, and her hlood all fire.

With joyless pace, the imperial couch she sought,

And to her happy spouse (yet slumbering) brought

Cheeks rank with sweat, limbs drenched with poisonous dews.

The steam of lamps, and odour of the stews I

'Twere long to tell what philters they provide.

What drugs, to set a son-in-law aside.

Women, in judgment weak, in feeling strong.

By every gust of passion borne along.

Act, in their fits, such crimes, that, to be just.

The least pernicious of their sins is lust

Some faults, though small, no husband yet can bear:

'Tis now the nauseous cant, that none is fair.

Unless her thoughts in Attic terms she dress;

A mere Cecropian of a Sulmonesst

All now is Greek: in Greek their souls they pour.

In Greek their fears, hopes, joys; — ^what would you more?

In Greek they clasp didr lovers. We allow

These fooleries to girls: but thou, O thou.

Who tremblest on the verge of eighty-eight.

To Greek it stiUI — ^'tis now, a day too late.

Fob! how it savours of the dregs of lust.

When an old hag, whose blandishments disgust.

Affects the infant lisp, the girlish squeak.

And mumbles out, "My life I My soul I" in Greek I

Words, which the secret sheets alone should hear.

But which she trumpets in the public ear.

And words, indeed, have power — ^But though she woo

In softer strains than e'er Carpophorus knew.

Her wrinkles still employ her favourite's cares;

And while she murmurs love, he counts her years!

To a fond spouse a wife no mercy shows:— Though warmed with equal fires, she mocks his woes. And triumphs in his spoils: her wajrward will Defeats his bliss, and turns his good to ill! Nought must be given, if she opposes; nought. If she opposes, must be sold or bought; She tells him where to love, and where to hate, (Shuts out the ancient friend, whose beard his gate Knew, from its downy to its hoaty state:) And when pimps, parasites, of all degrees, Have power to will their fortunes as they please. She dictates his; and impudently dares To name his very rivals for his heirst

[39]

Go, crucify that slave.** For what offence?

Who the accuser? Where the evidence?

For when the life of MAN is in debate.

No time can be too long, no care too great;

Hear all, weigh all with caution, I advise—

"^hou sniveUert is a slave a MAN?" she cries.

He's innocent I be't so >— 'tis my command.

My will; let that, sir, for a reason stand.**

Thus the virago triumphs, thus she reigns:

Anon she sickens of her first domains?

And seeks for new; husband on husband takes,

Till of her bridal veil one rent she makes.

Again she tires, again for change she burns.

And to the bed she lately left returns.

While the fresh garlands, and unfaded boughs.

Yet deck the portal of her wondering spouse.

Thus swells the list; EIGHT HUSBANDS IN FIVE YEARS;

A rare inscription for their sepulchres!

Nay more, they Fence I who has not marked their oil. Their purple rugs, for this preposterous toil? Room for the lady— -lol she seeks the list, And fiercely tilts at her antagonist, A post! which, with her buckler, she provokes. And bores and batters with repeated strokes; Till all the fencer's art can do she shows. And the glad master interrupts her blows. O worthy, sure, to head those wanton dames. Who foot it naked at the Floral games; Unless, with nobler daring, she aspire. And tempt the arena's bloody field— ^or hire I What sense of shame is to that female known. Who envies our pursuits, and hates her own? Yet would she not, though proud in arms to shine, (True woman still,) her sex for ours resign; For there's a thing she loves beyond compare. And we, alast have no advantage there- Heavens I with what glee a husband must behold His wife's accoutrements, in public, sold; And auctioneers displaying to the throng Her crest, her belt, her gauntlet, and her thong I Or, if in wider frolics she engage. And take her private lessons for the stage. Thai three-fold rapture must expand his breast. To see her greaves "a-going," with the rest Yet these are they, the tender souls! who sweat In muslin, and in silk expire with heat- Mark, with what force, as the full blow descends,

[33]

She thunders *liahl** again, how low the bends Beneath the opposer's stroke; how firm she rests. Poised on her hams, and every step contests: Then laugh— to see her squat, when all is o'er I Daughters of Lepidus, and Gurges old. And blind Metellus, did ye e'er behold Asylla (though a fencer's trull confest) Tilt at a stake, thus impudently drestt Tis night; yet hope no slumbers with your wife; The nuptial bed is still the scene of strife: There lives the keen debate, the clamorous brawl, And quiet never comes, that comes to aU." Fierce as a tigress plundered of her young. Rage fires her breast, and loosens all her tongue. When, conscious of her gwlt, she feigns to groan. And chides your loose amours, to hide her own; Storms at the scandal of your baser flames. And weeps her injuries from imagined names. With tears that, marshalled, at their station stand, And flow impassioned, as she gives command. Yott think those showers her true affection prove. And deem yourself— «o happy in her lovet With fond caresses strive her heart to cheer. And from her eyelids suck the starting tear: —But could you now examine the scrutore Of this most loving, this most jealous whore. What amorous lays, what letters would you see, Proofo, damning proofs, of her sincerity!

Now, all the evils of long peace are ours; Luxury, more terrible than hostile powers. Her baleful influence wide around has hurled. And well avenged the subjugated world I —Since Poverty, our better Genius, fled. Vice, like a deluge, o'er the State has spread. Now, shame to Rome! in every street are found The essenced Sybarite, with roses crowned, The gay Miletan, and the Tarentine, Lewd, petulant, and reeling ripe with wine I Wealth first, the ready pander to all sin. Brought foreign manners, foreign vices in; Enervate wealth, and with seductive art, Sapped every homebred virtue of the heart; Yes, every:— for what cares the drunken dame, (Take head or tail, to her 'tis just the same,) Who^ at deep midnight, on fat oysters sups. And froths with imguents her Falemian cups; Who swallows oceans, till the tables rise,

[34]

And doable lustres dance before her eyest

Thus flushed, conceive, as Tullia homeward goes.

With what contempt she tosses up her nose

At Chastity's hoar fane! what impious jeers

Collatia pours in Maura's tingling ears I

Here stop their litters, here they all alight,

And squat together in the goddess' sight:—

Ton pass, aroused at dawn your court to pay.

The loathsome scene of their licentious play.

Who knows not now, my friend, the secret rites

Of the Good Goddess; when the dance excites

The boiling blood; when, to distraction wound.

By wine, and music's stimulating sound.

The menads of Priapus, with wild air,

Ho^ horrible, and toss their flowing hairt

Then, how the wine at every pore o'erflowsl

How the eye sparkles I how the bosom glows!

How the cheek bums! and, as the passions rise.

How the strong feeling bursts in eager cries!—

Sanfeia now springs forth, and tries a fall

With the town prostitutes, and throws tliem all;

But yields, herself, to Medulina, known

For parts, and powers, superior to her own.

Maids, mistresses, alike the contest share,

And 'tis not always birth that triumphs tiiere.

Nothing is feigned in this accursed game:

'Tis genuine all; and such as would inflame

The frozen age of Priam, and inspire

The ruptured bed-rid Nestor with desire.

Stung with their mimic feats, a hollow groan

Of lust breaks forth; the sex, the sex is shown!

And one loud yell re-echoes through the den,

"Now, now, 'tis lawful! now admit the men!"

There's none arrived. Not yet! Then scour the street.

And bring us quickly here,, the first you meet"

There's none abroad. "Then fetch our slaves." Thejr're gone.

Then hire a waterman." There's none. "Not one!"—

Nature's strong barrier scarcely now restrains

The baffled fu^ in their boiling veins!

Others there are, who centre all their bliss In the soft eunuch, and the beardless kiss: They need not from his chin avert their face. Nor use abortive drugs, for his embrace. But oh! their joys run high, if he be formed. When his full veins the fire of love has warmed; When every part's to full perfection reared. And nought of manhood wanting, but the beard.

[35]

■P^PiWWil»^»»i^P^^^ P ' I ii^^—^^-«^»W^^^ I I V

Bat should the dame in music take delight, i

The public singer is disabled quite; i

In vain the praetor guards him all he can;

She slips the bucUe, and enjoys her man.

Still in her hand his instrument is found.

Thick set with gems, that shed a lustre round;

Still o'er his lyre the ivory quill she flings.

Still runs divisions on the trembling strings.

The trembling strings, which the loved Hedymel ^

Was wont to strike— so sweetly, and so well!

These still she holds, with these she soothes her woes.

And kisses on the dear, dear wire bestows.

A noble matron of the Lamian line

Inquired of Janus, (offering meal and wine,) '

If Pollio, at the Harmonic Games, would speed.

And wear the oaken crown, the victor's meedt

What could she for a husband, more, have done.

What for an only, an expiring son?

Yes; for a harper, the besotted dame

Approached the altar, reckless of her fame.

And veiled her head, and, with a pious air.

Followed the Aruspez through the form of prayer;

And trembled, and turned pale, as he explored

The entrails, breathless for the fatal word!

A woman stops at nothing, when she wears Rich emeralds round her neck, and in her ears Pearls of enormous size; these justify Her faults, and make all lawful in her eye Sure, of all ills with which mankind are curst, A wife who brings you money is the worst Behold I her face a spectacle appears. Bloated, and foul, and plastered to the ears With viscous paste >— the husband looks askew. And sticks his lips in the detested glue. She meets the adulterer bathed, perfumed, and drest. But rots in filth at home, a very pest I For him she breathes of nard; for him alone She makes the sweets of Araby her own; For him, at length, she ventures to uncase. Scales the first layer of roughcast from her face. And, while the maids to know her now begin. Clears, with that precious milk, her frowzy skin. For which, though exiled to the frozen main. She'd lead a drove of asses in her train! But tell me yet; this thing, thus daubed and oiled. Thus poulticed, plastered, baked by turns and boiled,

[36]

Thus with pomattuns, ointments, lacquered o'er» !■ it a PACE, Unidins, or a SORE?

THE GARDEN OP PHYLLION

(From The Love SongM oi ArlMisenetOM, $bS A. D. Trans- lated by Richard Brinsley Sheridan)

DLEST was my lot— ah 1 sure 'twas bliss, my friend,

^ The day— -by heavens I the live-long day to spend

With Love and my Limonal Hence 1 in vain

Would mimic Fancy bring those scenes again;

In vain delighted memory tries to raise

My doubtful song, and aid my will to praise.

In vain I Nor fancy strikes, nor memory knows.

The little springs from whence those jojrs arose.

Yet come, coy Fancy, sympathetic maid I

Yes, I will ask, I will in^lore thy aid:

For I would tell my friend whate'er befell:

Whatever I saw, whate'er I did. Til teU.

But what I felt— «weet Venus I there inspire

My lay, or wrap his soul in all thy fire.

Bright rose the mom, and bright remained the day; The mead was spangled with the bloom of May: We on the bank of a sweet stream were laid. With blushing rose and lowly violets spread; Fast by our ride a spreading plane-tree grew. And waved its head, that shone with morning dew. The bank acclivous rose, and swelled abov^— The frixzled moss a pillow for my love. Trees with their ripened stores glowed all around. The loaded branches bowed upon the ground; Sure the fair virgins of Pomona's train In those glad orchards hold their fertile reign. The fruit nectareous, and the scented bloom Wafted on Zephyr's wing their rich perfume; A leaf I bruised — ^what grateful scents arose 1 Ye godsl what odours did a leaf disclose. Aloft each elm slow waved its dusky top. The willing vine embraced the sturdy lyrop: And while we strayed the ropened grape to find. Around our necks the claq;>ing tendrils twined; I with a smOe would tell the entangled fair, I envied e'en the vines a lodging there;

[37]

Then twist them off, and soothe with amorous play |

Her breasts, and kiss each rosy mark away. (

Cautious Limona trod^— her step was slow— ]

For much she feared the skulking fruits tread, j

Might tinge her snowy feet with vinous red. j

Around with critic glance we viewed the store. And oft rejected what we'd praised before;

This would my love accept, and this refuse, j

For varied plenty puzzled us to choose. Here may the bunches tasteless, immature. Unheeded learn to blush, and swell secure; In richer garb yon turgid clusters stand. And glowing purple tempts the plundering hand. Then reach 'em down," she said, "for you can reach.

M

And cuU, with daintiest hand, the best of each.

Pleased I obeyed, and gave my love— whilst she

Returned sweet thanks, and picked the best for me: .

eTwas pleasing siure— yet I refused her stiit.

But kissed the liberal hand that held the fruit

1

Hard by the ever- jovial harvest train Hail the glad season of Pomona's reign; ^

With rustic song around her fane they stand, ^

And lisping children join the choral band: 1

They busily intent now strive to aid, i

Now first thor're taught the hereditary trade: i

'TIS theirs to class the fruits in order due, 1

For pliant rush to search the meadow through; i

To mark if chance unbruised a wind-fall drop. Or teach the infant vine to know its prop. And haply too some aged sire is there. To check disputes, and give to each his share; With feeble voice their little work he cheers, Snules at their toil, and half forgets his years. Here let the pippin, fretted o'er with gold. In fosfring straw defy the winter's cold; The hardier russet here will safely keep, And dusky rennet with its crimson cheek; But mind, my boys, the mellow pear to place In soft enclosure, with divided space; And mindful most how lies the purple plum. Nor soil, with heedless touch, its native bloom."

Intent they listened to the instructing lord; But most intent to glean their reward.

Now turn, my loved Limona, turn and view How changed the scene I how elegantly newt

[38]

Mark how jon vintager enjoys his toil;

Glows with flush red« and Bacchandian smile:

His sl^p'ry sandals burst the luscious vine.

And splash alternate in the new-bom wine.

Nor far the lab'ring train, whose care supplies

The trodden press, and bids fresh plenty rise.

The teeming boughs that bend beneath their freight,

One busy peasant eases of the weight;

One climbs to where the aspiring summits shoot;

Beneath, a hoary sire receives the fruit.

Pleased we admired the jovial bustling throng. Blest e'en in toil I — ^but we admired not long. For calmer joys we left the busy scene. And sought the thicket and the stream again; For sacred was the fount, and all the grove Was hallowed kept^ and dedicate to love. . Soon gentle breezes, freshened from the wave. Our temples fanned, and whispered us to lave. The stream itself seem'd murm'ring at our feet Sweet invitation from the noon-day heat. We bathed — and while we swam, so clear it flowed. That every limb the crystal mirror showed. But my love's bosom oft deceived my eye. Resembling those fair fruits that glided by; For which I thought her swelling breast to clasp. An apple met my disappointed grasp. Delightful was the stream itself — I swear, By those glad nymphs who make the founts their care. It was delightful: — but more pleasing still. When sweet Limona sported in the rill: For her soft blush such sweet reflection gave. It tinged with rosy hues the pallid wave. Thus, thus delicious was the murm'ring spring. Nor less delicious the cool zephyr's wing; Which mild allayed the sun's meridian power. And swept the fragrant scent from every flower; A scent, that feasted my transported sense. Like that Limona's sweet perfumes dispense: But still, my Love, superior thine, I swear— At least thy partial lover thinks they are.

Near where we sat, full many a gladd'ning sound. Beside the rustling breeze, was heard around: The little grasshopper essayed its song. As if 'twould emulate the feathered throng: Still lisped it uniform— yet now and then It something chirped, and skipped upon the green.

[39]

Aloft the sprightly warblers filled the grove; j

Sweet native melody I sweet notes of lovel |

While nightingales their artless strains essayed, |

The air, methought, felt cooler in the glade: ^

A thousand feathered throats the chorus joined, ^

And held harmonious converse with mankind. j

i Still in mine ^e the sprightly songsters play, j

Sport on the wing, or twitter on the spray; j

On foot alternate rest their little limbs,

Or cool their pinions in the gliding streams; \

Surprise the worm, or sip the brook aloof, ]

Or watch the spider weave his subtle woof. — |

We the meantime discoursed in whispers low, j

Lest haply speech disturb the rural show.

Listen— Another pleasure I display, That helped delightfully the time away. !

From distant vales, where bubbles from its source A cnrstal rill, they dug a winding course: Seet through the grove a narrow lake extends. Crosses each plot, to each plantation bends; And while the fount in new meanders glides. The forest brightens with refreshing tides. Towards us they taught the new-bom stream to flow. Towards us it crept irresolute and slow: Scarce had the infant current trickled by. When lot a wondrous fleet attracts our eye: Laden with draughts might greet a monarch's tongue. The mimic navigation swam along. Hasten, ye ship-like goblets, down the vale. Your freight a flagon, and a leaf your safl. Oh may no envious rush thy course impede. Or floating apple stop thy tide-borne speed. His mildest breath a gentle zephsrr gave; The little vessels trimly stemmed the wave; Their precious merchandise to land they bore. And one by one resigned the balmy store. Stretch but a hand, we boarded them, and quaft With native luxury the tempered draught For where they loaded the nectareous fleet. The goblet flowed with too intense a heat; Cooled by degrees in these convivial ships. With nicest taste it met our thirsty lips.

Thus in delight the flowery path we trod To Venus sacred, and the rosy god:

[40]

Here might we kiss, here Love secure might reign. And revel free, with all his am'rous train.— And we did kisay my friend* and Love was there. And smoothed the mstic couch that held my fair. Like a spring-mead with scented blossoms crowned. Her head with choicest wreaths Limona bound: Bot Love, sweet Lovel his sacred torch so bright Had fanned, that, glowing from the rosy light, A Uush (the print of a connubial kiss, The conscious tattler of consummate bliss) Still flushed upon her cheek; and well might show The choicest wreaths she'd made, how they should glow; Might every flower with kindred bloom o'erspread. And tinge the vernal rose with deeper red.

But come, my friend, and share my happy lot: The bounteous PhyUicHi owns this blissful spot; Phyllion, whose gen'rous care to all extends, And most is blest while he can bless his friends. Then come, and quickly come; but with thee bring The nymph, whose praises oft I've heard thee sing— The blooming Myrtala; she'll not refuse To tread the solitude her swain shall choose. Thy sight will all my busy schemes destroy, 111 dedicate another day to joy. When social converse shall the scene improve. And sympathy bestow new charms on love. Then shall the accustom'd bank a couch be made; Once more the nodding plane shall lend its shade; Once more 111 view Pomona's jovial throng; Once more the birds shall raise the sprightly song; Again the little stream be taught to flow;

the little fleet its balm bestow;

111 ga2e upon Limona's charms, And sink transported in her quiVring arms; Again my cheek shall glow upon her breast; Again shell yield, and I again be blest

"WHEN I SEE THE FLOWERS ANEW"

{Tweliih Century French Song. Translated by Clauda

C. Abbott)

TX7HBN I see the flowers anew

^^ Peeping where the meadows grew. And I hear the fountain spring

[41]

Murmur on the graveOing,

Then young love holds ine in thrallt

Which has never healing:

If relief come not at all

I must bide death's

I am dark and fair to see, Young in my virginity, Rose my colour is and white. Pretty mouth and green mine eyes; And my breast it pricks me so I may not endure it, For I meddle me to know Love, and naught can cure it

Certes, if I met a man Who stood in the way I ran, Predy would I love, for none Should I ever leave that one. Often have I heard relate And for truth to tell. No one has a joy paiiaite But comes of loving well."

Straight toward the wench I went For to be with her acquent; And I saw her white and fair. And her look was debonaire. Nor did she a whit forget Any word I spake her. Now without delay or let For her love I prayed her.

Her bare hand I took, the maid On the thick green grass I laid: She cried out, to me she swore Of my play she held no store: 'Take away your lechery; May God tn^y shame iti 'Tis too rough and harsh for me, I can never wame it."

"Sweet love, my pretty maid. Wherefore now are you afraid? For you do not know a mite How this is a merry life. Mother did not for it die. That yon know right truly,

[42]

Nor win ywi the daughter, why Do you fear unduly?"

When I had swived her maidenhood. And upon her feet the stood. All aloud to me she cried '^ell am I escaped your side: Thirteen years since, I was bom As I rightly know; Never had I other mom That I loved so.'*

"WHEN MAY IS COME'*

{Tweiith Century French Song. Translated by Claude

C. Abbott)

TTT'HSN May is come and roses open wide, ^^ From them I went to pluck in friendly wise. Near to an abbey, by a green wood side, A little space I heard sweet voice confide:

"I fed the sweet pains 'neath my girdle run; Cursed of God be thQr who made me nuni

Who made me nun, by Jesu cursed be I Vespers, complines, I speak unwillingly; For better far love I good company Which knows of dalliance and jollity.

I feel the sweet pains 'neath my girdle run; Cursed of God be they who made me nun I"

She spoke aloud: my heart is sick with fear; Ah God I who mewed me in this abbey drear? But by our Lady I will out from here, Nor gown nor surplice will I ever wear.

I feel the sweet pains 'neath my girdle run. Cursed of God be they who made me nun!

I will command my own dear love that he Come seek me in this abbey speedily. We will to Paris, live right merrily, For I am young, a comely man is he.

[43]

I feel the sweet pains 'neath my girdle nm. Cursed of God be they who made me nunr

When her lover had this her speaking heard. He leapt for joy, the heart within him stirred, Towards the abbey gate straightway he sparred. And drew his dear love forth without a word.

^I fed the sweet pains 'neath my girdle run. Cursed of God be thQr who made me nunl"

"WHOSO LOVE LIMB TO LIMB"

iTwetith Century French Song. Translated by Claude

C. Abbott)

ON Saturday at eve, the long week done' Gaiete and Oriour, blood-sisters, come Small hand in hand, to bathe where waters run.

Whispering wind and brandies meet. Whoso love limb to limb deq;> sweet

Young Gerairt wending from the tilting ring. Spied Gaiete stood beside the fountain spring. Took her between his arms, softly they ding.

Whispering wind and brandies meet. Whoso love limb to limb deep sweet

'^When you have drawn the water, Oriour,

Turn bade again, you know the town, for sure:

With Gerairt I remain, none loves me more."

Whispering wind and branches meet. Whoso love limb to limb sleep sweet

Now Oriour is pale, and sad her eyes.

From them she goes a-weeping, and she sighs

When dster Gale with her no longer hies.

Whispering wind and branches meet. Whoso love limb to limb deep sweet

[44]

Why was I bom, weeps Oriour, woe's mel I Uit my sister in the deep valley. Yomig Gerairt takes her to his own conntry.

wind and branches meet. Whoso love limb to limb sleq;> sweet

Gerairt and Gaiete turned themselves away. Right straight toward his city took their way: No sooner come than there he married Gaie.

Whispering wind and branches meet, Whoso love limb to limb sleep sweet

Sweet lover mine, I cannot make believe. With all my heart I love you, nor deceive And you may kiss me over when you please^ Within your arms fain would I find mine ease.

God, how the name of love is sweet. Ne'er thought I to have dole of it"

Her lover takes her in his arms' reach. In a fine bed they lay them, each to each: Bele Yoland kisses him as clings a leech. And they lie bedded as their bodies tesch.

God, how the name of love is sweet: Ne'er thought I to have dole of it

HYMN TO THE KISS (By Johannes Secundns. Translated by George Ogle)

r\ CHOICSST gift of heav'nly kind! ^^ O, sacred source of joy refin'dl Thou latent spring, whose vast control Extends throughout the boundless whole! Attraction strong I all-powerful cause. Enforcing Nature's hidden laws I Thou magic lightning, that canst bum What-e'er you touch, where-e'er you turn I Touch but the lips, and you dispense

[45]

■^"•^p^^pw^^^^^^-^^^w^^^^f™^

The brisk alarm thro' ev'ry sense: Comep hover round my tuneful lyre. And ev'ry swelling note inspire; So shall the warmth my strains ejqjiress Thy rapture-giving pow'r confess.

U

To those, who own your gentle sway. You darts of pleasing flame convey; Your kindling sparks, that ne'er can die, Blind Cupid's burning torch supply: How dull the spring of life wou*d prove. Without the kiss that waits on lovel Youth first to thee its homage pays. Becomes enlighten'd from thy rays; And, hast'ning by your fosf ring fires The birth of all the gay desires. From youthful lips you soon receive The richest harvests lips can give.

Ill

Far from the world's more glaring eye. What crowds of wretched beings lie; Who seem in dull oblivion doom'd For ever to remain entomb'dl To them no zephjrr's balmy wing Refreshing gales, or sweets can bring; No rip'ning crops of golden grain For them adorn the waving plain: Yet, thy persuasive magic binds To this terrestrial orb their minds; And bids them, in their gloomy state. Smile, nor regret their piteous fate.

IV

The flow'rs, that in yon meadow grow, To thee their bloom, their fragrance owe; The blossom'd shrubs, in gaudy dress. Thy genial warmth, thy pow'r confess; The stream, that winds along the grove. And courts the shore with waves of love. Is taught by thee the fond embrace. By thee is taught each rural grace: On gently-parted lips, say, why Is plac'd the rose's beauteous dye?

[46]

Became, on tiiat soft teat of bliia Abides the rosy-breatfaing kiss.

Let rigid scruple furl her brow.

And blame the comforts yon bestow:

The sage, the hero, thee obey;

Nay» legislators own thy sway.

See, threatening Caesar momits his car.

To join th' embattled sons of war;

Swift from the capitol he flies»

And ev^ry hostile warrior dies:

But soon he qnits the bleeding plain,

With transport hugs fair beauty's chain.

And, e'en beneath his laurel's shade.

Caresses many a Roman maid.

VI

Could Mahomet, whose dauntless soul

Superior rose to all control.

Whose breast was fir^d with hope sublime.

Who thought that ignorance and crime

Were destin'd o'er this globe f have reign'd;

Could that stem victor have sustain'd

The harsh, fatiguing toil of arms;

Had not his houris' soothing charms,

And tender kisses, lull'd to rest

The martial tumults of his breast;

If the seraglio of this earth

Had not to those sweet joys giv'n birth.

Which, in the paradise of love.

The prophet hop'd to taste above?

VII

But tow'ring domes, that strike the ores With outward grandeur, you despise; There stormy passions govern sense. And banish tender feelings thence. Say, couldst thou weU-contented lie On Iqm with shrivell'd coldness dry. On lips, that no bright purple wearl But pal'd by sickness, or by care? The gilded ceilings, beds of state. The gaudy chambers of the great, Th' embroider'd cushions they diq>lay. Must fright the gentle kiss away.

[47]

vni

Fly to the rural, shadowy dells: There peace in calm retirement dwells; And, underneath the beech's shade. Thy am'rous secrets are displayed; There, on the hay-mow, or the grass. Sport the fond youth, and fonder lass; There, unconstrain'd in frolic play, A kiss they lend, a kiss repay; Pleasures so numerous round them flow. Envy can ne'er the number know; Nor are the lips' sweet joys deny'd By prudes, affecting virtuous pride.

IX

Tho' tempted hence your flight to take. My humble mansion ne'er forsake; To you if constant I remain. Let kindness recompense my painl Around my youth fresh fiow'rets shed. Till age shall silver o'er my head; Then softly fan my drooping fires. And wake the half -extinct desires: So majrst thou, in thy wand'rings, meet Young innocence, who smiles so sweet I And may she all-submissive prove. To thee, the guiltless guest of love I

So may the nymph of gay fifteen. By strict maternal eyes unseen. To some sequester'd grove retire; There, reading, nurse her infant fire; Free from a parent's stem control. Explore her newly-op'ning soul; And riot o'er my am'rous page. Soft-yielding to voluptuous rage I So may sweet dreams of rapt'rous joy Her pleasing slumbers oft employ; Till many a fond, illusive kiss Shall almost realise the bliss I

[4B]

A LOVE SONG FROM INDIA ^

(Voyage mu Pmy% 4u Hmacblcb: Jacolliott Paris, 1883)

Maiden

Oht my loved one» I know not what fire consnznei me, my month in parched, my heart is throbbing. What is this ill for which I know no cure? The star of night whose rays should give my soul repose by heralding the advent of him for whom I wait, has not yet risen. . . . Unhappy that I am, he for whom my heart is watching, whom my lips desire, from whom my parched bosom longs to receive life, will not come.

I said to myself: I will tread the lotus-bordered path. . • . But Blast I have found there the serpent of love and his cruel tooth. Can it be that the moon's rays, so cold by nature and so sweet to mortals, have lit the fire which consumes me within?

The night-breeze, cool, and heavy with the scent of flow- ers, seems to me now like a scorching flame. He alone occu- pies an my thoughts and I have no will but his. He fills my whole being, and my soul is bereft of energy and strength*

I tremble and am distraught; my sight fails me and I fed as though about to die.

The Lover

Sweet one, I am here, and scarcely yet does the moon, whose shining orb should be the signal of my coming, begin to show herself. And see, yon fair planet whose brightness is revealed in thy dear face, now is veiled by clouds, like thy face when shaded with the tresses of thy hair. Her disc stands forth like a bow in the heavens and resembles the gleaming gold which decks thy neck.

The streams of water which fall from the clouds are as slender and graceful as thy limbs.

On the dark background of the clouds a long line of swans advances rivalled in whiteness by thy dassling teeth.

^Throoghoat Hindustan, no orgie of love is ever oommenoed without the recitation of thia vc^uptuous song after an invocation of the Dawn and of the Sun: the two personages in the Hindoo Pantheon whose office it ia to lavish on mortals all good, all wealth and all fortune.

The voung and lovely Nourmah complied with thia custom.

To tnis invocation succeeded a love song sustained by two voicei. A second dancing girl appeared; her office it was, disguised as a youth, to reply to Nounnan in uternate straina.

Monrmah commenced the song.

[40]

The Maid

OhI light of my life, speak on, apeak on; the sound of thy voice ia aa welcome to my heart aa cooling ahowers to a aun-dried land.

The Lover

I thhrst for thy kiaaea; let me lay my lipa on thine which are aa freah and ruddy aa the pomegranate.

The Maid

Ahl I die within thine arms.

The Lover

Let me press thy lovely breaats^ firm aa the golden applea in the garden of Cama and sweet to smell aa the jaamine- flower.

The Maid

I am thine, oh my loved one; in thy embrace, mine eyes are lost in vacancy and life b^;ina to leave me; oh^ holy Goddeas, Lakme, Mother of Love, does one feel such plcMure in dying of love?

The Lover

No, thou wilt not die; 'tis life which m long wavea aurgea into thine entraila athirst for pleasure.

The Maid

OhI ohI ohI my loved one!

The Lover Still let me embrace thee.

The Maid

I am one with thee; ahl preas me tighter in thhie anna and let an amorous embrace unite us like the tree and bark.

The Lover

I fear leat I may hurt thy fair breasts or bruise thy delicate limbs.

[50]

The ICaid

Have no fear ... go on, mj lion, let me feel tfaj vigoor, pierce me aa the huntaman piercea with hia arrow the hearta of the faithful hind in the thicketa . • • pain givea atiU a greater aeat to pleaaure.

The Lover

OhI joy divinel And I am the firat to roll thy aweet body on a bed of dried leavea • . .

The Maid

Kin me» come» kin me by pleaaore, kin me by love» kffl me by joy.

The Lover

Nay, rather live, in order that we may repeat theae houra ol maddeat paaaion.

The Maid

OhI kin me rather than forget me.

The Lover

. Forget theel forget theel ahl read in mine eyea the wfld pleaaore which thou giveat me.

The Maid

Ahl what ia thia atrange quivering . . . ?

The Lover Tia the pleaaore of love.

The Maid

My head awima, my Upa grow cold • . • Cama, mighty God, help met I am dying.

The Lover

Nol for a new life begina to circulate in thy womb.

[51]

Tb« Maid Where am I, ye Gods?

The Lover

Fear naught, for I am near thee.

The Maid I am afraid.

The Lover What canst thou dread within thy lover's arms?

The Maid Ahy I remember . . . thy kisses bum me stiU; leave me not

The Lover I watch over thee as a mother watches over her child.

The Maid The horrid Pisatchas may play me some evil trick.

The Lover Th^ can do naught to thee here iipon my heart

The Maid

Sfaig to me» my loved one» for the sound of thy voice gives me confidence*

The Lover

• Tis the season the most propitious for love, the leaves are

fallen into the pools and cover the waters once so bright and limpid and now dulled by the streams; these clouds, driven by the wind and on which the moonlight plays, clash together in the air like elephants fighting in the forest with their

^ggglltig tusks.

The Maid

And it is the strongest which overcomes the others in the forest glade. And so thou hast made me yield to thee on this bed of dried leaves.

Th« Lover

I !»▼• won thee by love, not overcoming thee by force.

The Maid

Yet believe me, my loved one, that love I0 willing to find itself tuned and subdued by force.

The Lover

I know of no time more {propitious for love than this stormy season which so often sees the seven-coloured bow appearing in the sky, like the sacred sign which crowns thy forehead. At sight of the stormy sky, the peacocks loudly voice their joy, uttering shrill cries and gathering together; they rear aloft their tail heavy and shapeless with the rain, and prancing beside their companions, imitate the movements of a dancer. Some, under the shelter of the terraces, stalk proudly and display the varied colours of their brilliant plumage; while others, caught by the storm on the tops of the trees, gather the treasures of their plumage beneath their moistened wings, and, their fair body all quivering, descend to the green carpet of the ground.

The rain ceases for an instant, and all around the soft fresh air is balmy with the scent of sandal and filled with the intoxi- cating perfumes of Eastern flowers, a delicious air which dries the sweat of pleasure on our limbs and foretells a fr«ih fall of rain to follow. What would autumn be, deprived of this beneficent breeze? No, there is nothing to be preferred to this perfumed wind which comes to disturb the calm of our tnterconrse, and, after the sweet fatigue of love, gentiiy re- freshes our burning limbs.

The Maid Ohl sing again.

The Lover

See, my sweetest, the heaven laden with clouds, like some deep lake hung above our heads whose waters threaten each instant to break their banks; see too these clouds which the moon encircles with a silvern girdle; they bring coolness to this parched earth.

Ohl how I love this season of the year, bringing in its train the thunder and the storm; it wakes fond lovers horn their slumber, and compels them to seek a shelter from their

[53]

w^^F-^^^^mmmmm^r^^m ' m m. i^p^^^^ ■« i ^—^^^^^pip

fear in one another't arms, and thua doubles the transports of their love.

The Maid

Ohl my dearest, my sweetest, who are to my soul as the doud to the tiiirsty earth, this season has one defect, for with a damp and gloomy vdl it hides from our gaze that moon which shines like thy fair face. When that planet, the world's sweet torch, is revealed between the clouds, the fascinated watcher seems to see a friend come back from the far-off land. The moon is the witness of the groans of the maid separated from her lover. Oh, moon I thou charm of secret meetings, how fair thou art when the lover remains faithful and hastens to his mistress at the appointed hour; how sad and gloomy when the abandoned mistress follows thy course with her eyes, as she counts the hours which slowly pass, when the faidiless lover has forgotten her whom once he loved*

The Lover

My fife's charm, my beloved, I swear that thou shall never count those hours, I swear that thou shall never have cause to follow with lonely ^es the course of the moon, and that thy lover shall always come before the hour of meeting.

The Maid

Ahl I need to hear thine oadis; swear that thou wilt never leave me.

The Lover

I swear to love thee always, and may my soul take life again in the body of a vampire, whose only food is the bodies of those whom he drags from their tombs, if I ever fail to my oath.

The Maid

I believe thee, beloved one.

The Lover

Come let us enter again this shady ddl and seal our vows with fresh kisses.

[54]

AN AMOROUS DIALOGUE BETWEEN JOHN

AND HIS MISTRESS

Here by this dimlofue yoa may ditcem,

While old cats nibble cheese, the yotmf ones leuni.

{Roxbargbe BMsida, 157^-76)

^OME, John, tit thee down, I have somewhat to My» ^^ In my mind I have kept it this many a day. Your master you know is a Fool, and a Sot, And minds nothing else but the Pipe and the Pot Till twelve or till one he will never come home, And then he's so drunk that he lies like a Mome: Such usage as this would make any one mad. But a Woman will have it if 'tis to be had.

TSs true forsooth, mistris, the case is but hard.

That a woman should be of her pleasure debarred:

Bat 'tis the sad fate of a thousand beside,

Or else the whole City is fouly belied:

There is not a man amoung twenty that thrives.

Not ten in fifteen that do lie with their Wives:

Yet still you had better be merry than sad.

And take it wherever it is to be had.

But John, 'tis a difficult matter to find, A man that is trusty and constantly kind: An Inns-of-Court Gallant he cringes and bows. He's presently known by his Oaths and his Vows, And though both his doaths and his speeches be gay. Yet he loves you but only a night and away: Such usage as this would nuke any one mad. Yet a woman will have it, if 'tis to be had

What think you of one that belongs to the Court, They say th^ are youthful, and given to sport: He^U present you with brackets, and jewels, and rings. With stones that are precious and twenty fine things; Or if you are not for the Court nor the Town, What think you forsooth of a man with a Gown?

You must have a gaUant, a good or a bad,

And take it where ever it is to be had.

THE SECOND PART

No, John, I confess that not any of these. Had ever the power my fancy to please;

[55]

I like no such blades for a trick that I know. For as toon as they've trod tfaey are given to crow; Plain dealing is best, and I like a man well. That when he has kissed will be hanged ere hell tell: My meaning is honest, and thou art the Lad, Then give it and take it where 'tis to be had.

Alasl my dear mistris, it never can be. That you can affect such a fellow as me: Yet heaven forbid, since I am but your man, I should ever refuse to do all I can; But then if my master should know what we've done. We both should be blown up as sure as a Gun: For after our joys, he would make us sad. For taking it where it ought not to be had.

But how should he know it, thou scrupulous Elf, Do'st think I'm so silly to tell him my self? If we are but so wise our own counsel to keep. We may laugh and lye down while the sot is asleep: Some hundreds I know in the city that use To give to their men what their masters refuse; The man is the master, the Prentice the Dad, For women must take it where 'tis to be had.

Some Prentices use it, forsooth, I allow. But I am a Novice and cannot tell how: However, I hope that I shall not be blamed. For to tell you the truth I am somewhat asham'd; I know how to carry your Bible to church. But to play with my mistris I'm left in the lurch: Yet if you can shew me the way good or bad, 111 promise you all that there is to be had.

Alas, pritty mistris, the pleasure is such.

We never can give one another too much:

If this be the business the way is so plain,

I think I can easily find it again:

• Twas thus we began; and • . • Thus we lye down.

And thus ... Oh thusi that we fell in a swoun:

Such sport to refuse who was ever so mad,

111 take it where ever it is to be had.

Now, Johnny, you talk like an ignorant mome. You can have such pleasures no where but at home. Here's fifty broad pieces for what you have done. But see that you never a gadding do run:

[56]

For no new employment then trouble your braint» For here when yon work you'll be paid for your pains: But should you deceive me no woman so sad. To lose all the pleasure that once she has had.

A mistris so noble I never will leave,

Twere a sin and a shame such a friend to deceive;

For my Master's shop no more will I care,

Tis pleasanter handling my mistris's ware:

A fig for Indentures, for now I am made

Free of a Gentler and pleasanter trade:

I know when Tm well, I was never so mad. To forsake a good thing when 'tis to be had.

(ANOTHER VERSION)

BILLY AND HIS MISTRESS

(Anonymous. 1684. From Bagiord BMmda. Pt. Ill)

COME sit thee down, Billy, I have something to say. In my mind I have kept it this many a day; Your master, you Imow, is a fool and a sot. And nothing he minds but the pipe and the pot: And if they pursue us to the garret well fly 111 pull off my pateens, and on my back lie.

Till twelve or till one he seldom comes home. And then he's so drunk that he lies like a drone; Such usage as this would make anyone mad, And a woman must have it where 'tis to be had: And if they pursue us, etc.

O my dearest Mistress, this never can be. That you should affect such a fellow as me; But heaven forbid, though I am but your man. That I should refuse to do all that I can: And if th^ pursue us, etc.

Your master's diseased with gout and with And nothing he can do but pull down his breeches; And then he stands shaking as though he was dead. And so like a woodcock he hangs down his head: And if th^ pursue us, etc.

[57]

O my deareit Mistresa, I cannot deny. For I find msrself able your wants to supply; And if you'll support me with coin and with caah. Well drink while my master shall bray like an ass: And if th^ pursue us» etc

my Billy, now do not mistrust. In pocket and placket to thee I'll be just; Keep touch with your master, and then you shall see. We'll make his bags fly all where ever he be: And if th^ pursue us, etc

O my dearest Mistress, but here lies the touch. My wife at our pleasure will grumble and gmtch; She hath a quick eye, and her passion is strong. Shell shake our foundation or ere it be long: And if th^ pursue us, etc

my dearest Billy, why dost thou love she. If thou dost; Billy, tfiou canst not love me; For I never knew it all the dajrs of my life. That any man loved both his whore and his wife:

And if th^ pursue us, etc

To make him a cuckold none's fitter than thee, For the fool won't believe it although he doth see; A pint of burnt brandy, a pipe, and a coal. Here's a good health to Billy and to Billy's hole: And if th^ pursue us, etc'

What though I do fight and endeavor to kill. Yet my brave Billy will take my part still; And I will do with him as long as I can. So long as I know he's a lusty young man: And if they pursue us, etc

1 diank thee now, Billy, for my flat fish And long did I think it ere I had my wish; And if we do meet at the Birdmin'Hand door. Well call for a room, and well dance on the floor:

And if they pursue us, etc

Then Billy's wife she looked in at the door. What a devil, quoth she, do you down on the floor? A dressing of flounders which you sent me last What a devil, quoth she, do you make sauce with your arse? And if th^ pursue us, etc

[58]

As for our neighbon tfa^ are but all f oola. To meddle or make, because we use our own tools; Pray then will you tell me, wherefore they were made, And if to use 'em we should be afraid; And if th^ pursue us, etc.

As for the small Hobnails, I have had none of those. To spoil my cold face, nor to hurt my red nose; The great ones are they which I most do fear. If they come bdow they will spoil my best ware: And if th^ pursue us, etc

And still well be merry, and leave off all passion, I had rather be dead fhaa to live out ci fashion; My father and mother th^ were of that trade. And I for that purpose so brazen was made; And if th^ pursue us, etc

But as for the Garret, we'll come no more there. For why? They do keep an old screeching chair; Beside that, the woman's a blab of her tongue^ And well find out another place ere it be long:

And if they pursue us they shall ne'er find us out, And yet we are resolved to have.tiie other bout

IN THE FOREST OF ARDEN (By Michael Drayton. From PaMtoraia^ X593)

Farre in the Forrest of Arden,

There dwelt a Knight hight Caaalmen,

As bold as iaeabraa: Fell he was and eager bent In battaile and in Tumament,

As was the good Sr. Topas.

He had (as Antique stories tell) A daughter deped Dowsabeii,

A Maiden faire and free. Who, cause she was her fathers heire, FuU well she was y-tought the leire

Of micUe courtesie.

[59]

The Silke wdl could ihe twist and twme, And make the fine Marchpme,

And with the needle work. And she could help the Priest to say His Mattins on a Holy-day,

And sing a Psalme in Kirk.

Her Frocke was of the frolique Green, (Mought well become a Mayden Queen)

Which seemely was to see: Her Hood to it was neat and fine. In colour like the Columbine,

T-wrought full featuously.

This Maiden in a mome betime.

Went forth when May was in her prime.

To get sweet Scettuall, The HonysucUe, the Hordock, The Lilly, and the Ladies-Smock,

To dight her sununer HaU.

And as she romed here, and tiiere, Y-picking of the bloomed brier,

She chanced to espie A Shepheard sitting on a bank, Like Chantideere— he crowed crank.

