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diff --git a/44571-h/44571-h.htm b/44571-h/44571-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d5d250 --- /dev/null +++ b/44571-h/44571-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2166 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/i_001.jpg" /> + <title> + Points of Humour: Part I., by George Cruikshank--A Project Gutenberg eBook. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + + .oldenglish { + font-family: "Old English Text MT" +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + margin: 3em auto 3em auto; + height: 0px; + border-width: 1px 0 0 0; + border-style: solid; + border-color: #dcdcdc; + width: 500px; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb { + width: 250px; + margin: 3em auto 3em auto; +} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: #999; +} /* page numbers */ + + + .center {text-align: center;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +/* Images */ + .figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Transcriber Notes */ +div.tn { + background-color: #EEE; + border: dashed 1px; + color: #000; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 5em; + margin-bottom: 5em; + padding: 1em; +} + +ul.corrections { + list-style-type: circle; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +div.fn { + background-color: #EEE; + border: dashed 1px; + color: #000; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 5em; + margin-bottom: 5em; + padding: 1em; +} + + .footnote { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-indent: -2em; + font-size: 0.9em; +} + + .footnote .label { + right: 84%; + text-align: right; +} + + .fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none; +} + +/* Poetry */ + .poem { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-align: left; +} + + .poem br { display: none; } + + .poem .stanza { margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; } + + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i14 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i20 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i28 {display: block; margin-left: 14em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i30 {display: block; margin-left: 15em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i32 {display: block; margin-left: 16em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44571 ***</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + + +<h2>POINTS</h2> + +<h6>OF</h6> + +<h1>HUMOUR.</h1> + +<h6>ILLUSTRATED BY</h6> + +<h4><span class="oldenglish">A Series of Plates</span>,</h4> + +<h3>FROM DESIGNS BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.</h3> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h4>TEN ENGRAVINGS ON COPPER. TWELVE WOOD CUTS.</h4> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">"<i>Let me play the fool:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And let my liver rather heat with wine,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sit like his grandsire, cut in alabaster?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>By being peevish?</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i28"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h3>PART I.</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Price</span> 8<i>s.</i></h3> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h3>LONDON:</h3> + +<h3>PUBLISHED BY J. ROBINS AND CO. IVY LANE,<br /> +PATERNOSTER ROW.</h3> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2><a name="POINTS" id="POINTS">POINTS</a></h2> + +<h6>OF</h6> + +<h1>HUMOUR;</h1> + +<h4><span class="oldenglish">Illustrated</span></h4> + +<h6>BY THE</h6> + +<h3>DESIGNS OF GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.</h3> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h4>LONDON:</h4> + +<h4>PUBLISHED BY C. BALDWYN, NEWGATE STREET.</h4> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<h4>1823.</h4> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> + + + +<h6><a name="LONDON" id="LONDON">LONDON:</a></h6> + +<h6>Printed by D. S. Maurice, Fenchurch Street.</h6> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE">PREFACE.</a></h2> + + +<p>It will be readily perceived that the literary part of this +work is of humble pretensions. One object alone has +been aimed at and it is hoped with success—to select +or to invent those incidents which might be interesting +or amusing in themselves, while they afforded scope for +the peculiar talents of the artist who adorns them with +his designs. The selection was more difficult than may +at first sight be supposed. It is true, there is no paucity +of subjects of wit and humour, but he who will +take the trouble to examine them, will find how few are +adapted for pictorial representation. No artist can embody +a point of wit, and the humour of many of the +most laughable stories would vanish at the touch of the +pencil of the most ingenious designer in the world. +Those ludicrous subjects only which are rich in the humour +of <i>situation</i> are calculated for graphic illustration. +To prove the following anecdotes are not deficient +in this respect, no other appeal is necessary than +to the plates themselves. Look at the breadth of the +humour, the point of the situation, the selection of the +figures, the action, and its accompaniments, and deny +(without a laugh on the face) that this portion of the +work answers the end in view. In all this the writer or +compiler, or whatever he may be called, claims little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span> +merit. That the whole effect is comic, that the persons +are ludicrous, and engaged in laughable groups and surrounded +with objects which tend to broaden the grin, +all this, and a thousand times more, belongs to Mr. +Cruikshank;—the writer only claims the merit of +having suggested to him the materials.</p> + +<p>Some of the <span class="smcap">ten points</span>, now submitted to the public, +arise out of a reprint of that admirable piece of +humour, the <span class="smcap">Jolly Beggars</span> of Burns;—A part of his +works almost unknown to the public, in consequence +of the scrupulousness of the poet's biographer and +editor, who withheld them from the world. Lest we +however should incur the charge, which Dr. Currie apprehended, +we beg leave to prefix the observations on +this subject by the first literary character in the kingdom, +Sir Walter Scott, as they appeared in the <i>Quarterly +Review</i>.</p> + +<p>"Yet applauding, as we do most highly applaud, the +leading principles of Dr. Currie's selection, we are +aware that they sometimes led him into fastidious and +over-delicate rejection of the bard's most spirited and +happy effusions. A thin octavo, published at Glasgow +in 1801, under the title of 'Poems ascribed to Robert +Burns, the Ayrshire bard,' furnishes valuable proofs of +this assertion; it contains, among a good deal of rubbish, +some of his most brilliant poetry. A cantata, in +particular, called <i>The Jolly Beggars</i>, for humorous description +and nice discrimination of character, is inferior +to no poem of the same length in the whole range of +English poetry. The scene, indeed, is laid in the very +lowest department of low life, the actors being a set +of strolling vagrants, met to carouse, and barter their +rags and plunder for liquor in a hedge ale-house. Yet +even in describing the movements of such a group, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span> +native taste of the poet has never suffered his pen to +slide into any thing coarse or disgusting. The extravagant +glee and outrageous frolic of the beggars are +ridiculously contrasted with their maimed limbs, rags, +and crutches—the sordid and squalid circumstances +of their appearance are judiciously thrown into the +shade. Nor is the art of the poet less conspicuous in +the individual figures, than in the general mass. The +festive vagrants are distinguished from each other by +personal appearance and character, as much as any +fortuitous assembly in the higher orders of life. The +group, it must be observed, is of Scottish character, +and doubtless our northern brethren are more familiar +with its varieties than we are; yet the distinctions are +too well marked to escape even the southern. The most +prominent persons are a maimed soldier and his female +companion, a hackneyed follower of the camp, a stroller, +late the consort of an highland ketterer, or sturdy beggar—'but +weary fa' the waefu' woodie!'—Being now +at liberty, she becomes an object of rivalry between a +'pigmy scraper with his fiddle' and a strolling tinker. +The latter, a desperate bandit, like most of his profession, +terrifies the musician out of the field, and is preferred +by the damsel of course. A wandering ballad-singer, +with a brace of doxies, is last introduced upon +the stage. Each of these mendicants sings a song in +character, and such a collection of humorous lyrics, +connected by vivid poetical description, is not perhaps +to be paralleled in the English language. The ditty +chaunted by the Ballad Singer is certainly far superior +to any thing in the <i>Beggar's Opera</i>, where alone we +could expect to find its parallel.</p> + +<p>"We are at a loss to conceive any good reason why +Dr. Currie did not introduce this singular and humorous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> +cantata into his collection. It is true, that in one +or two passages the muse has trespassed slightly upon +decorum, where, in the language of Scottish song,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"High kilted was she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"As she gaed owre the lea."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Something, however, is to be allowed to the nature +of the subject, and something to the education of the +poet: and if from veneration to the names of Swift +and Dryden, we tolerate the grossness of the one, and +the indelicacy of the other, the respect due to that +of Burns, may surely claim indulgence for a few light +strokes of broad humour.</p> + +<p>"Knowing that this, and hoping that other compositions +of similar spirit and tenor, might yet be recovered, +we were induced to think that some of them, at least, +had found a place in the collection given to the public +by Mr. Cromek. But he has neither risqued the censure, +nor gained the applause, which might have belonged +to such an undertaking."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_010" id="i_010"></a> + <img src="images/i_010.jpg" alt="Crowd jamming a doorway" title="Crowd jamming a doorway" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_I" id="POINT_I">POINT I.</a></h2> + +<h3>THE POINT OF HONOUR.