And piped with merry glee.

He leerd his Sheep as he him list. When he would whistle in his fist.

To feed about him round, Whilst he f uU many a CaroU sung. That all the fields, and meadowes rung.

And made the woods resound.

In favour this same Shepheard Swaine Was like the Bedlam Tamerlaine,

[60]

That kept proud Kings in awe» But meek he was as meek mought be^ Tea like the gentle AbcJl, he

Whom hia lewd brother slew.

This Shepheard wore a freeze-gray Cloake, The which was of the finest locke»

That could be cut with Sheere: His Anle and Lingell in a Thong,

Tar-box by a broad belt hung.

His Cap of Minivere.

xo

Mittens were of Bausons sldn. His Cockers were of Cordowin,

His Breech of country blew: All curie, and crisped were his Locks, His brow more white than Albion Rocks:

So like a Lover true.

XX

And piping he did spend the day. As merry as a Popinjay,

Which lik'd faire Dowsabell, That wod she ought, or wod she nought, The Shepheard would not from her thought.

In love she longing fell:

Xfl

With that she tucked up her Frock, (White as the Lilly was her Smock,)

And drew the Shepheard nigh. But then the Shepheard pip'd a good. That all his Sheep forsook their food.

To heare his melody.

IS

Thy Sheep (quoth she) cannot be lean. That have so faire a Shepheard Swain,

That can his Pipe so well: I but (quoth he) the Shepheard may. If Piping thus he pine away.

For love of DowaabeiL

[6x]

Of love (fond boy) take thou no keep» Look wdl (quoth she) unto thy Sheep;

Lest they should chance to stray. So had I done (quoth he) full well. Had I not seen faire Dowsabeltg

Come forth to gather May,

15

I cannot stay (quoth she) till night. And leave my Summer Hall undight.

And all for love of men. Yet are you, quoth he, too unkind. If in your heart you cannot find.

To love us now and then.

x6

And I will be to thee aa Und, As CoUin was to Rosalinde,

Of courtesie the flower. And I will be as true (quoth she) As ever Lover yet moi^^ht be,

Unto her Paramour.

With that the Maiden bent her knee, Down by the Shepheard kneeled she.

And sweetly she him kist But then the Shepheard whoop'd for joy, (Quoth he) was never Shepheard boy,

That ever was so blist

A FRIEND OF MINE (AaoBymons^ Before 1600. Percy m Poiio Maa. Vol. IV)

A FRIEND of mine not long ago desired at my hands Some pretty toy to move delight to those that hearers stand. [62]

TIm wbich I inaaa to gratify

by all the means I may. And move delight in every wight

that with affection stay.

Some thought to prove wherein I ihoiild

these several hwnors please, The which to do» reason f orbids»

but I should some displease; But since my muse doth pleasure Chuse»

and thereon bends her sldU, Whereby I may drive time away»

and sorrows q:uite beguilSi

It was my Chance, not long ago»

by a pleasant wood to walk, Where I unseen of any one

did hear two lovers talk; And as these lovers forth did pass,

hard by a pleasant shade. Hard by a mighty Pine tree ^ere,

their resting place th^ made.

Insooth,** then did this young man say,

^I thinks this fragrant place Was only made for lovera true

each other to embrace.** He took her by the middle smsll^—

good sooth I do not mock,r- Not meaning to do asqr thing

but to puU up her: smo: block.

Whereon she sat, jKwr siUy soul,

to rest her weary boiies. This maid she was no whit afraid,

but she caught him fast by the: stones:

thumbs; Whereat he ve<t and grieved was,

so that his flesh did wrinkle; This maid she was no whit afraid,

but caught him fast hold by the pintle

pimple.

Which he had on his chin likewise;*-

but let that pimple pass^— There is no man here but he may suppose

^e were a merry lass. He boldly ventured, being tall,

yet in his speech but Uuni

[«3]

He never ceast, but took up all,

and caught her 1^ the — : plumpe.

And red rose lipg he kist full sweet:

quoth ahe, ^I crave no aucour.'* Which made him to have a mighty mind

to clip, kiss, and to — pluck her Into his arms. "^Nayl softr quoth she,

^hat needeth all this doing? For if you will be ruled by me,

you shall use small time in wooing.

For I will lay me down," quoth she,

'^ipon the slippery segs. And all my clothes 111 truss iq;> round. And spread abroad my legs: eggs. Which I have in my apron here

under my girdle tuckt; So shall I be most fine and brave,

most ready to be — duckt

Unto some pleasant apringing well;

for now its time of the year To deck, and bathe, and trim ourselves

both head, hands, feet and gear."

A MAIDENHEAD

(Anoaymotts. Before 1600. Pc cy^j Poiio Mbm, Vol. IV)

COMB^ sit thee- down by t' ese Cool streams Never yet warmed by 7 ans beams! My tender youdi thy waist siiall dip. And fix upon thy Cherry lip; And lay thee down on this green bed. Where thou shalt lose thy maidenhead.

See how the little Phillip Sparrow, Whose joints do over-flow with marrow, On yonder bough how he doth prove With his mate the joys of love. And doth instruct thee, as he doth tread, How thou shalt lose thy maidenhead.

O you younglings, be not nice I Coyness in maids is such a vice,

That if in you^ you do not marry. In age young men will let you tarry. By my persuasion then be led. And lose in time thy maidenhead.

Clothes that embroidered be with gold.

If never worn, will quickly mold;

If in time you do not pluck

The damisine or the Apricot,

In pinching Autumn thee'U be dead;

Then lose in time thy maidenhead I

WHEN SCORCHING PHOEBUS (Anonymons. Before i6oo. Percy* b Polio Mn, Vol. IV)

TXTHBN scorching Phoebus he did mount,— ^^ Tous-jour bon temps,r* Then Lady Venus went to hunt,

Parmi les champs. To whom Diana did resort, \^th an the Ladies of hills and valleys,

of springs and floods. To show where all the princely sport, \^tii hound imbrued, and hearts pursued,

through groves and wads.

This tender hearted 4^ tvers Queen,—

Tons-jour bon .emps^— Such wand'ring spe^ had seldoin seen, "^

Parmi les cha>'%s. She took no pleasui^ in the same, To see hounds merry, and poor hearts weary

for want of breath, Quoth she, ""I like better that game Where ladies beauties do pay their duties

to love's sweet death."

The air was hot, and she was dry,—

Tous-jour bon temps,— To Bacchus court she fast did hi^-

Parmi les champs. Her faint and weary heart (to) cherish. Which was so fired, that she desired

To quench her thirst,

[65]

And crted, Help Bacchm, or tlae I periahf Who still did hold her, and plainly told her he wocdd Idas her &st.

Then Baochoa with a power divine^—

Tons-jonr hon tenips,r— Himself tamed to a butt of wine,-^

Panni lea champs,-* And bade this la<l^ drink her fill. And take her pleasure in any meaaure,

and make no waste; And gave her leave to anck the qoill. Which was sp r i te fu l and delightfal

onto her taste.

At last this butt did run a tilt—

Tons- jour bon temps,;— Quoth she, One drop shall not be spilt,

Parmi lea champa. For it doth pleaaing taste so well. My heart doth will me for to fill me

of iSbm sweet Whie; I would that I might always dwell In this fair Arborl here'a ao good harbor,

and pleaaant wine."*

She drunk ao long, ere she had done,—

Tous-jonr bon lsi>s< Her belly swelled like a tun,

Parmi lea champs. At last she fell in pieces twain; And bflu aaunder, appeared a wonder,

Qod PryspusI Yet fain ahe would have drunk again; And oft did viait, and much solicit

God Biacchus.

His empty cask would yield no more^—

Tous-jour bon temps,— For she had sucked it fi^ sore,

Parmi lea champs. Quoth she, Qod Bacchus, change thy shape; vcT now thy rigour, and all thy vigour.

Is dean decayed. Behold thou here this new bom babe, Who when he is proved, he^ be beloved

of wife and maid.**

Tbit beDy god that would be drank—

Tous-jour bon temps^— And being a goddess, proved a pnnl^

Panni lea champs. Her lusty bastard stiff and strong. Was made and framed, and also named,

god Bacchus heir. He had a nose 3 handful Long, With one eye bleared, and all besmeared

about with hair.

He is the god of rich and poor^-

Tous-jonr bon tenips;— He openeth every woman's door,

Parmi lea champs. He ceaseth all debate and strife. And gently appeaseth, and sweetly pleaseth

the hungry womb. He is the joy twizt man and wife; He pleasure lasteth, and sweeter tasteth

than honey comb.

Now an yon nice and dainty dames,—

Tous-jour bon temps,— To use this god, think it no shame,

Parmi lea chanqra* Then let my speeches not offend, Tho you be gaudy, and I be bawdy

and want a rodi Good deeda shall speeches fault amend When you are willing for to be billing

with this sweet god.

A COURTLY NEW BALLAD OF THE

PRINCELY WOOING OF THE FAIR MAID

OF LONDON BY KING EDWARD

(Anonymoas. From The Roxburghe BaNads, Vol. I. 1874)

ipAIR Angel of England! thy beauty most bright ^ Is all my heart's treasure, my joy and delight; Then grant me, sweet Lady, itxy true Love to be. That I may say welcome, good fortune, to me.

The Turtle, so true and chaste in her love. By gentle persuasions her fancy will move;

[67]

Then be not intreated, tweet Lady, in Tain, For Nature requireth what I would obtain.

What Phoenix so fair, that liveth alone,

Is vowed to chastity, being but one;

But be not, my Darling, so chaste in desire.

Lest thou, like the Phoenix, do penance in fire.

But alas I (galhuit Lady) I pity thy state. In being resolved to live without mate; For if of our courting the pleasure you knew You shall have a liking the same to ensue.

Long time have I sued the same to obtain. Yet I am requited with scornful disdain; But if you will grant your good will to me. You shall be advanced to Prince^ degree.

Promotions and honours may often entice The chastest that liveth, though never so nice: What woman so worthy but will be content To live hi the Palace where Princes frequent?

Two brides, young and prmcely, to Church have I led; Two Ladies most lovely have decked my bed; Yet hath thy love taken more root in my heart Than all their contentments whereof I had part

Your gentle hearts cannot men's tears much abide. And women least angry when most they do chide; Then yield to me kindly, and say that at length Men do want mercy, and poor women strength.

I grant that fair Ladies may poor men resist. But Princes will conquer and love whom they list; A King may command her to lie by his side. Whose feature deserveth to be a King's Bride.

In granting your love you shall purchase renown, Your head shall be decked with England's fair crown. Thy garment most gallant with gold shall be wrought If true love for treasure of thee may be bought.

Crreat Ladies of honour shall 'tend on thy train. Most richly attired with scarlet ingrain: My chamber most Princely thy person shall keep. Where Virgins with music shall rock thee asleep.

[68]

If any more pleasures thy heart can invent. Command them, sweet Lady, thy mmd to content; For Kings' gallant Conrts, where Princes do dweU, Afford such sweet pastimes as Ladies love weKL

Then be not resolved to die a true Maid, But i>rint in thy bosom the words I have said; And grant a King favour thy true love to be. That I may say, welcome, sweet Virgin, to me.

THE PAIR MAID OP LONDON'S ANSWER TO KING EDWARD'S WANTON LOVE

Oh, wanton King Edward, thy Labour is vain

To follow the pleasure thou canst not attain.

Which getting, thou losest, and having, dost waste it,

The which if thou purchase, is q;>oiled if thou hast it

But if thou obtainst it, thou nothing hast won;

And I, losing nothing, yet quite am undone;

But if of that Jewel a King do deceive me.

No King can restore, though a Kingdom he give me.

My colour is changed, since you saw me last; My favour is vanished, my beauty is past; The Rose's red blushes that sate on my cheeks To paleness are turned, which all men mislikes.

I pass not what Princes for love do protest. The name of a Virgin contenteth me best; I have not deserved to sleep by thy side. Nor to be accounted for Khig Edward's bride.

The name of a Princess I never did crave. No such tip of honour thy hand-maid will have; My breast shall not harbour so lofty a thought, Nor be with rich proffers to wantonness brought

If wUd wanton Rosamond, one of our sort. Had never frequented King Henry's brave Court, Such heaps of deep sorrow she never had seen. Nor tasted the rage of a jealous Queen.

All men have their freedom to shew their intent, They win not a woman except she consent; Who, then, can impute to a man any fault. Who still goes uprightly while women do halt

[69]

Til counted Mndnwi in men for to try, And yirtne in women the same to deny; For women inconstant can never be inroved, UntU by their betters therein they be moved.

If women and modesty once do bat sever. Then farewell good name and credit for ever I Andy rqyal King Bdward, let me be exiled Ere any man kaows my body's defiled.

No, no, my old Father's reverent tears Too deep an impression within my soul bears; Nor shall his bright honom* that Uot, by me, have To bring his gray hairs with grief to the grave.

The heavens forbid that when I should die,

That any snch sin vqpon my soul lie;

If I have kept me from doing this sin,

My heart shall not yield with a Prince to begin.

Come rather with pity to weep on my Tomb, Then, for my birth, corse my dear mother's Womb, That brought forth a blossom that stained the tree With wanton desires to shame her and me.

Leave me (most noble King), tempt not, in vain. My milk-white affections witii lewdness to stain: Though England will give me no comfort at all. Yet England shall yield me a sad furiall.

AN EXCELLENT BALLAD INTITULED : THE CONSTANCY OP SUSANNA

(Anonymous. From The Roxbargbe Baiiads. Vol. I. 1874)

n^HERB dwelt a man in Babylon^

'- of reputation great by fame; He took to wife a fair woman,

Susanna she was call'd by name; A woman fair and virtuous:

Lady, Lady, Why should we not c^ her learn thus to live godly?

Virtuously her life she led,

she feared God, she stood in awe,

[70]

At in the w^odt we have read,

was wdl brought up in Jf oaea' Law. Her parents tfaey were godly folk,

Lady, Lady; Wby should we not then sing and talk of tills Lady?

That year two Judges there was made, which were the Blders of Babylon; To Joachim's hoose was all their trade, who was Susanna's husband then: Joachim was a great rich man.

Lady, Lady; These Slders oft to his house came for tills Lady.

Joachim had an Orchard by,

fast joyning to his hoose or place. Whereas Susanna commonly

her self did daily there solace: And that these Elders soon espied.

Lady, Lady; And privily themselves did hide for that Lady.

Her chaste and constant life was tried

by these two Elders of Babylon; A time convenient they espied

to have this Lady all alone. In his Orchard it came to pass.

Lady, Lady; Where she alone her self did wash her fair body.

These Slders came to her anon,

and thus they said. Pair dame, God speed Thy doors are fast, thy Maids are gone. Consent to us and do this deed; For we are men of no mistrust.

Lady, Lady, And yet to thee we have a lust,

O fair Lady.

If that to us thou dost say nay,

a testimonial we will bring; We will say that one with thee lay,

how canst thou then avoid the thing?

[71]

Therefore conient; and to lui turn.

Lady, Lady; For we to tfaee in liiat do bum,

O fair Lady.

Then did the aigh, and said, alaa

now woe is me on every aide; Was ever wretch in such a case

shall I consent and do this deed Whether I do or do it not»

Lady» Lady, It is my death, right well I wot O true Ladyl

Better it were for me to fall

into your hands this day guiltless,

Then tliat I should consent at all to this your shameful wickedness.

And even with that (whereas she stood). Lady, Lady,

Unto the Lord she cried aloud pitifully.

These Blders both likewise again

against Susanna aloud they cried. Their filthy lust could not obtain,

their wickedness they sought to hide; Unto her friends they then her brought.

Lady, Lady, And with all speed the life they sought of that Lady.

THB SECOND PART

On the morrow she was brought forth

before the people there to stand. That they might hear and know the truth, how these two Blders Susanna found. The Blders swore, and thus did say.

Lady, Lady, How that they saw a sroung man lay with that Lady.

Judgment there was, for no offence, Susanna causeless then must die;

These Elders bore such evidence, against her they did verify,

(7a]

Who were believed then indeed,

Lad7» Lady, Against Susanna to proceed,

that she should cUe.

Susanna's friends that stood her by,

they did lament, and were full woe, When as they saw no remedy,

but that to death she then must do. Lady, Lady, In God was all her hope and trust to him did cry.

The Lord her voice heard, and beheld

the Daughter's cry of Israel; His spirit he raised in a child,

whose name was called young Daniel, Who cried aloud whereas he stood,

Lady, Lady, I am clear of ^e guiltless blood of this Lady.

Are you such fools? quoth Daniel then; in judgment you have not done well, Nor yet the right way have you gone

to judge a daughter of Israel By this witness of false disdain;

Lady, Lady, Wherefore to judgment turn again, for that Lady.

And when to judgment they were set,

he called for those wicked men. And soon he did them separate,

putting the one from the other, then He asked the first where he did see

that fair Lady; He said under a mulberry tree; who lied falsely.

Thou liest, said Daniel, on thy head thy sentence is before the Lord I He bade that forth he might be led,

and bring the other that bore record. To see how they two did agree

for this Lady; He said under a pomegranate tree; who lied falsely.

[73]

Said Daniel, as he did bef ore»

behold the messenger of the Lord Stands waiting for yoa at the door, even to cut thee with a sword. And, even with that, the multitade

aloud did cry. Give thanks to Gk>d, so to conclude, for this Lady.

They dealt like with these wicked men

according as the Scripture saith. They did, as with their neighbour, ^en,

by Moses' law were put to death I The innocent preserved was,

Lady, Lady, As God by Daniel brought to pass for this Lady.

CLODS CARROLL

(Anonymous. From The Roxburgbe Bmiiads* VoL I)

Man. Now in the Garden are we well met.

To crave our promise, for promise is a debt Woman. Come, sit thee down all by my side, and when that

thou art set, say what thou wilt unto me.

Man. Show me unf eignedly, and tell me thy mind.

For one may have a young wench that is not over- kind. Woman. Seek all the world for such a one, then hardly shall

you find a Love of such perfection.

Man. This single life is wearisome: fain would I marry.

But fear of ill choosing makes me to tarry: Some says that flesh is flexible, and quickly it will vary.

Woman. Ifs veiy true, God mend them.

Man. Why speak'st thou ill of women, sith thou thy-

self art one?

Woman. Would all the rest were constant save I myself

alone;

Man. Faith, good or bad, or howsoe're, I cannot live

alone, but needs I must be married.

[74]

WomaiL To marry with a young wench^ ihall make tliee

poor with pride: To marry with one of middle age» perhaps she hath

been tried i To marry with an old one, to freeze by fire side:

both old and yomig are faulty.

Man. Ill marry with a young wench^ of beauty and of wit

Woman. It is better tame a young Colt without a curbing bit.

Man. But she will throw her rider down.

Woman. I, true, he cannot sit» when Fillies fall a wighing.

Man. in marry one of middle age, for she will love me

welL Woman. But if her middle much be used, by heaven and by

heU! Thou shalt find more griefs than thousand tongues

can tell: Ah, silly man, God help thee.

Man. ru marry with an old wench that knows not good

from bad. Woman. But once within a fortnight shell make her husband

mad, Man. Beshrew thee for thy counsel, for thou hast made me

sad; but needs I must be married.

Woman.

To marry with a young wench me thinks it were a

bliss: To marry one of middle age it were not much amiss: I'd marry one of old age, and match where money

is; there's none are bad in choosing.

Man. Then thou, for all thy sajdng, commendst the single

life. Woman. I, freedom is a popish banishment of strife. Man. Hold thy tongue, fond woman, for I must have a

wife. Woman. A Cuckold in reversion.

When you are once married, all one whole year, Tell me of your fortune, and meet with me here; To think upon my counsel thou wilt shed many a tear; till which time I will leave thee.

if ff^ .

Were I but assured, and of a Beggar's lot. Still to live in misery and never worth a groat. To have my head well furnished as any homed Goat: for all this would I marry.

[75]

Farewell, you lusty Bachelors, to marriage I am

bent; When I have tried what marriage ia, I'll tell you the

cuent, And tell the cause, if cause there be, wherein I do

repent that ever I did marry.

THB SECOND PART

Woman. Good-morrow to thee new married man, how dost

thou fare? Man. As one quite marr'd with marriage, consumed and

kiUed with care: Would I had ta'en thy counseL Woman. But thou wouldst not beware. Man. Alas! it was my fortune.

Woman. What grief doth most oppress thee may I request

to know? Man. That I have got a wanton.

Woman. But is she not a shrow?

Iffan. She's anything that evil is, but I must not say so.

Woman. For fear that I should flout thee.

Man. Indeed, to mock at misery would add unto my grief.

Woman. But I will not torment ^ee, but rather lend relief: And therefore in thy marriage tell me what woes are chief; good counsel yet may cure thee.

Is not thy housewife testy, too churlish and too

sour? Man. The devil is not so waspish, she's never pleased

an hour. Woman. Canst thou not tame a devil? lies not it in thy

power? Man. Alas I I cannot conjure.

Woman. What I goeth she not a gossiping, to spend away

thy store: Man. Do what I can, I promise you, she's ever out of

door; That were I ne'er so thrifty, yet she would make me

poor; woe's met I cannot mend it.

Woman. How goeth she in apparel? delights she not in pride? Man. No more than birds do bushes, or harts the river

side,—

[76]

Witness to that; her looking-glass, where she hath stood in pride a whole fore-noon together.

Woman. How thinkst thou? was she honest, and loyal to

thy bed?

Man. I think her legs do fall away, for springtime keep-

ing head; And were not horns invisible, I warrant you I were sped with broad browed Panthers;

Woman. Thy grief is past recovery; no salute will help but

this— To take thy fortune patiently, and brook her what

she is. Yet many things amended are that have been long

amiss, and so in time may she be.

Man. I cannot stay here longer, my wife, or this, doth

•tay; And he thafs bound as I am bound, perforce must

needs obey. Woman. Then farewell to thee, new-married man, since you

will needs away; I can but grieve thy fortune.

Man. All you that be at liberty and would be void of

strife: I speak it on experience, ne'er venture on a wife; For if you match, you will be matched to such a

weary life, that you will all repent you.

THE DISCONTENTED MARRIED MAN (Anonymous. From The Roxburgbe BMads. Vol. I. 1874)

A YOUNG man lately wedded was To a fair and comely creature, She was a blithe and bonny Lass As ere was framed by Nature, With rolling eye. And forehead high. And all good parts Nature could give her: But she had learned such a note. She could not keep her legs together.

A lusty youth, of Cupid's strain. That might the Queen of Love contented,

[77]

Casie unto her, her love to gain, And freely die her love consented: But, to be short. In Cqpid's Court He used her well when he came thither. And played his part in such an art. She could not, &c.

When her Husband he heard tell

Of her tricks, with true relation, He complained to himself

Very sadly in this fashion: Quoth he, I would give twenty pound.

That* s ten more than I had with her. Her mother would take her home agahi.

And make her keep her, &c.

Son, be thou of patient mind.

Let not thoughts thy fancies trouble; For I to thee will still prove kind. And her portion I will double. Time and age Will assuage. And the fairest flower will wither. And I such counsel will her give Shall make her keq;> her legs together.

Henceforth, therefore, 1*11 forsake her.

And her mother shall take her. And, for shame! let her better make her.

Or I again will never take her. Pure modesty she doth defy.

Besides, she's fickle as the weather. And her scolding plainly shows

She cannot keep her legs together.

Then 111 leave off to find another,

Though't may add unto my lustre. For brave spacious England wide I am sure affords a cluster: Good and bad Are to had; Jove speed me welll though long I tarry. For, ere that I'll have such a Mate I never more intend to marry.

t78]

THB SECOND PART

She Is gone a wand'ring forth

Wanton wenchy will be ranging With two gallants of great worth: Such as they a£Fect a changing. She is bent To consent For to go she knows not whether: They will teach her such a trick She will not keep her legs together.

To the dancing-school she goes.

There she spends her husband's treasure. On each Shoe she wears a Rose, For to show she's fit for pleasure; And resort To Cupid's Court, And no sooner she comes thither. She learns so much of that same sport, She cannot keep her legs together.

To the tavern she repairs.

Whilst her husband sits and muses. There she domineers and swears, "Tis a tiling she often uses! And, being fine. She, for wine, Will both pawn her hat and feather; Which doth show that it is true She cannot keep her legs together.

He's a Coxcomb that doth grieve

And knows not how to court this creature. For he may pin her to his sleeve. She is of so kind a nature: She will play Bvery way. And is as nimble as a feather. But she will often go astray, She cannot keep her legs together.

Thou that h^t a wife that's dvil.

Love her well and make much of her; For a woman that is evil All the town, thou seest, will scoff her. Love thy wife; As thy life,

[79]

Let her not go thoa know'tt not whither* For you will alwtys live in strife If she keep not her legs together.

Maidens fair, have a care

Whom you love and whom yon marry; Love not those that jealous are. Longer you had better tarry; For offence Springs from hence— You will go you know not whether. Till you lose both wit and sense. And cannot keep your legs together.

THE MAID'S COMFORT

(Anonymous. From The Roxburgbe BMilmdM. Vol. IL 1874)

DOWN in a garden sits my dearest Love, Her skin more white than is the Down of Swan, More tender-hearted than the Turtle Dove, And far more kind than is the Pelican; I courted her, she blushing, rose and said. Why was I bom to live and die a Maid?

If that be all your grief, my Sweet, said I, I soon shall ease you of your care and pain. Yielding a mean to cure your misery, That you no more shall cause have to conq>la]n. Then be content, Sweeting, to her, I said. Be ruled by me, thou shalt not die a Maid.

A Medicine for thy grief I can procure.

Then wail no more (my Sweet) in discontent.

My love to thee for ever shall endure,

111 give no cause whereby thou shouldst repent.

The Match we make: for I will constant prove

To thee my Sweeting, and my dearest Love.

Then sigh no more, but wipe thy watery esres. Be not perplexed, my Honey, at the heart. Thy beauty doth my Heart and thoughts surprise The 3rield me love, to end my burning smart: Shrink not from me, my bonny Love, I said. For I have vowed thou shall not die a Maid.

[80]

Pity it were, to fair a one as you, Adorned witfi Nature'a chiefeet Ornaments, Should languish thus in pain, I tdl you true. Yielding in love, all danger still prevents: Then seem not coy, nor Love be not afraid. But yield to me, thou shalt not die a

Yield me some comfort^ Sweeting, I entreat.

For* I am now tormented at the heart,

My affection's pure, my love to thee is great.

Which makes me dius my thoughts to thee impart:

I love thee dear, and shall do evermore,

O pity me, for love I now implore.

For her I plucked a pretty Marigold,

Whose leaves shut up even with the Evening Sun,

Saying, Sweetheart, look now and do behold

A pretty Riddle in it to be shown:

This Leaf shut in, even like a Cloistered Nun,

Yet will it open, when it feels the Sun.

What mean you by this Riddle, Sir, she I pray expound it, then he thus began: Women were made for Men, and Men for Maids: With that she changed her colour, and looked wan. Since you thia Riddle to me so well have told Be you my Sun, 111 be your Marigold.

THE SECOND PART

I gave consent; and thereto did agree To sport with her within that lovely Bower: I pleased her, and she likewise pleased me, Jove found such pleasures in a Golden Shower. Our Sports being ended, then she blushing, said, I have my wish, for now I am no

But Sir (quoth she) from me you nnist not part,

Your conq>any so well I do effect.

My love you have, now you have won my heart.

Your loving self for ever I respect;

Then go not from me, gentle Sir, quoth she,

'Tis death to part, my gentle Love, from thee.

The kindness you, good Sir, to me have shown. Shall never be forgot, whilst life remains:

[8z]

Qrant me thy love, and I will be tfalne own. Yield her relief that now for love complains: O leave me not, to languish in despair. But stay with me, to ease my heart of care.

Yom- Marigold for ever I will be. Be you my Sun, 'tis all I do desire. Your heating Beams yield comfort unto me. My love to you is fervent and entire: Let yours, good Sir, I pray be so to me. For I hold you my chief felicity.

Content within your company I find.

Yield me some comfort, gentle Sir, I pray.

To ease my grief and my tormented mind;

My love is firm, and never shall decay:

So constant still (my Sweet) I'll prove to you,

Lpyal in thoughts, my love shall still be true.

Content thjrsdf (quoth he) my only Dear

In love to thee I will remain as pure

As Turtle to her Mate: to thee I swear.

My constant love for ever shall endure:

Then weep no more, sweet comfort 111 thee yield.

Thy beauteous Face my heart hath filled.

Comfort she found, and straight was made a Wife

It was the only thing she did desire:

And she enjoys a Man loves her as Life

And will do ever, till his date expire.

And this for tru^ report hast to me told,

He is her Sun, and she his Marigold.

TOTTINGHAM FROLIC (Anonymous. From Cboyce DroiUry')

A S I came from Tottingham ^^ Upon a Market-day, There I met with a bonny Lass

Cloathed all in Gray, Her Journey was to London,

With Butter-milk and Whey. To come Down a down. To come Down, down a down a.

[to]

Sweet-heart, quoth he.

You're well overtook, With that she cast her Head aside.

And lent to him a Look; Then presently these two

Both Hands together shook: To come, etc

And as they rode together.

Along side by side. The Maiden it so chanced.

Her Garter was unty'd; For fear that she should lose it.

Look here, Sweet-heart, he ciy'd. Your Garter is down a down, etc

Good Sir, quoth she,

I pray you take the Pain, To do so much for me.

As to take it up again. With a good wiU, quoth he.

When I come to yonder Plain, I will take you down, etc

And when they came unto the Place,

Upon the Grass so green. The Maid she held her Legs so wide.

The Young man slipt between. Such tying of a Garter,

You have but seldom seen. To come down, etc

Then she rose up again. And thank'd him for his pain:

He took her by the middle small, And Kiss'd her once again:

Her Journey was to London, And he from Highgate came.

To come down, etc

Thus Tibb of Tottingham,

She lost her Maiden-head, But yet it is no matter.

It stood her in small stead. For it did often trouble her.

As she lay in her Bed. To come down, etc

[83]

But when all her Butter-milk . And her Whey was sold, The lou of her Maiden-head,

It waxed very cold: But that which will away, quoth she.

Is very hard to hold, Xo come, etc

You Maids, yon Wives, and Widows, That now do hear mf Song,

If any young man proffer Kindness, Pray take it short, or long;

For there is no such Comfort As Ijring with a Man.

To come Down a down.

To come Down, down a down a.

ROOM FOR A JOVIAL TINKER: OLD BRASS

TO MEND

(Anonymous. Roxburghe BMads: c. 1616)

IT was a Lady of the North she loved a Gentleman, And knew not well what course to take, to use him now and then. Wherefore she writ a Letter, and sealed it with her hand. And bid him be a Tinker, to mend both pot and pan. With a hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, deiiy* And when the merry Gentleman the Letter he did read. He got a budget on his back, and Apron with all speed. His pretty shears and pincers, so well they did agree. With a long pike staff upon his back, came tripping o'er the

With a hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down down, deiiy*

When he came to the Lady's house, he knocked at the gate. Then answered this Lady gay, *'Who knockedi there so late?** «* 'TIS I, Madam," the Tinker said, I work for gold and fee: If you have any broken pots or pans, come bring them all

to me." With a hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, deny.

[84]

^I am the bravest Tinker that lives beneath the Snn, If you have any work to do, you shall have it well done; I have brass within my budget, and punching under my Apron, I'm come unto your Ladyship, and mean to mend your

Coldron.'* With a hey ho, hey, derry deny down; with hey trey, down

down, dnry.

"I prethee,** said the Lady gay, bring now thy budget in, I have store of work for thee to do, if thou wilt once begin.'* Now when the Tinker he came in, that did the budget bear, God bless," quoth he, "your Ladyship! God save you Madam

fair.- With hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, derry.

But when the Lady knew his face, she then began to wink, "Haste, lusty Butler then <iuoth she, "to fetch the man some

•»

him such meat as we do eat, and drink as we do use, It is not for a Tinker's Trade good liquor to refuse." With hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down down, deny.

But when that he had eat and drunk, the truth of all is so. The Lady took him by the sleeve, her work to him to show, "Let up thy Tools, Tinker," quoth she, "and see there be

none lost^ And mend my Kettle handsomely, what ere it doth me cost With hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, derry.

"Your work. Madam, shall be well done, if yon will pay

me for't; For every nail that I do drive, yon shall give me a mark. If I do not drive the nafl to th' head, I'll have nothing for

my pain. And what I do receive of you shall be retum'd again." With hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, derry.

At last bong come into the Room, where he the work should

do. The Lady lay down on the bed, so did the Tinker too: Although the Tinker knocked amain, the Lady was not of- fended,

[85]

^ I

But before that she roee from the bed, her Coldron was well

niendecL With hey ho» hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, deny.

But when his work was at an end, which he did in the dark. She put her hand into her purse and gave him twenty mark, ^Here's money for thy work, said she, and I thank thee for

tliy pain. And when my Coldron mending lacks I'll send for thee again." With hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, derry.

The Tinker he was w^ell content for that which he had done. So took his budget on liis back, and quickly he was gone. Then the Lady to her husband went, O my dear Lord,"

quoth she,

• I have set the bravest Tinker at work that ever you did see."

With hey ho^ hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, derry.

No fault at all this Tinker hath, but he takes dear for his

work. That little time that he wrought here it cost me twenty mark." "If you had been so wise," quoth he, "for to have held your

own. Before you set him to this work the price you might have

known." With hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, derry.

"Pray hold your peace, my Lord," quoth she, ^snd think it not

too dear. If yon cou'd do't so well 'twould save you forty pound a year." With that the Lord most lovingly, to make all things amends. He kindly kist his Lady gay, and so they both were friends. With hey ho^ hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, derry.

You merry Tinkers, every one, that hear this new-made Sonnet, When as you do a Lady's work be sure you think upon it; Drive home your nails to the very head, and do your work

profoundly, And then no doubt your Mistresses will pay you for it soundly. With hey ho, hey, derry derry down; with hey trey, down

down, derry.

[86]

(ANOTHER VERSION)

THE TINKER *

(Anonymont. From Mwry DrolUry. 1661)

n^HBRE was a Lady in this Land - That loved a Qentieman^ And cotild not have him secretly.

As she wotild now and then. Till she devised to dress him lUce

A Tinker in Vocation: And thns, disguised, she bid him say.

He came to clout her Cauldron.

His face full fair she smothers Uack

That he might not be known, A leather Jerkin on his back,

His breeches rent and torn; With speed he passed to the place,

To knock he did not q>are: Who's that, quoth the lady C« Porter) then.

That raps so rashly there.

I am a Tinker, then quoth he.

That worketh for my Pee, If 3rou have Vessels for to mend.

Then bring them unto me: Por I have brass within my bag.

And target in my Apron, And with my skill I can well dout.

And mend a broken Cauldron*

Quoth she, our Cauldron hath most need.

At it we will begm, Por it will hold you half an hour

To trim it out and in: But first give me a glass of dnnk.

The best that we do use, Por why it is a Tinker's guise

No good drink to refuse.

Then to the Brew-house hyed they fast,

This broken piece to mend. He said he would no company.

His Craft should not be kend,

• Some of tfaeie venet are evidcntlj miaplaced. Thej ere printed imdiipsed,

[87]

Bnt only to your mU, he laid.

That must pay me my Fee: I am no common Tinker,

But work most curiously.

And I abo have made a Vow,

111 keep it if I may» There shall no mankind see mj work;

That I may stop or stay: Then barred he the Brew-house door.

The place was very dark. He cast his Budget from his back.

And frankly fell to work.

And whilst he play'd and made her sport.

Their craft the more to hide, She with his hammer str6ke full hard

Against the Cauldron side: Which made them all to think, and say,

The Tinker wrought apace. And so be sure he did indeed»

But in another place.

The Porter went into the house,

Where Servants used to dine. Telling his Lady, at the Gate

There stayed a Tinker fine: Quoth he, much Brass he wears about,

And Target in his Apron, Saying, that he hath perfect skill

To mend your broken Cauldron.

Quoth she, of him we have great need,

Gk) Porter, let him in. If he be cunning in his Craft

He shall much money win: But wisely wist she who he was,

Though nothing she did say. For in that sort she pointed him

To come that very day.

When he before the Lady came.

Disguised stood he there. He blmked bUtUy, and did say,

God save you llistris fair; Thou*rt welcome, Tinker, unto me,

Thou seem*st a man of skill. All broken Vessels for to mend,

[88]

Though th^ be ne'er so ill; I am the best man of my Trade,

Quoth he, in an this Town, For any Kettle, Pot, or Pan,

Or clouting of a Cauldron.

Quoth he, fair Lady, unto her.

My business I have ended, Qo quickly now, and tell your Lord

The Cauldron I have mended: As for the Price, that I refer

Whatsoever he do say. Then come again with diligence,

I would I were away.

The Lady went unto her Lord,

Where he walked up and down. Sir, I have with the Tinker been.

The best hi all the Town: His work he doth exceeding well.

Though he be wondrous dear. He asks no less than half a Mark

For that he hath done here.

Quoth he, that Target is full dear,

I swear by God's good Mother: Quoth she, my Lord, I dare protest,

TiB worth five-hundred other; He strook it in the special place.

Where greatest need was found. Spending his brass and target both.

To make it safe and sound.

Before all Tinkers in the Land,

That travels up and down, Bre they should earn a Groat of mine.

This man shotdd earn a Crown: Or were you of his Craft so good.

And none but I it kend. Then would it save me many a Mark,

Which I am fain to spend.

The Lady to her Coffer went, And took a hundred Mark,

And gave the Tinker for his pains. That did so well his work;

Tinker, said she, take here thy fee, Sith here you'll not remain,

[89]

i^

But I must have 1117 Cauldron now Once scoured o*er again.

Then to the former work they went.

No man could them deny; The Lady said, good Tinker call

The next time thou com'st fay: For why, thou dost thy work so well.

And with so good invention. If still thou hold thy hand alike.

Take here a yearly Pension.

And ev'ry quarter of the year

Our Cauldron thou shalt view; Nay, by my faith, her Lord gan say,

Fd rather buy a new; . Then did the Tinker take his leave

Both of the Lord and Lady; And said, such work as I can do.

To you I will be ready. From all such Tinkers of the trade

Grod keep my Wife, I pray. That comes to clout her Cauldron so,

I'll swing him if I may.

THE THREE MERRY TRAVELLERS (Anonymous. In Bagiord BMads: c 1630)

'T^HERE was three Travellers, Travellers three, ^ With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry. And they would go Travel the North Country, Without ever a stiver of Money.

They Travelled East, and they Travelled West, With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

Wherever they came still they drank of the best; Without ever a stiver of Money.

At length fay good fortune they came to an Inn, With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

And they were as Merry as e're they had been. Without ever a stiver of Money.

A Jolly young widow did smiling appear. With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry,

[90]

Who dmt tfaem a Banquet of delicate cheer, Without ever a stiver of Money.

Both Chicken and sparrow grass she did provide. With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

You're Welcome kind Gentlemen, welcome, (she cried) Without ever a stiver of Money.

They called for liquor both Beer, Ale and Wine, With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

And every thing that was curious and fine. Without ever a stiver of Money.

They drank to their Hostess a merry full bowl. With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

She pledged them in love, like a generous Soul, Without ever a stiver of Money.

The Hostess, her Maid, and Cousin all three. With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

They kissed and was merry, as merry could be^ Without ever a stiver ai Money.

Full Bottles and Glasses replenished the Board, With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

No liquors was wanting the house could afford. Without ever a stiver of Money.

When they had been Merry good part of the Day, With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

They called their Hostess to know whaf s to pay. Without ever a stiver of Money.

There's Thirty good shilling, and Six pence, (she cried) With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

They told her that she should be soon satisfied. Without ever a stiver of Money.

The Handsomest Man of the three up he got. With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

He laid her on her Back, and paid her the shot. Without ever a stiver pf Money.

The middlemost Man to her Cousin he went. With a hye down, ho down, Lanktle down derry,

She being handsome, he gave her Content, Without ever a stiver of Money.

[91]

The Lut Man of all he took np whh the Maid, With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry.

And thus the whole shot of it wu Lovingly paid. Without ever a adver of Money.

The Hoateta, the Couain, and Servant, we find. With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry,

Made courtesies, and thanked them for being so khid. Without ever a stiver of Money.

The Hostess said, welcome kind Gentlemen all. With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down derry,

If you chance to come thia way be pleased to Call, Without ever a ativer of Money.

Then taking their leaves they went merrily out, With a hye down, ho down, Lanktre down deny.

And they're gone for to Travel the Nation about, . Without ever a ativer of Money.

A GOOD THROW FOR THREE MAIDENHEADS

(By Martin Parker. 1631* From A P0py»iMn OMtimnd.

1933)

Some ny that mayden-headi are of high price.

But here are three maidi that have lost theirs at dice.

THREE maidena did make a meeting, With one young man of late. Where they had auch a greeting, Aa paaaea Peg and Kate. They talk of many matters, Not fitting to be told; Also they drank atrong waters. To heat their stomachs cold.

and when they had,

drunk with the Lad, Until they were merry all:

between them three,

they did agree, Into discourse to fall.

Concerning husbands getting, The question did ariae,

[9a]

And each of tfaem their Some reason did devise. One ^as a milkmaid bonny. The other Til not name. But she did get mnch money. By selling of the same,

her name is Jone,

as is well known, I hope 'tis no offence:

to tell what th^,

did on that day. Before they went from thence.

They all did love this yonng man And each for him did strive. It seems he was a strong man. That could his work contrive. Now which of them should have him. They neither of them knew. But each of them did crave him. As her own proper due.

now meeting,

and greeting. As maids and young men use,

with them he drank,

his money was frank. Indeed he could not choose.

And either of them telling. Her mind in full to him. Meanwhile the rest were filling, Their cups up to ye brim. Because in either of them. It seems he had a share, Unless he meant to scoff them. He now must choose his ware.

and therefore they,

without delay. Being on the merry pin:

with good advice,

did throw the dice. Who should the young man win.

The young man was contented. And so the dice were brought The maids that this invented. Their lessons were well taught: For the young man all lusted,

[93]

And by this fine device. They severally all trusted. To win him fay the dice.

but hark now,

and mark now. The manner of thdr play:

in their behalf,

I know you'll laugh. Before you go away.

THE SECOND PART

If any of the lassies. Do overthrow the rest. On her the verdict iiasses. None should with her contest. But she should have her lover. Cleaner from the other twain. If even not above her, Then they must throw again.

but of he,

all of them, three. Did win by throwing most:

their mayden-heads all,

to him must fall. Without any pain or cost

To this they all replied.

They joyntly were agreed.

What words had testifyed.

Should be perform'd indeed.

The first maid threw, tray cater ace.

Which is in all but eight.

She hoped from all the maids in place.

To win the lad by right,

the second I think,

threw tray deuce cinque. There's ten (quoth she) for me.

the first was quell'd,

for this excel'd. Full sorely vext was she.

The third with courage lusty. Did take the dice in hand. Now dice if you be trusty. Quoth she, this cast shall stand. For I resolve for better for worse

[94]

As f ortnnc shall dispose.