</h3> + + +<p>When the American army was at Valley Forge in +the winter of 1777, a captain of the Virginian Line +refused a challenge sent him by a brother officer, alleging +that his life was devoted to the service of his +country, and that he did not think it a point of duty to +risk it to gratify the caprice of any man. This <i>point of +duty</i> gave occasion to a <i>point of humour</i> which clearly +displayed the brilliant <i>points</i> of the officer's character, +and exposed the weak ones of his brothers in the service +in a very <i>pointed</i> manner. His antagonist gave +him the character of a coward through the whole army. +Conscious of not having merited the aspersion, and +discovering the injury he should sustain in the +minds of those unacquainted with him, he repaired +one evening to a general meeting of the officers of +that line. On his entrance, he was avoided by the +company, and the officer who had challenged him, +insolently ordered him to leave the room; a request +which was loudly re-echoed from all parts. He refused, +and asserted that he came there to vindicate his fame; +and after mentioning the reasons which induced him +not to accept the challenge, he applied a large hand +grenade to the candle, and when the fuse had caught<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +fire, threw it on the floor, saying, "Here, gentlemen, this +will quickly determine which of us all dare brave +danger most." At first they stared upon him for a +moment in stupid astonishment, but their eyes soon fell +upon the fuse of the grenade, which was fast burning +down. Away scampered Colonel, General, Ensign, and +Captain, and all made a rush at the door. "Devil +take the hindmost." Some fell, and others made way +over the bodies of their comrades; some succeeded in +getting out, but for an instant there was a general heap +of flesh sprawling at the entrance of the apartment. +Here was a colonel jostling with a subaltern, and there +fat generals pressing lean lieutenants into the boards, +and blustering majors, and squeaking ensigns wrestling +for exit; the size of one and the feebleness of the other +making their chance of departure pretty equal, until +time, which does all things at last, cleared the room and +left the noble captain standing over the grenade with +his arms folded, and his countenance expressing every +kind of scorn and contempt for the train of scrambling +red coats, as they toiled and bustled and bored their +way out of the door.</p> + +<p>After the explosion had taken place, some of them ventured +to return, to take a peep at the mangled remains +of their comrade, whom however to their great surprise +they found alive and uninjured.—When they were all +gone, the captain threw himself flat on the floor as the +only possible means of escape, and fortunately came off +with a whole skin, and a repaired reputation.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_012" id="i_012"></a> + <img src="images/i_012.jpg" alt="Stick figures" title="Stick figures" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_II" id="POINT_II">POINT II.</a></h2> + +<h3>THE SHORT COURTSHIP.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_015" id="i_015"></a> + <img src="images/i_015.jpg" alt="Old man and woman in bed" title="Old man and woman in bed" /> +</div> + +<p>As a gentleman was passing along one of the more retired +streets of London late in the evening, he stumbled +over the body of an old man, whom on examination he +found in a state of excessive inebriation, and who had +in consequence tumbled down and rolled into the +kennel. He had not gone many yards farther when he +found an old woman very nearly in the same circumstances. +It immediately struck Mr. L. that this was some poor +old couple, who, overcome with the fatigues of the day, +had indulged too freely in some restorative beverage, +whether Hodges' or Deady's the historian does not say. +Full of this idea, and animated by his own charitable +disposition, Mr. L. soon made arrangements for the +reception of the poor couple into a neighbouring public +house, where the landlord promised that the senseless +pair should be undressed and placed in a warm and +comfortable bed. To bed they were put. Mr. L. left +them lying side by side, snoring in concert, and likely +to pass together a more harmonious night than perhaps +would have been the case had they possessed the full<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +enjoyment of their senses. L. journeyed homewards filled +with the satisfaction arising from the performance of a +kind deed, and never reflected that there was a possibility +of his having joined a pair whom the laws of God had not +made one. The fact was, that the old man and the old +woman were perfect strangers to each other, and their +being found in a similar situation was purely accidental. +In London, however extraordinary it may appear, many +poor folks get drunk at night, especially Saturday night, +and what is not less wonderful, they are in this state +often unable to preserve their balance—the laws of gravity +exert their influence, and the patient rolls into the +kennel. Soundly—soundly did this late united pair +sleep and snore till morning,—when the light broke in +upon them and disclosed the secret.—Imagine the consternation +of the old lady when the fumes of intoxication +were dissipated, and she opened her eyes upon her snoring +partner—where she was or how she had been put there +she knew not. It was clear she was in bed with a man, +and that was an event which had never happened to her +before,—so she set up a scream, and roused the old +gentleman, whose astonishment was not a jot less than +the lady's. She sat upon end in bed staring at him, +he moved himself into a similar situation and riveted +his eyes upon her, and so they remained for a few instants +both full of perfect wonderment;—at last it struck +the poor lady that this was some monster of a man who +had succeeded in some horrible design upon her honour; +the idea in a moment gave her the look and manner of a +fury, she flung out of bed and roared aloud to the admiration +of all the inmates of the house, who attracted by +her first scream were already peeping in at the door of +the room,—"make me an honest woman, thou wretch," +she cried—"villain that you are,—make an honest woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +of me, or I'll be the death of thee;"—down she sat +upon the bed-stocks, and as she attempted to dress herself +she interlarded her occupation with calling for vengeance +upon her horrible seducer, who sat trembling at +the other side of the bed, vainly attempting in his fright +to insinuate his legs into his old tattered breeches. The +landlord at last interfered with the authority of his station, +and on inquiry found that no breach had been +made which could not be easily repaired. The old +gentleman was asked if he had any objection to take +his fair bedfellow for a helpmate during the remainder +of his life; he stammered out his acquiescence as well +as he could, and the enraged virgin consented to smooth +down her anger on satisfaction being made to her +injured honour. The bargain was soon struck, the +happy pair were bundled off to church, amidst the laughing +shouts of the mob, where a parson waited to make +good the match too precipitately formed by our charitable +friend.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_017" id="i_017"></a> + <img src="images/i_017.jpg" alt="Drinker and torch bearer walking arm in arm" title="Drinker and torch bearer walking arm in arm" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_III" id="POINT_III">POINT III.</a></h2> + +<h3>YES OR NO?</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_019" id="i_019"></a> + <img src="images/i_019.jpg" alt="Child confronting King" title="Child confronting King" /> +</div> + + +<p>Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, was so remarkably +fond of children, that he suffered the sons of the +Prince Royal to enter his apartment whenever they +thought proper. One day, while he was writing in his +closet, the eldest of these princes was playing at shuttlecock +near him. The shuttlecock happened to fall +upon the table at which the King sat, who threw it at +the young prince and continued to write. The shuttlecock +falling on the table a second time, the King threw +it back, looking sternly at the child, who promised that +no accident of the kind should happen again; the +shuttlecock however fell a third time and even upon the +paper on which the king was writing. Frederick then +took the shuttlecock and put it in his pocket: the little +prince humbly asked pardon and begged the King to +return him his shuttlecock. His Majesty refused: the +prince redoubled his entreaties, but no attention was +paid to them; the young prince at length being tired of +begging, advanced boldly towards the King, put his +two hands on his side, and tossing back his little head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +with great haughtiness, said in a threatening tone, "Will +your Majesty give me my shuttlecock, Yes or No?" +The King burst into a fit of laughter, and taking the +shuttlecock out of his pocket, returned it to the prince +saying, "you are a brave boy, <i>you</i> will never suffer +Silesia to be taken from you."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_021" id="i_021"></a> + <img src="images/i_021.jpg" alt="Cow grazing" title="Cow grazing" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_IV" id="POINT_IV">POINT IV.</a></h2> + +<h3>EXCHANGE NO ROBBERY.</h3> + + +<p>Near Taunton, in Somersetshire, lived a sturdy fellow, +by trade a miller, who possessed a handsome and +buxom young woman for his wife. The said dame was +many years the junior of her spouse, and thought that +the neighbouring village contained not a few more +agreeable companions, than the one whom Heaven had +given her for life. Of this circumstance the miller had +some suspicions, and determined to set them at rest one +way or the other. Accordingly, one day he pretended +to set off to buy corn, and told his wife that he should +not be at home that night. The miller departed, and +when the shades of evening afforded some concealment, +in glided, to supply his place at bed and board, a neighbouring +country squire.</p> + +<p>As the village clock struck one that night, and as +the loving pair were wrapped in sleep, a loud knocking +was heard at the door.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_025" id="i_025"></a> + <img src="images/i_025.jpg" alt="Man dining while wife laments" title="Man dining while wife laments" /> +</div> + +<p>The miller had unexpectedly returned home, and the +unfortunate couple within were reduced to despair. The +wit of the female was however equal to the emergency; +the gentleman's clothes were pushed under her own, and +his person was conducted into the kitchen, by the frail +fair one, and there enclosed in a singular place of security.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +The tall house clock, which always forms a part of the +furniture of the "parlour, kitchen, and all," of men of +our miller's rank, was at that time out of order, and +the works had, on the very morning in question, been +conveyed to Taunton, to undergo a thorough repair. +It immediately struck the damsel that her lover could +abide in no safer place than this, until her husband was +asleep, and she could return and let him out. Now +the country squire was a tall and a stout man, with a +jolly rubicund physiognomy. He consequently enclosed +himself in the clock-case with some difficulty, and +when the good woman locked the door of it, as the +only way of keeping it shut, it gave him a nip in the +paunch, which would have extorted a cry under any +other circumstances. As it was, the tightness below +threw all the blood into his countenance, which, for +such was his height, overtopped the wood work of +the case, and appeared exactly at the spot where the +clock usually shewed the hour. So that, had a light +been held up to it, this portentous face would have +borne the appearance of a dark red moon scowling out +of fog and vapours upon a stormy night. This despatched, +the dame commenced her own part with confidence. +She gaped and yawned, and only admitted +the miller till he had cursed and sworn his wife into a +conviction, that he was her lawful husband, and no deceiver +who had mimicked his voice and manner for his +own wicked purposes. Much to the dismay of the +parties already in possession of the house, the miller +insisted upon striking a light, which at length obtaining, +he drove his wife before him up to the bed-room, +and then slily and under pretence of something else, +examined the apartment; and concluded with a thorough +conviction of the groundlessness of his suspicions.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +The wife, overjoyed at getting the candle out of the +kitchen without discovery, was in high good humour, +so that the miller became in excellent spirits too, both +on account of his agreeable reception and the dispersion +of his fears, and as a proof of his state of mind +gave his wife a hearty kiss, and swore that they would +go down and have a cozy bit of supper together before +they went to bed. In vain the poor woman resisted, +the slice of bacon must be broiled and the eggs poached. +With trembling hand she bore the light into the +kitchen, and durst not cast a glance upon the clock case +where the prisoner, full of horror at the return of the +candle, and reduced to a state of insufferable impatience +by his miserable plight, uttered a deep low groan +of despair as they entered the apartment. Fortunately +it was not loud enough to attract the miller's attention, +but thrilled through the heart of his unfortunate spouse. +The happy pair soon began their culinary operations, the +male with a light heart and a hungry appetite, the female +sick and trembling at the disclosure which she +feared was inevitable. All she could do, she did. She +tried to keep up a conversation, she shaded the light, +and she spread rasher after rasher before the all-devouring +miller, who seemed as if intent to display his +prowess before his rival, who was most ruefully and +intently gazing upon him from his window of observation. +By the lady's artful management, the miller sat +with only a side view of the clock, and allowed a few +sympathizing glances to be interchanged between the +unhappy squire and his love, as she spread the tempting +meal before her liege lord. Doubtless they both +thought the miller's appetite was enormous, and in the +calculation of either of them, he had already eat a side +of bacon, when he declared he had done. <i>Now for</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +<i>good luck!</i> inwardly exclaimed the dame, <i>fortune befriend +me, and let me get him up stairs without casting a look upon +that poor deplorable face</i>; which by the bye had lately been +assuming all hues, and within the last two minutes had +turned from a blue red to deadly pale, and back again +to red black; and slight twitches and convulsive motions +were observed in the muscles of his face, as if the poor +unfortunate owner of them was tormented by some body +below, who alternately pricked and pinched him. Oh, +what a weight was taken off the heart of the frail fair one, +and how fervently did she offer up vows of chastity in +the gratitude of the moment, when the miller, having eat +and drank his fill, made a motion for the bed room. +Gladly was she attending him, when, as ill luck would +have it, a <i>loud sneeze</i> was heard in the room, which was +followed by an equally loud scream from the lady of +the miller, who now gave all up for lost. It seemed +that the dust of the clock-case had been disturbed by +the body of the squire, and part of it being dislodged, +had sought refuge in the intricacies of his nostrils. +Hence the wincings and writhings, which, over and +above being abominably nipped, produced the awful +changes recorded above, and at length ended in a +sneeze, which he could no longer restrain. This event +had not the expected issue, for the dame in her fright +threw down the candlestick, which she held in her hand, +and extinguished the light. The good miller, now +drowsy and stupid, chid her for being alarmed at the +sneezing of a <i>cat</i>; and, not waiting for the poking out +of a light from the dying embers, pushed his wife and +himself off to bed, bestowing upon her, by the way, many +of those endearing caresses, which husbands in a good +humour lavish upon their wives; which caresses were +certainly as indifferent to her, as they were doubtless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +disagreeable to her friend in the clock. Release was not +so soon at hand as the parties sanguinely expected, for +though the miller slept, he took as secure a hold of his +faithful dame, as if he had really been aware of the gaol-delivery +she intended to accomplish. To her last resource, +therefore, she was compelled to fly, for the +morning was fast coming on. The miller's sleep was +broken by the loud cries of his wife, who declared she +was so ill, she was sure she should die. She yelled and +screamed till the poor man in despair knew not what +to do, and could only cry out <i>What can I get you, What +can I get you?</i> Now the wily dame well knew that <i>that</i> +would be the best for her complaint which was not in +the house, so she vociferated <i>Brandy, brandy, Oh for +some brandy.</i> The poor husband scrambled up some +clothes, and set off for the nearest public house for some +brandy, which was nearly a mile from his abode. Arriving +there, he knocked up the landlord, who administered +the medicine to him. To pay for which, the distressed +husband put his hand in his breeches' pocket, and much +to his own surprise, pulled out a large bundle of bank +notes, at which he stared in amazement; when the landlord +cried out, Lord! <i>you have got Mr. Farrer's breeches +on</i>. Buckskins, it seems, well known in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_028" id="i_028"></a> + <img src="images/i_028.jpg" alt="Man with candle confronting a wino" title="Man with candle confronting a wino" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"<i>The Devil I have</i>," returned the miller, in a tone +which came up like a groan, as he gazed upon his nether +man. Quickly comprehending the secret of the exchange, +he pocketed the notes, drank up the brandy +for his own consolation, and went home, moralizing his +pensive path, and gave the hypocritical culprit the +soundest beating she ever had in her life. She, poor +soul! who had been charitably employed in the meanwhile, +in letting the bird out of his cage, was not prepared +for this reception; nor did she understand it until +the next morning, when the breeches were cried round +the town by her malignant husband, who also with no +pleasant expression of countenance, made a point of +turning over his newly-acquired riches in her presence.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_029" id="i_029"></a> + <img src="images/i_029.jpg" alt="Town crier with pants on a pole" title="Town crier with pants on a pole" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_V" id="POINT_V">POINT V.</a></h2> + +<h3>THE JOLLY BEGGARS;</h3> + +<h6>OR,</h6> + +<h4>LOVE AND LIBERTY, A CANTATA.</h4> + +<h6>BY ROBERT BURNS.</h6> + + + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_032" id="i_032"></a> + <img src="images/i_032.jpg" alt="Drunk woman kissing a handicap man" title="Drunk woman kissing a handicap man" /> +</div> + +<p class="center">RECITATIVO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When lyart leaves bestrow the yird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or wavering like the Bauckie-bird<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Bedim cauld Boreas' blast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When hailstanes drive wi' bitter skyte,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And infant frosts begin to bite,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In hoary cranreuch drest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ae night at e'en a merry core<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O' randie, gangrel bodies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Posie-Nansie's<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> held the splore<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To drink their orra duddies<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi' quaffing, and laughing,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">They ranted an' they sang;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wi' jumping, an' thumping,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The vera girdle rang.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">First, neist the fire, in auld red rags,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ane sat, weel brac'd wi' mealy bags,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And knapsack a' in order;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His doxy lay within his arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' <i>usquebae</i> an' blankets warm,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">She blinket on her sodger:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' ay he gies the tozie drab<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The tither skelpan kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While she held up her greedy gab<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Just like an aumous<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> dish:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ilk smack still, did crack still,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Just like a cadger's<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> whip;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then staggering, an' swaggering,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">He roar'd this ditty up—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">AIR.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>—<span class="smcap">Soldier's Joy</span>.</p> + + +<p class="center">I.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am a son of Mars, who have been in many wars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shew my cuts and scars wherever I come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i30"><i>Lal de daudle, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">II.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My prenticeship I past, where my leader breath'd his last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abram;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I served out my trade, when the gallant <i>game</i> was play'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Moro low was laid at the sound of the drum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<p class="center">III.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I lastly was with Curtis, among the floating batt'ries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there I left for witness, an arm and a limb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll clatter on my stumps at the sound of a drum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">IV.