That either now 111 win the hone j

Or else the Saddle lose.

she took them,

and she shook them, And threw without fear or wit,

tray cater sice,

gnunercy dice. Quoth she, for that is it

She thought herself most certain The young man now to have. But false deluding fortune. No such great favour gave. The young man took the dice up. Quoth he now have at all. He threw sincke cater sice up. Which made her courage fall,

who threw the last,

for 'twas surpast. How now my girls, quoth he,

you must resign,

for they are mine. Your maiden-heads to me.

For I have fairly won them. As you yourselves can tell. The lots were cast upon them. Which you all liked welL The maidens all confessed. That what he said was true. And that they were distressed. Should he exact his due.

we hope sir,

some scope sir, You unto us will give.

if that we pay,

what's lost by play, 'Twere pity we should live.

Quoth he, I'll have them all three.

For they by right are mine.

Or else in troth, they shall be.

All painted on my sign.

The sign of the one maiden-head.

Hath oftentimes bin seen,

But 111 have three caus't shall be

[95]

The like hatli never been.

now whether this lad»

his winnings ha^ I cannot nor will not say:

but likely 'tis,

he would not miss. What was won by fair i>lay.

They thought they had been private Where none had heard their doing But one did so contrive it. That he heard all this wooing. Thought he I have heard many hold. Their maiden-heads at high price. But now hereafter it may be told. How three were won at dice.

this man ere long,

did cause this song. To be made on the same,

that maidens fair,

might have a care. And play at no such game.

WHEN AS I DO RECORD

(Anonymous. Before i650* From Percy*M Poiio Mms,

Vol. IV)

WHEN as I do record the pleasures I have had At this side slippery board,

my mind is merry and glad. With many a lusty lass

my pleasure I have tane: I would give mine old white Jade that Jenny were here again I

She brews and bakes to sell

for such as do pass by; Qood fellows love her well;

in faith and so do It For ever when I was dry,

of drink I would have tane, I would tread both shoes awry,

that Jenny, etc

[96]

Foil oft iht and I

witfain the buttery played At tray tripe of a dye.

and sent away the maid. For she is of the dealing trade,

she will give yon 3 for one; She is no sullen Jade;

giff Jenny, etc

A man might for a penny

have had a pot of ale, And tasted of a Coney

of either leg or tail; For she would never fail

if she were in the vain. Alas, all flesh were frail

giff Jenny, etc

« 

Full oft I have been her man,

her market for to make; And after I have ridden

a journey for her sake. Her panell I could take,

and gallop all amain; I'd make both bedsides crack

tiiat Jenny, etc

Yon hostesses tiiat mean

for to live by yaar trade. If yon scorn to kiss,

then keep a pretty maidi For drink is not worth a lowse

if lasses there be none! I would drink a whole carouse

tiiat Jenny were here againi

BE NOT AFRAID (Anonymons. c. 1650. From Percy's Polio Mmb. Vol. IV)

OE not afraid thou fairest, thou rarest ^ that ever was madel deny me not a kiss; Then thou shalt see the Measure of pleasure

that I will have from thee. What hurts there

in this?

[97]

Then lets embrace, and let pleasure be free, The world shall nere take notice how delightful (we be.)

^I see tiiat spies, both peeping and creeping, in each comer lies to hinder all our joys;

But Cupid shall see, and find them, and Uind them tiiat hindrance will be to the getting of Boys.

Then lets, etc.:

Venus, Jupiter, fair nature, Dame creature. Made thee for delight, but yet for none but I;

Then lets embrace, and rifle and trifle, leave a jewel in tht place, but kept tiU you die.

Then lets, etc*

Nay pish I nay fief you'll venture to enter I a trespass so high, you'U wish fwere undone;

Should any spie, they'll wonder, look yonder; but you'll not fly the place you have begun.

Then lets, etc.

"Now you have enjoyed the Measure of pleasure, indeed I'm destroyed if you speak of it again;

For women do prove neglected, rejected, when freedom of love is known to other men.

Now you have enjoyed me, and all things be free,.

In faith you'll undo me if a tdltale you be.

"Then here's my hearti 111 ever endeavor tiiat we will never part till death assigns the time.

Were it not you, believe me it would grieve me to do what I do; that love should be a crime;

But it is a fault of so sweet a degree.

That sure I am persuaded, court nor country be free."

A CREATURE FOR FEATURE

(Anonymons. Before 1650. From Percy's Polio Mbb,

Vol. IV)

A CREATURE, for feature I never saw a So witty, so pretty, I never knew a rarer; She so kind, and I so blind. That I may say another day

[98]

'^I did complain* and I met a twain. But he knew not how to woo me nor do me» He was so dull conceited. I save a smile him to beguile, I made a show to make him know, I pincht his cheek to make him seek And find some further pleasure, whose treasure needs not to be Expected.

• • 1 staid him, and prayed him, and proffered him a

favour;

He kist me, and wisht me to bear with his be- havior;

But hie tro lolly lolly, lo silly wiUy could not doe.

All content with him was spent

When he had dipt and kist me, and mist me.

And could not . . . kiss me . . . (line cut off)

Then thought I, and thought no lie.

Perhaps his pipe is not yet ripe;

Yet an hour may have the power

To make it grow in full length and full strength;

But fools are led in blindness.

"But woe me, and woe mef alas, I could not raise!

It would not, nor could not, doe all I could to please.

His ink was run, his pen was done.

Jackl art thou dead? hold up thy headi

I will litter thee and water thee,

And feed thee with my neet.

And better, if thou wilt lie beside me.

But all in vain I did complain.

His Jack was tired, he'd not be hired

For all my prayers and all my tears."

OF A PURITAN (Aoonymons. c 1600. From Percy's Polio Mu. Vol. IV)

IT was a puritanical lad that was called Mathyas, And he would go to Amsterdam

to speak with Ananyas. He had not gone past half a mile,

but he met his holy sister; He laid his bible under her breech, and merrily he kist her.

[99]

^Alatl what would. tlifly wicktd My?*

quoth the, "if they had teen iti My Buttocks they lye too low: I wisht

apocrypha were m itl" "But peace. Sweetheart, or ere we part,—

I apeak it out of pure devotion,— By yea and nay 111 not away

till thou fed my spirits motion."

They huft and puft with many hues,

tiU that they both were tired, "Alas I" quoth she, "youll spoil the leaves;

my petticoats aU Hired f If we professors should be known

to the English congregation ^ther at Leyden or Amsterdam,

it would disgrace our nation;

"But since it is, that part we must,

thou I am much unwilling, Good brother, let's have the f other thrust,

and take thee this fine shilling To bear thy charges as thou goes,

and passage o'er the ocean.** Then down she Laid, and since *tis said,

she quencht his spirits motion.

A WELL WISHING TO A PLACE OP

PLEASURE

(Anonymous, c. i6oo. Percy^B Polio Mbb. Vol* IV. 1S67)

SEE the building Where whilst my mistris lived in Was pleasures essence, See how it droopeth And how nakedly it looketfa Without her presence: Every creature That appertaines to nature

'bout this house living. Doth resemble. If not dissemble, due praises giving.

[xoo]

I I. ^m

Harke, how the hollow Windet do blow

And Mem to murmur

in every comer,

for her long absence: The which doth plainly show The causes why I do now All this grief and sorrow show.

See the garden

Where I received reward in

for my true love: Behold those places Where I received those graces

the Gods might move.

The Queene of plenty With all the fruits are dainty,

delights to please. Flora springing Is ever springing

Dame Venus ease. Oh see the Arbour where that she

with melting kisses

distillmg blisses From her true self e

with j<^ did ravish me. The pretty nightingale

did sing melodiously.

Haile to those groves Where I injoyde those loves

so many dayes. L^ the flowers be springing. And sweet birds ever singing

their Roundelayes, Many Cupids measures And cause for true Loves pleasures,

Be danced around. Let all contentment For mirth's presentment

this day be found: And may the grass grow ever green

where we two lying

have oft been trying More severall wayes

than beauties lovely Queen When she m bed with Mars

by all the gods was seen.

[loi]

m^^^^/i^^m

, • - « •

WALKING IN A MEADOW GREEN (Anooymons. c. 1660. From Percy's Polio Msb. Vol. IV)

WALKING in a meadowe greene, fayre flowers for to gather, where primrose rankes did stand on bankes

to welcome comers thither, I heard a voice which made a Noise,

which caused me to attend it, I heard a lasse say to a Ladd, Once more, St none can mend it.*'

They lay soe dose together,

they made me much to wonder; I knew not which was wether,

untill I saw her under, then off her came, St blusht for shame

soe soone that he had endit; yet still she lyes, St to him cryes,

"Once More, St none can mend it.**

His lookes were dull St very sad,

his courage she had tamed; she bade him play the lusty lad

or else he quite was shamed; then stifly thrust, he hit me just,

fear not, but freely spend it, St play about at in ft out;

once more, St none can mend it."

And then he thought to venter her,

thinking the fit was on him; but when he came to enter her,

the point turned back upon him. Yet she said, "stay I go not away

although the point be bended I but toot again, St hit the vaine!

once more, St none can Mend it."

Then in her Armes she did him fold,

St oftentimes she kist him, yet still his courage was but cold

for all the good she wisht him; yet with her hand she made it stand

so stiff she could not bend it, St then anon she cries "come on

once more, St none can mend it I"

[loa]

M,

'^Adien, adieu, sweet heart, quoth he,

• '{or in faith I must be gone.**

nay, then you do me wrong," quoth she,

to leave me thus alone." Away he went when all was spent,

whereat she was offended; Like a Trojan true she made a vow

she would have one should mend it

IN PRAISE OF A DEFORMED WOMAN (Anonymous. From Choyce Drollery. 1656)

I LOVE thee for thy curled hair,

^ As red as any Pox,

Our forefathers did stiU commend

The lovely golden locks. Venus her self might comelier be,

Yet hath no such variety.

I love thee for thy squinting ores,

It breeds no jealousie. For when thou do'st on others look,

Methinks thou look'st on me, Venus her self, etc

I love thee for thy copper nose. Thy fortune's ne're the worse.

If shews the metal in thy face Thou shouldst have in thy purse, Venus her self, etc.

I love thee for thy chestnut skin.

Thy inside's white to me. That colour should be most approved. That will least changed be, Venus her self, etc.

[X03]

I love thee for thy splay month. For on that amorous close

There's room on either side to 1dss» And ne're offend the nose. Venus her self, etc.

I love thee for thy rotten gums, In good time it may hap,

When other wives are costly fed, 111 keep thy chaps on pap. Venus her self, etc.

I love thee for thy Uobber lips,

• Tis good thrift I suppose.

They're dr^ping-pans unto thy eyes. And save-alls to thy nose. Venus her self, etc.

8

I love thee for ttxy hunched back, 'Tis bowed although not broken.

For I believe the Gods did send Me to Thee for a Token. Venus her self, etc.

I love thee for thy pudding waist.

If a Taylor thou do'st lack. Thou need'st not send to France for one,

in fit thee with a sack, Venus her self, etc.

zo

I love thee for thy lusty For tressels thou must boast.

Sweet-heart thou hast a water-miU, And these are the miU-posts. Venus her self, etc

[104]

zz

I love thee for tfay splay feet, Thesr're fools that thee deride.

Women are always most esteemed. When their feet are most wide, Venus her self may comelier be, etc.

A SONNET (Anooymons. From Choyce Dtotlery. 1656)

WHAT m luck had I, silly Maid that I am, To be tied to a lasting vow; Or ere to be laid by the side of a man.

That wooed, and cannot tell how; Down diddle down, down diddle me. Oh that I had a Clown that he might down diddle me. With a courage to take mine down.

What punishment is that man worthy to have.

That thus will presume to wed. He deserves to be laid alive in his grave.

That wooed and cannot in bed; Down diddle down, down diddle me. Oh that I had a Lad that he might down diddle me

For I fear I shall run mad.

ON A JUNIPER-TREE CUT DOWN TO

MAKE BUSKS

(By The Earl of Rochester. From Works* i777)

WHILST happy I, triumphant stood. The Pride and Glory of the Wood, My Aromatic Boughs and Fruit Did with all other Trees dispute; Had Right by Nature to excel. In pleasing both the Taste and SmeU; But to the Touch, I must confess. Bore an unwilling SuUenness. My Wealth, like bashful Virgins, I

[X05]

Yielding with some Reluctancy: For which my Value should be more, Not giving easily my Store. My verdant Branches all the Year Did an eternal Beauty wear, Did ever young and gay appear; Nor do I hold Supremacy, In all the Wood, o'er ev'ry Tree, But e'en those two of my own Race, That grew not in this happy Place. But that in which I glory most. And do msrself with Reason boast, Beneath my Shade the other Day Young Philodes and Chloris lay. Upon my Root he placed her Head, And where I grew, he made her Bed; Their trembling Limbs did greatly press The kind siq;>porting yielding Moss, Ne'er half so blessed as now, to bear A Swain so young, a Nynq>h so fair. My gentle Shade I kindly lent. And ev'ry aiding Bough I bent So low, as sometimes had the Bliss To rob the Shepherd of a Kiss: Whilst he in Pleasures far above The Sense of that Degree of Love, Permitted ev'ry Stealth I made, Unjealous of his Rival Shade, I saw 'em kindle to Desire, Whilst with soft Sighs they blew the Fire; Saw the Approaches of their Joy, He grew more fierce, and she less coy: Saw how they mingled melting Rays, Bsxhanging Love a thousand Wajra. Kind was the Force on ev'ry Side; Her new Desires she could not hide Nor would the Shepherd be denied. Impatient, he waits no Consent, But what she gave by Languishment. The blessed Minute he pursued. Whilst Love her Fear and Shame subdued; And now transported in his Arms, Yields to the Conqu'ror all her Charms. His panting Breast to her's now joined. They feast on Raptures unconfined. Vast and luxuriant, such as prove The Immortality c^ Love. For, who but a Divinity

[xo6]

Could mingle Souls to tiiat Degree,

And melt 'em into Ecstasy?

Where, like the Phoenix, both expire,

Whilst from the Ashes of their Fire,

Sprung up a new and soft Desire.

Like Charmers, thrice they did invoke

The God, and thrice new Vigour took;

And had the Nymph been half so kind.

As was the Shepherd well inclined.

The Mysfry had not ended there:

But Chloris re*assum'd her Fear,

And chid the Swain for having prest

What she (alas I) could not resist;

Whilst he, in whom Love's sacred Flame

Before and After was the same.

Humbly implores she would forget

That Fault, which he would yet repeat.

From active Joys with Shame they haste

To a Reflection on the past:

A t housand Times the Covert bless.

That did secure their Happiness;

Their Gratitude to ev'ry Tree

They pay, but most to happy Me.

The Shepherdess xny Bark caressed.

Whilst he my Root (Love's Pillow) kissed.

And did with Sighs their Fate deplore.

Since I must shelter 'em no more.

And if before my joys were such.

In having heard and seen so much.

My Griefs must be as great and high,

V^hen all abandoned I must lie.

Doomed to a silent Destiny;

No more the silent Strife to hear.

The Shepherd's Vows, the Virgin's Fear;

No more a joyful Looker on.

Whilst Love's soft Battle's lost and won.

With Grief I bowed my murm'ring Head, And all my crystal dew I shed, Which did in Chloris Pity move, Chloris, whose Soul is made of Love. She cut me down, and did translate My being to a happier State: No Martjrr for Religion died With half that unconsid'ring Pride; My Top was on the Altar laid. Where Love his softest OfPrings paid. And was, as fragrant Incense, burned:

[107]

My Body into Busks was tamed. Where I still guard the sacred Store, And of Love's Temple keep the Door.

THE INSATIATE LOVER (Anonymous. From Merry Drollery. 1661)

COMB hither my own sweet duck. And sit upon' my knee, That thou and I may truck

For thy Commodity, If thou wilt be my honey,

Then I will be thine own. Thou shalt not want for money

If thou wilt make it known; With h^ ho my honey.

My heart shall never rue. For I have been spending mon^

And amongst the jovial Crew.

I prithee leave thy scorning.

Which our true love beguiles. Thy eytB are bright as morning.

The Sun shines hi thy smUes, Thy gesture is so prudent.

Thy language is so free. That he is the best Student

Which can study thee; With hey, ho, etc.

The Merchant would refuse

His Indies and his Gold If he thy love might chuse.

And have thy love in hold: Thy beauty yidds more pleasure

Than rich men keep in store. And he that hath such treasure

Never can be poor; With hey ho, etc

The Lawyer would forsake

His wit and pleading strong; The Ruler and Judge would tike

Thy part wer't right or wrong;

[108]

Should men thy beauty lee Amongst the learned throngs.

Thy very eyes would be Too hard for all their tongues;

With hey ho, etc.

Thy kisses to thy friend

The Surgeon's skill out-strips, For nothing can transcend

The balsam of thy Lips, There is such vital power

Contained in thy breath. That at the latter hour

'T would raise a man from death; With hey ho, etc.

Astronomers would not

Lie gazing in the skies Had they thy beauty got.

No Stars shine like thine eyes: For he that may importune

Thy love to an embrace. Can read no better fortune

Than what is in thy face. With hey ho, etc.

The Soldier would throw down

His Pistols and Carbine, And freely would be bound

To wear no arms but thine: If thou wert but engaged

To meet him in the field. Though never so much enraged

Thou couldst make him yield. With hey ho, etc.

The seaman would reject

To sail upon the Sea, And his good ship neglect

To be aboard of thee: When thou liest on thy pillows '

He surely could not faO To make thy breast his billows.

And to hoist up sail; With hey ho, etc

The greatest Brings alive Would wish thou wert their own,

[X09]

And every one wotild strive To make thy Lap their Throne,

For thott hast all the merit That love and liking brings;

Besides a nobler spirit, Which may conquer Kings;

With hey ho, etc

Were Rosamond on earth

I surely would abhor her. Though ne'r so great by birth

I should not change thee for her; Though Kings and Queens are gallant.

And bear a royal sway. The poor man hath his Talent,

And loves as well as they. With hey ho, etc

Then prithee come and kiss me.

And say tiiou art mine own, I vow I would not miss thee

Not for a Prince's Throne; Let Love and I persuade thee

My gentle suit to hear: If thou wilt be my Lady,

Then I will be thy dear; With hey ho, etc

I never will deceive thee.

But ever will be true. Till death I shall not leave thee,

Or change thee for a new; Well live as mild as may be.

If thou wilt but agree, And get a pretty baby

With a face like thee. With hey ho, etc.

Let these persuasions move thee

Kindly to comply. There's no man that can love thee

With so much zeal as I; Do thou but yield me pleasure,

And take from me this pain, 111 give thee all the Treasure

Hqrse and man can gain; With hey ho, etc.

txxo]

Ill fight In forty dada

To obtain thy grace, 111 give thee precious jewels

Shall adorn thy face; E'er thou for want of money

Be to destruction hurl'd. For to support my honey

I'll plunder all the world; With hey ho» etc.

That smile doth show consenting,

Then prithee let* s be gone, There shall be no repenting

When the deed is done; My blood and my affection,

My spirits strongly move. Then let us for this action

Fly to yonder grove, With hey ho, etc.

Let us lie down by those bushes

That are grown so high. Where I will hide thy blushes;

Here's no standers by This seventh day of July,

Upon this bank we'll lie. Would all were, that love truly,

As dose as thou and I; With hey ho, my honey.

My heart shall never rue. For I have been spending money

Amongst the jovial Crew.

AN EPISTLE FROM EPHELIA TO BAJAZET, COMPLAINING OF HIS INCONSTANCY

(By The Earl of Rochester. 1677)

pjOW far they are deceiv'd, who hope in vain '-^ A Lasting Lease of Joys from Love t'obtain? All the dear Sweets we're promised or expect. After Enjoyment turns to cold Neglect,

[III]

Could Love a constant Happinesa have known. That mighty Wonder had in me heen ahown; Our Passiona were ao favoured by Fate, As if she meant 'em an eternal Date; So kind he looked, such tender Words he spoke,

• Twaa past Belief such Vows should e'er be broke.

Pizt on. my Byes, how often would he say. He could with Pleasure gaze an Age away. When Thoughts too great for Worda had made him mute. In Kisses he would tell my Hand his Suit: So strong his Passion was, so far above The common Gallantries that passed for Love: At worst, I thought, if he unkind should prove. His ebbing Passion would be kmder far Than the first Transports of all others are: Nor waa my Love or Fondness less than his; In him I centred all my Hopea of Bliss; For him my Duty to my Friends .forgot. For him I lost, alas; what lost I not? Fame, all the valuable Things of Life, To meet his Love by a less Name than Wife: How happy was I then, how dearly blest. When tids great Man lay panting on my Breast, Looking such Things as ne'er could be expressed? Thousand fresh Looks he gave me ev'ry Hour, Whilst greedily I did his Looks devour; 'Till quite o'ercome with Charms, I trembling lay. At ev'ry Look he gave, melting away, I waa so highly happy in his Love, Methought I pity'd them that dwelt Above. Think then, thou greatest, loveliest, falsest Man, How you have vowed, how you have loved, and then. My fidthless Dear, be cruel if you can. How I have loved, I cannot, need not tell; No» ev'ry Act has shewn I loved too welL Since first I saw you, I ne'er had a Thought Waa not entirely yours; to you I brought My Virgin Innocoice, and freely made My Love an Off 'ring to your noble Bed: Since then you've been the Star by which I steered. And nothing else but you, I loved or feared; Your Smilea I only live by, and I must. Whene'er you frown be shattered into Duat. Ol can the Coldness that you shew me now Suit with the gen'rous Heat you once did shew? I cannot live on Pity or Respect, A Thought so mean would my whole Love infect; Less than your Love I scorn. Sir, to expect

[zxa]

19«9^P07

Let me not live in duU IndifPrencsr, But give me Rage enough to make me die; For if from you I needs must meet my Pate, Before your Pity, I would choose your Hate.

II

A VSRY HSROICAL SPISTLB, AN ANSWER

TO SPHELIA

If you're decdv'd, it is not by my Cheat, For all Disguises are below the Great. What Man or Woman vpoa Earth can say I ever used *em well above a Day? How is it then that I inconstant am? He changes not, who always is the same. In my dear Self I center every Thing, My Servants, Friends, my Mistress, and my King, Nay, Heav'n and Earth to that one Point I bring. Well mannered, honest, generous, and stout. Names by dull Fools to plague Mankind found out; Should I regard, I must myself constrain. And 'tis my Maxim to avoid all Pain. You fondly look for what none e'er could find; Deceive yourself, and then call me unkind; And, by false Reason, would my Falsehood proves For 'tis as natural to change, as love. You may as justly at the Sun repine, Because alike it does not always shine. No glorious Thing was ever made to stay; My Blazing-Star but visits, and away: As fatal too it shines, as those i' th' Skies; 'Tis never seen, but some great Lady dies: The boasted Favour you so precious hold. To me's no more than changing of my Gbld, Whate'er you gave, I paid you back in Bliss; Then where's the Obligation, pray, of this? If heretofore you found Grace in my ^yes. Be diankful for it, and let that suffice; But Women, Beggars like, still haunt the Door, Where th^r've received a Charity before. Ol happy Sultan, whom we barb'rous call. How much art thou refined above us all? Who envies not the jojrs of thy Seraglio? Thee, like some God, the trembling crowd adore^ Each Man's thy Slave, and Woman-kind d^ Whore.

[113]

Metliinks I see thee underneath the Shade

Of golden Canopy anpinely laid;

Thy crowdhig Slavea all sflent as the Night»

But at thy Nod, all active as the Light;

Secure in solid Sloth, thou there dost reign.

And feel'st the iayn of Love without the Pain.

Each Female courts thee with a wishing Bye,

While thou with awful Pride walk'st careless by*

'TUl thy kmd Pledge, at last marks out the Dame

Thou fanciest most, to quench thy present Flame:

Then from thy Bed submissive she retires.

And, thankful for the Grace, no more requires.

No loud Reproach, nor fond unwelcome Sound

Of Womens Tongues, thy sacred "Ban does wound;

If any do, a nimble Mute strait ties

The True-love Knot, and stops her foolish Cries.

Thou fear'st no injur'd Kinsman's threatening Blade,

Nor Midnight Ambushes by Rivals laid;

While here, with aching Hearts our Joys we taste.

Disturbed by Swords, l&e Democi^s Feast

JOHN AND JONE (From Merry DroUerie. i66x)

IF you will give ear. And hearken a while what I shall tell, I think I must come near. Or else you cannot hear me well: It was a maid, as I heard say. That in her Bftasteres Chamber lay. For maidens must it not refuse. In Yeoman's houses they it use In a truckle bed to lie, Or in a bed that stands thereby, Her Master and Her Dame Would have the maid do the same.

This maid she could not sle^

When as she heard the bedstead creack,

When Captain Standish stout

Made his Dame cry out you hurt my back.

Fie she said you do me wrong.

You lie so sure my breast iq>on.

But you are such another man.

You'd have me do more than I can;

[114]

Fie Master, then quoth honeet Jone» I pray you let my Dame alone; Fie, quoth she, what a coyl you keep, I cannot take no rest nor sleep.

This was enough to make

A Maiden sick and full of pain.

For she did fling and kick.

And swore she'd tear her smock in twain;

But now to let you understand,

Th^ kq>t a man whose name was John,

To whom this Maiden went anon.

And unto him she made her moan:

Tell me John, tell me the same.

What doth my Master to my Dame?

Tell me John, and do not lie,

What ails my Dame to squeiJc and cry?

Quoth John, your Master he

Doth give jrour Dame a steel at night.

And though she find such fault.

It is her only heart's delight:

And you Jone, for your part,

You would halve one with all your heart;

Yes indeed, quoth honest Jone,

Therefore to4hee I make my moan;

But John if I may be so bold.

Where is there any to be sold?

At London then quoth honest John,

Next market day 111 bring thee one.

What is the price, quoth Jone, If I should chance to stand in need? Why twenty shillings, then quoth John For twenty shillings you may speed; The Maid then went unto her Chest, And fetch'd him twenty shilHngs just: There John, quoth she, here is the Coyn, And prethee have me in thy mind. And, honest John, out of my store 111 give thee two odd shillings more.

To market then went John, When he had the money in his purse. He domineered and swore. And was as stout as any horse: Some he spent in Wine and Beer, And some in Cakes and other good Cheer,

[XZ5]

And tome he carried home agtfai

To serve hU turn another time;

O John, quoth the, thou't welcome home;

God-«-merc7, quoth he, gentle Jone;

But prethee John, do let me feel.

Hast thou brought me home a steel?

Yes that I have, quoth John,

And then he took her by the hand.

He led her straight into a room

Where she could see nor Sun nor Moon,

The door to him he straight did clap.

He put the steel into her lap.

And then the Maid began to feel.

Cods foot, quoth she, 'tis a good^ steel:

But tell me, John, and do not lie.

What makes these two things hang here by}

Jone, to let thee understand

Thef tt the two odd shillings thou putst in my hand (If I had known so much before

1 would have given thee two shillings more.)

CUCKOLD'S HAVEN (Anonymous. From Roxburgh^ BMadg* Vol. I, 1871)

COMB, neighbors, follow me, that cuckolized be^ That all the town may see our slavish misery: Let every man who keeps a bride Take heed he be not homified.

Though narrowly I do watch.

And use, lock, bolt and latch.

My wife will me o'er match.

My forehead I may scratch:

For though I want both time and tide,

I often times am homified.

For now the times so grown.

Men cannot keep their own.

But every slave, unknown;

Will reap what we have sown:

Yea, though we ke^ tiiem by our side.

We now and then are homified.

They have so many wajrs

[X16]

By nights or die by days* That though our wealth decays. Yet th^ our horns will raise: And many of them take a pride To keep their husbands hornified.

Oh what n case is this! oh, what a grief it is!

My wife hath learned to Idas

And thinks it not amiss:

She often times doth me deride.

And tells me, I am hornified.

What ever I do say.

She will have her own way;

She scometh to obey;

Shell take time while she may;

And if I beat her back and side

In spite, I shall be hornified.

Now yoo would little think How they ,will friendly link, And how^! they sit and drink TUl they begin to wink: And then, if Vulcan will but ride. Some cuckold shall be hornified.

A woman that will be drunk Will easily play the punk; For when her wits are sunJc All keys will fit her trunk: Then by experience oft is tried. Poor men that may be hornified.

Thus honest men must bear

And 'tis in vain to fear

For we are ne're the near

Our hearts with grief to tear

For, whUe we mourn, it is their pride

The more to keep us hornified.

And be we great or small He must be at their call; How e'er the cards do fall We men must suffer all: Do what we can, we must abide The Pain of being hornified.

If once th«y bid us go.

We dare not twice say "no,"

[1x7]

Although too well we know

• Tis to our grief and woe:

Nay, we are glad their faults to hide.

Though often we are homified.

If I my wife provoke

With words in anger spoke.

She swears shell makt all smoke.

And I must be her cloak:

Her baseness and my wrongs I hide.

And patiently am homified.

When these good gossips meet

In alley, lane or street,

(Poor man, we do not see iti)

With wine and sugar sweet

They arm themselves, and then, beside

Their husbands must be homified.

Not your Italian locks

(Which seems a paradox)

Can keep these hens from cocks,

TiU they are paid with a poz:

So long as they can go or ride,

Theyll have their husbands homified.

For if we them do blame Or tell them of their shame^— Although the men we name With whom they did the same They^ swear whoever spoke it lied: Thus still poor men are homified.

CONSTANT, FAIR AND FINE, BETTY

(By Richard Crimsal. From Roxburgte Baitads. Vol. 1)

NOW of my sweet Betty I must speak in praise; I never did see such a lass in my days: She is kind and loving and constant to me: Wherefore I will speak of my pretty Betty.

Betty is comely, and Betty is Besides, she is pretty, and pleaseth my mind: She is a brave bonny lass, lovely and free; The best that ere was is my pretty Betty.

[ii8]

V J^^t^'^'^v^^^^^^m^^^m^^^ym^BKSS^^

Her hair it doth glister like to threads of gold; All those that do meet her admire to behold: Her they take for Juno, so glorious seems she. More brighter than Lima is pretty Betty.

Her ^es th^ do twinkle like stars in the sky: She is without wrinkle; her forehead is high: Pair Venus for beauty the like cannot be; Thus I show my duty to pretty Betty.

She hath fine cherry cheeks and sweet coral Ups: There is many one seeks, love with kisses and dips; But she, like Diana, flies their company; She is my Tytana, my pretty Betty.

Her chin it is dimpled, her visage is fair; She is finely templed; she is neat and rare; If Helen were living she could not please me; I joy in praise giving, my pretty Betty.

Her skin white as snow, her breast soft as down. All her parts below they are firm and sound; She's chaste in affection as Penelope, Thus ends the complexion of pretty Betty.

THB SECOND PART

Now of her conditions something VU declare, Por some have suspicions, she's false, being fair: But she's not falsehearted In any degree; I'm glad I consorted with pretty Betty.

Her words and her actions they are all as one. And all her affection is on me alone: She hates such as vary from true constancy; Long I must not tarry from pretty Betty.

Well met, my sweet honey, my joy and delightl Oh how hath my cony dove ere since last night? Oh what says my dearest,— what sayest to me?" Of all maids the rarest is pretty Betty.

She: Kind love, thou art welcome to me day and night; Why came you not home? I did long for your sight: My joy and my pleasure is only in thee: Thou art all the treasure of pretty Betty.

[X19]

^'Hadst thoQ not come quickly I think I ihodld di«; For I was grown sickly and did not know why. Now thou art my doctor and phgrsic to me; In love tfaoa art proctor for pretty Betty.

"Sweet, when shall we marry and lodge in one bed? Long I cannot carry, not my maidenhead: And there's none shall have the same, but only thee; Tis thee that I crave to love pretty Betty.

He: "Bess, be thou contented, well quickly be wed; Our friends are consented, to all hath been said: Thou shalt be my wife ere much older I be. And ni lead my life with pretty Betty."

These lovers were married and immediately; And all was well carried; they lived lovingly: Let fair maids prove constant, like pretty Btuj Fine Bess hath the praise on't and worth it is she.

THE WITTY WESTERN LASS (By Robert Qay. From Roxburgbe Bailads. Vol. Ill, 1880)

You maids, that with /our friends whole nights hare q>ent. Beware back fallings, tor fear of the crent.

SWEET Luanda, lend me d^ aid. Thou art my helper and no other; Pity the state of a teeming maid.

That never was a wife, yet must be a mother: By my presage, it should be a boy

That thus lies tumbling in my belly; Yield me some ease, to cure my annoy. And list to the grief I now shall tell ye.

I was beloved everywhere.

And much admired for my beauty; Young men thought they happy were

Who best to me could show their duty: But now, alack t; pains in my back.

And cruel gripings in my belly. Do force me to cry, O sick am I,

I fear I shall die, alack, and wdlyl

Instead of mirth, now may I weep. And sadly for to sit lamenting,

[lao]

Since he I loved no faith dodi keep. Nor seeks no means for my contenting:

But all regardless of my moan^ Or what lies tumhling in my belly.

He into Sweden now is gone. And left me to cry, alack, and welly t

It doth the proverb

Polly it were for to complain me— Those that desired my company

Scornfully now they disdain me: Wanting his sight who was my delight.

And cruel grippings in my belly, Do force me to cry, O sick am I,

I fear I shall die, alack, tad wellyl

Thus am I to the world a scorn.

My dearest friends will not come nigh me; Shall I then for his absence mourn

That for his dearest doth deny me? No, no, no, I will not do so.

With patience I my grief will smother. And, as he hath cozened me.

So will I, by cunning gull another.

Incontinent to Troynovant,

For my content, I'll thither hie me. Where privately from company

Obscurely I'll lie, where none shaU descry me; And when I'm eased of my pain

And cruel grippings in my belly, I for a maid will pass again.

And need not to cry, alack, and wellyl

Some tradesman there I will deceive

By my modesty and carriage. And I will so myself behave

As by some trick to get a marriage: And when I'm married, I wiU so carry it.

As none shall know it by my belly That ever I have formerly

Had cause to cry, alack, and wellyl

And if he be a husband kind, I'll true and constant be unto him;

Obedient still he shall me find. With good respect I'll duty owe him;

But if he crabbed be and cross,

And basely beat me, back and belly, As Vukan'B Knight, 111 fit him right. And scorn to cry, alack, and wellyl

A secret friend 111 keep in store

For my content and delectation. And now and then in the tavern roar

With jovial gallants, men of fashion: Sack, or claret, I will call for it,

111 scorn to want, or pinch my belly. But merry will be, in <^mpany:

No more will I cry, alack, and wellyl

And if I cannot to my mind

A husband get that will maintain me, 111 show myself to each man kind.

In hope that it some love will gain me; But yet so wary I will be,

111 shun from ought may wrong my belly. Through misery to cause me cry.

As formerly, alack, and wel^l

Had he I loved but constant proved.

And not have been to me deceitful. No subtle Sinon should have moved

Me to those odious courses hateful; But since that he proves false to me.

Not pitying what is in my belly. No more I will grieve, but merry will be.

And cry no more, alack, and wellyl

With resolutions firmly bent,

111 cast off care and melancholy. Sorrow and grief and discontent.

To fret and vex, it is but a foUy; Or seek by woe to overthrow,

Or wrong the first fruits of my belly: No, no, no, no. 111 not say sa

No more will I cry, alack, and welly!

COME TO IT AT LAST (Anonymous. Roxburgbe Baiimds. Vol. ill)

«<i

TELL me, Jenny, tell me roundly, When you will your heart surrender; Faith and troth I'll love you soundly,

[xaa]

• TiB I that was the first Pretender.

Ne'er say nay, nor delay.

Here's my heart, and here's my hand too; AH that's mine shall he thine,

Body and goods at your command too."

"Ah I how many maids," qooth Jenny,

"Have you promised to he true to? Piet I think the devil's in you

To kiss a body so as you dol What d'ye do? let me go,

I can't abide such foolish doing; Get you gone, you naughty man.

Pie I Is this your way of wooing?"

"Prithee Jenny, don't deny me;

Whence this coyness? Why these Uushes? Sure you use them but to try me.

And they suit not with your wishes: Do not frown, but sit down

On this primrose bed, my sweeting, And, my love, this shall prove

To thee and me a happy meeting.'

n

"How many maids that have believed

This," quoth Jenny, "as your meaning? Have you heretofore deceived?

Yet you think it is no sinning. Pie I I say, stand awayl

Naughty man, I hate such fooling I Pie I O sad I I think you're mad

To rumple a body thus with pulling.'

f»

U »i

Tis unkind you thus deny me.

When I tell you that I love ye; Sit you down, and do but try me.

And you better will approve me. Come, my Jenny, best of any.

In your true love's arms I'll place you; Sigh not thus, but let's buss.

Love and Hymen both shall grace you.'*

"This," quoth Jenny, "is but your saying. You men are false, 'tis often proved so;

Poor maids you long to be betraying; Oh I fiet I won't be loved so.

What d'ye do? let me go; Pie I naughty mant fie I let me loose:

[zaa]

OhI UcM me, how you press me, I think you're wild to hog one thus.**

In your eyes I see a yielding,

I prithee do not thus dissemble; Nor your heart with doubt be shielding.

But the Queen of Love resemble. See, my arms wait your charms;

And I must have no denial; Say not nay, nor delay

But of my passion make a trisl"

What is it you would be doing?

Pish, I can no longer tarry; Nay, forbear, is this your wooing?

Avads, I would not till I marryl Nay, I won't! pray now, don't!

Oh me! fie! nay 'tis evil! Oh! What's this? I profess

You grow more and more unciviL"

•

'The God of Love gives commission.

And these pleasant shades invite us; Nay, you must grant my kind petition.

Since to love all things incite us. My dear heart, do not start,

Jayn attend you, transports seize you; Still to yon 111 be true.

In your arms, thus ever please you."

"Oh, you hurt me; nay, forbear now;

What d'ye do? you have betrayed me; Oh, I'm ruined!— and I fear now

You're about for to un-maid me. Take your course, use your force.

Kill me, kill me, if you please; Nay, 111 die vrillingly.

In this sweet death I find such esse."

A PLEASANT NEW BALLAD

Being a pieasmnt discourse l>etweea a country lass and a

young tailor

(Anonymoas. Roxburgbe Baiiada* Vol. ill)

IN harvest-time I walked hard by a corn-close side; I hearing people talk,

[124]

I looked about, and spied A young man and a maid,

together they did lie; When you hear it told,

Youll laugh full heartily.

She was as buxom a lass

as any in our town; She will not let you pass,

but shell call you to sit down. A tailor passing by,

she hit him on the heel; You are very welcome. Sir,

to sit you down and feel:

What mouQr's in my purse

at your command shall be. If you will go along

to Marston Wake with me." He hearing her say so,

and seeing her to sn^e. Was charmed with her, so

he sat him down a while.

And having groped her purse,

and taken all her money. He groped again, and missed, and caught her by the con«y. Where am I now?" quoth he,

another have I found;" ^It's not the same," quoth she, "for this is tufted round.

"If it be tufted round," quoth she,

"there is good reason for it. Therein such treasure lies

will make a tailor sport" He hearing her say so,

being a frolicsome lad. Was willing for to know

more of the fringed bag.

With that he eagerly, to feel put forth his hand. Nay, hold, good sir," said she,

go not before you stand: Bzcept you take your yard the depth of it to measure^

M

M

Yoifll find the pune so deq^, Yoall hardly come to the treaeure."

He hearing her aay so,

it put him to a stand; She seeing him dismayed*

she took his yard in hand; ^Is this your yard," quoth she,

^ this your tailor's measure? It is too short for me,

it is not standard measure.**

The tailor being abashed,

she told him that it was More fitter for a man,

than such a puny ass. She bids him now be gone,

since he could make no sport; And said, '^ou art too duU

to enter such a fort*'

Then looking fiercely at him,

she said, '^ou sneaking fool, Qo straight away to Vulcan

and let him mend thy tooL And tell him that Dame Venus

at him is almost mad. For sending to her school

such an unfit lad.**

Yon tailors that attempt

fringed bags to measure. Be sure your yards be sealed,

and of full Standard Measure.

THE NEW-MARRIED COUPLE (Anonymous. Roxbatghe BmliadB. Vol. IV. 1883)

€*

JABAR Jin, I ne'er thought until last nighty ^^ That Cupid hath yielded such sweet delight; but when thy sdEt arms with mine are twined, *

The Ivy the Oak did not closer bind; Thou gaVst me sweet kisses, that might invite

B*en in old shepherds a new delight; Young CoUn did ne*er with Msrrtilla so bright, £njoy such a sweet, such a pleasing night.**

[196]

• Vj Ned,** (qnoth the) ^tlnce I haye tiiee here,

I will be a part for to please my dear: And in tiie soft drcnit of my pale^

Feed either upaa the high hill or dale. Graze on my soft lipa, if those lulls be dry

Stray further down where fountains lie: Thy doe, thy fair breeder, will always be nigh.

To please her young wanton with Art and Qye.**

^Thou shalt be a banquet to my taste^

On which I will always delight to feast; As sweet as young CoUey the fanner's cow.

As sweet as the hay in his bam, I tow: As sweet as young roses that all admire,

Or as May blossoms upon tiie briar: As sweet as blind midnight, with maiden's desire;

As sweet as sack-posset by sea-cool fire."

^'Ods Boars,** quoth Ned, 111 forsake my tiiumps.

And brisUy bestir my old hob-nail stumps; The lasses shall foot it, tiie lads shall sing.

And echoes all round with our joys shall ring. Doll shall leave dairy, and James brown cow.

And so shall brisk Roger his cart and plough. To meet us young Nancy and William come now:

We shall haye rare dances and jigs enow.

'Though Bachelors may liye merry lives,

Yet we will not change that have buxom wives. Upon the soft pillow of their breast

We love-sick lie warm in Cupid's nest What though there be cuckolds, we need not fear.

Of wives, we alwajrs will take such care. Although the brows bud, we, the horns shan't wear.

To make us look noUe and like tiie deer.

"If JQl should within the curtains chide,

My antlers and head in the sheets 111 hide; And when my good housewife pot boils o'er.

To cool her hot broth 111 attempt no more. It is, I confess, the depth of skill

To lead silly woman by their own will; But while her tongue gallops my tongue shall lie still.

And thus 111 endeavor to please JiU, JilL"

"Dear Neddy," quoth JiU, "name not things so soon,

With us 'tis but yet our honey-moon. Come, let us to please each other strive.

And gati^er like bees within our hives.

[Z37]

Thon mnit not be like a doll idle drone. Nor mind about horns, for tfaou shalt have none:

But follow thy plow by Dobbin and Roan, And to my milking 111 go with Joan.

• • Dear Jill, tiiere are many old complaints;

All wives that look fair don't prove all saints; For many men's wives are like the moon.

That alters each morning, each night and noon. Yet for my own part, I will never fear.

But shall try always to please my dear. If I can, my wife will hold almost a year:

This rid<Ue, in riddle nine months will dear.'

M

THE BEGGAR WENCH TURNED INTO A

DEVIL

(Aaoaymoiu, 1688. Roxbargtm Baltics. Vol. IV)

A

COUNTRY gentleman came np to town To taste the delights of the dty Who had for his servant a jocular down.

Accounted to be very witty: His master one night got drunk as a rat.

And swore he would turn him away, sir. Unless he would get him a bit for his cat And into his chamber convey her.

Some jolly dame he was willing to have.

And gave to his Bumpkin a guinea, Who had the wit not to give it, but save

The far better part of the money: To find out a punch, he walked in the street.