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now tho' I must beg, with a wooden arm and leg,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a tatter'd rag hanging over my ——,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle and my callet<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when I us'd in scarlet to follow a drum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">V.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What tho' with hoary locks, I must stand the winter shocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the tother bag I sell, and the tother bottle tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could meet a troop of hell at the sound of a drum.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">RECITATIVO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He ended; and the kebars<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> sheuk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Aboon the chorus roar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While frighted rattons backward leuk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' seek the benmost bore<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Merry Andrew i' the neuk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He skirl'd out, <i>encore!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But up arose the martial chuck,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' laid the loud uproar.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> +<p class="center">AIR.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>—<span class="smcap">Sodger Laddie</span>.</p> + + +<p class="center">I.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I once was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still my delight is in proper young men:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No wonder I'm fond of a <i>sodger laddie</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">Sing, <i>Lal de lal</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">II.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His leg was so tight and his cheek was so ruddy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transported was I with my <i>sodger laddie</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">III.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sword I forsook for the sake of the church;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ventur'd the soul, and I risked the body,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas then I prov'd false to my <i>sodger laddie</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">IV.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The regiment at large for a husband I got;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I asked no more but a <i>sodger laddie</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">V.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the <i>peace</i> it reduc'd me to beg in despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I met my old boy at a <i>Cunningham</i> fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rags regimental they flutter'd so gaudy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart it rejoic'd at my <i>sodger laddie</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">VI.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now I have lived—I know not how long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still I can join in a cup and a song:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's to thee, my hero, my <i>sodger laddie</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i30">Sing, <i>Lal de dal</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">RECITATIVO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor Merry Andrew in the neuk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sat guzzling wi' a tinkler hizzie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They mind't na wha the chorus teuk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Between themsels they were sae busy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length wi' drink and courting dizzy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He stoiter'd up an' made a face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then turn'd an' laid a smack on Grizzy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Syne tun'd his pipes wi' grave grimace.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">AIR.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>—<span class="smcap">Auld Sir Simon</span>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Wisdom's a fool when he's fou,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir Knave is a fool in a session;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's there but a prentice, I trow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I am a fool by profession.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My Grannie she bought me a beuk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' I held awa to the school;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear I my talent misteuk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But what will ye hae of a fool.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For drink I would venture my neck;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A hizzie's the half of my craft;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what could ye other expect<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of ane that's avowedly daft.<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I ance was ty'd up like a stirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For civilly swearing and quaffing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ance was abus'd i' the Kirk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For towzing a lass i' my daffin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor Andrew that tumbles for sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let naebody name wi' a jeer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's ev'n, I'm tauld, i' the court,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A <i>Tumbler</i> ca'd the <i>Premier</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Observ'd ye yon reverend lad<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mak faces to tickle the mob;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rails at our mountebank squad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's <i>rivalship</i> just i' the job.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now my conclusion I'll tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For faith I'm confoundedly dry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chiel that's a fool for himsel,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Guid Lord, he's far dafter than I.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_037" id="i_037"></a> + <img src="images/i_037.jpg" alt="Man on soapbox speaking to a crowd" title="Man on soapbox speaking to a crowd" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_VI" id="POINT_VI">POINT VI.</a></h2> + + +<p class="center">RECITATIVO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then neist outspak a raucle carlin<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wha kent fu' weel to cleek the sterlin';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For mony a pursie she had hooked,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' had in mony a well been douked:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her Love had been a <i>Highland laddie</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But weary fa' the waefu' woodie<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' sighs and sobs she thus began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wail her braw <i>John Highlandman</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">AIR.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>—<span class="smcap">O an ye were dead, Gudeman</span>.</p> + + +<p class="center">I.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A highland lad my love was born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lalland laws he held in scorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he still was faithfu' to his clan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My gallant, braw <i>John Highlandman</i>!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">CHORUS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Sing hey my braw John Highlandman!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sing ho my braw John Highlandman!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>There's not a lad in a' the lan'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Was match for my John Highlandman!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> +<p class="center">II.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With his philibeg an' tartan plaid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' guid claymore down by his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ladies' hearts he did trepan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My gallant, braw <i>John Highlandman</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i32"><i>Sing, hey,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">III.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We ranged a' from Tweed to Spey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' liv'd like lords an' ladies gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a lalland face he feared none,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My gallant, braw <i>John Highlandman</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i32"><i>Sing, hey,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">IV.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They banish'd him beyond the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ere the bud was on the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adown my cheeks the pearls ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embracing my <i>John Highlandman</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i32"><i>Sing, hey,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">V.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But och! they catch'd him at the last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bound him in a dungeon fast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My curse upon them every one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They've hang'd my braw <i>John Highlandman</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i32"><i>Sing, hey,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">VI.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now a widow I must mourn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Departed joys that ne'er return;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No comfort but a hearty can,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I think on <i>John Highlandman</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i32"><i>Sing, hey,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">RECITATIVO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A pigmy scraper wi' his fiddle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wha us'd to trystes and fairs to driddle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her strappen limb an' gausy middle,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">(He reach'd na higher,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had hol'd his heartie like a riddle,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">An' blawn't on fire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W' hand on hainch, an' upward e'e,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He croon'd his gamut, <i>one</i>, <i>two</i>, <i>three</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then in an arioso key,<br /></span> +<span class="i18">The wee Apollo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Set off wi' <i>allegretto</i> glee<br /></span> +<span class="i18">His <i>giga solo</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">AIR.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>—<span class="smcap">Whistle owre the lave o't</span>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let me ryke up to dight that tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' go wi' me an' be my <i>dear</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' then your every <i>care</i> and <i>fear</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4">May whistle owre the lave o't.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">CHORUS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>I am a fidler to my trade,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>An' a' the tunes that e'er I play'd,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>The sweetest still to wife or maid,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i8"><i>Was, whistle owre the lave o't.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At kirns an' weddins we'se be there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' O sae nicely's we will fare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll bowse about till Dadie Care<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sing whistle owre the lave o't.<br /></span> +<span class="i32"><i>I am</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_042" id="i_042"></a> + <img src="images/i_042.jpg" alt="Man with rapier confronting another man" title="Man with rapier confronting another man" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sae merrily's the banes we'll pyke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' sun oursells about the dyke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' at our leisure when ye like<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We'll—whistle owre the lave o't.<br /></span> +<span class="i32"><i>I am</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But bless me wi' your heav'n o' charms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while I kittle<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> hair on thairms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hunger, cauld, an' a' sic harms<br /></span> +<span class="i4">May whistle owre the lave o't.<br /></span> +<span class="i32"><i>I am</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">RECITATIVO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her charms had struck a sturdy <i>Caird</i><a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As weel as poor <i>Gutscraper</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He taks the fiddler by the beard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' draws a roosty rapier—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He swoor by a' was swearing worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To speet him like a pliver,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless he would from that time forth<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Relinquish her for ever:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wi' ghastly e'e, poor <i>tweedle-dee</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon his hunkers<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> bended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' pray'd for grace wi' ruefu' face,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' so the quarrel ended;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But tho' his little heart did grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When round the <i>tinker</i> prest her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He feign'd to snirtle in his sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When thus the <i>Caird</i> address'd her<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> +<p class="center">AIR.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>—<span class="smcap">Clout the Caudron</span>.</p> + + +<p class="center">I.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My bonie lass I work in brass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A tinkler is my station;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've travell'd round all Christian ground<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In this my occupation;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've ta'en the gold, I've been enroll'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In many a noble squadron;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But vain they search'd, when off I march'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To go an' clout the caudron.<br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>I've ta'en the gold,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">II.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Despise that shrimp, that wither'd imp,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a' his noise an' caprin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' take a share with those that bear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The budget an' the apron!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' by that stowp, my faith an' houpe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' by that dear Kilbaigie<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If e'er ye want, or meet with scant,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May I ne'er weet my craigie.<br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>An' by that stowp</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">RECITATIVO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Caird prevail'd—th' unblushing fair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In his embraces sunk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Partly wi' love o'ercome sa sair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' partly she was drunk:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sir Violino</i>, with an air,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That show'd a man o' spunk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wish'd unison between the pair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' made the bottle clunk<br /></span> +<span class="i14">To their health that night.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But hurchin Cupid shot a shaft,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That play'd a dame a shavie—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sailor rak'd her fore and aft,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Behind the chicken cavie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lord a wight o' Homer's craft,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tho' limpan wi' the spavie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hirpl'd up an' lap like daft,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An <i>shor'd</i><a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> them <i>Dainty Davie</i><br /></span> +<span class="i16">O'boot that night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He was a care-defying blade,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever Bacchus listed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' fortune sair upon him laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His heart, she ever miss'd it:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had no wish but—to be glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor want but—when he thirsted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hated nought but—to be sad,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' thus the Muse suggested<br /></span> +<span class="i16">His sang that night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">AIR.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>—<span class="smcap">for a' that, an' a' that</span>.</p> + + +<p class="center">I.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am a bard of no regard<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' gentle-folks, an' a' that;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Homer-like, the glowran byke<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Frae town to town I draw that.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">CHORUS.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>For a' that, an' a' that,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>An' twice as muckle's a' that,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I've lost but ane, I've twa behin',</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>I've</i> wife eneugh <i>for a' that.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> +<p class="center">II.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I never drank the Muses' <i>tank</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Castalia's burn an' a' that;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But there it streams, an' richly reams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My <i>Helicon</i> I ca' that.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>For a' that,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">III.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Great love I bear to all the Fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their humble slave, an' a' that;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lordly Will, I hold it still<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A mortal sin to thraw that.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>For a' that,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">IV.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In raptures sweet, this hour we meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wi' mutual love an' a' that;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for how lang the flie may stang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let Inclination law that.<br /></span> +<span class="i20"><i>For a' that,</i> &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">V.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Their tricks an' craft hae put me daft,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They've ta'en me in, an' a' that;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But clear your decks, an' here's <i>the Sex</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I like the jads for a' that.