And backwards and forwards kept trudging; At last a young beggar-wench he did meet.

Who was in great want of a lodging.

Sweetheart," said he, if thoult give thy consent

To go home, and lie with my master, 111 give thee half a crown for thy content.

And save thee from any disaster." It being late, she was fearing the watch,

Besides it was very cold weather. So that they quickly both made up the match.

And trudged to his master together.

Bumpkin was arch, as he homewards did come.

He save her a bout by the way, sir; Then to his master he carried her home.

Who in a dark chamber lay, sir: He bid her be sure let his master not know,

By any means, she was a number; But bid her to rise before daylight, and go.

Or, Adswoundsl He would heartily thump her.

his Trull to the chamber he led.

And then to his bed took his way, sir; She quickly undressed and groped into bed

And close to the gentleman lay, sir; Eager of joy, he gave her a kiss.

And hugged her with flaming desire; The gentleman swore that she smell so of cheese,

He could not endure to lie by her.

He bid her get up to a place in the room

Where a bottle stood of a rose-water. And wash her face to take away the fume.

Then come into bed again after. A bottle of ink there happened to stand.

And for the Rosewater she took it. Pouring a spoonful out in her hand

And over her face did she stroke it.

Then to their joys they eagerly fell.

Till at last it began to be light, sir; Then, looking, he thought her the devil of hell.

And ran out of bed in a fright, sir. Crying, "The devil, the devil was there;

She, being affrighted, ran after. In a tattered old smocl^ crying, ^here is he, where?

Which put the whole street in a laughter.

THE DELUDED LASS'S LAMENTATION

(Anonymous. Roxburgbe Bmitrnda. Vol. IV)

He. Is she gone? let her go. I do not care.

Though she has a dainty thing, I had my share; She has more land than I, by one whole acre, I plowed in her ground, he who will may take her.

She. Did you not promise me when you lay by me^ That you would marry me: can you deny me?

[139]

He If I did prondM thee» 'twas but to try diee» Brinf in your witness lor now I defy tiiee.

She. Did yon not swear by tiie powers aboye^

That yon would marry. If I'd grant srour love?

He. Of an fair lasses I tiiought the bonniest.

And would have married thee hadst thou kept honest

She. 'Twas your deluding tongue made me miscarry, Because you promised with me for to marry.

He. Had not you yielded so soon to lie by me^ Then to have married I had not denied thee.

She. I never with saan, except it were you.

Not thlnkhig you would have proved so untrue.

He. If to lie by me thou then hadst refused. Then I thy person sure ne'er had abused.

She. You with the art of a vigorous lover.

Told me you pleasure and joys could discover; But your false pleasure did last but a moment. And for that pleasure I suffer more torment

He. Sweet, fair, charming Beauty you then had in store. Had virtue been added, there needed no more; But if you had not been as willing as I, You had not yielded with me for to lie.

She. Your promise made me to let you lie by me,

I tiiought you constant, and could not deny tiiee: But had I known the intent of your passion. Thus for to grieve there had been no occasion.

He. Thou fond and foolish girl, leave thy lamenting, When thou art wiser, then FU be relenting; When thou again art a virgin 111 wed thee, And then with license I boldly may bed thee.

She. You pleasure take to rail at my misfortune,

WMlst my poor heart does ache to think of parting: But since that you are resolved to fly me; I hope no other lass will ere lie by tiiee.

Farewell, tiiou perjured youth, false and deceitful! I ne'er thought you would have proved so ungrateful;

[Z30]

Firtt by deluding wcMrdi thus to deceive me^ Having obtained your ende^ icornfiiUy leave me.

Do but remember, now, when yon came to me» Bvery solemn vow made to nndo me; By your alluring charms I was invited. Yon for my present harms may be requited

, « 

Being the worst of men, first to defile me And this no sooner done, but straight revile me; From which I perfectly now do discover You were no more, at best, but a false lover.

Let Lasses young and fair, that hear this story, Of a false lover beware, blast not your glory; For many young men will strive to decdve you. And when they have their will, straightway wUl leave yon.

LOVERS POWER (Anonymous. Roxburgbe BmilmdB. Vol. VIL 1893)

nrWO lovers by chance they did meet^ possessed with a -^ mutual flame. And now you shall hear how they greet, for I will declare

the same: Quoth he, ^hon hast q>arks in thine eyes, that do kindle

in me such a fire, I comforts shall clearly despise^ 1/ yoa do gtot grmnt me my

dcMireJ*

^O Sir,** quoth this pretty young maid. Let me know what 'tis yon would have?

For yon need not at all be afraid, I will grant what in rea«  son yon crave:

For I ne'er in my life would deny, what a man did in jus- tice require;

But you and I soon shall comply, mad Vll warrmnt PU qaeneh tby tov0*B are.**

With that he began to draw nearer, and gave her an amorous

kiss: He said, he loved dearer, and dearer, and longed to taste of

the Uiss:

[i3x]

Quoth he, *"Tit the Babei in tiiint tjf, that act my

heart all on fire. Then do not thy lover deapiae, kut grant me my wlak mn4

deaireJ'

^li tiion art ao eameat to dally, come make uae of time while

you may. Thy akill I will not under yalue, then prithee, Love, let^a to

the play: Methinka thou art aomewhat too tedioua, 'tia time we ahoold

have been nigher. To linger it aeema to be grievoua, Ptt warrmttt Pit qaeach

thy lov^a ilre.'*

The young man auppoaing her greedy, fell eagerly unto the

aport. He found ahe waa wanting and needy, and neefleaa it waa

for to court But aa they were hugging together, ahe cried, **0 come nigher

and nigher.** Hia heart waa aa light aa a feather, Mud be bmd both bis wiMb

and dcalrc.

The Damael waa mightily pleaaed, and kiaaed him a dionaand

timea o'er. Quoth ahe, Now my aorrowa are eaaed, but I muat have a

little touch more:

lie down for a while to reat thee, that I may eigoy vay

deaire,

1 hope that the fatea they will Ueaa thee; / qaencb, but tbau

kladleat my tire."

No longer he atood there delaying, but atoutly he fell to

it again. Where he gave a prod at their playing, the damael returned

him ten: For ahe grew more eager and eager, her eyea they did aparUe

like fire. Quoth he, "I do own Fm the weaker, but Btltl I ealoy my

desire.^

Quoth ahe, Now how ahould I be aerved, if thou ahould'at

have got me with child? But 'tia no more than I deaerved, for I waa a little too wild; I thought long till I did begin it, and burnt with a fervent

deaire: What pleaaure I felt one minute, adds fuel to amoroua Sra"

[13a]

The young man began for to tire, and hit cudgel began to lay down.

Which made the yoong damiel admire, and atraight ahe began for to frown:

Qnoth he, ^I have done what ia fit, no reason can more re- quire;"

But her brows upon him then ahe knit, giiif alie BtUi did, wmnt her dcMire.

Then yoong men provide and be lusty, when you do come

to be tried; For maidens look sour and crusty, when their wanta cannot

be supplied: But 'twas an old Proverb I heard, though men burst with

amorous ire. That Damsels when once they come near, couid queacb tbeir

most vigorous fire.

THE FIRST LOVE OF ADAM AND EVE (By John Milton. Prom Parmdiao Lost* 1674)

'T^HUS talking, hand in hand alone they passed -^ On to their blissful bower. It was a place Chosen by the sovereign Planter, when he framed AU things to Man'a delightful use; the roof Of thickest covert was inwoven shade. Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub, Fenced up the verdant wall; each beauteous fiower, Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine. Reared high their flouriahed heads between, and wrought Mosaic; under foot the violet, Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay Broidered the ground, more coloured than the stone Of costliest emblem: Other creature here. Beast, bird, insect, or worm, durst enter none; Such was their awe of Man. In shadier bower More sacred and sequestered, though but feigned Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor nymph. Nor Faunus haunted. Here, in close recess. With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs. Espoused Eve decked first her nuptial bed And heavenly quires the hymenean sung. What day the genial Angel to our sire

[233]

Brought her, m naked beauty more adorned.

More lovely than Pandora, whom die Gods

Endowed with all their gifts, and, O I too like

In sad event, when to the unwiser son

Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnared

Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged

On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire.

Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood.

Both turned, and under open sky adored

The God that made both sky, air, earth and heaven

Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe.

And starry pole: '^hou also madest the night.

Maker Omnipotent; and thou the day.

Which we in our appointed work employed.

Have finished, happy in our mutual help

And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss

Ordained by thee; and this delicious place.

For us too large, where thy abundance wants

Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground.

But thou hast promised from us two a race

To fill the earth, who shall with us extcd

Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake

And when we seek, as now, the gift of sleep.**

This said unanimous, and other rites Observing none, but adoration pure Which God likes best, into their inmost bower Handed they went; and eased the putting off Those troublesome disguises which we wear. Straight side by side were laid; nor turned, I ween, Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites Mysterious of connubial love refused: Whatever hypocrites austerdy talk Of purity, and place, and innocence. Defaming as impure what God declares Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to alL Our Maker bids increase; who bids abstain But our destroyer, foe to God and Man? Hail, wedded Love, mysterious law, true source Of human offspring, sole propriety In Paradise, of all things common else I By thee adult'rous love was driven from men Among the bestial herds to range; by thee. Founded in reason, loyal, just and pure. Relations dear, and all the charities Of father, son, and brother, first were known. Far be it that I should write thee sin or blame. Or think the unbefitting holiest place

[134]

Pcrpetnal fountain of domestic tweets, Whose bed is undefiled and diaste pronounced. Present or past, as saints and patriarchs used! Here love his golden shafts employs, here lights His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings. Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile Of harlots, lovdless, joyless, unoideared. Casual fruition: nor in court amours Mixed dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball. Or serenade, which the starved lover sings To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. These lulled by nightingales embracing slept. And on their naked limbs the flow'ry roof Showered roses, which the mom repaired. Sleep on. Blest pair I and, Ol yet happiest if ye seek No happier state, and know to know no morel

THE UNFORTUNATE MILLER (Anonymous. 1685. Bmgtord Baiimdn. Pi. Ill)

A LL you that desire to hear of a jest, ^^ Come listen awhile, and it shall be exprest; It is of a Miller that lived very near. The like of this ditty you never did hear, A handsome young Damsel she came to his mill. To have her com ground with a ready good will. As soon as he saw her fair beauty so bright. He caused this young Damsel to tarry all night

he, my dear jewd, it will be near mom. Before my man Lawrence can grind my dear's com. And therefore if thou wilt be ruled by me. At home in my parlour thy lodging shall be. For I am enflamed with thy amorous charms. And therefore this night thou shalt sleep in my arms, I swear it, and therefore it needs must be so. It is but in vain for to answer me no.

At this the young Damsel so blushing did stand. But sttaightways the master took her by the hand. And leading her home to young Qillian his wife. Said he, my sweet honey, the joy of my life. Be kind to this maid, for her father I know. And let her lie here in the parlour below,

[X35]

Stout Lawrence my servant, and I, we thaU stay All night in the n^ till the dawning of day.

To what he desired she straightways agreed* And then to the mill he did hasten with speed. He ready was there to leap out of his skin. To think of the hed which he meant to lie in; Now when he was gone, the maid told his intent To Qillian, and they a new project invent. By which they well fitted this crafty young blade; The miller by Lawrence a cuckold was made.

The maid and his wife they changed bed for that night. So that when the miller came for his delight. Straightway to the parlour bed he did repair. Instead of the Damsel, wife Gillian was there. Which he did imagine had been the young Um, When after some hours in pleasure they past, He rose, and returned to the mill like one wild. For fear he hath got the young Damsel with child.

Then to his man Lawrence the miller did say,

I have a young damsel both bonny and gay.

Her eyes are like diamonds, her cheeks sweet and fair,

They may with the Rose and the Lily compare,

Her lips they are like the rich coral for red.

This lass is at home in my parlour in bed.

And if you go home you may freely enjoy

With her the sweet pleasure, for she is not coy.

His master's kind proffer he did not refuse.

But was brisk and airy, and pleased with the news.

But said, to yourself much beholding I am.

And for a requital 111 give you my ram;

This done, lusty Lawrence, away home he goes.

And stript of his coat, breeches, likewise shoes and hose.

And went into bed with young Gillian his dame;

Yet Lawrence for that was not worthy of blame.

He little imagined his dame was in bed. And therefore his heart was the freer from dread. The minutes in pastime and pleasure they spent. Unknown to them both, she enjoyed true content. Now after a while he his dame had embraced. He rose and returned to the mill in all haste. Telling his master of all the delight. Which he had enjoyed with that damsel this night

[136]

Next morning the maid to the mill did repair.

The miller and Lawrence his servant was there.

His master then whispered this word in her ear,

How like you to lie with a miller, my dear?^'

At this the yomig damsel then laughing out right;

And said, I changed beds with young Gillian last night:

If you enjoyed any it was your sweet wife.

For my part, I ne'er lay with a man in my life.

At this he began for to rave, stamp and stare.

Both scratching his elbows and ptdling his hair,

And like one distracted about he did run.

And often times ending, Hal what have I done,

Was ever poor miller so finely betrayed,

By Lawrence, my man, I am a cuckold made.

The Damsel she laughed and was pleased in her mind.

And said he was very well served in his kind.

A REMEDY FOR THE GREEN SICKNESS

(Anon3rmoiis. i68j. From Brngiord Bmitrndg* Pt« III)

L

A HANDSOME buxom lass lay panting on her bed, ^^ She looked as green as grass and mournfully she said: Bzcept I have some lusty lad to ease me of my pain,

I cannot live, I sigh and grieve,

My life I now disdain.

But if some bonny lad would be so kind to me. Before I am quite mad to end my misery. And cool these burning flames of fire Which rage in this my breast. Then I should be from torments free and be forever blest.

I am both young and fair, yet 'tis my fortune hard,

I'm ready to despair, my pleasures are debarred:

And I, poor soul, cannot enjoy nor taste of love's bliss.

Whilst others meet, those joys so sweet Oh! what a life is this.

Were but my passion known, sure some would pity me. That lie so long alone, for want of company. Had I some young man in my arms

[137]

That would be brisk and braye^

My ptdxm would end»

He*d prove my friend. And keq;> me from my grave.

From tfaia tormenting pain I cannot long endnre, My hopes are all in vain if I expect a cnre^ Without some thundering lad comes in And with a courage bold.

Grant me delight,

rd him requite^ With silver and with gold.

11.

A gallant lively lad that in the next room lay, It made his heart full glad to hear what she did say. Into the room immediately this youngster he did rush.

Some words he spoke.

Love to provoke. But she straight cried out, Hush!

My father he will hear and then we're both undone^ Quotii he, love do not fear, FU venture for a son. The coverlet he then threw off and jumped into the bed,

And in a trice,

He-kissed her twice. Then to his chamber fled.

And blushing all alone this damsel sweating lay. Her troubles they were gone, thus softly did she say: Had I but known that lover's bliss Had been so sweet a taste, I'd ne'er have stayed. Nor begged nor prayed. That so much time did waste.

This lusty youthful boy, that banished all my pain, I must his love enjoy ere it be long again.

For gold and silver III not spare

Can that his courage prove. He has an art; without all smart.

Green sickness to remove.

A sigh she gave and said, OhI come again to me. For I am hidf afraid I shall not cured be

At this first bout, then prithee try

To help me once again;

[X38]

Count me not bold, I'll give tfaee gold Enough for all tl^ pain.

THE MAID'S COMPLAINT (Anonymous. i68o. Bagiord Baitrndg. Pi. Ill)

'Y^OUNQ men give ear to me awhile ^ If yon to merriment are inclined, And ru tdl you a story that shall make yon Of late done by a woman kind; And as she went mnsing all alone, I heard her to sigh, to sob and make moan. For M dill done, dill doaep dill done done, Quoth ab0, Vm undone ii I bmven^t m dill done,

For I am a maid and a very good maid. And sixteen years of age am I, And fain would I part with my Maidenhead, If any good fellow would with me lie; But none to me ever proffered such love As to lie by my side and give me a shove With bia dill done, etc.

happy were I, etc.

At night when I do go to bed Thinking for to take my rest. Strange fancies come into my head

1 pray for that which I love best: For it is a comfort, and pleasure doth bring To women that hath such a pretty fine tUng, Called a will done, etc. Then bappy were I, etc.

Last week I walked in tiie strand,

I met my sister, a handsome lass,

I kindly took her by the hand.

This question of her I did ask:

Whe^er she kept still a maiden alone.

Or whether her maidenhead was fled or gone.

For a dill done, etc.

O bappy were I, etc.

IL

Kind sister, quoth she, to tell you the trudi. It has gone this twelve months day;

[X30]

I fredy gaye it to a handsome yootii. That used with me to sport and play: To grieve for the loss of it I never shall, If I had ten thousand I could give 'em all For m din done, etc.

tmppy were I, etc.

She making this answer, I bid her adieu. And told her I could no longer stay,

1 let go her hand, and I straight left the strand. And to Covent-Qarden I hasted away:

Where lively young gallants do use to resort, To pick up young lasses and show 'em fine sport With hie din done, etc. Obp bmppy were I, etc.

I would I'd a sweet heart, as some maids have That little know how to pleasure a man, I'd keep him frolicsome, gallant and brave. And make as much on him as any one can: Before any good thing he should lack I'd sell all my coats, and smock from my back For bla dill done, etc. Then hmppy were I, etc.

This young man I have declared in brief The cause of my sorrows and woe. And if any of you will 3rield me relief Speak cheerfully to me, say yea or no: I live at the Sign of the Cup and the Can, And will be loving to any young man. For hie dili done, etc. And ail my, etc.

Besides, young men, I have store of mon^. Good red gold and silver bright. And he shall be master of every penny. That marries with me and yields me delight. For why f other night I heard my dame Nancy Declare how her master did tickle her fancy With bla din done, etc.

Then come to me, my bonny lad While I am in my prime, I pray And take a good bargain while it is to be had. And do not linger your time away. 'TIS money, you see, makes many a man rich: Then come along, rut on the place that doth itch

[140]

Pot m dill done, dill done, dill done done, Tmko all my money, end give me m dill done.

ADVICE TO BACHELORS (Anonymoiu. Prom Merry Drollery. 1691)

T F thou wilt know how to choose a ahrewy ^ Come listen mito me, 111 tell you the signs, and the very very lines Of Loves Physiognonqr.

If her hair be brown, with a flaxen crown.

And graced with a nutmeg hue. Both day and night, she's best for delight.

And her colour everlasting true.

If her forehead be high, with a rolling eye,

And lips that will sweetly melt: The thing below is better you know.

Although it be of f ner felt.

If her hair be red, shell sport in the bed, But take heed of the danger though:

For if she carry fire in her upper attire. What a devil doth she cany below?

If her hair be yellow, she'll tempt each fellow;

In the Immanuel Colledge: For she that doth follow the colour of Apollo,

May be like him in seal and knowledge.

If she be pale, and a Virgin stale,

Inclin'd to the sickness green: Some raw fruit give her, to open her liver.

Her stomach, and the thing between.

If her Nose be long, and sharp as her Tongue,

Take heed of a desperate maid: For she that will swagger with an incurable dagger

With stab and a kissing betrayed.

If her face and her neck have here and there a speck, Ne'er stick, but straight you go stride her:

For it hath been trsr'd and never denied. Such flesh ne'er fails the Rider.

[X4X]

If none of these thy fancy will please.

Go seek tl^ complexion store, And take for thy saint a Lady that will paint.

Such beauties thou maist adore.

If beauty do write in her face red and white. And Cupid his flowers there breed.

It Pleaseth the eye, but the rose will die^ As soon as it runs to seed.

WOMEN'S DELIGHT (Anonymous. From Merry Drollery. 1691)

npHERB dwelt a maid in the Conny-gate '- And she was wondrous fair. And she would haye an old man Was oyergrown with hair;

And ever she cry'd, O turn, O turn thee unto me, Thou hast the thing I haye not, A little aboye the knee.

He bought her a Gown of green.

Became her wondrous well: And she bought him a long sword

To hang down by his heel; And ever she cry'd, etc

He bought her a Pair of sheers

To hang by her side: And she bought him a winding-sheet

Against the day he died; And ever she cry'd, etc

He b6ught her a Gown, a Gown, Bmbroidered all with gold:

And she gaye him a night-cap

To keep him from the cold.

And ever she cry'd, etc

He bought her a Gown, a Gown, Embroidered all with red:

And she gaye him a pair of horns To wear iqKxn his head;

[143]

And ever she oyd, (O) tarn, O turn thee unto me, Thou hast the thing I have not A little above the knee.

THE CHARACTER OF A MISTRESS (Anonymous. From NLwry Drollery. 1691)

M

Y Mistris is a shuttle-cock; Composed of Cork and f eather. Bach Battledore sets on her dock, And bumps her on the leather: But cast her off which way you Will, She will recoil to another still. Fa, la, la, la, la, la.

My Mistris is a Tennis ball.

Composed of Cotton fine; She is often struck against the wall.

And banded under-line. But if you will her mind fulfill. You must pop her in the hazard still, Fa, la, la.

My Mistris is a Nightingale

So sweetly she can sing, She is as fair as Philomel,

The daughter of a King; And in the darksome nights so tliick She loves to lean against a p. . . ., Fa, la, la.

My Mistris is a Ship of war.

With shot discharged at her The Pope hath inferred many a scar

Even both by wind and water; But as she grapples, at the last, She drowns the man, pulls down his mast, Fa, la, la.

My Mistris is a Virginal,

And little cost will string her: She's often reared against the wall

For every man to finger. But to say truth, if you will her please You must run division on her keys, Fa, la, la.

My Mistris is a Conny fine. She's of the softest skin,

[M3]

And if you please to open her.

The best part lies within. And in her Conny-burrow may Two Tumblers and a Ferrit play, Fa, la, la.

My Mistris is the Moon so bright:

I wish that I could win her; She never walks but in the night,

And bears a man within her. Which on his back bears pricks and thorns; And once a month she brings him horns, Fa, la, la.

My Mistris is a Tinder-b6x,

Would I had such a one; Her Steel endureth many a knock

Both by the flint and stone. And if you stir the Tinder much. The match will fire at every touch. Fa, la, la.

My Mistris is a Puritan,

She will not swear an oath. But for to lie with any man.

She is not very loath; But pure to pure, and there's no sin,. There's nothing lost that enters in. Fa, la, la.

But why should I my Mistris call,

A shuttle-cock or bawble, A ship of war or Tennis-ball,

Which things be variable? But to commend, I'U say no more. My Mistris is an arrant whore. Fa, la, la, la, la, la.

THE WAY TO WOO A ZEALOUS LADY

(Anonymous* From Metry DroUery. 1691)

T CAME unto a Puritan to woo, '- And roughly did salute her with a kiss; She shoved me from her when I came unto; Brother, by yea and nay I like not this: And as I her with amorous talk saluted. My Articles with scripture she confuted.

She told me that I was too much profane. And not devout neither in speech nor gesture:

[144]

And I could not one word answer again, Nor had not so much grace to call her Sister; For ever something did offend here there, Either my broad beard, hat, or my long hair.

My Band was broad, my 'Parrel was not plain. My Points and Girdle made the greatest show; My Sword was odious, and my Belt was vain. My Spanish shoes was cut too broad at toe; My Stockings light, my Garters tied too long. My Gloves perfumed, and had a scent too strong.

I left my pure Mistris for a space.

And to a snip snap Barber straight went I;

I cut my hair, and did my corps uncase

Of 'Parrels pride that did offend the eye;

My high crowned Hat, my little beard also.

My pecked Band, my Shoes were sharp at toe.

Gone was my Sword, my Belt was laid aside. And I transformed both in looks and speech; My 'Parrd plain, my Cloak was void of pride. My little Skirts, my metamorphosed breech. My Stockings black, my Garters were tied shorter. My Gloves no scent; thus march'd I to her Porter.

The Porter spied me, and did lead me in. Where his sweet Mistris reading was a chapter: Peace to tliis house, and all that are therein. Which holy words with admiration wrapt her; And ever, as I came her something nigh. She, being divine, turned up the white of th' eye.

Quoth I, dear sister, and that liked her well;

I kist her, and did Pass to some delight.

She, blusUng, said, that long-tail'd men would tell;

Quoth I, 111 be as silent as the night;

And lest the wicked now should have a sight

Of what we do, faith, Fll put out the light

O do not swear, quoth she, but put it out. Because that I would have you save your oath. In truth, you shall but kiss me without doubt; In troth, quoth I, here we will rest us both; Swear you, quoth she, in troth? Had you not sworn Fd not have done't, but took it in foul scom« 

[145]

A SONG (Anonymoiis. Prom Merry Droliery. 1691)

pox take yoa Mistris 111 be gcme» ^ I have Mends to wait iq>QVi; Think 70a Fll my self confine. To your homoara (Lady mine:) No, your louring seems to say: ^Tis a rainy drinking day. To the Tayem FU away.

There haye I a Mistris got. Cloistered in a Pottle pot: Brisk and q;>rightly as thine eye. When thy richest glances Qy, Plomp AND bounding, liye^, fair, Bucksome, soft, and debonair: And she's called Sack, my DEAR.

Sack's my better Mistris far. Sack's my only beauty-star; Whose rich beuns, and glorious rays. Twinkle in each red rose and face: Should I an her virtues shew. Thou thyself would love-sick prove, AND she'd prove thy Mistris TOO.

She with no dart-scorn will blast me; But upon thy bed can cast me; Yet ne'er blush herself too red. Nor fear of loss of Maiden-head: And she can (the truth to say) Si^ts into me convey, MORE than thou canst take AWAY.

Getting kisses here's no toil. Here's no Handkerchief to spoil; Yet I better Nectar sip, Than dwells iq>on thy lip: And though mute and still she be, Quicker wit she brings to me. Than e'er I could find in THEE.

If I go, ne'er think to see Any more a fool of me; 111 no liberty iq> give. Nor a Maudlin-like love live,

[146]

No, there's nought ihall win me to^t, 'Tie not an thy amiles can do't. Nor thy Maiden-head to BOOT.

Yet if thonlt hut take the pain •

To be good but once again;

If one smile then call me back;

THOU Shalt be that Lady Sack:

Faith but try, and thon shalt see

What a loving Soul 111 be^

WHBN I am drunk with nought but thee.

THE ANSWER

T PRAY thee, Drunkard, get thee gone,

-"- Thy Mistris Sack doth smell too strong:

Think you I intend to wed,

A sloven to be-piss my bed?

No, 3rour staining me's to say,

You have been drinking all this iaj.

Go, be gone, away, away.

Where you have your Mistris Sack; Which hath already spofled your back. And methinks should be too hot, To be cloistered in a pot Though you say she is so fair. So lovely, and so debonair. She is but of a yellow hair.

Sack's a whore which bums like fire,

Sack consumes and is a dryer;

And her ways do only tend

To bring men unto their end:

Should I all her vices tell.

Her rovings and her swearings fell.

Thou wouldst damn her into HelL

Sack which no dart-scorns will blast thee,

But upon thy bed still cast thee:

And by that impudence doth shew,

That no virtue she doth know:

For she will, the truth to say.

Thy body in an hour decay.

More thim I can in a day.

Though for kisses there's no tofl. Yet your body she doth spdl:

[147]

Sipping Nectar whilst you sit.

She doth quite besot your wit:

Though she is mute, shell make yon loud:

Brawl and fight in every crowd*

When srour reason she doth cloud.

Nor do 3rou ever look to see Any more a smile from me, m yield no liberty, nor sign. Which I truly may call mine. No, no sleight shall win me to't, Tis not all thy parts can do't, Thy Person, nor thy Land to boot

Yet if thou wilt take the pain.

To be sober once again.

And but make much of thy back,

I will be instead of Sack.

Faith but try, and thou shalt see,

¥niat a loving soul Til be:

When thou art drunk with nought but me.

ADVICE TO BACHELORS (Anonymous. From Merry Drollery. 1691)

HB that intends to take a Wife, 111 tell him what a kind of life He must be sure to lead; If she's a young and tender heart, Not documented in Love's Art, Much teaching she will need.

But where there is no path, one may Be tired before he finds the way,

Nay, when he's at his treasure. The gap perhaps will prove so straight, That he for entrance long may wait.

And make a toil of s pleasure.

Or if one old, and past her doing. He will the Chamber-maid be wooing.

To biqr her ware the cheaper. But if her choose one most formose. Ripe for't, she'll prove libidinous^

Argus himself shan't ke^ her.

[148]

For when those things are neatly drest, Theyll entertain each wanton guest.

Nor for their honour care. If any give their pride a fall, Th' have learned a trick to bear withal.

So you their charges bear.

So if you chance to play your game With a dull, fat, gross heavy Dame,

Your riches to encrease, Alas! she will but jeer you for't; Bid you to find out better sport.

Lie with a pot of grease.

If meager — — be thy delight, SheH conquer in venerial fight.

And waste thee to the bones: Such kind of girls, like to your Mill, The more you give, the more crave they will.

Or else they'U grind the stones.

If Uack, 'tis odds she's dev'lish proud. If short, Xantippe like, too loud.

If long, shell lasy be. Foolish (the Proverb saith) if faur. If wise and comely, danger's there.

Lest she do cuckold thee.

If she bring store of money, such Are like to domineer too much.

Prove M istris, no good vdfe. And when they cannot ke^ you under. They'll fiU the house with scolding thunder

What worse than such a life;

But if her Dowry only be Beauty, farewell felicity,

Tliy fortunes cast away. Thou must be sure to satisfy her In belly, and in back-desire.

To labour night and day.

And rather than her pride give o'er. She'll turn perhaps an honoured whore.

And thou'lt Acteo&d be. Whilst like Acteon thou mayst weep. To think thou forced art to keep

Such as devour thee.

If bdnc noble thou dost wed A icrvile Creetore, basely bred.

Thy Family it defaces; If being mean* one nobly bom. Shell swear t'ezalt a CourtUke horn.

Thy low descent it graces.

If one tongue be too much for any. Then he who takes a ¥df e with many.

Knows not what may betide him; She whom he did for learning honour. To scold by book will take upon her.

Rhetorically chide him.

If both her Parents living are.

To please them 3fou must take great care.

Or spoil your future fortune. But if departed they are this life, You must be parent to your wife.

And father all, be certain.

If braydy drest, fair faced and witty. Shell oft be gadding to the City,

Nor may you say her nay. Shell tell you (if you her deny) Since women have Terms, she knows not why.

But they still ke^ them may.

If you make choice of Country ware. Of being Cuckold there's less fear.

But stupid honesty May teach her how to sleep all night; And take a great deal more delight

To milk the Cows than thee.

Concoction makes their Uood agree Too near, where*s consanguinity;

Then let no kin be chosen: He loseth one part of his treasure, Who thus coniineth all his pleasure

To th' arms of his first Cousen.

Hell never have her at command. Who takes a wife at second hand;

Then choose no widowed mother: The first cut, of that bit jrou love. If others had, why may n't you prove

But taster to another?

[ISO]

Betides, If the bring children many, Tls like by thee she'll not have any,

Bnt prove a barren Doe; Or if by them, she ne'er had one, By thee 'tis likely shell have none.

Whilst thou for weak back go.

For there where other Gard'ners haye been sowing Their seed, but ne'er could find it growing.

You must expect so too; And where the Terra incognita 8' o'erplow'd, you must it fallow lay.

And still for weak back ga

Then trust not to a maiden face, Nor confidence in widows place.

Those weaker yesseb may Spring-leak, or split against a rock; And when your Fame's wrapt in a smock,

'TIS easily cast away.

Yet be she fair, foul, short, or tall. You for a time may love them all.

Can them your soul, your life^ And one by one them undermine. As Courtizan, or Concubine,

But neyer as married wife. He who considers this, may end the strife. Confess no trouble like unto a Wife.

THE SPARROW AND HIS MATE (By Sir John Vanbragh.' From Aesop. 1697)

IN the sprightly month of May, When males and females sport and play. And kiss and toy away the day; An eager sparrow, and his mate. Chirping on a tree were sate Full of love— and full of prate. They talked of nothing but their fires, Of raging heats, and strong desires, Of eternal constancy; How true and faithful they would be; Of this and that and endless Joys,

[I5X]

And a thousand more inch tojm. The only thing they apprehended. Was that their lives would be so short. They could not finish half their sport Before their days were ended. But as from bough to bough they rove,

They chanced at last,

In furious haste, On a twig with birdlime spread, (Want of a more downy bed) To act a scene of love. Fatal it proved to both their fires For though at length they broke away. And balked the schoolboy of his prey, Which made him weep the livelong day, The bridegroom, in the hasty strip. Was stuck so fast to his dear wife. That though he used his utmost art. He quickly found it was in vain. To put himself to further pain. They never more must part. A gloomy shade o'ercast his brow; He found himself — ^I know not how: He looked— «s husbands often da Where'er he moved, he felt her still. She kissed him oft against his will: Abroad, at home, at bed and board. With favours she o'erwhelmed her lord Oft he turned his head away. And seldom had a word to say. Which absolutely spofled her play. For she was better stored. Howe'er, at length her stock was spent, (For female fires sometimes may be Subject to mortality;) So back to back they sit and suddenly repent. But the mute scene was quickly ended; The lady, for her share, pretended The want of love lay at his door; For her part, she had still in store Enough for him, and twenty more. Which could not be contended. He answered her in homely words, (For Sparrows are but ill-bred birds,) That he already had enjoyed So much, that truly he was cloyed. Which so provoked her spleen

That after some good hearty prayers^ A jostle, and some spiteful tears. They fell together by the ears, And ne'er were f omid again.

A SATIRE AGAINST LOVE (By Alexander Ratcliff* London. 1705)

npHOU doting fond besotted amorous fool; '- Shame to thy sex, return again to school, A whining lover is a sorry fooL Learn a new lesson, vex thjrself no more Kick that blind bastard Cupid out of door, His mother Venus was a common whore.

What is't that makes thy sense and reason stray?

And fondly bears thy captive soul away?

Is it her beauty makes thy heart her prey?

The fairest face that ever nature made,

A little sickness soon will make it fade.

Tis naught but worms and dust in masquerade.

Or do you on your mistress' virtue dote? Tell me, I should be very glad to know it. What virtue dwells beneath a petticoat? Women are strange dissemblers: They'll appear So sweetly innocent and good, you'd swear They were all angels, when they devils are.

Doth she a magazine of wealth command? Fetched from the bowels of the sea and land. The Oriental pearl, and Indian sand? Those glittering toys indeed may please the eyes Of some base nuser; but the brave and wise Place their content beyond such fooleries.

Fill me a bowl with some rich Grecian wine.

That sprightly nectar shall my wit refine.

And make me bravely act the libertine.

In Bacchanalian feasts I'll sorrows drown;

And when my blood grows warm 111 range the town.

And seize on aU I meet, fair, black, or brown.

Women by nature were or at first designed. To be enjoyed by man, and thou shalt find,

[153]

If this proyes crossy the nesct will be more kind. Their inclination's strong what e'er they say» And hate who court the dull Platonic way; That master pleases best, who's brisk and gay.

No longer then in whining language court- But if your mistress does deny yon sport Ravish her first then shell thank you for 't PerluqiNi shell faintly strive and cry» 'you men Are wondrous rude— I vow you shant»'— and then Swear that— you never shall come there agdn.

The deed once done; shell feign herself perplezt 'Fie I you're wondrous naught— >Indeed Fm vest. But prithee dear, when shall I see thee next?* With cunning arts, thus they inveagle man But they shall never more my soul triqypan Catch me again you gsrpsies if you can. To spend our precious time twixt hope and fear. And let a paltry woman domineer, Tis better be a vassal in Algier.

TO CELIA (By The Duke of Buckingham. Mlac. WorkM. 1739)

GIVE Celia but to me alone Ten thousand kisses all in one; LfSt me not such from thee receive As daughters to their fathers give. Or as the sister to her brother. Or the young fondling to her mother. But such as by the panting bride.

Now Ijring at her husband's side; (the fort but once or twice assayed Not fully gained, still half a maid) Are in sweet short breathed murmurs paid. I must to lengthen on the pleasure Dwell on thy lips, and kiss by leisure; Who am not one that loves to kiss Goddesses, breathless images. Nor can I the most beautious saint. The loveliest face, salute in paint. Warm flesh and blood I'd rather choose

[154]

A tender creature full of juice. Darting her nimble tongue between My moistened Iqni; there meeting mine^ Sometimes I'd catch the pliant toy. Suck it a while with eager joy; Then let it go» and gently nip. Instead of it the nether lip.

Thus Celia, would we sport away

Like cooing doves, the happy day;

And never sated with delight.

Begin the same again at night.

Compared with kisses, such as these.

Nectar, itself, insipid is:

Give me but these alone, and leave

To stroke thy bubbles as they heave:

Let my hand thence, but quickly rove

Down to the pleasing seat of love,

Whither, do what we can, i' the end

Our curiosity will tend

Then let those mistresses above

Venus and Hebe (that of love,

And this of youth, the deity)

Fall to whose share they will for me.

See envy none, nor e'er repine.

Since, judge who will, the odds are mine.

TO ARMIDA (By Thomas Brown. From WorkM. 1730)

I^ASY to love, much easier to change,

• ^ Undrcumscribed my wanton jmssions range.

With sure success each fair enchanter sets,

TcmIs for my heart, and spreads her blooming nets;

The faithless wanton soon a freedom gains.

And from another feels repeated chains.

To every saint I most devoutly fall.

My superstitious love adores them all;

I swear by love, and by the pain he brings.

My soul's inconstant as the wanton's wings;

No lovely maid could ever fix my mind.

Or an n^ heart in love's soft arches bind;

Too partial fate, to frame my soul for JQ3rs,

Which my uncertain temper soon destroys:

[ Z55 ]

Whilst for each fair succesaiyely I bum. My roving heart meets no sincere return. Come then, great God of Love, and take my part, And fix forever my inconstant heart; Why will you see your faithfiid slave abused. The pleasing pain of loving long refused? Why must I make my solemn vows in vain? I, who your empire did so well maintain? I, who so far did love's soft power extend And made the chaste before your altars bend? Hear but this once with a propitious ear. And by yourself, and Venus' eyes, I swear, A thousand offerings each returning day My grateful heart shall most devoutly pray; Hear me. Great God, and grant my last request. Since no terrestrial Maid can charm my breast; Make one on purpose, and from every fair Some beauty snatch, to make the charmer rare; There to begin, whence love himself doth rise. Let her have Sylvia's kind engaging eyes. In which dear circles all incentives move To cause, confirm, and entertain my love. His surest net, their Cupid lajni. And as he wounds, about her eye-ball plays. Sometimes how soft and charming they appear I Sometimes tyrannic, with a look severe. They drive the worthiest lover to despair. Wisdom and sense in vain her victims aid. To break her chains, too strong her eyes persuade. Armida's neck with grateful motion turn. Where purple streams in winding channels run; Next place, Serena's white enchanting breast. On which imperial Jove himself might rest; To melt the touch, those lovely hills arise. And every motion does our sense surprise. But oh! two snowy mounts, so near her hearty Still keep it cold, and quench love's hottest dart; Between those MUs a milky way there leads, Not to the skies, or to the Elysian Meads; But here's a patch to greater pleasure shown. For which the Gods have oft forsook their own. Happy's the man enters this sacred grove. And treads the mazes of ms^terious love. And next, great love, below this charming breast, Lesbia's engaging belly most be placed, A cupola to the most awful shrine

Whence comes your power, which mortals make divine. This is the truest Heliconian spring

[156]

By which inspired bards first learned to sing;

Venus, her charms, Phoebus, his silyer bow,

Jove does his thunder to the poets owe.

The gods themselyes by their assistance live,

Eternal fame their deathless pages give.

If more perfections you expect below.

Her legs and feet must bright Almeria show.

Qodsl how she takes me with a vast surprisel

Oh love I how charming is thy paradise 1

Next, over all, must Phryne's skin be drawn

Ludd and clear as the first orient dawn.

Thro' which most lovely and most faithful screen

The various passions of the soul are seen.

And all the tumults of her virgin breast^

By fear, disdain, or softer love possest^

To Laura's waist, let Lydia's air invite,

A dear temptation to that strait delight;

From her Appeles might his pattern take;

From her alone a brighter Venus make;

Let her, like Chloe, tread an even pace

And print, in every step she takes, a grace;

May she in measure like Clarinda move.

And sing as charming as the saints above.

Let Laura's air in every act appear.

Raising desire, and yet commanding fear.

And next, great god, that she may nothing want^

Of all that I can ask or you can grant;

Let her, oh let her I Like dear Clarissa Idss;

Like her, transport me with surprising bliss.

Help me, ye powers of love, I faint, I die,

The thought screws nature to a pitch too high:

Scarcely my breast my fleeting soul retains

And gusts of pleasure hurry through my veins.

One touch of he ro

More bliss contains than pampered prelates prove

In snatched embraces of forbidden love.

To my last prayer, propitious love, be kind.

And make the fair bewitching in her mind.

Good sense and wit in the same person joined.

Seldom our strictest inquisitions find.

Write two stocks to form the witty she,

Dorinda's sense, and Flavia's repartee.

The wanton god smiled on his humble slave.

As when Adonis he his mother gave;

When strait heaven's gates, by love's supreme command.

Were open set; for what can love withstand?

Soft breezing Zephyrs bring the virgin down,

A gift divine that must my passion crown;

[X57]

I threw myself devoutly at her feet^

Where all perfections, all the graces meet;

But l^ the God commanded to arise,

I saw Armida, to my yast smprise.

So rich in charms, and so divine her air,

The Queen of love was scarce herself so fair;

With eager arms I clasped the lovely maid.

My humble thanks to mighty love I paid.

And as I wanted nothing else, for nothing prayed.

MY THING IS MY OWN (Anonymoos. From Piiia to Purge Meiancboiy. 1707)

I A tender young Maid have been courted by many, 9 Of all sorts and Trades as ever was any: A spruce Haberdasher first spake me fair, But I would have nothing to do with Small ware. My Thing is my own, and I'U keep, it so still. Yet other young Lasses may do what th^ wiU.

A sweet scented Courtier did give me a Kiss, And promis'd me Mountains if I would be his. But 111 not believe him, for it is too true. Some Courtiers do promise much more than th^ da My thing is my own, and 111 keep it so still. Yet other young Lasses may do what th^ .wiU.

A fine Man of Law did come out of the Strand, To plead his own Cause with his Fee in his Hand; He made a brave Motion but that would not do. For I did dismiss him, and Nonsuit him too.

My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still, ' Yet other young Lasses may do what they wilL

ft

Next came a young Fellow, a notable Spark, (With Qreen Bag and Inkhom, a Justices Clark) He pull'd out his Warrant to make all appear. But I sent him away with a Flea hi his ear. My thing is my own, and 111 keep it so still. Yet other young Lasses may do what they wilL

A Master of Music came with an intent. To give me a Lesspn on my Instrumenl^ I thank'd him for nothing, but bid him be gone, For my little Fiddle should not be played on.