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>For a' that, an a' that,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>An' twice as muckle's a' that,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>My dearest bluid, to do them guid,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>They're welcome till't for a' that.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_048" id="i_048"></a> + <img src="images/i_048.jpg" alt="Singers" title="Singers" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_VII" id="POINT_VII">POINT VII.</a></h2> + + +<p class="center">RECITATIVO.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So sung the <i>Bard</i>—and Nansie's waws<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shook wi' a thunder of applause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Re-echo'd from each mouth!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They toom'd<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> their pokes, they pawn'd their duds<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They scarcely left to coor their fuds,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To quench their lowan drouth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then owre again, the jovial thrang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The poet did request,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lowse his pack an' wale a sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A ballad o' the best.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">He, rising, rejoicing,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Between his <i>twa Debōrahs</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Looks round him, an' found them<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Impatient for the chorus.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + + +<h2><a name="POINT_VIII" id="POINT_VIII">POINT VIII.</a></h2> + + +<p class="center">AIR.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Tune</i>—<span class="smcap">jolly mortals, fill your glasses</span>.</p> + + +<p class="center">I.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See! the smoking bowl before us,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mark our jovial, ragged ring!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round and round take up the chorus,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in raptures let us sing—<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>A fig for those by law protected,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Liberty's <i>a glorious feast!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Courts for cowards were erected,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Churches built to please the priest.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">II.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What is title, what is treasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What is reputation's care?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If we lead a life of pleasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tis no matter how or where.<br /></span> +<span class="i28"><i>A fig</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">III.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With the ready trick and fable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round we wander all the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at night, in barn or stable,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hug our doxies on the hay.<br /></span> +<span class="i28"><i>A fig</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_051" id="i_051"></a> + <img src="images/i_051.jpg" alt="Group gathered in a tavern" title="Group gathered in a tavern" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + + +<p class="center">IV.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Does the train-attended carriage<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' the country lighter rove?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does the sober bed of marriage<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Witness brighter scenes of love?<br /></span> +<span class="i28"><i>A fig</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">V.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life is all a <i>variorum</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We regard not how it goes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let them cant about decorum<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who have character to lose.<br /></span> +<span class="i28"><i>A fig</i>, &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">VI.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here's to <i>budgets</i>, <i>bags</i>, and <i>wallets</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here's to all the wandering train!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's <i>our ragged brats and callets</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One and all cry out, <i>Amen!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>A fig for those by law protected,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6">Liberty's <i>a glorious feast!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Courts for cowards were erected,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Churches built to please the priest.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_053" id="i_053"></a> + <img src="images/i_053.jpg" alt="People at a campfire" title="People at a campfire" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_IX" id="POINT_IX">POINT IX.</a></h2> + +<h3>THE DOWNFALL OF HOLY CHURCH.</h3> + + +<p>In the year of 1460, Revel was governed by a General, +whose name was John of Mengden; a worthy old man, +who loved his glass of wine, and had the gout; for +wine and the gout are sister's children. It was his +custom to ride out occasionally on a black horse down +to the shores of the Baltic, whence he continued his +way to a convent of nuns consecrated to St. Bridget. +This nunnery, which was called Marianthal, was +situated about a mile from the town, and its ruins are +inhabited by owls and ravens.</p> + +<p>On one of these excursions he was accompanied by +the Lord Marshal, Gothard of Plettenberg.</p> + +<p>As they approached the convent wall, the Marshal's +horse became suddenly restive. "Have you heard," +said he, "the strange stories of the subterraneous passage, +and that it winds in intricate mazes round the +cloister?"——"No;" replied John of Mengden, "but +I should like to hear them over a bottle; you shall relate +them to me in the evening." "It may be done +now, and in a few words," rejoined the other; "for we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +stand exactly before the subterraneous passage, or +mouth of the cavern; but for fifty years, not a human +foot has advanced beyond the bottom of the steps, +there the torches are always blown out."</p> + +<p>The burgomaster of Revel, who was then with them, +made a cross on his breast, and confirmed the statement. +"Sometimes," continued Gothard, "are heard, +during the night, the sounds of soft music, arising +slowly and melodiously from the cave, like the sweet +tones of musical glasses, with an accompaniment of the +songs of angels. The holy sisters of the convent are +frequent listeners to this divine harmony, though none +of the words can be understood." "Let the venerable +Lady Abbess come down to me," said the general, as +he alighted from his horse, and placed his glove in his +sword-belt. The Abbess now appeared, veiled. She +modestly curtsied to the knight, and presented him +with a cup of Spanish wine. The old General laid himself +down on the grass, and asked the sainted lady if +she could give him any information relative to the subterraneous +passage? The Abbess replied in the affirmative, +adding a number of particulars concerning what +she and her pious sisters had seen,—and fancied they +had seen—heard, and fancied they had heard.</p> + +<p>"So God and St. Vitus help me!" exclaimed the +governor, "I will myself make an attempt to descend +into the cavern; give me a lighted, consecrated torch."</p> + +<p>The burgomaster crossed himself all over. A cold +shivering seized him; the only vault into which he had +been accustomed to descend, was the town-cellar, which +was haunted by none but <i>choice spirits</i>, with which he +was familiar.</p> + +<p>The lady Abbess entreated the old man not to undertake +so rash an enterprize; and assured him, that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +spirits of former times, unlike those of the present day, +would not allow themselves to be sported with. But +in arguing with the brave old General, they talked to +the wind which blew over the Baltic. The consecrated +torches were brought, the corpulent General repeated +an Ave-Maria, recommended himself to St. Vitus, his +protecting Saint, and courageously entered the mysterious +passage. The sound of his feet was still heard +on the steps; his breathing was still audible, and the +glimmer of his torch played on the damp walls. On a +sudden all was silent, and the light disappeared. The +listeners above were on the stretch of attention. Gothard +was stationed on the upper step; the burgomaster +a few paces further back; and behind him stood the +Abbess, her rosary running through her fingers. They +listened, but all was still! "Holloa there, John of +Mengden!—how fare you?" thundered the voice of +Gothard; yet all was still as the grave. The listeners +were alarmed; they inclined their ears; they stood +lightly on tip-toe; they restrained their breath—not a +sound ascended. The cavern yawned before them, and +all was silent below; "Holy St. Bridget! what can have +happened? Let the priests be summoned, and mass be +said, to appease the spirits!"</p> + +<p>The lady Abbess hastened to the convent, rang the +chapel-bell, when all the pious sisterhood hurried from +their cells, fell upon their bare knees, chastizing themselves, +and praying to heaven for mercy towards the old +General. The burgomaster threw himself upon his +horse, and trotted back to the town to impart the terrible +news to his wife, children and domestics. Gothard, +who was a courageous knight, alone remained, absorbed +in gloomy reflection, leaning against the wall, with his +eyes fixed on the darkness beneath. Thus he continued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +during two hours. At last he thought he heard on +the steps some one breathing and struggling.—"John +of Mengden!" he vociferated—"are you alive, or +dead?"—"I am alive!" replied the General, half breathless, +as he stumbled up the steps. "Thanks to God +and St. Bridget!—we have been in agony on your account. +Where have you been? What have you heard +or seen?" The General then related that he had quietly +descended, with the consecrated taper in his hand; +that his heart beat a little as he advanced; that a cold +shiver had begun to seize him; but that he took courage, +as his taper burnt always clear and bright: that +at length he stood on the bottom step, and looked down +an endless passage, doubtful whether, under the protection +of St. Bridget, he should move forward or backward; +that suddenly he was surrounded by a lukewarm +breeze, mild and fragrant, as if wafted over a +bed of flowers, which in a moment extinguished his +taper, and so clouded his senses, that he sunk like a +dead man on the steps, and then lay a considerable +time in a sort of trance; that at last he awoke again, +and it appeared to him as if he were gently moved by +a warm hand, though he knew not where he was, nor +what had happened to him; that he stretched out his +hands, and felt nothing but the cold stone; but that, +as a little daylight glimmered upon him from above, he +composed his spirits, and began to creep with difficulty +up the steps; that when on them he was perfectly recovered, +feeling only a slight oppression in the head, +similar to the effect of intoxication.</p> + +<p>"Well, brother," said he to the lord-marshal, "will +not you also make the attempt, and try whether it will +not succeed better with you."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gothard of Plettenberg demurred: notwithstanding +he never feared, in former times, a knight of flesh and +bone, as long as he was able to wield his sword; yet, +with respect to ghosts, a very just exception was allowed; +and a knight might tremble in the dark like an old +woman, without any stain upon his honor, or impeachment +of his valour. Now a days, the matter is quite +altered, and a man may fear any thing but ghosts.</p> + +<p>"By my sword," said the governor, as he was returning +home, "I will investigate the causes of this +mystery. I must know from whose mouth proceeded the +gentle breath, that smelt fragrant as the plants of the +east, and yet had force enough to extinguish the flame +of the consecrated taper, and even to confuse my head, +as though I had been drunk."</p> + +<p>He instantly sent for Henry of Uxkull, bishop of +Revel, and the Abbot of Pardis. Being arrived, they +were entertained at a large oak table, and quaffed wine +from the family goblet. They listened to the fearful +story of their host, with their fat hands folded upon their +huge bellies, and shook their heads with significant +silence.</p> + +<p>Having well weighed the matter, knitted their brows +and assumed an air of importance, they finally agreed +<i>that they knew not what to think of it</i>. Each then waddled +to his home and thought no more of the mysterious +cavern.</p> + +<p>But it was not so with the General. He could not +rest. His fancy was on the rack, to account for the +mystery. On the next morning, he despatched letters +to the Archbishop of Riga, to a learned canon, and two +pious deans of the holy church of Riga—stating "that +a surprising incident had obliged him to have recourse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +to their piety and wisdom, and entreating that they +would be at Revel on St. Egidius's day, to discuss in +christian humility this weighty affair."</p> + +<p>They came on the appointed day: for they were +aware that the cellar of the Governor contained excellent +wine, and that his was no niggard hospitality. The +archbishop of Revel, and the Abbot of Pardis, were +likewise invited to assist, who failed not at the proper +hour to present themselves at the castle. An elegant +repast had been prepared for them, bumpers went cheerily +round to the prosperity of Holy Church, and to +the perpetual bloom of the German order of religion.</p> + +<p>When their spiritual stomachs were sufficiently +gorged, the General thus addressed them: "Reverend +and pious fathers! thus and thus it happened to me +and my friend here, Gothard of Plettenberg," recounting +his story—"What is to be done to liberate the +spirits who wander and breathe in the subterraneous +passage?"</p> + +<p>"They must be driven out by force," replied the +archbishop of Riga, "and the power to do this was +given to bishops from above."</p> + +<p>"A wisp of hay should be steeped in holy water," +added the canon, "with which the steps of the dark +passage should be sprinkled."</p> + +<p>One of the deans advised that "the little chest with +the Egyptian hieroglyphics, which was kept as a relic +in the convent of St. Bridget, should be taken to the +cavern."</p> + +<p>The other dean was of opinion that the spirits should +be allowed to continue without molestation so long as +they only wandered and breathed.</p> + +<p>The archbishop of Revel was also of the same sentiment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +but the Abbot of Pardis applauded this idea of +the Egyptian hieroglyphics.</p> + +<p>Last of all, the old General proposed that they should +immediately ride to the beach, and employ the arms of +the church against the inhabitants of the subterraneous +passage. The wine had imparted its spirit to the holy +fathers; and they now felt courage to engage, if necessary, +even with the fiends of hell.</p> + +<p>Within half an hour they were at the convent gate!</p> + +<p>Three times were the consecrated torches borne +round by the archbishop, who, muttering between his +teeth, dipped the wisp into a large ewer of holy water, +and plentifully besprinkled all present. Thus spiritually +armed, they silently and cautiously approached +the entrance of the cavern. Here a question arose, +"who should go down first?" Those who were at home +were unwilling to rob the strangers of the honor of precedence. +The deans drew back, as being merely subalterns +in the church, out of respect to their bishop. +The archbishop bowed to the right learned canon, and +he bowed to the rest. The General became impatient, +and forced the archbishop down the steps. The rest +followed with beating hearts and tottering knees.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_061" id="i_061"></a> + <img src="images/i_061.jpg" alt="Priests falling down a stair" title="Priests falling down a stair" /> +</div> + +<p>Each carried in his hand a consecrated taper; and +with a rosary hanging at his elbow, sprinkled the walls +with drops of holy water. The last of the procession was +the Abbot of Pardis, who, grown unwieldy by the luxurious +diet of the church, could scarcely drag his short +puffed legs after his fat and bulky paunch. The steps +too were not only small, but damp and slippery; +whence it happened, that on the second step the Abbot +lost his footing, and falling with his whole weight upon +Henry of Uxkull, they both fell upon the last dean:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +all three on the first dean; all four on the canon; all +five upon the archbishop of Riga; when the whole +troop rolled helter skelter down the steps, and plumped +to the bottom like so many sacks, there remaining +senseless! The consecrated tapers were extinguished, +and the venerable group were veiled by a sort of Egyptian +darkness. The General, who remained above, +heard the tremendous rumbling, to which succeeded a +dead silence. For two hours he listened, called on +each by name, and waited in vain for a reply. His voice +alone was returned to him in a dull and hollow echo. +The only sound which met his eager listening, was +that of the terrified bat, flitting in the depths of the +cavern; or, at intervals, the scream of the frightened +owl.</p> + +<p>He was a man of uncommon courage, and he resolved +to descend once more himself, to see what was become +of his guests; but as a prelude to this perilous +expedition, he determined to enliven his natural spirits +by a draught of generous wine. As he vociferated—"a +cup of wine," to the groom who held his horse, the +word <span class="smcap">Wine</span> reached the ears of the holy men—they disentangled +themselves from each other, scrambled up, +their foreheads bedewed with the sweat of terror, and +when they had recovered themselves, they confessed +unanimously <i>that they were not able to unravel the mystery</i>.</p> + +<p>Thus ended the second attempt to gain a more intimate +acquaintance with the spirits of the subterraneous +passage, and thenceforward no one was bold enough to +tread the magic ground.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="POINT_X" id="POINT_X">POINT X.</a></h2> + +<h3>A VISIT WITHOUT FORM.</h3> + + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_068" id="i_068"></a> + <img src="images/i_068.jpg" alt="Man sneaking in a window" title="Man sneaking in a window" /> +</div> + +<p>When the Cardinal Bernis resided at Rome in the +capacity of Ambassador from France, he bore the highest +character for sanctity—yet the Cardinal was a man, +though a churchman; and churchmen are sometimes not +invulnerable to the shafts of love. A pair of speaking +black eyes like those of the Princess B., have before +now made sad havoc in the heart of the votary of celibacy. +The lady was conscious of her own charms, +but being married to the man she loved, instead of +setting them off by certain little manœuvres which some +ladies perfectly understand how to put in practice, she +carefully avoided giving any encouragement to the Cardinal, +whose constant attendance upon her began to give +her some uneasiness. At length the Cardinal, finding +that his visits, attentions, <i>cadeaux</i>, and fine speeches had +no effect, determined upon seeking an opportunity of +making the lady sensible of the excess of his passion. +One morning the Princess, on returning from mass, in +her haste to avoid a violent shower of rain, tripped as +she was getting out of her carriage, and sprained her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +ancle. The Cardinal, who by his spies was informed +of every step the Princess took, had attended at mass +also; and as he was following the Princess, unobserved, +he saw the accident and ran to her assistance, raised +her into the carriage, and very humbly entreated her to +allow him the honour of seeing her safe home. His +Excellency was not to be refused consistently with +etiquette, so the poor Princess was under the necessity +of hearing all the pretty things the Ambassador had +reserved for the occasion. All his protestations and entreaties +proved fruitless, and the poor lady arrived at +the palace almost exhausted with the alarm the conversation +had caused her. She now endeavoured with +all care to avoid receiving the Cardinal's visits, but the +old gentleman's amorous plans were not to be thwarted.