[Z58]

My thing is my own, and 111 keq;^ it so still. Yet other young Lasses may do what th^ wilL

An Usurer came with abundance of Cash, But I had no mind to come under his Lash, He proffered me jewels, and great store of Gold, But I would not Mortgage my little Free-hold. My thing is my own, and I'll keep it so. still. Yet other young Lasseit may do what they wilL

A blunt Lieutenant surpriz'd my Placket, And fiercely began to rifle and sack it, I mustered my Spirits up and became bold. And forced my Lieutenant to quit his strong hold. My thing is my own, and 111 keep it so still. Yet other yoimg Lasses may do what they wilL

A Crafty young Bumpkin that was very rich. And used with his Bargains to go thro' stitcl^ Did tender a Sum, but it would not avail. That I should admit him my Tenant in tail My Thing is my own, and 111 keep it so still. Yet other young Lasses may do what th^ wiU.

A fine dapper Taylor, with a Yard in his Hand, Did profer his Service to be at Command, He talked of a slit I had above Knee, But 111 have no Taylors to stitch it for me. My Thing is my own, and I'U keep it so still. Yet other young Lasses may do what th^ wilL

A Gentleman that did talk much of his Grounds, His Horses, his Setting-Dogs, and his Grey-hounds, Put in for a Course, and used all his Art, But he mist of the Sport, for Puss would not start. My Thing is my own, and 111 keep it so still. Yet other young Lasses may do what they wilL

A pretty young Squire new come to the Town, To empty his Pockets, and so to go down. Did profer a kindness, but I would have none, The same that he used to his Mother's Maid Joan. My Thing is my own, and I'll keep it so still. Yet other yoimg Lasses may do what they wilL

Now here I could reckon a hundred and more. Besides all the Gamesters recited before, That made their addresses in hopes of a snap

[159]

But as young ai I was I mderstood Trap. My thing Is my own, and 111 keep it so stilly Until I be Married, say Men what they wilL

A NEW BALLAD UPON A WEDDING

(Anonymotts. From Piiia to Purge Meiancboly* 1707)

THE Sleeping Thames one Mom I crossed. By two contending Charons tost; I Landed and I found. By one of Neptune^s juggling Tricks, Enchanted Thames was turned to Styx, Lambeth the Eljrsian Groimd.

The Dirty Lmkboy of the Day,

To make himself more fresh and gay.

Had spent five Hours, and more; Scarce had he Combed and Curled his Hair, When out there comes a brighter Fair,

Eclipsed him o'er, and o'er.

The dazzled Boy would have retired. But durst not, because he was hired.

To light the Purblind Skies; But aU on Earth, wiU Swear and say. They saw no other Sun that Day,

Nor Heav'n, but in her Eyes.

Her starry Eyes, both warm and shine. And her dark Brows, do them enshrine.

Like Love's Triumphal Arch; Their Firmament is Red and White, Whilst the other Heaven is but bedight.

With Indigo and Starch.

Her Face a Civil War had bred. Betwixt the White Rose and the Red,

Then Troops of Blushes came; And charged the White with might and main. But stoutly were repulsed again.

Retreating back with shame.

Long was the War, and sharp the Fight, It lasted dubious until Night,

[160]

- _ — c

Which would to the other yield; At last the Annies both stood stilly And left the Bridegroom at his Will»

The Pillage of the Field.

But, oh, such Spoils! which to compare, A Throne is but a rotten Chair,

And Scepters are but sticks; The Crown itself, 'twere but a Bonnet, If her Possession lay upon it,

What Prince would not here fix.

Heayen's Master-piece, Divinest frame. That e'er was spoke of yet by Fame,

Rich Nature's utmost Stage; The Harvest of all former years. The pasf s Disgrace, the future's fears.

And glory of this Age.

Thus to the Parson's Shop they trade. And a slight Bargain there is made.

To make Him her Supreme; The Angels perched about her Light, And Saints themselves had Appetite,

But I will not Blaspheme.

The Parson did his Conscience ask. If he were fit for such a Task,

And could perform his Duty; Then straight the Man put on the Ring, The Emblem of another thing,

When strength is joined to Beauty.

A modest cloud her Face invades. And wraps it up in Sarsnet Shades,

While thus th^ mingle Hands; And then she was obliged to say. Those Bug-bear Words, Love and Obey,

But meant her own Commands.

The envious Maids looked round about. To see what One would take them out.

To terminate their Pains; For tho' they Covet, and are Cross, Yet still th^ value more one Loss,

Than many Thousand Gains.

Knights of the Garter, two were called. Knights of the Shoe-string, two installed.

And all were bound by Oath; No further than the Knee to paM» But ohi the Squire of the Body was

A better place than both.

A tedious Feast pr o tracts the time, For eating now, was but a Crime,

And all that interposed; For like two Duellists they stood. Panting for one another's Blood,

And longing till they dosed.

Then came the Jovial Music in. And many a merry Violin,

That Life and Soul of Legs; Tfa' impatient Bridegroom would not stay, Good Sir, cry they, what Man can play.

Till he's wound up his pegs.

But then he Dances till he reels,

For Love and Joy had winged his Heels,

And puts the Hours to flight; He leapt and skipt, and seemed to say. Come Boys, VU drive away the Day,

And shake away the Night

The lovely Bride, with Murdering Arts, Walks round, and Brandishes her Darts,

To give the deeper Wound; Her Beauteous Fabric, with such grace. Ensnares a Heart, at every pace.

And Kills at each rebound.

She glides as if there were no Ground, And slily draws her Nets around.

Her Lime-twigs are her Kisses; Then makes a Curtsie with a Glance, And strikes each Lover in a Trance,

That Arrow never misses.

Thus have I oft a Hobby seen. Daring of Larks over a Green,

His fierce occasion tarry; Dances about them as they fly. And gives them sport before they Die,

Then stoops and Kills the Quarry.

[x6a]

Her Sweat, like Hon^-drops did fall. And Stings of Beauty pierced us all»

Her shape was so exact; Of Wax she seemed framed alive. But had her Gown too been a Hiye,

How Bees had thither flocked.

Thus envious Time prolonged the Day, And stretched the Prologue to the Play,

Long stopped the sluggish Watch; At last a Voice came from above. Which called the Bridegroom and his Love,

To consummate the Match.

But (as if Heav'n would it retard) A banquet comes, like the Night-Guard,

Which stayed them half the Night; The Bridegroom then with's Men retired. The Train was lajring to be fired,

He went his Match to light

When he returned, his Hopes was crowned. An Angel in the Bed he found.

So glorious was her Face; Amazed he stopt— but then, quoth He, Tho' 'tis an Angel, 'tis a She,

And leaped into his Place.

Thus lay the Man with Heav'n in's Arms, Blessed with a Thousand pleasing Charms,

In Raptures of Delight; Reaping at once, and Sowing Joys, For Beautjr's Manna never cloys.

Nor fiUs the Appetite.

But what was done, sure was no more, Than that which had been done before.

When she her self was Made; Something was lost, which none found out. And He that had it could not sheVt,

Sure 'tis a juggling Trade.

[Z63]

A BALLAD OP ALL THE TRADES

(Anonymoas. From PIHa to Purge Mdancboly. 1707)

/^ H the Miller, the dusty, musty Miller, ^^ The Miller, that beareth on his Back; He never goes to Measure Meal, But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid holds ope the sack.

O the Baker, the bonny, bonny Baker,

The Baker that is so full of Sin; He never heats his Oven hot.

But he thrusts, but he thrusts, but he thrusts his Maiden in.

O the Brewer, the lusty, lusty Brewer, The Brewer that Brews Ale and Beer;

He never heats his Liquor hot. But he takes, but he takes, but he takes his Maid by the Geer.

O the Butcher, the bloody, bloody Butcher, The Butcher that sells both Beef and Bone;

He never grinds his Slaughtering Knife, But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid must turn his Stone.

O the Weaver, the wicked, wicked Weaver,

That foUoweth a weary Trade; He never shoots his Shuttle right.

But he shoots, but he shoots, but he shoots first at his Maid.

O the Barber, the neat and nimble Barber,

Whose Trade is ne'er the worse; He never goes to Wash and Shave,

But he trims, but he trims, but he trims his Maiden first

O the Taylor, the fine and frisking Taylor, The Taylor that gives so good regard;

He never goes to measure Lace, But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid holds out his Yard.

O the Blacksmith, the lusty, lusty Blacksmith, The best of all good Fellows;

[164]

"^^r-^iwwp— »^^^p-^— '^■^^^■— ^B^^w^^^i^

He never heats his Iron hot. But his Maid, bat his Maid, but his Maid must blow the Bellows.

O the Tanner, the Merry, Merry Tanner, The Tanner that draws good Hides into Leather;

He never strips himself to work, But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid and he's together.

O the Tinker, the sturdy, sturdy Tinker, The Tinker that deals all m Mettle;

He never dencheth home a Nail, But his Trull, but his Trull, but his Trull holds up the Kettle.

OP KING EDWARD AND JANE SHORE (Anonymous. From Plila to Purge Meiancboly. 1707)

TluTHY should we boast of Lais and her Knights, ^^ Knowing such Champions intrapt with Whorish

Lights; Or why should we speak of Thais Curled Locks, Or Rhodppe that gave so many Men the Pox. Read old Stories, and there you shall find, How Jane Shore, Jane Shore she pleased King

Edward's mind. Jane Shore she was for fair England, Queen Fredricka was for France,

Honi soit qui mal y pense.

To speak of the Amazons it were too long to tell. And likewise of the Thracian Girls, how far th^

did excel; Those with Sc3rthian Lads, engag'd in several Fights, And in the brave Venetian Wars, did foil adventurous

Knights: Messaline and Julia were Vessels wond'rous brittle. But Jane Shore, Jane Shore took down King Edward's

Mettle.

Jane Shore she was, etc.

of Thormydon, she was a doughty Wight; She Conquered Pallas King in the Exercise of Night;

[165]

Hemilet slew the Dragon whose Teeth were all of Brasa, Yet he himself became a Slave mito the Lydian Lass: The Theban Semd lay with Jove, not dreading all his Thunder, But Jane Shore overcame King Edward, altho' he had her under.

Jane Shore she was, etc

Helen of Greece she came of Spartan Blood, Agricola and Cressida they were brave Whores and good; Queen Clytemnestra bold, slew old Artiiur's mighty Son, And fair Harcyon pulled down the Strength of Telamon: Those were the Ladies that caused the Trojan Sack, But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she spoiled King Edward's Back. Jane Shore she was, etc

For this the Ancient Fathers did great Venus defy. Because with her own Father Jove she feared not to He; Hence Cupid cfune, who afterwards revenged his loving

Mother, And made kind Biblis do the like with Comus her own

Brother; And afterwards the Goddess kept Adonis for Reserve, But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she stretched King Edward's

nttvc

Jane Shore she was, etc.

The Colchin Dame Maedea her Father did betray. And taught her Lover Jason how the Vigilant Bull to slay; And after, thence conveyed her Father's golden Fleece, She with her Lover sailed away in Argus Ship to Greece: But finding Jason False, she burnt his Wife and Court, But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she shewed King Edward sport Jane Shore she was, etc

Romiz of Saxony the Welsh State overthrew, Igraejm of Cornwall, Pendragon did subdue; Queen Guinevere with Arthur fought singly hand to hand In Bed, tho' afterwards she made Horns on his Head to stand: And to Sir Mordred, Pictish Prince a Paramour became. But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she made King Edward tame Jane Shore she was, etc

Marosia of Italy, see how she stoutly copes. With Jesuits, Priests and Cardinals, and triple Crowned Popes; And with King Henry, Rosamond spent many a daUjnng Hour, Till lastly she was Poisoned in Woodstock fatal Bower: And Joan of Arc play'd in the Dark with the Knights of Languedoc,

[x66]

But Jane Shore, met King Edward, and gave him Knock for Knock,

Jane Shore she was, etc.

le we know played feats with the Cretan Bull, And Proserpine, tho' so Divine, became Mack Plato's Trull: The Spanish Bawd her Strumpets taught to lay their Legs

astride. But these and all the Curtezans Jane Shore did them deride: Pope Joan was right, adtho' she did the Papal Sceptre Wield, But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she made King Edward srield. Jane Shore she was, etc

Agathodea and Aenathe did govern Egypt's King; The witty Wench of Andover, she was a pretty thing, She freely took her Lady's place, and with great Edgar dallied. And with main force she foiled him quite, altho' he often

rallied: For which brave Act, he that her racked, gave her his Lady's

Land, But Jane Shore, Jane Shore King Edward did command. Jane Shore she was, etc.

Of Phryne and Lanva Historians have related.

How their Illustrious Beauties, two Generals Captivated:

And they that in the Days of Yore killed Men and Sacked

their Cities, In Honour of thar Mistresses composed Amorous Ditties: Let Flora gay with Romans play, and be a Goddess called. But Jane Shore, Jane Shore, Khig Edward she enthralled. Jane Shore she was, etc.

The Jolly Tanner's Daughter Harlot of Normandy,

She only had the happiness to please Duke Robert's Eye;

And Roxolana tho' a Slave, and bom a Grecian,

Could with a Nod, command and rule Grand Seignior Solyman:

And Naples Joan would make them Groan that ardently did

love her, But Jane Shore, Jane Shore King Edward he did Shove her. Jane Shore she was, etc.

Aspasia doth of the Persian Brothers boast,

Though Cynthia joy in the Lampathean Boy, Jane Shore

shall rule the roast; Cleopatra, loved Mark Antony, and Brownal she did feats, But compared to our Virago, they were but merely cheats. Brave Carpet Knights in Cupid's Fights, their milkwhite

Rapiers drew,

[X67]

But Jane Shore, Jane Shore King Edward did anbdiie, Jane Shore she waa, etc.

Hamlef 8 incestuous Mother was Gertrude, Denmark's Queen, And Circe that enchanting Witch, the like was scarcely seen; Warlike Penthesile was an Amazonian Whore, To Hector and young Troylus, both which did her adore, But brave King Edward, who before had gain'd Nine Vic- tories, Was like a Bond-Slave, lettered with Jane Shore's all con- quering Thighs:

Jane Shore she was, etc.

THE SLOW MEN OF LONDON (Anonymous. From Plila to Purge Meiaocbaly. 1709)

npHERE dwelt a Widow in this Town, '^ That was both Fair and Lovely; Her Face was comely neat and brown.

To Pleasure she would move thee: Her lovely Tresses shined like Gold,

Most neat is her Behaviour; For truth it has of late been told.

There's many strove to have her. There were three Young Men of this Town;

Slow Men of London; And they'd go Woo the Widow Brown,

Because they would be undone.

The one a Taylor was by Trade,

An excellent Occupation; But Widows' Love doth waste and fade,

I find by observation: The second was a Farrier bold,

A Man of excellent Metal; His Love to her was never cold.

So firm his Thoughts did settle. There were, etc

The third a Weaver was that came,

A Suitor to this Widow; Her Beauty did his Heart inflame.

Her Thoughts deceit doth shadow, Widows can dissemble stiU,

When Young Men come a Wooing;

[x68]

Yet they were guided by her Will,

That proved to their undoing. There were three, etc.

Widow had a dainty Tongue,

And Words as sweet as Honey; Which made her Suitors to her throng,

Till th^ had spent their Money: The Taylor spent an Hundred Pound,

That he took up on Credit; But now her Knavery he hath found.

Repents that are he did it There were three, etc

Threescore Pounds the Farrier had.

Left him hy his Father; To spend this Mon^ he was 'mad.

His Dad so long did gather: This Widow often did protest.

She loved him best of any; Thus would she swear, when she did least.

To make them spend their Money. There were three, etc

The Weaver spent his daily gains.

That he got by his Labour; Some thirty Pounds he spent in vain.

He borrowed of his Neighbour: She must have Sack and Muscadine,

And Claret brewed with Sugar: Bach Day they feed her chops with Wine,

For which th^ all might hug her. There were three, etc.

THE SECOND PART

She went Apparelled neat and fine,

People well might wonder; To see how she in Gold did shine.

Her fame abroad did thunder: A watered Camlet Gown she had,

A Scarlet Coat bdaced With Gold, which made her Suitors glad.

To see how she was graced. There were three, etc

The Taylor was the neatest Lad, Her Cloaths were oft Perfumed;

[X69]

• l.

Kind Entertaisment still he had*

Till he his 'state consumed: The Farrier likewise spent his 'state.

The Weaver often kissed her: But when that they in 'state were Poor»

They sought but still they missed her. There were three, etc

The Farrier and the Weaver too.

Were fain to fly the City: The Widow did them quite undo,

In faith more was the pity: She of her Suitors being rid,

A Welchman came unto her: By Night and Day his suit he plied.

Most roughly he did Woo her; For wooing tricks he quite put down.

The Slow-men of London: He over-reached the Widow Brown,

That had so many undone.

He swore he was a Gentleman,

Well landed m the Country: And lived in Reputation there.

His Name Sir Rowland Humphry. The Widow did believe him then.

And Love unto him granted; Thus he her Favour did obtain,

Welchmen will not be daunted. By cunning tricks he quite put down.

The Slow-men of London: That came to Woo this Widow Brown,

Because they would be undone.

The Welchman plied her Night and Day,

Till to his Bow he brought her; And bore away the Widow quite,

From all that ever sought her: She thought to be a Lady gay,

But she was sore deceived: Thus the Welchman did put down.

The Slow-men of London; For they would Woo the Widow Brown,

Because they would be undone.

Thus she was fitted in her kind. For all her former Knavery; The Welchman did deceive her Mind,

[x7o]

It had been better she had ta'en.

The Weaver, Smith, or Taylor; For whto she sought for State and Pomp»

The Wdchman quite did fail her: Then learn you Young Men of this Town,

You Slow-men of London: Which way to take the Widow Brown,

For least you all be undone.

THE DISAPPOINTMENT (By Tom Durfey. From Songs Complete. 1719)

THE Clock had struck, faith I cannot tell what. But Morning was come as Grey as a Cat; Cocks and Hens from their Roosts did fty^ Grunting Hogs too had left their aty;

When in a Vale,

Carrying a Pail, Sissly her new Lover met, Dapper Harry;

First they Ki8se(^

Then shook Fist, Then talked as Fools do that just were to Marry.

Zooks cried Hal, I can't but think. Now we are come to Wedlock brink; How pure a stock 'twill be how fine, When you put your good mark to mine;

Siss at that.

Growing hot. Bussed him as if she'd have burnt him to Tinder;

Thus they Woo,

But see how. Damned Fate contrived now the Bargain to hinder.

Sissly had got a Cold I suppose. And 'twixt her Fingers was blowing her Nose; Harry, that Linen too wanted I doubt, Lent her his Glove, to serve for a Clout;

Scraping low.

Manners to show. And tell her how much he was her adorer:

Pray mark the Joke,

Leather thong broke. And Breeches fell down to his Ankles before her.

[X7X]

Sissly who saw him thus diitrest, PuUs of her Garter of woolen List; And with a sly and leering look. Gave it to mend up what was broke;

Fumbling he.

Could not see. What he discovered, tho* e'er he had tied all:

For just before.

Shirt was tore. And as the Devil would have't she had spied alL

She gave him then so cold a Look, Discontent it plainly spoke; And running from him near a Mfle, He overtook her at a stOe;

Too much hast.

Milk down cast. And tppsy turvy she fell on her Pole with*t:

He seeing that.

Runs with*s Hat, But could not Cover her C»«- for his soul with't

Have you not seen at Noon of Day, The Sun his glorious Face display; So Sissly shone with Beauty's Rasrs, Reflecting from her Postern grace;

TiU at Ust

Struggling past. Wide sprawling Legs were again set in order:

But poor Hal,

Since her fall. Stood just like one was found guilty of Murder.

The God of Love, or else old Nick, Sure had designed this Devlish trick. To make the Bridegroom and the Bride; With themselves dissatisfied;

She grown coy,

CaUed him boy. He getting from her cried Zoons you're a rouser;

Fob, she cried.

By things spied. She had as lief a mere Baby should espouse her.

[x7a]

mi

THE PLAY-HOUSE SAINT

(By Tom Darfey. From Sooga Compute. 1719)

'^'EAR {amons Covent-Garden -^^ A Dome there stands on high;

With a fa, la, la, la, etc Where Kings are represented. And Queens in Metre die; With a fa, la, la, la, etc. The Beans and Men of Business

Diversions hither bring. To hear the wanton Doxies prate. And see 'em dance and sing; With a fa, la, la, la, etc.

Here PhiUis is a Darling, As she her self gives out^ For a fa, la, la, la. As tight a Lass as ever Did use a Double Clout, On her fa, la, la, la, etc She's brisk and gay, and cunning.

And wants a Wedlock Yoke, Her Mother was before her As good as ever stroke For a fa, la, la, la, etc.

Young Suitors she had many. From 'Squire, up to Lord, For her fa, la, la, la, etc. And daily she refused 'em. For Virtue was the Word; With her fa, la, la, la, etc* A Saint she would be thought.

And dissembled all she cocdd. But joUy Rakes all knew she was Of Play-house Flesh and Blood, And her fa, la, la, la, etc

Her Mother when encouraged With warm Geneva Dose, And a fa, la, la, la, etc Still cried, take care dear Philly, To keep thy Hamiches close. And this fa, la, la, la, etc This made her stand out stoutly,

[173]

Opponng all that come, Thougfa twenty Denu-Cannon Still were mounted at her Bum, And her fa, la, la, la, etc.

The Knight and Country Squire Were shot with her diadain. And her fa, la, la, la, etc. The Lawyer waa outwitted. The hardy Soldier alain. By her fa, la, la, la, etc The bluff Taipolian Sailor

In vam cried hard a Port, She bttffled Shirks at Sea, As the Country, Town, and Court; With a fa, k, la, la, etc

The God of Love grown angry.

That Phillia seemed so shy, Of her fa, la, la, la, etc Resohred her Pride to humUe,

And rout her pish and fie; He sent a splasrfoot Taylor,

Who knew well how to stitch. And in a little time had found

A button for her Britch, And her fa, la, la, h^ etc

Yet was it not so dose, But 'tis known without all doubt. With a fa, la, k, la, etc A little human Figure Has secretly dropped out. From her fa, la, la, la, etc And tho' some petty Scandal Pursue this Venial Fact, Her Mother she swears Zoons and And her fa, la, la, la, etc Her Honour is intact.

And her fa, la, la, la, etc

Oh PhiUis, then be wise, And give Base to Lovor's racked. For your fa, la, la, la, etc Let Coyness be abated. You know the Pitcher's cracked. By a fa, la, la, la, etc

[174]

For shame, let loutie Taylon No more your Love trapan.

Since nine of *em, you know 'tie said. Can hardly make a man; With a fa, la, la, la, etc

THE COURTIER AND COUNTRY MAID (By Tom Dnrfey. From Songs Complete. 1719)

ALL you that either hear or read. This Ditty is for your Delight: Tis of a pretty Comitry Maid, And how she served a caartty Knight Twas in the flowry Spring, etc.

This courtly Knight, when Fields were green. And Sol did genial Warmth inspire,

A Farmer's Daughter late had seen. Whose Face had set his Heart on Fire, Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Oft to her Father's House he came, And kindly was received there still.

The more he added to his Shame, Since only 'twas to gain his WilL 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

One Evening then amongst the rest He came to visit the good Man,

But needs must know where Clara was, And heard she was a milking, gone. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Then called he for his pampered Steed, With Pistols at his Saddle Bow,

And to the Meadow rode with Speed, Where she was milking of her Cow. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Then off he lights, and ties his Horse, And swore she must his Pain remove.

If not by fair Means, yet l^ Force, Since he was dying for her Love, 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

[175]

The pearly Tears now tricUiiig fall. That from her baahfnl Qyea do flow^

But that he heeded not at all. But docs her straight his Pistob show. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

But first pulled out a fine gay Purse, Well lined within, as she might see^

And cried, before it happens worsen Be wise, and take a Q61den Pee. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Oh keq;> your Ck>ld, replied the Maid, I will not take your golden Pee^

Por well you hope to be repaid. And greater Treasure take from me^ 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

A thundering Oath then out he sent, That she should presently be dead;

Por were his Heart not eased, he meant Point blank to shoot her thro' the Head. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Then making haste to seise her, went And laid the Pire-Arms at her Peet^

Whilst CUra seeing his Intent, Has no recourse to Aid, but Wit 'Twas in the flowry Sprini^ etc

She feigns a Smile, and clinging dose, Cried out, Tve now your Courage tried,

Yliave met no simple Country Mouse, My Dear, you shall be satisfied. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

My Pather takes me for a Saint, Tho' weary of my Maiden Geer,

That I may give you full Contend Pray look. Sir Knight, the Coast be dear. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Look out, and see who comes and goes,

And you shall quickly have your WUl; Por if my Pather nothing knows. Then I shall be a Maiden stilL

'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc [176I

The wideM Knight peeps o'er the Hedges Ae one well pleased with what he heard.

Whilst she does hoth the Pistols snatch. And holdly stood upon her Guard. Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Keep off, keep off. Sir Pool, she cried. And from this Spot of Ground retire,

Por if one Yard to me you stride. By my saved Maiden-head I fire. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc.

My Pather once a Soldier was. And Maids from Ravishers would free^

His Daughter too, in such a Case, Can shoot a Gun as well as he. Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Por Sovereign too, when Poe invades.

Can on Occasion bravely kill. Not shoot, like you, at harmless Maids,

That won't obey your Savage WilL 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Who when the good old Man, whose Cheer Showed welcome, tho^ of little cost;

A Rape thought on his Daughter dear. Most grateful way to pay your Host 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Go home, ye Pop, where Game's not dear, And for half Crown a Dozcy get;

But seek no more a Partridge here, You could not keq;>, tho^ in your Net 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

At tills the Knight looked like a Mome, He sues and vows, but vain was all.

She soon conveyed the Trophies home^ And hung up in her Pather's Hall. 'Twas in the flowry Spring, etc

Itnl

THE BONNY LASS: OR. THE BUTTON*D

SMOCK

(Aaoaymoos. From Pitia to Purge Mttaaetoly. 17a*)

CIT 70a merry Gallaiitg,

^ For I can tell you Newa»

Of a Fashion called the Buttoned Smock,

The which our Wendies use: Because that in the City»

In troth It is great pity; Our Qallants hold it much in scorn.

They should put down the City: But is not this a bouncing Wench,

And is not this a Bonny; In troth she wears a Holluid Smock,

If that she wearedi any.

A bonqy Lass in a Country Town,

Unto her Commendation; She scorns a Holland Smock, , Made after the old Fashion: But she will have it Holland fine.

As fine as may be wore; Hem*d and stitch'd with Naples Silk;

And buttoned down before: But is not, etc

Oar Gallants of the City,

New Fashions do devise; And wear such new found f angle tilings,

Which country Folk despise; As for the Buttoned Smock,

None can hold it in scorn; Nor none can think the Fashion in.

It is so closely worn: Although it may be felt,

Ifs seldom to be seen; It passeth all the Fashions 3ret,

That heretofore hath been. But is not, etc.

Our Wenches of the City,

That gains the Silver rare; Sometimes they wear a Canvas Smock,

Thaf s torn or worn Thread-bare:

Perhapt a Smock of Locknmi,

That dirty, foul, or Uack: Or dae a Smock of Canvas coarae,

Aa hard aa any Sack. Bnt ia not, etc

But she that wears the Holland Smock,

I commend her still that did it; To wear her mider Parts so fine,

The more 'tis for her Credit: For some will have the out-^de fine.

To make the braver show; But she will have her Holland Smock

That's Buttoned down below. But is not, etc.

But if that I should take hi hand.

Her Peraon to commend; I should vouchsafe a long Discourse,

The which I could not end: For her Virtues they are many.

Her person likewise such; But only in particular.

Some part of them FU touch. But ia not, etc

Those Fools that still are dofaig.

With none but coatly Dames; With tediousness of wooing.

Makes cold their hottest flames: Give me the Country Laas,

That trips it o'er the Field; And ope's her Forest at the first.

And is not Coy to yield.

Who when she dons her Vesture,

She makes the Spring her Glass; And with her Comely gesture.

Doth all the Meadows pass: ¥nio knows no other cmming.

But when she feds it come; To gripe your Back, if you be slack,

Aiid tiirust your Weapon home.

'TIS not their boaating humour. Their painted looks nor state;

Nor smells of the Perfumer, The Creature doth create:

[x79]

ShaU make me onto thcee.

Such slavish service owe; Give me the Wench that freely takes,

And freely doth bestow.

Who far from all beguiling,

Doth not her Beauty Mask; But all the while lye smiling.

While you are at your task: Who in the midst of Pleasure,

Will beyond active strain; And for your Pranks, wUl give you thanks.

And curtsey for your pain.

THE LONG VOCATION (Anonymous. From Pliis to Parg0 Melancholy. lyjo)

IN the long Vocation, When Business was scanty. But Cherries, and Whores, Extraordinary Plenty.

When News came to England,

The best e'er was known. All our Armies Victorious,

The French overthrown.

When Quality withdrew

To their Grottos of Pleasure, And Ladies to the Wells,

To spend their Lord's Treasure.

When decrepit old Sinners^

To the Bath did resort. For venereal Distempers^

As well as the Sport.

When the Red Robe was gone^

To the Country Assizes, And Butchers, and Carmen,

Were fighting of Prizes.

When Orthodox also. From the Pulpit did roar; [i8o]

Twas the Sini of the Natioii» Made our Taxes so sore.

Wh^ young Golden Captains^

Did walk the Parade; But a draught once in motion.

Were always afraid.

When the Cits did retire. To their Country-Houses;

Leaving Servants at home. To lie with their Spouses.

When Wives too would junket, While their Cuckolds did tletp:

And spend more in a Nighty Than they got in a Week.

When high topping Merchants,

Were daily beset; And Statutes of Bankrupts,

Filled half our Gazette.

When Lawyers had not Money;

Nor Shop-keepers Trade; And our Nation preparing

Another to invade.

When Inns of Court-Rakes, And Quill-driving Prigs,

Flocked to St James's, To show their long Whigs.

When Sodomites were so impudent. To ply on the Exchange;

And by Day-light the Piazza's Of Covent-Garden to range.

When the Theatre ^ts. Would Shove for a Crown;

And for want of brisk Tradhig, Patrolled round the Town.

When Debauchees of both Sexes,

From Hospitals crept; Where Nine Months at least,

In Flannel they slq;>t [z8z]

When Dnperi imuggled PreiiticM» With Exchange Girls moet joUy;

After Shop was shut op. Could Sail to the PoUy.

When the Amorous ThimberkbiSy

In Pater-noster-Row; With their Sparks on an Evening,

Could Coach it to Bow.

When Poets and Players, Were so damnably poor;

That a Threfr-penny Ordixiary, Th^ often would Score.

When De Foe and the Devil,

At Leap-Frog did play; And huffing proud Vintners,

Broke every Day.

When Chamber-maids dressed. In their Mistresses Cloaths;

Walked in all Public places. To Ogle the Beaus.

When Tally-men had no Faith, With Strumpets and Whores;

But nabbed them in the Streets, By Dozens and Scores.

When Informers were Rogues,

And took double pay; Much worse than the Persons,

They are hired to betray.

When Serjeants were so vigilant, 'Twas impossible to shame 'em;

But whip see Jethro*, immediately, O Eternally D *em.

When Brewers to the Victuallers

Was so cursed severe. They scarce would give Credit,

For a Barrel of Beer.

Thus it is not evident.

Tap-ladies don't thrive; Since they swarm in most Prisons,

Like Bees in a Hive? [i8a]

Bat you Blue Apron Tribe, Let thia cantion prevail;

Be not too Smacj, Leat yon Rot in a QaoL

At thia Juncture of time, I atrolled to Moor-Fidda;

Much uaed by the Mob, To ezerdae their Heeli.

Alao famed for a Conjurer, The Devil'a head Proctor;

Where a Uttle below hun, Dwella the never bom Doctor.

Two auch Impudent Raacala, For Lying and Prating;

That the Seriea of their Livea, la not worth my Relating.

My Pocketa being lined well. With Rhino good atore;

And Indinationa much bait, After a thing called a Whore.

To gratify my Luat,

I went to the Star; Where immediately I eapied,

A Whore in the Bar.

Whoae Phia waa moat charming. And aa demure aa a Saint;

But confoundedly bedaubed. With Patchea and Paint

Sweet Lady, cried I,

I vow and proteat; The Sight of your Charma,

Have ao wounded my Breaat

That I am downright in Love, And my Life ahaU Deatroy;

If you do not admit me. Your Favour to enjoy.

Cringing in her A— - The B then replied;

My favour, kind Sir, Shall ne'er be denied. [X83]

win 70a pletM to walk up. Or be ^vate bdow;

Here Boy, with a Bed in*t» The Gentleinan show.

Then backwards he went. To a Cavern behind;

But such an hitricate Pkce» The Devil could not find.

Where Wine bemg brought, And the Fellow withdrawn;

I caressed her with Love^ She made a return.

No Pigs hi a Stye,

Or Goats in Bad Weather; E'er nussled so dose,

Or more Amorous together.

We Kissed and we billed. We tickled and toyed;

And more than once. Our selves we

But the Reckoning grew high. Which would make my Pocket low;

So how for to Bilk 'em, I did not well know.

But at last by a Stratagem,

Pretending to rally; While she went for more Wine^

I whipped into an Ally.

And was so dexterous nimb ifi^

They could not pursue; So got rid of my Mistress,

And D— — Reckoning toa

Recovering the Fields,

I was void of all Fear; And the next place to Bedlam,

My Course I did steer.

Where was such amphibious Crowds^ I ne'er saw before;

[xS4]

Harlots for the Water, As well as the Shore.

But one above the rest.

So wondrous Trim; You would sware she was a Hick,

And no common Brim.

Accosted me presently. And called me her Love;

But I soon did dismiss her, With a Kick and a Shove.

For the Jade was so homely. The Devil would not touch her;

Pit only for a Dray-man, Or White-Chapel Butcher.

But had not walked long. Before a rare one I eq;>ied;

Bright as a Goddess, And adorned like a Bride.

With a rich Furbelow Scarf, Worth at least Forty Shillmg;

And when I asked her a Question, Was extraordinary willing.

So to the Tavern we went^

A Curse on the Place; For her Love was so hot,

It soon fired my A——.

Where after a Flask,

Which I swore she should pay; We took both our leaves.

And went strait away.

The Plague of my Sins, Made me damnable sore;

That my Wife soon concluded, I'd been with a Whore.

She scolded so loud.

And continued her Clamour; I could not forbear.

But to C— her and D her. [185]

We made such a Noiae» And confounded a Racket;

My Landlady knew, I'd been ■earching the Placket

And being good natnred. To make op the BSatter;

Came down in her Smock, With Jenny her Daughter.

Ahl Tennant (quoth She,) Let this fault be remitted;

If hell beg but your Pardon, He ahall be acquitted.

For to speak by the by.

And I'm sure 'tis fact; You and I have been guilty.

Of many such Act

THE OLD WOMAN'S WISH (Anonymous. From Piils to Purge Metancboiy. 1720)

AS I went by an Hospital, -^^ I heard an Old Woman cry. Kind Sir, quo^ she, be kind to me.

Once more before I Die, And grant to me those Joys,

That belong to Woman-kind, And the Pates above reward your Love,

To an Old Woman Poor and Blind.

I find an itching in my Blood,

Altho' it be something Cold, Therefore Good Man do what you can.

To comfort me now I'm Old. And Grrant to me those Joys,

That belong to Woman-kind, And the Fates above Reward your Love,

To an Old Woman Poor and Blind.

Altho' I cannot see the Day, For never a glance of light;

[x86]

Kind Sir, I swear and do declare,

I honour the Joys of Night: Then grant to me those Joys,

That belong to Woman-kmdy And the Pates above Reward your Love»

To an Old Wonun Poor and Blind

When I was in my Blooming Youth,

My vigorous Love was Hot; Now in my Age I dare Engage,

A fancy I still have got: Then give to me those Joys,

That belong to Woman-kind, And the Pates above Reward your Love,

To an Old Woman Poor and Blind

You shall gain of a Reward,

If Readily you comply; Then do not Blush but touch my flesh.

This minute before I die:

let me taste those Joys, That belong to Woman-kind,

And the Fates above Reward your Love, To an Old Woman Poor and Blind.

1 Forty Shillings would freely give, 'Tis all the Money I have;

Which I full long have begged for.

To carry me to my Qrave: This I would give to have the Bliss,

That belongs to Woman-kind, And the Fates above Reward your Love,

To an Old Woman Poor and Blind

I had a Husband in my Youth,

.As very well 'tis known, The truth to tell he pleased me well.

But now I am left alone; And long to taste the good Old Game,

That belongs to Woman-kind: And the Fates above Reward your Love,

To an Old Woman Poor and Blind

•

If Forty Shillings will not do.

My Petticoat and my Gown; Nay Smock also shall freely go^

To make up the other Crown:

1

Then Sir, pray Grant that kind Request;

That belongs to Wonian*kind; And the Pates above Reward your Love»

To an Old Woman Poor and Blind

Tho' I am Fourscore Years of Age»

I love with a Right good WiU; And what in troth I want in Youth,

I have it in perfect Skill: Then grant to me that Charming BIiss»

That belongs to Woman-kind; And the Fates above Reward jour Love,

To an Old Woman Poor and Blind

Now if you do not pleasure me,

And give me the thing I crave; I do protest I shall not rest,

When I am laid in my Grave: Therefore kind Sir, grant me the Joys»

That belong to Woman-kind; And the Fates above Reward your Love,

To an Old Woman Poor and Blind

THE JOLLY TRADES-MEN (Anonymous. From PUU to Purge M^macholy. 17J0)

SOMETIMES I am a Tapster new. And skilful in my Trade, Shr, I fin my Pots most duly. Without deceit or froth. Sir: A spicket of two Handfuls long, I use to Occupy Sir: And when I set a Butt abroach. Then shall no Beer run by Sir.

Sometimes I am a Butcher, And then I feel fat Ware Sir; And if the Flank be fleshed well, I take no fartiier care Sir: But in I tiirust my Slaughtering-Knife, Up to the Haft with speed Sir; For all that ever I can do, I cannot make it bleed Sir.

[x88]

Sometiniet I am a Baker,

And Bake both white and brown Sir;

I have as fine a Wrigling-Pole»

Aa any is in all this Town Sir:

But if my Oven be over-hot»

I dare not thrust it in Sir;

For burning of my Wrigling-Pole»

My Skill's not worth a Pin Sir.

Sometimes I am a Glover,

And can do passing well Sir;

In dressing of a Doe-skin,

I know I do excel Sir:

But if by chance a Flaw I find.

In dressing of the Leather;

I straightway whip my Needle out.

And I tack 'em dose together.

Sometimes I am a Cook, And in Fleet-Street I do dwell Sir: At the sign of the Sugar-loaf, As it is known full well Sir: And if a dainty Lass comes by. And wants a dainty bit Sur; I take four Quarters in my Arms, And put them on my Spit Sir.

In Weavering and in Fulling,

I have such passing Skill Sir;

And underneath my Weavering-Beam,

There stands a Fulling-Mill Sir:

To have good wives' displeasure,

I would be very loath Sir;

The Water runs so near my Hand;

It over-thicks my Cloath Sir.

Sometimes I am a Shoe-maker,

And work with silly Bones Sir;

To make my Leather soft and moist,

I use a pair of Stones Sir:

My Lasts for and my lasting Sticks,

Are fit for every size Sir;

I know the length of Lasses Feet,

By handling of their Thighs Sir.

The Tanner's Trade I practice. Sometimes amongst the rest Sir;

[189]

Yet I could never get a Hair,

Of any Hide I dress'd Sir;

For I have been tanning of a Hide^

This long seven Years and more Sir;

And yet it is as hairy still.

As ever it was before Sir.

Sometimes I am a Taylor, And work with Thread that's strong Sir; I have a fine great Needle, About two handfulls long Sir: The finest Sempster In this Town, That works by line or leisure; May use my Needle at a pinch. And do themselves great Pleasure.

NO WIT LIKE TO A WOMAN'S (From the Bxeter Oartand. 1720)

YOU Gallants all in London, pray draw near a while. Here's a pleasant Ditty will make you all to smile, ^s of a Merchant's Widow that did in London dwell. And she had Store of Riches, as many People tell.

She had a pretty Daughter, indeed she had no more. And she was Heir, as we do find to all her wordly Store. A Sailor came to court this Maid, but he was very poor. Yet ne'ertheless this Maiden fair did him much adore.

This youthful Couple agreed to wed in a little Time, If that the good old Woman they could get in Mind: But of her Gold and Silver she such a God did make. She kept her Daughter single all for her Fortune's Sake.

The Maiden said. Pray, Mother, let me wed my Desr, For we have loved each other above these seven Year. The Mother then she said. Have him with all my Heart, But with one Farthing of your Portion yet I will not part

The Daughter said. Your Reason for this let me know, Six thousand Pounds my Father has left me, that is true, As long as I have Wealth enough. 111 have the Man I love. And therefore I do hope you will of the Match approve.

[190]

Then straightway in Passion tiie old Woman swore» You're too young to marry yet» and therefore pray forbear. For you must let me marry first, for tfao' Vta old and gray, I have a Tooth within my Head thafs colthh I do say;

This Money 'twiQ bring me a Husband brisk and young,

• Tis Time enough for you to begin, I think, when I've done;

My Child, you ne'er knew the Bliss, and so yon cannot pine. As I for want of my Qoodman have done a tedious Time.

Dear Mother, you make me blush to hear yon talk so wild. But since you do a Husband want, I swear as I'm your Chfld I'll stay till you're married first, and when it is my Turn, I hope to have the Man I love, so let the Game go on.

Pray fit me for the Country, for there I mean to go. And there the jolly Sailor will not be in my View. The old Woman rejoiced at this, fit her out straightway Thinking she to Worcestershire would go without Delay.

This young crafty Damsel has a Frolic in her Head, She sent then for her Lover, and unto him she said, My Mother says my Portion must her a Husband buy. For she without a Bedfellow no longer cannot lie;

And therefore I'm resolved this Frolic for to play, I will cut my lovely Hair, and dress in Man's Array, A Suitor to my Mother 111 go in this Disguise, And cheat the good old Woman of all the golden Prize.

Her Lover he did heartily laugh to hear the same. Saying, If you do proceed, my Dear, 'twill be a pret^ Game; But prithee do you not think but that she'll know your Face. Ne'er fear, said the Damsel, for thus must stand the Case.

Ill stifle her with Kisses, and put her in Surprize, 111 vow and swear I notUng see but Beauty in her E^es; And if at any time she gazes in my Face, 111 on her Bosom lay my head, her Bubbles to embrace;

I've a Friend that soon shall go, my Person to commend, And tell I'm in Love with her, and soon she'll for me send: So fare you well, my dearest Dear, this Frolic 111 pursue. And every Day I'll let you know how all Matters go.

The old Woman thinking her Daughter out of Town She was resolv'd not very long for to lie alone;

[I9Z]

^lll.J J m^^^ftrs ■B.^wyii. JLPii ■^g^'^^wi^

And she among her Friends a visitmg did go.

In hopes a Husband for to get as she walked to and fra

Her Daughter, drest like a Beau, one day she did meet. Who kindly embraced her, ft swore the Kiss was sweet. Dear Madam» I'm so deep in Love, before that we do part, I beg youll tell me where you live, or yonll break my Heart.

She said. Go along with me, and if your Love be true. Yon are a charming pretty Youth, and I can fancy you, IVe Store of Gold and Silver to make you rich and greats A Chariot wherein you may ride. Footmen on you to wait.

She not thinking who this young airy Spark might be She took her new Acquaintance home immediately; This Spark fell strong to courting, ft suddenly did swear Ten thousand charming Beauties in her Eyes there were.

Then gave her melting Kisses, & pulled her on's Knee, And with her ancient Bubbles played a pleasant Comedy. The old Women did simper, ft was pleased to the Heart, Saying, My Dear, a Diamond Ring, I'll give before we part

Then up Stairs she took him to see her golden Store, Saying, The Day I marry you. 111 give you this and more; But can you love me heartily, tell me my pretty Dear, Because you see that I am old, and stricken well in Years.

And you are but a Stripling, just in your youthful I fear jrou will a Whoring run, and leave me for to pine. Dear Madam, I did never love a Whore in all my Life, I'll be as constant as the Dove when you are made my Wife.

My Dear, said the old Woman, on St. Andrew's Day We will be joined together in private I do say: I'll make you Master of my Store before to Bed we go. That you better may reward my Love for doing sa

With many amorous Kisses they parted that Night, She goes unto the Sailor her joy and Heart's Delight; She gave him the Diamond Ring and told her Success, And tho' she had Breeches on, they lovingly embraced.

A courting to her Mother each Day she constant went At length St. Andrew's Day came, to her great Content To Church then to be married thk couple they did hie. The Marriage being over, the Fun comes by and by.

[Z93]

As soon as e'er the Bridegroom came within the Door She took him in and made him the Master ol her Store, Her QoH Bonds, ft Leases, she did to her Sponse resign, Sajdng, Take Possession of my Store fo^ thon'r fairly mine.

This done, the Female Bridegroom began to be in Care Which way the golden Prize to convey unto her Dear, Then turning to her Mother, said. My Heart's Delight, Well go abroad to dine to Day, and home to Bed at Night

The Bride she had a Sister lived in Hanover-Square, She agreed to go thither, and Spouse to meet her there, Her Chariot was made ready, as soon as she was gone. The Maid for the Sailor sent, ft told him what was done.

Ten thousand Pound to the jolly Sailor she did give. Sirring, To-morrow 111 be with you, if that I do live. But I must give my Bride my Company to Night I fear the Bargain she'll repent before the Morning light

The Sailor went off, the Bridegroom went to the Bride Soon as she entered tiie Room, the Aunt in surprise said, I'm sure, if this your Husband be, I verily do swear It is your only Daughter that does the Breeches wear.

The Devil take her if it be, (The Mother then did say) Now steadfastly I look at her, I really thfaik 'tis she; But to be further satisfied, I solemnly do swear, I will have the Breeches down to know what Sort of Ware.

Then rising in a Passion did about the Breeches fall The Daughter laughed heartily, she had no strength at all. She said. How can you be so rude such Things to discover? I'm sure I am as good a Man as ever was my Mother.

She got the Breeches do^n, & fotmd that it #as true, She said. Since you've me deceived 111 surely make you me. It is not in your Power, (the Daughter she did say) You fairly did surrender your Treasure' unto me;

So I'm resolved to-morrow to wed the Sailor bright, I think it is high time I should, know the sweet Delight That sets you thus a longing, and when that I have done. You may get a Husband, when it comes to your Turn.

The old Woman tore the Teeth out of her Head, Next Day the youthful Lady she did the Sailor wed. The Mother still a hundred a Year does possess. And when it comes in her Turn she's to be carewed.

[Z93]

PRETTY KATE OF WINDSOR: A NEW

BALLAD

(AnonyiBoos. From PiiiM to Purge M^sacholy. 17^0)

NEAR to the Town of Windsor, upon a pleasant Green, There lived a Miller's Daughter, her Age about Eighteen. A Skin as White as Alabaster, and a killing l^e, A round Plump bonny Buttock joined to a taper Thigh; Then ahl be kind, my Dear, be kinder, was the Ditty still. When pretty Kate of Windsor came to the MilL

To treat with her in Private, first came a Booby Squire^ He offered ten broad Pieces, but she refused the hire; She said his Com was musty, nor should her ToU-dish fill. His Measure too so scanty, she feared 'twould bum her MilL Then ahl be kind, etc

Soon after came a Lawyer, as he the Circuit went.

He swore he'd Cheat her Landlord, and she should pay no

Rent; He questioned the Pee sample; but him she plainly told, 111 keep in spight of Law Tricks, mine own dear Copyhold Then ahl be kind, etc

The next came on a Trooper, that did of Fighting prate^ Till she pulled out his Pistol, and knocked him o'er the Pate. I hate, she cried, a Hector, a Drone without a Sting, For if you must be Fighting Friend, go do it for the King. Then ahl be kind, etc

A late discarded Courtier, would next her favour win. He offered her a Thousand when e'er King James came in; She laughed at that extremely, and said it was too small. For if he e'er comes in again, you'll get the Devil and alL Then ahl be kind, etc

Next came a strutting Sailor that was of Mate's degree^ He bragged much of his Valour in the late Fight at Sea; She told him his Bravados but lamely did appear. For if you had stood to't, you Rogues, the French had ne'er came here. Then ahl be kind, etc

A Shopkeeper of London then opened his Love Case, He told her he was Famous for Penning an Address; She told City-wisdom was known by their Affairs,

[194]

Qufld-Hall was full of Wh too in choice of Sheriffs and Mayors^ Then ah! be kind. etc.

Next came a smug Ph3r8ician upon a Pacing Mare» But she declared she liked him much worse than any there; He was so used to Blisters, she told him to his Face, He always would be bobbing his Pipe at the wrong place. Then ahl be land, etc

The Parson of the Town then did next his flame reveal, She made him second Mourning, and covered him with Meal; The Man of God stood fretting, she bid him not be vex^ 'Twill serve you for a Surplice to Cant in Sunday next. Then ahl be kind, etc.

Now if you'd know the reason she was to them unkind. There was a brisk young Parmer that taught her still to

grind; She knew 1dm for a Workman that had the ready skQ], To open well her Water-gate, and best supply her Mill.

Then ahl be kind, my Dear, be kinder, was the Ditty stiUt When pretty Kate of Windsor came to the MilL

LAMENTATION FOR DORINDA (By Matthew Prior. From Poems. 17^3)

FAREWELL ye shady walks, and Sinking valleys, rising mountains: Farewell ye crystal streams, that pass Thro' fragrant meads of verdant grass: Farewell ye flowers, sweet and fair, That used to grace Dorinda's hair: Farewell ye woods, who used to shade The pressing youth, and yielding maid: Farewell ye birds, whose morning song Oft made us know we slept too long: Farewell dear bed, so often prest. So often above others blest. With the kind weight of all her charms. When panting, dying, in my arms. Dorinda's gone, gone far away, She's gone, and Strephon cannot stay: By sympathetic ties I find

[X95]

^■■'P^BW«i^"W^"^i^^*""^^^^^^^i^^*^"»t»i»^^*'^'^^"^

That to Her tphert I am confin'd; My motiona still on Her must wait^ And what She willa to me ia fate.

She's gone» Ol hear it all ye bowers. Ye walks, ye fomitaina, trees, and flowers. For whom you made your earliest show. For whom you took a pride to grow. She's gone, Ol hear ye nightingales. Ye mountains ring it to the vales. And echo to tiie country round. The mournful, dismal, killing sound: Dorinda's gone, and Strephon goes. To find with Her his lost rq;>ose.

But ere I go, Ol let me see. That aU things mourn Her loss like me: Play, play, no more ye spouting fountains, Rise ye vallesrs, sink ye mountains; Ye walks, in moss, neglected lie. Ye birds, be mute; ye stream, be dry. Fade, fade, ye flowers, and let the rose No more its blushing buds disclose: Ye spreading beech, and taper fir. Languish away in mourning Her; And never let your friendly shade. The stealth of other Lovers aid. And thou, Ol dear, delightful bed. The altar where Her maidenhead. With burning cheeks, and down cast eyes. With panting breasts, and Idnd replies. And other due solemnity. Was offer'd up to love and me. Hereafter suffer no abuse. Since consecrated to our use. As thou art sacred, don't profane Thy self with any vulgar stain. But to thy pride be still displayed. The print her lovely limbs have made: See, in a moment, all is chang'd. The flowers shrunk up, the trees disrang'd, And that which wore so sweet a face. Become a horrid, desert place. Nature Her influence withdraws, Th' effect must follow still the cause. And where Dorinda will reside, Nature must there all gay provide. Decking that happy spot of earth,

[196]

Like EdenVGarden at ita birth,

To pleaae Her matchless, darling Maid,

The wonder of her Forming-Trade;

Excelling All who e'er Excelled,

And as we ne'er the like beheld,

So neither is, nor e'er can be,

Her Parallel, or Second She.

ADVICE TO A LADY (By Matthew Prior. From Poems. 1722)

PHILLIS, give this hmnour over. We too long have time abused; I shall twn an errant rover. If the favour's still refused.

Faith I 'tis nonsense out of measure.

Without ending thus to see Women forced to taste a pleasure

Which they love as well as we.

Let not pride and folly share yon. We were made but to enjoy; Ne'er will age or censure spttrt you. E'er the more for being coy.

Never fancy Time's before you. Youth, believe me, will away;

Then, alas! who will adore yon. Or to wrinkles tribute pay?

All the swains on you attending Show how much your charms deserve;

But, miser-like, for fear of spending. You amidst your plenty starve.

While a thousand freer lasses, Who their youth and charms employ.

Though your beauty their's surpasses. Live in far more perfect joy.

[Z97]

AN ANSWER TO THE CURIOUS MAID

(By Matthew Prior. 1731)

To doe's Lap all Men must yield; Against this Part there is no shield.

—Late MisceL

THY Muse, O Bardl that Wonders tell. Pair Cloe's Charms Below Reveals; The Blissful Seat all Men Adore, When felt; when seen, that strikes no more: Tho' thus thy Muse Displays the Place, Pull oft Review'd in Shining Glass; Yet still Neglects thy vent'rous Lsrre, The Greatest Joys which Youths inspire.

As Laborers in the Oozy Must deep Descend, (as Lakes of Brine) In caverns dark, thro' Veins below. Thro' Mazes, Turnings, Windings go. Earth's Treasures far beneath unbind. The (void and Silver Oar to find; 80 must each Swain his Courage prove, Within, to seek the Joys ol Love.

When Ships at Sea, in Storms are tost^ By furious (Sales in Tempest lost; When foaming Waves disturb the Main; Below the Waters move Serene; Thus Ruff to view tho' Cloe's Pride, Within the greatest Charms reside.

'Tis no One Toy that wins the Swain, That gives to Youthful Damon Pain; The Bjres like Stars, and shining Hair, The globous Breasts our Youths Ensnare; Fine Ivory Limbs concealed, Surprize; The Vale, and Mount, and Snowy Thighs, Of Beauteous Cloe ne'er employed In Love, nor Ever once Enjoyed; He's more than Man that These can view. And not the Game of Love pursue.

When panting Breast to Breast is joined, We Feast on Raptures unconfined. Vast and Luxuriant, such as prove. The Immortality of Love.

[198]

Love's Palace fills each Breast with Fire» This Damon moves with strong Desire: As Lilies fair the Banks adorn, And Violets in the Bosom worn; As near some purling Streams are seen. The spreading Boughs of Willow Green; As Trees that grace the verdant Plain, And Hiils compleat the Rural Scene; As Noble Mansions furnished roimd. With Hangings fair and Fringe abound; So Cloe gay has powerful Charms, To set off what the Lover warms.

No single Joy the Swain excites, 'TIS All the Female that invites; Her Sense, her Wit, her Beauties all. By which the Youthful Lovers falL

As Warriors in the Martial Field, Make Stubborn Foes to Conduct yidd, By various Arts and Toils prevail, When Cannons loud and Mortars fail; Thus when their Charms Below are vain, By others Females Conquest gain.

THE SWIMMING LADY: OR, A WANTON

DISCOVERY

(Anonymotts. From CotL of Old Bailada. 17^3)

Being « true Relation of « Cot Lady betray'd by her Loi?er at the was Strippinff herself itark Naked, and Swimming in a Riyer near Oxford.

THE four and twentieth Day of May, Of all Times in the Year, A Virgin-Lady bright and gay.

Did privately appear Close by a River-side, which she

Did single out the rather, 'Cause she was sure, she was secure. And had an Intent to bath her.

With glittering Glance, her jealous Byes,

Did slyly look about. To see tf any lurking Spies,

Were hid to find her out;

[199]

And being well resohr'd that none

Could view her Nakedness; She puts her Robes o&, one by one

And doth her self undress.

A purple Mantle (fringed with Gold)

Her Ivory Hands unpin. It would have made a Coward bold*

Or tempted a Saint to sin; She turns about to look again,

I hope, says she, I am safe. And then a Rosy Petticoat,

She presently put off.

The Snow-white Smock which she had on

Transparently so decked her. It looked like Cambrick-Lawn, upon

An Alabaster Picture, Thro' which your Eye might faintly spy

Her Belly and her Back; Her Limbs were strait, and all was white

But that which should be black.

The Part which she's ashamed to see

Without a bashful Blush, Appeared like curious Tiffany

Displayed iipon a Bush: But that Posterior extreme Limb

She cannot look upon. Did like a twisted Cherry seem

Before the white was gone.

As when a Masquing Scene is drawn.

And new Lights do appear. When she put off her Smock of Lawn,

Just such a Sight was there: The bright Reflection of her Qyes,

In every Limb was strowed. As when the radiant Sun dotfi rise.

And gild each neighbouring Cloud,

Into a fluent Stream she leapt^

Which look'd like liquid Glass; The Fishes from all Quarters crept.

To see what Angel 'twas; She did so like a Vision look.

Or Fancy in a Dream, 'Twas thought the Sun the Sky forsook.

And dropt into the Stream,

[aoo]

Each Fish did wish himself a Man,

Ahout her all were drawn. And at the Sight of her began

To spread abroad their Spawn: She turned to swim iq;>on her Back,

And so displayed her Banner, If Jove had then in Heaven been

He would have dropt upon her.

Thus was the River's Diamond Head,

With Pearl and Sapphire crowned: Her Legs did shove, her Arms did move.

Her Body did rebound; She that did quaff the Juice of Joy,

(Fair Venus Queen <rf Love) With Mars did never in more wajrs.

Of melting Motion move.

A Lad that long her Love had been.

And could obtain no Qrace, For all her prying, lay unseen;

Hid in a secret Place; Who having been repulsed when he

Did often come to wooe her, Pull'd off his Clothes, and furiously

Did run and leap in to her.

She shrieks, she strives, and down she dives,

He brings her up again. He got her o'er, upon the Shore,

And then, and then, and theni As Adam ctid old Eve enjoy.

You may guess what I mean; Because she all uncovered lay.

He covered her again.

With watry Eyes, she pants, and cries

Fm utterly undone. If you'll not be wedded unto me.

E'er the next Morning Sun; He answered her, 111 never stir

Out of thy Sight 'till then; Well both clap Hands, in Wedlock Bands,

Marry, and to't agen.

[aoi]

THE WANTON WIFE OF BATH (Anonymoas. Prom CoiL oi Did Ballads. 17J3)

TN Bath a wanton Wife did dwdl, -■- As Chaucer he doth write; Who did in Pleasure spend her Days* In many a Fond Ddight

Upon a time fore sick she was.

And at the length did die; Her Soul at last at Heaven's Gate,

Did knock most mightily.

Then Adam came unto the Gate,

Who knocketh there? quoth he: I am the Wife of Bath, she said.

And fain would come to thee.

Thou art a Sinner, Adam said. And here no Place shaU have,

Alas for you, good Sir, she said. Now gip you doting Knave.

I win come in, in spight she said.

Of all such Churles as thee; Thou wert the Causer of our Woe,

Our Pain and Misery;

And first broke God's Commandments,

In pleasure of thy Wife: When Adam heard her tell this Tale,

He ran away for Life.

Then down came Jacob at the Gate,

And bids her pack to HeO, Thou false Deceiver, why, said she.

Thou may'st be there as welL

For thou deceiv'st thy Father dear.

And thine own Brother too. Away went Jacob presently.

And made no more ada

She knocks again with might and main. And Lot, he chides her strait:

Why then, quoth she, thou drunken Ass, Who bid thee here to wait

[aos]

With ihy two Daughters ihou did'st Iie»

On them two Bastards got; And thus most tauntingly she chaft

Against poor silly Lot

Who calleth there, quoth Juditii then. With such shrill sounding Notes?

This fine Minx surely cannot hear. Quoth She, for cutting Throats.

Good Lord, how Judith blushM for shame

When she heard her say so; King David hearing of the same,

He to the Gate did go.

Quoth David, who knocks there so loud.

And maketh all this Strife I You were more kind, good Sir, she said.

Unto Uriah's Wife.

And when thou causedest thy Servant

In Battle to be slain. Thou causedest then more strife than I,

Who would come here so fain.

The Woman's mad, said Solomon, That thus doth taunt a King.

Not half so mad as you, she said, I know in many a thing.

Thou haddest seven Hundred Wives, For whom thou did'st provide.

Yet for all this, three hundred Whores, Thou did'st maintain beside.

And those made thee forsake thy God, And worship Stocks and Stones,

Besides the charge they put thee to In breeding of young Bones.

Had'st thou not been besides thy Wits, Thou would'st not thus have ventured;

And therefore I do marvel much. How thou this Place hast entered.

I never heard, quoth Jonas then.

So vile a Scold as this. Thou Whoreson run away, quoth she.

Thou diddest more amiss.

[ao3]

I thinks quoth Thomat, Women's Tonsoes

Of Aspen-Leaves are made. Thou unbelievmg Wretch, quoth she.

All is not true that's said.

What Mary Magdalen heard her then.

She came unto the Gate, Quoth she, good Woman, you nmst think

Upon your former State.

No Sinner enters in this Place,

Quoth Mary Magdalen then, 'Twere ill for you, fair Mistress mild

She answer'd her again:

You for your Honesty, quoth she. Should once be stoned to Death,

Had not our Saviour Christ come by. And written on the Berth.

It was not your Occupation,

You are become divine, I hope my Soul in Christ's Passion

Shall be as safe as thine.

Then rose the good Apostle Paul,

Unto this Wife he cried, Blxcept thou shake thy Sins away

Thou here shalt be denied.

Remember Paul, what thou hast done,

All thro' a lewd Desire, How thou did'st persecute God's Church,

With Wrath as hot as fire.

Then up starts Peter, at the last.

And to the Gate he highs. Fond Fool, quoth he, knock not so fast,

Thou weariest Christ with Cries.

Peter, said she, content thy self.

For Mercy may be won, I never did deny my Christ

As thou thy self hath done.

When as our Saviour Christ heard this.

With heavenly Angels bright. He comes unto this sinful Soul,

Who trembled at his Sight

[904]

Of him for Mercy she did crave. Quoth he, thou hast refused

My proffered, Grace, and Mercy both. And much my Name abused.

Sore have I slna^d, O Lord, ibe sMld, Ami spent my time in vein.

But bring me iilie a wand* ring Siieep into iity FiociL again:

O Lord my Qod, i wiii amend My iormer wiciced Vice.

The Thief at these poor siUy Words, Past into

My Laws and my Commandments, Saith Christ, were known to thee.

But of the same in any wise. Not yet one Word did ye.

I grant the same, O lord, quoth she.

Most lewdly did I live. But yet the loving Father did

His prodigal Son forgive.

So I forgive thy Soul, he said. Through thy repenting Cry,

Come you therefore into my Joy, I will not thee deny.

THE COWARDLY CLOWN OF FLANDERS

CUCKOLDED

(Anonymous. Prom Coil, oi Oid Baiiada. 17J3)

AN honest Man as I am told, ^^ He was a Cuckold made; With hia sweet Wife, a Spaniard bold.

The wanton Frolick plaid. rU tell you how it came to pass,

If you'll attend a whfle; A guinea to a single Groat, This Song will make you smile.

[305]

Ill Flanden fair, a simple Clown,

At he traveUing had been; Bringing his Wife in Company,

Came late nnto his Inn: A Spanish Soldier being there,

A guest unto the Place. No sooner saw, but liked his Wife;

She had a comely Face.

Her Cheeks for curious Red and White

The like is seldom seen; All were charming Beauty bright.

And of a courteous Mien; The Soldier then his Weapon drew,

And stood qpon his Guard, And vowed he'd have a touch or two^

Or it should 'scape him hard.

No Rest or Quiet could he take.

For Cupid's loud Alarms: Free Plunder he resolved to make

Of her Delightful Charms. He watched when they were gone to Bed,

Then boldly in comes he. And never said. Friend, by your leave.

But made their Number three.

He clasped her round her tender waist,

And fairly fell to work; She had not oft been so embraced.

He pleased her at a Jerk: The Clown lay still and felt a stir.

But durst no speak for's Life: At length his Patience was so moved.

He softly jogged his Wife.

And said to her, prithee intreat

The Spaniard to be still. To speak Spanish, Man, quoth she,

You know I have no SkilL But Husband, if you please to rise.

And to the Sexton go. He understandeth Spanish well.

Assuredly I know.

Faith, and 111 fetch bun strait, quoth he. And so the Rustick rose,

[ao6]

And softly sneakiiig out o' Door,

About his Message goes: Meantime imagine what you will.

To me it is unknown: But e'er her Husband came again.

The Spaniard he was gone.

Which when the sinq>le Man perceived. He fell to Domineer;

Wife, said he, for Twenty Pound I would he had been here.

This Cudgel should have thrashed his Hide

Till all his Bones were broke: That I would have been satisfyed,

'Cause he did me provoke.

By this chastizing Hand of mine. He should have felt the Smart:

1 know he had some base design. Which vexed me to the Heart.

Tell me, Sweet heart, when I was gone.

How long the Knave did stay? Quoth she. You scarce was out of Doors

Before he ran away.

Wife, quoth the Clown, thou mak'st me laugh.

That I did fear him thus: Come let us take a little nap.

For his disturbing us; You see what comes of Policy,

And good discretion Wife, If I had been some hasty Fool,

It might have cost my Life.

Ah, so it might, quoth she, my Dear,

'Tis wen you had that Wit, I should have died for very Fear,

If you and he had fit; Come let us keep each other warm.

And pleasant Stories tell; OhI as he has done me no harm.

So all I hope is welL

[ao7]

THE WORCESTERSHIRE WEDDING (Anonymous. Prom CoiL oi Did Baiimds. 17J3)

AN old Woman clothed in gray. Her Daughter was charming and Young, Who chanced to be mudled astray, By Roger's false flattering tongue. With whom she'd so often been. Abroad in ^e Meadows and Fields, Her Belly got iq> to her Chin, And her Spirits quite down to her Heels.

At length she began for to puke, Her Mother possessed with a fear. Then gave her a gentle Rebuke, And said. Child, a Word m thy Bar, I fear thou hast been plajring the Fool, Which many call high ding a ding: Why didst thou not follow my Rule,

And tie thy two Toes in a String.

•

Dear Mother your Counsel I took.

But yet it was never the near.

He got to my Conjuring Book,

And broke all the Paltry Geer:

Twas Thread of two Shillings an Ounce,

He broke it and would have his scope;

It is but a FoUy to flounce,

'Tis done and it cannot be hope.

But who is the Fatiier of it, Tell me without longer delay, For now I am just in the Fit, To go and hear what he will say; 'Twas Roger the Damsel replied. Who called me his dear pretty Bird, And told me I should be his Bride But he's not so good as his Word.

What, Roger that lives in Mill? Yes, verily. Mother the same. Of me he has had his Will; 111 hop to him tho' I am Lame; Go fetch me my Crutches with speed. And bring me my Spectacles too A lecture to him I will read. Shall ring his Ears thro' and thro'.

[ao8]

This said she went hopping away. And came to young Hodge in the Mill, On whom she her Crutches did lay. And cried you have ruined poor Gill, In getting her dear Maidenhead; This Truth you can no Ways deny; With her I advise you to wed. And make her as honest as L

But what will you give me, quoth Hodge,

If I take her off of your Hands;

You shall make me Heir of your Lodge,

Your Houses, your Money and Lands;

Your Bams, your Cattle and Plows,

With every Weather and Yew;

This done I will make her my Spouse

Speak up, are you willing or no?

She said, taking Hodgy by the Hand, Let it come to Have and to Hold, You shall have my Houses and Land, My Cattle, my Silver and Ctold: Make her but thy honoured Wife, And thou shalt be Lord of 'my Store, Whene'er I surrender my Life, In case it was Forty times more.

The Bargain was presently struck; The Marriage and this being done, The old Woman wished them good luck, Being proud of her Daughter and Son: Then hye for a Qirl or a Boy, Young Siss looked as great as a Dutchess: The old Woman capered for Joy, And danced a Jigg in her Crutches.

THE SCOTCH LASS'S LAMENTATION

(Anonymous. Prom Coll. oi Old Ballads. 17J3)

THERE lived a Lass in our Town, Her name was Moggy Lawder, And She would fain have plaid the Loon,

But durst not tell her Father; Now she's forgot her Father's' fear,

[909]

And on iht same did vtotart. And mfterwards as you shall hear A lad did oft frequent her.

Now Moggy Lawder on a Day,

A Barber Lad did meet her, Both Joy and Heart to her did say,

And Idndly he did treat her: My dear let me get thee with Beam,

And I shall be its Father, And youll be Mother of the same,

My bonny Moggy Lawder.

Sweet-heart to him she says indeed.

And so did fall a weeping, Fm wearied with my Maidenhead

While I have it in keeping: Bnt if thonlt tme and tmsty be,

As I am Moggy Lawder, I then will give it unto thee,

But do not ten my Father.

For if my Father hear the same,

Right fore he will abuse me. But I think long to try the Gune,

Therefore 111 not refuse thee: But first protest to marry me.

To be my Baby's Father, And be a Husband unto m^

Bonny Moggy Lawder.

My Dear, says he, indeed I am.

Unto my Trade a Shaver, And there is not a living Man,

Can call me a Deceiver; Yea surely I will marry ^ee.

And be thy Baby's Father, And thou shalt be a Wife to me.

My bonny Moggy Lawder.

And then to her he gave a Kiss,

Sajring, Dear, how shall I please thee, Be sure I will do more than this.

And of thy Troubles ease thee: And all along upon her Back,

He laid poor Moggy Lawder, Gave her a Scope upon her dope.

She durst not tell her Father.

[axo]

wFm

Whh KSsBcs and Embraces tlieii»

In Peace and Love they parted. And did appoint anotlier time.

To meet tliere loving liearted: And with a merry Heart's content,

With what the Lad liad gave her. Rejoicing homeward as she went

She sung the jolly Shaver.

But now the Seed that late was sown.

Is become a springing, And she is melancholy grown.

And has left off her singing: And often in her heart could wish,

That she had been at Calder, For Edinborough is filled with.

The talk of Moggy Lawder.

And now tiie Word is spread abroad.

That she with Beam has proved. The Barber Lad has ta'en the Road,

And left the Lass he loved: And to another Nation's gone.

And left his Moggy Lawder, Right sad in heart not knowing where.

To find her Child a Father.

All you yoimg Maids that marry would.

See that you be more coy, Throw not your Maidenhead away,

Lest it should you annoy: And in the end you be beguiled.

As was Moggy Lawder, First marry then you may be sure,

Your Child shall have a Father.

THE BAFFLED KNIGHT^

(Anonymous. >Prom ColL of Old Baiisda* xj^i)

THERE was a Knight was drunk with Wine^ a riding along the way. Sir, And there he did meet with a Lady fine^ and among tiie Cocks of Hay, Sir.

1 See another rersion on page 175.

One Favour he did crave of her, and ask'd to lay her down, Sir,

But he had neither Cloth nor Sheet; to keep her' from the Grotmdv Sir.

There ia a great Dew upon the Graas, and if you should lay me down. Sir,

You would ipoil my gay clothing, that has coat me many a Pound, Sir.

I have a Cloak of Scarlet red,

111 lay it under thee. Love, So you will grant me my request,

that I shall ask of you. Love.

« 

And if youll go to my Father's Hall, that is moated all round about, Sir,

There you shall have your Will of me, within. Sir, and without, Sir.

Oh yonder stands my Milk-white Steed, and among the Cocks of Hay, Sir,

If the King's Penner should chance to come, he'll take my Steed away, Sir.

I have a Ring upon my Finger, it's made of the finest Gold, Love

And it shall serve to fetch your Steed, out of the Pinner's Fold, Love. '

And if youll go to my Father's House, round which there's many a Tree, Sir,

There you shall have your Chamber free, and srour Chamberlain 111 be. Sir.

He aat her on a Milk-white Steed,

himself u!pon another; And then th^ rid along the way,

like Sister and like Brother^

But when she came to her Fatiier's House, which was moated all round about. Sir,

She slipped herself within the Gate, and she locked the Knight without. Sir.

I thank you kind Knight for seeing me here, and bringing me home a Mdden, Sir,

[aia]

But you shall have two of my Father't Men, for to set you as far back again, Sir.

He drew his Sword out of his Scabbard,

and whet it upon his Sleeve, Sir, Sajring, Cursed be to ev'ry Man,

that will a Maid believe. Sir.

She drew her Handkerchief out of her Pocket, and threw it upon the Ground, Sir,

Saying, thrice cursed be to ev'ry Maid, that will believe a Man, Sir.

We have a Tree in our Garden,

some call it of Rosemary, Sir; There's Crowing-cocks in our Town,

that will make a Capon of you. Sir.

We have a Flower in our Garden,

some caU it a Mary gold. Sir; And he that would not when he might,

he shall not when he would. Sir.

But if yon chance for to meet a Maid,

a little below the Tpwn, Shr, You must not fear her gay clothing,

nor the wrinkling of her Gown, Sir.

And if you chance for to meet a Maid,

a little below the HOI, Sir, Yon need not fear her shrieking out,

for she quickly wiU he still. Sir.

The baffled Knight was 1^ the Lass

ingeniously out-witted; And since that time, it came to pass,

he was again well fitted:

As he was riding cross a

in Boots, Spurs, Hat and Feather, He met that Lady fair again,

they talk'd a whfle together.

He said, tho' you did serve me so,

and cunningly decoy me; Yet now, before you further go,

I must and will enjoy thee.

[az3]

• Twaf near a apadoiis River's aide^

where Ruahea green were grondng,

And Neptnne'a ailver Streama did glide, four Fatbom Watera flowing.

The Lady blnah'd like Scarlet-red, and trembling at thia Stranger;

How ahall I guard my Maiden-head from thia approaching danger?

With a lamenting aigh, aaid she,

to die I now am ready: Moat tiiia diahonour fall on me?

a moat unhappy Ladyt

He from hia Saddle did a-light

in gaudy rich attire; And cried, I am a Noble Knight,

who do your Charma admire.

He took the Lady by the Hand,

who aeemingly consented; And would no more disputing stand,

ahe had a Plot invented.

How ahe might baffle him again, with much Delight and Pleasure;

And eke unq;>otted still remain with her pure Virgin Treasure.

Look yonder, good Sir Knight, I pray,

methinka I do diacover. Well mounted on a Dapple-grey,

my true entire Lover.

The Knight, he standing on the brink

<rf the deep floating River; Thought ahe, thou now ahalt swim or aink;

chuse which thou fancy rather.

Againat hia back the Lady run,

the Waters strait he found: He cried out, Lovet What have yon done!

helpl helpl or I am drowned!

Said ahe. Sir Knight, farewdl, adieu, you aee what comea of fooling:

[3X4]

That is tbe fittest place for you* whose Courage wanted cooUng.

Love, help me out, and Fll this Fault which you've committed:

No, no^ says she. Sir, as I live, I think you're finely fitted.

She rid home to her Father's House

for speedy expedition; While the gay Knight was soaked like Souce,

in a sad wet condition.

When he came mounted to the Plain,

he was in rich attire: Yet when he back returned again,

he was all Muck and Mire.

A solemn Vow he there did make, just as he came uom swimming.

He'd love no Lady, for her sake, nor any other Women.

The Baffled Knight was fooled once more, youll find by this pleasant ditty.

For she whose Charms he did adore was wonderful sharp and witty.

Returning from her Father's Parl^ just dose by a Summer Bower,

She chanced to meet her angry Sparl^ Who gave her a frowning lower.

The tiioughts of what she twice had done, did cause him to draw his Rapier,

And at the Lady then he run, and thus he bc^^an to vapour:

Yon chous'd me at your Father's Gate,

then tumbled me into the River, I seek for satisfaction, straight;

Shall I be a Fool for ever?

He came witii Resolution bent

that Evening to enjoy her; And if she did not give consent,

that Minute he would destroy her.

[az5]

I pray Sir Knight, and why so hot against a young silly Woman?

Such Crimes as these might be forgot, for merry intrigues are common.

What do you count it Mirth, he cried, to tumble me in and leave me?

What if I drowned there had died, a dangerous Jest, believe me.

Well, if I pardon you this Day those Injuries out of measure

It is because without delay I mean to enjoy the Pleasure.

Your suit, she said, is not denied, but think of your Boots of Leatiier;

And let me pull them off, she cried, before we lie down together.

He set him down upon the Grass, and Violets so sweet and tender;

Now 1^ this means it came to pass, that she did his purpose hinder.

For having pulled his Boots half way, she cried, I am now your betters;

You shall not make of me your Prey, sit there like a Thief hi Fetters.

Now finding she had served him so, he rose and began to grumble;

Yet he could neither stand nor go, but did a Cripple tumble.

The Boots stuck fast, and would not stir, his f oUy she soon did mention.

And laughing said, I pray kind Sir, How like you my new Invention I

My laughing Fit you must excuse, you are but a stingless Nettie;

You'd ne'er a stood for Boots or Shoes, had you been a Man of Mettle.

Farewell, Sir Knight, 'tis almost Ten, I fear neither Wind nor Weatiier:

[ax6l

rU send my Father's Serving-Men, to pull off yoiir Boots of Leather.

She laughed out-right, as well she might, with merry conceits of Scorning,

And left him there to sit all Night, until the approaching Morning.

The fourth Part of the baffled Knight,

the Lady hath fairly acted. She did his Love and Kindness slight,

which made him almost distracted.

She left him in her Father's Park, where nothing but Deer could hear him;

While he lay rouling in the dark, there's never a Soul came near him;

Until the Morning break of Day, and being warm Summer-weadier,

A Shepherd chanced to come that way, who pulled on his Boots of Leather.

Then mounting on his Milk-white Steed, he shaking his Ears was ready.

And whip and spur he rid with speed to find out this crafty Lady.

If once this Lady I come nigh she shall be released by no Man;

Why should so brave a Knight as I, be fooled by a silly Woman?

Three times she has affronted me, in Crimes which I cannot Pardon;

But if I'm not reveng'd, said he, let me not be worth a Farthing.

I value not her Beauty fair, tho' once I did dote upon her;

This trusty Sword shall now repair My baffled, blasted Honour.

Unto her Father's House he came, which every side was moated;

The fair sweet youthful charming Dame, his angry brows she noted.

[ai7]

Thonght she, IH have die other boot,

and tumble him in the River, And let the Devil help him oat,

or there he shall soak for ever.

He will not let me live at rest;

although I have often foiled him; Therefore, once more I do protest;

with flattering 111 beguile him;

The Bridge was drawn, the Gates locked fast,

so that he could no ways enter; She smiled to him, and cried at last. Knight; if you please to venture.

A Plank lies over the Moat hard by, fuU Seventeen Foot in Measure,

There's no body now at home but I, therefore well take our pleasure.

This Word she had no sooner spoke, but straight he was tripping over;

The Plank was sawed, and snapping broke; he prov'd an unhappy Lover.

THE GASCON PUNISHED (By Jean de la Fontaine. TaicB MMtd Novetg. 1746)

A GASCON (being heard one day to swear. That he'd jHMsess'd a certain lovely fair,) Was played a wily trick, and nicely served; 'Twas clear, from truth he shamefully had swenred. But those who scandal propagate below, Are prophets thought, and ev'ry action know; While good, if spoken, scarcely is believed. And must be viewed, or not for truth received.

The dame, indeed, the Gascon only And e'er denied herself when he appeared; But when she met the wight, who sought to shine. And called her angel, beauteous and divine. She fled and hastened to a female friend. Where she couM laugh, and at her ease unbend.

£«81

Near PfailHs^ (our fair fugithre) tfidr dwelled One Eurilas, his nearest neighbour held; His wife was Cloris; — ^'twas with her our dove Took shelter from the Gascon's forward love, Whose name was Dorilas;— and Damon yomig, (The Gascon's friend) on whom gay Cloris hung.

Sweet Phillis, by her manner, you might see, From sly amours and dark intrigues was free; The value to possess her no one knew, Though all admired the lovely belle at view. Just twenty yeats she counted at the time. And now a widow was, though in her prime, (Her spouse, an aged dotard, worth a plum>- Of those whose loss to mourn no tears e'er come.)

Our seraph fair, such loveliness possessed. In num'rous ways a Gascon could have Ueiised; Above, below, appeared angelic charms; 'Twas Paradise, 'twas Heav'n, within her armsl

The Gascon was— a Gascon;— would you more? Who knows one Gascon knows at least a score. I need not say what solemn vows he made; Alike with Normans Gascons are i>ortrayed; Their oaths, indeed, won't pass for Gospel truth; But we believe that Dorilas (the youth) Loved PhiUis to his soul, our lady fair, Yet he would fain be thought successful there.

One day, said Phillis, with unusual glee. Pretending with the Gascon to be free:— A favour do me: — ^nothing very great;— Assist to dupe one jealous of his mate; Youll find it very easy to be done. And doubtless 'twill produce a deal of fun. 'Tis our request (the plot you'll say is deep,) That you this night with Cloris's husband deep Some disagreement with her gay gallant Requires, that she a night at least should grant. To settle diff'rences; now we desire. That youll to bed with Eurilas retire. There's not a doubt hell think hb Cloris near; He never touches her>-«o nothing fear; For whether jealousy, or other pains. He constantly from intercourse abstains. Snores through the night, and if a cap he sees,

[szg]

BelievM his wife in bed, and feels at eaie. Well properly equip you aa a belle. And I will certainly reward you wdL

To gain but PUUia'a amilea, the Gascon said. He'd with the very devil go to bed

The night arrived, our wight the chamber traced; The lights extinguished, Burilas, too, placed: The Gascon 'gan to tremUe in a trice. And soon with terror grew as cold as ice; Durst neither spit nor cough; still less encroach; And seemed to shrink, least t'other should ai»proach; Crept near the edge; would scarcely room afford, And could have passed the scabbard of a sword.

Oft in die night his bed-fellow turned round; At length a finger on his nose he found. Which Dorilas exceedingly distressed; But more inquietude was in his breast. For fear the husband amorous should grow. From which incalculable ills might flow.

Our Gascon ev'ry minute knew alarm; "Twas now a leg stretched out, and then an arm; He even thought he felt the husband's beard; But presently arrived what more he feared.

A bell, conveniently, was near the bed. Which Burilas to ring was often led; At this the Gascon swooned, so great was his fear, And swore, forever he'd renounce his dear. But no one coming, Eurilas, once more. Resumed hb place, and 'gan again to snore;

At length, before the sun his head had reared. The door was opened, and a torch appeared. Misfortune then he fancied full in sight; More pleased he'd been to rise without a light. And dear^ thought, 'twas over with him now; The flame approached;— the drops ran o'er his brow; With terror he for pardon humbly prayed:— You have it, cried a fair: be not dismayed; "Twas Phillis spoke, who Eurilas's place Had filled, throughout the night, with wily grace. And now to Damon and his Cloris flew, With ridicule the Gascon to pursue; Recounted all the terrors and affright^

[aao]

Dorilas had fdt tfaronghoiit the night To mortify still more the silly swain. And fill his soul with ev'ry poignant pain, She gave a glimpse of beauties to his view. And from his presence instantly wididrew.

THE PROGRESS OF WIT (By Jean de la Fontaine. TmicM mad NovetB.)

DIVERTING m extreme there is a play. Which oft resumes its fascinating sway; Delights the seac, or ugly, fair, or sour; By night or day:— 'tis sweet at any hour. The frolick, ev'ry where is known to fame; Conjecture if you can, and tell its name.

This play's chief charm to husbands is unknown, 'Tis with the lover it excels alone; No lookers-on, as umpires, are required; No quarrels rise, though each appears inspired; All seem delighted with the pleasing game^— Conjecture if you can, and tell its name.

Be this as 'twill, and called whatever it may. No longer trifling with it I shall stay. But now disclose a method to transmit (As oft we find) to ninnies sense and wit. Till Alice got instruction in this school. She was regarded as a silly fool, Her exercise appeared to spin and sew:— Not hers indeed, the hands alone would go; For sense or wit had in it no concern; Whatever the foolish girl had got to learn. No part therein could ever take the mind; Her doll, for thought, was just as well designed The mother would, a hundred times a day, Abuse the stupid maid, and to her say:— Qo wretched lunip and try some wit to gain. The gkl, quite overcome with shame and pain. Her neighbours asked to point her out the spot. Where useful wit by purchase might be got The simple question laughter raised around; At length they told her, that it might be found

[aax]

With father Bonadventiire, who'd a stocky Which he at tunes disposed of to his flock.

Away hi haste she to the cloister went. To see the friar she was quite intent. Though trembling lest she might disturb his ease, And one of his high character displease; The girl exclaimed, as on she moved, — ^WiU he Such present willingly bestow on me. Whose age, as yet, has scarcelty readied fifteen? With such can I be worthy to be seen? Her innocence much added to her charms. The gentle wily god of soft alarms Had not a youthful maiden in his book. That carried more temptation in her look.

Most rev'rend sir, said she, by friends Fm told. That in this convent wit is often sold. Will you allow me some on trust to take? My treasure won't afford that much I stake; I can return if more I should require; Howe'er, you'll take this pledge I must desire; On which she tried to give the monk a ring, That to her finger firmly seemed to ding. But when the friar saw the girl's design. He cried, good maid, the pledge we will decHne, And what is wished, provide for you the same; 'TIS merchandise, and whatsoe'er its fame. To some 'tis fredy giv'n:-*to others taught: If not too dear, oft better when 'tis bought Come in and boldly follow where I lead; None round can see: you've nothing here to heed; Th^re all at prayers; the porter's at my will; The very walls, of prudence have their filL

She entered as the holy monk desired. And they together to his cell retired. The friar on the bed this maiden threw; A kiss would take:— she from him rather drew, And said: — ^To give one wit is this the way? Yes, answered he, and round her 'gan to play. Upon her bosom then he put his hand>- What now, said she, am I to understand? Is this the way?— *Said he, 'tis so decreed; Then patiently she let the monk proceed. Who followed up, from point to point, his aim. And wit, by easy steps, advancing came,

[ssa]

1

Till its progrestioti with her was complete; Then AUce laughed, success appeared so sweet

A second dose the friar soon bestowed. And e'en a third, so fast his bounty flowed. Well, said the monk, pray how d'ye find the play? The girl replied: wit will not long delay; 'Twill soon arrive; — ^but then I fear its flight: I'm half afraid 'twill leave me ere 'tis night Well see, rejoined the priest, that nought you lose; But other secrets oftentimes we use. Seek not those the smiling girl replied; With this most perfectly I'm satisfied; Then be it so, said he, we'll recommence. Nor longer keep the business in suspense. But to the utmost length at once advance; For this fair Alice showed much complaisance; The secret by the friar was renewed; Much pleasure in it Bonadventure viewed; The belle a courtesy dropt, and then retired. Reflecting on the wit she had acquired; Reflecting, do you say?— To think inclined? Yes, even more:— she sought excuse to find. Not doubting that she should be forced to say Some cause for keeping her so long away.

Two days had passed, when came a youthful friendi Fair Nancy with her often would unbend; Howe'er, so very thoughtful Alice seemed. That Nancy (who was penetrating deemed) Was well convinced whatever Alice sought So very absent she was not for nought In questioning she managed with such art, That soon she learned— what Alice could impart: To listen she was thoroughly disposed, While t'other ev'ry circumstance disclosed. From first to last, each i>oint and msrstick hit. And e'en the largeness of the friar's wit. The repetitions, and the wondrous skiU With which he managed ev'rything at will

But now, cried Alice, favour me I pray. And tell at once, without reserve, the way That you obtained such wit as you possess. And all particulars to me confess.

[as3]

If 1, Mid Nancy, most avow die tratfa. Your bounteous Alan was the bounteous youth. Who me obliged therewith, and freely taught What from the holy friar youM have bought My brother Alanl— Alan! Alice cried; He ne'er with any was himself su|»plied; I'm all surprise; he's thought a heavy dot. How could he give what he had never got?

Fool I said the other, little thou can'st know; For once, to me some information owe; In such a case much skill is not required. And Alan freely gave what I desired. If me thou disbeliev'st, thy mother ask; She thoroughly can undertake the task. On such a point we readily should say. Long live the fools who wit so well display I

MY COUSIN'S TALE : OR, A COCK AND BULL (By John Hall Stevenson. 1718-1785. Crmzy Tsieg)

IN Italy there is a town. Anciently of great renown. Called by the Volscians, Privemum; A fortress against the Romans; Maintained because it did concern them. Spite of Rome, and all her omens;

But to their cost. At the long run the town was lost

Whether 'twas forced, or did surrender. You never need, my dear sir, know.

Provided you wUl but remember, Privemum signified Pipemo.

Close by the Franciscan Friars, There'd lived a saint as all declare;

All the world cannot be liars. Which saint wrought mirades by prayer.

Her life, so holy was, and pure. Her prayers, at all times, they believe,

[aa4]

Could hein or heiresses secure* And make the barren womb concehre.

Which was a safe expedient.

And wonderfully convenient; For there was not a barren womb.

That might not try. Going between Naples and Rome

As she passes by.

My story will not be the worse*

If you'll reflect with patience, Upon the constant intercourse

Between the neighbor nations.

It is so great, that I dare say, The saint could have but little ease;

She must have been, both night and day. Continually tq;)on her knees.

For I can prove it very clear.

That many of these wombs are barren. Which wombs, were they transplanted here.

Would breed like rabbits in a warren.

Near Terradna, once called Anaxur, There is a place called Bosco Folto,

A castle standing on a bank, sir, The seat of the Marchese Stolto.

In history you all have read. Most of you have, I'm pretty sure.

How on that road there is no bed. Nor any inn you can endure.

For Stolto I had got a letter,

From my good friend. Prince Mala Fede; And from the Princess a much better.

Wrote to bis Excellency's Lady.

The Marquis is advanced in years And dries you so, there's no escaping.

The merriest when he appears. Yawn, and the vest a-gaping.

Seccare is a word of fun; It means to dry, as you may find,

[ss5]

Not like fht fire, or like the ran. But like a cold unpleaBant wind.

But she is perfectly well-bred. Neither too forward, nor too shy;

I neyer did, in any head. In all my life, see such an eye.

Nor such a head on any shoulders, Nor such a neck with such a swell. That would present itself so well.

To all the critical beholders.

Four years the Marquis was hum-drununing. In that same place with his bed-fellow.

Waiting for the happy coming Of a young Marquis, a Stoltello.

As soon as ever he arrives.

The family is to be sent to The Cardinal at Benevento,

For the remainder of tfieir lives.

The Cardinal is Stolto's nephew.

His age is only twenty-seven; And of that age there are but few.

Who think like him, of nought but heaven.

His atmt will manage and take care

Of all the Cardinal's a£Fau:s, Stoltello's to be his heir,

When he has finished all his prayers.

Stolto may live as he thinks good.

His life delightfully will run. Between his castle in tfie wood,

wife, his nephew, and his son.

And yet, according to fame's trun9>et. Who very seldom trumpets right.

His wife was reckoned a, great strumpet. His nephew a great hypocrite.

I don't believe a word of that; The world will talk, and let it chat:

You cannot think her in the wrong, To grow quite weary of the place.

[ss6]

She thought Stoltello stayed so long, He was ashamed to show his face.

Stolto had heard the Holy Maid Always cried up, both far and near,

And he believed she could persuade His son Stoltello to appear.

Considering what time was past. How they had tried, and better tried,

Stolto advised his wife at last. To go and be f ecundified.

The Marquis told me the whole story, Which he had from the Marchesina,

And it is so much to her glory 'Tis all the talk of Terracina.

The very night that she came back.

He was in such a difting cue. He almost put her to the rack,

'Till she discovered all she Imew.

First his acknowledgment being paid,

A pepper-comish kind of due. As they were laid, composed and staid.

She told him, just as I tell you.

Before the Marchioness sets out,

'Tis proper on reflection. To obviate a certain doubt.

That looks like an objection.

Here, because they know no better. The snarlers think thqr've found a bone;

They think the Marquis would not let her. Go such an errand alone.

A lady, you must understand. That visits, to fulfill her vo^rs,

A Holy house, or holy land. Commonly goes without her iq>ouse.

And so, by keeping herself still.

Quiet and sober in her bed. She never thinks of any iU^

Nothing unclean enters her head.

[m7]

You're satitfied your doabt was weak»

And now the Marchioneis may apealL As you foretold before I went;

The Saint was so engaged and watched. That a whole week and more was spent,

Before my business was dispatched.

"Indeed* you would have greatly pitied If you had seen me, but my dear;

How'e'er, at last I was admitted And what I met with you shall hear.

• ^he Saint and I sat on a bench:

Before us, on a couch, there lay

A pretty little naked wench. That minded nothing but her play.

Her play, was playing with a mouse. That popped its head in, went and came,

And nestled in its little house. It was so docible and tame.

• 'Quess where the mouse had found a bower?

You are so duU, it is a shame; You cannot guess in half an hour;

111 lay your hand upon the same.

rrhese," cried the Sahit, are ill indeed,

IHsions all, and nothing real. Yet they will animate your blood.

And rouse and warm the pregnant powers, Just like the lingering, sickly bud.

Opened by fructifying showers.

"If you are violently heated. Remember, in your greatest needs.

Your Ave Mary be repeated, 'Till you have gone through all your beads.

Take heed; they're going to begin; I see the visions coming in.

"First came a Cock, and then a Bull,

And then a heifer and a hen; 'Till they had got their beUies full,

On and off, and on again.

[aa8]

And then I spied a foolish filly. That was reduced to a strange pass.

Languishing, and looking siUy, At the proposals of an Ass.

• • 1 turned about and saw a sight.

Which was a sight I could not bear,

A filthy horse, with all his might; Gallanting with a filthy mare.

And lol there came a dozen priests;

And all the priests shaven and shorn; And they were like a dozen beasts, Naked as ever they were bom; And they passed on. One by one, Bv'ry one with an exalted horn.

"Then they drew iip and stood awhUe,

In rank and file. And after marched off the parade. One by one. Falling upon This miserable naked maid.

"Nothing could equal my surprise. To see her go through great and smalll

And after that, to see her rise. And turn the joke upon them alll

"And I kept praying still, and counting. In a prodigious fret and heat

And she successively kept mounting. And alwasrs kept a steady seat;

"Till having finished her career. The priests were terribly perplexed.

They could not tell which way to steer. Nor whereabouts to settle next

"Brother was running after brother. Turning their horns against each other:

The Holy Maid cried out aloud. Heaven deliver us from sin:

And I turned up my eyes, and bowed. And said Amen within:"

[sag]

And so at last, his cost and toil, The Marquu was obliged to own.

Were laid out on a grateful soil, At last he reaped as he had sown.

THE COURT OF EQUITY

(By Robert Burns; (c. 1796) from an autograph copy in

the British Museum)

YN Truth and Hottour^s name. — ^Amen.

• - Elnow all men by these presents plain.

The twelfth of May, at Mauchline given, The year 'tween eighty-five and seven; We, old practitioners by profession. As per extracts frae Books o' Session, In way and manner here narrated. All cott amore congregated. Are by our brethren constituted A Court of Equity; deputed, With special authorised direction To take within our strict protection The open stay-laced quoudam maiden. With growing life, and anguish laden. Who by the miscreant is denied That led her thoughtless steps aside. He who disowns the ruin'd fair one And for her wants and woes doth care none; The wretch who can deny subsistence To life he raked into existence; The coof wha stands on cllshmaclaver. When lasses halflins offer favour; The sneak wha, at a lasses by-job Defrauds her wi' a frig or dry-bob; The knave who takes a private stroke Beneath his sanctimonious cloak- In short, all who in any manner. Shall stain the Fornicator's Honour, — To take cognizance there anent. We are the judges competent.

First,— poet BURNS he takes the chair, Allowed by all, his title's clear; He shows a duplicate pretension To pass aem, con — without dissension.

[230]

Next, merchant Smiib, our trusty fiscal. To c(»w each pertinacious rascal; In this his very foes admit His merit is conspicuous great

Rlchmoadf the third, our worthy clerk. Our minutes he will duly mark; A fit dispenser o' the law. In absence o' the other twa.

And fourth, our messenger at arms. When failing a' the milder terms. Hunter^ a willing, hearty farither, Wed slriUed in dead and living leather.

Without preamble less or more said,

We-body politic aforesaiit—

Shall now, wi' due 'Vhereas and 'Vheref ore,**

DiH>atch the business we came here for.

And punish contravening truants,

At instance of our constituents;

And thus, by proper regulation.

Well purge the lists of fomicatioa

Our fiscal here, by his petition

Informs us there is strong suspicion

That coachman Dow^ and docky Browa~^

Baith residenters in this town,—

In other words, you, Jock and Sandy ^

Hae been at warks o' Hougbmagandie;

And now when facts are brought to light.

Those facts ye baith deny outright

First, docky Brown, there's witness borne.

And affidavit made and sworn

Last Mauchline February Fair

That Jeanie's masts ye laid them bare;

For ye had furled up her sails

And was at play o' heads and tails

And that ye wroucht a hurly-burly

In Jeanie Mitchell's turly-wurly:

That ye her pend'liun tried to alter And graizled at her regulator: And further still, ye crud vandal I— A tale might e'en in hell be scandal— That ye hae made repeated trials Wi' dregs and droggs in doctor's vials as ye thought in fell infusion, [a3z]

Your ain-begotten wean to poison; And yet ye are sae scant o' grace As daur to lift your brazen face And offer there to give your aith Ye never lifted Jeanie's daitfa.

Next, Smady Dow, ye are indictt As publicly ye hae been wyted— For aft cUmdestinely up-whirlin' The petticoats of Maggy's Borlan; And gien her cannister a rattle That months hereafter winna settle, And yet, ye loon, ye still protest. Ye never berried Maggy's nest; Tho' if s weel-kenn'd that at her gyvel Ye've done what Time will soon unravel

Then, Brown and Dow, above designed For dags and claims hereto subjoined The Court aforesaid dte and summon That on the fourth of June just comin', The hour of cause, in our court-ha' At Whitefoord Araos, ye'U answer a'; Exculpate proof ye needna bring For we're resolved about the thing,— Yet, as rductantly we punish. And rather would with seal admonish. We, for that ancient secret sake You have the honour to partake, And for that noble badge you wear,— * You, Sandy Dow, our brother dear. We give you, as a man and mason. This serious, sober, friendly lesson: Your crime, a manly deed we trow it^ As man alone can rightly do it. And he's nae man that won't avow^t

Therefore, confess, and join our core And keep reproach outside the door. The best o' men hae been surprised. The doucest women been advised. The deverest lads hae had a trick o't. The boniest lasses ta'en a lick o't; Kings hae been proud our name to own— The brightest jewd in their crown; The rhyming sons o' bleak Parnassus, Were ay red-wud about the lasses. And soul and body, all would venture,

[939]

Rejoicing in our list to enter;

E'en (wha wad troVt?) — ^the cleric order

Aft glyly break the hallow'd border,

And show-in f^^rtain I *"*** *^^ place— They are as scant a' boasted grace. As ony o' the human race. So, Brother Dow, be not ashamed In sic a quorum to be named. But lift a dauntless brow upon it. And say, I am the man has done it,^ I, Sandy Dow, gat Meg wi' bairn. An' fit to do as much again I"

For yon, John Brown, sae black your £aut is,

Sae double-dyed, we gie you notice.

Without ye, by a quick repentance,

Acknowledge Jean's and your acquaintance

Remember this shall be your sentence:—

Our beagles to the Cross shall tak ye

And there shall mither-naked mak ye;

Around the rump a rope they'll tack.

And tye your hands ahint your back,

Wi' jist an ell of string allow'd

To jink and hide ye frae the crowd;

There shall ye stand a lawful seizure,

Induring Jeanie Mitchell's pleasure.

So be her pleasure don't surpass

Five turnings o' a hauf-hour glass;

Nor shall it in her pleasure be

To turn you loose in less than three.

This our futurum esse decreet.

We mean not to be kept a secret.

But in our Summons here insert it

And whoso dare— let him subvert it I

Thus, marked above, the date and place is,

Slgillum est, per Burns the presis;

This Summons, wi' the Signet mark,

Bxtr actum est, per Richmond clerk;

At Mauchline, idem date of May

'Tween four and five, decline of day

You twa, in propria peraoaae,

Before designed, Sandy and Johnie,

This Summons, legally you've got it.

As vide witness under-noted.

Within the house of John Dow, vintner.

Nunc facia hoc QULLIELMUS HUNTSR.

[933]

DON JUAN

(By Lord Byron. From Don Jtua: Canto I. 1819)

CIV

9np WAS on the sixth of June, about the hour ^ Of half-past six— perhaps still nearer seven—

When Julia sate within as pretty a bower As e'er held houri in that heathenish heaven

Described by Mahomet, and Anacreon Moore, To whom the Ijnre and laurels have been given.

With all the trophies of triumphant song —

He won them well, and may he wear them long!

CV

She sate, but not alone; I know not well How this same interview had taken place.

And even if I knew, I shall not tell-~ People should hold their tongues in any case;

No matter how or why the thing befell, But there were she and Juan, face to face-*

When two such faces are so, 't would be wise.

But very difficult, to shut their eyes.

CVI

How beautiful she looked! her conscious heart Glowed in her cheek, and yet she felt no wrong:

Oh Love! how perfect is thy mjrstic art. Strengthening the weak, and trampling on the strong!

How self-deceitful is the sagest part Of mortals whom thy lure hath led along!—

The precipice she stood on was immense,

So was her creed in her own innocence.

CVII

She thought of her own strength and Juan's youth.

And of the foUy of all prudish fears. Victorious Virtue, and domestic Truth,

And then of Don Alfonso's fifty years: I wish these last had not occurred, in sooth.

Because that number rarely much endears. And through all climes, the snowy and the sunny. Sounds ill in love, whate'er it may in mon^.

• « « « « # Hf

[334]

CXI

The band which still held Juan's, by degrees

Gently, but palpably confirmed its grasp. As if it said, "Detain me, if you please;"

Yet there's no doubt she only meant to clasp His fingers with a pure Platonic squeeze;

She would have shrunk as from a toad, or asp. Had she imagined such a thing could arouse A feeling dangerous to a prudent spouse.

CXII

I cannot know what Juan thought of this. But what he did, is much what you would do;

His young lip thanked it with a grateful kiss, And then, abashed at its own joy, withdrew

In deep despair, lest he had done amiss,^- Love is so very timid when 't is new:

She blushed, and frowned not, but she strove to speak.

And held her tongue, her voice was grown so weak.

CXV

And Julia sate with Juan, half embraced And half retiring from the glowing arm.

Which trembled like the bosom where 't was placed; Yet still she must have thought there was no harm.

Or else 't were easy to withdraw her waist; But then the situation had its charm.

And then — God knows what next — I can't go on;

I'm almost sorry that I e'er begun.

CXXXVI

• T was midnight — Donna Julia was in bed.

Sleeping, most probably, — ^when at her door

Arose a clatter might awake the dead. If they had never been awoke before.

And that they have been so we all have read. And are to be so, at the least, once more;—

The door was fastened, but with voice and fist

First knocks were heard, then ]

[935]

CXXXVII

"For God's sake. Madam— Madam— here's my master,

With more than half the city at his back- Was ever heard of such a curst disaster!

'T Is not my fault— I k^t good watch— Alack! Do pray undo the bolt a little faster—

ThQr're on the stair just now, and in a crack Will all be here; perhaps he yet may fly*- Surely the window's not so very high!"

I can't tell how, or why, or what suspicion

Could enter hito Don Alfonso's head; But for a cavalier of his condition

It surely was ill-bred, Witiiout a word of previous admonition.

To hold a levee round his lady's bed. And summon lackesni, armed with fire and sword,

To prove himself the thing he most abhorred.

CXL

Poor Donna Julia! starting as from sleep, (Mind— that I do not say— she had not slept),

BegaA at once to scream, and yawn, and weep; Her maid, Antonia, who was an adept.

Contrived to fling the bed-clothes in a heap. As if she had just now from out them crept:

I can't tell why she should take all this trouble

To prove her mistress had been sleeping double.

Now Julia found at length a voice, and cried, ^In Heaven's name, Don Alfonso, what d' ye mean?

Has madness seized you? would that I had died Ere such a monster's victim I had been!

What may this midnight violence betide. A sudden fit of drunkenness or spleen?

Dare you suspect me, whom the thought would kill?

Search, then, the room!" — ^Alfonso said, "I will."

Under the bed they searched, and there they foimd-* No matter what — it was not what they sought;

They opened windows, gazing if the ground Had signs of footmarks, but the earth said nought;

[236]

And then they stared each others' faces round:

'T is odd, not one of all these seekers thought, And seems to me almost a sort of blunder, Of looking in the bed as well as under.

CXLV

During this inquisition Julia's tongue

Was not asleep— "Yes, search and search," she cried, ^Insult on insult heap, and wrong on wrong!

It was for this that I became a bride! For this in silence I have suffered long

A husband like Alfonso at my side; But now 111 bear no more, nor here remain. If there be law or lawyers in all Spain.

^There is the closet, there the toilet, there The antechamber— -search them under, over;

There is the sofa, there the great arm-chair. The chimney— which would really hold a lover.

I wish to sleep, and beg you will take care And make no further noise, till you discover

The secret cavern of this lurking treasure—

And when 't is found, let me, too, have that pleasure.

CLIV

^And now, Hidalgo! now that you have thrown

Doubt upon me, confusion over all. Pray have the courtesy to make it known

Who is the man you search for? how d' ye call Him? what 's his lineage? let him but be showxH-

I hope he's young and handsome— is he tall? Tell me— and be assured, that since you stain My honour thus, it shall not be in vain.

She ceased, and turned upon her pillow; pale She lay, her dark eyes flashing through their tears.

Like sides that rain and lighten; as a veil. Waved and o'er shading her wan cheek, appears

Her streaming hair; the black curls strive, but fail To hide the glossy shoulder, which uprears

Its snow through all;- her soft lips lie apart.

And louder than her breathing beats her heart

[937]

But Don Alfonso stood with downcast looks, Andy truth to say, he made a foolish figure;

When, after searching in five hundred nooks. And treating a young wife with so much rigour.

He gained no point, except some self-rebukes. Added to those his lady with such vigour

Had poured upon him for the last half-hour.

Quick, thick, and heavy^-as a thunder-shower.

  » « « ^ 

He stood in act to speak, or rather stammer, But sage Antonia cut him short before

The anvil of his speech received the hammer. With Pray, sir, leave the room, and say no more.

Or madam dies.— Alfonso muttered, D— a her,** But nothing else, the time of words was o'er;

He cast a rueful look or two^ and did.

He knew not wherefore, that which he was bid.

With him retired his '^posse comitatuB^* The attorney last, who lingered near the door

Reluctantly, still tarrying there as late as Antonia let him— not a little sore

At this most strange and unexplained '*hlatas^ In Don Alfonso's facts, which just now wore

An awkward look; as he resolved the case.

The door was fastened in his legal face.

CLXV

No sooner was it bolted, than — Oh Shame!

Oh SinI Oh Sorrowl and Oh Womanldndl How can you do such things and keep your fame.

Unless this world, and f other too, be blind? Nothing so dear as an unfilched good name!

But to proceed— for there is more behind: With much heartfelt reluctance be it said. Young Juan slipped, half-smothered, from the bed.

CLXVI

He had been hi<^I don't pretend to say How, nor can I indeed describe the wher»—

Young, slender, and packed easily, he lay. No doubt, in little con^ass, round or square;

But pity him I neither must nor may His suffocation by that pretty pair;

[338]

'T were better, sure, to die to, than be shut With maudlin Clarence in his Malmsey butt.

CLXVII

And, secondly, I pity not, because He had no business to commit a sin.

Forbid by heavenly, fined by human laws;— At least 't was rather early to begin.

But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So^ much as when we call our old debts in

At sixty years, and draw the accompts of evU,

And find a deuced balance with the DeviL

CLXVIII

Of his position I can give no notion: 'T is written in the Hebrew Chronicle,

How the physicians, leaving pill and potion. Prescribed, by way of blister, a young bdle.

When old King David's blood grew dull in motion. And that the medicine answered very well;

Perhaps 't was in a different way applied.

For David lived, but Juan nearly died.

He turned his lip to hers, and with his hand Called back the tangles of her wandering hair;

Even their love they could not all command. And half forgot their danger and despair:

Antonia's patience now was at a stand— Come, come, 't is no time now for fooling there,"

She whispered, in great wrath— "I must deposit

This pretty gentleman within the closet:

CLXXI

"Pray, keep your nonsense for some luckier night— Who can have put my master in this mood?

What will become on 't-^Fm in such a fright. The Devil's in the urchin, and no good~-

Is this a time for giggling? this a plight? Why don't you know that it may end in blood?

Youll lose your life, and I shall lose my place,

My mistress all, for that half-girlish face.

[339]

CLXxn

Had it but been for a atout cavalier Of twenty-five or thirty — (come, make baste)

But for a child, what piece of work is here I I really, madam, wonder at your taste—

(Come, sir, get in)— my master must be near: There, for the present, at the least, he's fast^

And if we can but till tiie morning keep

Our counsel — Guan, mind, you must not sleep r)

HAIDEE AND DON JUAN (By Lord Byron. From Doa Jtun: Canto 11. 1819)

TT was the cooling hour, just when the rounded -*> Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill, Which then seems as if the whole earth it bounded.

Circling all Nature, hushed, and dim, and still. With the far mountiJn-crescent half surrounded

On one side, and the deep sea calm and chiU Upon the other, and the rosy sky With one star sparkling through it like an eye.

CLXXXIV

And thus they wandered forth, and hand in hand.

Over the shining pebbles and the shells. Glided along the smooth and hardened sand.

And in the worn and wild receptacles Worked by the storms, yet worked as it were planned—

In hollow halls, with sparry roofs and ceOs, They turned to rest; and, each clasped by an arm. Yielded to the deep Twilight's purple charm. ^

CLXXXV

They looked up to the sky, whose floating glow Spread like a rosy Ocean, vast and bright;

They gazed upon the glittering sea below. Whence the broad Moon rose circling into sight;

They heard the waves' splash, and the wind so low. And saw each other's dark eyes darting light

Into each other— and, beholding this.

Their lips drew near, and clung into a kiss;

[240]

CLXXXVI

A long, long kiss, a kiss of Youth, and Love,

And Beauty, all concentrating like ray«  Into one focus, kindled from above;

Such kisses as belong to early days. Where Heart, and Soul, and Sense, in concert move,

And the blood's lava, and the pulse a blaze. Each kiss a heart-quake, — for a kiss's strength, I think, it must be reckoned by its length.

CLXXXVn

By length I mean duration; theirs endured

Heaven knows how long— no doubt th^ never reckoned; And if they had, th^ could not have secured

The sum of their sensations to a second:

•

They* had not spoken, but they felt aUured,

As if their souls and lips each other beckoned, VHiich, being joined, like swarming bees they clung*- Their hearts the flowers from whence the hon^ sprung.

CLXXXVin

They were alone, but not alone as they

Who shut in chambers think it loneliness; The silent Ocean, and the starlight bay.

The twilight glow, which momently grew less. The voiceless sands, and dropping caves, that lay

Around them, made them to each other press. As if there were no life beneath the sky Save thcto, and that their life could never die.

CLXXXIX

They feared no eyes nor ears on that lone beach;

They felt no terrors from the night; they were All in all to each other: though their speech

Was broken words, they thought a language there,*- And all the burning tongues the Passions teach

Found in one sigh the best interpreter Of Nature's oracle— first love,— that all Which Eve has left her daughters since her falL

cxc

Haidee spoke not of scruples, asked no vows, Nor offered any; she had never heard

Of pliclit mnd promises to be a spouiey

Or perils by a loving maid incurred; She was all which pure ignorance allows.

And flew to her young mate like a young bird; And, never having dreamt of falsehood, she Had not one word to say of constanQr.

CXCI

She loved, and was beloved— ndie adored. And she was worshipped after Nature's fashion—

Their intense souls, into each other poured. If souls could die, had perished in that passion,—

But by d^^rees their senses were restored, Agahi to be o'ercome, again to dash on;

And, beating 'gainst bis bosom, Haidee's heart

Fdt as if never more to beat apart

CXCII

Alas! they were so young, so beautiful. So lonely, loving, helpless, and the hour

Was that in which the Heart is always full. And, having o'er itself no further power,

Pronq>ts deeds Eternity can not annul. But pays off moments in an endless shower

Of hdl-fire— all prepared for people giving

Pleasure or pain to one another living.

CXCIII

Alas! for Juan and Haidee! they were So loving and so lovely— till then never.

Excepting our first parents, such a pair Had run the risk of being damned for ever:

And Haidee, being devout as well as fair. Had, doubtless, heard about the Stygian river.

And Hell and Purgatory— -but forgot

Just in the very crisis she should not

CXCIV

They look iq;K>n each other, and their eyes deam in the moonlight; and her white arm clasps

Round Juan's head, and his around her lies Half buried in the tresses which it grasps;

She sits upon his knee, and drinks his sighs. He hers, until they snd in broken gasps;

[242]

And thus they form a group that's quite antique^ Half naked, loving, natural, and Greek.

cxcv

And when those deep and bunung moments passed. And Juan sunk to sleep within her arms.

She slept not, but all tenderly, though fast. Sustained his head upon her bosom's charms;

And now and then her eye to Heaven is cast. And then on the pale cheek her breast now warms.

Pillowed on her o'erflowing heart, which pants

With all it granted, and with all it grants.

LEON TO ANNABELLA

5e non e vera, e ben trovato, (Attributed to Lord Byron, Circ 1865)

fj^ROM proud Venetia's desolated strand

• ^ Peruse these traces of a husband's hand;

Or, if that honoured word offends thy ear. Read for the sake of him who once was dear. An exile in a foreign clime I roam. Expelled thy bed, and driven from my home. Be this enough to satisfy thy hate. If not enough my crime to expiate.

My crime I— What was it? — Publish it aloud— Why thus in mystery thy dudgeon shroud? Utter thy wrongs; or mine, if just, redress; Lady, be bold, and prove my wickedness; Nor let malicious calumny proclaim. With foulest tongue, dishonour on my name.

Thou know'st, when first I wooed thy maiden vow^ A poet's laurels decked my youthful brow; And, thou descended from a noble race. Whose Uazon'd scutcheons might their issue grace, My pride was not by them alone to shine; The lustre borrowed I repaid with mine. Thou know'st, how many matrons spread their wOes, How many daughters lavished all their smiles 1 An these I scorned— that scorn by thee returned. Whilst others burned for me, for thee I burned,

[343]

TiU, won at last, I to the altar led Thy faltering stfpe: the priest his rubric said. Thy promised troth to honour and obey Was faintly pledged, and pledged but to betray.

How rash the mariner would seem to be» Who launches forth his vessel on the sea Without a compass, with no lead to sound; No marks to show the harbour where he's bound: Unknown what shoab He hid, what winds assail. What fogs mephitic on the coast prevaiL So thoughtless man, who sets his mast afloat To seek the haven of a petticoat. Upon an inauspicious strand may run, And mourn his folly e'er his course is done. Nay, e'en the morrow's dawn may see him rise. In vain regretting his rash enterprise.

Oh! woman, oft the homage you inspire Is not on you bestowed, but your attire. For who can say if what delights our eyes Is nature's self, or nature in disguise? The pallid cheek and bloodless lip we see. But all the rest is clothed in mystery. In airy dreams imagination strajrs; Counts every charm, and, daring, seems to raise The jealous robe that hides your snowy limbs. Till, drunk with thought, the brain in pleasiure swims. Vain hopes I which cruel disappointments pay. That tissue covers only mortal clay. When marriage comes the gaudy vestments fall. And all our joys may prove apocryphaL For when the Abigail's officious hand Has loosened here a string, and there a band; When, slipping to the tag, the bursting lace Has given you breath; and, rumbling to their place, The joyous entrails set your flanks at ease; When nothing veils you but a thin chemise; The bridegroom's happy, who, between the sheets, Witiiout alloy the prondsed banquet meets. What lot was mine— and, on my wedding night. What viands waited for my appetite-* I will not say: but e'en the best repast. Repeated often, surfeits us at last. The surfeit came: to this my crime amounts, I fain would slake my thirst from other founts. But, not like those, who, with adulf rous steps. Seek courtesans and hackneyed demireps, I left thee not beneath a widow'd quilt^ To take another partner of my guilt.

[344]

Thy charms were still my refuge— only this,

I hoped to find variety in bliss.

Thou know'st, when married, from the church we came,

Heedless I called thee by thy maiden name.

Unmeaning words t— yet some malignant fiend.

Who under friendship's garb the poison screened.

Could draw an omen from a verbal slip.

And drug the nuptial chalice at thy lip:

Could bid thee mark that man with evil eye.

Whose thoughts still lingered on celibacy.

Believe it not:— the scene my mind confused.

Of coming joys, and not on past I mused.

I saw the ring upon thy finger shine;

If that could make a wiEe, I saw thee mine.

The surplice man his mockery had done.

And Mother Church of two had made us one.

Attesting hands had inked the feathered qufll.

And yet there seemed a something wanting still;

And yet, I know not why, my tongue denied

To call thee dame, although thou wast my bride.

For still thy virgin look and maiden guise

Were seemings stronger than realities;

Which said, Beside thee hangs a lovely flower,

Pluck it, 'tis thine: thou only hast the power."

But nature whispered, till that hour arrived.

Though fools might tell me so, I was not wived.

And Cynthia's lamp had lit the firmament;

But when lone night had spread her sable tent. When the flushed bride-maid had her office done, And ingress to the bridal bow'r was won; When on thy naked neck a fervent kiss Announced the prelude of impending bliss; When, half resisting, yielding half, I pressed Thy trembling form; when — but thou know'st the rest. Then, and then only, would my heart avow. This is the wedding — ^thou art madam now: And glibly to my lips the accents came At next day's dawn, How fares it with thee, dame?"

The happy moments in thy arms enjoyed. Whilst love was new, nor yet possession cloyed. Our joys, when virgin diffidence was o'er, I pass in silence: moments now no more. For oft a bride from modesty restrains The latent heat that bubbles in her veins. From coyness checks the impulse that she feels. And on the sense by slow caresses steals. Thus passed the fleeting hours, and still had passed. But fate resolved our nuptial joys to Uast

[^45]

One day a boon thou aeemedst to require.

^Leon» I go to see my honoured sire:

"My mother, too— 'tis long aince we have met;

"And, loving thee, I must not them forget

"Speed thee,** I cried, "and brief, dame, make thy stay

"Dreary's the huaband's couch whose wife's away.

"Nor let thy filial piety preclude

"Some lines each day to cheer my solitude.**

When thy much-longed for tablets came.

To tell thy Leon thou wert still the same.

Another letter followed dose the first

With eager hand the waxen seal I burst:

But could I read, and credit what I read:

"Leon, in future think of me as dead.

"Take back the ring which late my finger wore;

"For, though thy wife, thou ne'er wilt see me more."

Aghast I stood, in motionless surprise. And whence, thought I, can such a change arise? At first I hoped there might some error be: But no I the hand was thine, and sent to me. Not more amax'd, while feasting in his hall, Belshaxzar saw tiie writing on the wall: Not e'en the felon looks with deeper gloom Upon the warrant which decides his doom. In vain I passed my actions in review: My faults were many, but they were not new. The harlof s smile, the wassail's merriment. With boon companions all my substance spent; All tills waa known before thou wast my bride; Methought for this 'twas now too late to chide. Thua mused I long: *till, with conjecture tired. Alone and sad I to my couch retired. The night was cold, the wind tempestuous blew: My curtain round me mournfully I drew. And wert thou there (thua to myself I said) My breast should be a pillow for thy head, Lock'd in my arms the storm might rage its fill: 'Twould only make me clasp thee closer still. Then, as I lay, my memory portrayed A picture of thy charms; and Love, in aid. Called up the tender pastimes of the night. When shame was lulled, and tranaport at its height Yes, truth to tell (I cried) thy form was fair; Thy skin was alabaster, and thy hair Fell in profusion down thy taper waist And oh I what undulating beauties graced Those loins whose fall had mocked the sculptor's hand. And gained thee worship in a Cnidian land.

[346]

Whilst these reflections in my brains f erment. Sudden their course assumed another bent What! if by thoughtiess indiscretion kd. Thou couldst betray the secrets of our bed? I know thy unsuspecting soul too well— Ally all thou would'st, interrogated telL

Oh, lovely woman! by your Maker's hand For man's delight and solace wisely planned. Thankless is she who nature's bounty mocks. Nor gives Love entrance whereso'er he knocks. The breechless vagrant has no settled spot. Now seeks the brook, now nestles in the grot Where pleasure offers nectar to the lip. Anon he steals the honied draught to sip. Shall priest-bom prejudice the hon^d draught deny And send away the thirsty votary?

Matrons of Rome, held ye yourselves disgraced In sdelding to your husband's wayward taste? Ah, no I— By tender conq>laisance ye reign'd: No wife of wounded modesty complained. Though Qracchus sometimes his libations poured In love's unhallowed vase; yet, still adored By sage Cornelia, 'twas her pride to be His paradise, with no forbidden tree. The blooming damsel, on the wed<Ung night. Conducted to the hymenaeal fight. Would pray her lord to spare a virgin's fear. And take his restive courser to the rear- Put off the venue to another place. And dread the trial more than the disgrace. But now no couple can in safety lie; Between the sheets salacious lawyers pry. Yet naturiB varies not:— desires we feel. As Romans felt; but woe if we reveaJ, For what were errors then, our happy times ynth sainted zeal have registered as crimes.

Lady, inscribed in characters of gold This adage— '^ruth not alwajrs must be told." Virtues and vices have no certain dye. But take the colour of society. The ore which bears the impress of the crown. Is passed as standard mon^ through the town; But what we fashion into private plate. We keep at home and never circulate.

[a47l

YOU REMEMBER THE NUTS (An Irish Broadside. 1870)

TN Belfast lived a merchant; a wealthy merchant man* '- He had as fine apprentice boy as e'er the son shone on. He was proper, tall» and handsome, and everything was right. He could lie with a pretty girl and kiss her twelve times a night

The mistress she being standing by, and heard him saying so^ Said, Jack, I hold a wager that yon do not perform it so, The master he being from home that night and all things rifl^t. He slipped into the mistress's chamber and kissed her twdve times that night.

One of them was a drow^ one, there was no virtue in. Which made the mistress for to say you did not the wager win. If I did not win the wager as yon suppose you like, I will leave it to my master when he comes home this night.

When the master he came home that night and at his siq>-

per sat Said Jack unto his master, I wish you'd know a bet. As your mistress and I was walking down yonder green wood

side, And I on your own mare's back a cluster of nuts I spied.

She said there was a dozen, I said there was but eleven, I threw them in her apron, and there was five and seven. Five and seven is a dozen I heard the people say. So Jack you won the wager if the mistress does you pay.

The mistress she being standing by and heard him saying so. She gave him down the wager and was glad to get off so. When the master is from home she's sure to stuff his guts. She tips him on the shoulder, saying, yon recollect the nuts.

THE NAUGHTY LORD AND THE GAY YOUNG

LADY

(From Cariosities of Street Literatare* 1S71)

THERE is a pretty piece of work; It is up m high life. Upon n^ word an amorous lord.

Seduced another man*» wife; She was a lady of titie,

She was charming, young, and fair. With her daddy and her mammy once

She lived in Belgrave Square.

The trial now is over.

And his lordshq;>, with a frown. For kissing Lady Nelly

Has to pay ten thousand pounds.

Lord G was a naughty lord.

Oh I how could he engage. To seduce young Lady Ellen,—

He is sixty years of age. The verdict ci the jury

Made his lordship quake and jump. Ten thousand pounds he has to pay.

For plajring tiddly bump.

Lady Nelly left her husband. And would with his lordship be.

She would trim his lordship's whiskers As she sat upon his knee.

Some said oh, lack-Sp-daisy,

She was in a comical way I His lordship was bald-pated.

And his hair and whiskers grey.

My lord was very fond of lamb,—-

The cook said so at least; And neighbours you must understand

He liked the belly piece. His lordship loved the lady.

And the lady she loved he. His lordship played by music.

The tune called fiddle-de«dee.

His lordship when he heard the news.

Caused his ^es to flash like fire then He looked around, ten thousand pounds

His lordship holloaed, ^wire-em.** He sold his hat, he pawned his coat.

To pay the browns, we find, And then he run round Hyde Park square.

With his shirt hanging out behind.

[349]

Sweet Ellen was a daughter

Of my Lord and Lady And once lived in a inangion.

Yes she did in Bdgrave Square, Sweet EUen had an husband.

An honest Yq;)right num. And his lordship went a trespassing

Upon her husband's land.

My lord was fond of sporting.

And hunting of the hare, He has to pay ten thousand pounds.

The damage to repair; His lordship played the fiddle,

Down in Scotia's land, 'tis said. And his lordship must have fiddled well

Both in and out of bed.

Now all young lords take warning.

When a hunting you do go. In the evening of the morning

Pray beware of "Tally-hol" If you are caught a trespassing

On other people's ground. Perhaps you'll be like old Lord G

Made to pay ten thousand poimds.

The ladsr's injured husband.

Has nobly gained the day; And beat old Mr. December,

Who seduced young Lady May.

JULIA'S CLOTHES

(By Richard Le Qallienne. Bagliab Poems* 189a)

AH, when at night my lady sweet Loosens the honeyed linen from her thigh. Girdle and smock and all the warm things lie Fall'n in a snowdrift round her feet; Or like the foam that kissed the toes

Of Venus, naOed with pearl. When from the sea she rose. The wondrous golden girL

[aso]

Then, bending low, I take the sweet cloud up,

Stained through with aweets from arm and breast and thigh.

And, like a greedy gloating butterfly. Upon the hoarded fragrance sup and sup.

Yea, as I feast upon my lady's clothes,

I dream I am a bee, and they a rose.

THE HOUSEMAID

(By Richard Le Qallienne. BnglUb Poems* 189a)

pOOR pulses ready still to beat ^ At any sound of Love's light feet. Poor hungry heart too young to learn Youth is no more, poor eyes that bum Still on the women in the street

print-dad damsel, fresh and fair. Bending above the threshold there On supple knees and swaying line.

And honied curve— dear maid, be mine. For O, I know about thy neck Hide silver globes without a fleck. About thy soft and odorous waist

1 know what other jojrs are placed.

And those strong limbs that make a lap As soft as down,— ^ah blessed hap To lie therein; tiiese round arms bare. How strong^ would you draw me there.

O how you make my blood a song* And how this foolish heart will long. And even brain will have its dream— Ah there, far up the street a gleam Turns like a wing, it is her hand. She kisses it— we understand.

ADULTERY— AD ABSURDUM (By Richard Le Qallienne. Bnglisb PoemB* 189a)

T SAW a Httle burnished fly -^ Within my Mistress' bodice lie. Sipping lovely stolen sweets From her ample rosy teats.

[351]

1

I I

1

'Small adulterer/ aaid I,

'Doet thou know where thou dost lie?

• 'Tit my lady's bosom fine,

'And thou dost sip wliat is not thine.'

BORNE ON THE BLUE AEGEAN (Anonymous, About 1900)

OLOWN, all alone, o'er the watery miles;

'^ Lost, I was tossed on those grape-laden isles.

Where, passing fair in her dimpling smiles,

Played a sweet maid in the waters so bright;

Chilled, yet I thrilled at the ravishing sight;

Sped to her, fled to her, wild with delight

Soft, from aloft, sweet Cytherea sings; Dove-drawn, the love goddess artfully flings Spells, as she tells of the rapture she brings.

Clear, to my ear, comes her whispering low- Lure the demure, as she rocks to and ho. Wicked her liquid and musical flow.

Mark the soft, dark eyes tiiat languish for you;

Sleeps in their deeps a rich violet hue;

Skies from her eyes catch their heavenly blue.

Down from her crown, tresses, fold upon fold. Curled and impearled with their jewels untold. Fall and enthrall with their glittering gold.

Coy, my dear boy, is a maid in repose;

Wile, with a smile, and her low laughter flows;

Speak and her cheek all incarnadine grows.

Seek in that cheek for the dimples that hide Quite from the sight; then a moment descried. Fly f fxun your ^e, haH confessed, half denied.

Spring to her, cling to her, pearl of the sea; Flushing and blushing, she beckons to thee; Chase her, embrace her, the gift is from me.

Lave in the wave, with its foam-crested curl;

Toy, dearest boy, with an ocean-bom girl;

Sip from her lip, decked with coral and pearL

Press her, caress her; that billowy breast Swells, and foretells in a sigh half siQ»pressed,

[asa]

BHsf in the kiss which you mntely request

Gloat, as you float with her; banish alarms; Wound in the round of her iMissionate arms. Praise, as you gaze on her ravishing charms.

Reel -with her, fed where the gossamer lace

Robes the white globes scarcely more than the place

Where the soft hair curls in exquisite grace.

Play with her, sway with her, loosen her zone; Dare to lay bare her full bosom; your own Warms for her, storms for her— she is alone.

White, on the height of her velvety breast, Billow-like pillows, where Cupid might rest» Heave, to receive your warm lips to them pressed. Crowned is each mound by a rich scarlet stud; Lips to their tips, taste each roseate bud. Dyed by the tide of her heart's richest blood.

Down with her, drown her sweet, murmuring cries; Steal low and feel, near her plump rounded thighs. Moss fine as flbss, half concealing the prize Left like the cleft in the peach's ripe side. Pink as the brink of a sea shell is dyed- Out, see it pout, as its 1^ open wide.

Holds, in its folds, the small ditoral bud; Thrills as it fills with her riotous blood; Peeps from the deeps like a bright ruby stud.

Clip with the tongue tip the small sensitive flower;

Grip with the lip as it slips from its bower;

Turn, fed it bum with her passion's full power.

Prone, with a moan of e^ectant delight. Lies the sweet prize, too enraptured for fright; Warm glows her form, there upheaved in your sight.

Swing forth the lingam, in passionate sweep;

Thrust, in your lust, to the uttermost deep;

Dart to her heart, in your masculine leap.

THE TAPIR (Anonymous. 1895)

O LITTLE deft of coral Grown about with daffodils; Fountain of porphyry

[353]

Where tlie waters of Hdicon gQit;

I would drink at your waters^

Bntwining my tongne

Abottt the ditoral embeacenee

Of your moat secret passion.

Winding in and out

Draining, drawing,

Curving about the sardonyx month

Of the sacred urn;

Drinking, O delicious!

thirsty devouring of viscous moon-beams» Of mucilaginous star light.

1 gather your two rosebuds And strip their petals

While eating your thrice extracted honeycomb^

NOW

O falling stars. . . .

Bathed in your liquid loveliness

Anointed with your adorable essence.

I LOVE MY LOVE IN THE MORNING (By J. William Lloyd. From Wiad Harp SoagM. 1895)

SWEETHEART, lie still tq;>on my breast, With love*red lips to mine impressed. And satin limbs that twine with mine. Like clinging tendrils of a vine.

O, love, the morning 'gins to peep. The rainbow-robed cataracts leap, A spotted fawn stands in the glade. The dew-drop diamonds gem each Uade.

Sweet love, I feel your gentle heart Throb where the sphered bosoms part; My necklace rare, your warm white azmSy My coverlet, disheveled charms.

The whoop-crane*8 clangor wakes the fens. Thrush voices pulse in echoing glens. On wave-wet sands the sea birds meet. Shy violets hide 'neath clover sweet

Ah man is man, and maid is maid, Sweet echoes, by each other 8wayed^—

[254]

Soft eyes will smile, red lips will ding, Till Death his last scythe stroke shall swuig.

The wild-fowl wedge through Northern skies. In Indian glades the tiger sighs. The siroc whirls the desert sandih— Love touches all, all dimes, all lands.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT (Anonymous. American. 1895)

npHE world was finished. On thdr ceasdess flight ^ God sped the jewels which adorn the night; Darkness rolled back before the light of day. And night shrank blushing from the morning ray. The skies were brilliant with a crimson hue. Which softiy blended with the azure blue; Bach mom new beauties would the earth nnf old. Draping the heavens with the tints of gold; While through the garden came the perfumed breese. Sweet with fragrance of the budding trees; And limpid babbling streams flowed gently by. Pure as the fount which crystals in the ^e; While flowers bloomed with nature's fairest dyes. Beneath the purple of the sunny skies.

In pristine vigor man remained alone Till woman came to share his leafy throne. Fully as fair, but with a softer shade. The last and best of all the things God made They both from nature hi their freshness came, But neither knew the blushing tints of shame; The flowing tresses only veiled from view Those tempting charms that were as rare as new.

They wandered cardess through the leafy grove. Basking in sunshine and their sinless love, Like children playing on a verdant lawn. As free from passion as a timid fawn. No douds had yet obscured the brilliant sun; The storm and tempest had not yet begun. It seemed that nature for itself did grieve When Adam knew the first embrace of Bve. Passion as yet had never warmed their frames Nor stirred then: blood with its insidious flames.

Children In thought, hut full of manly life. Their sleeping demons knew no heat nor strife. Love was a iwssion hidden in each heart. Whose wild desires time would to each impart. Love has one object and ulterior goal, One blissful moment which deludes the soul. When melting nature gently dies away

And cools the rapture of the heated clay. <

Take lust from love and love would be no mor»— Life has no pleasure but the hopes in store. The blushing virgin to the altar led Looks fondly forward to the marriage bed; Sighs for the moment when a husband^ kiss Preludes the rapture of a greater bliss; Sinks in the pressure of his burning arms, And gives unasked her most desirous charms. The garden scenes beneath fair Eden's bower Are re-enacted every day and hour. And every woman in her heart would grieve Were there no Adam for each loving Eve. ,

This one great lesson from St Paul we learn <

Better to marry than a virgin bum. During the day and oft at eventide. They both reposed in slumber, side by side; Yet had not dreamed there was a fount widiin Lying in wait to tempt them both to sin^— If it were sin to give way to the flood Of passion lurking dormant in the blood; For, all unconscious of those hidden fires. They ne'er had yet felt love's sweet, warm desires Nor known the joys they ne'er had tasted. Nor all the hours they both had wasted. Had they but known love's pure and fond delight Forbidden Fruit" were tasted the first night While Eve was Ijring in fair Eden's bower, « 

Herself the fairest and the sweetest flower. She sank in slumber near a murmuring stream And dreamed a sweet and most delightful dream; '

For, while all shadowed on the grass she lay, |

Her truant soul was roaming far away. She thought herself within the groves above. Where angels whispered of the sweets of lov»— Thought a man was lying in her blissful arms. Who kissed the cherries of her bosom's charms; Sought her full Ups and kissed an ardent kiss, ^

Which woke the rapture of an unborn Miss.

Her form lay stretched upon the flowing heath. |

While quick and hot came forth sighing breath,

[a56]

I

V

i

1

An arm was thrown above her golden head. One knee was raised from off her rosy bed, One hand was toykig with the silken hair That hid the treasures sweetly buried there; Her bosom, whiter than the ocean's foam. Rose white as marble in a passion dome, While on each breast in ruby lustre shone The red round nipple that surmounts each zone; And gently downward, like a floating wave. Lay the rich portals of her downy cave. Whose full red lips, half hidden in their moss. Shone like bright corals in their dewy gloss. And her round limbs, like ivory polished bright. Whose rosy hues were struggling through the white, Lay coiled in beauty as she thus reposed. With all her maiden charms at once exposed; The fairest thing of all God's work below, As fair as marble and as white as snow; Man's brightest jewel and God's purest gift Lay softly sleeping, but without a shift.

I From such a sight no mortal man could turn

Who felt the fires of manhood in' him bum. Priests preach of virtue, but of them beware. They would not turn from such a tempting snare. First they'd indulge and then perhaps might pray That God would humble their rebellious clay. Adam beheld her, as in slumber sweet Some seraph seemed those rosy lips to meet; Hears her soft sighs and sees her bosom swell. And felt the blood within his veins rebel; For such a sight would daze the purest eyes Of angels looking from the skies; A sight that man has never yet withstood Who felt love's virus stealing through his blood.

» Yet Adam knew not that this vision bright

Which lay unconscious of his raptured sight Was made by nature as his better part, The one sweet solace of his troubled heart;

L Knew not the syren in a woman's, guise

Would turn the garden into Paradise* Paradise lost-— but Paradise but found When first he saw Eve sleeping on the ground. Night came, all gilded with the sunset's d3res. Studded wi^ jewels the mild azure of the skies;

^ The moon rose softly on her upward flight.

The queen of beauty and the gem of night,

I While flowers paled with the departing day

L And closed their petals with the sun's last ray.

t

The birds had ceased to sing their ereniiig song. Save one» which into night his strains prolaag^ Pouring, in liquid measure, love's soft tale Thrcnigh the soft shadows of the flowery dale. Beguiling sleep awhile from languid ^es. Like some fair spirit in a worldly guise. All living things were sinking to repose, Dreading no danger from dark lurking foes; For on the fruit man had not yet been fed. And Eve, the virgin, had her maidenhead. Adam and Eve, at this sweet twilight hour. Sought their repose within a rustic bower; But ere the silken gauxe of balmy sleep Could o'er their drowsy eyeHds creep, Bve thought her of the dream she'd had again And felt its memories stealing through her brain. A soft, voluptuous shade stole o'er her eyes. The pulse of love within began to rise; Her cheeks were burning with a new desire. Her veins were boiling with an inward fire. Her lips were glowing with a warmth all new. Her breast was heaving as the passion grew; Bach nerve seemed thrilling through her heated frame. One blissful thought which ne'er had had a name. One blissful wish which she had never known. One fond desire that love could be her own. Gently an arm o'er Adam's breast she threw. While her lips moistened with the gathering dew; Her eyes seemed swimming in a sea of pearls. As from her breast she brushed the flowing curls. And, swelling high, her bosom seemed to flow With fire of passion fierce which burned below. Love, now imfettered, she could not restrain. But felt it surging through each swelling vein. Rousing the serpent cofled within her breast Whose strong desire had never been repressed. To Adam's lips she softly pressed her own, Whfle Adam's arms around her form were thrown; Yet, even then, he did not dream the bliss That Eve awakened by her fervent kiss; Knew not the joys that kindred natures feel As love's sweet fires through the system steal; But each caress that stirred his tranquil blood Thrilled through his body with a fiery flood. Lighting his face and burning in each vein. Until its raptures nothing could restrain. His manly bosom heaved with many a sigh. While lurid fires flashed from either eye;

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The breath came hot iipon his burning lips Whfle passion tingled to his finger tips; His frame was but a mass of heated clay. One strong desire now held unbounded sway; And yet he little knew what lay before. What msrstic pleasure was for him in store. But Eve, still trembling with her own desires. Added new fuel to her Adam's fires. Glued her wet lips to his hot, glowhig face And held him closely in her warm embrace. Distilling passion through her melting sighs And rousing demons with her flashing eyes. Night looked on calmly, as if nature smiled To think that Adam should be thus beguiled. The moon now threw a shadow o'er the scene. As if she fain their wantoness would screen; And e'en the stars half hid their sparkling rays. As if they blushed at such a scene to gaze. Eve, taught by instinct and inflamed by love. Would fain the pleasure of their passion prove; Felt that the spot now half consumed by heat Was the choice fruit they were forbid to eat; And, like aU women since that blissful time. Was half inclined to perpetrate a crime. A crime so sweet that aU have followed suit. And like it better for its being stolen fruit. Adam, meanwhile, had found his manhood's pride. And Eve now acted as its faithful guide; Qently her hand around its ivory stole And turned it quickly toward its natural goal; Then, lying prone upon her snowy back. Opened before it an untrodden track. Ecstatic joy her every nerve did thrill. Till heart and thought and even soul stood stilL Warmer and warmer were her kisses given. Until the pleasure seemed to her a heaven. And thus she lay in that intense delight Which women fed iq>on their wedding night. When heart and soul commingle in a kiss And love's fond rapture gives hymenial bliss. But, all too soon, each felt their strength give way As love dissolved in passion's heated spray. And pouring forth, came then his gushing flood. Mixed with crimson of Eve's virgin blood. Then Adam sank, half-fainting, on her breast. With lingering sighs that could not be repressed* His eyes now gleamed not with a fiery glance. While o'er his frame there came that blissful trance

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Which poor dissolving nstore sweedy feds When love enraptured brealcs a maiden's seals. Blushing and modest, with unconscious grace* Bve liid 'neatfa Adam's arm her glowing face; For now that passion had swept o'er her f orm. She lay all quivering from its pleasant storm. And only wished her burning cheeks to hide The sweet, warm blushes of a new-made bride; Whfle in her eyes a humid vapor stole, Which for a time seemed clouding o'er her jkniI, And trembling sweetiy with her new delight Felt light departing from her failing sight. Ah I who shall paint the rapture they first knew Beneath the sparkUng canopy of blue» While in the pride of their fidl strengdi and youth They tasted sweetly of the cup of truth And found that joy till then to man unknown— A priceless boon which he might call his own. And this pure bliss which in the garden came. Still thrills as sweetly through each mortal fr»ne. And each new couple on their marriage bed. When husband takes his young wife's nuddaihead. Repeats again the same old pleasure o'er And finds in love a never-failing store, When to her husband she gives up the gem. The sweetest jewel in love's diadem. Hark! to the mutt'rings that are heard afar. As nature feels an elemental war. Thunder is rolling booming in the skies And vivid lightning blinds their tearful eyes; The winds shriek onward with a shrieking blast. And deep with gloom the skies are overcast. Whfle from the clouds the pelting rains descend And with the storm the war of wild b«Mts blend; Each brute feels all its instincts wildly stirred, Whfle in the air is heard the screaming bird. In one wild shriek a thousand tongues give vent To the deep passion which the world has sent. Now storm and darkness settle o'er the Isnd And the blue sea comes bellowing on the sand; The massive trees before the whirlwind rock, The earth now trembles with the earthquake's shod^ For man has heard from God his awful doom. No more the fruits of Eden's fruitful soil. His sweat shall moisten all he earns by toil, Whfle Eve in anguish shall to life give birth And leave a heritage of woe' on earth. God made them pure, but out of worldly dust,

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And from the day they gather all the lutt From that sweet 8cene» within the grove began. Came the sorrows that have tortured man; And, till the trump of Gabriel gives us peace, Our woes entailed on earth shall never cease.

THE BED OF LOVE (By James F. Morton, Jr. U. S* A. 1905)

/^ARDEN of bliss, where fairest flowers are culled; ^^ Rich mine of treasures, wanting no bright gem; Serpentless Eden of a blessed pair;

Best jewel in a life's bright diadem.

Hence with the thought of shame to him who deems Foul evil of the joys he may not share!

There is no stain in love; the only sin

Is his who scorns the garb of love to wear.

Sweet home of passion, nest of mated hearts Quick throbbing each to each in wild desire;

Till swift, resistless, through each pulse and vehi Leaps quivering forth love's own magnetic fire.

O wretched, empty lives, that never knew

The thrill of love's ecstatic, fierce embrace!

When, lips to lips tight pressed, heart beats to heart, With hot, sharp breaths; and love-fired limbs enlace.

Thy sweet will, love, be done! From that blest conch

Fond lovers may not rise unsatisfied; Denied the crowning act of perfect bliss.

When being into being seems to glide.

Rest, loving hearts, in blissful lassitude.

Still tightly clMped in soft, encircling arms.

Sleep, sweetly sleep, to wake and taste again

The maddening richness of each other's charms.

Love's hour is brief, but crowned with wealth beyond The brightest splendors of the loveless years.

The thrones of monarchs and the seats of gods

Shrink all to naught in love's bright smiles or tears.

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Best homo of lovel To many an amorona fiay We TOW tliy tnowy aheeta to dedicate;

That barda to come, m oft-repeated atnJna, Thy perfect hotm may long commemorate.

A BALLAD OF MEN I HAVE VAMPED— IN

VAIN

(Anonymooa. American, c. 19J0)

/^F virtue In woman and honor in man

^^ Haa many a bard aong the praiie;

And if I now mention the aubject again

It'a diadnctively a negative phaae,

For while virtue and honor are well in their waya

One wearies at length of their dutch,

Sapedally when it inapirea the phraae

"Yea, dear, but I love you too much.**

Theae modem young men who write boolm about aez

AH aay, '^o be chaate ia a aint

Live life to the full without hindrance or dieckat

None too young or too old to begin."*

But for the deplorable plight that Fm in—

(And youll surely admit it ia auch)—

They have no reply but an aainine grin

And a Really, I like you too much."

There are brave men a plenty, the newapapera aay.

Who rape and aeduce all the tim»—

But none of them happen to come Vound my way.

My frienda don't aeem given to crime.

For bridge or theatrea or parties they're prime

And tiiey don't seem to shrink at my touch.

But their failing (which goaded me into this rhyme)

la that all of them like me too much.

Ifa not that I go in for Passion msrself—

I find it a terrible bor»—

But a virgin can have no respect for herself

In this day of the glorified whore.

So I call at young hopefula' apartments galore.

But, when safe in a masculine dutch,

I imply my intentions, they show me the door,

And aaaure me they like me too much.

Are they cowirds, or heroee, these diffident males?

Do they brave every feminine shell?

Or is it my personal presence that fails

To intrigue them? I never can tell;

For experts have said I make love very well

Still I most lack the magical tonclw-

For they praise and admire and love me— but Hell I

They-— all of then»— Eke me too much.

ENVOI:

Yon, prince, who have hardily ventured to learn Of the men I have vainly ensnared* Fve done as you bid me, and ask in return Whether you, in their place, would have dared. And this I implore you, don't ever get scared. And when virgins entreat your fond touch — Do whatever you feel that the Fates have prepare<!^ But don't tell them srou like them too nmch.

DON JUAN'S NOTE BOOK (COPLAS DE DON

JUAN)

(By Harry Kemp. After the Old Spanish. 19JJ)

npO lose in love. Love holds the least of crimes; '^ Even I, Don Juan, was crossed in love at timeSi • • • Be calm in everything you do or say«- The sudden motion scares the bird away • . • Wait till you see she wants you, then be bold: Your force is now increased a hundredfold • • • Though you pretend to hang on every phrase. Don't listen to her words, but to her face; Hear her eyes' yes" when her lips falter no"— And then be quick— -for love blows cold when slow: Though Woman yearns to make the sacrifice. Snatch at the moment or you'll lose the prize • • • Love cannot thrive, like sound, in empty space; Time must be opportune, as well as place; Else all in vain the long, assiduous art. The 3delding body and the softened heart . . . A young man may be amorous, yet no fool; An old man's love is life's last ridicule. • . • No mortal pain can strike with deeper smart Than memory stabs the newly widowed heart;

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But tiie best healing force yet known to men For broken hearts, it is to love again. • • • If an ill act its pnnishnient impose. Caress with wrath, and strike with plajrful blows: To be the perfect lover, you must learn To practice sternness without being stem. . • • The headlong suitor proves an easy prey- Women and statesmen conquer by delay. • . . Though doctors know the virgin from the whore. Beauty is still that little less or more: Learn then, before your lips in scorn be curled. There's scarce an ugly woman in the world; Much love I've had, and much love have I missed— But every woman's beautiful when kissed. . . . Ponder my axioms well, but let none bind: Each woman is a different womankind. . . • Nor follow blindly like a groping fool«- For time, life, circumstance change every rule • . . Though she be beautiful as fairyland. She's still a woman as her maker planned. Subject to moonlight, kisses, and sweet lies— Assail her; shun the folly of the Wise . • • Though heaven above be doubtful, here below Woman's the only paradise I know . . . There's nothing so uncertain as a kiss. Yet nowhere is there found more certain bUss . . . A king's descendant is the prince, his son: In love, a daiiymaid and queen are one: If she affect aloofness, dare, nor fear: One scratch of passion shows if s but veneer . . • If jrou'd preserve the thrilling zest of love. Remain where nature placed the man— above I • . • Though many paths of blandishment I've trod, A virtuous woman's heart belongs to God, With her the devil himself can nothing do- But, Lord, how few she is, O, Lord, how few! Whatever code she foUow, creed profess, It is a woman's nature to transgress. For, though they smite him with a thousand rods. The god of love remains the god of godst . . . Men differ in the titles that they wear: A woman's just a woman everjrwhere; Give her a necklace, sweetmeat, poem, flower, A kiss, YOURSELF — but never give her powerl . . • For love, for health, a man may walk abroad. For business, or the worship of his God: A woman's acts of being are but two: She's either loitering for a rendezvous.

Or—malring haste to keep a rendesvonat • . • Poetry, faistoiy, commerce, music, art. Lead, as all roads to Rome, to Woman's heart; Warriors, statesmen, painters, poets, king»— Woman loves Man for many varied things That differ as the dusk does from the day— But to Man's heart Beauty is her one way- Beauty that holds a little time in trust Then with her sister rose descends to dust: Man triumphs still on wings of wealth, strength, fame^ But Woman's ever is the losing gam»— A winged defeat even at its highest power— A masque tliat leaves its music in an hourt • . . Clothed in eternity and perfectness. Love, while it lasts, must know nor More nor Less • . • I've loved my thousand women in my time^ Wooed them with lies and madness, prose and rhyme. And, loyal still to all. 111 not admit That any lacked in heauty or in wit I A thousand women, and not one was dulll A thousand women, and all beautiful I Though loved an hour, each one was God to me. And all that angels know of ecstacy; Though but an hour until we drew apart. That hour I gave up aU my soul, my heart; Not dawdling from slack year to tedious year. For that brief space, at least, I burned sincere: Thaf s why, when centuries have come and gone^ I will be famous still, as Don Juant • • • With burning pencil I have shaped these v erses Not as a student midnight calm immerses With open folios on every side. But champing like the Devil in his pride While waiting for the frequent rendezvous At times when I had nothing else to do. . . . Women are apt for love, lust, lies, and crime,— But God Himsdf can't make diem be on time: I owned my women, body, life, and soul«- But here was one thing I could not control I • • . Some write for wealth, power, fame, or even spit^ Msrself? The truth compels me, and I writel . • • I said I never lied, yet I essayed Often, where pity or affection bade. The easy lie: when love still lingered on In hers, though in my heart its pulse was gone^ I lied to save her heartbreak till delay And life's affairs had smoothed the ache away. And oft affection bade me, 'gainst my will.

• • •

StOl swear I loved the pretty crettore still I No woman sticks at close adultery: AU women stick for outward decency; Seeming is all the virtue that they know: Since virtue's £ame depends on outward show. Give her all time to eat; dance, pray, prate; drink- But never, never give her time to think Lest she should think of rivals, not of you: "lis lack of tiiought oft keeps her passion true • • • Half accident and half stiq^dity Is most of tiie world's virtue that we see. • • • I loved an actress who could act IN LIPB-«  ACTING, her mind and body stood at strife: A man can, drunk or sober, face a fact— But every woman tliinks that she can act: In life tiiere is no doubt aU women can. The world her stage, her chief spectator, Man; She weeps, she loves, she hates, she laughs, she preens,— With God and Fate the shifters of the scenes. • • • At times I've loved two, three, or four, or fiv^* The surest way to keep one's love a]iv»— For many eggs sre laid where few survive— For many birds are hatched that do not thrive . • • With virgin, matron, mother, widow, wife, I have not been more pitiless than life; I have betrayed no more than years betray: Disease strikes down and old age brings decays— And Don Juan has foUowed nature's way. . • • Spare no one you desire, for, soon or late; Her frailty must accept the woman's fate; Make speedily the secret rendezvous. Nor for anotiier leave what waits for yon • • • I am a force of nature like the blight That fell iq>on the field of com last night. • • • Often I've schemed some clever, amorous plan While through the solemn chant the choir boys ran: Ah, how I've tried to be a pious man: But to track women's hearts down is my use. As the hound scents the fox, the fox, the goose I Though God, the Pope, and Satan join to damn My soul, they cannot alter what I ami . . . A Third— I had an instinct for the same; Anotiier Third— lor practice taught the game; A Third succumbed because they knew my fame. Some sought me for I had an easy laugh. And some, because I knew good wine to qua£F, Some bartered virtue for my autograph; For though I was no sonneteer of note

There moved persuasion In the way I wrote.

Some liked the interesting way I talked;

Otliers» tlie way I moved my liands or walked—

Up in the Devil's Inn their score Is chalkedl

That small events lead on to actions great

Ask any king or minister of states

Ask the good Lord who made me what I am;

A rose, an idle hour, an epigram.

An act performed too ill, perhaps too well.

May cause a kingdom's fall, or send a soul to helll

Ah, whether I'm condemned to freeze or bum

The Devil's got me every way I torn. . • •

Although denied and yet again denied.

The certain issue of your suit abide,

Yes» even though she be God's faith-sworn bride.

Tinie will put by her coldness and her pride.

For nature fights upon the lover's side. • • •

Although I've cast my net both far and wide

The fish I have not caught still irk my pride

And to my day of death I shall regret

The rainbowed beings that escaped my net

Despite the skiU with which its web was set • •

Although so infinite the moving Deep

That the sky's edges on its bosom sleep.

My thirst is just as infinite to win

With my small net the multitudes therein . . .

O, if I were as mighty as my mind

And my desire, I'd love aU womankind—

O, if I were as mighty as my mind

I'd plunge into this sea of womenkind.

Go on and out until my last, large breatii

And gladly find what God intends by death . • •

No passion ever thrived in vacuo:

For every kiss, you gain another foe;

Love is a ceaseless warfare to the knife:

Say that she comes to you, a faithless wife.

Her husband's wrath brings danger to your life

If he perceive, as, soon or late, he will

Unmarried if she be, there remain stiU

Sweethearts and brothers, cursed kith and kin,—

And skilled is he whose feet escape the gin:

Early I served beneath dear Venus' star,

And I have borne away fuU many a scaiv—

For war is peace compared with love's imperilled war • • •

Rein her in close or you will strike disaster:

Women and dogs both love and need a master , • •

Like ill-played music or an ape's grimace,

So is a woman when she's out of place.

More ezqakite than a saadle in grace. So ihinea the woman in her fitting place. • • • Although I break the rules of every school— I'm all for regularity and rule. ... The girls to whom my love has brought delight— I feel their power upon me in the night; With passionate thought and dream* with love, hate^ grief— I feel their power upon me past belief; And I perceive that they are all my brides. In dream I couch once more by all their sides Unnumbered, and breathe back the tender vow: Such latitude do sleep and dreams allow. . . • They talk as if a law can change the wrong That faUs on womankind, or make them strong: Ere the first priest taught the first woman shame Nature herself decreed the losing game, For heaven in primordial days decreed Women should be as of a different breed From men, a race as from another world Into the common camps of Adam hurled Which fell straightway into that variance That, since, has led ^e world its sorry dance,— For, somewhat more the problem to perplex, Qod gave two foes the common need of sex; But still, when for a space that need departs. The lulled distrust awakens in the hearts Of lover and beloved, though side by side. The old strangeness faUs between the groom and bride That nothing can assuage or wholly end Till God himself embrace the Devil as friend. • • • Teach her the wisdom of the court and schools— She will talk wisely yet prove thrice the fooL The only thing that she can understand, A will that wavers not in its command; She'll love you while you keep the upper hand: Too weak for the dominion she desires. Like to a slave, unquestioned mastery she requires: For slaves' and women's constant dream is power; Yet woe to such as sue them in their hour. For neither help nor mercy shall they see: The feeble use no rule by ts^ranny. Enslaved the more in that they know not to be free • • • Where love is sown some tares of hate must grow: Full many an enemy the heart shall know- But love rejected makes the greatest foe . . . Youll find some women wise and merciful— But the exception certifies the rule That tiiey are savage, wanton, and unwise,

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And should be held at warriors seize a prise . . . Harnessed and trussed by ribbons, hooks, and stays. Strutting and chattering like popingays, Art, books, religion using as a blind. To love alone they give their life, soul, body, mindl • . Don Louis is my friend though I enjoy His wife, why should that add the least alloy Unto our friendship's gold? The ways we go Don Louis never knows, nor need he know; And since he shares both heart and wife with me, I'm twice as jealous for his fame as he: Li his repute 111 wield a ready sword Let Slander look askance or breathe one doubtful word. Beneath Convention's strict, observed parade The Devil and his people ply their trade. And Laws the foolish break the wise evad»— Evad^ but, in their wisdom, never break. Enjoy the theft, yet leave the thing they tak^— To smell the rose one need not pluck at all- Such nice distinctions to the worldly falll . . • Marrying her whose virtue you've destroyed Is paying for a luxury enjoyed And twice as hateful; better give her over Into the convoy of another lover .Than into such sure shipwreck to be drawn-^ Then hoist the good black flag and voyage ont • • . After the second year, when wives begin To meditate the pleasantness of sin Like ripe fruit at the easy touch they fall. Like siUy birds that heed the fowler's calL • . • Learn well the value of the passing hour And the quick thrust that sweeps the heart to power • • , Women are hungry-minded everywhere Or for tiieir first or sixtieth affair. And soon the mistress cracks the cold veneer- But every time the first, sheer plunge tiiey fear: Maid, wife, or harlot, die will bid you wait: The female's instinct is to hesitate; To dilatory stratagem inclined,

• Tis you must help her to make up her mind;

Each time she has to overcome the fear That nature planted in the little dear, A fear by age-long misadventure taught That love by final bitterness is bought— Yet, though love do her hurt with every breath, A loveless life to her is worse than death; So, since the fatal cast depends on you. Help her to choose the better of the two. • • •

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The UMdvl is repaid with faitUciiiictfr- The hitter end of love it bitteniees. Thoiigh each hie dayg at atmdxy taste cmplor Life's greatest pleasure is love's passmg jay . . . Between embraces guard the ready whq> And like the Turk retain your mastership . . . Remember, though she bears no certain mind And no strong oath her wandering moods can The surest pathway to persuaded am And to illicit passion, is to win Ha: confidences, never giving yours— This conquers o'er a thousand subtler lures. . . . If she has given herself for ease and wealth She'll find the greater charm m lover's stealth; S^ong-guarded towers the rich man's wealth may hold- Woman's a subtler element than gold: She can be bought, yet still remain unsold. Like quicksflver bnrnmg with quenchless fire She seeks the level of her own desire^ Nor will be long confined to one sure wpot. But where men's wish would find her she is not .. . Invent eUborate lies if you would stir The eagerness of love that waits in her; There is a certain texture in the lie That, like the bold and glittering fisher's fly. Has charms tiie harmless worm of truth holds not— By the ^e's sppetite the wary trout is caught . . . Or curiosity will lure her on. As by a fluttering rag the deer is drawn . . . At twenty scarcely dry behmd the ears, At thirty I had far outstripped my peen, But I beguiled them best at forty years . . . At forty years a woman's day is past; A man, well-kept, has ten more years to last . . . What long deh^r the slave just raised to power Subjects the wortiiy to, what exquisite flower Of msult does he phick when set above His betters! So does Woman, sure of love^ Torture the hearts of men as on a rackl • • . Give much but, somehow, hold a little bacl^ And, rendered plaint by uncertainty. She'll Uss and weep and gladly yield the mastery • . • The greatest joy of misers is to creep At midnight to count o'er theu: fluttering heap. Midnight's the lover's hour, too, when he finds That wealth that's shared by mutual hearts and minds: But lovers to tiie top of heaven mount By kisses that the miser cannot count

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...

• • •

Each know* the base beghimngs of hii trade: I cUmbed from kitchen wench and chamber maid. From height to gradual height, until I laid For the great queen herself successful ambuscade! AU song and art and beauty hold their root In love's delays, in love's prolonged pursuit • . • When I was true to one I possessed none; When true to none aU womenkind I won. To whom the lie tastes sweeter than the truUi, Who far prefer the lust that knows no ruth To the considerate heart, o'er which they pass As the ox treads the daisy in the grass. • • • All simple honesty they scourge with hate; They whip sincerity without the gate Yet yield like water when men simulate The Uunt, plain virtues; under flattenr's stroke They bow their necks down to the Devil's yoke. Art haa its place,— song she will gladly hear. But praise her to herself, she is all ear; Then lay art, song, and learning on the shelf: There is one subject never bo res H ERSELF! • • • There's no one way to bring the captive home— For all wasrs lead to love, as well as Rome. • • • They My IVe ruined women, when the sun Sinking in gold, ensnared the pretty one^ When forest moons or floated music played. Or scent of roses, sprung the ambuscade— When I MY feast upon THEIR victuns made; I've used all earth and heaven for my aid: Even God's rituals have aided m^* The holy cassock and the bended knee— For lust will find a path where devils flee. . . • The duel has its code which men declare- But in love's actions foul itself is fair. • • • In vain the greybeards who forgot their youth Would check my headlong course with bitter truth For all ill that has 1)een or yet shall be Cannot outweigh love's briefest ecstacy. . • • Though Fm a nobleman of great renown Tve often brushed a rival in some down Or wooed a cottage maid of base descent Yet from her kisses drained such rich content As many a titled lady could not give. Love yields to no one his prerogative. And a page often holds a queen in f ee^ And, though he's absolute in tyranny, Love proves your only true democracy! . . • GOD MADE MEN TO BEGET, WOMEN TO BEAR,

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^

AND BVBRY WOllAN NBBD8 A HUSBAND'S

CARB; HBR FUNCTIONS THRBE— THB CHILD, THB

HOMB, AND PRAYBR— AND ALL THB RBST IS HELL'S AND MY AP-

PAIRt . . . BY SOMB MAN BVBRY WOMAN SHOULD BE

OWNBD— HUMBLB YBT IN HIS HEART A QUBBN BN-

THRONED— I, WHO ENCOMPASS WOMEN'S OVERTHROW AND UNDERSTAND THBIR NATURES, OUGHT TO

KNOW; BY HEAVEN ABOVB AND BY THB EARTH BE-

LOW, BY ALL GOD'S ANGELS— WHAT I SAY IS SOI . . .

I AM THE SONG OP LOVE (By Joseph T. Shipley. 19JJ)

¥ AM the song of love.

'^ I murmur gently in the secret places.

When the lovers breathe the gladness of the sky;

When they laugh, and the cause of their mirth is hidden;

When they are awing with the bird, adrift with tiie cloud,

astir with the leaves and the blades of grass and the

spring: I a;n tiie song they sing.

I am the purl of their caresses.

I am the cry of the passion of love.

I swell through the ardor of embradng; Tongue whispers me to tongue, and I rise in the breast of *

the maiden; I throb in the arms that encircle; I beat in the legs that entwine; I dimb to a roar of ecstatic flow, man to woman. The fuU-beUowed call of life.

Before the panting diminish, and the blissful anguish die, I am the passion cry.

I am the rhythm of their silenceSi I am the sob of the sorrow of love.

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<«■

When the tigress haunts the jungle of her mind, solitary,

baffled, , When her mate is caged in convention, is exhibited upon iht

highwasrs of life; I am the moan of her loneliness, I am the howl of his rage.

When the stars glow unheeded above a lone, bowed head; When longing lovers watch the studded ai]>--each viewing

other constellations; When the low bell of midnight falls on the listening, unez-

pectant ear. And the lark proclaims anew the impotent day; When absence lays its hoar-frost on the soul; When death has come to rob: I am the sorrow-soh.

I am the eternal ever-changing song of love.

BAUDELAIRE TO HIS LOVE

(By Joseph T. Shipley. 19 jj).

T UXURIOUS languid tiger-lOy, swayhig

-^ Unconcerned, my lips are burned with tiie kiss

You waft me, my head turned, and I swoon with bliss.

Out of the anguish of your arms I*m praying

That life shall end with this.

You are my memory of Egyptian suns When I adored the phallic psrramids And found you couched beside the Sphinx, that Uds Beware. Frantic and vain my dream that once Love seeped through drowsy Uds.

Where no gods be, man makes his god, and you Are god or devil fashioned for my woe; Prom you my pangs and parlous pleasures flow; Would I had strength to be blasphemous, untrue. Would I could bid you go!

But all a hemisphere whirls in the tress You shake at me; imprisoned there I dwell. Its secret dreads I do not dare to teU; It is my paradise— ah I who will bless Me with the gift of hellt

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And yon have loved bt£ore-4f tiie flaming fMsdoB That roan tliroagh you to what it ahall conanma, Be love-^md I would wring an awfnl doom On thoae who held yoa fint; and I would faahion Their atrait abyamal tomb.

There I would l)id yoa wander, calling, calling The ghoata of thoae with whom your froisy played Diacarding (Were yon ever an nntried maid?) I would engidf you there. Rm blindly, failing^— Bat that I am afraid.

And fear la new to me; I fear and wonder; I prick my fleah witii fear to fed it aqoirm. I gnmp yoa, qoivering; I hold yoa firm; And when the ground I tranq;>le heavea with thunder I hail my end, the worm.

And once^ you aaid the brat waa mine, ni-latedl Whelped of a daatard and a duaky whore. Through what divea ahall it crawl? upon what floor Lick up penreraion? Are new aina created That it may cry for more?

I loved my mother once; tiie tiiought lurloi ever Somewhere, redeeming; I am not wholly gone. What if my Uf e be but the croaa laid on? Bnt he win find no reapite, aurceaae never; AH auna and aina are wan.

There waa a time when mad auna ont of me Lighted and whirled a univerae untold, Whoae realma were hennaHq;»iced, whoae maidena bold; I have homed eona; there ia nanght to aee; I whirl in endleaa cold.

If out of time and apace you have conceived A garden of luxuriant delight Where I am rooted in yoa, and my plight Plowera in your laughter, atill yoa are bereaved By the noadoua breath of night

Oat of your menace apriag ezodc Uooma, Gnarled morbid growtha and leering venomed vinea. And you the unholy temptreaa that entwinea Where flickering maudlin annlighta Uoteh our i^ooma And my aoul panta and pinea.

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J

And in that garden I have set a shrine Where I am poet, warrior, and prieat, Know, kill, create; my senses are increased Beyond love's evil; passion's bread and wine Is my ecstatic feast.

I watch the incense pouring through that sknU, And those are chimnesrs now that once were eyes. And aU is fetid I could ever prize. And a transcendent glory now is dull And even evil dies.

We can forget time but hy using it; And pleasure sizzles drearily; the clod- Knowing creation is the fall of God- Stumbles through blindness to the heart of wit, And my numbed senses nod.

Vohtptuousness is circling cruelty Burning like heat and cold; I must live fast, Tasting each joy lest that joy be the last: A gust from the wing of imbecility Has wamingly swept past.

I wake anew to pangs of eager lust; I am enhungered for forgotten food; The world is straitlaced; I am frankly lewd: In universal horror and disgust I shall find solitude.

IN A MOMENT (By Joseph T. Shipley. 19JJ)

A LEAP, flash of my body over the water's dark; SpUudi, and before her startled senses wake To action, I am therel

She stands, unconscious of her nudity. Two needle-flics, joined and vibrating like a living harp. Spun round her in their passion. One was green-black, and one a vivid bhie. She watched tiiem idly, while the water lapped— Oh, so tenderly, not to alarm her— Avidly at the cream-round of her thighs. Then she tunied idly, floating. There is no human sight more fair

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Than was her ilender form; she lay Like a kiss upon the water, and tiie son Lighted her face, and danced opon her breasts As fairies dance on soft rose-petals strewn For their queen's wedding day. It was our bridal that the son proclaimed. Did the envious wind whisper warning? Did that scurry of wild ducks to the farther shore Startle her? She is no more a nymph That dreams, adrift to nowhere, in a time When water and wind and sun were sheltering gods; She is no more incarnate heedless beauty But a huddled timorous maiden I adore. She stands, all-consdous of her nudity. Shrunk for concealment, poised for flight. Now^— Now— I must leapt

THE GOD OF LOVE (By Joseph T. Shipley. i9Jj)

IN the days when the dawn thrust its lances over hills that were fresher than dew.

When there burned upon upstartled glances new glories of lands that were new.

Men stood forth and plucked what they fancied as the bee drinks full of the flower;

Thorns pricked? or the gamer was randd? there were mani- fold fruits to devour.

No question was cloud on their doing, no self -searching led fiMn^ nmifit^

Th^ saw, they desired, and pursuing won to the maid with a kiss,

With a kiss that he took and she granted in fulness of open delight;

For they were not abashed, neither flaunted their joys on indifferent sight;

But loved where they found, without query of motive and intent and scheme

As the brown bear gobbles the berry, as wHd geese scrfsm.

As Charon waits at the ferry of death, and as poets dream. The forests and glades then were crowded with creatures of turbulent range.

Whose passionate sun never clouded, whose ardor was end- less as change.

\

M

The lake dosed over the naled, m silent sheltering doek. The fmun leapt forth at the dryad, and stumbled over the oak; Bach lad f dt a power greater than freshet mad with the

^ring: '*Weak is the boast of the satjrrl — ^biit a nymph is a tender

thing; She may fly me the moment, but later she shall nest in my

heart, and sing; Sing low of her tender caresses, sing wild of her passion*

throes; I shall pilfer a curl of her tresses, I shall rest,— ah, resti— >

when she goes. Till memory splendidly dresses her, till memories dose. . • And strange gods have leapt from their passion: Priapns»

o'erweening, outthrust, Cotytto, whose glance IsyB the lash on, whose warm wiucen

flesh is the crust Of a vented volcano whose fires suck the breath of the lover

that comes. And his limbs are the chords of her Ijrres, his body the beat

of her drums; Their passion has sprung through Astarte, whose eyes ever

dose in love's death. And all that is lusty and hearty breathes deep of her mad- dening breath. Through their gods we have glimpse of a fashion whose

fragrance we know not of; The pagans have proffered us passion, but thou art the god

of love. Thou art love: in all forms to all peoples do thy multiple

mysteries throb. Prom thy strident Priapean steeples to thy soul that is ciqyped

in a sob; With children thy fingers are tender as beaver to beaver- young; Thou art the undaunted defender of the thief and. the harlot,

outflung Prom the doors of the holy, and mender of hearts that dis- aster has wrung. Thou art love of the feeble, the pallid; thou art tolerance of

^e strong, Thou art comfort for him who has dallied on the threshold

of wrong, And the starveling has filled him and rallied with breath of

thy song. Thou art love of the virgin mother, who walks in a robe of

white

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Like tlM mowdrite that tflaitiy mother tiie moif t earth's

might And mea cry that tiiy garmenti are aihea» the hem of

thj robe is a duat; And pity wella nnder thy kahea more potent than angaria goat: But I eee there gleam memoried flaahea of flaming Inat To thy apirit are women forbidden thhiga» carnal, camdng»

and cmel» Their flcah is by demona ridden, their aoula are the deriTa

fuel. From tiie eight of man mnit they be hidden; man deema hdl-

fire a JeweL (Is Satan a aubder achemer than thy aimplidty graapa? Thon that art man'a redeemer when Satan daapa.) Warn ua of woman; do we wpum bar? It is danger that acta

man afire; A aecret, man hangera to learn her; a ain, and abe feeda

hia desire. A veil, and it cries to be lifted, it flutters to give man a

glhnpae Of a goddeaa anpemally gifted; and a tfaonaand manna^

tongned impa Qniver '^oman'a a ahallow delnaion, her my st e r y manifeat

Her ^srea are the gatea of confoaion, that doae when yotf re

captured ttiere.** Are the impa and thy word in coQuaion? Man ia blind when

ye bid him beware. In what pagan whoae paadoa imperiooa the enviooa lover

paints Rose ever a ferment ddirioua aa whirled In the dreama of

the aahits? No secret abode coold avail them, no penance atill their alarma; Through the lone^ ways she would trail them, entwine them

with ainuooa charma. Tin thdr aaintly endurance would fail them, or they fled

tiirongh death to thine arma. When woman waa held for the pleaaure and comfort and

adace of man Joy had its ultimate meaaure, in a world of meaaure and

Now ahe is a trial and a treaaure we may not apan. And ahe too givea thanks for thy coming; tiiou haat tau|^ her her wondroua might; Out of tliy chill and thy numbing ahe haa burned to a ruddier

flight. And made of thy corseted mumming her arma for the fight

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Thoa has made her man's dream and damiiatioii» and her

piety pays for thy gifts; She is demure, hut elation thrills quietly under and lifts In her soul to a mystical paean, in her form to a lamhent

grace (Fused with the Cjrtherean ardor, is a withheld embrace) That first in the empjrrean accords thee thy holy place. Oh God, linger on with the nations while the suns of my

days endure; When man stays not to pour thee libations, what things will

be sure? When woman, unmasked and ungirdled, understood, stands

cleansed of her sin. The cream of her lore will have curdled, the world of our

lofve ceased to spin; Yield not to the damor of science that seeing all, yet never

knows; Are thy pallor and meekness defiance to chiU thy blustering

foes? The pagan was jrouth, and was bolder to flash tiie sword

f^om the sheath, Man and maiden shoulder to shoulder entwined round their

limbs one wreath; Science is older and colder, and queries What lieth beneath? Thou layest thy gentle cover alike over query and quests As the arm oi the tender lover droops on the tenderer

breast;—-— Whatever of gods may be mortal, hold thou thy throne above^ And smile to man over thy portal; thou alone art Qod, bdng

love.

THE END