—He +still found means of seeing her, and again +attacked her with his vows and protestations, so that the +lady, unable to bear it any longer, determined to inform +the Prince, and related to him all the circumstances of +the affair. The Prince was enraged, and threatened +all kinds of vengeance against the lover; but however, +when the first burst of passion had a little subsided, he +said to her, "We are, my love, in a very aukward +situation, for the Cardinal being Ambassador his person +is sacred; besides we should have the whole consistory +and his holiness at their head, thundering excommunication +upon us. However, I will think of some +scheme of cooling the passion of this holy gentleman." +He accordingly suggested that she should write word +to the Cardinal, that as her husband was going that evening +to his Villa near Tivoli, to order some improvement +to be made which would detain him the best part of next +day, she had determined to admit a visit from him; but +that in order to keep the matter a secret from the servants,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +she desired him to come at midnight; that she +would fix a silken ladder at her room window which +looked into the garden, whence he might easily ascend +into the anti-room, where he would find the door open +that led into her own room. The reader will naturally +conceive the transports which this delicious billet +excited in the worthy Cardinal. He danced, and leaped +and capered about for joy, rang the bell, gave contradictory +orders, and convinced his valet that he was +mad. He had the sense however to direct a suit of his +finest linen to be prepared, and to countermand the +order for his carriage, for he bethought himself he had +better go privately. How tedious did the hours, which +intervened before the time of appointment, appear to +our ardent lover, and when the clock struck eleven he +could no longer wait. It was a good distance, he must +be there in time, not a second too late; therefore off he +set after taking some precautions against his sacred +person being discovered. He arrives, panting with love +and hope; the burning of Mongibello could scarcely +exceed the conflagration within him. He gets to the +garden-gate. One cannot think of every thing. The +Princess in her flurry had forgotten to order the garden-gate +to be left open. What was to be done? The wall +was not high; but must his Eminence endanger his +sacred person? Love, however, the sovereign ruler, who +makes even cowards heroes, animated him. It was +dreadfully dark; but luckily, in feeling for the height +of the wall, the anxious lover found an aperture in it +large enough to admit the foot: into this he stepped, +gave a spring, and got to the top; and then slid down +the other side, not however without losing his hat and +cloak, which owing to the darkness of the night he +could not find again, nor was he aware, for the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +reason, how he was daubed with mortar and brick-dust. +In this pickle, our Adonis made the best of his way to +find the ladder, tumbling over orange-trees and rosebushes, +to the manifest injury of his cassock, which +began to hang about him in rags. At last he reached +the ladder, seized hold of it, stopped, panted a while +for breath, and then up he went. He had just got one +leg through the window, when the two large folding +doors of the apartment flew open, and fifteen or twenty +servants with lighted torches in their hands presented +themselves before him. The Prince, at their head, ran +up to the window, and with all courtesy helped in the +astonished Cardinal, and turning to the servants said, +"Scoundrels! is it thus you pay respect to the sacred +person of the Cardinal Bernis? Is it thus, by your negligence, +that you compel his Eminence, when coming +to my wife, to venture his precious life upon a slight +ladder and force him through the window in this miserable +plight?" Conceive the situation of the bald-pated, +cloakless, and tattered Cardinal, as he stood +ashamed and terrified before the jeering Prince and his +twenty torchbearers. His trembling knees could scarcely +support him, as, half dead with fright, shame, and disappointment, +he sneaked out of the room, still lighted +by the torches and bowed out by the Prince, who continued +to apologize for the carelessness of his servants, +much to the annoyance of the poor Cardinal, whose +misery was heightened by one stroke more; for, as he +was huddling off, he just caught the face of the Princess, +peeping through the opening of a door with some +friends, all almost convulsed with laughter.</p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figcenter" > + <a name="i_070" id="i_070"></a> + <img src="images/i_070.jpg" alt="Dog cowering away" title="Dog cowering away" /> +</div> + +<h6>LONDON:<br /> +Printed by D. S. Maurice, Fenchurch Street.</h6> + +<hr class="chap" /> + + +<h2><a name="Works_Illustrated_by_George_Cruikshank" id="Works_Illustrated_by_George_Cruikshank"><span class="oldenglish">Works Illustrated by George Cruikshank.</span></a></h2> + +<h6>PUBLISHED BY JAMES ROBINS AND CO.</h6> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">GERMAN POPULAR STORIES,</p> + +<p class="center">Collected by <span class="smcap">MM. Grimm</span>, from Oral Tradition. Fourth Edition, with 12 Etchings by +<span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>, price 7s.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>'This Book ought to be in the possession of the man as a curiosity, and of the child as an amusement.'—New +Monthly Magazine.</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">A SECOND VOLUME OF GERMAN POPULAR STORIES,</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by <span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>, price 7s.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>'Of the first volume of this entertaining publication we spoke very favorably; and what with the German +varieties in this sequel of well known nursery tales, and the clever designs of George Cruikshank, certain it is +this volume the second deserves almost equal praise.'—Literary Gazette.</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">POINTS OF HUMOUR,</p> + +<p>Illustrated by a Series of Designs, by <span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>, on Copper and Wood. Parts +1 and 2, Royal 8vo. price 8s.; coloured 12s. 6d.: and India proofs 12s. 6d. each.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">GREENWICH HOSPITAL,</p> + +<p>A Series of <span class="smcap">Naval Sketches</span>, descriptive of the Life of a Man-of-War's-Man, by an <span class="smcap">Old +Sailor</span>. Printed in demy 4to. with Twelve characteristic Illustrations on Copper by <span class="smcap">George +Cruikshank</span>, coloured in Costume, in addition to numerous Engravings on Wood, price +One Guinea, boards.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>'In compliment to the inexhaustible talent and drollery of George Cruikshank, we have put this article at +the head of our department of the Fine Arts; and it well deserves that grace. Yet it must not be fancied +that we mean to derogate from the literary merits of the "Old Sailor," whose Smollet-like humour and genuine +nautical characteristics so often occupied that portion of the Literary Gazette in which we endeavour to lighten +and enliven its graver pages. Indeed, these Tales (or the far greater number of them) now so cleverly brought +together, were originally printed in our columns; where they obtained so much popularity, as to lead +to their being republished in this collected form, with the addition of the artist's merry, grotesque, and laughable +designs.'—Literary Gazette.</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">MORE MORNINGS AT BOW STREET,</p> + +<p>A New Series of the most humorous and entertaining Reports, by <span class="smcap">John Wight</span>, of the Morning +Herald. With a Frontispiece and twenty-five Illustrations by <span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>. +10s. 6d. A few copies are printed on India paper, price 15s.</p> + +<p>India and plain impressions of the Cuts may be had separately, price 10s. 6d. and 6s.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">TALES OF IRISH LIFE,</p> + +<p>Illustrative of the Manners, Customs, and Condition of the People, collected during a residence +of several years in various parts of Ireland, with Illustrations by <span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>. +In 2 vols, price 12s.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>'There is much matter worthy of earnest national attention in these fictions; while, at the same time, they +are characteristic and amusing'—Literary Gazette.</p> + +<p>'The designs of George Cruikshank, in this work, are sufficient to render any tales immortal.'—British Press.</p> + +<p>'A hue of nature pervades them—an air of reality invests them;—life, actual life, is stamped upon the incidents +and upon the characters.'—Dublin Morning Register.</p> + +<p>'These volumes are calculated to do much good.'—Dublin and London Magazine.</p> + +<p>'We recommend the whole to the perusal of our readers, as highly worthy of their attention.'—Critical Gazette.</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">HANS OF ICELAND,</p> + +<p>A Tale, with four highly finished Etchings by <span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>. Price 7s. 6d.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Some say this monster was a witch,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some say he was a devil.'—Dragon of Wantley.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<blockquote> + +<p>'Really Hans of Iceland is altogether one of the best productions of its class which we have seen. There is a +power about it resembling one of Fuseli's pictures, and Cruikshank's designs are capital.'—Literary Gazette.</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">THE HUMOURIST:</p> + +<p>A Chaste Collection of Entertaining Tales, Anecdotes, Epigrams, Witty Sayings, &c. Original +and Selected. Embellished with Forty coloured Plates, Drawn and Engraved by +<span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>. In Four Volumes, 5s each.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">ECCENTRIC TALES,</p> + +<p>From the German of <span class="smcap">W. F. Von Kosewitz</span>. Embellished with twenty coloured Illustrations +by <span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>, from Sketches by <span class="smcap">Alfred Crowquill</span>. Price 15s.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF LORD BYRON,</p> + +<p class="center">by <span class="smcap">Geo. Clinton, Esq.</span> with a Portrait and Forty illustrations, by <span class="smcap">Geo. Cruikshank</span>.</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="fn"> + +<h2><a name="FOOTNOTES" id="FOOTNOTES">FOOTNOTES:</a></h2> + + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The bat.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> A whiskey house.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Frolic.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Superfluous rags.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> A plate for receiving alms.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> A man who travels the country, with his wares on the back of a +horse or ass.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Wench.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Rafters.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Deepest recess.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> A sturdy raw-boned dame.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> The gallows.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> While I rub a horse-hair bow upon cat-gut.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Tinker.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Haunches.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> A well known kind of whiskey.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Promised.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> The multitude.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Opened.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Rags.</p></div> + +</div> + +<div class="tn"> + +<h2><a name="Transcribers_Notes" id="Transcribers_Notes">Transcriber's Notes:</a></h2> + +<ul class="corrections"> +<li>Obvious punctuation and spelling errors have been fixed throughout.</li> +</ul></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44571 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |