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diff --git a/old/plpm10.txt b/old/plpm10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f7e46d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/plpm10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7205 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Playful Poems, by Henry Morley + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Playful Poems + +Author: Henry Morley + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6332] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on November 27, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PLAYFUL POEMS *** + + + + +This etext was produced by Les Bowler, St. Ives, Dorset. + + + + +PLAYFUL POEMS, (by various authors) +EDITED AND WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + +INTRODUCTION + +CHAUCER'S MANCIPLE'S TALE OF PHOEBUS AND THE CROW + Modernised by LEIGH HUNT. +CHAUCER'S RIME OF SIR THOPAS + Modernised by Z. A. Z. +CHAUCER'S FRIAR'S TALE; OR, THE SUMNER AND THE DEVIL + Modernised by LEIGH HUNT. +CHAUCER'S REVE'S TALE + Modernised by R. H. HORNE. +CHAUCER'S POEM OF THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE + Modernised by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. +GOWER'S TREASURE TROVE + Modernised from the fifth book of the CONFESSIO AMANTIS. +LYDGATE'S LONDON LICKPENNY + +LYDGATE'S BICORN AND CHICHEVACHE + +DUNBAR'S BEST TO BE BLYTH + +DRAYTON'S DOWSABELL + +DRAYTON'S NYMPHIDIA + +POPE'S RAPE OF THE LOCK + +COWPER'S JOHN GILPIN + +BURNS'S TAM O'SHANTER + +HOOD'S DEMON SHIP + +HOOD'S TALE OF A TRUMPET + +GLOSSARY + +NOTES + +THE GAME OF OMBRE + + + +INTRODUCTION + + + +The last volume of these "Companion Poets" contained some of +Chaucer's Tales as they were modernised by Dryden. This volume +contains more of his Tales as they were modernised by later poets. +In 1841 there was a volume published entitled, "The Poems of +Geoffrey Chaucer Modernized." Of this volume, when it was first +projected, Wordsworth wrote to Moxon, his publisher, on the 24th of +February 1840: "Mr. Powell, my friend, has some thought of +preparing for publication some portion of Chaucer modernised, as far +and no farther than is done in my treatment of 'The Prioress' Tale.' +That would, in fact, be his model. He will have coadjutors, among +whom, I believe, will be Mr. Leigh Hunt, a man as capable of doing +the work well as any living writer. I have placed at my friend Mr. +Powell's disposal three other pieces which I did long ago, but +revised the other day. They are 'The Manciple's Tale,' 'The Cuckoo +and the Nightingale,' and twenty-four stanzas of 'Troilus and +Cressida.' This I have done mainly out of my love and reverence for +Chaucer, in hopes that, whatever may be the merits of Mr. Powell's +attempt, the attention of other writers may be drawn to the subject; +and a work hereafter produced, by different persons, which will +place the treasures of one of the greatest of poets within the reach +of the multitude, which now they are not. I mention all this to you +because, though I have not given Mr. Powell the least encouragement +to do so, he may sound you as to your disposition to undertake the +publication. I have myself nothing further to do with it than I +have stated. Had the thing been suggested to me by any number of +competent persons twenty years ago, I would have undertaken the +editorship and done much more myself, and endeavoured to improve the +several contributions where they seemed to require it. But that is +now out of the question." + +Wordsworth had made his versions of Chaucer in the year 1801. "The +Prioress's Tale" had been published in 1820, so that only the three +pieces he had revised for his friend's use were available, and of +these the Manciple's Tale was withdrawn, the version by Leigh Hunt +(which is among the pieces here reprinted) being used. The volume +was published in 1841, not by Moxon but by Whitaker. Wordsworth's +versions of "The Cuckoo and the Nightingale" (here reprinted), and +of a passage taken from "Troilus and Cressida," were included in it. +Leigh Hunt contributed versions of the Manciple's Tale and the +Friar's Tale (both here reprinted), and of the Squire's Tale. +Elizabeth A. Barrett, afterwards Mrs. Browning, contributed a +version of "Queen Annelida and False Arcite." Richard Hengist Horne +entered heartily into the venture, modernised the Prologue to the +Canterbury Tales, the Reve's Tale, and the Franklin's, and wrote an +Introduction of more than a hundred pages, to which Professor +Leonhard Schmitz added thirty-two pages of a Life of Chaucer. +Robert Bell, to whom we were afterwards indebted for an "Annotated +Edition of the English Poets," modernised the Complaint of Mars and +Venus. Thomas Powell, the editor, contributed his version of the +Legends of Ariadne, Philomene, and Phillis, and of "The Flower and +the Leaf," and a friend, who signed only as Z. A. Z, dealt with "The +Rime of Sir Thopas." + +After the volume had appeared, Wordsworth thus wrote of it to +Professor Henry Reed of Philadelphia: "There has recently been +published in London a volume of some of Chaucer's tales and poems +modernised; this little specimen originated in what I attempted with +'The Prioress' Tale,' and if the book should find its way to America +you will see in it two further specimens from myself. I had no +further connection with the publication than by making a present of +these to one of the contributors. Let me, however, recommend to +your notice the Prologue and the Franklin's Tale. They are both by +Mr. Horne, a gentleman unknown to me, but are--the latter in +particular--very well done. Mr. Leigh Hunt has not failed in the +Manciple's Tale, which I myself modernised many years ago; but +though I much admire the genius of Chaucer as displayed in this +performance, I could not place my version at the disposal of the +editor, as I deemed the subject somewhat too indelicate for pure +taste to be offered to the world at this time of day. Mr. Horne has +much hurt this publication by not abstaining from the Reve's Tale. +This, after making all allowance for the rude manners of Chaucer's +age, is intolerable; and by indispensably softening down the +incidents, he has killed the spirit of that humour, gross and +farcical, that pervades the original. When the work was first +mentioned to me, I protested as strongly as possible against +admitting any coarseness and indelicacy, so that my conscience is +clear of countenancing aught of that kind. So great is my +admiration of Chaucer's genius, and so profound my reverence for +him. . . for spreading the light of Literature through his native +land, that, notwithstanding the defects and faults in this +publication, I am glad of it, as a means for making many acquainted +with the original, who would otherwise be ignorant of everything +about him but his name." + +Wordsworth's objection to the Manciple's Tale from Ovid's +Metamorphoses was an afterthought. He had begun by offering his +version of it for publication in this volume. His objection to +Horne's treatment of the Reve's Tale was reasonable enough. The +original tale was the sixth novel in the ninth day of the Decameron, +and probably was taken by Chaucer from a Fabliau by Jean de Boves, +"De Gombert et des Deux Clercs." The same story has been imitated +in the "Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles," and in the "Berceau" of La +Fontaine. Horne's removal from the tale of everything that would +offend a modern reader was designed to enable thousands to find +pleasure in an old farcical piece that would otherwise be left +unread. + +Chaucer's "Rime of Sir Thopas" was a playful jest on the long-winded +story-telling of the old romances, and had specially in mind Thomas +Chestre's version of Launfal from Marie of France, and the same +rhymer's romance of "Ly Beaus Disconus," who was Gingelein, a son of +Gawain, called by his mother, for his beauty, only Beaufis (handsome +son); but when he offered himself in that name to be knighted by +King Arthur, he was knighted and named by him Li Beaus Disconus (the +fair unknown). This is the method of the tediousness, in which it +showed itself akin to many a rhyming tale. + +"And for love of his fair vis +His mother cleped him Beaufis, + And none other name; +And himselve was full nis, +He ne axed nought y-wis + What he hight at his dame. + +"As it befel upon a day, +To wood he went on his play + Of deer to have his game; +He found a knight, where he lay +In armes that were stout and gay, + Y-slain and made full tame. + +"That child did off the knightes wede, +And anon he gan him schrede + In that rich armour. +When he hadde do that dede, +To Glastenbury he gede, + There lay the King Arthour. + +"He knelde in the hall +Before the knightes all, + And grette hem with honour, +And said: 'Arthour, my lord, +Grant me to speak a word, + I pray thee, par amour. + +"'I am a child uncouth, +And come out of the south, + And would be made a knight, +Lord, I pray thee nouthe, +With thy merry mouthe, + Grant me anon right.' + +"Then said Arthour the king, +'Anon, without dwelling, + Tell me thy name aplight! +For sethen I was ybore, +Ne found I me before + None so fair of sight.' + +"That child said, 'By Saint Jame, +I not what is my name; + I am the more nis; +But while I was at hame +My mother, in her game, + Cleped me Beaufis.' + +"Then said Arthour the king, +'This is a wonder thing + By God and Saint Denis! +When he that would be knight +Ne wot not what he hight, + And is so fair of vis. + +"'Now will I give him a name +Before you all in same, + For he is so fair and free, +By God and by Saint Jame, +So cleped him ne'er his dame, + What woman so it be. + +"'Now clepeth him all of us, +Li Beaus Disconus, + For the love of me! +Then may ye wite a rowe, +"'The Faire Unknowe,' + Certes, so hatte he" + +John Gower's "Confessio Amantis" was a story book, like the +Canterbury Tales, with a contrivance of its own for stringing the +tales together, and Gower was at work on it nearly about the time +when his friend Chaucer was busy with his Pilgrims. The story here +extracted was an old favourite. It appeared in Greek about the year +800, in the romance of Barlaam and Josaphat. It was told by Vincent +of Beauvais in the year 1290 in his "Speculum Historiale;" and it +was used by Boccaccio for the first tale of the tenth day of his +"Decameron." + +Chaucer, Gower, Lydgate were the old poetical triumvirate, though +Lydgate, who was about thirty years old when Chaucer died, has +slipped much out of mind. His verses on the adventures of the +Kentish rustic who came to London to get justice in the law courts, +and his words set to the action of an old piece of rustic mumming, +"Bicorn and Chichevache," here represent his vein of playfulness. +He was a monk who taught literature at Bury St. Edmunds, and was +justly looked upon as the chief poet of the generation who lived +after Chaucer's death. + +Next follows in this volume a scrap of wise counsel to take life +cheerfully, from the Scottish poet, William Dunbar. He lived at the +Scottish Court of James the Fourth when Henry the Seventh reigned in +England, and who was our greatest poet of the north country before +Burns. + +Next we come to the poets "who so did please Eliza and our James," +and represent their playfulness by Drayton's "Dowsabell," and that +most exquisite of fairy pieces, his "Nymphidia," where Oberon +figures as the mad Orlando writ small, and Drayton earned his claim +to be the Fairies' Laureate, though Herrick, in the same vein, +followed close upon him. Michael Drayton, nearly of an age with +Shakespeare, was, like Shakespeare, a Warwickshire man. Empty +tradition says that Shakespeare died of a too festive supper shared +with his friend Drayton, who came to visit him. + +Then follows in this volume the playful treatment of a quarrel +between friends, in Pope's "Rape of the Lock." Lord Petre, aged +twenty, audaciously cut from the head of Miss Arabella Fermor, +daughter of Mr. Fermor of Tusmore, a lock of her hair while she was +playing cards in the Queen's rooms at Hampton Court. Pope's friend, +Mr. Caryll, suggested to him that a mock heroic treatment of the +resulting quarrel might restore peace, and Pope wrote a poem in two +cantos, which was published in a Miscellany in 1712, Pope's age then +being twenty-four. But as epic poems required supernatural +machinery, Pope added afterwards to his mock epic the machinery of +sylphs and gnomes, suggested to him by the reading of a French +story, "Le Comte de Gabalis," by the Abbe Villars. Here there were +sylphs of the air and gnomes of the earth, little spirits who would +be in right proportion to the substance of his poem, which was +refashioned into five cantos, and republished as we have it now in +February 1714. + +"John Gilpin" was written by William Cowper in the year 1782, when +Lady Austin was lodging in the Vicarage at Olney, and spent every +evening with Cowper and Mrs. Unwin, cheering Cowper greatly by her +liveliness. One evening she told the story of John Gilpin's ride in +a way that tickled the poet's fancy, set him laughing when he woke +up in the night, and obliged him to turn it next day into ballad +rhyme. Mrs. Unwin's son sent it to the Public Advertiser, for the +poet's corner. It was printed in that newspaper, and thought no +more of until about three years later. Then it was suggested to a +popular actor named Henderson, who gave entertainments of his own, +that this piece would tell well among his recitations. He +introduced it into his entertainments, and soon all the town was +running after John Gilpin as madly as the six gentlemen and the +post-boy. + +John Gilpin's flight is followed in this volume by the flight of Tam +o' Shanter. Burns wrote "Tam o' Shanter" at Elliesland, and himself +considered it the best of all his poems. He told the story to +Captain Grose, as it was current among the people in his part of the +country, its scene laid almost on the spot where he was born. +Captain Grose, the antiquary, who was collecting materials for his +"Antiquities of Scotland," published in 1789-91, got Burns to +versify it and give it to him. The poem made its first appearance, +therefore, in Captain Grose's book. Mrs. Burns told of it that it +was the work of a day. Burns was most of the day on his favourite +walk by the river, where his wife and some of the children joined +him in the afternoon. Mrs. Burns saw that her husband was busily +engaged "crooning to himsell," and she loitered behind with the +little ones among the broom. Presently she was attracted by the +poet's strange and wild gesticulations; he seemed agonised with an +ungovernable joy. He was reciting very loud. Every circumstance +suggested to heighten the impression of fear in the lines following, + + "By this time he was 'cross the ford + Where in the snaw the chapman smoored," etc., + +was taken from local tradition. Shanter was the real name of a farm +near Kirkoswald, then occupied by a Douglas Grahame, who was much of +Tam's character, and was well content to be called by his country +neighbours Tam o' Shanter for the rest of his life, after Burns had +made the name of the farm immortal. + +Our selection ends with two pieces by Thomas Hood, whose "Tale of a +Trumpet" is luxuriant with play of wit that has its earnest side. +Hood died in 1845. + +A Note upon the Game of Ombre is added, which is founded upon the +description of the game in a little book--"The Court Gamester"-- +which instructed card-players in the reigns of the first Georges. +In the "Rape of the Lock" there is a game of ombre played through to +the last trick. That note will enable any reader to follow +Belinda's play. It will also enable any one who may care to do so +to restore to a place among our home amusements a game which carried +all before it in Queen Anne's day, and which is really, when cleared +of its gambling details, as good a domestic game for three players +as cribbage or piquet is for two. My "Court Gamester," which was in +its fifth edition in 1728, after devoting its best energies to +ombre, contented its readers in fewer pages with the addition only +of piquet and chess. + +Obsolete words and words of Scottish dialect, with a few more as to +the meaning of which some readers might be uncertain, will be found +explained in the Glossary that ends this volume. + + + +CHAUCER'S MANCIPLE'S TALE OF PHOEBUS AND THE CROW +MODERNISED BY LEIGH HUNT. + + +NOTE. + +The reader is to understand, that all the persons previously +described in the "Prologue to the Canterbury Tales" are now riding +on their way to that city, and each of them telling his tale +respectively, which is preceded by some little bit of incident or +conversation on the road. The agreement, suggested by the Host of +the Tabard, was, first, that each pilgrim should tell a couple of +tales while going to Canterbury, and another couple during the +return to London; secondly, that the narrator of the best one of all +should sup at the expense of the whole party; and thirdly, that the +Host himself should be gratuitous guide on the journey, and arbiter +of all differences by the way, with power to inflict the payment of +travelling expenses upon any one who should gainsay his judgment. +During the intervals of the stories he is accordingly the most +prominent person.--LEIGH HUNT. + +PROLOGUE TO THE MANCIPLE'S TALE. + +Wottest thou, reader, of a little town, {17} +Which thereabouts they call Bob-up-and-down, +Under the Blee, in Canterbury way? +Well, there our host began to jest and play, +And said, "Hush, hush now: Dun is in the mire. +What, sirs? will nobody, for prayer or hire, +Wake our good gossip, sleeping here behind? +Here were a bundle for a thief to find. +See, how he noddeth! by St. Peter, see! +He'll tumble off his saddle presently. +Is that a cook of London, red flames take him! +He knoweth the agreement--wake him, wake him: +We'll have his tale, to keep him from his nap, +Although the drink turn out not worth the tap. +Awake, thou cook," quoth he; "God say thee nay; +What aileth thee to sleep thus in the day? +Hast thou had fleas all night? or art thou drunk? +Or didst thou sup with my good lord the monk, +And hast a jolly surfeit in thine head?" + + This cook that was full pale, and nothing red, +Stared up, and said unto the host, "God bless +My soul, I feel such wondrous heaviness, +I know not why, that I would rather sleep +Than drink of the best gallon-wine in Cheap." + + "Well," quoth the Manciple, "if it might ease +Thine head, Sir Cook, and also none displease +Of all here riding in this company, +And mine host grant it, I would pass thee by, +Till thou art better, and so tell MY tale; +For in good faith thy visage is full pale; +Thine eyes grow dull, methinks; and sure I am, +Thy breath resembleth not sweet marjoram, +Which showeth thou canst utter no good matter: +Nay, thou mayst frown forsooth, but I'll not flatter. +See, how he gapeth, lo! this drunken wight; +He'll swallow us all up before he'll bite; +Hold close thy mouth, man, by thy father's kin; +The fiend himself now set his foot therein, +And stop it up, for 'twill infect us all; +Fie, hog; fie, pigsty; foul thy grunt befall. +Ah--see, he bolteth! there, sirs, was a swing; +Take heed--he's bent on tilting at the ring: +He's the shape, isn't he? to tilt and ride! +Eh, you mad fool! go to your straw, and hide." + + Now with this speech the cook for rage grew black, +And would have stormed, but could not speak, alack! +So mumbling something, from his horse fell he, +And where he fell, there lay he patiently, +Till pity on his shame his fellows took. +Here was a pretty horseman of a cook! +Alas! that he had held not by his ladle! +And ere again they got him on his saddle, +There was a mighty shoving to and fro +To lift him up, and muckle care and woe, +So heavy was this carcase of a ghost. +Then to the Manciple thus spake our host:- +"Since drink upon this man hath domination, +By nails! and as I reckon my salvation, +I trow he would have told a sorry tale; +For whether it be wine, or it be ale, +That he hath drank, he speaketh through the nose, +And sneezeth much, and he hath got the POSE, {19} +And also hath given us business enow +To keep him on his horse, out of the slough; +He'll fall again, if he be driven to speak, +And then, where are we, for a second week? +Why, lifting up his heavy drunken corse! +Tell on thy tale, and look we to his horse. +Yet, Manciple, in faith thou art too nice +Thus openly to chafe him for his vice. +Perchance some day he'll do as much for thee, +And bring thy baker's bills in jeopardy, +Thy black jacks also, and thy butcher's matters, +And whether they square nicely with thy platters." + + "Mine," quoth the Manciple, "were then the mire! +Much rather would I pay his horse's hire, +And that will be no trifle, mud and all, +Than risk the peril of so sharp a fall. +I did but jest. Score not, ye'll be not scored. +And guess ye what? I have here, in my gourd, +A draught of wine, better was never tasted, +And with this cook's ladle will I be basted, +If he don't drink of it, right lustily. +Upon my life he'll not say nay. Now see. + + And true it was, the cook drank fast enough; +Down went the drink out of the gourd, FLUFF, FLUFF: +Alas! the man had had enough before: +And then, betwixt a trumpet and a snore, +His nose said something,--grace for what he had; +And of that drink the cook was wondrous glad. + + Our host nigh burst with laughter at the sight, +And sighed and wiped his eyes for pure delight, +And said, "Well, I perceive it's necessary, +Where'er we go, good wine with us to carry. +What needeth in this world more strifes befall? +Good wine's the doctor to appease them all. +O, Bacchus, Bacchus! blessed be thy name, +That thus canst turn our earnest into game. +Worship and thanks be to thy deity. +So on this head ye get no more from me. +Tell on thy tale, Manciple, I thee pray." + +"Well, sire," quoth he, "now hark to what I say." + + + +THE MANCIPLE'S TALE OF PHOEBUS AND THE CROW. + + +When Phoebus dwelt with men, in days of yore, +He was the very lustiest bachelor +Of all the world; and shot in the best bow. +'Twas he, as the old books of stories show, +That shot the serpent Python, as he lay +Sleeping against the sun, upon a day: +And many another noble worthy deed +He did with that same bow, as men may read. + + He played all kinds of music: and so clear +His singing was, and such a heaven to hear, +Men might not speak during his madrigal. +Amphion, king of Thebes, that put a wall +About the city with his melody, +Certainly sang not half so well as he. +And add to this, he was the seemliest man +That is, or has been, since the world began. +What needs describe his beauty? since there's none +With which to make the least comparison. +In brief, he was the flower of gentilesse, {21} +Of honour, and of perfect worthiness: +And yet, take note, for all this mastery, +This Phoebus was of cheer so frank and free, +That for his sport, and to commend the glory +He gat him o'er the snake (so runs the story), +He used to carry in his hand a bow. + + Now this same god had in his house a crow, +Which in a cage he fostered many a day, +And taught to speak, as folks will teach a jay. +White was the crow; as is a snow-white swan, +And could repeat a tale told by a man, +And sing. No nightingale, down in a dell, +Could sing one-hundred-thousandth part so well. + + Now had this Phoebus in his house a wife +Which that he loved beyond his very life: +And night and day did all his diligence +To please her well, and do her reverence; +Save only, to speak truly, inter nos, +Jealous he was, and would have kept her close: +He wished not to be treated monstrously: +Neither does any man, no more than he; +Only to hinder wives, it serveth nought; - +A good wife, that is clean of work and thought, +No man would dream of hindering such a way. +And just as bootless is it, night or day, +Hindering a shrew; for it will never be. +I hold it for a very foppery, +Labour in vain, this toil to hinder wives, +Old writers always say so, in their Lives. + + But to my story, as it first began. +This worthy Phoebus doeth all he can +To please his wife, in hope, so pleasing her, +That she, for her part, would herself bestir +Discreetly, so as not to lose his grace; +But, Lord he knows, there's no man shall embrace +A thing so close, as to restrain what Nature +Hath naturally set in any creature. + + Take any bird, and put it in a cage, +And do thy best and utmost to engage +The bird to love it; give it meat and drink, +And every dainty housewives can bethink, +And keep the cage as cleanly as you may, +And let it be with gilt never so gay, +Yet had this bird, by twenty-thousand-fold, +Rather be in a forest wild and cold, +And feed on worms and suchlike wretchedness; +Yea, ever will he tax his whole address +To get out of the cage when that he may:- +His liberty the bird desireth aye. + + So, take a cat, and foster her with milk +And tender meat, and make her bed of silk, +Yet let her see a mouse go by the wall, +The devil may take, for her, silk, milk, and all, +And every dainty that is in the house; +Such appetite hath she to eat the mouse. +Lo, here hath Nature plainly domination, +And appetite renounceth education. + + A she-wolf likewise hath a villain's kind: +The worst and roughest wolf that she can find, +Or least of reputation, will she wed, +When the time comes to make her marriage-bed. + + But misinterpret not my speech, I pray; +All this of men, not women, do I say; +For men it is, that come and spoil the lives +Of such, as but for them, would make good wives. +They leave their own wives, be they never so fair, +Never so true, never so debonair, +And take the lowest they may find, for change. +Flesh, the fiend take it, is so given to range, +It never will continue, long together, +Contented with good, steady, virtuous weather. + + This Phoebus, while on nothing ill thought he, +Jilted he was, for all his jollity; +For under him, his wife, at her heart's-root, +Another had, a man of small repute, +Not worth a blink of Phoebus; more's the pity; +Too oft it falleth so, in court and city. +This wife, when Phoebus was from home one day, +Sent for her lemman then, without delay. +Her lemman!--a plain word, I needs must own; +Forgive it me; for Plato hath laid down, +The word must suit according with the deed; +Word is work's cousin-german, ye may read: +I'm a plain man, and what I say is this: +Wife high, wife low, if bad, both do amiss: +But because one man's wench sitteth above, +She shall be called his Lady and his Love; +And because t'other's sitteth low and poor, +She shall be called,--Well, well, I say no more; +Only God knoweth, man, mine own dear brother, +One wife is laid as low, just, as the other. + + Right so betwixt a lawless, mighty chief +And a rude outlaw, or an arrant thief, +Knight arrant or thief arrant, all is one; +Difference, as Alexander learnt, there's none; +But for the chief is of the greater might, +By force of numbers, to slay all outright, +And burn, and waste, and make as flat as floor, +Lo, therefore is he clept a conqueror; +And for the other hath his numbers less, +And cannot work such mischief and distress, +Nor be by half so wicked as the chief, +Men clepen him an outlaw and a thief. + + However, I am no text-spinning man; +So to my tale I go, as I began. + + Now with her lemman is this Phoebus' wife; +The crow he sayeth nothing, for his life; +Caged hangeth he, and sayeth not a word; +But when that home was come Phoebus the lord, +He singeth out, and saith,--"Cuckoo! cuckoo!" +"Hey!" crieth Phoebus, "here be something new; +Thy song was wont to cheer me. What is this?" +"By Jove!" quoth Corvus, "I sing not amiss. +Phoebus," quoth he; "for all thy worthiness, +For all thy beauty and all thy gentilesse, +For all thy song and all thy minstrelsy, +And all thy watching, bleared is thine eye; +Yea, and by one no worthier than a gnat, +Compared with him should boast to wear thine hat." + + What would you more? the crow hath told him all; +This woful god hath turned him to the wall +To hide his tears: he thought 'twould burst his heart; +He bent his bow, and set therein a dart, +And in his ire he hath his wife yslain; +He hath; he felt such anger and such pain; +For sorrow of which he brake his minstrelsy, +Both harp and lute, gittern and psaltery, +And then he brake his arrows and his bow, +And after that, thus spake he to the crow:- + + "Traitor," quoth he, "behold what thou hast done; +Made me the saddest wretch beneath the sun: +Alas! why was I born! O dearest wife, +Jewel of love and joy, my only life, +That wert to me so steadfast and so true, +There liest thou dead; why am not I so too? +Full innocent thou wert, that durst I swear; +O hasty hand, to bring me to despair! +O troubled wit, O anger without thought, +That unadvised smitest, and for nought: +O heart of little faith, full of suspicion, +Where was thy handsomeness and thy discretion? +O every man, hold hastiness in loathing; +Believe, without strong testimony, nothing; +Smite not too soon, before ye well know why; +And be advised well and soberly +Before ye trust yourselves to the commission +Of any ireful deed upon suspicion. +Alas! a thousand folk hath hasty ire +Foully foredone, and brought into the mire. +Alas! I'll kill myself for misery." + + And to the crow, "O thou false thief!" said he, +I'll quit thee, all thy life, for thy false tale; +Thou shalt no more sing like the nightingale, +Nor shalt thou in those fair white feathers go, +Thou silly thief, thou false, black-hearted crow; +Nor shalt thou ever speak like man again; +Thou shalt not have the power to give such pain; +Nor shall thy race wear any coat but black, +And ever shall their voices crone and crack +And be a warning against wind and rain, +In token that by thee my wife was slain." + + So to the crow he started, like one mad, +And tore out every feather that he had, +And made him black, and reft him of his stores +Of song and speech, and flung him out of doors +Unto the devil; whence never come he back, +Say I. Amen. And hence all crows are black. + + Lordings, by this example I you pray +Take heed, and be discreet in what you say; +And above all, tell no man, for your life, +How that another man hath kissed his wife. +He'll hate you mortally; be sure of that; +Dan Solomon, in teacher's chair that sat, +Bade us keep all our tongues close as we can; +But, as I said, I'm no text-spinning man, +Only, I must say, thus taught me my dame; {26} +My son, think on the crow in God his name; +My son, keep well thy tongue, and keep thy friend; +A wicked tongue is worse than any fiend; +My son, a fiend's a thing for to keep down; +My son, God in his great discretion +Walled a tongue with teeth, and eke with lips, +That man may think, before his speech out slips. +A little speech spoken advisedly +Brings none in trouble, speaking generally. +My son, thy tongue thou always shouldst restrain, +Save only at such times thou dost thy pain +To speak of God in honour and in prayer; +The chiefest virtue, son, is to beware +How thou lett'st loose that endless thing, thy tongue; +This every soul is taught, when he is young: +My son, of muckle speaking ill-advised, +And where a little speaking had sufficed, +Com'th muckle harm. This was me told and taught, - +In muckle speaking, sinning wanteth nought. +Know'st thou for what a tongue that's hasty serveth? +Right as a sword forecutteth and forecarveth +An arm in two, my dear son, even so +A tongue clean-cutteth friendship at a blow. +A jangler is to God abominable: +Read Solomon, so wise and honourable; +Read David in his Psalms, read Seneca; +My son, a nod is better than a say; +Be deaf, when folk speak matter perilous; +Small prate, sound pate,--guardeth the Fleming's house. +My son, if thou no wicked word hast spoken, +Thou never needest fear a pate ybroken; +But he that hath missaid, I dare well say, +His fingers shall find blood thereon, some day. +Thing that is said, is said; it may not back +Be called, for all your "Las!" and your "Alack!" +And he is that man's thrall to whom 'twas said; +Cometh the bond some day, and will be paid. +My son, beware, and be no author new +Of tidings, whether they be false or true: +Go wheresoe'er thou wilt, 'mongst high or low, +Keep well thy tongue, and think upon the crow. + + + +CHAUCER'S RIME OF SIR THOPAS +MODERNISED BY Z. A. Z. + + + +PROLOGUE TO SIR THOPAS. + +1. +Now when the Prioress had done, each man +So serious looked, 'twas wonderful to see! +Till our good host to banter us began, +And then at last he cast his eyes on me, +And jeering said, "What man art thou?" quoth he, +"That lookest down as thou wouldst find a hare, +For ever upon the ground I see thee stare. + +2. +"Approach me near, and look up merrily! +Now make way, sirs! and let this man have place. +He in the waist is shaped as well as I: +This were a poppet in an arm's embrace, +For any woman, small and fair of face. +He seemeth elf-like by his countenance, +For with no wight holdeth he dalliance. + +3. +"Say somewhat now, since other folks have said; +Tell us a tale o' mirth, and that anon." +"Host," quoth I then, "be not so far misled, +For other tales except this know I none; +A little rime I learned in years agone." +"Ah! that is well," quoth he; "now we shall hear +Some dainty thing, methinketh, by thy cheer." + + + +THE RIME OF SIR THOPAS. + +FYTTE THE FIRST. {30} + +1. +Listen, lordlings, in good intent, +And I will tell you verament + Of mirth and chivalry, +About a knight on glory bent, +In battle and in tournament; + Sir Thopas named was he. + +2. +And he was born in a far countrey, +In Flanders, all beyond the sea, + At Popering in the place; +His father was a man full free, +And of that country lord was he, + Enjoyed by holy grace. + +3. +Sir Thopas was a doughty swain, +Fair was his face as pain de Maine, + His lips were red as rose; +His ruddy cheeks like scarlet grain; +And I tell you in good certaine, + He had a seemly nose. + +4. +His hair and beard like saffron shone, +And to his girdle fell adown; + His shoes of leather bright; +Of Bruges were his hose so brown, +His robe it was of ciclatoun - + He was a costly wight: + +5. +Well could he hunt the strong wild deer, +And ride a hawking for his cheer + With grey goshawk on hand; +His archery filled the woods with fear, +In wrestling eke he had no peer, - + No man 'gainst him could stand. + +6. +Full many a maiden bright in bower +Was sighing for him par amour + Between her prayers and sleep, +But he was chaste, beyond their power, +And sweet as is the bramble flower + That beareth the red hip. + +7. +And so it fell upon a day, +Forsooth, as I now sing and say, + Sir Thopas went to ride; +He rode upon his courser grey, +And in his hand a lance so gay, + A long sword by his side. + +8. +He rode along a forest fair, +Many a wild beast dwelling there; + (Mercy in heaven defend!) +And there was also buck and hare; +And as he went, he very near + Met with a sorry end. + +9. +And herbs sprang up, or creeping ran; +The liquorice, and valerian, + Clove-gillyflowers, sun-dressed; +And nutmeg, good to put in ale, +Whether it be moist or stale, - + Or to lay sweet in chest, + +10. +The birds all sang, as tho' 'twere May; +The spearhawk, and the popinjay, {32} + It was a joy to hear; +The throstle cock made eke his lay, +The wood-dove sung upon the spray, + With note full loud and clear. + +11. +Sir Thopas fell in love-longing +All when he heard the throstle sing, + And spurred his horse like mad, +So that all o'er the blood did spring, +And eke the white foam you might wring: + The steed in foam seemed clad. + +12. +Sir Thopas eke so weary was +Of riding on the fine soft grass, + While love burnt in his breast, +That down he laid him in that place +To give his courser some solace, + Some forage and some rest. + +13. +Saint Mary! benedicite! +What meaneth all this love in me, + That haunts me in the wood? +This night, in dreaming, did I see +An elf queen shall my true love be, + And sleep beneath my hood. + +14. +An elf queen will I love, I wis, +For in this world no woman is + Worthy to be my bride; +All other damsels I forsake, +And to an elf queen will I take, + By grove and streamlet's side. + +15. +Into his saddle be clomb anon, +And pricketh over stile and stone, + An elf queen to espy; +Till he so long had ridden and gone, +That he at last upon a morn + The fairy land came nigh. + +16. +Therein he sought both far and near, +And oft he spied in daylight clear + Through many a forest wild; +But in that wondrous land I ween, +No living wight by him was seen, + Nor woman, man, nor child. + +17. +At last there came a giant gaunt, +And he was named Sir Oliphaunt, + A perilous man of deed: +And he said, "Childe, by Termagaunt, +If thou ride not from this my haunt, + Soon will I slay thy steed + With this victorious mace; +For here's the lovely Queen of Faery, +With harp and pipe and symphony, + A-dwelling in this place." + +18. +Childe Thopas said right haughtily, +"To-morrow will I combat thee + In armour bright as flower; +And then I promise 'par ma fay' +That thou shalt feel this javelin gay, + And dread its wondrous power. + To-morrow we shall meet again, +And I will pierce thee, if I may, +Upon the golden prime of day; - + And here you shall be slain." + +19. +Sir Thopas drew aback full fast; +The giant at him huge stones cast, + Which from a staff-sling fly; +But well escaped the Childe Thopas, +And it was all through God's good grace, + And through his bearing high. + +20. +Still listen, gentles, to my tale, +Merrier than the nightingale; - + For now I must relate, +How that Sir Thopas rideth o'er +Hill and dale and bright sea-shore, + E'en to his own estate. + +21. +His merry men commandeth he +To make for him the game and glee; + For needs he must soon fight +With a giant fierce, with strong heads three, +For paramour and jollity, + And chivalry so bright. + +22. +"Come forth," said he, "my minstrels fair, +And tell me tales right debonair, + While I am clad and armed; +Romances, full of real tales, +Of dames, and popes, and cardinals, + And maids by wizards charmed." + +23. +They bore to him the sweetest wine +In silver cup; the muscadine, + With spices rare of Ind; +Fine gingerbread, in many a slice, +With cummin seed, and liquorice, + And sugar thrice refined. + +24. +Then next to his white skin he ware +A cloth of fleecy wool, as fair, + Woven into a shirt; +Next that he put a cassock on, +And over that an habergeon, {35} + To guard right well his heart. + +25. +And over that a hauberk went +Of Jews' work, and most excellent; + Full strong was every plate; +And over that his coat armoure, +As white as is the lily flower, + In which he would debate. + +26. +His shield was all of gold so red, +And thereon was a wild boar's head, + A carbuncle beside; +And then he swore on ale and bread, +How that the giant should be dead, + Whatever should betide! + +27. +His boots were glazed right curiously, +His sword-sheath was of ivory, + His helm all brassy bright; +His saddle was of jet-black bone, +His bridle like the bright sun shone, + Or like the clear moons light, + +28. +His spear was of the cypress tree, +That bodeth battle right and free; + The point full sharp was ground; +His steed it was a dapple grey, +That goeth an amble on the way, + Full softly and full round. + +29. +Lo! lordlings mine, here ends one fytte + Of this my tale, a gallant strain; +And if ye will hear more of it, + I'll soon begin again. + + + +FYTTE THE SECOND. + +1. +Now hold your speech for charity, +Both gallant knight and lady free, + And hearken to my song +Of battle and of chivalry, +Of ladies' love and minstrelsy, + All ambling thus along. + +2. +Men speak much of old tales, I know; +Of Hornchild, Ipotis, also + Of Bevis and Sir Guy; +Of Sire Libeaux, and Pleindamour; +But Sire Thopas, he is the flower + Of real chivalry. + +3. +Now was his gallant steed bestrode, +And forth upon his way he rode, + As spark flies from a brand; +Upon his crest he bare a tower, +And therein stuck a lily flower: + Save him from giant hand. + +4. +He was a knight in battle bred, +And in no house would seek his bed, + But laid him in the wood; +His pillow was his helmet bright, - +His horse grazed by him all the night + On herbs both fine and good. + +5. +And he drank water from the well, +As did the knight Sir Percival, + So worthy under weed; +Till on a day - + +[Here Chaucer is interrupted in his Rime.] + + +EPILOGUE TO RIME. + +"No more of this, for Heaven's high dignity!" +Quoth then our Host, "for, lo! thou makest me +So weary of thy very simpleness, +That all so wisely may the Lord me bless, +My very ears, with thy dull rubbish, ache. +Now such a rime at once let Satan take. +This may be well called 'doggrel rime,'" quoth he. +"Why so?" quoth I; "why wilt thou not let me +Tell all my tale, like any other man, +Since that it is the best rime that I can?" +"Mass!" quoth our Host, "if that I hear aright, +Thy scraps of rhyming are not worth a mite; +Thou dost nought else but waste away our time:- +Sir, at one word, thou shalt no longer rhyme." + + + +CHAUCER'S FRIAR'S TALE; or, THE SUMNER AND THE DEVIL +MODERNISED BY LEIGH HUNT. + + +There lived, sirs, in my country, formerly, +A wondrous great archdeacon,--who but he? +Who boldly did the work of his high station +In punishing improper conversation, +And all the slidings thereunto belonging; +Witchcraft, and scandal also, and the wronging +Of holy Church, by blinking of her dues +In sacraments and contracts, wills and pews; +Usury furthermore, and simony; +But people of ill lives most loathed he: +Lord! how he made them sing if they were caught. +And tithe-defaulters, ye may guess, were taught +Never to venture on the like again; +To the last farthing would he rack and strain. +For stinted tithes, or stinted offering, +He made the people piteously to sing. +He left no leg for the good bishop's crook; +Down went the black sheep in his own black book; +For when the name gat there, such dereliction +Came, you must know, sirs, in his jurisdiction. + + He had a Sumner ready to his hand; +A slyer bully filched not in the land; +For in all parts the villain had his spies +To let him know where profit might arise. +Well could he spare ill livers, three or four, +To help his net to four-and-twenty more. +'Tis truth. Your Sumner may stare hard for me; +I shall not screen, not I, his villainy; +For heaven be thanked, laudetur Dominus, +They have no hold, these cursed thieves, on us; +Nor never shall have, let 'em thieve till doom. + + ["No," cried the Sumner, starting from his gloom, +"Nor have we any hold, Sir Shaven-crown, +On your fine flock, the ladies of the town." + "Peace, with a vengeance," quoth our Host, "and let +The tale be told. Say on, thou marmoset, +Thou lady's friar, and let the Sumner sniff."] + + "Well," quoth the Friar; "this Sumner, this false thief, +Had scouts in plenty ready to his hand, +Like any hawks, the sharpest in the land, +Watching their birds to pluck, each in his mew, +Who told him all the secrets that they knew, +And lured him game, and gat him wondrous profit; +Exceeding little knew his master of it. +Sirs, he would go, without a writ, and take +Poor wretches up, feigning it for Christ's sake, +And threatening the poor people with his curse, +And all the while would let them fill his purse, +And to the alehouse bring him by degrees, +And then he'd drink with them, and slap his knees +For very mirth, and say 'twas some mistake. +Judas carried the bag, sirs, for Christ's sake, +And was a thief; and such a thief was he; +His master got but sorry share, pardie. +To give due laud unto this Satan's imp, +He was a thief, a Sumner, and a pimp. + + Wenches themselves were in his retinue; +So whether 'twas Sir Robert, or Sir Hugh, +Or Jack, or Ralph, that held the damsel dear, +Come would she then, and tell it in his ear: +Thus were the wench and he of one accord; +And he would feign a mandate from his lord, +And summon them before the court, those two, +And pluck the man, and let the mawkin go. +Then would he say, "Friend, for thine honest look, +I save thy name, this once, from the black book; +Thou hear'st no further of this case."--But, Lord! +I might not in two years his bribes record. +There's not a dog alive, so speed my soul, +Knoweth a hurt deer better from a whole +Than this false Sumner knew a tainted sheep, +Or where this wretch would skulk, or that would sleep, +Or to fleece both was more devoutly bent; +And reason good; his faith was in his rent. + + And so befell, that once upon a day, +This Sumner, prowling ever for his prey, +Rode forth to cheat a poor old widowed soul, +Feigning a cause for lack of protocol, +And as he went, he saw before him ride +A yeoman gay under the forest side. +A bow he bare, and arrows bright and keen; +And he was clad in a short cloak of green, +And wore a hat that had a fringe of black. + + "Sir," quoth this Sumner, shouting at his back, +"Hail, and well met."--"Well met," like shouteth he; +"Where ridest thou under the greenwood tree? +Goest thou far, thou jolly boy, to-day?" + This bully Sumner answered, and said, "Nay, +Only hard-by, to strain a rent."--"Hoh! hoh! +Art thou a bailiff then?"--"Yea, even so." +For he durst not, for very filth and shame, +Say that he was a Sumner, for the name. + "Well met, in God's name," quoth black fringe; "why, brother, +Thou art a bailiff then, and I'm another; +But I'm a stranger in these parts; so, prythee, +Lend me thine aid, and let me journey with thee. +I've gold and silver, plenty, where I dwell; +And if thou hap'st to come into our dell, +Lord! how we'll do our best to give thee greeting!" + "Thanks," quoth the Sumner; "merry be our meeting." +So in each other's hand their troths they lay, +And swear accord: and forth they ride and play. + + This Sumner then, which was as full of stir, +And prate, and prying, as a woodpecker, +And ever inquiring upon everything, +Said, "Brother, where is thine inhabiting, +In case I come to find thee out some day?" + + This yeoman dropped his speech in a soft way, +And said, "Far in the north. But ere we part, {42} +I trow thou shalt have learnt it so by heart, +Thou mayst not miss it, be it dark as pitch." + + "Good," quoth the Sumner. "Now, as thou art rich, +Show me, dear brother, riding thus with me, +Since we are bailiffs both, some subtlety, +How I may play my game best, and may win: +And spare not, pray, for conscience or for sin, +But, as my brother, tell me how do ye." + + "Why, 'faith, to tell thee a plain tale," quoth he, +"As to my wages, they be poor enough; +My lord's a dangerous master, hard and chuff; +And since my labour bringeth but abortion, +I live, so please ye, brother, by extortion, +I take what I can get; that is my course; +By cunning, if I may; if not, by force; +So cometh, year by year, my salary." + "Now certes," quote the Sumner, "so fare I. +I lay my hands on everything, God wot, +Unless it be too heavy or too hot. +What I may get in counsel, privily, +I feel no sort of qualm thereon, not I. +Extortion or starvation;--that's my creed. +Repent who list. The best of saints must feed. +That's all the stomach that my conscience knoweth. +Curse on the ass that to confession goeth. +Well be we met, 'Od's heart! and by my dame! +But tell me, brother dear, what is thy name?" + + Now ye must know, that right in this meanwhile, +This yeoman 'gan a little for to smile. +"Brother," quoth he, "my name, if I must tell - +I am a fiend: my dwelling is in hell: +And here I ride about my fortuning, +To wot if folk will give me anything. +To that sole end ride I, and ridest thou; +And, without pulling rein, will I ride now +To the world's end, ere I will lose a prey." + + "God bless me," quoth the Sumner, "what d'ye say? +I thought ye were a yeoman verily. +Ye have a man's shape, sir, as well as I. +Have ye a shape then, pray, determinate +In hell, good sir, where ye have your estate?" + + "Nay, certainly," quoth he, "there have we none; +But whoso liketh it, he taketh one; +And so we make folk think us what we please. +Sometimes we go like apes, sometimes like bees, +Like man, or angel, black dog, or black crow:- +Nor is it wondrous that it should be so. +A sorry juggler can bewilder thee; +And 'faith, I think I know more craft than he." + + "But why," inquired the Sumner, "must ye don +So many shapes, when ye might stick to one?" + "We suit the bait unto the fish," quoth he. +"And why," quoth t'other, "all this slavery?" + "For many a cause, Sir Sumner," quoth the fiend; +"But time is brief--the day will have an end; +And here jog I, with nothing for my ride; +Catch we our fox, and let this theme abide: +For, brother mine, thy wit it is too small +To understand me, though I told thee all; +And yet, as toucheth that same slavery, +A devil must do God's work, 'twixt you and me; +For without Him, albeit to our loathing, +Strong as we go, we devils can do nothing; +Though to our prayers, sometimes, He giveth leave +Only the body, not the soul, to grieve. +Witness good Job, whom nothing could make wrath; +And sometimes have we power to harass both; +And, then again, soul only is possest, +And body free; and all is for the best. +Full many a sinner would have no salvation, +Gat it he not by standing our temptation: +Though God He knows, 'twas far from our intent +To save the man:- his howl was what we meant. +Nay, sometimes we be servants to our foes: +Witness the saint that pulled my master's nose; +And to the apostle servant eke was I." + "Yet tell me," quoth this Sumner, "faithfully, +Are the new shapes ye take for your intents +Fresh every time, and wrought of elements?" + "Nay," quoth the fiend, "sometimes they be disguises; +And sometimes in a corpse a devil rises, +And speaks as sensibly, and fair, and well, +As did the Pythoness to Samuel: +And yet will some men say, it was not he! +Lord help, say I, this world's divinity. +Of one thing make thee sure; that thou shalt know, +Before we part, the shapes we wear below. +Thou shalt--I jest thee not--the Lord forbid! +Thou shalt know more than ever Virgil did, +Or Dante's self. So let us on, sweet brother, +And stick, like right warm souls, to one another: +I'll never quit thee, till thou quittest me." + + "Nay," quoth the Sumner, "that can never be; +I am a man well known, respectable; +And though thou wert the very lord of hell, +Hold thee I should as mine own plighted brother: +Doubt not we'll stick right fast, each to the other: +And, as we think alike, so will we thrive: +We twain will be the merriest devils alive. +Take thou what's given; for that's thy mode, God wot; +And I will take, whether 'tis given or not. +And if that either winneth more than t'other, +Let him be true, and share it with his brother." + + "Done," quoth the fiend, whose eyes in secret glowed; +And with that word they pricked along the road: +And soon it fell, that entering the town's end, +To which this Sumner shaped him for to wend, +They saw a cart that loaded was with hay, +The which a carter drove forth on his way. +Deep was the mire, and sudden the cart stuck: +The carter, like a madman, smote and struck, +And cried, "Heit, Scot; heit, Brock! What! is't the stones? +The devil clean fetch ye both, body and bones: +Must I do nought but bawl and swinge all day? +Devil take the whole--horse, harness, cart, and hay." + + The Sumner whispered to the fiend, "I' faith, +We have it here. Hear'st thou not what he saith? +Take it anon, for he hath given it thee, +Live stock and dead, hay, cart, and horses three!" + + "Nay," quoth the fiend, "not so;--the deuce a bit. +He sayeth; but, alas! not meaneth it: +Ask him thyself, if thou believ'st not me; +Or else be still awhile, and thou shalt see." + + Thwacketh the man his horses on the croup, +And they begin to draw now, and to stoop. +"Heit there," quoth he; "heit, heit; ah, matthywo. +Lord love their hearts! how prettily they go! +That was well twitched, methinks, mine own grey boy: +I pray God save thy body, and Saint Eloy. +Now is my cart out of the slough, pardie." + + "There," quoth the fiend unto the Sumner; "see, +I told thee how 'twould fall. Thou seest, dear brother, +The churl spoke one thing, but he thought another. +Let us prick on, for we take nothing here." + + And when from out the town they had got clear, +The Sumner said, "Here dwelleth an old witch, +That had as lief be tumbled in a ditch +And break her neck, as part with an old penny. +Nathless her twelve pence is as good as any, +And I will have it, though she lose her wits; +Or else I'll cite her with a score of writs: +And yet, God wot, I know of her no vice. +So learn of me, Sir Fiend: thou art too nice." + + The Sumner clappeth at the widow's gate. +"Come out," he saith, "thou hag, thou quiver-pate: +I trow thou hast some friar or priest with thee." + "Who clappeth?" said this wife; "ah, what say ye? +God save ye, masters: what is your sweet will?" + "I have," said he, "of summons here a bill: +Take care, on pain of cursing, that thou be +To-morrow morn, before the Archdeacon's knee, +To answer to the court of certain things." + + "Now, Lord," quoth she, "sweet Jesu, King of kings, +So help me, as I cannot, sirs, nor may: +I have been sick, and that full many a day. +I may not walk such distance, nay, nor ride, +But I be dead, so pricketh it my side. +La! how I cough and quiver when I stir! - +May I not ask some worthy officer +To speak for me, to what the bill may say?" + + "Yea, certainly," this Sumner said, "ye may, +On paying--let me see--twelve pence anon. +Small profit cometh to myself thereon: +My master hath the profit, and not I. +Come--twelve pence, mother--count it speedily, +And let me ride: I may no longer tarry." + + "Twelve pence!" quoth she; "now may the sweet Saint Mary +So wisely help me out of care and sin, +As in this wide world, though I sold my skin, +I could not scrape up twelve pence, for my life. +Ye know too well I am a poor old wife: +Give alms, for the Lord's sake, to me, poor wretch." + + "Nay, if I quit thee then," quoth he, "devil fetch +Myself, although thou starve for it, and rot." + "Alas!" quoth she, "the pence I have 'em not." +"Pay me," quoth he, "or by the sweet Saint Anne, +I'll bear away thy staff and thy new pan +For the old debt thou ow'st me for that fee, +Which out of pocket I discharged for thee, +When thou didst make thy husband an old stag." + "Thou liest," quoth she; "so leave me never a rag, +As I was never yet, widow nor wife, +Summonsed before your court in all my life, +Nor never of my body was untrue. +Unto the devil, rough and black of hue, +Give I thy body, and the pan to boot." + + And when this devil heard her give the brute +Thus in his charge, he stooped into her ear, +And said, "Now, Mabily, my mother dear, +Is this your will in earnest that ye say?" + "The devil," quoth she, "so fetch him cleanaway, +Soul, pan, and all, unless that he repent." + "Repent!" the Sumner cried; "pay up your rent, +Old fool; and don't stand preaching here to me. +I would I had thy whole inventory, +The smock from off thy back, and every cloth." + + "Now, brother," quoth the devil, "be not wroth; +Thy body and this pan be mine by right, +And thou shalt straight to hell with me to-night, +Where thou shalt know what sort of folk we be, +Better than Oxford university." + + And with that word the fiend him swept below, +Body and soul. He went where Sumners go. + + + +CHAUCER'S REVE'S TALE +MODERNISED BY R. H. HORNE. + + + +THE REVE'S PROLOGUE. + +When all had laughed at this right foolish case +Of Absalom and credulous Nicholas, {49} +Diverse folk diversely their comments made. +But, for the most part, they all laughed and played, +Nor at this tale did any man much grieve, +Unless indeed 'twas Oswald, our good Reve. +Because that he was of the carpenter craft, +In his heart still a little ire is left. +He gan to grudge it somewhat, as scarce right; +"So aid me!" quoth he; "I could such requite +By throwing dust in a proud millers eye, +If that I chose to speak of ribaldry. +But I am old; I cannot play for age; +Grass-time is done--my fodder is now forage; +This white top sadly writeth mine old years; +Mine heart is also mouldy'd as mine hairs: +And since I fare as doth the medlar tree, +That fruit which time grows ever the worse to be +Till it be rotten in rubbish and in straw. + + "We old men, as I fear, the same lot draw; +Till we be rotten can we not be ripe. +We ever hop while that the world will pipe; +For in our will there sticketh ever a nail, +To have a hoary head and a green tail, +As hath a leek; for though our strength be lame, +Our will desireth folly ever the same; +For when our climbing's done, our words aspire; +Still in our ashes old is reeking fire. {50} + + "Four hot coals have we, which I will express: +Boasting, lying, anger, and covetousness. +These burning coals are common unto age, +Our old limbs well may stumble o'er the stage, +But will shall never fail us, that is sooth. +Still in my head was always a colt's tooth, +As many a year as now is passed and done, +Since that my tap of life began to run. +For certainly when I was born, I trow, +Death drew the tap of life, and let it flow; +And ever since the tap so fast hath run, +That well-nigh empty now is all the tun. +The stream of life but drips from time to time; +The silly tongue may well ring out and chime +Of wretchedness, that passed is of yore: +With aged folk, save dotage, there's nought more." + + When that our Host had heard this sermoning, +He gan to speak as lordly as a king; +And said, "Why, what amounteth all this wit? +What! shall we speak all day of Holy Writ? +The devil can make a steward fit to preach, +Or of a cobbler a sailor, or a leech. +Say forth thy tale; and tarry not the time. +Lo Deptford! and the hour is half-way prime: +Lo Greenwich! there where many a shrew loves sin - +It were high time thy story to begin." + + "Now, fair sirs," quoth this Oswald, the old Reve, +"I pray you all that you yourselves ne'er grieve, +Though my reply should somewhat fret his nose; +For lawful 'tis with force, force to oppose. +This drunken Miller hath informed us here +How that some folks beguiled a carpenter - +Perhaps in scorn that I of yore was one. +So, by your leave, him I'll requite anon. +In his own churlish language will I speak, +And pray to Heaven besides his neck may break. +A small stalk in mine eye he sees, I deem, +But in his own he cannot see a beam. + + +THE REVE'S TALE. + + +At Trumpington, near Cambridge, if you look, +There goeth a bridge, and under that a brook, +Upon which brook there stood a flour-mill; +And this is a known fact that now I tell. +A Miller there had dwelt for many a day; +As any peacock he was proud and gay. +He could pipe well, and fish, mend nets, to boot, +Turn cups with a lathe, and wrestle well, and shoot. +A Norman dirk, as brown as is a spade, +Hung by his belt, and eke a trenchant blade. +A jolly dagger bare he in his pouch: +There was no man, for peril, durst him touch. +A Sheffield clasp-knife lay within his hose. +Round was his face, and broad and flat his nose. +High and retreating was his bald ape's skull: +He swaggered when the market-place was full. +There durst no wight a hand lift to resent it, +But soon, this Miller swore, he should repent it. + + A thief he was, forsooth, of corn and meal, +A sly one, too, and used long since to steal. +Disdainful Simkin was he called by name. +A wife he had; of noble kin she came: +The rector of the town her father was. +With her he gave full many a pan of brass, +That Simkin with his blood should thus ally. +She had been brought up in a nunnery; +For Simkin ne'er would take a wife, he said, +Unless she were well tutored and a maid, +To carry on his line of yeomanry: +And she was proud and pert as is a pie. +It was a pleasant thing to see these two: +On holidays before her he would go, +With his large tippet bound about his head; +While she came after in a gown of red, +And Simkin wore his long hose of the same. +There durst no wight address her but as dame: +None was so bold that passed along the way +Who with her durst once toy or jesting play, +Unless he wished the sudden loss of life +Before Disdainful Simkin's sword or knife. +(For jealous folk most fierce and perilous grow; +And this they always wish their wives to know.) +But since that to broad jokes she'd no dislike +She was as pure as water in a dyke, +And with abuse all filled and froward air. +She thought that ladies should her temper bear, +Both for her kindred and the lessons high +That had been taught her in the nunnery. + + These two a fair and buxom daughter had, +Of twenty years; no more since they were wed, +Saving a child, that was but six months old; +A little boy in cradle rocked and rolled. +This daughter was a stout and well-grown lass, +With broad flat nose, and eyes as grey as glass. +Broad were her hips; her bosom round and high; +But right fair was she here--I will not lie. + + The rector of the town, as she was fair, +A purpose had to make her his sole heir, +Both of his cattle and his tenement; +But only if she married as he meant. +It was his purpose to bestow her high, +Into some worthy blood of ancestry: +For holy Church's good must be expended +On holy Church's blood that is descended; +Therefore he would his holy Church honour, +Although that holy Church he should devour. + + Great toll and fee had Simkin, out of doubt, +With wheat and malt, of all the land about, +And in especial was the Soler Hall - +A college great at Cambridge thus they call - +Which at this mill both wheat and malt had ground. +And on a day it suddenly was found, +Sick lay the Manciple of a malady; +And men for certain thought that he must die. +Whereon this Miller both of corn and meal +An hundred times more than before did steal; +For, ere this chance, he stole but courteously, +But now he was a thief outrageously. +The Warden scolded with an angry air; +But this the Miller rated not a tare: +He sang high bass, and swore it was not so! + + There were two scholars young, and poor, I trow, +That dwelt within the Hall of which I say. +Headstrong they were and lusty for to play; +And merely for their mirth and revelry, +Out to the Warden eagerly they cry, +That be should let them, for a merry round, +Go to the mill and see their own corn ground, +And each would fair and boldly lay his neck +The Miller should not steal them half a peck +Of corn by sleight, nor by main force bereave. + + And at the last the Warden gave them leave: +One was called John, and Allen named the other; +From the same town they came, which was called Strauther, +Far in the North--I cannot tell you where. + + This Allen maketh ready all his gear, +And on a horse the sack he cast anon: +Forth go these merry clerks, Allen and John, +With good sword and with buckler by their side. +John knew the way, and needed not a guide; +And at the mill the sack adown he layeth. + + Allen spake first:- "Simon, all hail! in faith, +How fares thy daughter, and thy worthy wife?" + "Allen," quoth Simkin, "welcome, by my life; +And also John:- how now! what do ye here?" + "Simon," quoth John, "compulsion has no peer. +They who've nae lackeys must themselves bestir, +Or else they are but fools, as clerks aver. +Our Manciple, I think, will soon be dead, +Sae slowly work the grinders in his head; +And therefore am I come with Allen thus, +To grind our corn, and carry it hame with us: +I pray you speed us, that we may be gone." + + Quoth Simkin, "By my faith it shall be done; +What will ye do while that it is in hand?" + "Gude's life! right by the hopper will I stand," +(Quoth John), "and see how that the corn goes in. +I never yet saw, by my father's kin, +How that the hopper waggles to and fro." + + Allen continued,--"John, and wilt thou so? +Then will I be beneath it, by my crown, +And see how that the meal comes running down +Into the trough--and that shall be my sport. +For, John, like you, I'm of the curious sort; +And quite as bad a miller--so let's see!" + + This Miller smiled at their 'cute nicety, +And thought,--all this is done but for a wile; +They fancy that no man can them beguile: +But, by my thrift, I'll dust their searching eye, +For all the sleights in their philosophy. +The more quaint knacks and guarded plans they make, +The more corn will I steal when once I take: +Instead of flour, I'll leave them nought but bran: +The greatest clerks are not the wisest men. +As whilom to the wolf thus spake the mare: +Of all their art I do not count a tare. + + Out at the door he goeth full privily, +When that he saw his time, and noiselessly: +He looketh up and down, till he hath found +The clerks' bay horse, where he was standing bound +Under an ivy wall, behind the mill: +And to the horse he goeth him fair and well, +And strippeth off the bridle in a trice. + + And when the horse was loose he 'gan to race +Unto the wild mares wandering in the fen, +With WEHEE! WHINNY! right through thick and thin! +This Miller then returned; no word he said, +But doth his work, and with these clerks he played, +Till that their corn was well and fairly ground. +And when the meal is sacked and safely bound +John goeth out, and found his horse was gone, +And cried aloud with many a stamp and groan, +"Our horse is lost! Allen, 'od's banes! I say, +Up on thy feet!--come off, man--up, away! +Alas! our Warden's palfrey, it is gone!" + + Allen at once forgot both meal and corn - +Out of his mind went all his husbandry - +"What! whilk way is he gone?" he 'gan to cry. + + The Miller's wife came laughing inwardly, +"Alas!" said she, "your horse i' the fens doth fly +After wild mares as fast as he can go! +Ill-luck betide the man that bound him so, +And his that better should have knit the rein." + + "Alas!" quoth John, "good Allen, haste amain; +Lay down thy sword, as I will mine also; +Heaven knoweth I am as nimble as a roe; +He shall not 'scape us baith, or my saul's dead! +Why didst not put the horse within the shed? +By the mass, Allen, thou'rt a fool, I say!" + + Those silly clerks have scampered fast away +Unto the fen; Allen and nimble John: +And when the Miller saw that they were gone, +He half a bushel of their flour doth take, +And bade his wife go knead it in a cake. +He said, "I trow these clerks feared what they've found; +Yet can a miller turn a scholar round +For all his art. Yea, let them go their way! +See where they run! yea, let the children play: +They get him not so lightly, by my crown." + + The simple clerks go running up and down, +With "Soft, soft!--stand, stand!--hither!--back ! take care! +Now whistle thou, and I shall keep him here!" +But, to be brief, until the very night +They could not, though they tried with all their might, +The palfrey catch; he always ran so fast: +Till in a ditch they caught him at the last. + + Weary and wet as beasts amid the rain, +Allen and John come slowly back again. +"Alas," quoth John, "that ever I was born! +Now are we turned into contempt and scorn. +Our corn is stolen; fools they will us call; +The Warden, and our college fellows all, +And 'specially the Miller--'las the day!" + + Thus plaineth John while going by the way +Toward the mill, the bay nag in his hand. +The Miller sitting by the fire they found, +For it was night: no further could they move; +But they besought him, for Heaven's holy love, +Lodgment and food to give them for their penny. + + And Simkin answered, "If that there be any, +Such as it is, yet shall ye have your part. +My house is small, but ye have learned art; +Ye can, by arguments, well make a place +A mile broad, out of twenty foot of space! +Let's see now if this place, as 'tis, suffice; +Or make more room with speech, as is your guise." + "Now, Simon, by Saint Cuthbert," said this John, +"Thou'rt ever merry, and that's answered soon. +I've heard that man must needs choose o' twa things; +Such as he finds, or else such as he brings. +But specially I pray thee, mine host dear, +Let us have meat and drink, and make us cheer, +And we shall pay you to the full, be sure: +With empty hand men may na' hawks allure. +Lo! here's our siller ready to be spent!" + + The Miller to the town his daughter sent +For ale and bread, and roasted them a goose; +And bound their horse; he should no more get loose; +And in his own room made for them a bed, +With blankets, sheets, and coverlet well spread: +Not twelve feet from his own bed did it stand. +His daughter, by herself, as it was planned, +In a small passage closet, slept close by: +It might no better be, for reasons why, - +There was no wider chamber in the place. +They sup, and jest, and show a merry face, +And drink of ale, the strongest and the best. +It was just midnight when they went to rest. + + Well hath this Simkin varnished his hot head; +Full pale he was with drinking, and nought red. +He hiccougheth, and speaketh through the nose, +As with the worst of colds, or quinsy's throes. +To bed he goeth, and with him trips his wife; +Light as a jay, and jolly seemed her life, +So was her jolly whistle well ywet. +The cradle at her bed's foot close she set +To rock, or nurse the infant in the night. +And when the jug of ale was emptied quite, +To bed, likewise, the daughter went anon: +To bed goes Allen; with him also John. +All's said: they need no drugs from poppies pale, +This Miller hath so wisely bibbed of ale; +But as an horse he snorteth in his sleep, +And blurteth secrets which awake he'd keep. +His wife a burden bare him, and full strong: +Men might their routing hear a good furlong. +The daughter routeth else, par compagnie. + + Allen, the clerk, that heard this melody, +Now poketh John, and said, "Why sleepest thou? +Heardest thou ever sic a song ere now? +Lo, what a serenade's among them all! +A wild-fire red upon their bodies fall! +Wha ever listened to sae strange a thing? +The flower of evil shall their ending bring. +This whole night there to me betides no rest. +But, courage yet, all shall be for the best; +For, John," said he, "as I may ever thrive, +To pipe a merrier serenade I'll strive +In the dark passage somewhere near to us; +For, John, there is a law which sayeth thus, - +That if a man in one point be aggrieved, +Right in another he shall be relieved: +Our corn is stolen--sad yet sooth to say - +And we have had an evil bout to-day; +But since the Miller no amends will make, +Against our loss we should some payment take. +His sonsie daughter will I seek to win, +And get our meal back--de'il reward his sin! +By hallow-mass it shall no otherwise be!" + + But John replied, "Allen, well counsel thee: +The Miller is a perilous man," he said, +"And if he wake and start up from his bed, +He may do both of us a villainy." + "Nay," Allen said, "I count him not a flie!" +And up he rose, and crept along the floor +Into the passage humming with their snore: +As narrow was it as a drum or tub. +And like a beetle doth he grope and grub, +Feeling his way with darkness in his hands, +Till at the passage-end he stooping stands. + + John lieth still, and not far off, I trow, +And to himself he maketh ruth and woe. +"Alas," quoth he, "this is a wicked jape! +Now may I say that I am but an ape. +Allen may somewhat quit him for his wrong: +Already can I hear his plaint and song; +So shall his 'venture happily be sped, +While like a rubbish-sack I lie in bed; +And when this jape is told another day, +I shall be called a fool, or a cokenay! +I will adventure somewhat, too, in faith: +'Weak heart, worse fortune,' as the proverb saith." + + And up he rose at once, and softly went +Unto the cradle, as 'twas his intent, +And to his bed's foot bare it, with the brat. +The wife her routing ceased soon after that, +And woke, and left her bed; for she was pained +With nightmare dreams of skies that madly rained. +Eastern astrologers and clerks, I wis, +In time of Apis tell of storms like this. +Awhile she stayed, and waxeth calm in mind; +Returning then, no cradle doth she find, +And gropeth here and there--but she found none. +"Alas," quoth she, "I had almost misgone! +I well-nigh stumbled on the clerks a-bed: +Eh benedicite! but I am safely sped. +And on she went, till she the cradle found, +While through the dark still groping with her hand. + + Meantime was heard the beating of a wing, +And then the third cock of the morn 'gan sing. +Allen stole back, and thought, "Ere that it dawn +I will creep in by John that lieth forlorn." +He found the cradle in his hand, anon. +"Gude Lord!" thought Allen, "all wrong have I gone! +My head is dizzy with the ale last night, +And eke my piping, that I go not right. +Wrong am I, by the cradle well I know: +Here lieth Simkin, and his wife also." +And, scrambling forthright on, he made his way +Unto the bed where Simkin snoring lay! +He thought to nestle by his fellow John, +And by the Miller in he crept, anon, +And caught him by the neck, and 'gan to shake, +And said, "Thou John! thou swine's head dull, awake! +Wake, by the mass! and hear a noble game, +For, by St. Andrew! to thy ruth and shame, +I have been trolling roundelays this night, +And won the Miller's daughter's heart outright, +Who hath me told where hidden is our meal: +All this--and more--and how they always steal; +While thou hast as a coward lain aghast!" + + "Thou slanderous ribald!" quoth the Miller, "hast? +A traitor false, false lying clerk!" quoth he, +"Thou shalt be slain by heaven's dignity, +Who rudely dar'st disparage with foul lie +My daughter that is come of lineage high!" +And by the throat he Allen grasped amain; +And caught him, yet more furiously, again, +And on his nose he smote him with his fist! +Down ran the bloody stream upon his breast, +And on the floor they tumble, heel and crown, +And shake the house--it seemed all coming down. +And up they rise, and down again they roll; +Till that the Miller, stumbling o'er a coal, +Went plunging headlong like a bull at bait, +And met his wife, and both fell flat as slate. +"Help, holy cross of Bromeholm!" loud she cried, +"And all ye martyrs, fight upon my side! +In manus tuas--help!--on thee I call! +Simon, awake! the fiend on me doth fall: +He crusheth me--help!--I am well-nigh dead: +He lieth along my heart, and heels, and head. +Help, Simkin! for the false clerks rage and fight!" + + Now sprang up John as fast as ever he might, +And graspeth by the dark walls to and fro +To find a staff: the wife starts up also. +She knew the place far better than this John, +And by the wall she caught a staff anon. +She saw a little shimmering of a light, +For at an hole in shone the moon all bright, +And by that gleam she saw the struggling two, +But knew not, as for certain, who was who, +Save that she saw a white thing in her eye. +And when that she this white thing 'gan espy, +She thought that Allen did a nightcap wear, +And with the staff she drew near, and more near, +And, thinking 'twas the clerk, she smote at full +Disdainful Simkin on his bald ape's skull. +Down goes the Miller, crying, "Harow, I die!" +These clerks they beat him well, and let him lie. +They make them ready, and take their horse anon, +And eke their meal, and on their way are gone; +And from behind the mill-door took their cake, +Of half a bushel of flour--a right good bake. + + + +CHAUCER'S POEM OF THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE +MODERNISED BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. + + + +1. +The God of Love--ah, benedicite! +How mighty and how great a Lord is he! +For he of low hearts can make high, of high +He can make low, and unto death bring nigh; +And hard hearts he can make them kind and free. + +2. +Within a little time, as hath been found, +He can make sick folk whole and fresh and sound; +Them who are whole in body and in mind +He can make sick,--bind can he and unbind +All that he will have bound, or have unbound. + +3. +To tell his might my wit may not suffice; +Foolish men he can make them out of wise; - +For he may do all that he will devise; +Loose livers he can make abate their vice, +And proud hearts can make tremble in a trice. + +4. +In brief, the whole of what he will, he may; +Against him dare not any wight say nay; +To humble or afflict whome'er he will, +To gladden or to grieve, he hath like skill; +But most his might he sheds on the eve of May. + +5. +For every true heart, gentle heart and free, +That with him is, or thinketh so to be, +Now against May shall have some stirring--whether +To joy, or be it to some mourning; never +At other time, methinks, in like degree. + +6. +For now when they may hear the small birds' song, +And see the budding leaves the branches throng. +This unto their remembrance doth bring +All kinds of pleasure mixed with sorrowing, +And longing of sweet thoughts that ever long. + +7. +And of that longing heaviness doth come, +Whence oft great sickness grows of heart and home; +Sick are they all for lack of their desire; +And thus in May their hearts are set on fire, +So that they burn forth in great martyrdom. + +8. +In sooth, I speak from feeling, what though now +Old am I, and to genial pleasure slow; +Yet have I felt of sickness through the May, +Both hot and cold, and heart-aches every day, - +How hard, alas! to bear, I only know. + +9. +Such shaking doth the fever in me keep, +Through all this May that I have little sleep; +And also 'tis not likely unto me, +That any living heart should sleepy be +In which love's dart its fiery point doth steep. + +10. +But tossing lately on a sleepless bed, +I of a token thought which lovers heed; +How among them it was a common tale, +That it was good to hear the nightingale, +Ere the vile cuckoo's note be uttered. + +11. +And then I thought anon as it was day, +I gladly would go somewhere to essay +If I perchance a nightingale might hear, +For yet had I heard none, of all that year, +And it was then the third night of the May. + +12. +And soon as I a glimpse of day espied, +No longer would I in my bed abide, +But straightway to a wood, that was hard by, +Forth did I go, alone and fearlessly, +And held the pathway down by a brook-side; + +13. +Till to a lawn I came all white and green, +I in so fair a one had never been. +The ground was green, with daisy powdered over; +Tall were the flowers, the grove a lofty cover, +All green and white; and nothing else was seen. + +14. +There sate I down among the fresh fair flowers, +And saw the birds come tripping from their bowers, +Where they had rested them all night; and they, +Who were so joyful at the light of day, +Began to honour May with all their powers. + +15. +Well did they know that service all by rote, +And there was many and many a lovely note; +Some singing loud, as if they had complained; +Some with their notes another manner feigned; +And some did sing all out with the full throat. + +16. +They pruned themselves, and made themselves right gay, +Dancing and leaping light upon the spray; +And ever two and two together were, +The same as they had chosen for the year, +Upon Saint Valentine's returning day. + +17. +Meanwhile the stream, whose bank I sate upon, +Was making such a noise as it ran on +Accordant to the sweet birds' harmony; +Methought that it was the best melody +Which ever to man's ear a passage won. + +18. +And for delight, but how I never wot, +I in a slumber and a swoon was caught, +Not all asleep, and yet not waking wholly; +And as I lay, the Cuckoo bird unholy +Broke silence, or I heard him in my thought. + +19. +And that was right upon a tree fast by, +And who was then ill-satisfied but I? +"Now, God," quoth I, "that died upon the rood, +From thee and thy base throat, keep all that's good, +Full little joy have I now of thy cry." + +20. +And, as I with the Cuckoo thus 'gan chide, +In the next bush that was me fast beside, +I heard the lusty Nightingale so sing, +That her clear voice made a loud rioting, +Echoing thorough all the green wood wide. + +21. +"Ah! good sweet Nightingale! for my heart's cheer, +Hence hast thou stayed a little while too long; +For we have heard the sorry Cuckoo here, +And she hath been before thee with her song; +Evil light on her! she hath done me wrong." + +22. +But hear you now a wondrous thing, I pray; +As long as in that swooning fit I lay, +Methought I wist right well what these birds meant, +And had good knowing both of their intent, +And of their speech, and all that they would say. + +23. +The Nightingale thus in my hearing spake: +"Good Cuckoo, seek some other bush or brake +And, prithee, let us that can sing dwell here; +For every wight eschews thy song to hear, +Such uncouth singing verily dost thou make." + +24. +"What!" quoth she then, "what is't that ails thee now? +It seems to me I sing as well as thou; +For mine's a song that is both true and plain, - +Although I cannot quaver so in vain +As thou dost in thy throat, I wot not how. + +25. +"All men may understanding have of me, +But, Nightingale, so may they not of thee; +For thou hast many a foolish and quaint cry:- +Thou say'st OSEE, OSEE; then how may I +Have knowledge, I thee pray, what this may be?" + +26. +"Ah, fool!" quoth she, "wist thou not what it is? +Oft as I say OSEE, OSEE, I wis, +Then mean I, that I should be wondrous fain +That shamefully they one and all were slain, +Whoever against Love mean aught amiss. + +27. +"And also would I that they all were dead +Who do not think in love their life to lead; +For who is loth the God of Love to obey +Is only fit to die, I dare well say, +And for that cause OSEE I cry; take heed!" + +28. +"Ay," quoth the Cuckoo, "that is a quaint law, +That all must love or die; but I withdraw, +And take my leave of all such company, +For mine intent it neither is to die, +Nor ever while I live Love's yoke to draw. + +29. +"For lovers of all folk that be alive, +The most disquiet have and least do thrive; +Most feeling have of sorrow's woe and care, +And the least welfare cometh to their share; +What need is there against the truth to strive?" + +30. +"What!" quoth she, "thou art all out of thy mind, +That in thy churlishness a cause canst find +To speak of Love's true Servants in this mood; +For in this world no service is so good +To every wight that gentle is of kind. + +31. +"For thereof comes all goodness and all worth; +All gentleness and honour thence come forth; +Thence worship comes, content and true heart's pleasure, +And full-assured trust, joy without measure, +And jollity, fresh cheerfulness, and mirth: + +32. +"And bounty, lowliness, and courtesy, +And seemliness, and faithful company, +And dread of shame that will not do amiss; +For he that faithfully Love's servant is, +Rather than be disgraced, would choose to die. + +33. +"And that the very truth it is which I +Now say--in such belief I'll live and die; +And Cuckoo, do thou so, by my advice." + "Then," quoth she, "let me never hope for bliss, +If with that counsel I do e'er comply. + +34. +"Good Nightingale! thou speakest wondrous fair, +Yet, for all that, the truth is found elsewhere; +For Love in young folk is but rage, I wis; +And Love in old folk a great dotage is; +Whom most it useth, him 'twill most impair. + +35. +"For thereof come all contraries to gladness; +Thence sickness comes, and overwhelming sadness, +Mistrust and jealousy, despite, debate, +Dishonour, shame, envy importunate, +Pride, anger, mischief, poverty and madness. + +36. +"Loving is aye an office of despair, +And one thing is therein which is not fair; +For whoso gets of love a little bliss, +Unless it alway stay with him, I wis +He may full soon go with an old man's hair. + +37. +"And, therefore, Nightingale! do thou keep nigh, +For trust me well, in spite of thy quaint cry, +If long time from thy mate thou be, or far, +Thou'lt be as others that forsaken are; +Then shalt thou raise a clamour as do I." + +38. +"Fie," quoth she, "on thy name, Bird ill beseen! +The God of Love afflict thee with all teen, +For thou art worse than mad a thousandfold; +For many a one hath virtues manifold +Who had been nought, if Love had never been. + +39. +"For evermore his servants Love amendeth, +And he from every blemish them defendeth; +And maketh them to burn, as in a fire, +In loyalty and worshipful desire, +And when it likes him, joy enough them sendeth." + +40. +"Thou Nightingale!" the Cuckoo said, "be still; +For Love no reason hath but his own will; - +For to th' untrue he oft gives ease and joy; +True lovers doth so bitterly annoy, +He lets them perish through that grievous ill. + +41. +"With such a master would I never be, +For he, in sooth, is blind, and may not see, +And knows not when he hurts and when he heals; +Within this court full seldom truth avails, +So diverse in his wilfulness is he." + +42. +Then of the Nightingale did I take note, +How from her inmost heart a sigh she brought, +And said, "Alas! that ever I was born, +Not one word have I now, I am so forlorn," - +And with that word, she into tears burst out. + +43. +"Alas, alas! my very heart will break," +Quoth she, "to hear this churlish bird thus speak +Of Love, and of his holy services; +Now, God of Love! thou help me in some wise, +That vengeance on this Cuckoo I may wreak." + +44. +And so methought I started up anon, +And to the brook I ran, and got a stone, +Which at the Cuckoo hardily I cast, +And he for dread did fly away full fast; +And glad, in sooth, was I when he was gone. + +45. +And as he flew, the Cuckoo ever and aye +Kept crying, "Farewell!--farewell, popinjay!" +As if in scornful mockery of me; +And on I hunted him from tree to tree, +Till he was far, all out of sight, away. + +46. +Then straightway came the Nightingale to me, +And said, "Forsooth, my friend, do I thank thee, +That thou wert near to rescue me; and now, +Unto the God of Love I make a vow, +That all this May I will thy songstress be." + +47. +Well satisfied, I thanked her, and she said, +"By this mishap no longer be dismayed, +Though thou the Cuckoo heard, ere thou heard'st me; +Yet if I live it shall amended be, +When next May comes, if I am not afraid. + +48. +"And one thing will I counsel thee also, +The Cuckoo trust not thou, nor his Love's saw; +All that she said is an outrageous lie." + "Nay, nothing shall me bring thereto," quoth I, +"For Love, and it hath done me mighty woe." + +49. +"Yea, hath it? Use," quoth she, "this medicine, +This May-time, every day before thou dine, +Go look on the fresh daisy; then say I, +Although for pain thou may'st be like to die, +Thou wilt be eased, and less wilt droop and pine. + +50. +"And mind always that thou be good and true, +And I will sing one song, of many new, +For love of thee, as loud as I may cry;" +And then did she begin this song full high, +"Beshrew all them that are in love untrue." + +51. +And soon as she had sung it to the end, +"Now farewell," quoth she, "for I hence must wend; +And, God of Love, that can right well and may, +Send unto thee as mickle joy this day +As ever he to lover yet did send." + +52. +Thus takes the Nightingale her leave of me; +I pray to God with her always to be, +And joy of love to send her evermore; +And shield us from the Cuckoo and her lore, +For there is not so false a bird as she. + +53. +Forth then she flew, the gentle Nightingale, +To all the birds that lodged within that dale, +And gathered each and all into one place; +And them besought to hear her doleful case, +And thus it was that she began her tale:- + +54. +"The Cuckoo--'tis not well that I should hide +How she and I did each the other chide, +And without ceasing, since it was daylight; +And now I pray you all to do me right +Of that false Bird whom Love can not abide." + +55. +Then spake one Bird, and full assent all gave: +"This matter asketh counsel good as grave, +For birds we are--all here together brought; +And, in good sooth, the Cuckoo here is not; +And therefore we a parliament will have. + +56. +"And thereat shall the Eagle be our Lord, +And other Peers whose names are on record; +A summons to the Cuckoo shall be sent, +And judgment there be given; or that intent +Failing, we finally shall make accord. + +57. +"And all this shall be done, without a nay, +The morrow after Saint Valentine's day, +Under a maple that is well beseen, +Before the chamber-window of the Queen, +At Woodstock, on the meadow green and gay." + +58. +She thanked them; and then her leave she took, +And flew into a hawthorn by that brook; +And there she sate and sung--upon that tree, - +"For term of life Love shall have hold of me!" +So loudly, that I with that song awoke. + +Unlearned Book and rude, as well I know, +For beauty thou hast none, nor eloquence, +Who did on thee the hardiness bestow +To appear before my Lady? but a sense +Thou surely hast of her benevolence, +Whereof her hourly bearing proof doth give; +For of all good, she is the best alive. + +Alas, poor Book! for thy unworthiness, +To show to her some pleasant meanings writ +In winning words, since through her gentleness, +Thee she accepts as for her service fit; +Oh! it repents me I have neither wit +Nor leisure unto thee more worth to give; +For of all good, she is the best alive. + +Beseech her meekly with all lowliness, +Though I be far from her I reverence, +To think upon my truth and steadfastness, +And to abridge my sorrow's violence, +Caused by the wish, as knows your sapience, +She of her liking, proof to me would give; +For of all good, she is the best alive. + + + +L'ENVOY. + +Pleasure's Aurora, Day of gladsomeness! +Lucerne, by night, with heavenly influence +Illumined! root of beauty and goodness, +Write, and allay, by your beneficence, +My sighs breathed forth in silence,--comfort give! +Since of all good, you are the best alive. + +EXPLICIT. + + + +TREASURE TROVE +MODERNISED FROM THE FIFTH BOOK OF GOWER'S "CONFESSIO AMANTIS." + + + +In ancient Chronicle I read:- +About a King, as it must need, +There was of Knights and of Squiers +Great rout, and eke of Officers. +Some for a long time him had served, +And thought that they had well deserved +Advancement, but had gone without; +And some also were of the Rout +That only came the other day +And were advanced without delay. +Those Older Men upon this thing, +So as they durst, against the King +Among themselves would murmur oft. +But there is nothing said so soft +That it shall not come out at last, +The King soon knew what Words had passed. +A King he was of high Prudence, +He shaped therefore an Evidence +Of them that plained them in that case, +To know of whose Default it was. +And all within his own intent, +That not a man knew what it meant, +He caused two Coffers to be made +Alike in Shape, and Size, and Shade, +So like that no man, by their Show, +The one may from the other know. +They were into his Chamber brought, +But no man knew why they were wrought; +Yet from the King Command hath come +That they be set in private Room, +For he was in his Wisdom keen. +When he thereto his time had seen, +Slily, away from all the rest, +With his own hands he filled one Chest, +Full of fine Gold and Jewelry +The which out of his Treasury +Was taken; after that he thrust +Into the other Straw and Dust, +And filled it up with Stones also; +Full Coffers are they, both the two. + +And early then upon a day +He bade within doors where he lay +That there should be before his Bed +A Board set up and fairly spread. +The Coffers then he let men get, +And on the Board he had them set. +Full well he knew the Names of those +Whose Murmurings against him rose, +Both of his Chamber and his Hall, +And speedily sent for them all, +And said unto them in this wise: + +"There shall no man his Hap despise; +I know well that ye long have served, +And God knows what ye have deserved. +Whether it is along of me +That ye still unadvanced be, +Or whether it belong of you, +The Sooth is to be proved now, +Wherewith to stop your Evil Word. +Lo here two Coffers on the Board, +Of both the two choose which you will, +And know that ye may have your fill +Of Treasure heaped and packed in one, +That if ye happen thereupon +Ye shall be made Rich Men for ever. +Now choose and take which you is liever. +But be well ware, ere that ye take, - +For of the one I undertake +There is no manner good therein +Whereof ye might a Profit win. +Now go together of one assent +And take your own Advisement. +Whether I you this day advance +Stands only on your Choice and Chance. +No question here of Royal Grace, +It shall be showed in this place +Upon you all, and well and fine, +If Fortune fails by Fault of mine." + +They all kneel down, and with one voice +They thank the King for this free Choice; +And after this they up arise +And go aside and them advise, +And at the last they all accord; +Whereof their Finding to record +To what Issue their Voices fall, +A Knight shall answer for them all. + +He kneeleth down unto the King +And saith, that they upon this thing +Or for to win or for to lose +Are all decided how to choose. +Then took this Knight a Rod in hand +And goes to where the Coffers stand, +And with the Assent of every one +He layeth his Rod upon one, +And tells the King they only want +Him that for their Reward to grant, +And pray him that they might it have. +The King, who would his Honour save, +When he hath heard the common Voice, +Hath granted them their own free Choice, +And gave them thereupon the Key. +But as he would that men might see +What Good they got, as they suppose, +He bade anon the Coffer unclose, - +Which was filled full with Straw and Stone; +Thus are they served, the Luck's their own. + +"Lo," saith the King, "now may ye see +That there is no Default in me; +Therefore myself I will acquit, +Bear ye the Blame now, as is fit, +For that which Fortune you refused." +Thus was this wise old King excused, +And they left off their evil Speech, +And Mercy of their King beseech. + +Touching like matter to the quick, +I find a Tale how Frederick, +At that time Emperor of Rome, +Heard, as he went, a Clamour come +From two poor Beggars on the way. +The one of them began to say, +"Ha, Lord, the man is rich indeed +To whom a King's Wealth brings his Speed!" +The other said, "It is not so, +But he is rich and well-to-do +To whom God pleases Wealth to send." +And thus their Words went without end, +Whereto this Lord hath given ear +And caused both Beggars to appear +Straight at his Palace, there to eat; +And bade provide them for their Meat +Two Pasties which men were to make, +And in the one a Capon bake, +And in the other, Wealth to win, +Of Florins all that may within +He bade them put a great Richesse, +And just alike, as one may guess, +Outward they were, to Sight of Men. + +This Beggar was commanded then, +He that had held him to the King, +That he first choose upon this thing. +He saw them, but he felt them not, +So that upon his single Thought +He chose the Capon, and forsook +That other, which his Fellow took. + +But when he wist how that it fared, +He said aloud, that men it heard: +"Now have I certainly conceived +That he may lightly be deceived +Who puts his trust in Help of Man. +He's rich whom God helps, for he can +Stand ever on the safer side +That else on Vain Hope had relied. +I see my Fellow well supplied, +And still a Poor Man I abide." +Thus spake the Beggar his intent, +And poor he came, and poor he went; +Of all the Riches that he sought +His evil Fortune gave him nought. + +And right as it with those men stood, +Of evil Hap in worldly Good, +As thou hast heard me tell above, +Right so, full oft, it stands by Love; +Though thou desire it evermore +Thou shalt not have a whit the more, +But only what is meant for thee, +Of all the rest not worth a Pea. +And yet a long and endless Row +There be of Men who covet so +That whereas they a Woman see, +To ten or twelve though there may be, +The Love is now so little wise +That where the Beauty takes his Eyes +Anon the Man's whole Heart is there +And whispers Tales into her Ear, +And says on her his Love is set, +And thus he sets him to covet. +A hundred though he saw a day, +So would he have more than he may; +In each of them he finds somewhat +That pleaseth him, or this or that. +Some one, for she is white of skin, +Some one, for she is noble of kin, +Some one, for she hath a ruddy cheek, +Some one, for that she seemeth meek, +Some one, for that her eyes are gray, +Some one, for she can laugh and play, +Some one, for she is long and small, +Some one, for she is lithe and tall, +Some one, for she is pale and bleach, +Some one, for she is soft of speech, +Some one, for that her nose turns down, +Some one, for that she hath a frown, +Some one, for she can dance and sing; +So that of what he likes something +He finds, and though no more he feel +But that she hath a little heel, +It is enough that he therefore +Her love; and thus an hundred score +While they be new he would he had, +Whom he forsakes, she shall be bad. +So the Blind Man no Colour sees, +All's one to take as he may please; +And his Desire is darkly minded +Whom Covetise of Love hath blinded. + + + +LONDON LICKPENNY +BY JOHN LYDGATE. + + + +To London once my steps I bent, + Where truth in nowise should be faint; +To Westminster-ward I forthwith went, + To a man of law to make complaint, + I said, "For Mary's love, that holy saint, + Pity the poor that would proceed!" + But for lack of Money I could not speed. + +And as I thrust the press among, + By froward chance my hood was gone, +Yet for all that I stayed not long + Till to the King's Bench I was come. + Before the judge I kneeled anon, + And prayed him for God's sake to take heed. + But for lack of Money I might not speed. + +Beneath them sat clerks a great rout, + Which fast did write by one assent, +There stood up one and cried about, + "Richard, Robert, and John of Kent!" + I wist not well what this man meant, + He cried so thickly there indeed. + But he that lacked Money might not speed + +Unto the Common Pleas I yode tho, {81} + Where sat one with a silken hood; +I did him reverence, for I ought to do so, + And told my case as well as I could, + How my goods were defrauded me by falsehood. + I got not a mum of his mouth for my meed, + And for lack of Money I might not speed. + +Unto the Rolls I gat me from thence, + Before the clerks of the Chancerie, +Where many I found earning of pence, + But none at all once regarded me. + I gave them my plaint upon my knee; + They liked it well when they had it read, + But lacking Money I could not be sped. + +In Westminster Hall I found out one + Which went in a long gown of ray, {82a} +I crouched and kneeled before him anon, + For Mary's love of help I him pray. + "I wot not what thou mean'st," gan he say; + To get me thence he did me bede: + For lack of Money I could not speed. + +Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor + Would do for me aught although I should die. +Which seeing, I got me out of the door + Where Flemings began on me for to cry, + "Master, what will you copen or buy? {82b} + Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read? + Lay down your silver, and here you may speed." + +Then to Westminster Gate I presently went, + When the sun was at highe prime; +Cooks to me they took good intent, + And proffered me bread with ale and wine, + Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine; + A fair cloth they gan for to sprede, + But wanting Money I might not then speed. + +Then unto London I did me hie, + Of all the land it beareth the prize. +"Hot peascods!" one began to cry, + "Strawberry ripe!" and "Cherries in the rise!" {82c} + One bade me come near and buy some spice, + Pepper and saffron they gan me bede, + But for lack of Money I might not speed. + +Then to the Cheap I began me drawn, + Where much people I saw for to stand; +One offered me velvet, silk, and lawn, + Another he taketh me by the hand, + "Here is Paris thread, the finest in the land!" + I never was used to such things indeed, + And wanting Money I might not speed. + +Then went I forth by London Stone, + Throughout all Can'wick Street. {83} +Drapers much cloth me offered anon; + Then comes me one cried, "Hot sheep's feet!" + One cried, "Mackerel!" "Rushes green!" another gan greet; + One bade me buy a hood to cover my head, + But for want of Money I might not be sped, + +Then I hied me into East Cheap; + One cries "Ribs of beef," and many a pie; +Pewter pots they clattered on a heap, + There was harp, pipe, and minstrelsie. + "Yea, by cock!" "Nay, by cock!" some began cry; + Some sung of Jenkin and Julian for their meed, + But for lack of Money I might not speed. + +Then into Cornhill anon I yode, + Where was much stolen gear among; +I saw where hung mine owne hood + That I had lost among the throng: + To buy my own hood I thought it wrong; + I knew it well as I did my Creed, + But for lack of Money I could not speed. + +The taverner took me by the sleeve, + "Sir," saith he, "will you our wine assay?" +I answered, "That cannot much me grieve, + A penny can do no more than it may." + I drank a pint, and for it I did pay. + Yet soon ahungered from thence I yede, + And wanting Money I could not speed. + +Then hied I me to Billingsgate, + And one cried, "Hoo! Go we hence!" +I prayed a barge man, for God's sake, + That he would spare me my expence. + "Thou scrap'st not here," quoth he, "under two pence; + I list not yet bestow any alms deed." + Thus lacking Money I could not speed. + +Then I conveyed me into Kent; + For of the law would I meddle no more, +Because no man to me took intent, + I dight me to do as I did before. + Now Jesus, that in Bethlehem was bore, + Save London, and send true lawyers their meed! + For whoso wants Money with them shall not speed. + + + +BICORN AND CHICHEVACHE +BY JOHN LYDGATE. + + + +First there shall stand an image in Poet-wise, saying these verses:- + +O prudent folkes, taketh heed, + And remembreth in your lives +How this story doth proceed + Of the husbands and their wives, + Of their accord and their strives, + With life or death which to darrain {85a} + Is granted to these beastes twain. + +Then shall be pourtrayed two beasts, one fat; another lean. + +For this Bicorn of his nature + Will none other manner food, +But patient husbands his pasture, + And Chichevache eat'th the women good; + And both these beastes, by the Rood, + Be fat or lean, it may not fail, + Like lack or plenty of their vitail. + +Of Chichevache and of Bicorn, {85b} + Treateth wholly this matere, +Whose story hath taught us beforn + How these beastes both infere {85c} + Have their pasture, as you shall hear, + Of men and women in sentence + Through suffrance or through impatience. + +Then shall be pourtrayed a fat beast called Bicorn, of the country +of Bicornis, and say these three verses following:- + +"Of Bicornis I am Bicorn, + Full fat and round here as I stand, +And in marriage bound and sworn + To Chichevache as her husband, + Which will not eat on sea nor land + But patient wives debonair, + Which to their husbands be n't contraire + +"Full scarce, God wot, is her vitail, + Humble wives she finds so few, +For always at the contre tail + Their tongue clappeth and doth hew. + Such meeke wives I beshrew, + That neither can at bed ne board + Their husbands not forbear one word. + +"But my food and my cherishing, + To tell plainly and not to vary, +Is of such folks which, their living, + Dare to their wives be not contrary, + Ne from their lustes dare not vary, + Nor with them hold no champarty, {86a} + All such my stomach will defy." {86b} + +Then shall be pourtrayed a company of men coming towards this beast +Bicornis, and say these four ballads:- + +"Fellows, take heed and ye may see + How Bicorn casteth him to devour +All humble men, both you and me, + There is no gain may us succour; + Wo be therefore in hall and bower + To all those husbands which, their lives, + Make mistresses of their wives. + +"Who that so doth, this is the law, + That this Bicorn will him oppress +And devouren in his maw + That of his wife makes his mistress; + This will us bring in great distress, + For we, for our humility, + Of Bicorn shall devoured be. + +"We standen plainly in such case, + For they to us mistresses be; +We may well sing and say, 'Alas, + That we gave them the sovereigntie! + For we ben thrall and they be free. + Wherefore Bicorn, this cruel beast, + Will us devouren at the least. + +"But who that can be sovereign, + And his wife teach and chastise, +That she dare not a word gainsain + Nor disobey in no manner wise, + Of such a man I can devise + He stands under protection + From Bicornis jurisdiction." + +Then shall there be a woman devoured in the mouth of Chichevache, +crying to all wives, and say this verse:- + +"O noble wives, be well ware, + Take example now by me; +Or else affirme well I dare + Ye shall be dead, ye shall not flee; + Be crabbed, void humilitie, + Or Chichevache ne will not fail + You for to swallow in his entrail." + +Then shall there be pourtrayed a long-horned beast, slender and +lean, with sharp teeth, and on her body nothing but skin and bone. + +"Chichevache, this is my name, + Hungry, meagre, slender, and lean, +To show my body I have great shame, + For hunger I feel so great teen; {88c} + On me no fatness will be seen, + Because that pasture I find none, + Therefore I am but skin and bone. + +"For my feeding in existence + Is of women that be meek, +And like Grisield in patience + Or more their bounty for to eke; + But I full long may go and seek + Ere I can find a good repast, + A morrow to break with my fast. + +"I trow there be a dear year + Of patient women now-a-days. +Who grieveth them with word or cheer + Let him beware of such assays; + For it is more than thirty Mays + That I have sought from lond to lond, + But yet one Grisield ne'er I fond. + +"I found but one in all my live, + And she was dead ago full yore; +For more pasture I will not strive + Nor seeke for my food no more. + Ne for vitail me to restore; + Women ben woxen so prudent {88a} + They will no more be patient." + +Then shall be pourtrayed, after Chichevache, an old man with a baton +on his back, menacing the beast for devouring of his wife. + +"My wife, alas, devoured is, + Most patient and most pesible! +She never said to me amiss, + Whom now hath slain this beast horrible! + And for it is an impossible + To find again e'er such a wife + I will live sole all my life. + +"For now of newe, for their prow, {88b} + The wives of full high prudence +Have of assent made their avow + T' exile for ever patience, + And cried wolfs-head obedience, + To make Chichevache fail + Of them to finde more vitail. + +Now Chichevache may fast long + And die for all her cruelty, +Women have made themselves so strong + For to outrage humility. + O silly husbands, wo ben ye! + Such as can have no patience + Against your wives violence. + +If that ye suffer, ye be but dead, + Bicorn awaiteth you so sore; +Eke of your wives go stand in dread, + If ye gainsay them any more! + And thus ye stand, and have done yore, + Of life and death betwixt coveyne {89} + Linked in a double chain. + + + +BEST TO BE BLYTH +BY WILLIAM DUNBAR. + + + +Full oft I muse, and hes in thocht +How this fals Warld is ay on flocht, + Quhair no thing ferme is nor degest; {91a} {91d} +And when I haif my mynd all socht, + For to be blyth me think it best. + +This warld ever dois flicht and wary, {91b} +Fortoun sa fast hir quheill dois cary, + Na tyme but turning can tak rest; {91e} +For quhois fats change suld none be sary, + For to be blyth me think it best. + +Wald men considdir in mynd richt weill, +Or Fortoun on him turn hir quheill, + That erdly honour may nocht lest, +His fall less panefull he suld feill; + For to be blyth me think it best. + +Quha with this warld dois warsill and stryfe, {91c} +And dois his dayis in dolour dryfe, + Thocht he in lordschip be possest, +He levis bot ane wrechit lyfe: + For to be blyth me think it best. + +Off warldis gud and grit richess, +Quhat fruct hes man but merriness? + Thocht he this warld had eist and west, +All wer povertie but glaidness: + For to be blyth me think it best. + +Quho suld for tynsall drowp or de, {92a} +For thyng that is bot vanitie; + Sen to the lyfe that evir dois lest, +Heir is bot twynkling of an ee: + For to be blyth me think it best. + +Had I for warldis unkyndness +In hairt tane ony heviness, + Or fro my plesans bene opprest; +I had bene deid lang syne dowtless: + For to be blyth me think it best. + +How evir this warld do change and vary, +Lat us in hairt nevir moir be sary, + But evir be reddy and addrest +To pass out of this frawfull fary: {92b} + For to be blyth me think it best. + + + +DOWSABELL +BY MICHAEL DRAYTON. + + + +Far in the country of Arden +There woned a knight, hight Cassamen, {93d} + As bold as Isenbras: +Fell was he and eager bent +In battle and in tournament + As was good Sir Topas. + +He had, as antique stories tell, +A daughter cleped Dowsabell, + A maiden fair and free. +And for she was her fathers heir, +Full well she was yconned the leir {93a} {93b} + Of mickle courtesie. + +The silk well couth she twist and twine, +And make the fine marche pine, {93c} + And with the needle work; +And she couth help the priest to say +His matins on a holiday, + And sing a psalm in kirk. + +She ware a frock of frolic green +Might well become a maiden queen, + Which seemly was to see; +A hood to that so neat and fine, +In colour like the columbine, + Inwrought full featously. + +Her features all as fresh above +As is the grass that grows by Dove, + And lithe as lass of Kent. +Her skin as soft as Lemster wool, {94a} +And white as snow on Peakish hull, {94b} + Or swan that swims in Trent. + +This maiden, in a morn betime, +Went forth, when May was in the prime, + To get sweet setiwall, {94c} +The honeysuckle, the harlock, {94d} +The lily and the lady-smock, {94k} + To deck her summer-hall. {94e} + +Thus, as she wandered here and there, +And picked of the bloomy brere, + She chanced to espy +A shepherd sitting on a bank, +Like chanticleer he crowed crank, {94f} + And piped full merrily. + +He learned his sheep as he him list, {94g} +When he would whistle in his fist, + To feed about him round, +Whilst he full many a carol sang, +Until the fields and meadows rang, + And that the woods did sound. + +In favour this same shepherd swain +Was like the bedlam Tamburlaine + Which held proud kings in awe. +But meek as any lamb mought be, +And innocent of ill as he + Whom his lewd brother slaw. + +This shepherd ware a sheep-gray cloke, +Which was of the finest loke + That could be cut with shear; +His mittens were of bauzon's skin, {94h} +His cockers were of cordiwin, {94i} {94j} + His hood of minivere. + +His awl and lingell in a thong; {95a} +His tarbox on his broadbelt hung, + His breech of Cointree blue. +Full crisp and curled were his locks, +His brows as white as Albion rocks, + So like a lover true. + +And piping still he spent the day +So merry as the popinjay, + Which liked Dowsabell, +That would she ought, or would she nought, +This lad would never from her thought, + She in love-longing fell. + +At length she tucked up her frock, +White as the lily was her smock; + She drew the shepherd nigh; +But then the shepherd piped a good, +That all the sheep forsook their food, + To hear his melodie. + +"Thy sheep," quoth she, "cannot be lean +That have a jolly shepherd swain + The which can pipe so well." +"Yea, but," saith he, "their shepherd may, +If piping thus he pine away + In love of Dowsabell." + +"Of love, fond boy, take then no keep," {95b} +Quoth she; "Look well unto thy sheep, + Lest they should hap to stray." +Quoth he, "So had I done full well, +Had I not seen fair Dowsabell + Come forth to gather may." + +With that she 'gan to vail her head, +Her cheeks were like the roses red, + But not a word she said. +With that the shepherd 'gan to frown, +He threw his pretty pipes adown, + And on the ground him laid. + +Saith she, "I may not stay till night +And leave my summer-hall undight, + And all for love of thee." +"My cote," saith he, "nor yet my fold +Shall neither sheep nor shepherd hold, + Except thou favour me." + +Saith she, "Yet liever were I dead +Than I should [yield me to be wed], + And all for love of men." +Saith he, "Yet are you too unkind +If in your heart you cannot find + To love us now and then. + +"And I to thee will be as kind +As Colin was to Rosalind + Of courtesy the flower." +"Then will I be as true," quoth she, +"As ever maiden yet might be + Unto her paramour." + +With that she bent her snow-white knee +Down by the shepherd kneeled she, + And him she sweetly kist. +With that the shepherd whooped for joy. +Quoth he, "There's never shepherd's boy + That ever was so blist." + + + +NYMPHIDIA, THE COURT OF FAIRY +By MICHAEL DRAYTON. + + + +Old Chaucer doth of Topas tell, +Mad Rabelais of Pantagruel, +A later third of Dowsabel + With such poor trifles playing; +Others the like have laboured at, +Some of this thing and some of that, +And many of they knew not what, + But what they may be saying. + +Another sort there be, that will +Be talking of the Fairies still, +For never can they have their fill, + As they were wedded to them; +No tales of them their thirst can slake, +So much delight therein they take, +And some strange thing they fain would make, + Knew they the way to do them. + +Then since no Muse hath been so bold, +Or of the later, or the old, +Those elvish secrets to unfold, + Which lie from others' reading; +My active Muse to light shall bring +The court of that proud Fairy King, +And tell there of the revelling. + Jove prosper my proceeding! + +And thou, Nymphidia, gentle Fay, +Which, meeting me upon the way, +These secrets didst to me bewray, + Which now I am in telling; +My pretty, light, fantastic maid, +I here invoke thee to my aid, +That I may speak what thou hast said, + In numbers smoothly swelling. + +This palace standeth in the air, +By necromancy placed there, +That it no tempest needs to fear, + Which way soe'er it blow it. +And somewhat southward tow'rds the noon, +Whence lies a way up to the moon, +And thence the Fairy can as soon + Pass to the earth below it. + +The walls of spiders' legs are made +Well mortised and finely laid; +It was the master of his trade + It curiously that builded; +The windows of the eyes of cats, +And for the roof, instead of slats, +Is covered with the skins of bats, + With moonshine that are gilded. + +Hence Oberon him sport to make, +Their rest when weary mortals take, +And none but only fairies wake, + Descendeth for his pleasure; +And Mab, his merry Queen, by night +Bestrides young folks that lie upright, +(In elder times the mare that hight), + Which plagues them out of measure. + +Hence shadows, seeming idle shapes, +Of little frisking elves and apes +To earth do make their wanton scapes, + As hope of pastime hastes them; +Which maids think on the hearth they see +When fires well-nigh consumed be, +There dancing hays by two and three, {98} + Just as their fancy casts them. + +These make our girls their sluttery rue, +By pinching them both black and blue, +And put a penny in their shoe + The house for cleanly sweeping; +And in their courses make that round +In meadows and in marshes found, +Of them so called the Fairy Ground, + Of which they have the keeping. + +These when a child haps to be got +Which after proves an idiot +When folk perceive it thriveth not, + The fault therein to smother, +Some silly, doting, brainless calf +That understands things by the half, +Say that the Fairy left this oaf + And took away the other. + +But listen, and I shall you tell +A chance in Faery that befell, +Which certainly may please some well, + In love and arms delighting, +Of Oberon that jealous grew +Of one of his own Fairy crew, +Too well, he feared, his Queen that knew, + His love but ill requiting. + +Pigwiggin was this Fairy Knight, +One wondrous gracious in the sight +Of fair Queen Mab, which day and night + He amorously observed; +Which made King Oberon suspect +His service took too good effect, +His sauciness had often checkt, + And could have wished him sterved. + +Pigwiggin gladly would commend +Some token to Queen Mab to send, +If sea or land him aught could lend + Were worthy of her wearing; +At length this lover doth devise +A bracelet made of emmets' eyes, +A thing he thought that she would prize, + No whit her state impairing. + +And to the Queen a letter writes, +Which he most curiously indites, +Conjuring her by all the rites + Of love, she would be pleased +To meet him, her true servant, where +They might, without suspect or fear, +Themselves to one another clear + And have their poor hearts eased. + +At midnight, the appointed hour; +"And for the Queen a fitting bower," +Quoth he, "is that fair cowslip flower + On Hient Hill that bloweth; {100} +In all your train there's not a fay +That ever went to gather may +But she hath made it, in her way, + The tallest there that groweth." + +When by Tom Thumb, a Fairy Page, +He sent it, and doth him engage +By promise of a mighty wage + It secretly to carry; +Which done, the Queen her maids doth call, +And bids them to be ready all: +She would go see her summer hall, + She could no longer tarry. + +Her chariot ready straight is made, +Each thing therein is fitting laid, +That she by nothing might be stayed, + For nought must be her letting; +Four nimble gnats the horses were, +Their harnesses of gossamere, +Fly Cranion the charioteer + Upon the coach-box getting. + +Her chariot of a snail's fine shell, +Which for the colours did excel, +The fair Queen Mab becoming well, + So lively was the limning; +The seat the soft wool of the bee, +The cover, gallantly to see, +The wing of a pied butterfly; + I trow 'twas simple trimming. + +The wheels composed of cricket's bones, +And daintily made for the nonce, +For fear of rattling on the stones + With thistle-down they shod it; +For all her maidens much did fear +If Oberon had chanced to hear +That Mab his Queen should have been there, + He would not have abode it. + +She mounts her chariot with a trice, +Nor would she stay, for no advice, +Until her maids that were so nice + To wait on her were fitted; +But ran herself away alone, +Which when they heard, there was not one +But hasted after to be gone, + As he had been diswitted. + +Hop and Mop and Drop so clear, +Pip and Trip and Skip that were +To Mab, their sovereign, ever dear, + Her special maids of honour; +Fib and Tib and Pink and Pin, +Tick and Quick and Jill and Jin, +Tit and Nit and Wap and Win, + The train that wait upon her. + +Upon a grasshopper they got +And, what with amble, what with trot, +For hedge and ditch they spared not, + But after her they hie them; +A cobweb over them they throw, +To shield the wind if it should blow, +Themselves they wisely could bestow + Lest any should espy them. + +But let us leave Queen Mab awhile, +Through many a gate, o'er many a stile, +That now had gotten by this wile, + Her dear Pigwiggin kissing; +And tell how Oberon doth fare, +Who grew as mad as any hare +When he had sought each place with care, + And found his Queen was missing. + +By grisly Pluto he doth swear, +He rent his clothes and tore his hair, +And as he runneth here and there + An acorn cup he greeteth, +Which soon he taketh by the stalk, +About his head he lets it walk, +Nor doth he any creature balk, + But lays on all he meeteth. + +The Tuscan Poet doth advance, +The frantic Paladin of France, +And those more ancient do enhance + Alcides in his fury, +And others Aiax Telamon, +But to this time there hath been none +So Bedlam as our Oberon, + Of which I dare assure ye. + +And first encountering with a Wasp, +He in his arms the fly doth clasp +As though his breath he forth would grasp, + Him for Pigwiggin taking: +"Where is my wife, thou rogue?" quoth be; +"Pigwiggin, she is come to thee; +Restore her, or thou diest by me!" + Whereat the poor Wasp quaking + +Cries, "Oberon, great Fairy King, +Content thee, I am no such thing: +I am a Wasp, behold my sting!" + At which the Fairy started; +When soon away the Wasp doth go, +Poor wretch, was never frighted so; +He thought his wings were much too slow, + O'erjoyed they so were parted. + +He next upon a Glow-worm light, +You must suppose it now was night, +Which, for her hinder part was bright, + He took to be a devil, +And furiously doth her assail +For carrying fire in her tail; +He thrashed her rough coat with his flail; + The mad King feared no evil. + +"Oh!" quoth the Glow-worm, "hold thy hand, +Thou puissant King of Fairy-land! +Thy mighty strokes who may withstand? + Hold, or of life despair I!" +Together then herself doth roll, +And tumbling down into a hole +She seemed as black as any coal; + Which vext away the Fairy. + +From thence he ran into a hive: +Amongst the bees he letteth drive, +And down their combs begins to rive, + All likely to have spoiled, +Which with their wax his face besmeared, +And with their honey daubed his beard: +It would have made a man afeared + To see how he was moiled. + +A new adventure him betides; +He met an Ant, which he bestrides, +And post thereon away he rides, + Which with his haste doth stumble; +And came full over on her snout, +Her heels so threw the dirt about, +For she by no means could get out, + But over him doth tumble. + +And being in this piteous case, +And all be-slurred head and face, +On runs he in this wild-goose chase, + As here and there he rambles; +Half blind, against a mole-hill hit, +And for a mountain taking it, +For all he was out of his wit + Yet to the top he scrambles. + +And being gotten to the top, +Yet there himself he could not stop, +But down on th' other side doth chop, + And to the foot came rumbling; +So that the grubs, therein that bred, +Hearing such turmoil over head, +Thought surely they had all been dead; + So fearful was the jumbling. + +And falling down into a lake, +Which him up to the neck doth take, +His fury somewhat it doth slake; + He calleth for a ferry; +Where you may some recovery note; +What was his club he made his boat, +And in his oaken cup doth float, + As safe as in a wherry. + +Men talk of the adventures strange +Of Don Quixoit, and of their change +Through which he armed oft did range, + Of Sancho Pancha's travel; +But should a man tell every thing +Done by this frantic Fairy King, +And them in lofty numbers sing, + It well his wits might gravel. + +Scarce set on shore, but therewithal +He meeteth Puck, which most men call +Hobgoblin, and on him doth fall, + With words from frenzy spoken: +"Oh, oh," quoth Hob, "God save thy grace! +Who drest thee in this piteous case? +He thus that spoiled my sovereign's face, + I would his neck were broken!" + +This Puck seems but a dreaming dolt, +Still walking like a ragged colt, +And oft out of a bush doth bolt, + Of purpose to deceive us; +And leading us makes us to stray, +Long winter's nights, out of the way; +And when we stick in mire and clay, + Hob doth with laughter leave us. + +"Dear Puck," quoth he, "my wife is gone: +As e'er thou lov'st King Oberon, +Let everything but this alone, + With vengeance and pursue her; +Bring her to me alive or dead, +Or that vile thief, Pigwiggin's head, +That villain hath [my Queen misled]; + He to this folly drew her." + +Quoth Puck, "My liege, I'll never lin, +But I will thorough thick and thin, +Until at length I bring her in; + My dearest lord, ne'er doubt it." +Thorough brake, thorough briar, +Thorough muck, thorough mire, +Thorough water, thorough fire; + And thus goes Puck about it. + +This thing Nymphidia overheard, +That on this mad king had a guard, +Not doubting of a great reward, + For first this business broaching; +And through the air away doth go, +Swift as an arrow from the bow, +To let her sovereign Mab to know + What peril was approaching. + +The Queen, bound with Love's powerful charm, +Sate with Pigwiggin arm in arm; +Her merry maids, that thought no harm, + About the room were skipping; +A humble-bee, their minstrel, played +Upon his hautboy, every maid +Fit for this revel was arrayed, + The hornpipe neatly tripping. + +In comes Nymphidia, and doth cry, +"My sovereign, for your safety fly, +For there is danger but too nigh; + I posted to forewarn you: +The King hath sent Hobgoblin out, +To seek you all the fields about, +And of your safety you may doubt, + If he but once discern you." + +When, like an uproar in a town, +Before them everything went down; +Some tore a ruff, and some a gown, + 'Gainst one another justling; +They flew about like chaff i' th' wind; +For haste some left their masks behind; +Some could not stay their gloves to find; + There never was such bustling. + +Forth ran they, by a secret way, +Into a brake that near them lay; +Yet much they doubted there to stay, + Lest Hob should hap to find them; +He had a sharp and piercing sight, +All one to him the day and night; +And therefore were resolved, by flight, + To leave this place behind them. + +At length one chanced to find a nut, +In th' end of which a hole was cut, +Which lay upon a hazel root, + There scattered by a squirrel +Which out the kernel gotten had; +When quoth this Fay, "Dear Queen, be glad; +Let Oberon be ne'er so mad, + I'll set you safe from peril. + +"Come all into this nut," quoth she, +"Come closely in; be ruled by me; +Each one may here a chooser be, + For room ye need not wrastle: +Nor need ye be together heaped;" +So one by one therein they crept, +And lying down they soundly slept, + And safe as in a castle. + +Nymphidia, that this while doth watch, +Perceived if Puck the Queen should catch +That he should be her over-match, + Of which she well bethought her; +Found it must be some powerful charm, +The Queen against him that must arm, +Or surely he would do her harm, + For throughly he had sought her. + +And listening if she aught could hear, +That her might hinder, or might fear; +But finding still the coast was clear; + Nor creature had descried her; +Each circumstance and having scanned, +She came thereby to understand, +Puck would be with them out of hand; + When to her charms she hied her. + +And first her fern-seed doth bestow, +The kernel of the mistletoe; +And here and there as Puck should go, + With terror to affright him, +She night-shade strews to work him ill, +Therewith her vervain and her dill, +That hindreth witches of their will, + Of purpose to despite him. + +Then sprinkles she the juice of rue, +That groweth underneath the yew; +With nine drops of the midnight dew, + From lunary distilling: +The molewarp's brain mixed therewithal; {108a} +And with the same the pismire's gall: +For she in nothing short would fall, + The Fairy was so willing. + +Then thrice under a briar doth creep, +Which at both ends was rooted deep, +And over it three times she leap; + Her magic much availing: +Then on Proserpina doth call, +And so upon her spell doth fall, +Which here to you repeat I shall, + Not in one tittle failing. + +"By the croaking of a frog; +By the howling of the dog; +By the crying of the hog + Against the storm arising; +By the evening curfew bell, +By the doleful dying knell, +O let this my direful spell, + Hob, hinder thy surprising! + +"By the mandrake's dreadful groans; {108b} +By the lubrican's sad moans; {108c} +By the noise of dead men's bones + In charnel-houses rattling; +By the hissing of the snake, +The rustling of the fire-drake, {108d} +I charge thee thou this place forsake, + Nor of Queen Mab be prattling! + +"By the whirlwind's hollow sound, +By the thunder's dreadful stound, +Yells of spirits underground, + I charge thee not to fear us; +By the screech-owl's dismal note, +By the black night-raven's throat, +I charge thee, Hob, to tear thy coat + With thorns, if thou come near us!" + +Her spell thus spoke, she stept aside, +And in a chink herself doth hide, +To see thereof what would betide, + For she doth only mind him: +When presently she Puck espies, +And well she marked his gloating eyes, +How under every leaf he pries, + In seeking still to find them. + +But once the circle got within, +The charms to work do straight begin, +And he was caught as in a gin; + For as he thus was busy, +A pain he in his head-piece feels, +Against a stubbed tree he reels, +And up went poor Hobgoblin's heels, + Alas! his brain was dizzy! + +At length upon his feet he gets, +Hobgoblin fumes, Hobgoblin frets; +And as again he forward sets, + And through the bushes scrambles, +A stump doth trip him in his pace; +Down comes poor Hob upon his face, +And lamentably tore his case, + Amongst the briars and brambles. + +"A plague upon Queen Mab!" quoth he, +"And all her maids where'er they be +I think the devil guided me, + To seek her so provoked!" +Where stumbling at a piece of wood, +He fell into a ditch of mud, +Where to the very chin he stood, + In danger to be choked. + +Now worse than e'er he was before, +Poor Puck doth yell, poor Puck doth roar, +That waked Queen Mab, who doubted sore + Some treason had been wrought her: +Until Nymphidia told the Queen +What she had done, what she had seen, +Who then had well-near cracked her spleen + With very extreme laughter. + +But leave we Hob to clamber out, +Queen Mab and all her Fairy rout, +And come again to have a bout + With Oberon yet madding: +And with Pigwiggin now distraught, +Who much was troubled in his thought, +That he so long the Queen had sought, + And through the fields was gadding. + +And as he runs he still doth cry, +"King Oberon, I thee defy, +And dare thee here in arms to try, + For my dear lady's honour: +For that she is a Queen right good, +In whose defence I'll shed my blood, +And that thou in this jealous mood + Hast laid this slander on her." + +And quickly arms him for the field, +A little cockle-shell his shield, +Which he could very bravely wield; + Yet could it not be pierced: +His spear a bent both stiff and strong, +And well-near of two inches long: +The pile was of a horse-fly's tongue, + Whose sharpness nought reversed. + +And puts him on a coat of mail, +Which was made of a fish's scale, +That when his foe should him assail, + No point should be prevailing: +His rapier was a hornet's sting, +It was a very dangerous thing, +For if he chanced to hurt the King, + It would be long in healing. + +His helmet was a beetle's head, +Most horrible and full of dread, +That able was to strike one dead, + Yet did it well become him; +And for a plume a horse's hair, +Which, being tossed with the air, +Had force to strike his foe with fear, + And turn his weapon from him. + +Himself he on an earwig set, +Yet scarce he on his back could get, +So oft and high he did curvet, + Ere he himself could settle: +He made him turn, and stop, and bound, +To gallop, and to trot the round, +He scarce could stand on any ground, + He was so full of mettle. + +When soon he met with Tomalin, +One that a valiant knight had been, +And to King Oberon of kin; + Quoth he, "Thou manly Fairy, +Tell Oberon I come prepared, +Then bid him stand upon his guard; +This hand his baseness shall reward, + Let him be ne'er so wary. + +"Say to him thus, that I defy +His slanders and his infamy, +And as a mortal enemy + Do publicly proclaim him: +Withal that if I had mine own, +He should not wear the Fairy crown, +But with a vengeance should come down, + Nor we a king should name him." + +This Tomalin could not abide, +To hear his sovereign vilified; +But to the Fairy Court him hied, + (Full furiously he posted,) +With everything Pigwiggin said: +How title to the crown he laid, +And in what arms he was arrayed, + As how himself he boasted. + +Twixt head and foot, from point to point, +He told the arming of each joint, +In every piece how neat and quoint, + For Tomalin could do it: +How fair he sat, how sure he rid, +As of the courser he bestrid, +How managed, and how well he did: + The King which listened to it, + +Quoth he, "Go, Tomalin, with speed, +Provide me arms, provide my steed, +And everything that I shall need; + By thee I will be guided: +To straight account call thou thy wit; +See there be wanting not a whit, +In everything see thou me fit, + Just as my foe's provided." + +Soon flew this news through Fairy-land, +Which gave Queen Mab to understand +The combat that was then in hand + Betwixt those men so mighty: +Which greatly she began to rue, +Perceiving that all Fairy knew +The first occasion from her grew + Of these affairs so weighty. + +Wherefore attended with her maids, +Through fogs, and mists, and damps she wades, +To Proserpine the Queen of Shades, + To treat, that it would please her +The cause into her hands to take, +For ancient love and friendship's sake, +And soon thereof an end to make, + Which of much care would ease her. + +A while there let we Mab alone, +And come we to King Oberon, +Who, armed to meet his foe, is gone, + For proud Pigwiggin crying: +Who sought the Fairy King as fast, +And had so well his journeys cast, +That he arrived at the last, + His puissant foe espying. + +Stout Tomalin came with the King, +Tom Thumb doth on Pigwiggin bring, +That perfect were in everything + To single fights belonging: +And therefore they themselves engage, +To see them exercise their rage, +With fair and comely equipage, + Not one the other wronging. + +So like in arms these champions were, +As they had been a very pair, +So that a man would almost swear, + That either had been either; +Their furious steeds began to neigh, +That they were heard a mighty way; +Their staves upon their rests they lay; + Yet ere they flew together + +Their seconds minister an oath, +Which was indifferent to them both, +That on their knightly faith and troth + No magic them supplied; +And sought them that they had no charms, +Wherewith to work each other harms, +But came with simple open arms + To have their causes tried. + +Together furiously they ran, +That to the ground came horse and man; +The blood out of their helmets span, + So sharp were their encounters; +And though they to the earth were thrown, +Yet quickly they regained their own, +Such nimbleness was never shown, + They were two gallant mounters. + +When in a second course again +They forward came with might and main, +Yet which had better of the twain, + The seconds could not judge yet; +Their shields were into pieces cleft, +Their helmets from their heads were reft, +And to defend them nothing left, + These champions would not budge yet. + +Away from them their staves they threw, +Their cruel swords they quickly drew, +And freshly they the fight renew, + They every stroke redoubled: +Which made Proserpina take heed, +And make to them the greater speed, +For fear lest they too much should bleed, + Which wondrously her troubled. + +When to th' infernal Styx she goes, +She takes the fogs from thence that rose, +And in a bag doth them enclose: + When well she had them blended, +She hies her then to Lethe spring, {114} +A bottle and thereof doth bring, +Wherewith she meant to work the thing + Which only she intended. + +Now Proserpine with Mab is gone, +Unto the place where Oberon +And proud Pigwiggin, one to one, + Both to be slain were likely: +And there themselves they closely hide, +Because they would not be espied; +For Proserpine meant to decide + The matter very quickly. + +And suddenly unties the poke, +Which out of it sent such a smoke, +As ready was them all to choke, + So grievous was the pother; +So that the knights each other lost, +And stood as still as any post; +Tom Thumb nor Tomalin could boast + Themselves of any other. + +But when the mist 'gan somewhat cease, +Proserpina commandeth peace; +And that a while they should release + Each other of their peril: +"Which here," quoth she, "I do proclaim +To all in dreadful Pluto's name, +That as ye will eschew his blame, + You let me bear the quarrel: + +"But here yourselves you must engage, +Somewhat to cool your spleenish rage; +Your grievous thirst and to assuage + That first you drink this liquor, +Which shall your understanding clear, +As plainly shall to you appear; +Those things from me that you shall hear, + Conceiving much the quicker." + +This Lethe water, you must know, +The memory destroyeth so, +That of our weal, or of our woe, + Is all remembrance blotted; +Of it nor can you ever think, +For they no sooner took this drink, +But nought into their brains could sink + Of what had them besotted. + +King Oberon forgotten had, +That he for jealousy ran mad, +But of his Queen was wondrous glad, + And asked how they came thither: +Pigwiggin likewise doth forget +That he Queen Mab had ever met; +Or that they were so hard beset, + When they were found together. + +Nor neither of them both had thought, +That e'er they each had other sought, +Much less that they a combat fought, + But such a dream were lothing. +Tom Thumb had got a little sup, +And Tomalin scarce kissed the cup, +Yet had their brains so sure locked up, + That they remembered nothing. + +Queen Mab and her light maids, the while, +Amongst themselves do closely smile, +To see the King caught with this wile, + With one another jesting: +And to the Fairy Court they went, +With mickle joy and merriment, +Which thing was done with good intent, + And thus I left them feasting. + + + +POPE'S RAPE OF THE LOCK. +AN HEROI-COMICAL POEM. + + + + Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos; + Sed juvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis. + --MART., Epigr. xii. 84. + +CANTO I. + +What dire offence from amorous causes springs, +What mighty contests rise from trivial things, +I sing--This verse to Caryl, Muse! is due: +This, even Belinda may vouchsafe to view: +Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, +If she inspire, and he approve my lays. + + Say what strange motive, Goddess! could compel +A well-bred lord to assault a gentle belle? +O say what stranger cause, yet unexplored, +Could make a gentle belle reject a lord? +In tasks so bold, can little men engage, +And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty rage? + + Sol through white curtains shot a timorous ray, +And oped those eyes that must eclipse the day: +Now lap-dogs give themselves the rousing shake, +And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake: +Thrice rung the bell, the slipper knocked the ground, +And the pressed watch returned a silver sound. +Belinda still her downy pillow pressed, +Her guardian Sylph prolonged the balmy rest; +'Twas he had summoned to her silent bed +The morning-dream that hovered o'er her head; +A youth more glittering than a birth-night beau, +(That even in slumber caused her cheek to glow) +Seemed to her ear his winning lips to lay, +And thus in whispers said, or seemed to say: + + "Fairest of mortals, thou distinguished care +Of thousand bright inhabitants of air! +If e'er one vision touched thy infant thought, +Of all the nurse and all the priest have taught; +Of airy elves by moonlight shadows seen, +The silver token, and the circled green, +Or virgins visited by angel-powers, +With golden crowns and wreaths of heavenly flowers; +Hear and believe! thy own importance know, +Nor bound thy narrow views to things below. +Some secret truths, from learned pride concealed, +To maids alone and children are revealed: +What though no credit doubting wits may give? +The fair and innocent shall still believe. +Know, then, unnumbered spirits round thee fly, +The light militia of the lower sky: +These, though unseen, are ever on the wing, +Hang o'er the box, and hover round the ring. +Think what an equipage thou hast in air, +And view with scorn two pages and a chair. +As now your own, our beings were of old, +And once enclosed in woman's beauteous mould; +Thence, by a soft transition, we repair +From earthly vehicles to these of air. +Think not, when woman's transient breath is fled, +That all her vanities at once are dead; +Succeeding vanities she still regards, +And though she plays no more, o'erlooks the cards. +Her joy in gilded chariots, when alive, +And love of ombre, after death survive. +For when the fair in all their pride expire, +To their first elements their souls retire: +The sprites of fiery termagants in flame +Mount up, and take a Salamander's name. +Soft yielding minds to water glide away, +And sip, with nymphs, their elemental tea. +The graver prude sinks downward to a gnome, +In search of mischief still on earth to roam, +The light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair, +And sport and flutter in the fields of air. + + "Know further yet; whoever fair and chaste +Rejects mankind, is by some sylph embraced: +For spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease +Assume what sexes and what shapes they please. +What guards the purity of melting maids, +In courtly balls and midnight masquerades, +Safe from the treacherous friend, the daring spark, +The glance by day, the whisper in the dark, +When kind occasion prompts their warm desires, +When music softens, and when dancing fires? +'Tis but their sylph, the wise celestials know, +Though honour is the word with men below. + + "Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their face, +For life predestined to the gnomes' embrace. +These swell their prospects and exalt their pride, +When offers are disdained, and love denied: +Then gay ideas crowd the vacant brain, +While peers, and dukes, and all their sweeping train, +And garters, stars, and coronets appear, +And in soft sounds, Your Grace salutes their ear. +'Tis these that early taint the female soul, +Instruct the eyes of young coquettes to roll, +Teach infant cheeks a hidden blush to know, +And little hearts to flutter at a beau. + + "Oft, when the world imagine women stray, +The sylphs through mystic mazes guide their way, +Through all the giddy circle they pursue, +And old impertinence expel by new. +What tender maid but must a victim fall +To one man's treat, but for another's ball? +When Florio speaks what virgin could withstand, +If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand? +With varying vanities, from every part, +They shift the moving toyshop of their heart; +Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots strive, +Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive. +This erring mortal's levity may call; +Oh, blind to truth! the sylphs contrive it all. + + "Of these am I, who thy protection claim, +A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name. +Late, as I ranged the crystal wilds of air, +In the clear mirror of thy ruling star +I saw, alas! some dread event impend, +Ere to the main this morning sun descend, +But heaven reveals not what, or how, or where: +Warned by the sylph, oh pious maid, beware! +This to disclose is all thy guardian can: +Beware of all, but most beware of man!" + + He said; when Shock, who thought she slept too long, +Leaped up, and waked his mistress with his tongue. +'Twas then, Belinda, if report say true, +Thy eyes first opened on a billet-doux; +Wounds, charms, and ardours were no sooner read, +But all the vision vanished from thy head. + + And now, unveiled, the toilet stands displayed, +Each silver vase in mystic order laid. +First, robed in white, the nymph intent adores, +With head uncovered, the cosmetic powers. +A heavenly image in the glass appears, +To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears; +The inferior priestess, at her altar's side, +Trembling begins the sacred rites of pride. +Unnumbered treasures ope at once, and here +The various offerings of the world appear; +From each she nicely culls with curious toil, +And decks the goddess with the glittering spoil. +This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, +And all Arabia breathes from yonder box. +The tortoise here and elephant unite, +Transformed to combs, the speckled, and the white. +Here files of pins extend their shining rows, +Puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billet-doux. +Now awful beauty puts on all its arms; +The fair each moment rises in her charms, +Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace, +And calls forth all the wonders of her face; +Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, +And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes. +The busy sylphs surround their darling care, +These set the head, and those divide the hair, +Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown; +And Betty's praised for labours not her own. + + + +CANTO II. + +Not with more glories, in the ethereal plain, +The sun first rises o'er the purpled main, +Than, issuing forth, the rival of his beams +Launched on the bosom of the silver Thames. +Fair nymphs, and well-dressed youths around her shone, +But every eye was fixed on her alone. +On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, +Which Jews might kiss, and Infidels adore. +Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose, +Quick as her eyes, and as unfixed as those: +Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; +Oft she rejects, but never once offends. +Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, +And, like the sun, they shine on all alike, +Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, +Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide: +If to her share some female errors fall, +Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all. + + This nymph, to the destruction of mankind, +Nourished two locks, which graceful hung behind +In equal curls, and well conspired to deck +With shining ringlets the smooth ivory neck. +Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains, +And mighty hearts are held in slender chains. +With hairy springes we the birds betray, +Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey, +Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, +And beauty draws us with a single hair. + + Th' adventurous Baron the bright locks admired; +He saw, he wished, and to the prize aspired. +Resolved to win, he meditates the way, +By force to ravish, or by fraud betray; +For when success a lover's toil attends, +Few ask, if fraud or force attained his ends. + + For this, ere Phoebus rose, he had implored +Propitious heaven, and every power adored, +But chiefly Love--to Love an altar built, +Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt. +There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves; +And all the trophies of his former loves; +With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, +And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire, +Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes +Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize: +The powers gave ear, and granted half his prayer, +The rest, the winds dispersed in empty air. + + But now secure the painted vessel glides, +The sunbeams trembling on the floating tides: +While melting music steals upon the sky, +And softened sounds along the waters die; +Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play, +Belinda smiled, and all the world was gay. +All but the Sylph--with careful thoughts oppressed, +Th' impending woe sat heavy on his breast. +He summons straight his denizens of air; +The lucid squadrons round the sails repair: +Soft o'er the shrouds aerial whispers breathe, +That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath. +Some to the sun their insect wings unfold, +Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold; +Transparent forms, too fine for mortal sight, +Their fluid bodies half dissolved in light, +Loose to the wind their airy garments flew, +Thin glittering textures of the filmy dew, +Dipped in the richest tincture of the skies, +Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes, +While every beam new transient colours flings, +Colours that change whene'er they wave their wings. +Amid the circle, on the gilded mast, +Superior by the head, was Ariel placed; +His purple pinions opening to the sun, +He raised his azure wand, and thus begun: + + "Ye Sylphs and Sylphids, to your chief give ear! +Fays, Fairies, Genii, Elves, and Daemons, hear! +Ye know the spheres and various tasks assigned +By laws eternal to th' aerial kind. +Some in the fields of purest aether play, +And bask and whiten in the blaze of day. +Some guide the course of wandering orbs on high, +Or roll the planets through the boundless sky. +Some less refined, beneath the moon's pale light +Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the night, +Or suck the mists in grosser air below, +Or dip their pinions in the painted bow, +Or brew fierce tempests on the wintry main, +Or o'er the glebe distil the kindly rain. +Others on earth o'er human race preside, +Watch all their ways, and all their actions guide: +Of these the chief the care of nations own, +And guard with arms divine the British throne. + + "Our humbler province is to tend the fair, +Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care; +To save the powder from too rude a gale, +Nor let the imprisoned essences exhale; +To draw fresh colours from the vernal flowers; +To steal from rainbows ere they drop in showers +A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs, +Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs; +Nay oft, in dreams, invention we bestow, +To change a flounce or add a furbelow. + + "This day black omens threat the brightest fair +That e'er deserved a watchful spirit's care; +Some dire disaster, or by force or slight; +But what, or where, the fates have wrapt in night. +Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law, +Or some frail china jar receive a flaw; +Or stain her honour or her new brocade; +Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade; +Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball; +Or whether Heaven has doomed that Shock must fall, +Haste, then, ye spirits! to your charge repair: +The fluttering fan be Zephyretta's care; +The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign; +And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine; +Do thou, Crispissa, tend her favourite lock; +Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock. + + "To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note, +We trust th' important charge, the petticoat: +Oft have we known that sevenfold fence to fail, +Though stiff with hoops, and armed with ribs of whale; +Form a strong line about the silver bound, +And guard the wide circumference around. + + "Whatever spirit, careless of his charge, +His post neglects, or leaves the fair at large, +Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins, +Be stopped in vials, or transfixed with pins; +Or plunged in lakes of bitter washes lie, +Or wedged whole ages in a bodkin's eye: +Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain, +While clogged he beats his silken wings in vain; +Or alum styptics with contracting power +Shrink his thin essence like a rivelled flower; +Or, as Ixion fixed, the wretch shall feel +The giddy motion of the whirling mill, +In fumes of burning chocolate shall glow, +And tremble at the sea that froths below!" + + He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend; +Some, orb in orb, around the nymph extend; +Some thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair; +Some hang upon the pendants of her ear: +With beating hearts the dire event they wait, +Anxious and trembling, for the birth of Fate. + + + +CANTO III. + +Close by those meads, for ever crowned with flowers, +Where Thames with pride surveys his rising towers, +There stands a structure of majestic frame, +Which from the neighbouring Hampton takes its name. +Here Britain's statesmen oft the fall foredoom +Of foreign tyrants and of nymphs at home; +Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey, +Dost sometimes counsel take--and sometimes tea. + + Hither the heroes and the nymphs resort, +To taste awhile the pleasures of a court; +In various talk the instructive hours they passed, +Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; +One speaks the glory of the British Queen, +And one describes a charming Indian screen; +A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; +At every word a reputation dies. +Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause of chat, +With singing, laughing, ogling, AND ALL THAT. + + Meanwhile, declining from the noon of day, +The sun obliquely shoots his burning ray; +The hungry judges soon the sentence sign, +And wretches hang that jurymen may dine; +The merchant from the Exchange returns in peace, +And the long labours of the toilet cease. +Belinda now whom thirst of fame invites, +Burns to encounter two adventurous knights, +At Ombre singly to decide their doom; {125} +And swells her breast with conquests yet to come. +Straight the three bands prepare in arms to join, +Each band the number of the sacred nine. +Soon as she spreads her hand, the aerial guard +Descend, and sit on each important card: +First Ariel, perched upon a Matador, +Then each, according to the rank they bore; +For sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race, +Are, as when women, wondrous fond of place. + + Behold, four Kings in majesty revered, +With hoary whiskers and a forky beard; +And four fair Queens whose hands sustain a flower, +The expressive emblem of their softer power; +Four Knaves in garbs succinct, a trusty band, +Caps on their heads, and halberts in their hand; +And particoloured troops, a shining train, +Draw forth to combat on the velvet plain. + + The skilful Nymph reviews her force with care: +"Let Spades be trumps!" she said, and trumps they were. + + Now move to war her sable Matadores, +In show like leaders of the swarthy Moors. +Spadillio first, unconquerable lord, +Led off two captive trumps, and swept the board. +As many more Manillio forced to yield, +And marched a victor from the verdant field. +Him Basto followed, but his fate more hard +Gained but one trump and one plebeian card. +With his broad sabre next, a chief in years, +The hoary Majesty of Spades appears, +Puts forth one manly leg, to sight revealed, +The rest, his many-coloured robe concealed. +The rebel Knave, who dares his prince engage, +Proves the just victim of his royal rage. +Even mighty Pam, that Kings and Queens o'erthrew {126} +And mowed down armies in the fights of Lu, +Sad chance of war! now destitute of aid, +Falls undistinguished by the victor Spade! + + Thus far both armies to Belinda yield; +Now to the Baron fate inclines the field. +His warlike Amazon her host invades, +Th' imperial consort of the crown of Spades. +The Club's black tyrant first her victim died, +Spite of his haughty mien, and barbarous pride; +What boots the regal circle on his head, +His giant limbs, in state unwieldy spread; +That long behind he trails his pompous robe, +And, of all monarchs, only grasps the globe? + + The Baron now his Diamonds pours apace; +The embroidered King who shows but half his face, +And his refulgent Queen, with powers combined +Of broken troops an easy conquest find. +Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts, in wild disorder seen, +With throngs promiscuous strow the level green. +Thus when dispersed a routed army runs, +Of Asia's troops, and Afric's sable sons, +With like confusion different nations fly, +Of various habit, and of various dye, +The pierced battalions disunited fall, +In heaps on heaps; one fate o'erwhelms them all. + + The Knave of Diamonds tries his wily arts, +And wins (oh shameful chance!) the Queen of Hearts. +At this, the blood the virgin's cheek forsook, +A livid paleness spreads o'er all her look; +She sees, and trembles at th' approaching ill, +Just in the jaws of ruin, and codille. +And now (as oft in some distempered State) +On one nice trick depends the general fate. +An Ace of Hearts steps forth: the King unseen +Lurked in her hand, and mourned his captive Queen: +He springs to vengeance with an eager pace, +And falls like thunder on the prostrate Ace. +The nymph exulting fills with shouts the sky; +The walls, the woods, and long canals reply. + + Oh thoughtless mortals, ever blind to fate, +Too soon dejected, and too soon elate! +Sudden, these honours shall be snatched away, +And cursed for ever this victorious day. + + For lo, the board with cups and spoons is crowned, +The berries crackle, and the mill turns round; +On shining altars of Japan they raise +The silver lamp; the fiery spirits blaze: +From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide, +While China's earth receives the smoking tide: +At once they gratify their scent and taste, +And frequent cups prolong the rich repast. +Straight hover round the Fair her airy band; +Some, as she sipped, the fuming liquor fanned, +Some o'er her lap their careful plumes displayed, +Trembling, and conscious of the rich brocade. +Coffee (which makes the politician wise, +And see through all things with his half-shut eyes) +Sent up in vapours to the Baron's brain +New stratagems the radiant Lock to gain. +Ah cease, rash youth! desist ere 'tis too late, +Fear the just Gods, and think of Scylla's fate! +Changed to a bird, and sent to flit in air, +She dearly pays for Nisus' injured hair! + + But when to mischief mortals bend their will, +How soon they find fit instruments of ill! +Just then, Clarissa drew with tempting grace +A two-edged weapon from her shining case: +So ladies in romance assist their knight, +Present the spear, and arm him for the fight. +He takes the gift with reverence, and extends +The little engine on his fingers' ends; +This just behind Belinda's neck he spread, +As o'er the fragrant steams she bends her head. +Swift to the lock a thousand sprites repair, +A thousand wings, by turns, blow back the hair; +And thrice they twitched the diamond in her ear; +Thrice she looked back, and thrice the foe drew near. +Just in that instant, anxious Ariel sought +The close recesses of the virgin's thought; +As on the nosegay in her breast reclined, +He watched the ideas rising in her mind, +Sudden he viewed, in spite of all her art, +An earthly lover lurking at her heart. +Amazed, confused, he found his power expired, +Resigned to fate, and with a sigh retired. + + The peer now spreads the glittering forfex wide, +To inclose the lock; now joins it, to divide. +Even then, before the fatal engine closed, +A wretched sylph too fondly interposed; +Fate urged the shears, and cut the sylph in twain +(But airy substance soon unites again), +The meeting points the sacred hair dissever +From the fair head, for ever, and for ever! + + Then flashed the living lightning from her eyes, +And screams of horror rend the affrighted skies. +Not louder shrieks to pitying heaven are cast, +When husbands or when lapdogs breathe their last; +Or when rich china vessels fallen from high, +In glittering dust and painted fragments lie! + + "Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine," +The victor cried, "the glorious prize is mine! +While fish in streams, or birds delight in air, +Or in a coach-and-six the British fair, +As long as Atalantis shall be read, {129} +Or the small pillow grace a lady's bed, +While visits shall be paid on solemn days, +When numerous wax-lights in bright order blaze, +While nymphs take treats, or assignations give, +So long my honour, name, and praise shall live! +What time would spare, from steel receives its date, +And monuments, like men, submit to fate! +Steel could the labour of the gods destroy, +And strike to dust th' imperial towers of Troy; +Steel could the works of mortal pride confound, +And hew triumphal arches to the ground. +What wonder then, fair nymph! thy hairs should feel +The conquering force of unresisting steel? + + + +CANTO IV. + +But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppressed, +And secret passions laboured in her breast. +Not youthful kings in battle seized alive, +Not scornful virgins who their charms survive, +Not ardent lovers robbed of all their bliss, +Not ancient ladies when refused a kiss, +Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die, +Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinned awry, +E'er felt such rage, resentment, and despair, +As thou, sad virgin! for thy ravished hair. + + For that sad moment when the sylphs withdrew. +And Ariel weeping from Belinda flew, +Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite, +As ever sullied the fair face of light, +Down to the central earth, his proper scene, +Repaired to search the gloomy cave of Spleen. + + Swift on his sooty pinions flits the gnome, +And in a vapour reached the dismal dome. +No cheerful breeze this sullen region knows, +The dreaded east is all the wind that blows. +Here in a grotto, sheltered close from air, +And screened in shades from day's detested glare, +She sighs for ever on her pensive bed, +Pain at her side, and Megrim at her head. {130} + + Two handmaids wait the throne: alike in place, +But differing far in figure and in face. +Here stood Ill-nature like an ancient maid, +Her wrinkled form in black and white arrayed; +With store of prayers, for mornings, nights, and noons, +Her hand is filled; her bosom with lampoons. + + There Affectation, with a sickly mien, +Shows in her cheek the roses of eighteen, +Practised to lisp, and hang the head aside, +Faints into airs, and languishes with pride, +On the rich quilt sinks with becoming woe, +Wrapped in a gown, for sickness, and for show. +The fair ones feel such maladies as these, +When each new night-dress gives a new disease. +A constant vapour o'er the palace flies; +Strange phantoms rising as the mists arise; +Dreadful as hermit's dreams in haunted shades, +Or bright as visions of expiring maids. +Now glaring fiends, and snakes on rolling spires, +Pale spectres, gaping tombs, and purple fires: +Now lakes of liquid gold, Elysian scenes, +And crystal domes and angels in machines. + + Unnumbered throngs on every side are seen, +Of bodies changed to various forms by Spleen. +Here living tea-pots stand, one arm held out, +One bent; the handle this, and that the spout: +A pipkin there, like Homer's tripod walks; +Here sighs a jar, and there a goose-pie talks; +Men prove with child, as powerful fancy works, +And maids turned bottles call aloud for corks. + + Safe past the Gnome, through this fantastic band, +A branch of healing spleenwort in his hand. +Then thus addressed the power: "Hail, wayward Queen! +Who rule the sex to fifty from fifteen: +Parent of vapours and of female wit, +Who give the hysteric, or poetic fit, +On various tempers act by various ways, +Make some take physic, others scribble plays; +Who cause the proud their visits to delay, +And send the godly in a pet to pray. +A nymph there is, that all thy power disdains, +And thousands more in equal mirth maintains. +But oh! if e'er thy gnome could spoil a grace, +Or raise a pimple on a beauteous face, +Like citron-waters matrons' cheeks inflame, +Or change complexions at a losing game; +If e'er with airy horns I planted heads, +Or rumpled petticoats, or tumbled beds, +Or caused suspicion when no soul was rude, +Or discomposed the head-dress of a prude, +Or e'er to costive lapdog gave disease, +Which not the tears of brightest eyes could ease: +Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin, +That single act gives half the world the spleen." + + The Goddess with a discontented air +Seems to reject him, though she grants his prayer. +A wondrous bag with both her hands she binds, +Like that where once Ulysses held the winds; +There she collects the force of female lungs, +Sighs, sobs, and passions, and the war of tongues. +A vial next she fills with fainting fears, +Soft sorrows, melting griefs, and flowing tears. +The gnome rejoicing bears her gifts away, +Spreads his black wings, and slowly mounts to day. + + Sunk in Thalestris' arms the nymph he found, +Her eyes dejected and her hair unbound. +Full o'er their heads the swelling bag he rent, +And all the Furies issued at the vent. +Belinda burns with more than mortal ire, +And fierce Thalestris fans the rising fire. +"O wretched maid!" she spread her hands, and cried, +(While Hampton's echoes, "Wretched maid!" replied) +"Was it for this you took such constant care +The bodkin, comb, and essence to prepare? +For this your locks in paper durance bound, +For this with torturing irons wreathed around? +For this with fillets strained your tender head, +And bravely bore the double loads of lead? +Gods! shall the ravisher display your hair, +While the fops envy, and the ladies stare! +Honour forbid! at whose unrivalled shrine +Ease, pleasure, virtue, all our sex resign. +Methinks already I your tears survey, +Already hear the horrid things they say, +Already see you a degraded toast, +And all your honour in a whisper lost! +How shall I, then, your helpless fame defend? +'Twill then be infamy to seem your friend! +And shall this prize, the inestimable prize, +Exposed through crystal to the gazing eyes, +And heightened by the diamond's circling rays, +On that rapacious hand for ever blaze? +Sooner shall grass in Hyde Park Circus grow, +And wits take lodgings in the sound of Bow; +Sooner let earth, air, sea, to chaos fall, +Men, monkeys, lap-dogs, parrots, perish all!" + + She said; then raging to Sir Plume repairs, +And bids her beau demand the precious hairs: +(Sir Plume of amber snuff-box justly vain, +And the nice conduct of a clouded cane) +With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face, +He first the snuff-box opened, then the case, +And thus broke out--"My Lord, why what the devil? +Zounds! damn the lock! 'fore Gad, you must be civil! +Plague on't! 'tis past a jest--nay prithee, pox! +Give her the hair"--he spoke, and rapped his box. + + "It grieves me much" (replied the Peer again) +"Who speaks so well should ever speak in vain. +But by this lock, this sacred lock, I swear, +(Which never more shall join its parted hair; +Which never more its honours shall renew, +Clipped from the lovely head where late it grew) +That while my nostrils draw the vital air, +This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear." +He spoke, and speaking, in proud triumph spread +The long-contended honours of her head. + + But Umbriel, hateful gnome! forbears not so; +He breaks the vial whence the sorrows flow. +Then see! the nymph in beauteous grief appears, +Her eyes half-languishing, half-drowned in tears; +On her heaved bosom hung her drooping head, +Which, with a sigh, she raised; and thus she said: + + "For ever cursed be this detested day, +Which snatched my best, my favourite curl away! +Happy! ah, ten times happy had I been, +If Hampton Court these eyes had never seen! +Yet am not I the first mistaken maid, +By love of courts to numerous ills betrayed. +Oh had I rather unadmired remained +In some lone isle, or distant Northern land, +Where the gilt chariot never marks the way, +Where none learn ombre, none e'er taste Bohea; +There kept my charms concealed from mortal eye, +Like roses that in deserts bloom and die! +What moved my mind with youthful lords to roam? +Oh had I stayed, and said my prayers at home! +'Twas this, the morning omens seemed to tell, +Thrice from my trembling hand the patch-box fell; +The tottering china shook without a wind, +Nay, Poll sat mute, and Shock was most unkind! +A sylph, too, warned me of the threats of fate, +In mystic visions, now believed too late! +See the poor remnants of these slighted hairs! +My hands shall rend what even thy rapine spares: +These in two sable ringlets taught to break, +Once gave new beauties to the snowy neck; +The sister-lock now sits uncouth, alone, +And in its fellow's fate foresees its own; +Uncurled it hangs, the fatal shears demands, +And tempts once more thy sacrilegious hands. +Oh hadst thou, cruel! been content to seize +Hairs less in sight, or any hairs but these!" + + + +CANTO V. + +She said: the pitying audience melt in tears. +But Fate and Jove had stopped the Baron's ears. +In vain Thalestris with reproach assails, +For who can move when fair Belinda fails? +Not half so fixed the Trojan could remain, +While Anna begged and Dido raged in vain. +Then grave Clarissa graceful waved her fan; +Silence ensued, and thus the nymph began: + + "Say why are beauties praised and honoured most, +The wise man's passion, and the vain man's toast? +Why decked with all that land and sea afford, +Why angels called, and angel-like adored? +Why round our coaches crowd the white-gloved beaux, +Why bows the side-box from its inmost rows; +How vain are all these glories, all our pains, +Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains: +That men may say, when we the front-box grace: +'Behold the first in virtue as in face!' +Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, +Charmed the smallpox, or chased old age away, +Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce, +Or who would learn one earthly thing of use? +To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint, +Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint. +But since, alas! frail beauty must decay; +Curled or uncurled, since locks will turn to grey; +Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade, +And she who scorns a man, must die a maid; +What then remains but well our power to use, +And keep good-humour still whate'er we lose? +And trust me, dear! good-humour can prevail, +When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail. +Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; +Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul." + + So spoke the dame, but no applause ensued; +Belinda frowned, Thalestris called her Prude. +"To arms, to arms!" the fierce virago cries, +And swift as lightning to the combat flies. +All side in parties, and begin the attack; +Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack; +Heroes' and heroines' shouts confusedly rise, +And bass and treble voices strike the skies. +No common weapons in their hands are found, +Like gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound. + + So when bold Homer makes the gods engage, +And heavenly breasts with human passions rage; +'Gainst Pallas, Mars; Latona, Hermes arms; +And all Olympus rings with loud alarms: +Jove's thunder roars, heaven trembles all around, +Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound, +Earth shakes her nodding towers, the ground gives way, +And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day! + + Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's height +Clapped his glad wings, and sate to view the fight; +Propped on their bodkin spears, the sprites survey +The growing combat, or assist the fray. + + While through the press enraged Thalestris flies, +And scatters death around from both her eyes, +A beau and witling perished in the throng, +One died in metaphor, and one in song. + + "O cruel nymph! a living death I bear," +Cried Dapperwit, and sunk beside his chair. +A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards cast, +"Those eyes are made so killing"--was his last. +Thus on Maeander's flowery margin lies +The expiring swan, and as he sings he dies. + + When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down, +Chloe stepped in, and killed him with a frown; +She smiled to see the doughty hero slain, +But, at her smile, the beau revived again. + + Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air, +Weighs the men's wits against the ladies' hair; +The doubtful beam long nods from side to side; +At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside. + + See, fierce Belinda on the Baron flies, +With more than usual lightning in her eyes: +Nor feared the chief the unequal fight to try, +Who sought no more than on his foe to die. +But this bold lord with manly strength endued, +She with one finger and a thumb subdued: +Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew, +A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw; +The gnomes direct, to every atom just, +The pungent grains of titillating dust. +Sudden, with starting tears each eye o'erflows, +And the high dome re-echoes to his nose. + + "Now meet thy fate," incensed Belinda cried, +And drew a deadly bodkin from her side. +(The same, his ancient personage to deck, +Her great-great-grandsire wore about his neck, +In three seal-rings; which after, melted down, +Formed a vast buckle for his widow's gown; +Her infant grandame's whistle next it grew, +The bells she jingled, and the whistle blew; +Then in a bodkin graced her mother's hairs, +Which long she wore, and now Belinda wears). + + "Boast not my fall," he cried, "insulting foe! +Thou by some other shalt be laid as low, +Nor think to die dejects my lofty mind: +All that I dread is leaving you behind! +Rather than so, ah! let me still survive, +And burn in Cupid's flames--but burn alive." + + "Restore the lock!" she cries; and all around +"Restore the lock!" the vaulted roofs rebound. +Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain +Roared for the handkerchief that caused his pain. +But see how oft ambitious aims are crossed, +And chiefs contend till all the prize is lost! +The lock, obtained with guilt, and kept with pain, +In every place is sought, but sought in vain: +With such a prize no mortal must be blest, +So Heaven decrees: with Heaven who can contest? + + Some thought it mounted to the lunar sphere, +Since all things lost on earth are treasured there, +There heroes' wits are kept in ponderous vases, +And beaux' in snuff-boxes and tweezer-cases. +There broken vows and death-bed alms are found, +And lovers' hearts with ends of riband bound, +The courtiers promises, and sick man's prayers, +The smiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs, +Cages for gnats, and chains to yoke a flea, +Dried butterflies and tomes of casuistry. + + But trust the Muse--she saw it upward rise, +Though marked by none but quick, poetic eyes: +(So Rome's great founder to the heavens withdrew, +To Proculus alone confessed in view) +A sudden star, it shot through liquid air, +And drew behind a radiant trail of hair. +Not Berenice's locks first rose so bright, +The heavens bespangling with dishevelled light. +The sylphs behold it kindling as it flies, +And pleased pursue its progress through the skies. + + This the beau-monde shall from the Mall survey, +And hail with music its propitious ray. +This the blest lover shall for Venus take, +And send up vows from Rosamonda's lake. +This Partridge soon shall view in cloudless skies, {137} +When next he looks through Galileo's eyes; +And hence the egregious wizard shall foredoom +The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome. + + Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravished hair, +Which adds new glory to the shining sphere! +Not all the tresses that fair head can boast, +Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost. +For, after all the murders of your eye, +When, after millions slain, yourself shall die: +When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, +And all those tresses shall be laid in dust, +This lock the Muse shall consecrate to fame, +And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name. + + + +THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN: +SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED AND CAME SAFE HOME +AGAIN. + + + +BY WILLIAM COWPER. + +John Gilpin was a citizen + Of credit and renown, +A train-band captain eke was he + Of famous London town. + +John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, + "Though wedded we have been +These twice ten tedious years, yet we + No holiday have seen. + +"To-morrow is our wedding-day, + And we will then repair +Unto the Bell at Edmonton, + All in a chaise and pair. + +"My sister, and my sister's child, + Myself, and children three, +Will fill the chaise; so you must ride + On horseback after we." + +He soon replied, "I do admire + Of womankind but one, +And you are she, my dearest dear, + Therefore it shall be done. + +"I am a linen-draper bold, + As all the world doth know, +And my good friend the calender + Will lend his horse to go." + +Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said: + And for that wine is dear, +We will be furnished with our own, + Which is both bright and clear." + +John Gilpin kissed his loving wife; + O'erjoyed was he to find, +That though on pleasure she was bent, + She had a frugal mind. + +The morning came, the chaise was brought, + But yet was not allowed +To drive up to the door, lest all + Should say that she was proud. + +So three doors off the chaise was stayed, + Where they did all get in; +Six precious souls, and all agog + To dash through thick and thin. + +Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, + Were never folk so glad, +The stones did rattle underneath, + As if Cheapside were mad. + +John Gilpin at his horse's side + Seized fast the flowing mane, +And up he got, in haste to ride, + But soon came down again; + +For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, + His journey to begin, +When, turning round his head, he saw + Three customers come in. + +So down he came; for loss of time, + Although it grieved him sore, +Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, + Would trouble him much more. + +'Twas long before the customers + Were suited to their mind, +When Betty screaming came downstairs, + "The wine is left behind!" + +"Good lack!" quoth he--"yet bring it me, + My leathern belt likewise, +In which I bear my trusty sword, + When I do exercise." + +Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul!) + Had two stone bottles found, +To hold the liquor that she loved, + And keep it safe and sound. + +Each bottle had a curling ear, + Through which the belt he drew, +And hung a bottle on each side, + To make his balance true. + +Then over all, that he might be + Equipped from top to toe, +His long red cloak, well brushed and neat, + He manfully did throw. + +Now see him mounted once again + Upon his nimble steed, +Full slowly pacing o'er the stones, + With caution and good heed. + +But finding soon a smoother road + Beneath his well-shod feet, +The snorting beast began to trot, + Which galled him in his seat. + +So, "Fair and softly," John he cried, + But John he cried in vain; +That trot became a gallop soon, + In spite of curb and rein. + +So stooping down, as needs he must + Who cannot sit upright, +He grasped the mane with both his hands, + And eke with all his might. + +His horse, who never in that sort + Had handled been before, +What thing upon his back had got + Did wonder more and more. + +Away went Gilpin, neck or nought; + Away went hat and wig; +He little dreamt, when he set out, + Of running such a rig. + +The wind did blow, the cloak did fly, + Like streamer long and gay, +Till, loop and button failing both, + At last it flew away. + +Then might all people well discern + The bottles he had slung; +A bottle swinging at each side, + As hath been said or sung. + +The dogs did bark, the children screamed, + Up flew the windows all; +And every soul cried out, "Well done!" + As loud as he could bawl. + +Away went Gilpin--who but he? + His fame soon spread around; +"He carries weight!" "He rides a race!" + "'Tis for a thousand pound!" + +And still, as fast as he drew near, + 'Twas wonderful to view, +How in a trice the turnpike-men + Their gates wide open threw. + +And now, as he went bowing down + His reeking head full low, +The bottles twain behind his back + Were shattered at a blow. + +Down ran the wine into the road, + Most piteous to be seen, +Which made his horse's flanks to smoke + As they had basted been. + +But still be seemed to carry weight, + With leathern girdle braced; +For all might see the bottle-necks + Still dangling at his waist. + +Thus all through merry Islington + These gambols he did play, +Until he came unto the Wash + Of Edmonton so gay; + +And there he threw the Wash about + On both sides of the way, +Just like unto a trundling mop, + Or a wild goose at play. + +At Edmonton his loving wife + From the balcony spied +Her tender husband, wondering much + To see how he did ride. + +"Stop, stop, John Gilpin!--Here's the house!" + They all at once did cry; +"The dinner waits, and we are tired;" + Said Gilpin--"So am I!" + +But yet his horse was not a whit + Inclined to tarry there! +For why?--his owner had a house + Full ten miles off, at Ware. + +So like an arrow swift he flew, + Shot by an archer strong; +So did he fly--which brings me to + The middle of my song. + +Away went Gilpin, out of breath, + And sore against his will, +Till at his friend the calender's + His horse at last stood still. + +The calender, amazed to see + His neighbour in such trim, +Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, + And thus accosted him: + +"What news? what news? your tidings tell! + Tell me you must and shall - +Say why bareheaded you are come, + Or why you come at all?" + +Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, + And loved a timely joke; +And thus unto the calender + In merry guise he spoke: + +"I came because your horse would come, + And, if I well forbode, +My hat and wig will soon be here - + They are upon the road." + +The calender, right glad to find + His friend in merry pin, +Returned him not a single word, + But to the house went in; + +Whence straight he came with hat and wig; + A wig that flowed behind, +A hat not much the worse for wear, + Each comely in its kind. + +He held them up, and in his turn + Thus showed his ready wit, +"My head is twice as big as yours, + They therefore needs must fit. + +"But let me scrape the dirt away + That hangs upon your face; +And stop and eat, for well you may + Be in a hungry case." + +Said John, "It is my wedding-day, + And all the world would stare, +If wife should dine at Edmonton, + And I should dine at Ware." + +So turning to his horse, he said, + "I am in haste to dine; +'Twas for your pleasure you came here, + You shall go back for mine." + +Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast! + For which he paid full dear; +For, while he spake, a braying ass + Did sing most loud and clear; + +Whereat his horse did snort, as he + Had heard a lion roar, +And galloped off with all his might, + As he had done before. + +Away went Gilpin, and away + Went Gilpin's hat and wig: +He lost them sooner than at first; + For why?--they were too big. + +Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw + Her husband posting down +Into the country far away, + She pulled out half-a-crown; + +And thus unto the youth she said + That drove them to the Bell, +"This shall be yours, when you bring back + My husband safe and well." + +The youth did ride, and soon did meet + John coming back amain: +Whom in a trice he tried to stop, + By catching at his rein; + +But not performing what he meant, + And gladly would have done, +The frighted steed he frighted more + And made him faster run. + +Away went Gilpin, and away + Went postboy at his heels, +The postboy's horse right glad to miss + The lumbering of the wheels. + +Six gentlemen upon the road, + Thus seeing Gilpin fly, +With postboy scampering in the rear, + They raised the hue and cry: + +"Stop thief! stop thief!--a highwayman!" + Not one of them was mute; +And all and each that passed that way + Did join in the pursuit. + +And now the turnpike gates again + Flew open in short space; +The toll-men thinking, as before, + That Gilpin rode a race. + +And so he did, and won it too, + For he got first to town; +Nor stopped till where he had got up + He did again get down. + +Now let us sing, Long live the king! + And Gilpin, long live he! +And when he next doth ride abroad + May I be there to see! + + + +TAM O'SHANTER: A TALE + + + +BY ROBERT BURNS. + + "Of brownyis and of bogilis full is this buke." + --GAWIN DOUGLAS. + +When chapman billies leave the street, {147a} +And drouthy neibors neibors meet, {147b} +As market days are wearin' late, +And folk begin to tak the gate; {147h} +While we sit bousing at the nappy, +And gettin' fou and unco' happy, {147c} +We think na on the lang Scots miles, +The mosses, waters, slaps, and stiles, {147d} +That lie between us and our hame, +Whare sits our sulky sullen dame, +Gathering her brows like gathering storm, +Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. + +This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter, +As he frae Ayr ae night did canter, +(Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses +For honest men and bonny lasses.) + +O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise +As ta'en thy ain wife Kate's advice! +She tauld thee weel thou wast a skellum, {147e} +A blethering, blustering, drunken blellum; {147f} +That frae November till October, +Ae market day thou wasna sober; +That ilka melder, wi' the miller {147g} {147i} +Thou sat as lang as thou hadst siller; +That every naig was ca'd a shoe on, +The smith and thee gat roaring fou on; +That at the Lord's house, even on Sunday, +Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday. {148f} +She prophesied that, late or soon, +Thou wouldst be found deep drowned in Doon! +Or catched wi' warlocks i' the mirk, {148a} +By Alloway's auld haunted kirk. + +Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet {148b} +To think how mony counsels sweet, +How mony lengthened, sage advices, +The husband frae the wife despises! + +But to our tale:- Ae market night, +Tam had got planted unco right. +Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, {148c} +Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely; {148d} +And at his elbow, Souter Johnny, +His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony; +Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither - +They had been fou for weeks thegither! +The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter, +And aye the ale was growing better: +The landlady and Tam grew gracious, +Wi' favours secret, sweet, and precious; +The Souter tauld his queerest stories, +The landlord's laugh was ready chorus: +The storm without might rair and rustle - +Tam didna mind the storm a whistle. + +Care, mad to see a man sae happy, +E'en drowned himsel among the nappy! {148e} +As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, +The minutes winged their way wi' pleasure: +Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, +O'er a' the ills o' life victorious! + +But pleasures are like poppies spread, +You seize the flower, its bloom is shed! +Or like the snowfall in the river, +A moment white--then melts for ever; +Or like the borealis race, +That flit ere you can point their place; +Or like the rainbow's lovely form, +Evanishing amid the storm. +Nae man can tether time or tide; +The hour approaches, Tam maun ride; +That hour, o' night's black arch the keystane, +That dreary hour he mounts his beast in; +And sic a night he taks the road in +As never poor sinner was abroad in. + +The wind blew as 'twad blown its last; +The rattling showers rose on the blast; +The speedy gleams the darkness swallowed; +Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellowed: +That night, a child might understand +The deil had business on his hand. + +Weel mounted on his grey mare, Meg, +A better never lifted leg, +Tam skelpit on through dub and mire, {149a} +Despising wind, and rain, and fire; +Whiles holding fast his guid blue bonnet, +Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet; +Whiles glowering round wi' prudent cares, +Lest bogles catch him unawares: +Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh, +Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry. +By this time he was 'cross the foord, +Whare in the snow the chapman smoored, {149b} +And past the birks and meikle stane +Whare drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane: +And through the whins, and by the cairn +Whare hunters fand the murdered bairn; +And near the thorn, aboon the well, +Where Mungo's mither hanged hersel'. +Before him Doon pours a' his floods; +The doubling storm roars through the woods; +The lightnings flash frae pole to pole; +Near and more near the thunders roll; +When glimmering through the groaning trees, +Kirk-Alloway seemed in a bleeze; +Through ilka bore the beams were glancing, {150h} +And loud resounded mirth and dancing. + +Inspiring bold John Barleycorn! +What dangers thou canst mak us scorn! +Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil: +Wi' usquebae, we'll face the devil! - +The swats sae reamed in Tammie's noddle, +Fair play, he cared na deils a boddle. {150a} +But Maggie stood right sair astonished, +Till, by the heel and hand admonished, +She ventured forward on the light; +And, wow! Tam saw an unco sight! +Warlocks and witches in a dance; +Nae cotillon brent-new frae France, +But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels, +Put life and mettle i' their heels: +At winnock-bunker, i' the east, {150b} +There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast, +A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, {150c} +To gie them music was his charge; +He screwed the pipes, and gart them skirl, {150d} +Till roof and rafters a' did dirl. {150e} +Coffins stood round, like open presses, +That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; +And by some devilish cantrip slight {150f} +Each in its cauld hand held a light, - +By which heroic Tam was able +To note upon the haly table, +A murderer's banes in gibbet airns; +Twa span-lang, wee, unchristened bairns; +A thief, new-cutted frae a rape, +Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape; {150g} +Five tomahawks, wi' bluid red-rusted: +Five scimitars, wi' murder crusted; +A garter, which a babe had strangled; +A knife, a father's throat had mangled, +Whom his ain son o' life bereft, +The grey hairs yet stack to the heft: +Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu', +Which even to name wad be unlawfu'. + +As Tammie glowered, amazed and curious, +The mirth and fun grew fast and furious: +The piper loud and louder blew, +The dancers quick and quicker flew; +They reeled, they set, they crossed, they cleekit, +Till ilka carlin swat and reekit, +And coost her duddies to the wark, {151a} +And linket at it in her sark. {151h} {151b} + +Now Tam! O Tam! had they been queans, +A' plump and strappin' in their teens, +Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen, {151c} +Been snaw-white seventeen hunder linnen! +Thir breeks o' mine, my only pair, +That ance were plush, o' guid blue hair, +I wad hae gien them aff my hurdies, +For ae blink o' the bonny burdies! + +But withered beldams, auld and droll, +Rigwoodie hags, wad spean a foal, {151d} {151j} +Lowpin' and flingin' on a cummock, {151e} +I wonder didna turn thy stomach. + +But Tam kenned what was what fu' brawlie, +"There was ae winsome wench and walie," {151i} +That night enlisted in the core, +(Lang after kenned on Carrick shore; +For mony a beast to dead she shot, +And perished mony a bonny boat, +And shook baith meikle corn and bere, +And kept the country-side in fear.) +Her cutty sark, o' Paisley harn, {151f} +That, while a lassie, she had worn, +In longitude though sorely scanty, +It was her best, and she was vauntie. + +Ah! little kenn'd thy reverend grannie, +That sark she coft for her wee Nannie, {151g} +Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches), +Wad ever graced a dance o' witches! +But here my Muse her wing maun cour, +Sic flights are far beyond her power; +To sing how Nannie lap and flang, +(A souple jade she was, and strang,) +And how Tam stood like ane bewitched, +And thought his very een enriched; +Even Satan glowered, and fidged fu' fain, +And hotch'd and blew wi' might and main: {152a} +Till first ae caper, syne anither, +Tam tint his reason a'thegither, {152b} +And roars out, "Weel done, Cutty-sark!" +And in an instant a' was dark: +And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, +When out the hellish legion sallied. +As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, {152c} +When plundering herds assail their byke; {152d} +As open pussie's mortal foes, +When, pop! she starts before their nose; +As eager runs the market-crowd, +When "Catch the thief!" resounds aloud; +So Maggie runs, the witches follow, +Wi' mony an eldritch screech and hollow. {152e} + +Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou'lt get thy fairin'! +In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin'! +In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin'! +Kate soon will be a woefu' woman! +Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, +And win the keystane of the brig; +There at them thou thy tail may toss, +A running stream they darena cross; +But ere the keystane she could make, +The fient a tail she had to shake! +For Nannie, far before the rest, +Hard upon noble Maggie prest, +And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle; {152f} +But little wist she Maggie's mettle - +Ae spring brought off her master hale, +But left behind her ain grey tail: +The carlin claught her by the rump, +And left poor Maggie scarce a stump. + +Now, wha this tale o' truth shall read, +Ilk man and mother's son, take heed: +Whane'er to drink you are inclined, +Or cutty-sarks run in your mind, +Think! ye may buy the joys owre dear - +Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare. + + + +THE DEMON SHIP + + + +BY THOMAS HOOD. + +'Twas off the Wash the sun went down--the sea looked black and grim, +For stormy clouds with murky fleece were mustering at the brim; +Titanic shades! enormous gloom!--as if the solid night +Of Erebus rose suddenly to seize upon the light! +It was a time for mariners to bear a wary eye, +With such a dark conspiracy between the sea and sky! + +Down went my helm--close reefed--the tack held freely in my hand - +With ballast snug--I put about, and scudded for the land; +Loud hissed the sea beneath her lee--my little boat flew fast, +But faster still the rushing storm came borne upon the blast. + +Lord! what a roaring hurricane beset the straining sail! +What furious sleet, with level drift, and fierce assaults of hail! +What darksome caverns yawned before! what jagged steeps behind! +Like battle-steeds, with foamy manes, wild tossing in the wind, +Each after each sank down astern, exhausted in the chase, +But where it sank another rose and galloped in its place; +As black as night--they turned to white, and cast against the cloud +A snowy sheet, as if each surge upturned a sailor's shroud:- +Still flew my boat; alas! alas! her course was nearly run! +Behold yon fatal billow rise--ten billows heaped in one! +With fearful speed the dreary mass came rolling, rolling fast, +As if the scooping sea contained one only wave at last; +Still on it came, with horrid roar, a swift pursuing grave; +It seemed as though some cloud had turned its hugeness to a wave! +Its briny sleet began to beat beforehand in my face - +I felt the rearward keel begin to climb its swelling base! +I saw its alpine hoary head impending over mine! +Another pulse--and down it rushed--an avalanche of brine! +Brief pause had I on God to cry, or think of wife and home; +The waters closed--and when I shrieked, I shrieked below the foam! +Beyond that rush I have no hint of any after-deed - +For I was tossing on the waste, as senseless as a weed. + + . . . . . + +"Where am I? in the breathing world, or in the world of death?" +With sharp and sudden pang I drew another birth of breath; +My eyes drank in a doubtful light, my ears a doubtful sound - +And was that ship a REAL ship whose tackle seemed around? +A moon, as if the earthly moon, was shining up aloft; +But were those beams the very beams that I have seen so oft? +A face that mocked the human face, before me watched alone; +But were those eyes the eyes of man that looked against my own? + +Oh! never may the moon again disclose me such a sight +As met my gaze, when first I looked, on that accursed night! +I've seen a thousand horrid shapes begot of fierce extremes +Of fever; and most frightful things have haunted in my dreams - +Hyenas--cats--blood-loving bats--and apes with hateful stare - +Pernicious snakes, and shaggy bulls--the lion, and she-bear - +Strong enemies, with Judas looks, of treachery and spite - +Detested features, hardly dimmed and banished by the light! +Pale-sheeted ghosts, with gory locks, upstarting from their tombs - +All phantasies and images that flit in midnight glooms - +Hags, goblins, demons, lemures, have made me all aghast, - +But nothing like that GRIMLY ONE who stood beside the mast! + +His cheek was black--his brow was black--his eyes and hair as dark; +His hand was black, and where it touched, it left a sable mark; +His throat was black, his vest the same, and when I looked beneath, +His breast was black--all, all was black, except his grinning teeth, +His sooty crew were like in hue, as black as Afric slaves! +Oh, horror! e'en the ship was black that ploughed the inky waves! +"Alas!" I cried, "for love of truth and blessed mercy's sake, +Where am I? in what dreadful ship? upon what dreadful lake? +What shape is that, so very grim, and black as any coal? +It is Mahound, the Evil One, and he has gained my soul! +Oh, mother dear! my tender nurse: dear meadows that beguiled +My happy days, when I was yet a little sinless child - +My mother dear--my native fields I never more shall see: +I'm sailing in the Devil's Ship, upon the Devil's Sea!" + +Loud laughed that SABLE MARINER, and loudly in return +His sooty crew sent forth a laugh that rang from stem to stern - +A dozen pair of grimly cheeks were crumpled on the nonce - +As many sets of grinning teeth came shining out at once: +A dozen gloomy shapes at once enjoyed the merry fit, +With shriek and yell, and oaths as well, like Demons of the Pit. +They crowed their fill, and then the Chief made answer for the +whole:- +"Our skins," said he, "are black, ye see, because we carry coal; +You'll find your mother sure enough, and see your native fields - +For this here ship has picked you up--the Mary Ann of Shields!" + + + +A TALE OF A TRUMPET + + + +BY THOMAS HOOD. + +"Old woman, old woman, will you go a-shearing? +Speak a little louder, for I'm very hard of hearing." + --Old Ballad. + +Of all old women hard of hearing, +The deafest sure was Dame Eleanor Spearing! + On her head, it is true, + Two flaps there grew, + That served for a pair of gold rings to go through, +But for any purpose of ears in a parley, +They heard no more than ears of barley. + +No hint was needed from D. E. F., +You saw in her face that the woman was deaf: + From her twisted mouth to her eyes so peery, + Each queer feature asked a query; +A look that said in a silent way, +"Who? and What? and How? and Eh? +I'd give my ears to know what you say!" + +And well she might! for each auricular +Was deaf as a post--and that post in particular +That stands at the corner of Dyott Street now, +And never hears a word of a row! +Ears that might serve her now and then +As extempore racks for an idle pen; +Or to hang with hoops from jewellers' shops; +With coral; ruby, or garnet drops; +Or, provided the owner so inclined, +Ears to stick a blister behind; +But as for hearing wisdom, or wit, +Falsehood, or folly, or tell-tale-tit, +Or politics, whether of Fox or Pitt, +Sermon, lecture, or musical bit, +Harp, piano, fiddle, or kit, +They might as well, for any such wish, +Have been buttered, done brown, and laid in a dish! + +She was deaf as a post,--as said before - +And as deaf as twenty similes more, +Including the adder, that deafest of snakes, +Which never hears the coil it makes. + +She was deaf as a house--which modern tricks +Of language would call as deaf as bricks - + For her all human kind were dumb, + Her drum, indeed, was so muffled a drum, + That none could get a sound to come, +Unless the Devil, who had Two Sticks! +She was as deaf as a stone--say one of the stones +Demosthenes sucked to improve his tones; +And surely deafness no further could reach +Than to be in his mouth without hearing his speech! + +She was deaf as a nut--for nuts, no doubt, +Are deaf to the grub that's hollowing out - +As deaf, alas! as the dead and forgotten - +(Gray has noticed the waste of breath, +In addressing the "dull, cold ear of death"), +Or the felon's ear that is stuffed with cotton - +Or Charles the First in statue quo; +Or the still-born figures of Madame Tussaud, +With their eyes of glass, and their hair of flax, +That only stare whatever you "ax," +For their ears, you know, are nothing but wax. + +She was deaf as the ducks that swam in the pond, +And wouldn't listen to Mrs. Bond, - +As deaf as any Frenchman appears, +When he puts his shoulders into his ears: +And--whatever the citizen tells his son - +As deaf as Gog and Magog at one! +Or, still to be a simile-seeker, +As deaf as dogs'-ears to Enfield's Speaker! + +She was deaf as any tradesman's dummy, +Or as Pharaoh's mother's mother's mummy; +Whose organs, for fear of modern sceptics, +Were plugged with gums and antiseptics. + +She was deaf as a nail--that you cannot hammer +A meaning into for all your clamour - +There never WAS such a deaf old Gammer! + So formed to worry + Both Lindley and Murray, +By having no ear for Music or Grammar! + +Deaf to sounds, as a ship out of soundings, +Deaf to verbs, and all their compoundings, +Adjective, noun, and adverb, and particle, +Deaf to even the definite article - +No verbal message was worth a pin, +Though you hired an earwig to carry it in! + +In short, she was twice as deaf as Deaf Burke, +Or all the Deafness in Yearsley's work, +Who in spite of his skill in hardness of hearing, + Boring, blasting, and pioneering, + To give the dunny organ a clearing, +Could never have cured Dame Eleanor Spearing. + +Of course the loss was a great privation, +For one of her sex--whatever her station - +And none the less that the dame had a turn +For making all families one concern, +And learning whatever there was to learn +In the prattling, tattling village of Tringham - +As, who wore silk? and who wore gingham? +And what the Atkins's shop might bring 'em? +How the Smiths contrived to live? and whether +The fourteen Murphys all pigged together? +The wages per week of the Weavers and Skinners, +And what they boiled for their Sunday dinners? +What plates the Bugsbys had on the shelf, +Crockery, china, wooden, or delf? +And if the parlour of Mrs. O'Grady +Had a wicked French print, or Death and the Lady? +Did Snip and his wife continue to jangle? +Had Mrs. Wilkinson sold her mangle? +What liquor was drunk by Jones and Brown? +And the weekly score they ran up at the Crown? +If the cobbler could read, and believed in the Pope? +And how the Grubbs were off for soap? +If the Snobbs had furnished their room upstairs, +And how they managed for tables and chairs, +Beds, and other household affairs, +Iron, wooden, and Staffordshire wares? + And if they could muster a whole pair of bellows? +In fact she had much of the spirit that lies +Perdu in a notable set of Paul Prys, + By courtesy called Statistical Fellows - +A prying, spying, inquisitive clan, +Who have gone upon much of the self-same plan, + Jotting the labouring class's riches; +And after poking in pot and pan, + And routing garments in want of stitches, +Have ascertained that a working man + Wears a pair and a quarter of average breeches! + +But this, alas! from her loss of hearing, +Was all a sealed book to Dame Eleanor Spearing; + And often her tears would rise to their founts - +Supposing a little scandal at play +'Twixt Mrs. O'Fie and Mrs. Au Fait - + That she couldn't audit the gossips' accounts. +'Tis true, to her cottage still they came, +And ate her muffins just the same, +And drank the tea of the widowed dame, +And never swallowed a thimble the less +Of something the reader is left to guess, +For all the deafness of Mrs. S. + Who SAW them talk, and chuckle, and cough, +But to SEE and not share in the social flow, +She might as well have lived, you know, +In one of the houses in Owen's Row, + Near the New River Head, with its water cut off! +And yet the almond oil she had tried, +And fifty infallible things beside, +Hot, and cold, and thick, and thin, +Dabbed, and dribbled, and squirted in: +But all remedies failed; and though some it was clear, + Like the brandy and salt + We now exalt, +Had made a noise in the public ear, +She was just as deaf as ever, poor dear! + +At last--one very fine day in June - + Suppose her sitting, + Busily knitting, +And humming she didn't quite know what tune; + For nothing she heard but a sort of whizz, +Which, unless the sound of circulation, +Or of thoughts in the process of fabrication, +By a spinning-jennyish operation, + It's hard to say what buzzing it is. +However, except that ghost of a sound, +She sat in a silence most profound - +The cat was purring about the mat, +But her mistress heard no more of that +Than if it had been a boatswain's cat; +And as for the clock the moments nicking, +The dame only gave it credit for ticking. +The bark of her dog she did not catch; +Nor yet the click of the lifted latch; +Nor yet the creak of the opening door; +Nor yet the fall of a foot on the floor - +But she saw the shadow that crept on her gown +And turned its skirt of a darker brown. + +And lo! a man! a Pedlar! ay, marry, +With the little back-shop that such tradesmen carry, +Stocked with brooches, ribbons, and rings, +Spectacles, razors, and other odd things +For lad and lass, as Autolycus sings; +A chapman for goodness and cheapness of ware, +Held a fair dealer enough at a fair, +But deemed a piratical sort of invader +By him we dub the "regular trader," +Who--luring the passengers in as they pass +By lamps, gay panels, and mouldings of brass, +And windows with only one huge pane of glass, +And his name in gilt characters, German or Roman - +If he isn't a Pedlar, at least he's a Showman! + +However, in the stranger came, +And, the moment he met the eyes of the Dame, +Threw her as knowing a nod as though +He had known her fifty long years ago: +And presto! before she could utter "Jack" - +Much less "Robinson"--opened his pack - + And then from amongst his portable gear, +With even more than a Pedlar's tact, - +(Slick himself might have envied the act) - +Before she had time to be deaf, in fact - + Popped a Trumpet into her ear. + "There, Ma'am! try it! + You needn't buy it - + The last New Patent, and nothing comes nigh it +For affording the deaf, at a little expense, +The sense of hearing, and hearing of sense! +A Real Blessing--and no mistake, +Invented for poor Humanity's sake: +For what can be a greater privation +Than playing Dumby to all creation, +And only looking at conversation - +Great philosophers talking like Platos, +And Members of Parliament moral as Catos, +And your ears as dull as waxy potatoes! +Not to name the mischievous quizzers, +Sharp as knives, but double as scissors, +Who get you to answer quite by guess +Yes for No, and No for Yes." +("That's very true," says Dame Eleanor S.) + +"Try it again! No harm in trying - +I'm sure you'll find it worth your buying. +A little practice--that is all - +And you'll hear a whisper, however small, +Through an Act of Parliament party-wall, - +Every syllable clear as day, +And even what people are going to say - + I wouldn't tell a lie, I wouldn't, + But my Trumpets have heard what Solomon's couldn't; +And as for Scott he promises fine, +But can he warrant his horns like mine, +Never to hear what a lady shouldn't - +Only a guinea--and can't take less." +("That's very dear," said Dame Eleanor S.) + + "Dear!--Oh dear, to call it dear! +Why, it isn't a horn you buy, but an ear; +Only think, and you'll find on reflection +You're bargaining, ma'am, for the Voice of Affection; +For the language of Wisdom, and Virtue, and Truth, +And the sweet little innocent prattle of Youth: +Not to mention the striking of clocks - +Cackle of hens--crowing of cocks - +Lowing of cow, and bull, and ox - +Bleating of pretty pastoral flocks - +Murmur of waterfall over the rocks - +Every sound that Echo mocks - +Vocals, fiddles, and musical-box - +And zounds! to call such a concert dear! +But I mustn't 'swear with my horn in your ear.' +Why, in buying that Trumpet you buy all those +That Harper, or any Trumpeter, blows +At the Queen's Levees or the Lord Mayor's Shows, +At least as far as the music goes, +Including the wonderful lively sound, +Of the Guards' key-bugles all the year round; +Come--suppose we call it a pound! +Come," said the talkative Man of the Pack, +"Before I put my box on my back, +For this elegant, useful Conductor of Sound, +Come, suppose we call it a pound! + +"Only a pound: it's only the price +Of hearing a concert once or twice, + It's only the fee + You might give Mr. C. +And after all not hear his advice, +But common prudence would bid you stump it; + For, not to enlarge, + It's the regular charge +At a Fancy Fair for a penny trumpet. +Lord! what's a pound to the blessing of hearing!" +("A pound's a pound," said Dame Eleanor Spearing.) + +"Try it again! no harm in trying! +A pound's a pound, there's no denying; +But think what thousands and thousands of pounds +We pay for nothing but hearing sounds: +Sounds of Equity, Justice, and Law, +Parliamentary jabber and jaw, +Pious cant, and moral saw, +Hocus-pocus, and Nong-tong-paw, +And empty sounds not worth a straw; +Why, it costs a guinea, as I'm a sinner, +To hear the sounds at a public dinner! +One pound one thrown into the puddle, +To listen to Fiddle, Faddle, and Fuddle! +Not to forget the sounds we buy +From those who sell their sounds so high, +That, unless the managers pitch it strong, +To get a signora to warble a song, +You must fork out the blunt with a haymaker's prong! + +"It's not the thing for me--I know it, +To crack my own trumpet up and blow it; +But it is the best, and time will show it. + There was Mrs. F. + So very deaf, +That she might have worn a percussion cap, +And been knocked on the head without hearing it snap, +Well, I sold her a horn, and the very next day +She heard from her husband at Botany Bay! +Come--eighteen shillings--that's very low, +You'll save the money as shillings go, +And I never knew so bad a lot, +By hearing whether they ring or not! + +"Eighteen shillings! it's worth the price, +Supposing you're delicate-minded and nice, +To have the medical man of your choice, +Instead of the one with the strongest voice - +Who comes and asks you, how's your liver, +And where you ache, and whether you shiver, +And as to your nerves, so apt to quiver, +As if he was hailing a boat on the river! +And then, with a shout, like Pat in a riot, +Tells you to keep yourself perfectly quiet! + +"Or a tradesman comes--as tradesmen will - +Short and crusty about his bill; + Of patience, indeed, a perfect scorner, +And because you're deaf and unable to pay, +Shouts whatever he has to say, +In a vulgar voice, that goes over the way, + Down the street and round the corner! +Come--speak your mind--it's 'No' or 'Yes.'" +("I've half a mind," said Dame Eleanor S.) + +"Try it again--no harm in trying, +Of course you hear me, as easy as lying; +No pain at all, like a surgical trick, +To make you squall, and struggle, and kick, + Like Juno, or Rose, + Whose ear undergoes +Such horrid tugs at membrane and gristle, +For being as deaf as yourself to a whistle! + +"You may go to surgical chaps if you choose, +Who will blow up your tubes like copper flues, +Or cut your tonsils right away, +As you'd shell out your almonds for Christmas Day; +And after all a matter of doubt, +Whether you ever would hear the shout +Of the little blackguards that bawl about, +'There you go with your tonsils out!' + Why I knew a deaf Welshman, who came from Glamorgan +On purpose to try a surgical spell, +And paid a guinea, and might as well + Have called a monkey into his organ! +For the Aurist only took a mug, +And poured in his ear some acoustical drug, +That, instead of curing, deafened him rather, +As Hamlet's uncle served Hamlet's father! +That's the way with your surgical gentry! + And happy your luck + If you don't get stuck +Through your liver and lights at a royal entry, +Because you never answered the sentry! + +"Try it again, dear madam, try it! +Many would sell their beds to buy it. +I warrant you often wake up in the night, +Ready to shake to a jelly with fright, +And up you must get to strike a light, +And down you go, in you know what, +Whether the weather is chilly or hot, - +That's the way a cold is got, - +To see if you heard a noise or not. + +"Why, bless you, a woman with organs like yours +Is hardly safe to step out of doors! +Just fancy a horse that comes full pelt, +But as quiet as if he was shod with felt, +Till he rushes against you with all his force, +And then I needn't describe of course, +While he kicks you about without remorse, +How awkward it is to be groomed by a horse! +Or a bullock comes, as mad as King Lear, +And you never dream that the brute is near, +Till he pokes his horn right into your ear, +Whether you like the thing or lump it, - +And all for want of buying a trumpet! + +"I'm not a female to fret and vex, +But if I belonged to the sensitive sex, +Exposed to all sorts of indelicate sounds, +I wouldn't be deaf for a thousand pounds. + Lord! only think of chucking a copper +To Jack or Bob with a timber limb, +Who looks as if he was singing a hymn, + Instead of a song that's very improper! +Or just suppose in a public place +You see a great fellow a-pulling a face, +With his staring eyes and his mouth like an O, - +And how is a poor deaf lady to know, - +The lower orders are up to such games - +If he's calling 'Green Peas,' or calling her names?" +("They're tenpence a peck!" said the deafest of dames.) + +"'Tis strange what very strong advising, +By word of mouth, or advertising, +By chalking on wall, or placarding on vans, +With fifty other different plans, +The very high pressure, in fact, of pressing, +It needs to persuade one to purchase a blessing! +Whether the soothing American Syrup, +A Safety Hat, or a Safety Stirrup, - +Infallible Pills for the human frame, +Or Rowland's O-don't-O (an ominous name)! +A Doudney's suit which the shape so hits +That it beats all others into FITS; +A Mechi's razor for beards unshorn, +Or a Ghost-of-a-Whisper-Catching Horn! + +"Try it again, ma'am, only try!" +Was still the voluble Pedlar's cry; +"It's a great privation, there's no dispute, +To live like the dumb unsociable brute, +And to hear no more of the pro and con, +And how Society's going on, +Than Mumbo Jumbo or Prester John, +And all for want of this sine qua non; + Whereas, with a horn that never offends, +You may join the genteelest party that is, +And enjoy all the scandal, and gossip, and quiz, + And be certain to hear of your absent friends; - +Not that elegant ladies, in fact, +In genteel society ever detract, +Or lend a brush when a friend is blacked, - +At least as a mere malicious act, - +But only talk scandal for fear some fool +Should think they were bred at CHARITY school. + Or, maybe, you like a little flirtation, +Which even the most Don Juanish rake +Would surely object to undertake + At the same high pitch as an altercation. +It's not for me, of course, to judge +How much a deaf lady ought to begrudge; +But half-a-guinea seems no great matter - +Letting alone more rational patter - +Only to hear a parrot chatter: +Not to mention that feathered wit, +The starling, who speaks when his tongue is slit; +The pies and jays that utter words, +And other Dicky Gossips of birds, +That talk with as much good sense and decorum +As many Beaks who belong to the Quorum. + +"Try it--buy it--say ten and six, +The lowest price a miser could fix: +I don't pretend with horns of mine, +Like some in the advertising line, +To 'MAGNIFY SOUNDS' on such marvellous scales, +That the sounds of a cod seem as big as a whale's; +But popular rumours, right or wrong, - +Charity sermons, short or long, - +Lecture, speech, concerto, or song, +All noises and voices, feeble or strong, +From the hum of a gnat to the clash of a gong, +This tube will deliver distinct and clear; + Or, supposing by chance + You wish to dance, +Why it's putting a Horn-pipe into your ear! + Try it--buy it! + Buy it--try it! +The last New Patent, and nothing comes nigh it, + For guiding sounds to their proper tunnel: +Only try till the end of June, +And if you and the trumpet are out of tune + I'll turn it gratis into a funnel!" +In short, the pedlar so beset her, - +Lord Bacon couldn't have gammoned her better, - +With flatteries plump and indirect, +And plied his tongue with such effect, - +A tongue that could almost have buttered a crumpet: +The deaf old woman bought the Trumpet. + + . . . . . + . . . . . + +The pedlar was gone. With the horn's assistance, +She heard his steps die away in the distance; +And then she heard the tick of the clock, +The purring of puss, and the snoring of Shock; +And she purposely dropped a pin that was little, +And heard it fall as plain as a skittle! + +'Twas a wonderful horn, to be but just! +Nor meant to gather dust, must, and rust; +So in half a jiffy, or less than that, +In her scarlet cloak and her steeple-hat, +Like old Dame Trot, but without her cat, +The gossip was hunting all Tringham thorough, +As if she meant to canvass the borough, + Trumpet in hand, or up to the cavity; - +And, sure, had the horn been one of those +The wild rhinoceros wears on his nose, + It couldn't have ripped up more depravity! + +Depravity! mercy shield her ears! +'Twas plain enough that her village peers + In the ways of vice were no raw beginners; +For whenever she raised the tube to her drum +Such sounds were transmitted as only come + From the very Brass Band of human sinners! +Ribald jest and blasphemous curse +(Bunyan never vented worse), +With all those weeds, not flowers, of speech +Which the Seven Dialecticians teach; +Filthy Conjunctions, and Dissolute Nouns, +And Particles picked from the kennels of towns, +With Irregular Verbs for irregular jobs, +Chiefly active in rows and mobs, +Picking Possessive Pronouns' fobs, +And Interjections as bad as a blight, +Or an Eastern blast, to the blood and the sight: +Fanciful phrases for crime and sin, +And smacking of vulgar lips where Gin, +Garlic, Tobacco, and offals go in - +A jargon so truly adapted, in fact, +To each thievish, obscene, and ferocious act, +So fit for the brute with the human shape, +Savage Baboon, or libidinous Ape, +From their ugly mouths it will certainly come +Should they ever get weary of shamming dumb! + +Alas! for the Voice of Virtue and Truth, +And the sweet little innocent prattle of Youth! +The smallest urchin whose tongue could tang, +Shocked the Dame with a volley of slang, +Fit for Fagin's juvenile gang; + While the charity chap, + With his muffin cap, + His crimson coat, and his badge so garish, +Playing at dumps, or pitch in the hole, +Cursed his eyes, limbs, body and soul, + As if they did not belong to the Parish! + +'Twas awful to hear, as she went along, +The wicked words of the popular song; + Or supposing she listened--as gossips will - +At a door ajar, or a window agape, +To catch the sounds they allowed to escape. + Those sounds belonged to Depravity still! +The dark allusion, or bolder brag +Of the dexterous "dodge," and the lots of "swag," +The plundered house--or the stolen nag - +The blazing rick, or the darker crime, +That quenched the spark before its time - +The wanton speech of the wife immoral, +The noise of drunken or deadly quarrel, +With savage menace, which threatened the life, +Till the heart seemed merely a strop for the knife; +The human liver, no better than that +Which is sliced and thrown to an old woman's cat; + And the head, so useful for shaking and nodding, +To be punched into holes, like a "shocking bad hat" + That is only fit to be punched into wadding! + +In short, wherever she turned the horn, +To the highly bred, or the lowly born, +The working man, who looked over the hedge, +Or the mother nursing her infant pledge. + The sober Quaker, averse to quarrels, +Or the Governess pacing the village through, +With her twelve Young Ladies, two and two, +Looking, as such young ladies do, + Trussed by Decorum and stuffed with morals - +Whether she listened to Hob or Bob, + Nob or Snob, + The Squire on his cob, +Or Trudge and his ass at a tinkering job, +To the "Saint" who expounded at "Little Zion" - +Or the "Sinner" who kept the "Golden Lion" - +The man teetotally weaned from liquor - +The Beadle, the Clerk, or the Reverend Vicar - +Nay, the very Pie in its cage of wicker - +She gathered such meanings, double or single, + That like the bell, + With muffins to sell, +Her ear was kept in a constant tingle! + +But this was nought to the tales of shame, +The constant runnings of evil fame, +Foul, and dirty, and black as ink, +That her ancient cronies, with nod and wink, +Poured in her horn like slops in a sink: + While sitting in conclave, as gossips do, +With their Hyson or Howqua, black or green, +And not a little of feline spleen, + Lapped up in "Catty packages," too, + To give a zest to the sipping and supping; +For still by some invisible tether, +Scandal and Tea are linked together, + As surely as Scarification and Cupping; +Yet never since Scandal drank Bohea - +Or sloe, or whatever it happened to be, + For some grocerly thieves + Turn over new leaves, +Without much mending their lives or their tea - +No, never since cup was filled or stirred +Were such wild and horrible anecdotes heard, +As blackened their neighbours of either gender, +Especially that, which is called the Tender, +But instead of the softness we fancy therewith, +Was hardened in vice as the vice of a smith. + +Women! the wretches! had soiled and marred + Whatever to womanly nature belongs; +For the marriage tie they had no regard, +Nay, sped their mates to the sexton's yard, + (Like Madame Laffarge, who with poisonous pinches + Kept cutting off her L by inches) - +And as for drinking, they drank so hard +That they drank their flat-irons, pokers, and tongs! + +The men--they fought and gambled at fairs; +And poached--and didn't respect grey hairs - +Stole linen, money, plate, poultry, and corses; +And broke in houses as well as horses; +Unfolded folds to kill their own mutton, - +And would their own mothers and wives for a button: +But not to repeat the deeds they did, +Backsliding in spite of all moral skid, +If all were true that fell from the tongue, +There was not a villager, old or young, +But deserved to be whipped, imprisoned, or hung, +Or sent on those travels which nobody hurries, +To publish at Colburn's, or Longmans', or Murray's. + +Meanwhile the Trumpet, con amore, +Transmitted each vile diabolical story; +And gave the least whisper of slips and falls, +As that Gallery does in the Dome of St. Paul's, +Which, as all the world knows, by practice or print, +Is famous for making the most of a hint. + Not a murmur of shame, + Or buzz of blame, +Not a flying report that flew at a name, +Not a plausible gloss, or significant note, +Not a word in the scandalous circles afloat, +Of a beam in the eye, or diminutive mote, +But vortex-like that tube of tin +Sucked the censorious particle in; + And, truth to tell, for as willing an organ +As ever listened to serpent's hiss, +Nor took the viperous sound amiss, + On the snaky head of an ancient Gorgon! + +The Dame, it is true, would mutter "shocking!" +And give her head a sorrowful rocking, +And make a clucking with palate and tongue, +Like the call of Partlet to gather her young, +A sound, when human, that always proclaims +At least a thousand pities and shames; + But still the darker the tale of sin, +Like certain folks, when calamities burst, +Who find a comfort in "hearing the worst," + The farther she poked the Trumpet in. +Nay, worse, whatever she heard she spread + East and West, and North and South, +Like the ball which, according to Captain Z., + Went in at his ear, and came out at his mouth. +What wonder between the Horn and the Dame, +Such mischief was made wherever they came, +That the parish of Tringham was all in a flame! + + For although it required such loud discharges, +Such peals of thunder as rumbled at Lear, +To turn the smallest of table-beer, +A little whisper breathed into the ear + Will sour a temper "as sour as varges." +In fact such very ill blood there grew, + From this private circulation of stories, +That the nearest neighbours the village through, +Looked at each other as yellow and blue, +As any electioneering crew + Wearing the colours of Whigs and Tories. +Ah! well the Poet said, in sooth, +That "whispering tongues can poison Truth," - + Yes, like a dose of oxalic acid, +Wrench and convulse poor Peace, the placid, +And rack dear Love with internal fuel, +Like arsenic pastry, or what is as cruel, +Sugar of lead, that sweetens gruel, - +At least such torments began to wring 'em + From the very morn + When that mischievous Horn +Caught the whisper of tongues in Tringham. + +The Social Clubs dissolved in huffs, +And the Sons of Harmony came to cuffs, +While feuds arose and family quarrels, +That discomposed the mechanics of morals, +For screws were loose between brother and brother, +While sisters fastened their nails on each other; +Such wrangles, and jangles, and miff, and tiff, +And spar, and jar--and breezes as stiff +As ever upset a friendship--or skiff! +The plighted lovers who used to walk, +Refused to meet, and declined to talk: +And wished for two moons to reflect the sun, +That they mightn't look together on one: +While wedded affection ran so low, +That the oldest John Anderson snubbed his Jo - +And instead of the toddle adown the hill, + Hand in hand, + As the song has planned, +Scratched her, penniless, out of his will! +In short, to describe what came to pass + In a true, though somewhat theatrical way, +Instead of "Love in a Village"--alas! + The piece they performed was "The Devil to Pay!" + +However, as secrets are brought to light, +And mischief comes home like chickens at night; +And rivers are tracked throughout their course, +And forgeries traced to their proper source; - + And the sow that ought + By the ear is caught, - +And the sin to the sinful door is brought; +And the cat at last escapes from the bag - +And the saddle is placed on the proper nag - +And the fog blows off, and the key is found - +And the faulty scent is picked out by the hound - +And the fact turns up like a worm from the ground - +And the matter gets wind to waft it about; +And a hint goes abroad, and the murder is out - +And a riddle is guessed--and the puzzle is known - +So the Truth was sniffed, and the Trumpet was blown! + + . . . . . + + 'Tis a day in November--a day of fog - +But the Tringham people are all agog! + Fathers, Mothers, and Mothers' Sons, - + With sticks, and staves, and swords, and guns, - +As if in pursuit of a rabid dog; +But their voices--raised to the highest pitch - +Declare that the game is "a Witch!--a Witch!" + +Over the Green and along by the George - +Past the Stocks and the Church, and the Forge, +And round the Pound, and skirting the Pond, +Till they come to the whitewashed cottage beyond, +And there at the door they muster and cluster, +And thump, and kick, and bellow, and bluster - +Enough to put Old Nick in a fluster! +A noise, indeed, so loud and long, +And mixed with expressions so very strong, +That supposing, according to popular fame, +"Wise Woman" and Witch to be the same, +No hag with a broom would unwisely stop, +But up and away through the chimney-top; +Whereas, the moment they burst the door, +Planted fast on her sanded floor, +With her trumpet up to her organ of hearing, +Lo and behold!--Dame Eleanor Spearing! + +Oh! then rises the fearful shout - +Bawled and screamed, and bandied about - +"Seize her!--Drag the old Jezebel out!" +While the Beadle--the foremost of all the band, +Snatches the Horn from her trembling hand - +And after a pause of doubt and fear, +Puts it up to his sharpest ear. +"Now silence--silence--one and all!" +For the Clerk is quoting from Holy Paul! + But before he rehearses + A couple of verses, +The Beadle lets the Trumpet fall! +For instead of the words so pious and humble, +He hears a supernatural grumble. + +Enough, enough! and more than enough; - +Twenty impatient hands and rough, +By arm and leg, and neck and scruff, +Apron, 'kerchief, gown of stuff - +Cap and pinner, sleeve and cuff - +Are clutching the Witch wherever they can, +With the spite of woman and fury of man; +And then--but first they kill her cat, +And murder her dog on the very mat - +And crush the infernal Trumpet flat; - +And then they hurry her through the door +She never, never will enter more! + +Away! away! down the dusty lane +They pull her and haul her, with might and main; +And happy the hawbuck, Tom or Harry, +Dandy or Sandy, Jerry or Larry, +Who happens to get "a leg to carry!" +And happy the foot that can give her a kick, +And happy the hand that can find a brick - +And happy the fingers that hold a stick - +Knife to cut, or pin to prick - +And happy the boy who can lend her a lick; - +Nay, happy the urchin--Charity-bred, - +Who can shy very nigh to her wicked old head! + +Alas! to think how people's creeds +Are contradicted by people's deeds! + But though the wishes that Witches utter +Can play the most diabolical rigs - +Send styes in the eye--and measle the pigs - +Grease horses' heels--and spoil the butter; +Smut and mildew the corn on the stalk - +And turn new milk to water and chalk, - +Blight apples--and give the chickens the pip - +And cramp the stomach--and cripple the hip - +And waste the body--and addle the eggs - +And give a baby bandy legs; +Though in common belief a Witch's curse +Involves all these horrible things and worse - +As ignorant bumpkins all profess, +No bumpkin makes a poke the less +At the back or ribs of old Eleanor S.! + As if she were only a sack of barley! +Or gives her credit for greater might +Than the Powers of Darkness confer at night + On that other old woman, the parish Charley! + +Ay, now's the time for a Witch to call +On her imps and sucklings one and all - +Newes, Pyewacket, or Peck in the Crown, +(As Matthew Hopkins has handed them down) +Dick, and Willet, and Sugar-and-Sack, +Greedy Grizel, Jarmara the Black, +Vinegar Tom, and the rest of the pack - +Ay, now's the nick for her friend Old Harry +To come "with his tail," like the bold Glengarry, +And drive her foes from their savage job +As a mad black bullock would scatter a mob:- + But no such matter is down in the bond; +And spite of her cries that never cease, +But scare the ducks and astonish the geese, +The dame is dragged to the fatal pond! + +And now they come to the water's brim - +And in they bundle her--sink or swim; +Though it's twenty to one that the wretch must drown, +With twenty sticks to hold her down; +Including the help to the self-same end, +Which a travelling Pedlar stops to lend. +A Pedlar!--Yes!--The same!--the same! +Who sold the Horn to the drowning Dame! +And now is foremost amid the stir, +With a token only revealed to her; +A token that makes her shudder and shriek, +And point with her finger, and strive to speak - +But before she can utter the name of the Devil, +Her head is under the water level! + + + +MORAL. + +There are folks about town--to name no names - +Who much resemble the deafest of Dames! + And over their tea, and muffins, and crumpets, +Circulate many a scandalous word, +And whisper tales they could only have heard + Through some such Diabolical Trumpets! + + + +GLOSSARY + + + +{114} And, in old English could be placed like "also" in different +parts of a sentence. Thus, in Nymphidia, + "She hies her then to Lethe spring, + A bottle and thereof doth bring." +{129} Atalantis, "As long as Atalantis shall be read." Atalantis +was a book of Court scandal by Mrs. De la Riviere Manley, in four +volumes, entitled "Secret Memoirs and Manners of several Persons of +Quality of both Sexes from the New Atalantis, an Island in the +Mediterranean." Mrs. Manley died in 1724. + +{94h} Bauzon, badger. French, bausin. +{147a} Billies, fellows, used rather contemptuously. +{147f} Blellum, idle talker. +{150a} Boddle, a Scottish copper coin worth the third part of an +English halfpenny; said to be named after the Mint-master who first +coined it, Bothwell. +{150h} Bore, hole in the wall. +{91e} But, "without," "but merriness," without mirth. +{152d} Byke, hive. + +{150f} Cantrip, charm, spell. Icelandic, gandr, enchantment; gand- +reithr was the witches' ride. +{83} Can'wick Street, Candlewick, where now there is Cannon Street. +{86a} Champarty, Champartage, was a feudal levy of a share of profit +from the ground (campi pars), based originally upon aid given to +enable profit to be earned. Thus it became a law term for right of +a stranger to fixed share in any profits that on such condition he +helped a litigant to win. +{85b} Chiche vache, lean cow. French chiche, Latin ciccus, +wretched, worthless; from Greek kikkos, the core of a pomegranate. +Worth no more than a pomegranate seed. +{94i} Cockers, rustic half-boots. +{151g} Coft, bought. German, kaufte. +{82b} Copen, buy. Dutch, koopen. +{94j} Cordiwin, or cordewane, Cordovan leather. +{89} Coueyn, coveyne convening or conspiring of two or more to +defraud. +{94f} Crank, lively. A boat was "crank" when frail, lightly and +easily tossed on the waves, and liable to upset. Prof. Skeat thinks +that the image of the tossed boat suggested lively movement. +{151c} Creeshie flannen, greasy flannel. +{151e} Cummock, a short staff with a crooked head. +{151f} Cutty, short; so cutty pipe, short pipe. + +{85a} Darrain, decide. To "arraign" was to summon ad rationes to +the pleadings. To darraign was derationare, to bring them to a +decision. +{86b} Defy, digest. As in the Vision of Piers Plowman + "wyn of Ossye + Of Ruyn and of Rochel, the rost to defye." +Latin, defio = deficio, to make one's self to be removed from +something, or something to be removed from one's self. To defy in +the sense of challenging is a word of different origin, diffidere, +to separate from fides, faith, trust, allegiance to another. +{91d} Degest, orderly. To "digest" is to separate and arrange in an +orderly manner. +{150e} Dirl, vibrate, echo. +{147b} Drouthy, droughty, thirsty. +{151a} Duddies, clothes. + +{152e} Eldritch, also elrische, alrische, alry, having relation to +elves or evil spirits, supernatural, hideous, frightful. +{152f} Ettle, endeavour, aim. Icelandic, aetla, to mean anything, +design, have aim, is the Scottish ettle. + +{108d} Fire-drake, dragon breathing out fire. +{91b} Flicht and wary, fluctuate and change. +{92b} Frawfull fary, froward tumult. +{152c} Fyke, fuss. +{30} Fytte, a song, canto. First English, fit, a song. +When Wisdom "thas fitte asungen haefde" had sung this song. King +Alfred's Boethius. + +{150g} Gab, mouth. +{148b} Gars, makes; "gars me greet," makes me weep. +{147h} Gate, road. Icelandic, gata. + +{35} Habergeon, small hauberk, armour for the neck. Old High +German, hals, the neck; bergan, to protect. +{94d} Harlock, This plant-name occurs only here and in Shakespeare's +Lear, Act iv. sc. 4, where Lear is said to be crowned "with +harlocks, hemlocks, nettles, cuckoo-flowers." Probably it is +charlock, Sinapis arvensis, the mustard-plant. +{98} Hays, The hay was a French dance, with many turnings and +windings. +{100} Hient Hill, Ben Hiand, in Ardnamurchan, Argyleshire. +{152a} Hotched, hitched. + +{147g} Ilka, each one, every. +{85c} Infere, together. +{148c} Ingle, fire. Gaelic, aingeal, allied to Latin ignis. + +{95b} Keep, "take thou no keep"--heed, "never mind." +{148f} Kirkton, familiar term for the village in which the country +people had their church. + +{94k} Ladysmock, Cardamine pratensis. +{93b} Leir, lore, doctrine. +{94g} Learned his sheep, taught his sheep. +{94a} Lemster, Leominster. +{95a} Lingell, a shoemaker's thong. Latin lingula. +{151h} Linkit, tripped, moved briskly. +{108c} Lubrican, the Irish leprechaun, a fairy in shape of an old +man, discovered by the moan he makes. He brings wealth, and is +fixed only as long as the finder keeps his eye upon him. + +{108b} Mandrake, the root of mandragora, rudely shaped like the +forked animal man, and said to groan or shriek when pulled out of +the earth. +{93c} Marchpine, sweet biscuit of sugar and almonds. Marchpane +paste was used by comfit-makers for shaping into letters, true-love +knots, birds, beasts, etc. +{130} Megrim, pain on one side of the head, headache. French +migraine, from Gr. eemikrania. +{147i} Melder, milling. The quantity of meal ground at once. +{148a} Mirk, dark. +{108a} Molewarp, mole. First English, moldwearp. + +{148e} Nappy, nap, strong beer. + +{126} Pam, Knave of Clubs, the highest card in the game of Loo, +derived from "palm," as "trump" from "triumph." +{137} Partridge, a maker of prophetic almanacs, who was ridiculed by +Swift as type of his bad craft. +{94b} Peakish hull, hill by the Peak of Derbyshire. +{19} Pose, catarrh. First English, geposu. + "By the pose in thy nose, + And the gout in thy toes." + --Beaumont and Fletcher. +{88b} Prow, profit. Old French, prou, preu--"Oil voir, sire, pour +vostre preu i viens."--Garin le Loharain. + +{91a} Qu, Scottish = W. Quhair, where; quhois, whose; quheill, +wheel; quha, quho, who; quhat, what. + +{82a} Ray, striped cloth. +{151d} Rigwoodie, tough. Rigwiddie is the rope crossing the back of +a horse yoked in a cart; rig, back, and withy, a twig. Applied to +anything strong-backed. +{82c} Rise, "cherries in the rise," cherries on the twig. First +English, hris, a twig, or thin branch. The old practice of selling +cherries upon shoots cut from the tree ended in their sale by +pennyworths with their stalks tied to a little stick of wood. So +they were sold in London when I was a boy. + +{151b} Sark, shirt or shift. First English, syrc. +{94c} Setiwall, garden valerian. +{147e} Skellum, a worthless fellow. German, schelm. +{149a} Skelpit, beat the ground with strong pulsation; rode quickly; +pounded along. +{150d} Skirl, sound shrill. +{147d} Slaps, breaks in walls or hedges; also narrow passes. +{149b} Smoored, smothered. +{151j} Spean, wean. +{32} Spear-hawk, sparrow-hawk. From the root spar, to quiver or +flutter, comes the name of "sparrow" and a part of the name +"sparrow-hawk." +{94e} Summerhall, Stubbs, in the "Anatomy of Abuses," speaking of +the maypole, tells how villagers, when they have reared it up, "with +handkerchiefs and flags streaming on the top, they strew the ground +about, bind green boughs about it, set up summerhalls, bowers, and +arbours hard by it, and then fall they to banquet and feast, and +leap and dance about it." +{148d} Swats, new ale, wort. First English, swate. + +{88c} Teen, vexation, grief. +{152b} Tint, lost. +{150c} Towsie tyke, a large rough cur. +{92a} Tynsall, loss. + +{147c} Unco', uncouth, more than was known usually. + +{151i} Wally, walie thriving. First English, waelig. +{91c} Warsill, wrestle. +{150b} Winnock-bunker, the window seat. +{93d} Woned, dwelt. +{17} Wottest, knowest. +{88a} Woxen, grown. + +{93a} Yconned, taught. +{81} Yode, went. First English, eode, past of gan, to go. + + + +NOTES. + + + +{21} This old French and Anglo-Norman word, answering to the Italian +gentilezza, and signifying the possession of every species of +refinement, has been retained as supplying a want which there is no +modern word to fill up.--Leigh Hunt. + +{26} The sententious sermon which here follows might have had a +purely serious intention in Chaucer's time, when books were rare, +and moralities not such commonplaces as they are now; yet it is +difficult to believe that the poet did not intend something of a +covert satire upon at least the sermoniser's own pretensions, +especially as the latter had declared himself against text-spinning. +The Host, it is to be observed, had already charged him with +forgetting his own faults, while preaching against those of others. +The refashioner of the original lines has accordingly endeavoured to +retain the kind of tabernacle, or old woman's tone, into which he +conceives the Manciple to have fallen, compared with that of his +narrative style.--Leigh Hunt. + +{42} "We possess," says Satan in Paradise Lost, "the quarters of +the north." The old legend that Milton followed placed Satan in the +north parts of heaven, following the passage in Isaiah concerning +Babylon on which that legend was constructed (Isa. xiv. 12-15), +"Thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will +exalt my throne above the stars of God; I will sit also upon the +mount of the congregation IN THE SIDES OF THE NORTH." + +{49} Alluding to the "Millers Tale," which has rather offended the +Reve, by reason that it ridiculed a worthy carpenter.--R. H. H. + +{50} Or thus:- + For when our climbing's done our speech aspires; + E'EN IN OUR ASHES LIVE THEIR WONTED FIRES. +The original lines are:- + "For whanne we may not don than wol we speken, + Yet in our ashen olde is fyre yreken." +The coincidence of the last line with the one quoted from Gray's +Elegy will be remarked. Mr. Tyrwhit says he should certainly have +considered the latter as an "imitation" (of Chaucer), "if Mr. Gray +himself had not referred us to the 169 Sonnet of Petrarch as his +original:- + Ch' i' veggio nel pensier, dolce mio foco, + Fredda una lingua, e duo begli occhi chiusi + Rimaner dopo noi pien' di faville. +The sentiment is different in all three; but the form of expression +here adopted by Gray closely resembles that of the Father of English +Poetry, although in Gray's time it was no doubt far more elegant to +quote Petrarch than Chaucer.--R. H. Horne. + + + +{125} THE GAME OF OMBRE + + + +was invented by the Spaniards, and called by them El Hombre, or THE +MAN, El Hombre being he (or she) who undertakes the game against the +other players. + +There were variations in the way of playing, and there were +sometimes four or even five players; but usually there were three +players, as described by Pope in the third canto of The Rape of the +Lock, where Belinda played as Ombre against the Baron and another, +and the course of the game is faithfully described. It is the +purpose of this note to enable any reader of The Rape of the Lock to +learn the game of Ombre, play it, and be able to follow Pope's +description of a game. + +The game of Ombre is played with a pack of cards from which the +eights, nines, and tens of each of the four suits have been thrown +out. The Ombre pack consists, therefore, of forty cards. + +The values of cards when they are not trumps are not arranged in the +same order for each colour. + +For the two black suits, Spades and Clubs, the values, from highest +to lowest, follow the natural order--King, Queen, Knave, seven, six, +five, four, three, two. But the two black aces always rank as +trumps, and are not reckoned as parts of the black suit. The Ace of +Spades is named Spadille, the Ace of Clubs is Basto. + +For the two red suits, Hearts and Diamonds, only the King, Queen, +and Knave keep their values in natural order; the other cards have +their order of values reversed. The value from highest to lowest +for each red suit is, therefore, King, Queen, Knave, ace, two, +three, four, five, six, seven. + +The values of trump cards are thus arranged:- + +The first and best trump is the Ace of Spades, Spadille. + +The second best trump is the lowest card of the trump suit, the two +of trumps in a black suit, or the seven of trumps if the trump suit +be red. This second trump is called Manille. + +The third trump is the Ace of Clubs, Basto. + +When the trump suit is red, its Ace becomes the fourth trump. Thus +if Diamonds be trumps the Ace of Diamonds can take the King of +Diamonds; the Ace of Hearts can take the King of Hearts if Hearts be +trumps, not otherwise. There is no addition to the value of the Ace +of Diamonds when Hearts are trumps. The Ace of a red suit of +trumps, having become in this way the fourth trump in order of +value, is called Punto. + +In order of their value, counted from the highest to the lowest, I +now place in parallel columns the trumps in black suits and the +trumps in red:- + + Black. Red. +Spadille, Ace of Spades. Spadille, Ace of Spades. +Manille, the Two of the Manille, the Seven of the trump suit. + Trump suit. +Basto, Ace of Clubs. Basto, Ace of Clubs. +King. Punto, Ace of the trump suit. +Queen. King +Knave. Queen. +Seven. Knave. +Six. Two. +Five. Three. +Four. Four. +Three. Five. + Six. + + +The three chief trumps, Spadille, Manille, and Basto, are called +Matadores, and have powers which, together with their name, are +passed to the trumps following them, so far as they are found in +sequence in the Ombre's hand. Thus, although Spadille, Manille, and +Basto are strictly speaking the only Matadores, if the Ombre can +show also in his hand, say, in the red suit, Punto, King, Queen, +Knave, he takes for seven Matadores; and if there should be joined +to these the two and three, his trumps would be all in sequence, +every card would be a Matadore, and he would be paid for nine, which +is the whole number of cards in a hand. + +Counters having been distributed, among which a fish is worth ten +round counters, each player lays down a fish before the deal. The +cards having been shuffled by the dealer, and cut by the player who +sits on the left hand of the dealer, are dealt three at a time, and +first to the player who sits on the dealer's right hand, which is +contrary to the usual course. The cards are dealt three times +round. Each of the three players then has nine, and the remaining +thirteen cards are laid down at the right hand of the dealer. No +card is turned up to determine trumps. + +Each player then looks at his hand. The eldest hand is that to the +dealer's right. He speaks first. If his cards are bad, and he will +not venture to be Ombre, he says "Pass," and lays a counter down at +his left. If all three players say "Pass," each laying a counter +down, the cards are dealt again. When a player thinks his cards may +win, and is willing to be Ombre, unless he be the third to speak, +and the two other hands have passed, he says "Do you give me leave?" +or "Do you play without taking in?" If the other players say +"Pass," each depositing his counter at his own left hand, the Ombre +begins by discarding from his hand two, three, or more cards that he +thinks unserviceable. He lays them down at his left hand. Then +before he deals to himself from the pack of thirteen left +undistributed the same number of cards that he has thrown out, he +must name the trump suit. In doing this he chooses for himself, +according to his hand, spades, clubs, hearts, diamonds, whichever +suit he thinks will best help him to win. If he has a two of a +black suit, or a seven of a red, he can secure to himself Manille by +making that suit trumps, or there may be reason why another suit +should be preferred. + +If the player who proposes to be Ombre has a safe game in his hand-- +five Matadores, for example--he names the trump and elects to play +Sans-prendre, that is to say, without discarding. Whoever plays +Sans-prendre, if he win, receives three counters from each of the +other players, and pays three counters to each if he should lose the +game. + +When the Ombre plays Sans-Prendre, his opponents have more cards +from which to draw, and the first who discards is even free to +change all his nine cards; but he usually limits his discard to six +or seven, and avoids encroachment on the share of the next player. +The two who play against the Ombre are only half in the position of +partners at whist, because one of them, when his hand is strong +enough, can be the only winner. + +The hands having been thus settled, the game begins, from the hand +on the right of the dealer. After a trick has been taken, the lead, +as at other games, is with the winner of the trick, the order of +play being still from left to right. + +As at whist, a suit led must be followed, and a player who cannot +follow suit is not obliged to play a trump unless he please. + +If the first player who follows the Ombre's lead with a better card, +and has in his hand so good a game that he desires, by winning the +trick, to obtain the lead, he declares that aloud by saying Gano, +that is, "I win." His partner then lets him win, if he can. Thus, +Ombre has played a spade, which the next player wins with the Queen, +saying Gano when he does so. If the third player has the King in +his hand he refrains from playing it, unless he have no spade in his +hand of smaller value, in which case he is obliged to follow suit +and win the trick against his partner. Where the lead is urgently +desired, not for a personal gain of more tricks than the Ombre, +which is called Codille, but to defend the stake, and the third +player is seen to hesitate, Gano may be pressed for, three times, +"Gano, if possible." When Ombre was played by gambling courtiers +under Queen Anne and George I., all such words spoken in the game +had to be given strictly in the Spanish form, which was, in this +case, Yo Gano, si se puede. + +Ombre, to win the stake, must make five tricks; but he can win with +four if the other five are so divided between his antagonists that +one has only three of them, the other only two. If one of the two +defenders of the stakes, playing against Ombre, does not feel almost +sure that he can win at least three tricks, with a chance of the +fourth, he should win one, and try to avoid winning more, but help +whatever chance his partner seems to have of winning four, because +Ombre wins with four when each of the other players has won less +than four. + +If Ombre lose he is said to be Beasted. Whoever loses is said to be +Beasted. Whoever is Beasted has to pay to the board counters of the +value of what the Ombre takes up if he wins. When players were +beasted for revokes and other oversights in play, the fines were +heavy upon carelessness. + +At the end of the game tricks are counted. When Ombre wins he takes +the stakes; when he loses the two opponents will divide the stakes +between them, unless one of them should have taken more tricks than +the Ombre, in which case that one is said to have won Codille. +Whoever wins Codille takes all the stake the Ombre played for. For +this reason it was not thought creditable for any one to call Gano +who had four tricks in his hand, as by so doing he would only be +inducing the other player against Ombre to give up to him his half +of the winnings. Each player against the Ombre aims at Codille when +he thinks it within reach, but in that case it used to be held very +bad manners to win by calling Gano. When one of the players against +the Ombre must either give Codille to the other or let the Ombre +win, he gives the Codille. For if the Ombre be beasted he has to +replace the stakes. But if the Ombre wins, both of the players +against him have to stake again. If any one wins all the nine +tricks he is said to have won the Vole, and clears all stakes upon +the table. + +Belinda, in the Rape of the Lock, having looked at her hand, named +trumps - + +"'Let spades be trumps,' she said, and trumps they were." + +She chose that suit because she had not only the King but also the +two of Spades, and two of trumps, called Manille, is the second best +trump after Spadille. Her hand contained also the Ace of Spades, +"unconquerable lord" Spadille, and the third trump, Basto, Ace of +Clubs. By making spades trumps she secured the addition of Manille. +The three best trumps secured her the three best tricks. Spadille +and Manille fetched small trumps out of the hands of her +antagonists. Basto brought a trump out of the Baron's suit, that +also held the Knave and Queen of trumps, and a small card from the +other hand, which showed that it was out of trumps. Then came +Belinda's King of trumps, to win her fourth sure trick, and the +Baron, who still had his best trumps in his hand, the Knave and +Queen, lost the Knave to it. + +After this the Baron's Queen of trumps was the best card, and +Belinda, with no more trumps in her hand, or possibly the other +player, sacrificed the King of Clubs to it. + +Trumps being exhausted, and the Baron having won a trick and the +lead, it is his turn now to win three tricks in succession with the +King, Queen, and Knave of Diamonds. At the third round of the +Diamonds Belinda has left in her hand only the King and Queen of +Hearts. She gives up the Queen. + +Each has now four tricks. It is the Baron's lead. If his card be +best he has more tricks than the Ombre, and will win Codille. If +his card be a club or a diamond--spades are played out--Belinda's +King of Hearts will be unable to follow suit. He will be taken. +Thus is she "between the jaws of ruin and codille." But should his +last card be a heart--she has the best heart - + +"An Ace of Hearts steps forth: the King unseen +Lurked in her hand, and mourned his captive Queen. +He springs to vengeance with an eager pace, +And falls like thunder on the prostrate Ace. +The nymph exulting, fills with shouts the sky, +The walls, the woods, the long canals reply." + +In addition to the stakes she won, Belinda was entitled also to the +value of four counters from each of her antagonists for her sequence +of four Matadores, Spadille, Manille, Basto, and the King of Spades. +Furthermore, if she had been playing Sans-prendre, each of her +opponents would have three counters to pay her. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PLAYFUL POEMS *** + +This file should be named plpm10.txt or plpm10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, plpm11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, plpm10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/plpm10.zip b/old/plpm10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb0a37e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/plpm10.zip diff --git a/old/plpm10h.htm b/old/plpm10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d7e3b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/plpm10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4979 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Playful Poems</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">Playful Poems, by Henry Morley</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Playful Poems, by Henry Morley + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Playful Poems + +Author: Henry Morley + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6332] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on November 27, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>This etext was produced by Les Bowler, St. Ives, Dorset.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h1>PLAYFUL POEMS, (by various authors)<br />EDITED AND WITH AN INTRODUCTION +BY HENRY MORLEY.</h1> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>CONTENTS.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>INTRODUCTION</p> +<p>CHAUCER’S MANCIPLE’S TALE OF PHŒBUS AND THE CROW<br /> Modernised +by LEIGH HUNT.<br />CHAUCER’S RIME OF SIR THOPAS<br /> Modernised +by Z. A. Z.<br />CHAUCER’S FRIAR’S TALE; OR, THE SUMNER +AND THE DEVIL<br /> Modernised +by LEIGH HUNT.<br />CHAUCER’S REVE’S TALE<br /> Modernised +by R. H. HORNE.<br />CHAUCER’S POEM OF THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE<br /> Modernised +by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.<br />GOWER’S TREASURE TROVE<br /> Modernised +from the fifth book of the CONFESSIO AMANTIS.<br />LYDGATE’S LONDON +LICKPENNY</p> +<p>LYDGATE’S BICORN AND CHICHEVACHE</p> +<p>DUNBAR’S BEST TO BE BLYTH</p> +<p>DRAYTON’S DOWSABELL</p> +<p>DRAYTON’S NYMPHIDIA</p> +<p>POPE’S RAPE OF THE LOCK</p> +<p>COWPER’S JOHN GILPIN</p> +<p>BURNS’S TAM O’SHANTER</p> +<p>HOOD’S DEMON SHIP</p> +<p>HOOD’S TALE OF A TRUMPET</p> +<p>GLOSSARY</p> +<p>NOTES</p> +<p>THE GAME OF OMBRE</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>The last volume of these “Companion Poets” contained +some of Chaucer’s Tales as they were modernised by Dryden. +This volume contains more of his Tales as they were modernised by later +poets. In 1841 there was a volume published entitled, “The +Poems of Geoffrey Chaucer Modernized.” Of this volume, when +it was first projected, Wordsworth wrote to Moxon, his publisher, on +the 24th of February 1840: “Mr. Powell, my friend, has some thought +of preparing for publication some portion of Chaucer modernised, as +far and no farther than is done in my treatment of ‘The Prioress’ +Tale.’ That would, in fact, be his model. He will +have coadjutors, among whom, I believe, will be Mr. Leigh Hunt, +a man as capable of doing the work well as any living writer. +I have placed at my friend Mr. Powell’s disposal three other pieces +which I did long ago, but revised the other day. They are ‘The +Manciple’s Tale,’ ‘The Cuckoo and the Nightingale,’ +and twenty-four stanzas of ‘Troilus and Cressida.’ +This I have done mainly out of my love and reverence for Chaucer, in +hopes that, whatever may be the merits of Mr. Powell’s attempt, +the attention of other writers may be drawn to the subject; and a work +hereafter produced, by different persons, which will place the treasures +of one of the greatest of poets within the reach of the multitude, which +now they are not. I mention all this to you because, though I +have not given Mr. Powell the least encouragement to do so, he may sound +you as to your disposition to undertake the publication. I have +myself nothing further to do with it than I have stated. Had the +thing been suggested to me by any number of competent persons twenty +years ago, I would have undertaken the editorship and done much more +myself, and endeavoured to improve the several contributions where they +seemed to require it. But that is now out of the question.”</p> +<p>Wordsworth had made his versions of Chaucer in the year 1801. +“The Prioress’s Tale” had been published in 1820, +so that only the three pieces he had revised for his friend’s +use were available, and of these the Manciple’s Tale was withdrawn, +the version by Leigh Hunt (which is among the pieces here reprinted) +being used. The volume was published in 1841, not by Moxon but +by Whitaker. Wordsworth’s versions of “The Cuckoo +and the Nightingale” (here reprinted), and of a passage taken +from “Troilus and Cressida,” were included in it. +Leigh Hunt contributed versions of the Manciple’s Tale and the +Friar’s Tale (both here reprinted), and of the Squire’s +Tale. Elizabeth A. Barrett, afterwards Mrs. Browning, contributed +a version of “Queen Annelida and False Arcite.” Richard +Hengist Horne entered heartily into the venture, modernised the Prologue +to the Canterbury Tales, the Reve’s Tale, and the Franklin’s, +and wrote an Introduction of more than a hundred pages, to which Professor +Leonhard Schmitz added thirty-two pages of a Life of Chaucer. +Robert Bell, to whom we were afterwards indebted for an “Annotated +Edition of the English Poets,” modernised the Complaint of Mars +and Venus. Thomas Powell, the editor, contributed his version +of the Legends of Ariadne, Philomene, and Phillis, and of “The +Flower and the Leaf,” and a friend, who signed only as Z. A. Z, +dealt with “The Rime of Sir Thopas.”</p> +<p>After the volume had appeared, Wordsworth thus wrote of it to Professor +Henry Reed of Philadelphia: “There has recently been published +in London a volume of some of Chaucer’s tales and poems modernised; +this little specimen originated in what I attempted with ‘The +Prioress’ Tale,’ and if the book should find its way to +America you will see in it two further specimens from myself. +I had no further connection with the publication than by making a present +of these to one of the contributors. Let me, however, recommend +to your notice the Prologue and the Franklin’s Tale. They +are both by Mr. Horne, a gentleman unknown to me, but are - the latter +in particular - very well done. Mr. Leigh Hunt has not failed +in the Manciple’s Tale, which I myself modernised many years ago; +but though I much admire the genius of Chaucer as displayed in this +performance, I could not place my version at the disposal of the editor, +as I deemed the subject somewhat too indelicate for pure taste to be +offered to the world at this time of day. Mr. Horne has much hurt +this publication by not abstaining from the Reve’s Tale. +This, after making all allowance for the rude manners of Chaucer’s +age, is intolerable; and by indispensably softening down the incidents, +he has killed the spirit of that humour, gross and farcical, that pervades +the original. When the work was first mentioned to me, I protested +as strongly as possible against admitting any coarseness and indelicacy, +so that my conscience is clear of countenancing aught of that kind. +So great is my admiration of Chaucer’s genius, and so profound +my reverence for him. . . for spreading the light of Literature through +his native land, that, notwithstanding the defects and faults in this +publication, I am glad of it, as a means for making many acquainted +with the original, who would otherwise be ignorant of everything about +him but his name.”</p> +<p>Wordsworth’s objection to the Manciple’s Tale from Ovid’s +Metamorphoses was an afterthought. He had begun by offering his +version of it for publication in this volume. His objection to +Horne’s treatment of the Reve’s Tale was reasonable enough. +The original tale was the sixth novel in the ninth day of the Decameron, +and probably was taken by Chaucer from a Fabliau by Jean de Boves, “De +Gombert et des Deux Clercs.” The same story has been imitated +in the “Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles,” and in the “Berceau” +of La Fontaine. Horne’s removal from the tale of everything +that would offend a modern reader was designed to enable thousands to +find pleasure in an old farcical piece that would otherwise be left +unread.</p> +<p>Chaucer’s “Rime of Sir Thopas” was a playful jest +on the long-winded story-telling of the old romances, and had specially +in mind Thomas Chestre’s version of Launfal from Marie of France, +and the same rhymer’s romance of “Ly Beaus Disconus,” +who was Gingelein, a son of Gawain, called by his mother, for his beauty, +only Beaufis (handsome son); but when he offered himself in that name +to be knighted by King Arthur, he was knighted and named by him Li Beaus +Disconus (the fair unknown). This is the method of the tediousness, +in which it showed itself akin to many a rhyming tale.</p> +<p>“And for love of his fair vis<br />His mother clepéd +him Beaufis,<br /> And none other name;<br />And himselvé +was full nis,<br />He ne axéd nought y-wis<br /> What +he hight at his dame.</p> +<p>“As it befel upon a day,<br />To wood he went on his play<br /> Of +deer to have his game;<br />He found a knight, where he lay<br />In +armés that were stout and gay,<br /> Y-slain and made +full tame.</p> +<p>“That child did off the knightés wede,<br />And anon +he gan him schrede<br /> In that rich armoúr.<br />When +he haddé do that dede,<br />To Glasténburý he gede,<br /> There +lay the King Arthoúr.</p> +<p>“He knelde in the hall<br />Before the knightés all,<br /> And +grette hem with honoúr,<br />And said: ‘Arthoúr, +my lord,<br />Grant me to speak a word,<br /> I pray thee, +par amour.</p> +<p>“‘I am a child uncouth,<br />And come out of the south,<br /> And +would be made a knight,<br />Lord, I pray thee nouthe,<br />With thy +merry mouthe,<br /> Grant me anon right.’</p> +<p>“Then said Arthoúr the king,<br />‘Anon, without +dwelling,<br /> Tell me thy name aplight!<br />For sethen +I was ybore,<br />Ne found I me before<br /> None so fair +of sight.’</p> +<p>“That child said, ‘By Saint Jame,<br />I not what is +my name;<br /> I am the moré nis;<br />But while I +was at hame<br />My mother, in her game,<br /> Clepéd +me Beaufis.’</p> +<p>“Then said Arthoúr the king,<br />‘This is a wonder +thing<br /> By God and Saint Denis!<br />When he that would +be knight<br />Ne wot not what he hight,<br /> And is so +fair of vis.</p> +<p>“‘Now will I give him a name<br />Before you all in same,<br /> For +he is so fair and free,<br />By God and by Saint Jame,<br />So clepéd +him ne’er his dame,<br /> What woman so it be.</p> +<p>“‘Now clepéth him all of us,<br />Li Beaus Disconus,<br /> For +the love of me!<br />Then may ye wite a rowe,<br />“‘The +Faire Unknowe,’<br /> Certes, so hatté he”</p> +<p>John Gower’s “Confessio Amantis” was a story book, +like the Canterbury Tales, with a contrivance of its own for stringing +the tales together, and Gower was at work on it nearly about the time +when his friend Chaucer was busy with his Pilgrims. The story +here extracted was an old favourite. It appeared in Greek about +the year 800, in the romance of Barlaam and Josaphat. It was told +by Vincent of Beauvais in the year 1290 in his “Speculum Historiale;” +and it was used by Boccaccio for the first tale of the tenth day of +his “Decameron.”</p> +<p>Chaucer, Gower, Lydgate were the old poetical triumvirate, though +Lydgate, who was about thirty years old when Chaucer died, has slipped +much out of mind. His verses on the adventures of the Kentish +rustic who came to London to get justice in the law courts, and his +words set to the action of an old piece of rustic mumming, “Bicorn +and Chichevache,” here represent his vein of playfulness. +He was a monk who taught literature at Bury St. Edmunds, and was justly +looked upon as the chief poet of the generation who lived after Chaucer’s +death.</p> +<p>Next follows in this volume a scrap of wise counsel to take life +cheerfully, from the Scottish poet, William Dunbar. He lived at +the Scottish Court of James the Fourth when Henry the Seventh reigned +in England, and who was our greatest poet of the north country before +Burns.</p> +<p>Next we come to the poets “who so did please Eliza and our +James,” and represent their playfulness by Drayton’s “Dowsabell,” +and that most exquisite of fairy pieces, his “Nymphidia,” +where Oberon figures as the mad Orlando writ small, and Drayton earned +his claim to be the Fairies’ Laureate, though Herrick, in the +same vein, followed close upon him. Michael Drayton, nearly of +an age with Shakespeare, was, like Shakespeare, a Warwickshire man. +Empty tradition says that Shakespeare died of a too festive supper shared +with his friend Drayton, who came to visit him.</p> +<p>Then follows in this volume the playful treatment of a quarrel between +friends, in Pope’s “Rape of the Lock.” Lord +Petre, aged twenty, audaciously cut from the head of Miss Arabella Fermor, +daughter of Mr. Fermor of Tusmore, a lock of her hair while she was +playing cards in the Queen’s rooms at Hampton Court. Pope’s +friend, Mr. Caryll, suggested to him that a mock heroic treatment of +the resulting quarrel might restore peace, and Pope wrote a poem in +two cantos, which was published in a Miscellany in 1712, Pope’s +age then being twenty-four. But as epic poems required supernatural +machinery, Pope added afterwards to his mock epic the machinery of sylphs +and gnomes, suggested to him by the reading of a French story, “Le +Comte de Gabalis,” by the Abbé Villars. Here there +were sylphs of the air and gnomes of the earth, little spirits who would +be in right proportion to the substance of his poem, which was refashioned +into five cantos, and republished as we have it now in February 1714.</p> +<p>“John Gilpin” was written by William Cowper in the year +1782, when Lady Austin was lodging in the Vicarage at Olney, and spent +every evening with Cowper and Mrs. Unwin, cheering Cowper greatly by +her liveliness. One evening she told the story of John Gilpin’s +ride in a way that tickled the poet’s fancy, set him laughing +when he woke up in the night, and obliged him to turn it next day into +ballad rhyme. Mrs. Unwin’s son sent it to the <i>Public +Advertiser</i>, for the poet’s corner. It was printed in +that newspaper, and thought no more of until about three years later. +Then it was suggested to a popular actor named Henderson, who gave entertainments +of his own, that this piece would tell well among his recitations. +He introduced it into his entertainments, and soon all the town was +running after John Gilpin as madly as the six gentlemen and the post-boy.</p> +<p>John Gilpin’s flight is followed in this volume by the flight +of Tam o’ Shanter. Burns wrote “Tam o’ Shanter” +at Elliesland, and himself considered it the best of all his poems. +He told the story to Captain Grose, as it was current among the people +in his part of the country, its scene laid almost on the spot where +he was born. Captain Grose, the antiquary, who was collecting +materials for his “Antiquities of Scotland,” published in +1789-91, got Burns to versify it and give it to him. The poem +made its first appearance, therefore, in Captain Grose’s book. +Mrs. Burns told of it that it was the work of a day. Burns was +most of the day on his favourite walk by the river, where his wife and +some of the children joined him in the afternoon. Mrs. Burns saw +that her husband was busily engaged “crooning to himsell,” +and she loitered behind with the little ones among the broom. +Presently she was attracted by the poet’s strange and wild gesticulations; +he seemed agonised with an ungovernable joy. He was reciting very +loud. Every circumstance suggested to heighten the impression +of fear in the lines following,</p> +<p> “By this time he was ’cross +the ford<br /> Where in the snaw +the chapman smoored,” etc.,</p> +<p>was taken from local tradition. Shanter was the real name of +a farm near Kirkoswald, then occupied by a Douglas Grahame, who was +much of Tam’s character, and was well content to be called by +his country neighbours Tam o’ Shanter for the rest of his life, +after Burns had made the name of the farm immortal.</p> +<p>Our selection ends with two pieces by Thomas Hood, whose “Tale +of a Trumpet” is luxuriant with play of wit that has its earnest +side. Hood died in 1845.</p> +<p>A Note upon the Game of Ombre is added, which is founded upon the +description of the game in a little book - “The Court Gamester” +- which instructed card-players in the reigns of the first Georges. +In the “Rape of the Lock” there is a game of ombre played +through to the last trick. That note will enable any reader to +follow Belinda’s play. It will also enable any one who may +care to do so to restore to a place among our home amusements a game +which carried all before it in Queen Anne’s day, and which is +really, when cleared of its gambling details, as good a domestic game +for three players as cribbage or piquet is for two. My “Court +Gamester,” which was in its fifth edition in 1728, after devoting +its best energies to ombre, contented its readers in fewer pages with +the addition only of piquet and chess.</p> +<p>Obsolete words and words of Scottish dialect, with a few more as +to the meaning of which some readers might be uncertain, will be found +explained in the Glossary that ends this volume.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAUCER’S MANCIPLE’S TALE OF PHŒBUS AND THE CROW<br />MODERNISED +BY LEIGH HUNT.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>NOTE.</p> +<p><i>The reader is to understand, that all the persons previously described +in the “Prologue to the Canterbury Tales” are now riding +on their way to that city, and each of them telling his tale respectively, +which is preceded by some little bit of incident or conversation on +the road. The agreement, suggested by the Host of the Tabard, +was, first, that each pilgrim should tell a couple of tales while going +to Canterbury, and another couple during the return to London; secondly, +that the narrator of the best one of all should sup at the expense of +the whole party; and thirdly, that the Host himself should be gratuitous +guide on the journey, and arbiter of all differences by the way, with +power to inflict the payment of travelling expenses upon any one who +should gainsay his judgment. During the intervals of the stories +he is accordingly the most prominent person</i>. - LEIGH HUNT.</p> +<p><i>PROLOGUE TO THE MANCIPLE’S TALE.</i></p> +<p>Wottest thou, reader, of a little town, + <a name="citation17"></a><a href="#footnote17">{17}</a><br />Which +thereabouts they call Bob-up-and-down,<br />Under the Blee, in Canterbury +way?<br />Well, there our host began to jest and play,<br />And said, +“Hush, hush now: Dun is in the mire.<br />What, sirs? will nobody, +for prayer or hire,<br />Wake our good gossip, sleeping here behind?<br />Here +were a bundle for a thief to find.<br />See, how he noddeth! by St. +Peter, see!<br />He’ll tumble off his saddle presently.<br />Is +that a cook of London, red flames take him!<br />He knoweth the agreement +- wake him, wake him:<br />We’ll have his tale, to keep him from +his nap,<br />Although the drink turn out not worth the tap.<br />Awake, +thou cook,” quoth he; “God say thee nay;<br />What aileth +thee to sleep thus in the day?<br />Hast thou had fleas all night? or +art thou drunk?<br />Or didst thou sup with my good lord the monk,<br />And +hast a jolly surfeit in thine head?”</p> +<p> This cook that was full pale, and nothing red,<br />Stared +up, and said unto the host, “God bless<br />My soul, I feel such +wondrous heaviness,<br />I know not why, that I would rather sleep<br />Than +drink of the best gallon-wine in Cheap.”</p> +<p> “Well,” quoth the Manciple, “if it +might ease<br />Thine head, Sir Cook, and also none displease<br />Of +all here riding in this company,<br />And mine host grant it, I would +pass thee by,<br />Till thou art better, and so tell <i>my</i> tale;<br />For +in good faith thy visage is full pale;<br />Thine eyes grow dull, methinks; +and sure I am,<br />Thy breath resembleth not sweet marjoram,<br />Which +showeth thou canst utter no good matter:<br />Nay, thou mayst frown +forsooth, but I’ll not flatter.<br />See, how he gapeth, lo! this +drunken wight;<br />He’ll swallow us all up before he’ll +bite;<br />Hold close thy mouth, man, by thy father’s kin;<br />The +fiend himself now set his foot therein,<br />And stop it up, for ’twill +infect us all;<br />Fie, hog; fie, pigsty; foul thy grunt befall.<br />Ah +- see, he bolteth! there, sirs, was a swing;<br />Take heed - he’s +bent on tilting at the ring:<br />He’s the shape, isn’t +he? to tilt and ride!<br />Eh, you mad fool! go to your straw, and hide.”</p> +<p> Now with this speech the cook for rage grew black,<br />And +would have stormed, but could not speak, alack!<br />So mumbling something, +from his horse fell he,<br />And where he fell, there lay he patiently,<br />Till +pity on his shame his fellows took.<br />Here was a pretty horseman +of a cook!<br />Alas! that he had held not by his ladle!<br />And ere +again they got him on his saddle,<br />There was a mighty shoving to +and fro<br />To lift him up, and muckle care and woe,<br />So heavy +was this carcase of a ghost.<br />Then to the Manciple thus spake our +host:-<br />“Since drink upon this man hath domination,<br />By +nails! and as I reckon my salvation,<br />I trow he would have told +a sorry tale;<br />For whether it be wine, or it be ale,<br />That he +hath drank, he speaketh through the nose,<br />And sneezeth much, and +he hath got the <i>pose</i>, <a name="citation19"></a><a href="#footnote19">{19}</a><br />And +also hath given us business enow<br />To keep him on his horse, out +of the slough;<br />He’ll fall again, if he be driven to speak,<br />And +then, where are we, for a second week?<br />Why, lifting up his heavy +drunken corse!<br />Tell on thy tale, and look we to his horse.<br />Yet, +Manciple, in faith thou art too nice<br />Thus openly to chafe him for +his vice.<br />Perchance some day he’ll do as much for thee,<br />And +bring thy baker’s bills in jeopardy,<br />Thy black jacks also, +and thy butcher’s matters,<br />And whether they square nicely +with thy platters.”</p> +<p> “Mine,” quoth the Manciple, “were then +the mire!<br />Much rather would I pay his horse’s hire,<br />And +that will be no trifle, mud and all,<br />Than risk the peril of so +sharp a fall.<br />I did but jest. Score not, ye’ll be not scored.<br />And +guess ye what? I have here, in my gourd,<br />A draught of wine, +better was never tasted,<br />And with this cook’s ladle will +I be basted,<br />If he don’t drink of it, right lustily.<br />Upon +my life he’ll not say nay. Now see.</p> +<p> And true it was, the cook drank fast enough;<br />Down +went the drink out of the gourd, <i>fluff, fluff:<br /></i>Alas! the +man had had enough before:<br />And then, betwixt a trumpet and a snore,<br />His +nose said something, - grace for what he had;<br />And of that drink +the cook was wondrous glad.</p> +<p> Our host nigh burst with laughter at the sight,<br />And +sighed and wiped his eyes for pure delight,<br />And said, “Well, +I perceive it’s necessary,<br />Where’er we go, good wine +with us to carry.<br />What needeth in this world more strifes befall?<br />Good +wine’s the doctor to appease them all.<br />O, Bacchus, Bacchus! +blessed be thy name,<br />That thus canst turn our earnest into game.<br />Worship +and thanks be to thy deity.<br />So on this head ye get no more from +me.<br />Tell on thy tale, Manciple, I thee pray.”</p> +<p>“Well, sire,” quoth he, “now hark to what I say.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><i>THE MANCIPLE’S TALE OF PHŒBUS AND THE CROW</i>.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>When Phœbus dwelt with men, in days of yore,<br />He was the +very lustiest bachelor<br />Of all the world; and shot in the best bow.<br />’Twas +he, as the old books of stories show,<br />That shot the serpent Python, +as he lay<br />Sleeping against the sun, upon a day:<br />And many another +noble worthy deed<br />He did with that same bow, as men may read.</p> +<p> He played all kinds of music: and so clear<br />His singing +was, and such a heaven to hear,<br />Men might not speak during his +madrigal.<br />Amphion, king of Thebes, that put a wall<br />About the +city with his melody,<br />Certainly sang not half so well as he.<br />And +add to this, he was the seemliest man<br />That is, or has been, since +the world began.<br />What needs describe his beauty? since there’s +none<br />With which to make the least comparison.<br />In brief, he +was the flower of <i>gentilesse</i>, <a name="citation21"></a><a href="#footnote21">{21}</a><br />Of +honour, and of perfect worthiness:<br />And yet, take note, for all +this mastery,<br />This Phœbus was of cheer so frank and free,<br />That +for his sport, and to commend the glory<br />He gat him o’er the +snake (so runs the story),<br />He used to carry in his hand a bow.</p> +<p> Now this same god had in his house a crow,<br />Which +in a cage he fostered many a day,<br />And taught to speak, as folks +will teach a jay.<br />White was the crow; as is a snow-white swan,<br />And +could repeat a tale told by a man,<br />And sing. No nightingale, +down in a dell,<br />Could sing one-hundred-thousandth part so well.</p> +<p> Now had this Phœbus in his house a wife<br />Which +that he loved beyond his very life:<br />And night and day did all his +diligence<br />To please her well, and do her reverence;<br />Save only, +to speak truly, <i>inter nos</i>,<br />Jealous he was, and would have +kept her close:<br />He wished not to be treated monstrously:<br />Neither +does any man, no more than he;<br />Only to hinder wives, it serveth +nought; -<br />A good wife, that is clean of work and thought,<br />No +man would dream of hindering such a way.<br />And just as bootless is +it, night or day,<br />Hindering a shrew; for it will never be.<br />I +hold it for a very foppery,<br />Labour in vain, this toil to hinder +wives,<br />Old writers always say so, in their Lives.</p> +<p> But to my story, as it first began.<br />This worthy +Phœbus doeth all he can<br />To please his wife, in hope, so pleasing +her,<br />That she, for her part, would herself bestir<br />Discreetly, +so as not to lose his grace;<br />But, Lord he knows, there’s +no man shall embrace<br />A thing so close, as to restrain what Nature<br />Hath +naturally set in any creature.</p> +<p> Take any bird, and put it in a cage,<br />And do thy +best and utmost to engage<br />The bird to love it; give it meat and +drink,<br />And every dainty housewives can bethink,<br />And keep the +cage as cleanly as you may,<br />And let it be with gilt never so gay,<br />Yet +had this bird, by twenty-thousand-fold,<br />Rather be in a forest wild +and cold,<br />And feed on worms and suchlike wretchedness;<br />Yea, +ever will he tax his whole address<br />To get out of the cage when +that he may:-<br />His liberty the bird desireth aye.</p> +<p> So, take a cat, and foster her with milk<br />And tender +meat, and make her bed of silk,<br />Yet let her see a mouse go by the +wall,<br />The devil may take, for her, silk, milk, and all,<br />And +every dainty that is in the house;<br />Such appetite hath she to eat +the mouse.<br />Lo, here hath Nature plainly domination,<br />And appetite +renounceth education.</p> +<p> A she-wolf likewise hath a villain’s kind:<br />The +worst and roughest wolf that she can find,<br />Or least of reputation, +will she wed,<br />When the time comes to make her marriage-bed.</p> +<p> But misinterpret not my speech, I pray;<br />All this +of men, not women, do I say;<br />For men it is, that come and spoil +the lives<br />Of such, as but for them, would make good wives.<br />They +leave their own wives, be they never so fair,<br />Never so true, never +so debonair,<br />And take the lowest they may find, for change.<br />Flesh, +the fiend take it, is so given to range,<br />It never will continue, +long together,<br />Contented with good, steady, virtuous weather.</p> +<p> This Phœbus, while on nothing ill thought he,<br />Jilted +he was, for all his jollity;<br />For under him, his wife, at her heart’s-root,<br />Another +had, a man of small repute,<br />Not worth a blink of Phœbus; +more’s the pity;<br />Too oft it falleth so, in court and city.<br />This +wife, when Phœbus was from home one day,<br />Sent for her lemman +then, without delay.<br />Her lemman! - a plain word, I needs must own;<br />Forgive +it me; for Plato hath laid down,<br />The word must suit according with +the deed;<br />Word is work’s cousin-german, ye may read:<br />I’m +a plain man, and what I say is this:<br />Wife high, wife low, if bad, +both do amiss:<br />But because one man’s wench sitteth above,<br />She +shall be called his Lady and his Love;<br />And because t’other’s +sitteth low and poor,<br />She shall be called, - Well, well, I say +no more;<br />Only God knoweth, man, mine own dear brother,<br />One +wife is laid as low, just, as the other.</p> +<p> Right so betwixt a lawless, mighty chief<br />And a rude +outlaw, or an arrant thief,<br />Knight arrant or thief arrant, all +is one;<br />Difference, as Alexander learnt, there’s none;<br />But +for the chief is of the greater might,<br />By force of numbers, to +slay all outright,<br />And burn, and waste, and make as flat as floor,<br />Lo, +therefore is he clept a conqueror;<br />And for the other hath his numbers +less,<br />And cannot work such mischief and distress,<br />Nor be by +half so wicked as the chief,<br />Men clepen him an outlaw and a thief.</p> +<p> However, I am no text-spinning man;<br />So to my tale +I go, as I began.</p> +<p> Now with her lemman is this Phœbus’ wife;<br />The +crow he sayeth nothing, for his life;<br />Caged hangeth he, and sayeth +not a word;<br />But when that home was come Phœbus the lord,<br />He +singeth out, and saith, - “Cuckoo! cuckoo!”<br />“Hey!” +crieth Phœbus, “here be something new;<br />Thy song was +wont to cheer me. What is this?”<br />“By Jove!” +quoth Corvus, “I sing not amiss.<br />Phœbus,” quoth +he; “for all thy worthiness,<br />For all thy beauty and all thy +gentilesse,<br />For all thy song and all thy minstrelsy,<br />And all +thy watching, blearéd is thine eye;<br />Yea, and by one no worthier +than a gnat,<br />Compared with him should boast to wear thine hat.”</p> +<p> What would you more? the crow hath told him all;<br />This +woful god hath turned him to the wall<br />To hide his tears: he thought +’twould burst his heart;<br />He bent his bow, and set therein +a dart,<br />And in his ire he hath his wife yslain;<br />He hath; he +felt such anger and such pain;<br />For sorrow of which he brake his +minstrelsy,<br />Both harp and lute, gittern and psaltery,<br />And +then he brake his arrows and his bow,<br />And after that, thus spake +he to the crow:-</p> +<p> “Traitor,” quoth he, “behold what thou +hast done;<br />Made me the saddest wretch beneath the sun:<br />Alas! +why was I born! O dearest wife,<br />Jewel of love and joy, my +only life,<br />That wert to me so steadfast and so true,<br />There +liest thou dead; why am not I so too?<br />Full innocent thou wert, +that durst I swear;<br />O hasty hand, to bring me to despair!<br />O +troubled wit, O anger without thought,<br />That unadviséd smitest, +and for nought:<br />O heart of little faith, full of suspicion,<br />Where +was thy handsomeness and thy discretion?<br />O every man, hold hastiness +in loathing;<br />Believe, without strong testimony, nothing;<br />Smite +not too soon, before ye well know why;<br />And be adviséd well +and soberly<br />Before ye trust yourselves to the commission<br />Of +any ireful deed upon suspicion.<br />Alas! a thousand folk hath hasty +ire<br />Foully foredone, and brought into the mire.<br />Alas! I’ll +kill myself for misery.”</p> +<p> And to the crow, “O thou false thief!” said +he,<br />I’ll quit thee, all thy life, for thy false tale;<br />Thou +shalt no more sing like the nightingale,<br />Nor shalt thou in those +fair white feathers go,<br />Thou silly thief, thou false, black-hearted +crow;<br />Nor shalt thou ever speak like man again;<br />Thou shalt +not have the power to give such pain;<br />Nor shall thy race wear any +coat but black,<br />And ever shall their voices crone and crack<br />And +be a warning against wind and rain,<br />In token that by thee my wife +was slain.”</p> +<p> So to the crow he started, like one mad,<br />And tore +out every feather that he had,<br />And made him black, and reft him +of his stores<br />Of song and speech, and flung him out of doors<br />Unto +the devil; whence never come he back,<br />Say I. Amen. +And hence all crows are black.</p> +<p> Lordings, by this example I you pray<br />Take heed, +and be discreet in what you say;<br />And above all, tell no man, for +your life,<br />How that another man hath kissed his wife.<br />He’ll +hate you mortally; be sure of that;<br />Dan Solomon, in teacher’s +chair that sat,<br />Bade us keep all our tongues close as we can;<br />But, +as I said, I’m no text-spinning man,<br />Only, I must say, thus +taught me my dame; <a name="citation26"></a><a href="#footnote26">{26}</a><br />My +son, think on the crow in God his name;<br />My son, keep well thy tongue, +and keep thy friend;<br />A wicked tongue is worse than any fiend;<br />My +son, a fiend’s a thing for to keep down;<br />My son, God in his +great discretion<br />Walléd a tongue with teeth, and eke with +lips,<br />That man may think, before his speech out slips.<br />A little +speech spoken advisedly<br />Brings none in trouble, speaking generally.<br />My +son, thy tongue thou always shouldst restrain,<br />Save only at such +times thou dost thy pain<br />To speak of God in honour and in prayer;<br />The +chiefest virtue, son, is to beware<br />How thou lett’st loose +that endless thing, thy tongue;<br />This every soul is taught, when +he is young:<br />My son, of muckle speaking ill-advised,<br />And where +a little speaking had sufficed,<br />Com’th muckle harm. +This was me told and taught, -<br />In muckle speaking, sinning wanteth +nought.<br />Know’st thou for what a tongue that’s hasty +serveth?<br />Right as a sword forecutteth and forecarveth<br />An arm +in two, my dear son, even so<br />A tongue clean-cutteth friendship +at a blow.<br />A jangler is to God abominable:<br />Read Solomon, so +wise and honourable;<br />Read David in his Psalms, read Seneca;<br />My +son, a nod is better than a say;<br />Be deaf, when folk speak matter +perilous;<br />Small prate, sound pate, - guardeth the Fleming’s +house.<br />My son, if thou no wicked word hast spoken,<br />Thou never +needest fear a pate ybroken;<br />But he that hath missaid, I dare well +say,<br />His fingers shall find blood thereon, some day.<br />Thing +that is said, is said; it may not back<br />Be called, for all your +“Las!” and your “Alack!”<br />And he is that +man’s thrall to whom ’twas said;<br />Cometh the bond some +day, and will be paid.<br />My son, beware, and be no author new<br />Of +tidings, whether they be false or true:<br />Go wheresoe’er thou +wilt, ’mongst high or low,<br />Keep well thy tongue, and think +upon the crow.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAUCER’S RIME OF SIR THOPAS<br />MODERNISED BY Z. A. Z.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><i>PROLOGUE TO SIR THOPAS.</i></p> +<p>1.<br />Now when the Prioress had done, each man<br />So serious +looked, ’twas wonderful to see!<br />Till our good host to banter +us began,<br />And then at last he cast his eyes on me,<br />And jeering +said, “What man art thou?” quoth he,<br />“That lookest +down as thou wouldst find a hare,<br />For ever upon the ground I see +thee stare.</p> +<p>2.<br />“Approach me near, and look up merrily!<br />Now make +way, sirs! and let this man have place.<br />He in the waist is shaped +as well as I:<br />This were a poppet in an arm’s embrace,<br />For +any woman, small and fair of face.<br />He seemeth elf-like by his countenance,<br />For +with no wight holdeth he dalliance.</p> +<p>3.<br />“Say somewhat now, since other folks have said;<br />Tell +us a tale o’ mirth, and that anon.”<br />“Host,” +quoth I then, “be not so far misled,<br />For other tales except +this know I none;<br />A little rime I learned in years agone.”<br />“Ah! +that is well,” quoth he; “now we shall hear<br />Some dainty +thing, methinketh, by thy cheer.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><i>THE RIME OF SIR THOPAS.</i></p> +<p><i>FYTTE THE FIRST</i>. <a name="citation30"></a><a href="#footnote30">{30}</a></p> +<p>1.<br />Listen, lordlings, in good intent,<br />And I will tell you +<i>verament<br /></i> Of mirth and chivalry,<br />About a +knight on glory bent,<br />In battle and in tournament;<br /> Sir +Thopas named was he.</p> +<p>2.<br />And he was born in a far countréy,<br />In Flanders, +all beyond the sea,<br /> At Popering in the place;<br />His +father was a man full free,<br />And of that country lord was he,<br /> Enjoyed +by holy grace.</p> +<p>3.<br />Sir Thopas was a doughty swain,<br />Fair was his face as +<i>pain de Maine,<br /></i> His lips were red as rose;<br />His +ruddy cheeks like scarlet grain;<br />And I tell you in good certaine,<br /> He +had a seemly nose.</p> +<p>4.<br />His hair and beard like saffron shone,<br />And to his girdle +fell adown;<br /> His shoes of leather bright;<br />Of Bruges +were his hose so brown,<br />His robe it was of ciclatoun -<br /> He +was a costly wight:</p> +<p>5.<br />Well could he hunt the strong wild deer,<br />And ride a +hawking for his cheer<br /> With grey goshawk on hand;<br />His +archery filled the woods with fear,<br />In wrestling eke he had no +peer, -<br /> No man ’gainst him could stand.</p> +<p>6.<br />Full many a maiden bright in bower<br />Was sighing for him +<i>par amour<br /></i> Between her prayers and sleep,<br />But +he was chaste, beyond their power,<br />And sweet as is the bramble +flower<br /> That beareth the red hip.</p> +<p>7.<br />And so it fell upon a day,<br />Forsooth, as I now sing and +say,<br /> Sir Thopas went to ride;<br />He rode upon his +courser grey,<br />And in his hand a lance so gay,<br /> A +long sword by his side.</p> +<p>8.<br />He rode along a forest fair,<br />Many a wild beast dwelling +there;<br /> (Mercy in heaven defend!)<br />And there was +also buck and hare;<br />And as he went, he very near<br /> Met +with a sorry end.</p> +<p>9.<br />And herbs sprang up, or creeping ran;<br />The liquorice, +and valerian,<br /> Clove-gillyflowers, sun-dressed;<br />And +nutmeg, good to put in ale,<br />Whether it be moist or stale, -<br /> Or +to lay sweet in chest,</p> +<p>10.<br />The birds all sang, as tho’ ’twere May;<br />The +spearhawk, and the popinjay, + <a name="citation32"></a><a href="#footnote32">{32}</a><br /> It +was a joy to hear;<br />The throstle cock made eke his lay,<br />The +wood-dove sung upon the spray,<br /> With note full loud +and clear.</p> +<p>11.<br />Sir Thopas fell in love-longing<br />All when he heard the +throstle sing,<br /> And spurred his horse like mad,<br />So +that all o’er the blood did spring,<br />And eke the white foam +you might wring:<br /> The steed in foam seemed clad.</p> +<p>12.<br />Sir Thopas eke so weary was<br />Of riding on the fine soft +grass,<br /> While love burnt in his breast,<br />That down +he laid him in that place<br />To give his courser some soláce,<br /> Some +forage and some rest.</p> +<p>13.<br />Saint Mary! benedicite!<br />What meaneth all this love +in me,<br /> That haunts me in the wood?<br />This night, +in dreaming, did I see<br />An elf queen shall my true love be,<br /> And +sleep beneath my hood.</p> +<p>14.<br />An elf queen will I love, I wis,<br />For in this world +no woman is<br /> Worthy to be my bride;<br />All other damsels +I forsake,<br />And to an elf queen will I take,<br /> By +grove and streamlet’s side.</p> +<p>15.<br />Into his saddle be clomb anon,<br />And pricketh over stile +and stone,<br /> An elf queen to espy;<br />Till he so long +had ridden and gone,<br />That he at last upon a morn<br /> The +fairy land came nigh.</p> +<p>16.<br />Therein he sought both far and near,<br />And oft he spied +in daylight clear<br /> Through many a forest wild;<br />But +in that wondrous land I ween,<br />No living wight by him was seen,<br /> Nor +woman, man, nor child.</p> +<p>17.<br />At last there came a giant gaunt,<br />And he was named +Sir Oliphaunt,<br /> A perilous man of deed:<br />And he +said, “Childe, by Termagaunt,<br />If thou ride not from this +my haunt,<br /> Soon will I slay thy steed<br /> With +this victorious mace;<br />For here’s the lovely Queen of Faery,<br />With +harp and pipe and symphony,<br /> A-dwelling in this place.”</p> +<p>18.<br />Childe Thopas said right haughtily,<br />“To-morrow +will I combat thee<br /> In armour bright as flower;<br />And +then I promise <i>‘par ma fay’<br /></i>That thou shalt +feel this javelin gay,<br /> And dread its wondrous power.<br /> To-morrow +we shall meet again,<br />And I will pierce thee, if I may,<br />Upon +the golden prime of day; -<br /> And here you shall be slain.”</p> +<p>19.<br />Sir Thopas drew aback full fast;<br />The giant at him huge +stones cast,<br /> Which from a staff-sling fly;<br />But +well escaped the Childe Thopás,<br />And it was all through God’s +good grace,<br /> And through his bearing high.</p> +<p>20.<br />Still listen, gentles, to my tale,<br />Merrier than the +nightingale; -<br /> For now I must relate,<br />How that +Sir Thopas rideth o’er<br />Hill and dale and bright sea-shore,<br /> E’en +to his own estate.</p> +<p>21.<br />His merry men commandeth he<br />To make for him the game +and glee;<br /> For needs he must soon fight<br />With a +giant fierce, with strong heads three,<br />For paramour and jollity,<br /> And +chivalry so bright.</p> +<p>22.<br />“Come forth,” said he, “my minstrels fair,<br />And +tell me tales right debonair,<br /> While I am clad and armed;<br />Romances, +full of real tales,<br />Of dames, and popes, and cardinals,<br /> And +maids by wizards charmed.”</p> +<p>23.<br />They bore to him the sweetest wine<br />In silver cup; the +muscadine,<br /> With spices rare of Ind;<br />Fine gingerbread, +in many a slice,<br />With cummin seed, and liquorice,<br /> And +sugar thrice refined.</p> +<p>24.<br />Then next to his white skin he ware<br />A cloth of fleecy +wool, as fair,<br /> Woven into a shirt;<br />Next that he +put a cassock on,<br />And over that an habergeon, + <a name="citation35"></a><a href="#footnote35">{35}</a><br /> To +guard right well his heart.</p> +<p>25.<br />And over that a hauberk went<br />Of Jews’ work, and +most excellent;<br /> Full strong was every plate;<br />And +over that his coat armoúre,<br />As white as is the lily flower,<br /> In +which he would debate.</p> +<p>26.<br />His shield was all of gold so red,<br />And thereon was +a wild boar’s head,<br /> A carbuncle beside;<br />And +then he swore on ale and bread,<br />How that the giant should be dead,<br /> Whatever +should betide!</p> +<p>27.<br />His boots were glazed right curiously,<br />His sword-sheath +was of ivory,<br /> His helm all brassy bright;<br />His +saddle was of jet-black bone,<br />His bridle like the bright sun shone,<br /> Or +like the clear moons light,</p> +<p>28.<br />His spear was of the cypress tree,<br />That bodeth battle +right and free;<br /> The point full sharp was ground;<br />His +steed it was a dapple grey,<br />That goeth an amble on the way,<br /> Full +softly and full round.</p> +<p>29.<br />Lo! lordlings mine, here ends one fytte<br /> Of +this my tale, a gallant strain;<br />And if ye will hear more of it,<br /> I’ll +soon begin again.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><i>FYTTE THE SECOND.</i></p> +<p>1.<br />Now hold your speech for charity,<br />Both gallant knight +and lady free,<br /> And hearken to my song<br />Of battle +and of chivalry,<br />Of ladies’ love and minstrelsy,<br /> All +ambling thus along.</p> +<p>2.<br />Men speak much of old tales, I know;<br />Of Hornchild, Ipotis, +alsó<br /> Of Bevis and Sir Guy;<br />Of Sire Libeaux, +and Pleindamour;<br />But Sire Thopas, he is the flower<br /> Of +real chivalry.</p> +<p>3.<br />Now was his gallant steed bestrode,<br />And forth upon his +way he rode,<br /> As spark flies from a brand;<br />Upon +his crest he bare a tower,<br />And therein stuck a lily flower:<br /> Save +him from giant hand.</p> +<p>4.<br />He was a knight in battle bred,<br />And in no house would +seek his bed,<br /> But laid him in the wood;<br />His pillow +was his helmet bright, -<br />His horse grazed by him all the night<br /> On +herbs both fine and good.</p> +<p>5.<br />And he drank water from the well,<br />As did the knight +Sir Percival,<br /> So worthy under weed;<br />Till on a +day -</p> +<p><i>[Here Chaucer is interrupted in his Rime.]</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>EPILOGUE TO RIME.</i></p> +<p>“No more of this, for Heaven’s high dignity!”<br />Quoth +then our Host, “for, lo! thou makest me<br />So weary of thy very +simpleness,<br />That all so wisely may the Lord me bless,<br />My very +ears, with thy dull rubbish, ache.<br />Now such a rime at once let +Satan take.<br />This may be well called ‘doggrel rime,’” +quoth he.<br />“Why so?” quoth I; “why wilt thou not +let me<br />Tell all my tale, like any other man,<br />Since that it +is the best rime that I can?”<br />“Mass!” quoth our +Host, “if that I hear aright,<br />Thy scraps of rhyming are not +worth a mite;<br />Thou dost nought else but waste away our time:-<br />Sir, +at one word, thou shalt no longer rhyme.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAUCER’S FRIAR’S TALE; or, THE SUMNER AND THE DEVIL<br />MODERNISED +BY LEIGH HUNT.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>There lived, sirs, in my country, formerly,<br />A wondrous great +archdeacon, - who but he?<br />Who boldly did the work of his high station<br />In +punishing improper conversation,<br />And all the slidings thereunto +belonging;<br />Witchcraft, and scandal also, and the wronging<br />Of +holy Church, by blinking of her dues<br />In sacraments and contracts, +wills and pews;<br />Usury furthermore, and simony;<br />But people +of ill lives most loathéd he:<br />Lord! how he made them sing +if they were caught.<br />And tithe-defaulters, ye may guess, were taught<br />Never +to venture on the like again;<br />To the last farthing would he rack +and strain.<br />For stinted tithes, or stinted offering,<br />He made +the people piteously to sing.<br />He left no leg for the good bishop’s +crook;<br />Down went the black sheep in his own black book;<br />For +when the name gat there, such dereliction<br />Came, you must know, +sirs, in his jurisdiction.</p> +<p> He had a Sumner ready to his hand;<br />A slyer bully +filched not in the land;<br />For in all parts the villain had his spies<br />To +let him know where profit might arise.<br />Well could he spare ill +livers, three or four,<br />To help his net to four-and-twenty more.<br />’Tis +truth. Your Sumner may stare hard for me;<br />I shall not screen, +not I, his villainy;<br />For heaven be thanked, <i>laudetur Dominus,<br /></i>They +have no hold, these cursed thieves, on us;<br />Nor never shall have, +let ’em thieve till doom.</p> +<p> [“No,” cried the Sumner, starting from his +gloom,<br />“Nor have we any hold, Sir Shaven-crown,<br />On your +fine flock, the ladies of the town.”<br /> “Peace, +with a vengeance,” quoth our Host, “and let<br />The tale +be told. Say on, thou marmoset,<br />Thou lady’s friar, +and let the Sumner sniff.”]</p> +<p> “Well,” quoth the Friar; “this Sumner, +this false thief,<br />Had scouts in plenty ready to his hand,<br />Like +any hawks, the sharpest in the land,<br />Watching their birds to pluck, +each in his mew,<br />Who told him all the secrets that they knew,<br />And +lured him game, and gat him wondrous profit;<br />Exceeding little knew +his master of it.<br />Sirs, he would go, without a writ, and take<br />Poor +wretches up, feigning it for Christ’s sake,<br />And threatening +the poor people with his curse,<br />And all the while would let them +fill his purse,<br />And to the alehouse bring him by degrees,<br />And +then he’d drink with them, and slap his knees<br />For very mirth, +and say ’twas some mistake.<br />Judas carried the bag, sirs, +for Christ’s sake,<br />And was a thief; and such a thief was +he;<br />His master got but sorry share, <i>pardie</i>.<br />To give +due laud unto this Satan’s imp,<br />He was a thief, a Sumner, +and a pimp.</p> +<p> Wenches themselves were in his retinue;<br />So whether +’twas Sir Robert, or Sir Hugh,<br />Or Jack, or Ralph, that held +the damsel dear,<br />Come would she then, and tell it in his ear:<br />Thus +were the wench and he of one accord;<br />And he would feign a mandate +from his lord,<br />And summon them before the court, those two,<br />And +pluck the man, and let the mawkin go.<br />Then would he say, “Friend, +for thine honest look,<br />I save thy name, this once, from the black +book;<br />Thou hear’st no further of this case.” - But, +Lord!<br />I might not in two years his bribes record.<br />There’s +not a dog alive, so speed my soul,<br />Knoweth a hurt deer better from +a whole<br />Than this false Sumner knew a tainted sheep,<br />Or where +this wretch would skulk, or that would sleep,<br />Or to fleece both +was more devoutly bent;<br />And reason good; his faith was in his rent.</p> +<p> And so befell, that once upon a day,<br />This Sumner, +prowling ever for his prey,<br />Rode forth to cheat a poor old widowed +soul,<br />Feigning a cause for lack of protocol,<br />And as he went, +he saw before him ride<br />A yeoman gay under the forest side.<br />A +bow he bare, and arrows bright and keen;<br />And he was clad in a short +cloak of green,<br />And wore a hat that had a fringe of black.</p> +<p> “Sir,” quoth this Sumner, shouting at his +back,<br />“Hail, and well met.” - “Well met,” +like shouteth he;<br />“Where ridest thou under the greenwood +tree?<br />Goest thou far, thou jolly boy, to-day?”<br /> This +bully Sumner answered, and said, “Nay,<br />Only hard-by, to strain +a rent.” - “Hoh! hoh!<br />Art thou a bailiff then?” +- “Yea, even so.”<br />For he durst not, for very filth +and shame,<br />Say that he was a Sumner, for the name.<br /> “Well +met, in God’s name,” quoth black fringe; “why, brother,<br />Thou +art a bailiff then, and I’m another;<br />But I’m a stranger +in these parts; so, prythee,<br />Lend me thine aid, and let me journey +with thee.<br />I’ve gold and silver, plenty, where I dwell;<br />And +if thou hap’st to come into our dell,<br />Lord! how we’ll +do our best to give thee greeting!”<br /> “Thanks,” +quoth the Sumner; “merry be our meeting.”<br />So in each +other’s hand their troths they lay,<br />And swear accord: and +forth they ride and play.</p> +<p> This Sumner then, which was as full of stir,<br />And +prate, and prying, as a woodpecker,<br />And ever inquiring upon everything,<br />Said, +“Brother, where is thine inhabiting,<br />In case I come to find +thee out some day?”</p> +<p> This yeoman dropped his speech in a soft way,<br />And +said, “Far in the north. But ere we part, <a name="citation42"></a><a href="#footnote42">{42}</a><br />I +trow thou shalt have learnt it so by heart,<br />Thou mayst not miss +it, be it dark as pitch.”</p> +<p> “Good,” quoth the Sumner. “Now, as +thou art rich,<br />Show me, dear brother, riding thus with me,<br />Since +we are bailiffs both, some subtlety,<br />How I may play my game best, +and may win:<br />And spare not, pray, for conscience or for sin,<br />But, +as my brother, tell me how do ye.”</p> +<p> “Why, ’faith, to tell thee a plain tale,” +quoth he,<br />“As to my wages, they be poor enough;<br />My lord’s +a dangerous master, hard and chuff;<br />And since my labour bringeth +but abortion,<br />I live, so please ye, brother, by extortion,<br />I +take what I can get; that is my course;<br />By cunning, if I may; if +not, by force;<br />So cometh, year by year, my salary.”<br /> “Now +certes,” quote the Sumner, “so fare I.<br />I lay my hands +on everything, God wot,<br />Unless it be too heavy or too hot.<br />What +I may get in counsel, privily,<br />I feel no sort of qualm thereon, +not I.<br />Extortion or starvation; - that’s my creed.<br />Repent +who list. The best of saints must feed.<br />That’s all +the stomach that my conscience knoweth.<br />Curse on the ass that to +confession goeth.<br />Well be we met, ’Od’s heart! and +by my dame!<br />But tell me, brother dear, what is thy name?”</p> +<p> Now ye must know, that right in this meanwhile,<br />This +yeoman ’gan a little for to smile.<br />“Brother,” +quoth he, “my name, if I must tell -<br />I am a fiend: my dwelling +is in hell:<br />And here I ride about my fortuning,<br />To wot if +folk will give me anything.<br />To that sole end ride I, and ridest +thou;<br />And, without pulling rein, will I ride now<br />To the world’s +end, ere I will lose a prey.”</p> +<p> “God bless me,” quoth the Sumner, “what +d’ye say?<br />I thought ye were a yeoman verily.<br />Ye have +a man’s shape, sir, as well as I.<br />Have ye a shape then, pray, +determinate<br />In hell, good sir, where ye have your estate?”</p> +<p> “Nay, certainly,” quoth he, “there +have we none;<br />But whoso liketh it, he taketh one;<br />And so we +make folk think us what we please.<br />Sometimes we go like apes, sometimes +like bees,<br />Like man, or angel, black dog, or black crow:-<br />Nor +is it wondrous that it should be so.<br />A sorry juggler can bewilder +thee;<br />And ’faith, I think I know more craft than he.”</p> +<p> “But why,” inquired the Sumner, “must +ye don<br />So many shapes, when ye might stick to one?”<br /> “We +suit the bait unto the fish,” quoth he.<br />“And why,” +quoth t’other, “all this slavery?”<br /> “For +many a cause, Sir Sumner,” quoth the fiend;<br />“But time +is brief - the day will have an end;<br />And here jog I, with nothing +for my ride;<br />Catch we our fox, and let this theme abide:<br />For, +brother mine, thy wit it is too small<br />To understand me, though +I told thee all;<br />And yet, as toucheth that same slavery,<br />A +devil must do God’s work, ’twixt you and me;<br />For without +Him, albeit to our loathing,<br />Strong as we go, we devils can do +nothing;<br />Though to our prayers, sometimes, He giveth leave<br />Only +the body, not the soul, to grieve.<br />Witness good Job, whom nothing +could make wrath;<br />And sometimes have we power to harass both;<br />And, +then again, soul only is possest,<br />And body free; and all is for +the best.<br />Full many a sinner would have no salvation,<br />Gat +it he not by standing our temptation:<br />Though God He knows, ’twas +far from our intent<br />To save the man:- his howl was what we meant.<br />Nay, +sometimes we be servants to our foes:<br />Witness the saint that pulled +my master’s nose;<br />And to the apostle servant eke was I.”<br /> “Yet +tell me,” quoth this Sumner, “faithfully,<br />Are the new +shapes ye take for your intents<br />Fresh every time, and wrought of +elements?”<br /> “Nay,” quoth the fiend, +“sometimes they be disguises;<br />And sometimes in a corpse a +devil rises,<br />And speaks as sensibly, and fair, and well,<br />As +did the Pythoness to Samuel:<br />And yet will some men say, it was +not he!<br />Lord help, say I, this world’s divinity.<br />Of +one thing make thee sure; that thou shalt know,<br />Before we part, +the shapes we wear below.<br />Thou shalt - I jest thee not - the Lord +forbid!<br />Thou shalt know more than ever Virgil did,<br />Or Dante’s +self. So let us on, sweet brother,<br />And stick, like right +warm souls, to one another:<br />I’ll never quit thee, till thou +quittest me.”</p> +<p> “Nay,” quoth the Sumner, “that can +never be;<br />I am a man well known, respectable;<br />And though thou +wert the very lord of hell,<br />Hold thee I should as mine own plighted +brother:<br />Doubt not we’ll stick right fast, each to the other:<br />And, +as we think alike, so will we thrive:<br />We twain will be the merriest +devils alive.<br />Take thou what’s given; for that’s thy +mode, God wot;<br />And I will take, whether ’tis given or not.<br />And +if that either winneth more than t’other,<br />Let him be true, +and share it with his brother.”</p> +<p> “Done,” quoth the fiend, whose eyes in secret +glowed;<br />And with that word they pricked along the road:<br />And +soon it fell, that entering the town’s end,<br />To which this +Sumner shaped him for to wend,<br />They saw a cart that loaded was +with hay,<br />The which a carter drove forth on his way.<br />Deep +was the mire, and sudden the cart stuck:<br />The carter, like a madman, +smote and struck,<br />And cried, “Heit, Scot; heit, Brock! +What! is’t the stones?<br />The devil clean fetch ye both, body +and bones:<br />Must I do nought but bawl and swinge all day?<br />Devil +take the whole - horse, harness, cart, and hay.”</p> +<p> The Sumner whispered to the fiend, “I’ faith,<br />We +have it here. Hear’st thou not what he saith?<br />Take +it anon, for he hath given it thee,<br />Live stock and dead, hay, cart, +and horses three!”</p> +<p> “Nay,” quoth the fiend, “not so; - +the deuce a bit.<br />He sayeth; but, alas! not meaneth it:<br />Ask +him thyself, if thou believ’st not me;<br />Or else be still awhile, +and thou shalt see.”</p> +<p> Thwacketh the man his horses on the croup,<br />And they +begin to draw now, and to stoop.<br />“<i>Heit</i> there,” +quoth he; “<i>heit, heit</i>; ah, <i>matthywo</i>.<br />Lord love +their hearts! how prettily they go!<br />That was well twitched, methinks, +mine own grey boy:<br />I pray God save thy body, and Saint Eloy.<br />Now +is my cart out of the slough, <i>pardie</i>.”</p> +<p> “There,” quoth the fiend unto the Sumner; +“see,<br />I told thee how ’twould fall. Thou seest, +dear brother,<br />The churl spoke one thing, but he thought another.<br />Let +us prick on, for we take nothing here.”</p> +<p> And when from out the town they had got clear,<br />The +Sumner said, “Here dwelleth an old witch,<br />That had as lief +be tumbled in a ditch<br />And break her neck, as part with an old penny.<br />Nathless +her twelve pence is as good as any,<br />And I will have it, though +she lose her wits;<br />Or else I’ll cite her with a score of +writs:<br />And yet, God wot, I know of her no vice.<br />So learn of +me, Sir Fiend: thou art too nice.”</p> +<p> The Sumner clappeth at the widow’s gate.<br />“Come +out,” he saith, “thou hag, thou quiver-pate:<br />I trow +thou hast some friar or priest with thee.”<br /> “Who +clappeth?” said this wife; “ah, what say ye?<br />God save +ye, masters: what is your sweet will?”<br /> “I +have,” said he, “of summons here a bill:<br />Take care, +on pain of cursing, that thou be<br />To-morrow morn, before the Archdeacon’s +knee,<br />To answer to the court of certain things.”</p> +<p> “Now, Lord,” quoth she, “sweet Jesu, +King of kings,<br />So help me, as I cannot, sirs, nor may:<br />I have +been sick, and that full many a day.<br />I may not walk such distance, +nay, nor ride,<br />But I be dead, so pricketh it my side.<br />La! +how I cough and quiver when I stir! -<br />May I not ask some worthy +officer<br />To speak for me, to what the bill may say?”</p> +<p> “Yea, certainly,” this Sumner said, “ye +may,<br />On paying - let me see - twelve pence anon.<br />Small profit +cometh to myself thereon:<br />My master hath the profit, and not I.<br />Come +- twelve pence, mother - count it speedily,<br />And let me ride: I +may no longer tarry.”</p> +<p> “Twelve pence!” quoth she; “now may +the sweet Saint Mary<br />So wisely help me out of care and sin,<br />As +in this wide world, though I sold my skin,<br />I could not scrape up +twelve pence, for my life.<br />Ye know too well I am a poor old wife:<br />Give +alms, for the Lord’s sake, to me, poor wretch.”</p> +<p> “Nay, if I quit thee then,” quoth he, “devil +fetch<br />Myself, although thou starve for it, and rot.”<br /> “Alas!” +quoth she, “the pence I have ’em not.”<br />“Pay +me,” quoth he, “or by the sweet Saint Anne,<br />I’ll +bear away thy staff and thy new pan<br />For the old debt thou ow’st +me for that fee,<br />Which out of pocket I discharged for thee,<br />When +thou didst make thy husband an old stag.”<br /> “Thou +liest,” quoth she; “so leave me never a rag,<br />As I was +never yet, widow nor wife,<br />Summonsed before your court in all my +life,<br />Nor never of my body was untrue.<br />Unto the devil, rough +and black of hue,<br />Give I thy body, and the pan to boot.”</p> +<p> And when this devil heard her give the brute<br />Thus +in his charge, he stooped into her ear,<br />And said, “Now, Mabily, +my mother dear,<br />Is this your will in earnest that ye say?”<br /> “The +devil,” quoth she, “so fetch him cleanaway,<br />Soul, pan, +and all, unless that he repent.”<br /> “Repent!” +the Sumner cried; “pay up your rent,<br />Old fool; and don’t +stand preaching here to me.<br />I would I had thy whole inventory,<br />The +smock from off thy back, and every cloth.”</p> +<p> “Now, brother,” quoth the devil, “be +not wroth;<br />Thy body and this pan be mine by right,<br />And thou +shalt straight to hell with me to-night,<br />Where thou shalt know +what sort of folk we be,<br />Better than Oxford university.”</p> +<p> And with that word the fiend him swept below,<br />Body +and soul. He went where Sumners go.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAUCER’S REVE’S TALE<br />MODERNISED BY R. H. HORNE.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><i>THE REVE’S PROLOGUE.</i></p> +<p>When all had laughed at this right foolish case<br />Of Absalom and +credulous Nicholas, + <a name="citation49"></a><a href="#footnote49">{49}</a><br />Diverse +folk diversely their comments made.<br />But, for the most part, they +all laughed and played,<br />Nor at this tale did any man much grieve,<br />Unless +indeed ’twas Oswald, our good Reve.<br />Because that he was of +the carpenter craft,<br />In his heart still a little ire is left.<br />He +gan to grudge it somewhat, as scarce right;<br />“So aid me!” +quoth he; “I could such requite<br />By throwing dust in a proud +millers eye,<br />If that I chose to speak of ribaldry.<br />But I am +old; I cannot play for age;<br />Grass-time is done - my fodder is now +forage;<br />This white top sadly writeth mine old years;<br />Mine +heart is also mouldy’d as mine hairs:<br />And since I fare as +doth the medlar tree,<br />That fruit which time grows ever the worse +to be<br />Till it be rotten in rubbish and in straw.</p> +<p> “We old men, as I fear, the same lot draw;<br />Till +we be rotten can we not be ripe.<br />We ever hop while that the world +will pipe;<br />For in our will there sticketh ever a nail,<br />To +have a hoary head and a green tail,<br />As hath a leek; for though +our strength be lame,<br />Our will desireth folly ever the same;<br />For +when our climbing’s done, our words aspire;<br />Still in our +ashes old is reeking fire. <a name="citation50"></a><a href="#footnote50">{50}</a></p> +<p> “Four hot coals have we, which I will express:<br />Boasting, +lying, anger, and covetousness.<br />These burning coals are common +unto age,<br />Our old limbs well may stumble o’er the stage,<br />But +will shall never fail us, that is sooth.<br />Still in my head was always +a colt’s tooth,<br />As many a year as now is passed and done,<br />Since +that my tap of life began to run.<br />For certainly when I was born, +I trow,<br />Death drew the tap of life, and let it flow;<br />And ever +since the tap so fast hath run,<br />That well-nigh empty now is all +the tun.<br />The stream of life but drips from time to time;<br />The +silly tongue may well ring out and chime<br />Of wretchedness, that +passéd is of yore:<br />With aged folk, save dotage, there’s +nought more.”</p> +<p> When that our Host had heard this sermoning,<br />He +gan to speak as lordly as a king;<br />And said, “Why, what amounteth +all this wit?<br />What! shall we speak all day of Holy Writ?<br />The +devil can make a steward fit to preach,<br />Or of a cobbler a sailor, +or a leech.<br />Say forth thy tale; and tarry not the time.<br />Lo +Deptford! and the hour is half-way prime:<br />Lo Greenwich! there where +many a shrew loves sin -<br />It were high time thy story to begin.”</p> +<p> “Now, fair sirs,” quoth this Oswald, the +old Reve,<br />“I pray you all that you yourselves ne’er +grieve,<br />Though my reply should somewhat fret his nose;<br />For +lawful ’tis with force, force to oppose.<br />This drunken Miller +hath informed us here<br />How that some folks beguiled a carpenter +-<br />Perhaps in scorn that I of yore was one.<br />So, by your leave, +him I’ll requite anon.<br />In his own churlish language will +I speak,<br />And pray to Heaven besides his neck may break.<br />A +small stalk in mine eye he sees, I deem,<br />But in his own he cannot +see a beam.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>THE REVE’S TALE</i>.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>At Trumpington, near Cambridge, if you look,<br />There goeth a bridge, +and under that a brook,<br />Upon which brook there stood a flour-mill;<br />And +this is a known fact that now I tell.<br />A Miller there had dwelt +for many a day;<br />As any peacock he was proud and gay.<br />He could +pipe well, and fish, mend nets, to boot,<br />Turn cups with a lathe, +and wrestle well, and shoot.<br />A Norman dirk, as brown as is a spade,<br />Hung +by his belt, and eke a trenchant blade.<br />A jolly dagger bare he +in his pouch:<br />There was no man, for peril, durst him touch.<br />A +Sheffield clasp-knife lay within his hose.<br />Round was his face, +and broad and flat his nose.<br />High and retreating was his bald ape’s +skull:<br />He swaggered when the market-place was full.<br />There +durst no wight a hand lift to resent it,<br />But soon, this Miller +swore, he should repent it.</p> +<p> A thief he was, forsooth, of corn and meal,<br />A sly +one, too, and used long since to steal.<br />Disdainful Simkin was he +called by name.<br />A wife he had; of noble kin she came:<br />The +rector of the town her father was.<br />With her he gave full many a +pan of brass,<br />That Simkin with his blood should thus ally.<br />She +had been brought up in a nunnery;<br />For Simkin ne’er would +take a wife, he said,<br />Unless she were well tutored and a maid,<br />To +carry on his line of yeomanry:<br />And she was proud and pert as is +a pie.<br />It was a pleasant thing to see these two:<br />On holidays +before her he would go,<br />With his large tippet bound about his head;<br />While +she came after in a gown of red,<br />And Simkin wore his long hose +of the same.<br />There durst no wight address her but as dame:<br />None +was so bold that passed along the way<br />Who with her durst once toy +or jesting play,<br />Unless he wished the sudden loss of life<br />Before +Disdainful Simkin’s sword or knife.<br />(For jealous folk most +fierce and perilous grow;<br />And this they always wish their wives +to know.)<br />But since that to broad jokes she’d no dislike<br />She +was as pure as water in a dyke,<br />And with abuse all filled and froward +air.<br />She thought that ladies should her temper bear,<br />Both +for her kindred and the lessons high<br />That had been taught her in +the nunnery.</p> +<p> These two a fair and buxom daughter had,<br />Of twenty +years; no more since they were wed,<br />Saving a child, that was but +six months old;<br />A little boy in cradle rocked and rolled.<br />This +daughter was a stout and well-grown lass,<br />With broad flat nose, +and eyes as grey as glass.<br />Broad were her hips; her bosom round +and high;<br />But right fair was she here - I will not lie.</p> +<p> The rector of the town, as she was fair,<br />A purpose +had to make her his sole heir,<br />Both of his cattle and his tenement;<br />But +only if she married as he meant.<br />It was his purpose to bestow her +high,<br />Into some worthy blood of ancestry:<br />For holy Church’s +good must be expended<br />On holy Church’s blood that is descended;<br />Therefore +he would his holy Church honour,<br />Although that holy Church he should +devour.</p> +<p> Great toll and fee had Simkin, out of doubt,<br />With +wheat and malt, of all the land about,<br />And in especial was the +Soler Hall -<br />A college great at Cambridge thus they call -<br />Which +at this mill both wheat and malt had ground.<br />And on a day it suddenly +was found,<br />Sick lay the Manciple of a malady;<br />And men for +certain thought that he must die.<br />Whereon this Miller both of corn +and meal<br />An hundred times more than before did steal;<br />For, +ere this chance, he stole but courteously,<br />But now he was a thief +outrageously.<br />The Warden scolded with an angry air;<br />But this +the Miller rated not a tare:<br />He sang high bass, and swore it was +not so!</p> +<p> There were two scholars young, and poor, I trow,<br />That +dwelt within the Hall of which I say.<br />Headstrong they were and +lusty for to play;<br />And merely for their mirth and revelry,<br />Out +to the Warden eagerly they cry,<br />That be should let them, for a +merry round,<br />Go to the mill and see their own corn ground,<br />And +each would fair and boldly lay his neck<br />The Miller should not steal +them half a peck<br />Of corn by sleight, nor by main force bereave.</p> +<p> And at the last the Warden gave them leave:<br />One +was called John, and Allen named the other;<br />From the same town +they came, which was called Strauther,<br />Far in the North - I cannot +tell you where.</p> +<p> This Allen maketh ready all his gear,<br />And on a horse +the sack he cast anon:<br />Forth go these merry clerks, Allen and John,<br />With +good sword and with buckler by their side.<br />John knew the way, and +needed not a guide;<br />And at the mill the sack adown he layeth.</p> +<p> Allen spake first:- “Simon, all hail! in faith,<br />How +fares thy daughter, and thy worthy wife?”<br /> “Allen,” +quoth Simkin, “welcome, by my life;<br />And also John:- how now! +what do ye here?”<br /> “Simon,” quoth +John, “compulsion has no peer.<br />They who’ve nae lackeys +must themselves bestir,<br />Or else they are but fools, as clerks aver.<br />Our +Manciple, I think, will soon be dead,<br />Sae slowly work the grinders +in his head;<br />And therefore am I come with Allen thus,<br />To grind +our corn, and carry it hame with us:<br />I pray you speed us, that +we may be gone.”</p> +<p> Quoth Simkin, “By my faith it shall be done;<br />What +will ye do while that it is in hand?”<br /> “Gude’s +life! right by the hopper will I stand,”<br />(Quoth John), “and +see how that the corn goes in.<br />I never yet saw, by my father’s +kin,<br />How that the hopper waggles to and fro.”</p> +<p> Allen continued, - “John, and wilt thou so?<br />Then +will I be beneath it, by my crown,<br />And see how that the meal comes +running down<br />Into the trough - and that shall be my sport.<br />For, +John, like you, I’m of the curious sort;<br />And quite as bad +a miller - so let’s see!”</p> +<p> This Miller smiled at their ’cute nicety,<br />And +thought, - all this is done but for a wile;<br />They fancy that no +man can them beguile:<br />But, by my thrift, I’ll dust their +searching eye,<br />For all the sleights in their philosophy.<br />The +more quaint knacks and guarded plans they make,<br />The more corn will +I steal when once I take:<br />Instead of flour, I’ll leave them +nought but bran:<br />The greatest clerks are not the wisest men.<br />As +whilom to the wolf thus spake the mare:<br />Of all their art I do not +count a tare.</p> +<p> Out at the door he goeth full privily,<br />When that +he saw his time, and noiselessly:<br />He looketh up and down, till +he hath found<br />The clerks’ bay horse, where he was standing +bound<br />Under an ivy wall, behind the mill:<br />And to the horse +he goeth him fair and well,<br />And strippeth off the bridle in a trice.</p> +<p> And when the horse was loose he ’gan to race<br />Unto +the wild mares wandering in the fen,<br />With <i>wehee! whinny</i>! +right through thick and thin!<br />This Miller then returned; no word +he said,<br />But doth his work, and with these clerks he played,<br />Till +that their corn was well and fairly ground.<br />And when the meal is +sacked and safely bound<br />John goeth out, and found his horse was +gone,<br />And cried aloud with many a stamp and groan,<br />“Our +horse is lost! Allen, ’od’s banes! I say,<br />Up +on thy feet! - come off, man - up, away!<br />Alas! our Warden’s +palfrey, it is gone!”</p> +<p> Allen at once forgot both meal and corn -<br />Out of +his mind went all his husbandry -<br />“What! whilk way is he +gone?” he ’gan to cry.</p> +<p> The Miller’s wife came laughing inwardly,<br />“Alas!” +said she, “your horse i’ the fens doth fly<br />After wild +mares as fast as he can go!<br />Ill-luck betide the man that bound +him so,<br />And his that better should have knit the rein.”</p> +<p> “Alas!” quoth John, “good Allen, haste +amain;<br />Lay down thy sword, as I will mine also;<br />Heaven knoweth +I am as nimble as a roe;<br />He shall not ’scape us baith, or +my saul’s dead!<br />Why didst not put the horse within the shed?<br />By +the mass, Allen, thou’rt a fool, I say!”</p> +<p> Those silly clerks have scampered fast away<br />Unto +the fen; Allen and nimble John:<br />And when the Miller saw that they +were gone,<br />He half a bushel of their flour doth take,<br />And +bade his wife go knead it in a cake.<br />He said, “I trow these +clerks feared what they’ve found;<br />Yet can a miller turn a +scholar round<br />For all his art. Yea, let them go their way!<br />See +where they run! yea, let the children play:<br />They get him not so +lightly, by my crown.”</p> +<p> The simple clerks go running up and down,<br />With “Soft, +soft! - stand, stand! - hither! - back ! take care!<br />Now whistle +thou, and I shall keep him here!”<br />But, to be brief, until +the very night<br />They could not, though they tried with all their +might,<br />The palfrey catch; he always ran so fast:<br />Till in a +ditch they caught him at the last.</p> +<p> Weary and wet as beasts amid the rain,<br />Allen and +John come slowly back again.<br />“Alas,” quoth John, “that +ever I was born!<br />Now are we turned into contempt and scorn.<br />Our +corn is stolen; fools they will us call;<br />The Warden, and our college +fellows all,<br />And ’specially the Miller - ’las the day!”</p> +<p> Thus plaineth John while going by the way<br />Toward +the mill, the bay nag in his hand.<br />The Miller sitting by the fire +they found,<br />For it was night: no further could they move;<br />But +they besought him, for Heaven’s holy love,<br />Lodgment and food +to give them for their penny.</p> +<p> And Simkin answered, “If that there be any,<br />Such +as it is, yet shall ye have your part.<br />My house is small, but ye +have learnéd art;<br />Ye can, by arguments, well make a place<br />A +mile broad, out of twenty foot of space!<br />Let’s see now if +this place, as ’tis, suffice;<br />Or make more room with speech, +as is your guise.”<br /> “Now, Simon, by Saint +Cuthbert,” said this John,<br />“Thou’rt ever merry, +and that’s answered soon.<br />I’ve heard that man must +needs choose o’ twa things;<br />Such as he finds, or else such +as he brings.<br />But specially I pray thee, mine host dear,<br />Let +us have meat and drink, and make us cheer,<br />And we shall pay you +to the full, be sure:<br />With empty hand men may na’ hawks allure.<br />Lo! +here’s our siller ready to be spent!”</p> +<p> The Miller to the town his daughter sent<br />For ale +and bread, and roasted them a goose;<br />And bound their horse; he +should no more get loose;<br />And in his own room made for them a bed,<br />With +blankets, sheets, and coverlet well spread:<br />Not twelve feet from +his own bed did it stand.<br />His daughter, by herself, as it was planned,<br />In +a small passage closet, slept close by:<br />It might no better be, +for reasons why, -<br />There was no wider chamber in the place.<br />They +sup, and jest, and show a merry face,<br />And drink of ale, the strongest +and the best.<br />It was just midnight when they went to rest.</p> +<p> Well hath this Simkin varnished his hot head;<br />Full +pale he was with drinking, and nought red.<br />He hiccougheth, and +speaketh through the nose,<br />As with the worst of colds, or quinsy’s +throes.<br />To bed he goeth, and with him trips his wife;<br />Light +as a jay, and jolly seemed her life,<br />So was her jolly whistle well +ywet.<br />The cradle at her bed’s foot close she set<br />To +rock, or nurse the infant in the night.<br />And when the jug of ale +was emptied quite,<br />To bed, likewise, the daughter went anon:<br />To +bed goes Allen; with him also John.<br />All’s said: they need +no drugs from poppies pale,<br />This Miller hath so wisely bibbed of +ale;<br />But as an horse he snorteth in his sleep,<br />And blurteth +secrets which awake he’d keep.<br />His wife a burden bare him, +and full strong:<br />Men might their routing hear a good furlóng.<br />The +daughter routeth else, <i>par compagnie.</i></p> +<p> Allen, the clerk, that heard this melody,<br />Now poketh +John, and said, “Why sleepest thou?<br />Heardest thou ever sic +a song ere now?<br />Lo, what a serenade’s among them all!<br />A +wild-fire red upon their bodies fall!<br />Wha ever listened to sae +strange a thing?<br />The flower of evil shall their ending bring.<br />This +whole night there to me betides no rest.<br />But, courage yet, all +shall be for the best;<br />For, John,” said he, “as I may +ever thrive,<br />To pipe a merrier serenade I’ll strive<br />In +the dark passage somewhere near to us;<br />For, John, there is a law +which sayeth thus, -<br />That if a man in one point be aggrieved,<br />Right +in another he shall be relieved:<br />Our corn is stolen - sad yet sooth +to say -<br />And we have had an evil bout to-day;<br />But since the +Miller no amends will make,<br />Against our loss we should some payment +take.<br />His sonsie daughter will I seek to win,<br />And get our +meal back - de’il reward his sin!<br />By hallow-mass it shall +no otherwise be!”</p> +<p> But John replied, “Allen, well counsel thee:<br />The +Miller is a perilous man,” he said,<br />“And if he wake +and start up from his bed,<br />He may do both of us a villainy.”<br /> “Nay,” +Allen said, “I count him not a flie!”<br />And up he rose, +and crept along the floor<br />Into the passage humming with their snore:<br />As +narrow was it as a drum or tub.<br />And like a beetle doth he grope +and grub,<br />Feeling his way with darkness in his hands,<br />Till +at the passage-end he stooping stands.</p> +<p> John lieth still, and not far off, I trow,<br />And to +himself he maketh ruth and woe.<br />“Alas,” quoth he, “this +is a wicked jape!<br />Now may I say that I am but an ape.<br />Allen +may somewhat quit him for his wrong:<br />Already can I hear his plaint +and song;<br />So shall his ’venture happily be sped,<br />While +like a rubbish-sack I lie in bed;<br />And when this jape is told another +day,<br />I shall be called a fool, or a cokenáy!<br />I will +adventure somewhat, too, in faith:<br />‘Weak heart, worse fortune,’ +as the proverb saith.”</p> +<p> And up he rose at once, and softly went<br />Unto the +cradle, as ’twas his intent,<br />And to his bed’s foot +bare it, with the brat.<br />The wife her routing ceased soon after +that,<br />And woke, and left her bed; for she was pained<br />With +nightmare dreams of skies that madly rained.<br />Eastern astrologers +and clerks, I wis,<br />In time of Apis tell of storms like this.<br />Awhile +she stayed, and waxeth calm in mind;<br />Returning then, no cradle +doth she find,<br />And gropeth here and there - but she found none.<br />“Alas,” +quoth she, “I had almost misgone!<br />I well-nigh stumbled on +the clerks a-bed:<br /><i>Eh benedicite</i>! but I am safely sped.<br />And +on she went, till she the cradle found,<br />While through the dark +still groping with her hand.</p> +<p> Meantime was heard the beating of a wing,<br />And then +the third cock of the morn ’gan sing.<br />Allen stole back, and +thought, “Ere that it dawn<br />I will creep in by John that lieth +forlorn.”<br />He found the cradle in his hand, anon.<br />“Gude +Lord!” thought Allen, “all wrong have I gone!<br />My head +is dizzy with the ale last night,<br />And eke my piping, that I go +not right.<br />Wrong am I, by the cradle well I know:<br />Here lieth +Simkin, and his wife alsó.”<br />And, scrambling forthright +on, he made his way<br />Unto the bed where Simkin snoring lay!<br />He +thought to nestle by his fellow John,<br />And by the Miller in he crept, +anon,<br />And caught him by the neck, and ’gan to shake,<br />And +said, “Thou John! thou swine’s head dull, awake!<br />Wake, +by the mass! and hear a noble game,<br />For, by St. Andrew! to thy +ruth and shame,<br />I have been trolling roundelays this night,<br />And +won the Miller’s daughter’s heart outright,<br />Who hath +me told where hidden is our meal:<br />All this - and more - and how +they always steal;<br />While thou hast as a coward lain aghast!”</p> +<p> “Thou slanderous ribald!” quoth the Miller, +“hast?<br />A traitor false, false lying clerk!” quoth he,<br />“Thou +shalt be slain by heaven’s dignity,<br />Who rudely dar’st +disparage with foul lie<br />My daughter that is come of lineage high!”<br />And +by the throat he Allen grasped amain;<br />And caught him, yet more +furiously, again,<br />And on his nose he smote him with his fist!<br />Down +ran the bloody stream upon his breast,<br />And on the floor they tumble, +heel and crown,<br />And shake the house - it seemed all coming down.<br />And +up they rise, and down again they roll;<br />Till that the Miller, stumbling +o’er a coal,<br />Went plunging headlong like a bull at bait,<br />And +met his wife, and both fell flat as slate.<br />“Help, holy cross +of Bromeholm!” loud she cried,<br />“And all ye martyrs, +fight upon my side!<br /><i>In manus tuas</i> - help! - on thee I call!<br />Simon, +awake! the fiend on me doth fall:<br />He crusheth me - help! - I am +well-nigh dead:<br />He lieth along my heart, and heels, and head.<br />Help, +Simkin! for the false clerks rage and fight!”</p> +<p> Now sprang up John as fast as ever he might,<br />And +graspeth by the dark walls to and fro<br />To find a staff: the wife +starts up alsó.<br />She knew the place far better than this +John,<br />And by the wall she caught a staff anon.<br />She saw a little +shimmering of a light,<br />For at an hole in shone the moon all bright,<br />And +by that gleam she saw the struggling two,<br />But knew not, as for +certain, who was who,<br />Save that she saw a white thing in her eye.<br />And +when that she this white thing ’gan espy,<br />She thought that +Allen did a nightcap wear,<br />And with the staff she drew near, and +more near,<br />And, thinking ’twas the clerk, she smote at full<br />Disdainful +Simkin on his bald ape’s skull.<br />Down goes the Miller, crying, +“Harow, I die!”<br />These clerks they beat him well, and +let him lie.<br />They make them ready, and take their horse anon,<br />And +eke their meal, and on their way are gone;<br />And from behind the +mill-door took their cake,<br />Of half a bushel of flour - a right +good bake.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAUCER’S POEM OF THE CUCKOO AND THE NIGHTINGALE<br />MODERNISED +BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>1.<br />The God of Love - <i>ah, benedicite!<br /></i>How mighty +and how great a Lord is he!<br />For he of low hearts can make high, +of high<br />He can make low, and unto death bring nigh;<br />And hard +hearts he can make them kind and free.</p> +<p>2.<br />Within a little time, as hath been found,<br />He can make +sick folk whole and fresh and sound;<br />Them who are whole in body +and in mind<br />He can make sick, - bind can he and unbind<br />All +that he will have bound, or have unbound.</p> +<p>3.<br />To tell his might my wit may not suffice;<br />Foolish men +he can make them out of wise; -<br />For he may do all that he will +devise;<br />Loose livers he can make abate their vice,<br />And proud +hearts can make tremble in a trice.</p> +<p>4.<br />In brief, the whole of what he will, he may;<br />Against +him dare not any wight say nay;<br />To humble or afflict whome’er +he will,<br />To gladden or to grieve, he hath like skill;<br />But +most his might he sheds on the eve of May.</p> +<p>5.<br />For every true heart, gentle heart and free,<br />That with +him is, or thinketh so to be,<br />Now against May shall have some stirring +- whether<br />To joy, or be it to some mourning; never<br />At other +time, methinks, in like degree.</p> +<p>6.<br />For now when they may hear the small birds’ song,<br />And +see the budding leaves the branches throng.<br />This unto their remembrance +doth bring<br />All kinds of pleasure mixed with sorrowing,<br />And +longing of sweet thoughts that ever long.</p> +<p>7.<br />And of that longing heaviness doth come,<br />Whence oft +great sickness grows of heart and home;<br />Sick are they all for lack +of their desire;<br />And thus in May their hearts are set on fire,<br />So +that they burn forth in great martyrdom.</p> +<p>8.<br />In sooth, I speak from feeling, what though now<br />Old +am I, and to genial pleasure slow;<br />Yet have I felt of sickness +through the May,<br />Both hot and cold, and heart-aches every day, +-<br />How hard, alas! to bear, I only know.</p> +<p>9.<br />Such shaking doth the fever in me keep,<br />Through all +this May that I have little sleep;<br />And also ’tis not likely +unto me,<br />That any living heart should sleepy be<br />In which love’s +dart its fiery point doth steep.</p> +<p>10.<br />But tossing lately on a sleepless bed,<br />I of a token +thought which lovers heed;<br />How among them it was a common tale,<br />That +it was good to hear the nightingale,<br />Ere the vile cuckoo’s +note be utteréd.</p> +<p>11.<br />And then I thought anon as it was day,<br />I gladly would +go somewhere to essay<br />If I perchance a nightingale might hear,<br />For +yet had I heard none, of all that year,<br />And it was then the third +night of the May.</p> +<p>12.<br />And soon as I a glimpse of day espied,<br />No longer would +I in my bed abide,<br />But straightway to a wood, that was hard by,<br />Forth +did I go, alone and fearlessly,<br />And held the pathway down by a +brook-side;</p> +<p>13.<br />Till to a lawn I came all white and green,<br />I in so +fair a one had never been.<br />The ground was green, with daisy powdered +over;<br />Tall were the flowers, the grove a lofty cover,<br />All +green and white; and nothing else was seen.</p> +<p>14.<br />There sate I down among the fresh fair flowers,<br />And +saw the birds come tripping from their bowers,<br />Where they had rested +them all night; and they,<br />Who were so joyful at the light of day,<br />Began +to honour May with all their powers.</p> +<p>15.<br />Well did they know that service all by rote,<br />And there +was many and many a lovely note;<br />Some singing loud, as if they +had complained;<br />Some with their notes another manner feigned;<br />And +some did sing all out with the full throat.</p> +<p>16.<br />They pruned themselves, and made themselves right gay,<br />Dancing +and leaping light upon the spray;<br />And ever two and two together +were,<br />The same as they had chosen for the year,<br />Upon Saint +Valentine’s returning day.</p> +<p>17.<br />Meanwhile the stream, whose bank I sate upon,<br />Was making +such a noise as it ran on<br />Accordant to the sweet birds’ harmony;<br />Methought +that it was the best melody<br />Which ever to man’s ear a passage +won.</p> +<p>18.<br />And for delight, but how I never wot,<br />I in a slumber +and a swoon was caught,<br />Not all asleep, and yet not waking wholly;<br />And +as I lay, the Cuckoo bird unholy<br />Broke silence, or I heard him +in my thought.</p> +<p>19.<br />And that was right upon a tree fast by,<br />And who was +then ill-satisfied but I?<br />“Now, God,” quoth I, “that +died upon the rood,<br />From thee and thy base throat, keep all that’s +good,<br />Full little joy have I now of thy cry.”</p> +<p>20.<br />And, as I with the Cuckoo thus ’gan chide,<br />In +the next bush that was me fast beside,<br />I heard the lusty Nightingale +so sing,<br />That her clear voice made a loud rioting,<br />Echoing +thorough all the green wood wide.</p> +<p>21.<br />“Ah! good sweet Nightingale! for my heart’s +cheer,<br />Hence hast thou stayed a little while too long;<br />For +we have heard the sorry Cuckoo here,<br />And she hath been before thee +with her song;<br />Evil light on her! she hath done me wrong.”</p> +<p>22.<br />But hear you now a wondrous thing, I pray;<br />As long +as in that swooning fit I lay,<br />Methought I wist right well what +these birds meant,<br />And had good knowing both of their intent,<br />And +of their speech, and all that they would say.</p> +<p>23.<br />The Nightingale thus in my hearing spake:<br />“Good +Cuckoo, seek some other bush or brake<br />And, prithee, let us that +can sing dwell here;<br />For every wight eschews thy song to hear,<br />Such +uncouth singing verily dost thou make.”</p> +<p>24.<br />“What!” quoth she then, “what is’t +that ails thee now?<br />It seems to me I sing as well as thou;<br />For +mine’s a song that is both true and plain, -<br />Although I cannot +quaver so in vain<br />As thou dost in thy throat, I wot not how.</p> +<p>25.<br />“All men may understanding have of me,<br />But, Nightingale, +so may they not of thee;<br />For thou hast many a foolish and quaint +cry:-<br />Thou say’st OSEE, OSEE; then how may I<br />Have knowledge, +I thee pray, what this may be?”</p> +<p>26.<br />“Ah, fool!” quoth she, “wist thou not +what it is?<br />Oft as I say OSEE, OSEE, I wis,<br />Then mean I, that +I should be wondrous fain<br />That shamefully they one and all were +slain,<br />Whoever against Love mean aught amiss.</p> +<p>27.<br />“And also would I that they all were dead<br />Who +do not think in love their life to lead;<br />For who is loth the God +of Love to obey<br />Is only fit to die, I dare well say,<br />And for +that cause OSEE I cry; take heed!”</p> +<p>28.<br />“Ay,” quoth the Cuckoo, “that is a quaint +law,<br />That all must love or die; but I withdraw,<br />And take my +leave of all such company,<br />For mine intent it neither is to die,<br />Nor +ever while I live Love’s yoke to draw.</p> +<p>29.<br />“For lovers of all folk that be alive,<br />The most +disquiet have and least do thrive;<br />Most feeling have of sorrow’s +woe and care,<br />And the least welfare cometh to their share;<br />What +need is there against the truth to strive?”</p> +<p>30.<br />“What!” quoth she, “thou art all out of +thy mind,<br />That in thy churlishness a cause canst find<br />To speak +of Love’s true Servants in this mood;<br />For in this world no +service is so good<br />To every wight that gentle is of kind.</p> +<p>31.<br />“For thereof comes all goodness and all worth;<br />All +gentleness and honour thence come forth;<br />Thence worship comes, +content and true heart’s pleasure,<br />And full-assuréd +trust, joy without measure,<br />And jollity, fresh cheerfulness, and +mirth:</p> +<p>32.<br />“And bounty, lowliness, and courtesy,<br />And seemliness, +and faithful company,<br />And dread of shame that will not do amiss;<br />For +he that faithfully Love’s servant is,<br />Rather than be disgraced, +would choose to die.</p> +<p>33.<br />“And that the very truth it is which I<br />Now say +- in such belief I’ll live and die;<br />And Cuckoo, do thou so, +by my advice.”<br /> “Then,” quoth she, +“let me never hope for bliss,<br />If with that counsel I do e’er +comply.</p> +<p>34.<br />“Good Nightingale! thou speakest wondrous fair,<br />Yet, +for all that, the truth is found elsewhere;<br />For Love in young folk +is but rage, I wis;<br />And Love in old folk a great dotage is;<br />Whom +most it useth, him ’twill most impair.</p> +<p>35.<br />“For thereof come all contraries to gladness;<br />Thence +sickness comes, and overwhelming sadness,<br />Mistrust and jealousy, +despite, debate,<br />Dishonour, shame, envy importunate,<br />Pride, +anger, mischief, poverty and madness.</p> +<p>36.<br />“Loving is aye an office of despair,<br />And one +thing is therein which is not fair;<br />For whoso gets of love a little +bliss,<br />Unless it alway stay with him, I wis<br />He may full soon +go with an old man’s hair.</p> +<p>37.<br />“And, therefore, Nightingale! do thou keep nigh,<br />For +trust me well, in spite of thy quaint cry,<br />If long time from thy +mate thou be, or far,<br />Thou’lt be as others that forsaken +are;<br />Then shalt thou raise a clamour as do I.”</p> +<p>38.<br />“Fie,” quoth she, “on thy name, Bird ill +beseen!<br />The God of Love afflict thee with all teen,<br />For thou +art worse than mad a thousandfold;<br />For many a one hath virtues +manifold<br />Who had been nought, if Love had never been.</p> +<p>39.<br />“For evermore his servants Love amendeth,<br />And +he from every blemish them defendeth;<br />And maketh them to burn, +as in a fire,<br />In loyalty and worshipful desire,<br />And when it +likes him, joy enough them sendeth.”</p> +<p>40.<br />“Thou Nightingale!” the Cuckoo said, “be +still;<br />For Love no reason hath but his own will; -<br />For to +th’ untrue he oft gives ease and joy;<br />True lovers doth so +bitterly annoy,<br />He lets them perish through that grievous ill.</p> +<p>41.<br />“With such a master would I never be,<br />For he, +in sooth, is blind, and may not see,<br />And knows not when he hurts +and when he heals;<br />Within this court full seldom truth avails,<br />So +diverse in his wilfulness is he.”</p> +<p>42.<br />Then of the Nightingale did I take note,<br />How from her +inmost heart a sigh she brought,<br />And said, “Alas! that ever +I was born,<br />Not one word have I now, I am so forlorn,” -<br />And +with that word, she into tears burst out.</p> +<p>43.<br />“Alas, alas! my very heart will break,”<br />Quoth +she, “to hear this churlish bird thus speak<br />Of Love, and +of his holy services;<br />Now, God of Love! thou help me in some wise,<br />That +vengeance on this Cuckoo I may wreak.”</p> +<p>44.<br />And so methought I started up anon,<br />And to the brook +I ran, and got a stone,<br />Which at the Cuckoo hardily I cast,<br />And +he for dread did fly away full fast;<br />And glad, in sooth, was I +when he was gone.</p> +<p>45.<br />And as he flew, the Cuckoo ever and aye<br />Kept crying, +“Farewell! - farewell, popinjay!”<br />As if in scornful +mockery of me;<br />And on I hunted him from tree to tree,<br />Till +he was far, all out of sight, away.</p> +<p>46.<br />Then straightway came the Nightingale to me,<br />And said, +“Forsooth, my friend, do I thank thee,<br />That thou wert near +to rescue me; and now,<br />Unto the God of Love I make a vow,<br />That +all this May I will thy songstress be.”</p> +<p>47.<br />Well satisfied, I thanked her, and she said,<br />“By +this mishap no longer be dismayed,<br />Though thou the Cuckoo heard, +ere thou heard’st me;<br />Yet if I live it shall amended be,<br />When +next May comes, if I am not afraid.</p> +<p>48.<br />“And one thing will I counsel thee alsó,<br />The +Cuckoo trust not thou, nor his Love’s saw;<br />All that she said +is an outrageous lie.”<br /> “Nay, nothing shall +me bring thereto,” quoth I,<br />“For Love, and it hath +done me mighty woe.”</p> +<p>49.<br />“Yea, hath it? Use,” quoth she, “this +medicine,<br />This May-time, every day before thou dine,<br />Go look +on the fresh daisy; then say I,<br />Although for pain thou may’st +be like to die,<br />Thou wilt be eased, and less wilt droop and pine.</p> +<p>50.<br />“And mind always that thou be good and true,<br />And +I will sing one song, of many new,<br />For love of thee, as loud as +I may cry;”<br />And then did she begin this song full high,<br />“Beshrew +all them that are in love untrue.”</p> +<p>51.<br />And soon as she had sung it to the end,<br />“Now +farewell,” quoth she, “for I hence must wend;<br />And, +God of Love, that can right well and may,<br />Send unto thee as mickle +joy this day<br />As ever he to lover yet did send.”</p> +<p>52.<br />Thus takes the Nightingale her leave of me;<br />I pray +to God with her always to be,<br />And joy of love to send her evermore;<br />And +shield us from the Cuckoo and her lore,<br />For there is not so false +a bird as she.</p> +<p>53.<br />Forth then she flew, the gentle Nightingale,<br />To all +the birds that lodged within that dale,<br />And gathered each and all +into one place;<br />And them besought to hear her doleful case,<br />And +thus it was that she began her tale:-</p> +<p>54.<br />“The Cuckoo - ’tis not well that I should hide<br />How +she and I did each the other chide,<br />And without ceasing, since +it was daylight;<br />And now I pray you all to do me right<br />Of +that false Bird whom Love can not abide.”</p> +<p>55.<br />Then spake one Bird, and full assent all gave:<br />“This +matter asketh counsel good as grave,<br />For birds we are - all here +together brought;<br />And, in good sooth, the Cuckoo here is not;<br />And +therefore we a parliament will have.</p> +<p>56.<br />“And thereat shall the Eagle be our Lord,<br />And +other Peers whose names are on record;<br />A summons to the Cuckoo +shall be sent,<br />And judgment there be given; or that intent<br />Failing, +we finally shall make accord.</p> +<p>57.<br />“And all this shall be done, without a nay,<br />The +morrow after Saint Valentine’s day,<br />Under a maple that is +well beseen,<br />Before the chamber-window of the Queen,<br />At Woodstock, +on the meadow green and gay.”</p> +<p>58.<br />She thankéd them; and then her leave she took,<br />And +flew into a hawthorn by that brook;<br />And there she sate and sung +- upon that tree, -<br />“For term of life Love shall have hold +of me!”<br />So loudly, that I with that song awoke.</p> +<p>Unlearned Book and rude, as well I know,<br />For beauty thou hast +none, nor eloquence,<br />Who did on thee the hardiness bestow<br />To +appear before my Lady? but a sense<br />Thou surely hast of her benevolence,<br />Whereof +her hourly bearing proof doth give;<br />For of all good, she is the +best alive.</p> +<p>Alas, poor Book! for thy unworthiness,<br />To show to her some pleasant +meanings writ<br />In winning words, since through her gentleness,<br />Thee +she accepts as for her service fit;<br />Oh! it repents me I have neither +wit<br />Nor leisure unto thee more worth to give;<br />For of all good, +she is the best alive.</p> +<p>Beseech her meekly with all lowliness,<br />Though I be far from +her I reverence,<br />To think upon my truth and steadfastness,<br />And +to abridge my sorrow’s violence,<br />Caused by the wish, as knows +your sapience,<br />She of her liking, proof to me would give;<br />For +of all good, she is the best alive.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><i>L’ENVOY.</i></p> +<p>Pleasure’s Aurora, Day of gladsomeness!<br />Lucerne, by night, +with heavenly influence<br />Illumined! root of beauty and goodness,<br />Write, +and allay, by your beneficence,<br />My sighs breathed forth in silence, +- comfort give!<br />Since of all good, you are the best alive.</p> +<p><i>EXPLICIT.</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>TREASURE TROVE<br />MODERNISED FROM THE FIFTH BOOK OF GOWER’S +“CONFESSIO AMANTIS.”</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>In ancient Chronicle I read:-<br />About a King, as it must need,<br />There +was of Knights and of Squiërs<br />Great rout, and eke of Officers.<br />Some +for a long time him had served,<br />And thought that they had well +deserved<br />Advancement, but had gone without;<br />And some also +were of the Rout<br />That only came the other day<br />And were advanced +without delay.<br />Those Older Men upon this thing,<br />So as they +durst, against the King<br />Among themselves would murmur oft.<br />But +there is nothing said so soft<br />That it shall not come out at last,<br />The +King soon knew what Words had passed.<br />A King he was of high Prudénce,<br />He +shaped therefore an Evidence<br />Of them that plained them in that +case,<br />To know of whose Default it was.<br />And all within his +own intent,<br />That not a man knew what it meant,<br />He caused two +Coffers to be made<br />Alike in Shape, and Size, and Shade,<br />So +like that no man, by their Show,<br />The one may from the other know.<br />They +were into his Chamber brought,<br />But no man knew why they were wrought;<br />Yet +from the King Command hath come<br />That they be set in private Room,<br />For +he was in his Wisdom keen.<br />When he thereto his time had seen,<br />Slily, +away from all the rest,<br />With his own hands he filled one Chest,<br />Full +of fine Gold and Jewelry<br />The which out of his Treasury<br />Was +taken; after that he thrust<br />Into the other Straw and Dust,<br />And +filled it up with Stones also;<br />Full Coffers are they, both the +two.</p> +<p>And early then upon a day<br />He bade within doors where he lay<br />That +there should be before his Bed<br />A Board set up and fairly spread.<br />The +Coffers then he let men get,<br />And on the Board he had them set.<br />Full +well he knew the Names of those<br />Whose Murmurings against him rose,<br />Both +of his Chamber and his Hall,<br />And speedily sent for them all,<br />And +said unto them in this wise:</p> +<p>“There shall no man his Hap despise;<br />I know well that +ye long have served,<br />And God knows what ye have deserved.<br />Whether +it is along of me<br />That ye still unadvancéd be,<br />Or whether +it belong of you,<br />The Sooth is to be provéd now,<br />Wherewith +to stop your Evil Word.<br />Lo here two Coffers on the Board,<br />Of +both the two choose which you will,<br />And know that ye may have your +fill<br />Of Treasure heaped and packed in one,<br />That if ye happen +thereupon<br />Ye shall be made Rich Men for ever.<br />Now choose and +take which you is liever.<br />But be well ware, ere that ye take, -<br />For +of the one I undertake<br />There is no manner good therein<br />Whereof +ye might a Profit win.<br />Now go together of one assent<br />And take +your own Advisément.<br />Whether I you this day advance<br />Stands +only on your Choice and Chance.<br />No question here of Royal Grace,<br />It +shall be showéd in this place<br />Upon you all, and well and +fine,<br />If Fortune fails by Fault of mine.”</p> +<p>They all kneel down, and with one voice<br />They thank the King +for this free Choice;<br />And after this they up arise<br />And go +aside and them advise,<br />And at the last they all accord;<br />Whereof +their Finding to record<br />To what Issue their Voices fall,<br />A +Knight shall answer for them all.</p> +<p>He kneeleth down unto the King<br />And saith, that they upon this +thing<br />Or for to win or for to lose<br />Are all decided how to +choose.<br />Then took this Knight a Rod in hand<br />And goes to where +the Coffers stand,<br />And with the Assent of every one<br />He layeth +his Rod upon one,<br />And tells the King they only want<br />Him that +for their Reward to grant,<br />And pray him that they might it have.<br />The +King, who would his Honour save,<br />When he hath heard the common +Voice,<br />Hath granted them their own free Choice,<br />And gave them +thereupon the Key.<br />But as he would that men might see<br />What +Good they got, as they suppose,<br />He bade anon the Coffer unclose, +-<br />Which was filled full with Straw and Stone;<br />Thus are they +served, the Luck’s their own.</p> +<p>“Lo,” saith the King, “now may ye see<br />That +there is no Default in me;<br />Therefore myself I will acquit,<br />Bear +ye the Blame now, as is fit,<br />For that which Fortune you refused.”<br />Thus +was this wise old King excused,<br />And they left off their evil Speech,<br />And +Mercy of their King beseech.</p> +<p>Touching like matter to the quick,<br />I find a Tale how Frederick,<br />At +that time Emperor of Rome,<br />Heard, as he went, a Clamour come<br />From +two poor Beggars on the way.<br />The one of them began to say,<br />“Ha, +Lord, the man is rich indeed<br />To whom a King’s Wealth brings +his Speed!”<br />The other said, “It is not so,<br />But +he is rich and well-to-do<br />To whom God pleases Wealth to send.”<br />And +thus their Words went without end,<br />Whereto this Lord hath given +ear<br />And caused both Beggars to appear<br />Straight at his Palace, +there to eat;<br />And bade provide them for their Meat<br />Two Pasties +which men were to make,<br />And in the one a Capon bake,<br />And in +the other, Wealth to win,<br />Of Florins all that may within<br />He +bade them put a great Richésse,<br />And just alike, as one may +guess,<br />Outward they were, to Sight of Men.</p> +<p>This Beggar was commanded then,<br />He that had held him to the +King,<br />That he first choose upon this thing.<br />He saw them, but +he felt them not,<br />So that upon his single Thought<br />He chose +the Capon, and forsook<br />That other, which his Fellow took.</p> +<p>But when he wist how that it fared,<br />He said aloud, that men +it heard:<br />“Now have I certainly conceived<br />That he may +lightly be deceived<br />Who puts his trust in Help of Man.<br />He’s +rich whom God helps, for he can<br />Stand ever on the safer side<br />That +else on Vain Hope had relied.<br />I see my Fellow well supplied,<br />And +still a Poor Man I abide.”<br />Thus spake the Beggar his intent,<br />And +poor he came, and poor he went;<br />Of all the Riches that he sought<br />His +evil Fortune gave him nought.</p> +<p>And right as it with those men stood,<br />Of evil Hap in worldly +Good,<br />As thou hast heard me tell above,<br />Right so, full oft, +it stands by Love;<br />Though thou desire it evermore<br />Thou shalt +not have a whit the more,<br />But only what is meant for thee,<br />Of +all the rest not worth a Pea.<br />And yet a long and endless Row<br />There +be of Men who covet so<br />That whereas they a Woman see,<br />To ten +or twelve though there may be,<br />The Love is now so little wise<br />That +where the Beauty takes his Eyes<br />Anon the Man’s whole Heart +is there<br />And whispers Tales into her Ear,<br />And says on her +his Love is set,<br />And thus he sets him to covet.<br />A hundred +though he saw a day,<br />So would he have more than he may;<br />In +each of them he finds somewhat<br />That pleaseth him, or this or that.<br />Some +one, for she is white of skin,<br />Some one, for she is noble of kin,<br />Some +one, for she hath a ruddy cheek,<br />Some one, for that she seemeth +meek,<br />Some one, for that her eyes are gray,<br />Some one, for +she can laugh and play,<br />Some one, for she is long and small,<br />Some +one, for she is lithe and tall,<br />Some one, for she is pale and bleach,<br />Some +one, for she is soft of speech,<br />Some one, for that her nose turns +down,<br />Some one, for that she hath a frown,<br />Some one, for she +can dance and sing;<br />So that of what he likes something<br />He +finds, and though no more he feel<br />But that she hath a little heel,<br />It +is enough that he therefore<br />Her love; and thus an hundred score<br />While +they be new he would he had,<br />Whom he forsakes, she shall be bad.<br />So +the Blind Man no Colour sees,<br />All’s one to take as he may +please;<br />And his Desire is darkly minded<br />Whom Covetise of Love +hath blinded.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>LONDON LICKPENNY<br />BY JOHN LYDGATE.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>To London once my steps I bent,<br /> Where truth in nowise +should be faint;<br />To Westminster-ward I forthwith went,<br /> To +a man of law to make complaint,<br /> I said, “For +Mary’s love, that holy saint,<br /> Pity the poor that +would proceed!”<br /> But for lack of Money I could +not speed.</p> +<p>And as I thrust the press among,<br /> By froward chance +my hood was gone,<br />Yet for all that I stayed not long<br /> Till +to the King’s Bench I was come.<br /> Before the judge +I kneeled anon,<br /> And prayed him for God’s sake +to take heed.<br /> But for lack of Money I might not speed.</p> +<p>Beneath them sat clerks a great rout,<br /> Which fast +did write by one assent,<br />There stood up one and cried about,<br /> “Richard, +Robert, and John of Kent!”<br /> I wist not well what +this man meant,<br /> He cried so thickly there indeed.<br /> But +he that lacked Money might not speed</p> +<p>Unto the Common Pleas I yode tho, + <a name="citation81"></a><a href="#footnote81">{81}</a><br /> Where +sat one with a silken hood;<br />I did him reverence, for I ought to +do so,<br /> And told my case as well as I could,<br /> How +my goods were defrauded me by falsehood.<br /> I got not +a mum of his mouth for my meed,<br /> And for lack of Money +I might not speed.</p> +<p>Unto the Rolls I gat me from thence,<br /> Before the +clerks of the Chancerie,<br />Where many I found earning of pence,<br /> But +none at all once regarded me.<br /> I gave them my plaint +upon my knee;<br /> They liked it well when they had it read,<br /> But +lacking Money I could not be sped.</p> +<p>In Westminster Hall I found out one<br /> Which went in +a long gown of ray, + <a name="citation82a"></a><a href="#footnote82a">{82a}</a><br />I +crouched and kneeled before him anon,<br /> For Mary’s +love of help I him pray.<br /> “I wot not what thou +mean’st,” gan he say;<br /> To get me thence +he did me bede:<br /> For lack of Money I could not speed.</p> +<p>Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor<br /> Would +do for me aught although I should die.<br />Which seeing, I got me out +of the door<br /> Where Flemings began on me for to cry,<br /> “Master, +what will you copen or buy? + <a name="citation82b"></a><a href="#footnote82b">{82b}</a><br /> Fine +felt hats, or spectacles to read?<br /> Lay down your silver, +and here you may speed.”</p> +<p>Then to Westminster Gate I presently went,<br /> When +the sun was at highé prime;<br />Cooks to me they took good intent,<br /> And +proffered me bread with ale and wine,<br /> Ribs of beef, +both fat and full fine;<br /> A fair cloth they gan for to +sprede,<br /> But wanting Money I might not then speed.</p> +<p>Then unto London I did me hie,<br /> Of all the land it +beareth the prize.<br />“Hot peascods!” one began to cry,<br /> “Strawberry +ripe!” and “Cherries in the rise!” <a name="citation82c"></a><a href="#footnote82c">{82c}</a><br /> One +bade me come near and buy some spice,<br /> Pepper and saffron +they gan me bede,<br /> But for lack of Money I might not +speed.</p> +<p>Then to the Cheap I began me drawn,<br /> Where much people +I saw for to stand;<br />One offered me velvet, silk, and lawn,<br /> Another +he taketh me by the hand,<br /> “Here is Paris thread, +the finest in the land!”<br /> I never was used to +such things indeed,<br /> And wanting Money I might not speed.</p> +<p>Then went I forth by London Stone,<br /> Throughout all +Can’wick Street. + <a name="citation83"></a><a href="#footnote83">{83}</a><br />Drapers +much cloth me offered anon;<br /> Then comes me one cried, +“Hot sheep’s feet!”<br /> One cried, “Mackerel!” +“Rushes green!” another gan greet;<br /> One +bade me buy a hood to cover my head,<br /> But for want of +Money I might not be sped,</p> +<p>Then I hied me into East Cheap;<br /> One cries “Ribs +of beef,” and many a pie;<br />Pewter pots they clattered on a +heap,<br /> There was harp, pipe, and minstrelsie.<br /> “Yea, +by cock!” “Nay, by cock!” some began cry;<br /> Some +sung of Jenkin and Julian for their meed,<br /> But for lack +of Money I might not speed.</p> +<p>Then into Cornhill anon I yode,<br /> Where was much stolen +gear among;<br />I saw where hung mine owné hood<br /> That +I had lost among the throng:<br /> To buy my own hood I thought +it wrong;<br /> I knew it well as I did my Creed,<br /> But +for lack of Money I could not speed.</p> +<p>The taverner took me by the sleeve,<br /> “Sir,” +saith he, “will you our wine assay?”<br />I answered, “That +cannot much me grieve,<br /> A penny can do no more than +it may.”<br /> I drank a pint, and for it I did pay.<br /> Yet +soon ahungered from thence I yede,<br /> And wanting Money +I could not speed.</p> +<p>Then hied I me to Billingsgate,<br /> And one cried, “Hoo! +Go we hence!”<br />I prayed a barge man, for God’s sake,<br /> That +he would spare me my expence.<br /> “Thou scrap’st +not here,” quoth he, “under two pence;<br /> I +list not yet bestow any alms deed.”<br /> Thus lacking +Money I could not speed.</p> +<p>Then I conveyed me into Kent;<br /> For of the law would +I meddle no more,<br />Because no man to me took intent,<br /> I +dight me to do as I did before.<br /> Now Jesus, that in +Bethlehem was bore,<br /> Save London, and send true lawyers +their meed!<br /> For whoso wants Money with them shall not +speed.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>BICORN AND CHICHEVACHE<br />BY JOHN LYDGATE.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><i>First there shall stand an image in Poet-wise, saying these verses:-</i></p> +<p>O prudent folkés, taketh heed,<br /> And remembreth +in your lives<br />How this story doth proceed<br /> Of the +husbands and their wives,<br /> Of their áccord and +their strives,<br /> With life or death which to darrain + <a name="citation85a"></a><a href="#footnote85a">{85a}</a><br /> Is +granted to these beastés twain.</p> +<p><i>Then shall be pourtrayed two beasts, one fat; another lean.</i></p> +<p>For this Bicorn of his natúre<br /> Will none other +manner food,<br />But patient husbands his pastúre,<br /> And +Chichevache eat’th the women good;<br /> And both these +beastés, by the Rood,<br /> Be fat or lean, it may +not fail,<br /> Like lack or plenty of their vitail.</p> +<p>Of Chichevache and of Bicorn, + <a name="citation85b"></a><a href="#footnote85b">{85b}</a><br /> Treateth +wholly this matere,<br />Whose story hath taught us beforn<br /> How +these beastés both infere + <a name="citation85c"></a><a href="#footnote85c">{85c}</a><br /> Have +their pastúre, as you shall hear,<br /> Of men and +women in senténce<br /> Through suffrance or through +impatiénce.</p> +<p><i>Then shall be pourtrayed a fat beast called Bicorn, of the country +of Bicornis, and say these three verses following:-</i></p> +<p>“Of Bicornis I am Bicorn,<br /> Full fat and round +here as I stand,<br />And in marriage bound and sworn<br /> To +Chichevache as her husbánd,<br /> Which will not eat +on sea nor land<br /> But patient wivés debonair,<br /> Which +to their husbands be n’t contraire</p> +<p>“Full scarce, God wot, is her vitail,<br /> Humble +wives she finds so few,<br />For always at the contre tail<br /> Their +tongúe clappeth and doth hew.<br /> Such meeké +wivés I beshrew,<br /> That neither can at bed ne +board<br /> Their husbands not forbear one word.</p> +<p>“But my food and my cherishing,<br /> To tell plainly +and not to vary,<br />Is of such folks which, their living,<br /> Dare +to their wives be not contrary,<br /> Ne from their lustés +dare not vary,<br /> Nor with them hold no champarty, + <a name="citation86a"></a><a href="#footnote86a">{86a}</a><br /> All +such my stomach will defy.” + <a name="citation86b"></a><a href="#footnote86b">{86b}</a></p> +<p><i>Then shall be pourtrayed a company of men coming towards this +beast Bicornis, and say these four ballads:-</i></p> +<p>“Fellows, take heed and ye may see<br /> How Bicorn +casteth him to devour<br />All humble men, both you and me,<br /> There +is no gain may us succóur;<br /> Wo be therefore in +hall and bower<br /> To all those husbands which, their lives,<br /> Make +mistrésses of their wives.</p> +<p>“Who that so doth, this is the law,<br /> That this +Bicorn will him oppress<br />And devouren in his maw<br /> That +of his wife makes his mistréss;<br /> This will us +bring in great distress,<br /> For we, for our humility,<br /> Of +Bicorn shall devouréd be.</p> +<p>“We standen plainly in such case,<br /> For they +to us mistrésses be;<br />We may well sing and say, ‘Alas,<br /> That +we gave them the sovereigntie!<br /> For we ben thrall and +they be free.<br /> Wherefore Bicorn, this cruel beast,<br /> Will +us devouren at the least.</p> +<p>“But who that can be sovereign,<br /> And his wife +teach and chastise,<br />That she dare not a word gainsain<br /> Nor +disobey in no manner wise,<br /> Of such a man I can devise<br /> He +stands under protectión<br /> From Bicornis jurisdictión.”</p> +<p><i>Then shall there be a woman devoured in the mouth of Chichevache, +crying to all wives, and say this verse:-</i></p> +<p>“O noble wivés, be well ware,<br /> Take +example now by me;<br />Or else affirmé well I dare<br /> Ye +shall be dead, ye shall not flee;<br /> Be crabbéd, +void humilitie,<br /> Or Chichevache ne will not fail<br /> You +for to swallow in his entrail.”</p> +<p><i>Then shall there be pourtrayed a long-horned beast, slender and +lean, with sharp teeth, and on her body nothing but skin and bone.</i></p> +<p>“Chichevache, this is my name,<br /> Hungry, meagre, +slender, and lean,<br />To show my body I have great shame,<br /> For +hunger I feel so great teen; <a name="citation88c"></a><a href="#footnote88c">{88c}</a><br /> On +me no fatness will be seen,<br /> Because that pasture I +find none,<br /> Therefore I am but skin and bone.</p> +<p>“For my feedíng in existénce<br /> Is +of women that be meek,<br />And like Grisield in patiénce<br /> Or +more their bounty for to eke;<br /> But I full long may go +and seek<br /> Ere I can find a good repast,<br /> A +morrow to break with my fast.</p> +<p>“I trow there be a dear year<br /> Of patient women +now-a-days.<br />Who grieveth them with word or cheer<br /> Let +him beware of such assays;<br /> For it is more than thirty +Mays<br /> That I have sought from lond to lond,<br /> But +yet one Grisield ne’er I fond.</p> +<p>“I found but one in all my live,<br /> And she was +dead ago full yore;<br />For more pastúre I will not strive<br /> Nor +seeké for my food no more.<br /> Ne for vitail me +to restore;<br /> Women ben woxen so prudént + <a name="citation88a"></a><a href="#footnote88a">{88a}</a><br /> They +will no more be patient.”</p> +<p><i>Then shall be pourtrayed, after Chichevache, an old man with a +baton on his back, menacing the beast for devouring of his wife.</i></p> +<p>“My wife, alas, devouréd is,<br /> Most patiént +and most pesíble!<br />She never said to me amiss,<br /> Whom +now hath slain this beast horrible!<br /> And for it is an +impossible<br /> To find again e’er such a wife<br /> I +will live solé all my life.</p> +<p>“For now of newé, for their prow, + <a name="citation88b"></a><a href="#footnote88b">{88b}</a><br /> The +wivés of full high prudénce<br />Have of assent made their +avow<br /> T’ exile for ever patiénce,<br /> And +cried wolfs-head obedience,<br /> To maké Chichevaché +fail<br /> Of them to findé more vitail.</p> +<p>Now Chichevaché may fast long<br /> And die for +all her cruelty,<br />Women have made themselves so strong<br /> For +to outrage humility.<br /> O silly husbands, wo ben ye!<br /> Such +as can have no patiénce<br /> Against your wivés +violence.</p> +<p>If that ye suffer, ye be but dead,<br /> Bicorn awaiteth +you so sore;<br />Eke of your wives go stand in dread,<br /> If +ye gainsay them any more!<br /> And thus ye stand, and have +done yore,<br /> Of life and death betwixt coveyne + <a name="citation89"></a><a href="#footnote89">{89}</a><br /> Linkéd +in a double chain.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>BEST TO BE BLYTH<br />BY WILLIAM DUNBAR.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Full oft I muse, and hes in thocht<br />How this fals Warld is ay +on flocht,<br /> Quhair no thing ferme is nor degest; + <a name="citation91a"></a><a href="#footnote91a">{91a}</a> +<a name="citation91d"></a><a href="#footnote91d">{91d}</a><br />And +when I haif my mynd all socht,<br /> For to be blyth me think +it best.</p> +<p>This warld ever dois flicht and wary, + <a name="citation91b"></a><a href="#footnote91b">{91b}</a><br />Fortoun +sa fast hir quheill dois cary,<br /> Na tyme but turning +can tak rest; <a name="citation91e"></a><a href="#footnote91e">{91e}</a><br />For +quhois fats change suld none be sary,<br /> For to be blyth +me think it best.</p> +<p>Wald men considdir in mynd richt weill,<br />Or Fortoun on him turn +hir quheill,<br /> That erdly honour may nocht lest,<br />His +fall less panefull he suld feill;<br /> For to be blyth me +think it best.</p> +<p>Quha with this warld dois warsill and stryfe, +<a name="citation91c"></a><a href="#footnote91c">{91c}</a><br />And +dois his dayis in dolour dryfe,<br /> Thocht he in lordschip +be possest,<br />He levis bot ane wrechit lyfe:<br /> For +to be blyth me think it best.</p> +<p>Off warldis gud and grit richess,<br />Quhat fruct hes man but merriness?<br /> Thocht +he this warld had eist and west,<br />All wer povertie but glaidness:<br /> For +to be blyth me think it best.</p> +<p>Quho suld for tynsall drowp or de, + <a name="citation92a"></a><a href="#footnote92a">{92a}</a><br />For +thyng that is bot vanitie;<br /> Sen to the lyfe that evir +dois lest,<br />Heir is bot twynkling of an ee:<br /> For +to be blyth me think it best.</p> +<p>Had I for warldis unkyndnéss<br />In hairt tane ony heviness,<br /> Or +fro my plesans bene opprest;<br />I had bene deid lang syne dowtless:<br /> For +to be blyth me think it best.</p> +<p>How evir this warld do change and vary,<br />Lat us in hairt nevir +moir be sary,<br /> But evir be reddy and addrest<br />To +pass out of this frawfull fary: +<a name="citation92b"></a><a href="#footnote92b">{92b}</a><br /> For +to be blyth me think it best.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>DOWSABELL<br />BY MICHAEL DRAYTON.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Far in the country of Arden<br />There woned a knight, hight Cassamen, + <a name="citation93d"></a><a href="#footnote93d">{93d}</a><br /> As +bold as Isenbras:<br />Fell was he and eager bent<br />In battle and +in tournament<br /> As was good Sir Topás.</p> +<p>He had, as antique stories tell,<br />A daughter clepéd Dowsabell,<br /> A +maiden fair and free.<br />And for she was her fathers heir,<br />Full +well she was yconned the leir <a name="citation93a"></a><a href="#footnote93a">{93a}</a> +<a name="citation93b"></a><a href="#footnote93b">{93b}</a><br /> Of +mickle courtesie.</p> +<p>The silk well couth she twist and twine,<br />And make the finé +marché pine, <a name="citation93c"></a><a href="#footnote93c">{93c}</a><br /> And +with the needle work;<br />And she couth help the priest to say<br />His +matins on a holiday,<br /> And sing a psalm in kirk.</p> +<p>She ware a frock of frolic green<br />Might well become a maiden +queen,<br /> Which seemly was to see;<br />A hood to that +so neat and fine,<br />In colour like the columbine,<br /> Inwrought +full featously.</p> +<p>Her features all as fresh above<br />As is the grass that grows by +Dove,<br /> And lithe as lass of Kent.<br />Her skin as soft +as Lemster wool, <a name="citation94a"></a><a href="#footnote94a">{94a}</a><br />And +white as snow on Peakish hull, <a name="citation94b"></a><a href="#footnote94b">{94b}</a><br /> Or +swan that swims in Trent.</p> +<p>This maiden, in a morn betime,<br />Went forth, when May was in the +prime,<br /> To get sweet setiwall, + <a name="citation94c"></a><a href="#footnote94c">{94c}</a><br />The +honeysuckle, the harlock, +<a name="citation94d"></a><a href="#footnote94d">{94d}</a><br />The +lily and the lady-smock, + <a name="citation94k"></a><a href="#footnote94k">{94k}</a><br /> To +deck her summer-hall. + <a name="citation94e"></a><a href="#footnote94e">{94e}</a></p> +<p>Thus, as she wandered here and there,<br />And pickéd of the +bloomy brere,<br /> She chancéd to espy<br />A shepherd +sitting on a bank,<br />Like chanticleer he crowéd crank, + <a name="citation94f"></a><a href="#footnote94f">{94f}</a><br /> And +piped full merrily.</p> +<p>He learned his sheep as he him list, <a name="citation94g"></a><a href="#footnote94g">{94g}</a><br />When +he would whistle in his fist,<br /> To feed about him round,<br />Whilst +he full many a carol sang,<br />Until the fields and meadows rang,<br /> And +that the woods did sound.</p> +<p>In favour this same shepherd swain<br />Was like the bedlam Tamburlaine<br /> Which +held proud kings in awe.<br />But meek as any lamb mought be,<br />And +innocent of ill as he<br /> Whom his lewd brother slaw.</p> +<p>This shepherd ware a sheep-gray cloke,<br />Which was of the finest +loke<br /> That could be cut with shear;<br />His mittens +were of bauzon’s skin, <a name="citation94h"></a><a href="#footnote94h">{94h}</a><br />His +cockers were of cordiwin, + <a name="citation94i"></a><a href="#footnote94i">{94i}</a> <a name="citation94j"></a><a href="#footnote94j">{94j}</a><br /> His +hood of minivere.</p> +<p>His awl and lingell in a thong; + <a name="citation95a"></a><a href="#footnote95a">{95a}</a><br />His +tarbox on his broadbelt hung,<br /> His breech of Cointree +blue.<br />Full crisp and curléd were his locks,<br />His brows +as white as Albion rocks,<br /> So like a lover true.</p> +<p>And piping still he spent the day<br />So merry as the popinjay,<br /> Which +likéd Dowsabell,<br />That would she ought, or would she nought,<br />This +lad would never from her thought,<br /> She in love-longing +fell.</p> +<p>At length she tuckéd up her frock,<br />White as the lily +was her smock;<br /> She drew the shepherd nigh;<br />But +then the shepherd piped a good,<br />That all the sheep forsook their +food,<br /> To hear his melodie.</p> +<p>“Thy sheep,” quoth she, “cannot be lean<br />That +have a jolly shepherd swain<br /> The which can pipe so well.”<br />“Yea, +but,” saith he, “their shepherd may,<br />If piping thus +he pine away<br /> In love of Dowsabell.”</p> +<p>“Of love, fond boy, take then no keep,” + <a name="citation95b"></a><a href="#footnote95b">{95b}</a><br />Quoth +she; “Look well unto thy sheep,<br /> Lest they should +hap to stray.”<br />Quoth he, “So had I done full well,<br />Had +I not seen fair Dowsabell<br /> Come forth to gather may.”</p> +<p>With that she ’gan to vail her head,<br />Her cheeks were like +the roses red,<br /> But not a word she said.<br />With that +the shepherd ’gan to frown,<br />He threw his pretty pipes adown,<br /> And +on the ground him laid.</p> +<p>Saith she, “I may not stay till night<br />And leave my summer-hall +undight,<br /> And all for love of thee.”<br />“My +cote,” saith he, “nor yet my fold<br />Shall neither sheep +nor shepherd hold,<br /> Except thou favour me.”</p> +<p>Saith she, “Yet liever were I dead<br />Than I should [yield +me to be wed],<br /> And all for love of men.”<br />Saith +he, “Yet are you too unkind<br />If in your heart you cannot find<br /> To +love us now and then.</p> +<p>“And I to thee will be as kind<br />As Colin was to Rosalind<br /> Of +courtesy the flower.”<br />“Then will I be as true,” +quoth she,<br />“As ever maiden yet might be<br /> Unto +her paramour.”</p> +<p>With that she bent her snow-white knee<br />Down by the shepherd +kneeléd she,<br /> And him she sweetly kist.<br />With +that the shepherd whooped for joy.<br />Quoth he, “There’s +never shepherd’s boy<br /> That ever was so blist.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>NYMPHIDIA, THE COURT OF FAIRY<br />By MICHAEL DRAYTON.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Old Chaucer doth of Topas tell,<br />Mad Rabelais of Pantágruél,<br />A +later third of Dowsabel<br /> With such poor trifles playing;<br />Others +the like have laboured at,<br />Some of this thing and some of that,<br />And +many of they knew not what,<br /> But what they may be saying.</p> +<p>Another sort there be, that will<br />Be talking of the Fairies still,<br />For +never can they have their fill,<br /> As they were wedded +to them;<br />No tales of them their thirst can slake,<br />So much +delight therein they take,<br />And some strange thing they fain would +make,<br /> Knew they the way to do them.</p> +<p>Then since no Muse hath been so bold,<br />Or of the later, or the +old,<br />Those elvish secrets to unfold,<br /> Which lie +from others’ reading;<br />My active Muse to light shall bring<br />The +court of that proud Fairy King,<br />And tell there of the revelling.<br /> Jove +prosper my proceeding!</p> +<p>And thou, Nymphidia, gentle Fay,<br />Which, meeting me upon the +way,<br />These secrets didst to me bewray,<br /> Which now +I am in telling;<br />My pretty, light, fantastic maid,<br />I here +invoke thee to my aid,<br />That I may speak what thou hast said,<br /> In +numbers smoothly swelling.</p> +<p>This palace standeth in the air,<br />By necromancy placéd +there,<br />That it no tempest needs to fear,<br /> Which +way soe’er it blow it.<br />And somewhat southward tow’rds +the noon,<br />Whence lies a way up to the moon,<br />And thence the +Fairy can as soon<br /> Pass to the earth below it.</p> +<p>The walls of spiders’ legs are made<br />Well mortiséd +and finely laid;<br />It was the master of his trade<br /> It +curiously that builded;<br />The windows of the eyes of cats,<br />And +for the roof, instead of slats,<br />Is covered with the skins of bats,<br /> With +moonshine that are gilded.</p> +<p>Hence Oberon him sport to make,<br />Their rest when weary mortals +take,<br />And none but only fairies wake,<br /> Descendeth +for his pleasure;<br />And Mab, his merry Queen, by night<br />Bestrides +young folks that lie upright,<br />(In elder times the mare that hight),<br /> Which +plagues them out of measure.</p> +<p>Hence shadows, seeming idle shapes,<br />Of little frisking elves +and apes<br />To earth do make their wanton scapes,<br /> As +hope of pastime hastes them;<br />Which maids think on the hearth they +see<br />When fires well-nigh consuméd be,<br />There dancing +hays by two and three, <a name="citation98"></a><a href="#footnote98">{98}</a><br /> Just +as their fancy casts them.</p> +<p>These make our girls their sluttery rue,<br />By pinching them both +black and blue,<br />And put a penny in their shoe<br /> The +house for cleanly sweeping;<br />And in their courses make that round<br />In +meadows and in marshes found,<br />Of them so called the Fairy Ground,<br /> Of +which they have the keeping.</p> +<p>These when a child haps to be got<br />Which after proves an idiot<br />When +folk perceive it thriveth not,<br /> The fault therein to +smother,<br />Some silly, doting, brainless calf<br />That understands +things by the half,<br />Say that the Fairy left this oaf<br /> And +took away the other.</p> +<p>But listen, and I shall you tell<br />A chance in Faery that befell,<br />Which +certainly may please some well,<br /> In love and arms delighting,<br />Of +Oberon that jealous grew<br />Of one of his own Fairy crew,<br />Too +well, he feared, his Queen that knew,<br /> His love but +ill requiting.</p> +<p>Pigwiggin was this Fairy Knight,<br />One wondrous gracious in the +sight<br />Of fair Queen Mab, which day and night<br /> He +amorously observéd;<br />Which made King Oberon suspect<br />His +service took too good effect,<br />His sauciness had often checkt,<br /> And +could have wished him stervéd.</p> +<p>Pigwiggin gladly would commend<br />Some token to Queen Mab to send,<br />If +sea or land him aught could lend<br /> Were worthy of her +wearing;<br />At length this lover doth devise<br />A bracelet made +of emmets’ eyes,<br />A thing he thought that she would prize,<br /> No +whit her state impairing.</p> +<p>And to the Queen a letter writes,<br />Which he most curiously indites,<br />Conjuring +her by all the rites<br /> Of love, she would be pleaséd<br />To +meet him, her true servant, where<br />They might, without suspect or +fear,<br />Themselves to one another clear<br /> And have +their poor hearts easéd.</p> +<p>At midnight, the appointed hour;<br />“And for the Queen a +fitting bower,”<br />Quoth he, “is that fair cowslip flower<br /> On +Hient Hill that bloweth; + <a name="citation100"></a><a href="#footnote100">{100}</a><br />In +all your train there’s not a fay<br />That ever went to gather +may<br />But she hath made it, in her way,<br /> The tallest +there that groweth.”</p> +<p>When by Tom Thumb, a Fairy Page,<br />He sent it, and doth him engage<br />By +promise of a mighty wage<br /> It secretly to carry;<br />Which +done, the Queen her maids doth call,<br />And bids them to be ready +all:<br />She would go see her summer hall,<br /> She could +no longer tarry.</p> +<p>Her chariot ready straight is made,<br />Each thing therein is fitting +laid,<br />That she by nothing might be stayed,<br /> For +nought must be her letting;<br />Four nimble gnats the horses were,<br />Their +harnesses of gossamere,<br />Fly Cranion the charioteer<br /> Upon +the coach-box getting.</p> +<p>Her chariot of a snail’s fine shell,<br />Which for the colours +did excel,<br />The fair Queen Mab becoming well,<br /> So +lively was the limning;<br />The seat the soft wool of the bee,<br />The +cover, gallantly to see,<br />The wing of a pied butterfly;<br /> I +trow ’twas simple trimming.</p> +<p>The wheels composed of cricket’s bones,<br />And daintily made +for the nonce,<br />For fear of rattling on the stones<br /> With +thistle-down they shod it;<br />For all her maidens much did fear<br />If +Oberon had chanced to hear<br />That Mab his Queen should have been +there,<br /> He would not have abode it.</p> +<p>She mounts her chariot with a trice,<br />Nor would she stay, for +no advice,<br />Until her maids that were so nice<br /> To +wait on her were fitted;<br />But ran herself away alone,<br />Which +when they heard, there was not one<br />But hasted after to be gone,<br /> As +he had been diswitted.</p> +<p>Hop and Mop and Drop so clear,<br />Pip and Trip and Skip that were<br />To +Mab, their sovereign, ever dear,<br /> Her special maids +of honour;<br />Fib and Tib and Pink and Pin,<br />Tick and Quick and +Jill and Jin,<br />Tit and Nit and Wap and Win,<br /> The +train that wait upon her.</p> +<p>Upon a grasshopper they got<br />And, what with amble, what with +trot,<br />For hedge and ditch they sparéd not,<br /> But +after her they hie them;<br />A cobweb over them they throw,<br />To +shield the wind if it should blow,<br />Themselves they wisely could +bestow<br /> Lest any should espy them.</p> +<p>But let us leave Queen Mab awhile,<br />Through many a gate, o’er +many a stile,<br />That now had gotten by this wile,<br /> Her +dear Pigwiggin kissing;<br />And tell how Oberon doth fare,<br />Who +grew as mad as any hare<br />When he had sought each place with care,<br /> And +found his Queen was missing.</p> +<p>By grisly Pluto he doth swear,<br />He rent his clothes and tore +his hair,<br />And as he runneth here and there<br /> An +acorn cup he greeteth,<br />Which soon he taketh by the stalk,<br />About +his head he lets it walk,<br />Nor doth he any creature balk,<br /> But +lays on all he meeteth.</p> +<p>The Tuscan Poet doth advance,<br />The frantic Paladin of France,<br />And +those more ancient do enhance<br /> Alcides in his fury,<br />And +others Aiax Telamon,<br />But to this time there hath been none<br />So +Bedlam as our Oberon,<br /> Of which I dare assure ye.</p> +<p>And first encountering with a Wasp,<br />He in his arms the fly doth +clasp<br />As though his breath he forth would grasp,<br /> Him +for Pigwiggin taking:<br />“Where is my wife, thou rogue?” +quoth be;<br />“Pigwiggin, she is come to thee;<br />Restore her, +or thou diest by me!”<br /> Whereat the poor Wasp quaking</p> +<p>Cries, “Oberon, great Fairy King,<br />Content thee, I am no +such thing:<br />I am a Wasp, behold my sting!”<br /> At +which the Fairy started;<br />When soon away the Wasp doth go,<br />Poor +wretch, was never frighted so;<br />He thought his wings were much too +slow,<br /> O’erjoyed they so were parted.</p> +<p>He next upon a Glow-worm light,<br />You must suppose it now was +night,<br />Which, for her hinder part was bright,<br /> He +took to be a devil,<br />And furiously doth her assail<br />For carrying +fire in her tail;<br />He thrashed her rough coat with his flail;<br /> The +mad King feared no evil.</p> +<p>“Oh!” quoth the Glow-worm, “hold thy hand,<br />Thou +puissant King of Fairy-land!<br />Thy mighty strokes who may withstand?<br /> Hold, +or of life despair I!”<br />Together then herself doth roll,<br />And +tumbling down into a hole<br />She seemed as black as any coal;<br /> Which +vext away the Fairy.</p> +<p>From thence he ran into a hive:<br />Amongst the bees he letteth +drive,<br />And down their combs begins to rive,<br /> All +likely to have spoiléd,<br />Which with their wax his face besmeared,<br />And +with their honey daubed his beard:<br />It would have made a man afeared<br /> To +see how he was moiléd.</p> +<p>A new adventure him betides;<br />He met an Ant, which he bestrides,<br />And +post thereon away he rides,<br /> Which with his haste doth +stumble;<br />And came full over on her snout,<br />Her heels so threw +the dirt about,<br />For she by no means could get out,<br /> But +over him doth tumble.</p> +<p>And being in this piteous case,<br />And all be-slurréd head +and face,<br />On runs he in this wild-goose chase,<br /> As +here and there he rambles;<br />Half blind, against a mole-hill hit,<br />And +for a mountain taking it,<br />For all he was out of his wit<br /> Yet +to the top he scrambles.</p> +<p>And being gotten to the top,<br />Yet there himself he could not +stop,<br />But down on th’ other side doth chop,<br /> And +to the foot came rumbling;<br />So that the grubs, therein that bred,<br />Hearing +such turmoil over head,<br />Thought surely they had all been dead;<br /> So +fearful was the jumbling.</p> +<p>And falling down into a lake,<br />Which him up to the neck doth +take,<br />His fury somewhat it doth slake;<br /> He calleth +for a ferry;<br />Where you may some recovery note;<br />What was his +club he made his boat,<br />And in his oaken cup doth float,<br /> As +safe as in a wherry.</p> +<p>Men talk of the adventures strange<br />Of Don Quixoit, and of their +change<br />Through which he arméd oft did range,<br /> Of +Sancho Pancha’s travel;<br />But should a man tell every thing<br />Done +by this frantic Fairy King,<br />And them in lofty numbers sing,<br /> It +well his wits might gravel.</p> +<p>Scarce set on shore, but therewithal<br />He meeteth Puck, which +most men call<br />Hobgoblin, and on him doth fall,<br /> With +words from frenzy spoken:<br />“Oh, oh,” quoth Hob, “God +save thy grace!<br />Who drest thee in this piteous case?<br />He thus +that spoiled my sovereign’s face,<br /> I would his +neck were broken!”</p> +<p>This Puck seems but a dreaming dolt,<br />Still walking like a ragged +colt,<br />And oft out of a bush doth bolt,<br /> Of purpose +to deceive us;<br />And leading us makes us to stray,<br />Long winter’s +nights, out of the way;<br />And when we stick in mire and clay,<br /> Hob +doth with laughter leave us.</p> +<p>“Dear Puck,” quoth he, “my wife is gone:<br />As +e’er thou lov’st King Oberon,<br />Let everything but this +alone,<br /> With vengeance and pursue her;<br />Bring her +to me alive or dead,<br />Or that vile thief, Pigwiggin’s head,<br />That +villain hath [my Queen misled];<br /> He to this folly drew +her.”</p> +<p>Quoth Puck, “My liege, I’ll never lin,<br />But I will +thorough thick and thin,<br />Until at length I bring her in;<br /> My +dearest lord, ne’er doubt it.”<br />Thorough brake, thorough +briar,<br />Thorough muck, thorough mire,<br />Thorough water, thorough +fire;<br /> And thus goes Puck about it.</p> +<p>This thing Nymphidia overheard,<br />That on this mad king had a +guard,<br />Not doubting of a great reward,<br /> For first +this business broaching;<br />And through the air away doth go,<br />Swift +as an arrow from the bow,<br />To let her sovereign Mab to know<br /> What +peril was approaching.</p> +<p>The Queen, bound with Love’s powerful charm,<br />Sate with +Pigwiggin arm in arm;<br />Her merry maids, that thought no harm,<br /> About +the room were skipping;<br />A humble-bee, their minstrel, played<br />Upon +his hautboy, every maid<br />Fit for this revel was arrayed,<br /> The +hornpipe neatly tripping.</p> +<p>In comes Nymphidia, and doth cry,<br />“My sovereign, for your +safety fly,<br />For there is danger but too nigh;<br /> I +posted to forewarn you:<br />The King hath sent Hobgoblin out,<br />To +seek you all the fields about,<br />And of your safety you may doubt,<br /> If +he but once discern you.”</p> +<p>When, like an uproar in a town,<br />Before them everything went +down;<br />Some tore a ruff, and some a gown,<br /> ’Gainst +one another justling;<br />They flew about like chaff i’ th’ +wind;<br />For haste some left their masks behind;<br />Some could not +stay their gloves to find;<br /> There never was such bustling.</p> +<p>Forth ran they, by a secret way,<br />Into a brake that near them +lay;<br />Yet much they doubted there to stay,<br /> Lest +Hob should hap to find them;<br />He had a sharp and piercing sight,<br />All +one to him the day and night;<br />And therefore were resolved, by flight,<br /> To +leave this place behind them.</p> +<p>At length one chanced to find a nut,<br />In th’ end of which +a hole was cut,<br />Which lay upon a hazel root,<br /> There +scattered by a squirrel<br />Which out the kernel gotten had;<br />When +quoth this Fay, “Dear Queen, be glad;<br />Let Oberon be ne’er +so mad,<br /> I’ll set you safe from peril.</p> +<p>“Come all into this nut,” quoth she,<br />“Come +closely in; be ruled by me;<br />Each one may here a chooser be,<br /> For +room ye need not wrastle:<br />Nor need ye be together heaped;”<br />So +one by one therein they crept,<br />And lying down they soundly slept,<br /> And +safe as in a castle.</p> +<p>Nymphidia, that this while doth watch,<br />Perceived if Puck the +Queen should catch<br />That he should be her over-match,<br /> Of +which she well bethought her;<br />Found it must be some powerful charm,<br />The +Queen against him that must arm,<br />Or surely he would do her harm,<br /> For +throughly he had sought her.</p> +<p>And listening if she aught could hear,<br />That her might hinder, +or might fear;<br />But finding still the coast was clear;<br /> Nor +creature had descried her;<br />Each circumstance and having scanned,<br />She +came thereby to understand,<br />Puck would be with them out of hand;<br /> When +to her charms she hied her.</p> +<p>And first her fern-seed doth bestow,<br />The kernel of the mistletoe;<br />And +here and there as Puck should go,<br /> With terror to affright +him,<br />She night-shade strews to work him ill,<br />Therewith her +vervain and her dill,<br />That hindreth witches of their will,<br /> Of +purpose to despite him.</p> +<p>Then sprinkles she the juice of rue,<br />That groweth underneath +the yew;<br />With nine drops of the midnight dew,<br /> From +lunary distilling:<br />The molewarp’s brain mixed therewithal; + <a name="citation108a"></a><a href="#footnote108a">{108a}</a><br />And +with the same the pismire’s gall:<br />For she in nothing short +would fall,<br /> The Fairy was so willing.</p> +<p>Then thrice under a briar doth creep,<br />Which at both ends was +rooted deep,<br />And over it three times she leap;<br /> Her +magic much availing:<br />Then on Prosérpina doth call,<br />And +so upon her spell doth fall,<br />Which here to you repeat I shall,<br /> Not +in one tittle failing.</p> +<p>“By the croaking of a frog;<br />By the howling of the dog;<br />By +the crying of the hog<br /> Against the storm arising;<br />By +the evening curfew bell,<br />By the doleful dying knell,<br />O let +this my direful spell,<br /> Hob, hinder thy surprising!</p> +<p>“By the mandrake’s dreadful groans; + <a name="citation108b"></a><a href="#footnote108b">{108b}</a><br />By +the lubrican’s sad moans; + <a name="citation108c"></a><a href="#footnote108c">{108c}</a><br />By +the noise of dead men’s bones<br /> In charnel-houses +rattling;<br />By the hissing of the snake,<br />The rustling of the +fire-drake, +<a name="citation108d"></a><a href="#footnote108d">{108d}</a><br />I +charge thee thou this place forsake,<br /> Nor of Queen Mab +be prattling!</p> +<p>“By the whirlwind’s hollow sound,<br />By the thunder’s +dreadful stound,<br />Yells of spirits underground,<br /> I +charge thee not to fear us;<br />By the screech-owl’s dismal note,<br />By +the black night-raven’s throat,<br />I charge thee, Hob, to tear +thy coat<br /> With thorns, if thou come near us!”</p> +<p>Her spell thus spoke, she stept aside,<br />And in a chink herself +doth hide,<br />To see thereof what would betide,<br /> For +she doth only mind him:<br />When presently she Puck espies,<br />And +well she marked his gloating eyes,<br />How under every leaf he pries,<br /> In +seeking still to find them.</p> +<p>But once the circle got within,<br />The charms to work do straight +begin,<br />And he was caught as in a gin;<br /> For as he +thus was busy,<br />A pain he in his head-piece feels,<br />Against +a stubbéd tree he reels,<br />And up went poor Hobgoblin’s +heels,<br /> Alas! his brain was dizzy!</p> +<p>At length upon his feet he gets,<br />Hobgoblin fumes, Hobgoblin +frets;<br />And as again he forward sets,<br /> And through +the bushes scrambles,<br />A stump doth trip him in his pace;<br />Down +comes poor Hob upon his face,<br />And lamentably tore his case,<br /> Amongst +the briars and brambles.</p> +<p>“A plague upon Queen Mab!” quoth he,<br />“And +all her maids where’er they be<br />I think the devil guided me,<br /> To +seek her so provokéd!”<br />Where stumbling at a piece +of wood,<br />He fell into a ditch of mud,<br />Where to the very chin +he stood,<br /> In danger to be chokéd.</p> +<p>Now worse than e’er he was before,<br />Poor Puck doth yell, +poor Puck doth roar,<br />That waked Queen Mab, who doubted sore<br /> Some +treason had been wrought her:<br />Until Nymphidia told the Queen<br />What +she had done, what she had seen,<br />Who then had well-near cracked +her spleen<br /> With very extreme laughter.</p> +<p>But leave we Hob to clamber out,<br />Queen Mab and all her Fairy +rout,<br />And come again to have a bout<br /> With Oberon +yet madding:<br />And with Pigwiggin now distraught,<br />Who much was +troubled in his thought,<br />That he so long the Queen had sought,<br /> And +through the fields was gadding.</p> +<p>And as he runs he still doth cry,<br />“King Oberon, I thee +defy,<br />And dare thee here in arms to try,<br /> For my +dear lady’s honour:<br />For that she is a Queen right good,<br />In +whose defence I’ll shed my blood,<br />And that thou in this jealous +mood<br /> Hast laid this slander on her.”</p> +<p>And quickly arms him for the field,<br />A little cockle-shell his +shield,<br />Which he could very bravely wield;<br /> Yet +could it not be piercéd:<br />His spear a bent both stiff and +strong,<br />And well-near of two inches long:<br />The pile was of +a horse-fly’s tongue,<br /> Whose sharpness nought +reverséd.</p> +<p>And puts him on a coat of mail,<br />Which was made of a fish’s +scale,<br />That when his foe should him assail,<br /> No +point should be prevailing:<br />His rapier was a hornet’s sting,<br />It +was a very dangerous thing,<br />For if he chanced to hurt the King,<br /> It +would be long in healing.</p> +<p>His helmet was a beetle’s head,<br />Most horrible and full +of dread,<br />That able was to strike one dead,<br /> Yet +did it well become him;<br />And for a plume a horse’s hair,<br />Which, +being tosséd with the air,<br />Had force to strike his foe with +fear,<br /> And turn his weapon from him.</p> +<p>Himself he on an earwig set,<br />Yet scarce he on his back could +get,<br />So oft and high he did curvet,<br /> Ere he himself +could settle:<br />He made him turn, and stop, and bound,<br />To gallop, +and to trot the round,<br />He scarce could stand on any ground,<br /> He +was so full of mettle.</p> +<p>When soon he met with Tomalin,<br />One that a valiant knight had +been,<br />And to King Oberon of kin;<br /> Quoth he, “Thou +manly Fairy,<br />Tell Oberon I come prepared,<br />Then bid him stand +upon his guard;<br />This hand his baseness shall reward,<br /> Let +him be ne’er so wary.</p> +<p>“Say to him thus, that I defy<br />His slanders and his infamy,<br />And +as a mortal enemy<br /> Do publicly proclaim him:<br />Withal +that if I had mine own,<br />He should not wear the Fairy crown,<br />But +with a vengeance should come down,<br /> Nor we a king should +name him.”</p> +<p>This Tomalin could not abide,<br />To hear his sovereign vilified;<br />But +to the Fairy Court him hied,<br /> (Full furiously he posted,)<br />With +everything Pigwiggin said:<br />How title to the crown he laid,<br />And +in what arms he was arrayed,<br /> As how himself he boasted.</p> +<p>Twixt head and foot, from point to point,<br />He told the arming +of each joint,<br />In every piece how neat and quoint,<br /> For +Tomalin could do it:<br />How fair he sat, how sure he rid,<br />As +of the courser he bestrid,<br />How managed, and how well he did:<br /> The +King which listened to it,</p> +<p>Quoth he, “Go, Tomalin, with speed,<br />Provide me arms, provide +my steed,<br />And everything that I shall need;<br /> By +thee I will be guided:<br />To straight account call thou thy wit;<br />See +there be wanting not a whit,<br />In everything see thou me fit,<br /> Just +as my foe’s provided.”</p> +<p>Soon flew this news through Fairy-land,<br />Which gave Queen Mab +to understand<br />The combat that was then in hand<br /> Betwixt +those men so mighty:<br />Which greatly she began to rue,<br />Perceiving +that all Fairy knew<br />The first occasion from her grew<br /> Of +these affairs so weighty.</p> +<p>Wherefore attended with her maids,<br />Through fogs, and mists, +and damps she wades,<br />To Proserpine the Queen of Shades,<br /> To +treat, that it would please her<br />The cause into her hands to take,<br />For +ancient love and friendship’s sake,<br />And soon thereof an end +to make,<br /> Which of much care would ease her.</p> +<p>A while there let we Mab alone,<br />And come we to King Oberon,<br />Who, +armed to meet his foe, is gone,<br /> For proud Pigwiggin +crying:<br />Who sought the Fairy King as fast,<br />And had so well +his journeys cast,<br />That he arrivéd at the last,<br /> His +puissant foe espying.</p> +<p>Stout Tomalin came with the King,<br />Tom Thumb doth on Pigwiggin +bring,<br />That perfect were in everything<br /> To single +fights belonging:<br />And therefore they themselves engage,<br />To +see them exercise their rage,<br />With fair and comely equipage,<br /> Not +one the other wronging.</p> +<p>So like in arms these champions were,<br />As they had been a very +pair,<br />So that a man would almost swear,<br /> That either +had been either;<br />Their furious steeds began to neigh,<br />That +they were heard a mighty way;<br />Their staves upon their rests they +lay;<br /> Yet ere they flew together</p> +<p>Their seconds minister an oath,<br />Which was indifferent to them +both,<br />That on their knightly faith and troth<br /> No +magic them suppliéd;<br />And sought them that they had no charms,<br />Wherewith +to work each other harms,<br />But came with simple open arms<br /> To +have their causes triéd.</p> +<p>Together furiously they ran,<br />That to the ground came horse and +man;<br />The blood out of their helmets span,<br /> So sharp +were their encounters;<br />And though they to the earth were thrown,<br />Yet +quickly they regained their own,<br />Such nimbleness was never shown,<br /> They +were two gallant mounters.</p> +<p>When in a second course again<br />They forward came with might and +main,<br />Yet which had better of the twain,<br /> The seconds +could not judge yet;<br />Their shields were into pieces cleft,<br />Their +helmets from their heads were reft,<br />And to defend them nothing +left,<br /> These champions would not budge yet.</p> +<p>Away from them their staves they threw,<br />Their cruel swords they +quickly drew,<br />And freshly they the fight renew,<br /> They +every stroke redoubled:<br />Which made Prosérpina take heed,<br />And +make to them the greater speed,<br />For fear lest they too much should +bleed,<br /> Which wondrously her troubled.</p> +<p>When to th’ infernal Styx she goes,<br />She takes the fogs +from thence that rose,<br />And in a bag doth them enclose:<br /> When +well she had them blended,<br />She hies her then to Lethe spring, <a name="citation114"></a><a href="#footnote114">{114}</a><br />A +bottle and thereof doth bring,<br />Wherewith she meant to work the +thing<br /> Which only she intended.</p> +<p>Now Proserpine with Mab is gone,<br />Unto the place where Oberon<br />And +proud Pigwiggin, one to one,<br /> Both to be slain were +likely:<br />And there themselves they closely hide,<br />Because they +would not be espied;<br />For Proserpine meant to decide<br /> The +matter very quickly.</p> +<p>And suddenly unties the poke,<br />Which out of it sent such a smoke,<br />As +ready was them all to choke,<br /> So grievous was the pother;<br />So +that the knights each other lost,<br />And stood as still as any post;<br />Tom +Thumb nor Tomalin could boast<br /> Themselves of any other.</p> +<p>But when the mist ’gan somewhat cease,<br />Prosérpina +commandeth peace;<br />And that a while they should release<br /> Each +other of their peril:<br />“Which here,” quoth she, “I +do proclaim<br />To all in dreadful Pluto’s name,<br />That as +ye will eschew his blame,<br /> You let me bear the quarrel:</p> +<p>“But here yourselves you must engage,<br />Somewhat to cool +your spleenish rage;<br />Your grievous thirst and to assuage<br /> That +first you drink this liquor,<br />Which shall your understanding clear,<br />As +plainly shall to you appear;<br />Those things from me that you shall +hear,<br /> Conceiving much the quicker.”</p> +<p>This Lethe water, you must know,<br />The memory destroyeth so,<br />That +of our weal, or of our woe,<br /> Is all remembrance blotted;<br />Of +it nor can you ever think,<br />For they no sooner took this drink,<br />But +nought into their brains could sink<br /> Of what had them +besotted.</p> +<p>King Oberon forgotten had,<br />That he for jealousy ran mad,<br />But +of his Queen was wondrous glad,<br /> And asked how they +came thither:<br />Pigwiggin likewise doth forget<br />That he Queen +Mab had ever met;<br />Or that they were so hard beset,<br /> When +they were found together.</p> +<p>Nor neither of them both had thought,<br />That e’er they each +had other sought,<br />Much less that they a combat fought,<br /> But +such a dream were lothing.<br />Tom Thumb had got a little sup,<br />And +Tomalin scarce kissed the cup,<br />Yet had their brains so sure locked +up,<br /> That they remembered nothing.</p> +<p>Queen Mab and her light maids, the while,<br />Amongst themselves +do closely smile,<br />To see the King caught with this wile,<br /> With +one another jesting:<br />And to the Fairy Court they went,<br />With +mickle joy and merriment,<br />Which thing was done with good intent,<br /> And +thus I left them feasting.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>POPE’S RAPE OF THE LOCK.<br />AN HEROI-COMICAL POEM.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p> <i>Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare +capillos;<br /> Sed juvat, hoc precibus +me tribuisse tuis.<br /></i> - +MART., <i>Epigr</i>. xii. 84.</p> +<p>CANTO I.</p> +<p>What dire offence from amorous causes springs,<br />What mighty contests +rise from trivial things,<br />I sing - This verse to Caryl, Muse! is +due:<br />This, even Belinda may vouchsafe to view:<br />Slight is the +subject, but not so the praise,<br />If she inspire, and he approve +my lays.</p> +<p> Say what strange motive, Goddess! could compel<br />A +well-bred lord to assault a gentle belle?<br />O say what stranger cause, +yet unexplored,<br />Could make a gentle belle reject a lord?<br />In +tasks so bold, can little men engage,<br />And in soft bosoms dwells +such mighty rage?</p> +<p> Sol through white curtains shot a timorous ray,<br />And +oped those eyes that must eclipse the day:<br />Now lap-dogs give themselves +the rousing shake,<br />And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake:<br />Thrice +rung the bell, the slipper knocked the ground,<br />And the pressed +watch returned a silver sound.<br />Belinda still her downy pillow pressed,<br />Her +guardian Sylph prolonged the balmy rest;<br />’Twas he had summoned +to her silent bed<br />The morning-dream that hovered o’er her +head;<br />A youth more glittering than a birth-night beau,<br />(That +even in slumber caused her cheek to glow)<br />Seemed to her ear his +winning lips to lay,<br />And thus in whispers said, or seemed to say:</p> +<p> “Fairest of mortals, thou distinguished care<br />Of +thousand bright inhabitants of air!<br />If e’er one vision touched +thy infant thought,<br />Of all the nurse and all the priest have taught;<br />Of +airy elves by moonlight shadows seen,<br />The silver token, and the +circled green,<br />Or virgins visited by angel-powers,<br />With golden +crowns and wreaths of heavenly flowers;<br />Hear and believe! thy own +importance know,<br />Nor bound thy narrow views to things below.<br />Some +secret truths, from learned pride concealed,<br />To maids alone and +children are revealed:<br />What though no credit doubting wits may +give?<br />The fair and innocent shall still believe.<br />Know, then, +unnumbered spirits round thee fly,<br />The light militia of the lower +sky:<br />These, though unseen, are ever on the wing,<br />Hang o’er +the box, and hover round the ring.<br />Think what an equipage thou +hast in air,<br />And view with scorn two pages and a chair.<br />As +now your own, our beings were of old,<br />And once enclosed in woman’s +beauteous mould;<br />Thence, by a soft transition, we repair<br />From +earthly vehicles to these of air.<br />Think not, when woman’s +transient breath is fled,<br />That all her vanities at once are dead;<br />Succeeding +vanities she still regards,<br />And though she plays no more, o’erlooks +the cards.<br />Her joy in gilded chariots, when alive,<br />And love +of ombre, after death survive.<br />For when the fair in all their pride +expire,<br />To their first elements their souls retire:<br />The sprites +of fiery termagants in flame<br />Mount up, and take a Salamander’s +name.<br />Soft yielding minds to water glide away,<br />And sip, with +nymphs, their elemental tea.<br />The graver prude sinks downward to +a gnome,<br />In search of mischief still on earth to roam,<br />The +light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair,<br />And sport and flutter in +the fields of air.</p> +<p> “Know further yet; whoever fair and chaste<br />Rejects +mankind, is by some sylph embraced:<br />For spirits, freed from mortal +laws, with ease<br />Assume what sexes and what shapes they please.<br />What +guards the purity of melting maids,<br />In courtly balls and midnight +masquerades,<br />Safe from the treacherous friend, the daring spark,<br />The +glance by day, the whisper in the dark,<br />When kind occasion prompts +their warm desires,<br />When music softens, and when dancing fires?<br />’Tis +but their sylph, the wise celestials know,<br />Though honour is the +word with men below.</p> +<p> “Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their +face,<br />For life predestined to the gnomes’ embrace.<br />These +swell their prospects and exalt their pride,<br />When offers are disdained, +and love denied:<br />Then gay ideas crowd the vacant brain,<br />While +peers, and dukes, and all their sweeping train,<br />And garters, stars, +and coronets appear,<br />And in soft sounds, Your Grace salutes their +ear.<br />’Tis these that early taint the female soul,<br />Instruct +the eyes of young coquettes to roll,<br />Teach infant cheeks a hidden +blush to know,<br />And little hearts to flutter at a beau.</p> +<p> “Oft, when the world imagine women stray,<br />The +sylphs through mystic mazes guide their way,<br />Through all the giddy +circle they pursue,<br />And old impertinence expel by new.<br />What +tender maid but must a victim fall<br />To one man’s treat, but +for another’s ball?<br />When Florio speaks what virgin could +withstand,<br />If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand?<br />With +varying vanities, from every part,<br />They shift the moving toyshop +of their heart;<br />Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots +strive,<br />Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive.<br />This +erring mortal’s levity may call;<br />Oh, blind to truth! the +sylphs contrive it all.</p> +<p> “Of these am I, who thy protection claim,<br />A +watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name.<br />Late, as I ranged the crystal +wilds of air,<br />In the clear mirror of thy ruling star<br />I saw, +alas! some dread event impend,<br />Ere to the main this morning sun +descend,<br />But heaven reveals not what, or how, or where:<br />Warned +by the sylph, oh pious maid, beware!<br />This to disclose is all thy +guardian can:<br />Beware of all, but most beware of man!”</p> +<p> He said; when Shock, who thought she slept too long,<br />Leaped +up, and waked his mistress with his tongue.<br />’Twas then, Belinda, +if report say true,<br />Thy eyes first opened on a billet-doux;<br />Wounds, +charms, and ardours were no sooner read,<br />But all the vision vanished +from thy head.</p> +<p> And now, unveiled, the toilet stands displayed,<br />Each +silver vase in mystic order laid.<br />First, robed in white, the nymph +intent adores,<br />With head uncovered, the cosmetic powers.<br />A +heavenly image in the glass appears,<br />To that she bends, to that +her eyes she rears;<br />The inferior priestess, at her altar’s +side,<br />Trembling begins the sacred rites of pride.<br />Unnumbered +treasures ope at once, and here<br />The various offerings of the world +appear;<br />From each she nicely culls with curious toil,<br />And +decks the goddess with the glittering spoil.<br />This casket India’s +glowing gems unlocks,<br />And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.<br />The +tortoise here and elephant unite,<br />Transformed to combs, the speckled, +and the white.<br />Here files of pins extend their shining rows,<br />Puffs, +powders, patches, Bibles, billet-doux.<br />Now awful beauty puts on +all its arms;<br />The fair each moment rises in her charms,<br />Repairs +her smiles, awakens every grace,<br />And calls forth all the wonders +of her face;<br />Sees by degrees a purer blush arise,<br />And keener +lightnings quicken in her eyes.<br />The busy sylphs surround their +darling care,<br />These set the head, and those divide the hair,<br />Some +fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown;<br />And Betty’s +praised for labours not her own.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>CANTO II.</p> +<p>Not with more glories, in the ethereal plain,<br />The sun first +rises o’er the purpled main,<br />Than, issuing forth, the rival +of his beams<br />Launched on the bosom of the silver Thames.<br />Fair +nymphs, and well-dressed youths around her shone,<br />But every eye +was fixed on her alone.<br />On her white breast a sparkling cross she +wore,<br />Which Jews might kiss, and Infidels adore.<br />Her lively +looks a sprightly mind disclose,<br />Quick as her eyes, and as unfixed +as those:<br />Favours to none, to all she smiles extends;<br />Oft +she rejects, but never once offends.<br />Bright as the sun, her eyes +the gazers strike,<br />And, like the sun, they shine on all alike,<br />Yet +graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride,<br />Might hide her faults, +if belles had faults to hide:<br />If to her share some female errors +fall,<br />Look on her face, and you’ll forget ’em all.</p> +<p> This nymph, to the destruction of mankind,<br />Nourished +two locks, which graceful hung behind<br />In equal curls, and well +conspired to deck<br />With shining ringlets the smooth ivory neck.<br />Love +in these labyrinths his slaves detains,<br />And mighty hearts are held +in slender chains.<br />With hairy springes we the birds betray,<br />Slight +lines of hair surprise the finny prey,<br />Fair tresses man’s +imperial race ensnare,<br />And beauty draws us with a single hair.</p> +<p> Th’ adventurous Baron the bright locks admired;<br />He +saw, he wished, and to the prize aspired.<br />Resolved to win, he meditates +the way,<br />By force to ravish, or by fraud betray;<br />For when +success a lover’s toil attends,<br />Few ask, if fraud or force +attained his ends.</p> +<p> For this, ere Phœbus rose, he had implored<br />Propitious +heaven, and every power adored,<br />But chiefly Love - to Love an altar +built,<br />Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt.<br />There +lay three garters, half a pair of gloves;<br />And all the trophies +of his former loves;<br />With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre,<br />And +breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire,<br />Then prostrate +falls, and begs with ardent eyes<br />Soon to obtain, and long possess +the prize:<br />The powers gave ear, and granted half his prayer,<br />The +rest, the winds dispersed in empty air.</p> +<p> But now secure the painted vessel glides,<br />The sunbeams +trembling on the floating tides:<br />While melting music steals upon +the sky,<br />And softened sounds along the waters die;<br />Smooth +flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play,<br />Belinda smiled, and all +the world was gay.<br />All but the Sylph - with careful thoughts oppressed,<br />Th’ +impending woe sat heavy on his breast.<br />He summons straight his +denizens of air;<br />The lucid squadrons round the sails repair:<br />Soft +o’er the shrouds aërial whispers breathe,<br />That seemed +but zephyrs to the train beneath.<br />Some to the sun their insect +wings unfold,<br />Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold;<br />Transparent +forms, too fine for mortal sight,<br />Their fluid bodies half dissolved +in light,<br />Loose to the wind their airy garments flew,<br />Thin +glittering textures of the filmy dew,<br />Dipped in the richest tincture +of the skies,<br />Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes,<br />While +every beam new transient colours flings,<br />Colours that change whene’er +they wave their wings.<br />Amid the circle, on the gilded mast,<br />Superior +by the head, was Ariel placed;<br />His purple pinions opening to the +sun,<br />He raised his azure wand, and thus begun:</p> +<p> “Ye Sylphs and Sylphids, to your chief give ear!<br />Fays, +Fairies, Genii, Elves, and Dæmons, hear!<br />Ye know the spheres +and various tasks assigned<br />By laws eternal to th’ aërial +kind.<br />Some in the fields of purest æther play,<br />And bask +and whiten in the blaze of day.<br />Some guide the course of wandering +orbs on high,<br />Or roll the planets through the boundless sky.<br />Some +less refined, beneath the moon’s pale light<br />Pursue the stars +that shoot athwart the night,<br />Or suck the mists in grosser air +below,<br />Or dip their pinions in the painted bow,<br />Or brew fierce +tempests on the wintry main,<br />Or o’er the glebe distil the +kindly rain.<br />Others on earth o’er human race preside,<br />Watch +all their ways, and all their actions guide:<br />Of these the chief +the care of nations own,<br />And guard with arms divine the British +throne.</p> +<p> “Our humbler province is to tend the fair,<br />Not +a less pleasing, though less glorious care;<br />To save the powder +from too rude a gale,<br />Nor let the imprisoned essences exhale;<br />To +draw fresh colours from the vernal flowers;<br />To steal from rainbows +ere they drop in showers<br />A brighter wash; to curl their waving +hairs,<br />Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs;<br />Nay oft, +in dreams, invention we bestow,<br />To change a flounce or add a furbelow.</p> +<p> “This day black omens threat the brightest fair<br />That +e’er deserved a watchful spirit’s care;<br />Some dire disaster, +or by force or slight;<br />But what, or where, the fates have wrapt +in night.<br />Whether the nymph shall break Diana’s law,<br />Or +some frail china jar receive a flaw;<br />Or stain her honour or her +new brocade;<br />Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade;<br />Or +lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball;<br />Or whether Heaven has doomed +that Shock must fall,<br />Haste, then, ye spirits! to your charge repair:<br />The +fluttering fan be Zephyretta’s care;<br />The drops to thee, Brillante, +we consign;<br />And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine;<br />Do thou, +Crispissa, tend her favourite lock;<br />Ariel himself shall be the +guard of Shock.</p> +<p> “To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note,<br />We +trust th’ important charge, the petticoat:<br />Oft have we known +that sevenfold fence to fail,<br />Though stiff with hoops, and armed +with ribs of whale;<br />Form a strong line about the silver bound,<br />And +guard the wide circumference around.</p> +<p> “Whatever spirit, careless of his charge,<br />His +post neglects, or leaves the fair at large,<br />Shall feel sharp vengeance +soon o’ertake his sins,<br />Be stopped in vials, or transfixed +with pins;<br />Or plunged in lakes of bitter washes lie,<br />Or wedged +whole ages in a bodkin’s eye:<br />Gums and pomatums shall his +flight restrain,<br />While clogged he beats his silken wings in vain;<br />Or +alum styptics with contracting power<br />Shrink his thin essence like +a rivelled flower;<br />Or, as Ixion fixed, the wretch shall feel<br />The +giddy motion of the whirling mill,<br />In fumes of burning chocolate +shall glow,<br />And tremble at the sea that froths below!”</p> +<p> He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend;<br />Some, +orb in orb, around the nymph extend;<br />Some thrid the mazy ringlets +of her hair;<br />Some hang upon the pendants of her ear:<br />With +beating hearts the dire event they wait,<br />Anxious and trembling, +for the birth of Fate.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>CANTO III.</p> +<p>Close by those meads, for ever crowned with flowers,<br />Where Thames +with pride surveys his rising towers,<br />There stands a structure +of majestic frame,<br />Which from the neighbouring Hampton takes its +name.<br />Here Britain’s statesmen oft the fall foredoom<br />Of +foreign tyrants and of nymphs at home;<br />Here thou, great Anna! whom +three realms obey,<br />Dost sometimes counsel take - and sometimes +tea.</p> +<p> Hither the heroes and the nymphs resort,<br />To taste +awhile the pleasures of a court;<br />In various talk the instructive +hours they passed,<br />Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last;<br />One +speaks the glory of the British Queen,<br />And one describes a charming +Indian screen;<br />A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes;<br />At +every word a reputation dies.<br />Snuff, or the fan, supply each pause +of chat,<br />With singing, laughing, ogling, <i>and all that</i>.</p> +<p> Meanwhile, declining from the noon of day,<br />The sun +obliquely shoots his burning ray;<br />The hungry judges soon the sentence +sign,<br />And wretches hang that jurymen may dine;<br />The merchant +from the Exchange returns in peace,<br />And the long labours of the +toilet cease.<br />Belinda now whom thirst of fame invites,<br />Burns +to encounter two adventurous knights,<br />At Ombre singly to decide +their doom; <a name="citation125"></a><a href="#footnote125">{125}</a><br />And +swells her breast with conquests yet to come.<br />Straight the three +bands prepare in arms to join,<br />Each band the number of the sacred +nine.<br />Soon as she spreads her hand, the aerial guard<br />Descend, +and sit on each important card:<br />First Ariel, perched upon a Matador,<br />Then +each, according to the rank they bore;<br />For sylphs, yet mindful +of their ancient race,<br />Are, as when women, wondrous fond of place.</p> +<p> Behold, four Kings in majesty revered,<br />With hoary +whiskers and a forky beard;<br />And four fair Queens whose hands sustain +a flower,<br />The expressive emblem of their softer power;<br />Four +Knaves in garbs succinct, a trusty band,<br />Caps on their heads, and +halberts in their hand;<br />And particoloured troops, a shining train,<br />Draw +forth to combat on the velvet plain.</p> +<p> The skilful Nymph reviews her force with care:<br />“Let +Spades be trumps!” she said, and trumps they were.</p> +<p> Now move to war her sable Matadores,<br />In show like +leaders of the swarthy Moors.<br />Spadillio first, unconquerable lord,<br />Led +off two captive trumps, and swept the board.<br />As many more Manillio +forced to yield,<br />And marched a victor from the verdant field.<br />Him +Basto followed, but his fate more hard<br />Gained but one trump and +one plebeian card.<br />With his broad sabre next, a chief in years,<br />The +hoary Majesty of Spades appears,<br />Puts forth one manly leg, to sight +revealed,<br />The rest, his many-coloured robe concealed.<br />The +rebel Knave, who dares his prince engage,<br />Proves the just victim +of his royal rage.<br />Even mighty Pam, that Kings and Queens o’erthrew +<a name="citation126"></a><a href="#footnote126">{126}</a><br />And +mowed down armies in the fights of Lu,<br />Sad chance of war! now destitute +of aid,<br />Falls undistinguished by the victor Spade!</p> +<p> Thus far both armies to Belinda yield;<br />Now to the +Baron fate inclines the field.<br />His warlike Amazon her host invades,<br />Th’ +imperial consort of the crown of Spades.<br />The Club’s black +tyrant first her victim died,<br />Spite of his haughty mien, and barbarous +pride;<br />What boots the regal circle on his head,<br />His giant +limbs, in state unwieldy spread;<br />That long behind he trails his +pompous robe,<br />And, of all monarchs, only grasps the globe?</p> +<p> The Baron now his Diamonds pours apace;<br />The embroidered +King who shows but half his face,<br />And his refulgent Queen, with +powers combined<br />Of broken troops an easy conquest find.<br />Clubs, +Diamonds, Hearts, in wild disorder seen,<br />With throngs promiscuous +strow the level green.<br />Thus when dispersed a routed army runs,<br />Of +Asia’s troops, and Afric’s sable sons,<br />With like confusion +different nations fly,<br />Of various habit, and of various dye,<br />The +pierced battalions disunited fall,<br />In heaps on heaps; one fate +o’erwhelms them all.</p> +<p> The Knave of Diamonds tries his wily arts,<br />And wins +(oh shameful chance!) the Queen of Hearts.<br />At this, the blood the +virgin’s cheek forsook,<br />A livid paleness spreads o’er +all her look;<br />She sees, and trembles at th’ approaching ill,<br />Just +in the jaws of ruin, and codille.<br />And now (as oft in some distempered +State)<br />On one nice trick depends the general fate.<br />An Ace +of Hearts steps forth: the King unseen<br />Lurked in her hand, and +mourned his captive Queen:<br />He springs to vengeance with an eager +pace,<br />And falls like thunder on the prostrate Ace.<br />The nymph +exulting fills with shouts the sky;<br />The walls, the woods, and long +canals reply.</p> +<p> Oh thoughtless mortals, ever blind to fate,<br />Too +soon dejected, and too soon elate!<br />Sudden, these honours shall +be snatched away,<br />And cursed for ever this victorious day.</p> +<p> For lo, the board with cups and spoons is crowned,<br />The +berries crackle, and the mill turns round;<br />On shining altars of +Japan they raise<br />The silver lamp; the fiery spirits blaze:<br />From +silver spouts the grateful liquors glide,<br />While China’s earth +receives the smoking tide:<br />At once they gratify their scent and +taste,<br />And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.<br />Straight +hover round the Fair her airy band;<br />Some, as she sipped, the fuming +liquor fanned,<br />Some o’er her lap their careful plumes displayed,<br />Trembling, +and conscious of the rich brocade.<br />Coffee (which makes the politician +wise,<br />And see through all things with his half-shut eyes)<br />Sent +up in vapours to the Baron’s brain<br />New stratagems the radiant +Lock to gain.<br />Ah cease, rash youth! desist ere ’tis too late,<br />Fear +the just Gods, and think of Scylla’s fate!<br />Changed to a bird, +and sent to flit in air,<br />She dearly pays for Nisus’ injured +hair!</p> +<p> But when to mischief mortals bend their will,<br />How +soon they find fit instruments of ill!<br />Just then, Clarissa drew +with tempting grace<br />A two-edged weapon from her shining case:<br />So +ladies in romance assist their knight,<br />Present the spear, and arm +him for the fight.<br />He takes the gift with reverence, and extends<br />The +little engine on his fingers’ ends;<br />This just behind Belinda’s +neck he spread,<br />As o’er the fragrant steams she bends her +head.<br />Swift to the lock a thousand sprites repair,<br />A thousand +wings, by turns, blow back the hair;<br />And thrice they twitched the +diamond in her ear;<br />Thrice she looked back, and thrice the foe +drew near.<br />Just in that instant, anxious Ariel sought<br />The +close recesses of the virgin’s thought;<br />As on the nosegay +in her breast reclined,<br />He watched the ideas rising in her mind,<br />Sudden +he viewed, in spite of all her art,<br />An earthly lover lurking at +her heart.<br />Amazed, confused, he found his power expired,<br />Resigned +to fate, and with a sigh retired.</p> +<p> The peer now spreads the glittering forfex wide,<br />To +inclose the lock; now joins it, to divide.<br />Even then, before the +fatal engine closed,<br />A wretched sylph too fondly interposed;<br />Fate +urged the shears, and cut the sylph in twain<br />(But airy substance +soon unites again),<br />The meeting points the sacred hair dissever<br />From +the fair head, for ever, and for ever!</p> +<p> Then flashed the living lightning from her eyes,<br />And +screams of horror rend the affrighted skies.<br />Not louder shrieks +to pitying heaven are cast,<br />When husbands or when lapdogs breathe +their last;<br />Or when rich china vessels fallen from high,<br />In +glittering dust and painted fragments lie!</p> +<p> “Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine,”<br />The +victor cried, “the glorious prize is mine!<br />While fish in +streams, or birds delight in air,<br />Or in a coach-and-six the British +fair,<br />As long as Atalantis shall be read, <a name="citation129"></a><a href="#footnote129">{129}</a><br />Or +the small pillow grace a lady’s bed,<br />While visits shall be +paid on solemn days,<br />When numerous wax-lights in bright order blaze,<br />While +nymphs take treats, or assignations give,<br />So long my honour, name, +and praise shall live!<br />What time would spare, from steel receives +its date,<br />And monuments, like men, submit to fate!<br />Steel could +the labour of the gods destroy,<br />And strike to dust th’ imperial +towers of Troy;<br />Steel could the works of mortal pride confound,<br />And +hew triumphal arches to the ground.<br />What wonder then, fair nymph! +thy hairs should feel<br />The conquering force of unresisting steel?</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>CANTO IV.</p> +<p>But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppressed,<br />And secret passions +laboured in her breast.<br />Not youthful kings in battle seized alive,<br />Not +scornful virgins who their charms survive,<br />Not ardent lovers robbed +of all their bliss,<br />Not ancient ladies when refused a kiss,<br />Not +tyrants fierce that unrepenting die,<br />Not Cynthia when her manteau’s +pinned awry,<br />E’er felt such rage, resentment, and despair,<br />As +thou, sad virgin! for thy ravished hair.</p> +<p> For that sad moment when the sylphs withdrew.<br />And +Ariel weeping from Belinda flew,<br />Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite,<br />As +ever sullied the fair face of light,<br />Down to the central earth, +his proper scene,<br />Repaired to search the gloomy cave of Spleen.</p> +<p> Swift on his sooty pinions flits the gnome,<br />And +in a vapour reached the dismal dome.<br />No cheerful breeze this sullen +region knows,<br />The dreaded east is all the wind that blows.<br />Here +in a grotto, sheltered close from air,<br />And screened in shades from +day’s detested glare,<br />She sighs for ever on her pensive bed,<br />Pain +at her side, and Megrim at her head. <a name="citation130"></a><a href="#footnote130">{130}</a></p> +<p> Two handmaids wait the throne: alike in place,<br />But +differing far in figure and in face.<br />Here stood Ill-nature like +an ancient maid,<br />Her wrinkled form in black and white arrayed;<br />With +store of prayers, for mornings, nights, and noons,<br />Her hand is +filled; her bosom with lampoons.</p> +<p> There Affectation, with a sickly mien,<br />Shows in +her cheek the roses of eighteen,<br />Practised to lisp, and hang the +head aside,<br />Faints into airs, and languishes with pride,<br />On +the rich quilt sinks with becoming woe,<br />Wrapped in a gown, for +sickness, and for show.<br />The fair ones feel such maladies as these,<br />When +each new night-dress gives a new disease.<br />A constant vapour o’er +the palace flies;<br />Strange phantoms rising as the mists arise;<br />Dreadful +as hermit’s dreams in haunted shades,<br />Or bright as visions +of expiring maids.<br />Now glaring fiends, and snakes on rolling spires,<br />Pale +spectres, gaping tombs, and purple fires:<br />Now lakes of liquid gold, +Elysian scenes,<br />And crystal domes and angels in machines.</p> +<p> Unnumbered throngs on every side are seen,<br />Of bodies +changed to various forms by Spleen.<br />Here living tea-pots stand, +one arm held out,<br />One bent; the handle this, and that the spout:<br />A +pipkin there, like Homer’s tripod walks;<br />Here sighs a jar, +and there a goose-pie talks;<br />Men prove with child, as powerful +fancy works,<br />And maids turned bottles call aloud for corks.</p> +<p> Safe past the Gnome, through this fantastic band,<br />A +branch of healing spleenwort in his hand.<br />Then thus addressed the +power: “Hail, wayward Queen!<br />Who rule the sex to fifty from +fifteen:<br />Parent of vapours and of female wit,<br />Who give the +hysteric, or poetic fit,<br />On various tempers act by various ways,<br />Make +some take physic, others scribble plays;<br />Who cause the proud their +visits to delay,<br />And send the godly in a pet to pray.<br />A nymph +there is, that all thy power disdains,<br />And thousands more in equal +mirth maintains.<br />But oh! if e’er thy gnome could spoil a +grace,<br />Or raise a pimple on a beauteous face,<br />Like citron-waters +matrons’ cheeks inflame,<br />Or change complexions at a losing +game;<br />If e’er with airy horns I planted heads,<br />Or rumpled +petticoats, or tumbled beds,<br />Or caused suspicion when no soul was +rude,<br />Or discomposed the head-dress of a prude,<br />Or e’er +to costive lapdog gave disease,<br />Which not the tears of brightest +eyes could ease:<br />Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin,<br />That +single act gives half the world the spleen.”</p> +<p> The Goddess with a discontented air<br />Seems to reject +him, though she grants his prayer.<br />A wondrous bag with both her +hands she binds,<br />Like that where once Ulysses held the winds;<br />There +she collects the force of female lungs,<br />Sighs, sobs, and passions, +and the war of tongues.<br />A vial next she fills with fainting fears,<br />Soft +sorrows, melting griefs, and flowing tears.<br />The gnome rejoicing +bears her gifts away,<br />Spreads his black wings, and slowly mounts +to day.</p> +<p> Sunk in Thalestris’ arms the nymph he found,<br />Her +eyes dejected and her hair unbound.<br />Full o’er their heads +the swelling bag he rent,<br />And all the Furies issued at the vent.<br />Belinda +burns with more than mortal ire,<br />And fierce Thalestris fans the +rising fire.<br />“O wretched maid!” she spread her hands, +and cried,<br />(While Hampton’s echoes, “Wretched maid!” +replied)<br />“Was it for this you took such constant care<br />The +bodkin, comb, and essence to prepare?<br />For this your locks in paper +durance bound,<br />For this with torturing irons wreathed around?<br />For +this with fillets strained your tender head,<br />And bravely bore the +double loads of lead?<br />Gods! shall the ravisher display your hair,<br />While +the fops envy, and the ladies stare!<br />Honour forbid! at whose unrivalled +shrine<br />Ease, pleasure, virtue, all our sex resign.<br />Methinks +already I your tears survey,<br />Already hear the horrid things they +say,<br />Already see you a degraded toast,<br />And all your honour +in a whisper lost!<br />How shall I, then, your helpless fame defend?<br />’Twill +then be infamy to seem your friend!<br />And shall this prize, the inestimable +prize,<br />Exposed through crystal to the gazing eyes,<br />And heightened +by the diamond’s circling rays,<br />On that rapacious hand for +ever blaze?<br />Sooner shall grass in Hyde Park Circus grow,<br />And +wits take lodgings in the sound of Bow;<br />Sooner let earth, air, +sea, to chaos fall,<br />Men, monkeys, lap-dogs, parrots, perish all!”</p> +<p> She said; then raging to Sir Plume repairs,<br />And +bids her beau demand the precious hairs:<br />(Sir Plume of amber snuff-box +justly vain,<br />And the nice conduct of a clouded cane)<br />With +earnest eyes, and round unthinking face,<br />He first the snuff-box +opened, then the case,<br />And thus broke out - “My Lord, why +what the devil?<br />Zounds! damn the lock! ’fore Gad, you must +be civil!<br />Plague on’t! ’tis past a jest - nay prithee, +pox!<br />Give her the hair” - he spoke, and rapped his box.</p> +<p> “It grieves me much” (replied the Peer again)<br />“Who +speaks so well should ever speak in vain.<br />But by this lock, this +sacred lock, I swear,<br />(Which never more shall join its parted hair;<br />Which +never more its honours shall renew,<br />Clipped from the lovely head +where late it grew)<br />That while my nostrils draw the vital air,<br />This +hand, which won it, shall for ever wear.”<br />He spoke, and speaking, +in proud triumph spread<br />The long-contended honours of her head.</p> +<p> But Umbriel, hateful gnome! forbears not so;<br />He +breaks the vial whence the sorrows flow.<br />Then see! the nymph in +beauteous grief appears,<br />Her eyes half-languishing, half-drowned +in tears;<br />On her heaved bosom hung her drooping head,<br />Which, +with a sigh, she raised; and thus she said:</p> +<p> “For ever cursed be this detested day,<br />Which +snatched my best, my favourite curl away!<br />Happy! ah, ten times +happy had I been,<br />If Hampton Court these eyes had never seen!<br />Yet +am not I the first mistaken maid,<br />By love of courts to numerous +ills betrayed.<br />Oh had I rather unadmired remained<br />In some +lone isle, or distant Northern land,<br />Where the gilt chariot never +marks the way,<br />Where none learn ombre, none e’er taste Bohea;<br />There +kept my charms concealed from mortal eye,<br />Like roses that in deserts +bloom and die!<br />What moved my mind with youthful lords to roam?<br />Oh +had I stayed, and said my prayers at home!<br />’Twas this, the +morning omens seemed to tell,<br />Thrice from my trembling hand the +patch-box fell;<br />The tottering china shook without a wind,<br />Nay, +Poll sat mute, and Shock was most unkind!<br />A sylph, too, warned +me of the threats of fate,<br />In mystic visions, now believed too +late!<br />See the poor remnants of these slighted hairs!<br />My hands +shall rend what even thy rapine spares:<br />These in two sable ringlets +taught to break,<br />Once gave new beauties to the snowy neck;<br />The +sister-lock now sits uncouth, alone,<br />And in its fellow’s +fate foresees its own;<br />Uncurled it hangs, the fatal shears demands,<br />And +tempts once more thy sacrilegious hands.<br />Oh hadst thou, cruel! +been content to seize<br />Hairs less in sight, or any hairs but these!”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>CANTO V.</p> +<p>She said: the pitying audience melt in tears.<br />But Fate and Jove +had stopped the Baron’s ears.<br />In vain Thalestris with reproach +assails,<br />For who can move when fair Belinda fails?<br />Not half +so fixed the Trojan could remain,<br />While Anna begged and Dido raged +in vain.<br />Then grave Clarissa graceful waved her fan;<br />Silence +ensued, and thus the nymph began:</p> +<p> “Say why are beauties praised and honoured most,<br />The +wise man’s passion, and the vain man’s toast?<br />Why decked +with all that land and sea afford,<br />Why angels called, and angel-like +adored?<br />Why round our coaches crowd the white-gloved beaux,<br />Why +bows the side-box from its inmost rows;<br />How vain are all these +glories, all our pains,<br />Unless good sense preserve what beauty +gains:<br />That men may say, when we the front-box grace:<br />‘Behold +the first in virtue as in face!’<br />Oh! if to dance all night, +and dress all day,<br />Charmed the smallpox, or chased old age away,<br />Who +would not scorn what housewife’s cares produce,<br />Or who would +learn one earthly thing of use?<br />To patch, nay ogle, might become +a saint,<br />Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.<br />But since, +alas! frail beauty must decay;<br />Curled or uncurled, since locks +will turn to grey;<br />Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade,<br />And +she who scorns a man, must die a maid;<br />What then remains but well +our power to use,<br />And keep good-humour still whate’er we +lose?<br />And trust me, dear! good-humour can prevail,<br />When airs, +and flights, and screams, and scolding fail.<br />Beauties in vain their +pretty eyes may roll;<br />Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the +soul.”</p> +<p> So spoke the dame, but no applause ensued;<br />Belinda +frowned, Thalestris called her Prude.<br />“To arms, to arms!” +the fierce virago cries,<br />And swift as lightning to the combat flies.<br />All +side in parties, and begin the attack;<br />Fans clap, silks rustle, +and tough whalebones crack;<br />Heroes’ and heroines’ shouts +confusedly rise,<br />And bass and treble voices strike the skies.<br />No +common weapons in their hands are found,<br />Like gods they fight, +nor dread a mortal wound.</p> +<p> So when bold Homer makes the gods engage,<br />And heavenly +breasts with human passions rage;<br />’Gainst Pallas, Mars; Latona, +Hermes arms;<br />And all Olympus rings with loud alarms:<br />Jove’s +thunder roars, heaven trembles all around,<br />Blue Neptune storms, +the bellowing deeps resound,<br />Earth shakes her nodding towers, the +ground gives way,<br />And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day!</p> +<p> Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce’s height<br />Clapped +his glad wings, and sate to view the fight;<br />Propped on their bodkin +spears, the sprites survey<br />The growing combat, or assist the fray.</p> +<p> While through the press enraged Thalestris flies,<br />And +scatters death around from both her eyes,<br />A beau and witling perished +in the throng,<br />One died in metaphor, and one in song.</p> +<p> “O cruel nymph! a living death I bear,”<br />Cried +Dapperwit, and sunk beside his chair.<br />A mournful glance Sir Fopling +upwards cast,<br />“Those eyes are made so killing” - was +his last.<br />Thus on Mæander’s flowery margin lies<br />The +expiring swan, and as he sings he dies.</p> +<p> When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down,<br />Chloe +stepped in, and killed him with a frown;<br />She smiled to see the +doughty hero slain,<br />But, at her smile, the beau revived again.</p> +<p> Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air,<br />Weighs +the men’s wits against the ladies’ hair;<br />The doubtful +beam long nods from side to side;<br />At length the wits mount up, +the hairs subside.</p> +<p> See, fierce Belinda on the Baron flies,<br />With more +than usual lightning in her eyes:<br />Nor feared the chief the unequal +fight to try,<br />Who sought no more than on his foe to die.<br />But +this bold lord with manly strength endued,<br />She with one finger +and a thumb subdued:<br />Just where the breath of life his nostrils +drew,<br />A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw;<br />The gnomes +direct, to every atom just,<br />The pungent grains of titillating dust.<br />Sudden, +with starting tears each eye o’erflows,<br />And the high dome +re-echoes to his nose.</p> +<p> “Now meet thy fate,” incensed Belinda cried,<br />And +drew a deadly bodkin from her side.<br />(The same, his ancient personage +to deck,<br />Her great-great-grandsire wore about his neck,<br />In +three seal-rings; which after, melted down,<br />Formed a vast buckle +for his widow’s gown;<br />Her infant grandame’s whistle +next it grew,<br />The bells she jingled, and the whistle blew;<br />Then +in a bodkin graced her mother’s hairs,<br />Which long she wore, +and now Belinda wears).</p> +<p> “Boast not my fall,” he cried, “insulting +foe!<br />Thou by some other shalt be laid as low,<br />Nor think to +die dejects my lofty mind:<br />All that I dread is leaving you behind!<br />Rather +than so, ah! let me still survive,<br />And burn in Cupid’s flames +- but burn alive.”</p> +<p> “Restore the lock!” she cries; and all around<br />“Restore +the lock!” the vaulted roofs rebound.<br />Not fierce Othello +in so loud a strain<br />Roared for the handkerchief that caused his +pain.<br />But see how oft ambitious aims are crossed,<br />And chiefs +contend till all the prize is lost!<br />The lock, obtained with guilt, +and kept with pain,<br />In every place is sought, but sought in vain:<br />With +such a prize no mortal must be blest,<br />So Heaven decrees: with Heaven +who can contest?</p> +<p> Some thought it mounted to the lunar sphere,<br />Since +all things lost on earth are treasured there,<br />There heroes’ +wits are kept in ponderous vases,<br />And beaux’ in snuff-boxes +and tweezer-cases.<br />There broken vows and death-bed alms are found,<br />And +lovers’ hearts with ends of riband bound,<br />The courtiers promises, +and sick man’s prayers,<br />The smiles of harlots, and the tears +of heirs,<br />Cages for gnats, and chains to yoke a flea,<br />Dried +butterflies and tomes of casuistry.</p> +<p> But trust the Muse - she saw it upward rise,<br />Though +marked by none but quick, poetic eyes:<br />(So Rome’s great founder +to the heavens withdrew,<br />To Proculus alone confessed in view)<br />A +sudden star, it shot through liquid air,<br />And drew behind a radiant +trail of hair.<br />Not Berenice’s locks first rose so bright,<br />The +heavens bespangling with dishevelled light.<br />The sylphs behold it +kindling as it flies,<br />And pleased pursue its progress through the +skies.</p> +<p> This the beau-monde shall from the Mall survey,<br />And +hail with music its propitious ray.<br />This the blest lover shall +for Venus take,<br />And send up vows from Rosamonda’s lake.<br />This +Partridge soon shall view in cloudless skies, <a name="citation137"></a><a href="#footnote137">{137}</a><br />When +next he looks through Galileo’s eyes;<br />And hence the egregious +wizard shall foredoom<br />The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome.</p> +<p> Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravished hair,<br />Which +adds new glory to the shining sphere!<br />Not all the tresses that +fair head can boast,<br />Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost.<br />For, +after all the murders of your eye,<br />When, after millions slain, +yourself shall die:<br />When those fair suns shall set, as set they +must,<br />And all those tresses shall be laid in dust,<br />This lock +the Muse shall consecrate to fame,<br />And ’midst the stars inscribe +Belinda’s name.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN:<br /><i>SHOWING HOW HE WENT +FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN.</i></h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>BY WILLIAM COWPER.</p> +<p>John Gilpin was a citizen<br /> Of credit and renown,<br />A +train-band captain eke was he<br /> Of famous London town.</p> +<p>John Gilpin’s spouse said to her dear,<br /> “Though +wedded we have been<br />These twice ten tedious years, yet we<br /> No +holiday have seen.</p> +<p>“To-morrow is our wedding-day,<br /> And we will +then repair<br />Unto the Bell at Edmonton,<br /> All in +a chaise and pair.</p> +<p>“My sister, and my sister’s child,<br /> Myself, +and children three,<br />Will fill the chaise; so you must ride<br /> On +horseback after we.”</p> +<p>He soon replied, “I do admire<br /> Of womankind +but one,<br />And you are she, my dearest dear,<br /> Therefore +it shall be done.</p> +<p>“I am a linen-draper bold,<br /> As all the world +doth know,<br />And my good friend the calender<br /> Will +lend his horse to go.”</p> +<p>Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, “That’s well said:<br /> And +for that wine is dear,<br />We will be furnished with our own,<br /> Which +is both bright and clear.”</p> +<p>John Gilpin kissed his loving wife;<br /> O’erjoyed +was he to find,<br />That though on pleasure she was bent,<br /> She +had a frugal mind.</p> +<p>The morning came, the chaise was brought,<br /> But yet +was not allowed<br />To drive up to the door, lest all<br /> Should +say that she was proud.</p> +<p>So three doors off the chaise was stayed,<br /> Where +they did all get in;<br />Six precious souls, and all agog<br /> To +dash through thick and thin.</p> +<p>Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,<br /> Were +never folk so glad,<br />The stones did rattle underneath,<br /> As +if Cheapside were mad.</p> +<p>John Gilpin at his horse’s side<br /> Seized fast +the flowing mane,<br />And up he got, in haste to ride,<br /> But +soon came down again;</p> +<p>For saddle-tree scarce reached had he,<br /> His journey +to begin,<br />When, turning round his head, he saw<br /> Three +customers come in.</p> +<p>So down he came; for loss of time,<br /> Although it grieved +him sore,<br />Yet loss of pence, full well he knew,<br /> Would +trouble him much more.</p> +<p>’Twas long before the customers<br /> Were suited +to their mind,<br />When Betty screaming came downstairs,<br /> “The +wine is left behind!”</p> +<p>“Good lack!” quoth he - “yet bring it me,<br /> My +leathern belt likewise,<br />In which I bear my trusty sword,<br /> When +I do exercise.”</p> +<p>Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul!)<br /> Had two stone +bottles found,<br />To hold the liquor that she loved,<br /> And +keep it safe and sound.</p> +<p>Each bottle had a curling ear,<br /> Through which the +belt he drew,<br />And hung a bottle on each side,<br /> To +make his balance true.</p> +<p>Then over all, that he might be<br /> Equipped from top +to toe,<br />His long red cloak, well brushed and neat,<br /> He +manfully did throw.</p> +<p>Now see him mounted once again<br /> Upon his nimble steed,<br />Full +slowly pacing o’er the stones,<br /> With caution and +good heed.</p> +<p>But finding soon a smoother road<br /> Beneath his well-shod +feet,<br />The snorting beast began to trot,<br /> Which +galled him in his seat.</p> +<p>So, “Fair and softly,” John he cried,<br /> But +John he cried in vain;<br />That trot became a gallop soon,<br /> In +spite of curb and rein.</p> +<p>So stooping down, as needs he must<br /> Who cannot sit +upright,<br />He grasped the mane with both his hands,<br /> And +eke with all his might.</p> +<p>His horse, who never in that sort<br /> Had handled been +before,<br />What thing upon his back had got<br /> Did wonder +more and more.</p> +<p>Away went Gilpin, neck or nought;<br /> Away went hat +and wig;<br />He little dreamt, when he set out,<br /> Of +running such a rig.</p> +<p>The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,<br /> Like streamer +long and gay,<br />Till, loop and button failing both,<br /> At +last it flew away.</p> +<p>Then might all people well discern<br /> The bottles he +had slung;<br />A bottle swinging at each side,<br /> As +hath been said or sung.</p> +<p>The dogs did bark, the children screamed,<br /> Up flew +the windows all;<br />And every soul cried out, “Well done!”<br /> As +loud as he could bawl.</p> +<p>Away went Gilpin - who but he?<br /> His fame soon spread +around;<br />“He carries weight!” “He rides +a race!”<br /> “’Tis for a thousand pound!”</p> +<p>And still, as fast as he drew near,<br /> ’Twas +wonderful to view,<br />How in a trice the turnpike-men<br /> Their +gates wide open threw.</p> +<p>And now, as he went bowing down<br /> His reeking head +full low,<br />The bottles twain behind his back<br /> Were +shattered at a blow.</p> +<p>Down ran the wine into the road,<br /> Most piteous to +be seen,<br />Which made his horse’s flanks to smoke<br /> As +they had basted been.</p> +<p>But still be seemed to carry weight,<br /> With leathern +girdle braced;<br />For all might see the bottle-necks<br /> Still +dangling at his waist.</p> +<p>Thus all through merry Islington<br /> These gambols he +did play,<br />Until he came unto the Wash<br /> Of Edmonton +so gay;</p> +<p>And there he threw the Wash about<br /> On both sides +of the way,<br />Just like unto a trundling mop,<br /> Or +a wild goose at play.</p> +<p>At Edmonton his loving wife<br /> From the balcóny +spied<br />Her tender husband, wondering much<br /> To see +how he did ride.</p> +<p>“Stop, stop, John Gilpin! - Here’s the house!”<br /> They +all at once did cry;<br />“The dinner waits, and we are tired;”<br /> Said +Gilpin - “So am I!”</p> +<p>But yet his horse was not a whit<br /> Inclined to tarry +there!<br />For why? - his owner had a house<br /> Full ten +miles off, at Ware.</p> +<p>So like an arrow swift he flew,<br /> Shot by an archer +strong;<br />So did he fly - which brings me to<br /> The +middle of my song.</p> +<p>Away went Gilpin, out of breath,<br /> And sore against +his will,<br />Till at his friend the calender’s<br /> His +horse at last stood still.</p> +<p>The calender, amazed to see<br /> His neighbour in such +trim,<br />Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,<br /> And +thus accosted him:</p> +<p>“What news? what news? your tidings tell!<br /> Tell +me you must and shall -<br />Say why bareheaded you are come,<br /> Or +why you come at all?”</p> +<p>Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,<br /> And loved a timely +joke;<br />And thus unto the calender<br /> In merry guise +he spoke:</p> +<p>“I came because your horse would come,<br /> And, +if I well forbode,<br />My hat and wig will soon be here -<br /> They +are upon the road.”</p> +<p>The calender, right glad to find<br /> His friend in merry +pin,<br />Returned him not a single word,<br /> But to the +house went in;</p> +<p>Whence straight he came with hat and wig;<br /> A wig +that flowed behind,<br />A hat not much the worse for wear,<br /> Each +comely in its kind.</p> +<p>He held them up, and in his turn<br /> Thus showed his +ready wit,<br />“My head is twice as big as yours,<br /> They +therefore needs must fit.</p> +<p>“But let me scrape the dirt away<br /> That hangs +upon your face;<br />And stop and eat, for well you may<br /> Be +in a hungry case.”</p> +<p>Said John, “It is my wedding-day,<br /> And all +the world would stare,<br />If wife should dine at Edmonton,<br /> And +I should dine at Ware.”</p> +<p>So turning to his horse, he said,<br /> “I am in +haste to dine;<br />’Twas for your pleasure you came here,<br /> You +shall go back for mine.”</p> +<p>Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast!<br /> For which +he paid full dear;<br />For, while he spake, a braying ass<br /> Did +sing most loud and clear;</p> +<p>Whereat his horse did snort, as he<br /> Had heard a lion +roar,<br />And galloped off with all his might,<br /> As +he had done before.</p> +<p>Away went Gilpin, and away<br /> Went Gilpin’s hat +and wig:<br />He lost them sooner than at first;<br /> For +why? - they were too big.</p> +<p>Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw<br /> Her husband posting +down<br />Into the country far away,<br /> She pulled out +half-a-crown;</p> +<p>And thus unto the youth she said<br /> That drove them +to the Bell,<br />“This shall be yours, when you bring back<br /> My +husband safe and well.”</p> +<p>The youth did ride, and soon did meet<br /> John coming +back amain:<br />Whom in a trice he tried to stop,<br /> By +catching at his rein;</p> +<p>But not performing what he meant,<br /> And gladly would +have done,<br />The frighted steed he frighted more<br /> And +made him faster run.</p> +<p>Away went Gilpin, and away<br /> Went postboy at his heels,<br />The +postboy’s horse right glad to miss<br /> The lumbering +of the wheels.</p> +<p>Six gentlemen upon the road,<br /> Thus seeing Gilpin +fly,<br />With postboy scampering in the rear,<br /> They +raised the hue and cry:</p> +<p>“Stop thief! stop thief! - a highwayman!”<br /> Not +one of them was mute;<br />And all and each that passed that way<br /> Did +join in the pursuit.</p> +<p>And now the turnpike gates again<br /> Flew open in short +space;<br />The toll-men thinking, as before,<br /> That +Gilpin rode a race.</p> +<p>And so he did, and won it too,<br /> For he got first +to town;<br />Nor stopped till where he had got up<br /> He +did again get down.</p> +<p>Now let us sing, Long live the king!<br /> And Gilpin, +long live he!<br />And when he next doth ride abroad<br /> May +I be there to see!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>TAM O’SHANTER: A TALE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>BY ROBERT BURNS.</p> +<p><i> “Of brownyis and of bogilis +full is this buke.”<br /></i> - +GAWIN DOUGLAS.</p> +<p>When chapman billies leave the street, + <a name="citation147a"></a><a href="#footnote147a">{147a}</a><br />And +drouthy neibors neibors meet, + <a name="citation147b"></a><a href="#footnote147b">{147b}</a><br />As +market days are wearin’ late,<br />And folk begin to tak the gate; + <a name="citation147h"></a><a href="#footnote147h">{147h}</a><br />While +we sit bousing at the nappy,<br />And gettin’ fou and unco’ +happy, <a name="citation147c"></a><a href="#footnote147c">{147c}</a><br />We +think na on the lang Scots miles,<br />The mosses, waters, slaps, and +stiles, <a name="citation147d"></a><a href="#footnote147d">{147d}</a><br />That +lie between us and our hame,<br />Whare sits our sulky sullen dame,<br />Gathering +her brows like gathering storm,<br />Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.</p> +<p>This truth fand honest Tam o’ Shanter,<br />As he frae Ayr +ae night did canter,<br />(Auld Ayr, wham ne’er a town surpasses<br />For +honest men and bonny lasses.)</p> +<p>O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise<br />As ta’en thy ain wife +Kate’s advice!<br />She tauld thee weel thou wast a skellum, + <a name="citation147e"></a><a href="#footnote147e">{147e}</a><br />A +blethering, blustering, drunken blellum; <a name="citation147f"></a><a href="#footnote147f">{147f}</a><br />That +frae November till October,<br />Ae market day thou wasna sober;<br />That +ilka melder, wi’ the miller + <a name="citation147g"></a><a href="#footnote147g">{147g}</a> +<a name="citation147i"></a><a href="#footnote147i">{147i}</a><br />Thou +sat as lang as thou hadst siller;<br />That every naig was ca’d +a shoe on,<br />The smith and thee gat roaring fou on;<br />That at +the Lord’s house, even on Sunday,<br />Thou drank wi’ Kirkton +Jean till Monday. <a name="citation148f"></a><a href="#footnote148f">{148f}</a><br />She +prophesied that, late or soon,<br />Thou wouldst be found deep drowned +in Doon!<br />Or catched wi’ warlocks i’ the mirk, + <a name="citation148a"></a><a href="#footnote148a">{148a}</a><br />By +Alloway’s auld haunted kirk.</p> +<p>Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet + <a name="citation148b"></a><a href="#footnote148b">{148b}</a><br />To +think how mony counsels sweet,<br />How mony lengthened, sage advices,<br />The +husband frae the wife despises!</p> +<p>But to our tale:- Ae market night,<br />Tam had got planted unco +right.<br />Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, + <a name="citation148c"></a><a href="#footnote148c">{148c}</a><br />Wi’ +reaming swats, that drank divinely; <a name="citation148d"></a><a href="#footnote148d">{148d}</a><br />And +at his elbow, Souter Johnny,<br />His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony;<br />Tam +lo’ed him like a vera brither -<br />They had been fou for weeks +thegither!<br />The night drave on wi’ sangs and clatter,<br />And +aye the ale was growing better:<br />The landlady and Tam grew gracious,<br />Wi’ +favours secret, sweet, and precious;<br />The Souter tauld his queerest +stories,<br />The landlord’s laugh was ready chorus:<br />The +storm without might rair and rustle -<br />Tam didna mind the storm +a whistle.</p> +<p>Care, mad to see a man sae happy,<br />E’en drowned himsel +among the nappy! <a name="citation148e"></a><a href="#footnote148e">{148e}</a><br />As +bees flee hame wi’ lades o’ treasure,<br />The minutes winged +their way wi’ pleasure:<br />Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,<br />O’er +a’ the ills o’ life victorious!</p> +<p>But pleasures are like poppies spread,<br />You seize the flower, +its bloom is shed!<br />Or like the snowfall in the river,<br />A moment +white - then melts for ever;<br />Or like the borealis race,<br />That +flit ere you can point their place;<br />Or like the rainbow’s +lovely form,<br />Evanishing amid the storm.<br />Nae man can tether +time or tide;<br />The hour approaches, Tam maun ride;<br />That hour, +o’ night’s black arch the keystane,<br />That dreary hour +he mounts his beast in;<br />And sic a night he taks the road in<br />As +never poor sinner was abroad in.</p> +<p>The wind blew as ’twad blown its last;<br />The rattling showers +rose on the blast;<br />The speedy gleams the darkness swallowed;<br />Loud, +deep, and lang the thunder bellowed:<br />That night, a child might +understand<br />The deil had business on his hand.</p> +<p>Weel mounted on his grey mare, Meg,<br />A better never lifted leg,<br />Tam +skelpit on through dub and mire, +<a name="citation149a"></a><a href="#footnote149a">{149a}</a><br />Despising +wind, and rain, and fire;<br />Whiles holding fast his guid blue bonnet,<br />Whiles +crooning o’er some auld Scots sonnet;<br />Whiles glowering round +wi’ prudent cares,<br />Lest bogles catch him unawares:<br />Kirk-Alloway +was drawing nigh,<br />Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry.<br />By +this time he was ’cross the foord,<br />Whare in the snow the +chapman smoored, <a name="citation149b"></a><a href="#footnote149b">{149b}</a><br />And +past the birks and meikle stane<br />Whare drunken Charlie brak’s +neck-bane:<br />And through the whins, and by the cairn<br />Whare hunters +fand the murdered bairn;<br />And near the thorn, aboon the well,<br />Where +Mungo’s mither hanged hersel’.<br />Before him Doon pours +a’ his floods;<br />The doubling storm roars through the woods;<br />The +lightnings flash frae pole to pole;<br />Near and more near the thunders +roll;<br />When glimmering through the groaning trees,<br />Kirk-Alloway +seemed in a bleeze;<br />Through ilka bore the beams were glancing, + <a name="citation150h"></a><a href="#footnote150h">{150h}</a><br />And +loud resounded mirth and dancing.</p> +<p>Inspiring bold John Barleycorn!<br />What dangers thou canst mak +us scorn!<br />Wi’ tippenny, we fear nae evil:<br />Wi’ +usquebae, we’ll face the devil! -<br />The swats sae reamed in +Tammie’s noddle,<br />Fair play, he cared na deils a boddle. + <a name="citation150a"></a><a href="#footnote150a">{150a}</a><br />But +Maggie stood right sair astonished,<br />Till, by the heel and hand +admonished,<br />She ventured forward on the light;<br />And, wow! Tam +saw an unco sight!<br />Warlocks and witches in a dance;<br />Nae cotillon +brent-new frae France,<br />But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels,<br />Put +life and mettle i’ their heels:<br />At winnock-bunker, i’ +the east, +<a name="citation150b"></a><a href="#footnote150b">{150b}</a><br />There +sat auld Nick, in shape o’ beast,<br />A towzie tyke, black, grim, +and large, <a name="citation150c"></a><a href="#footnote150c">{150c}</a><br />To +gie them music was his charge;<br />He screwed the pipes, and gart them +skirl, <a name="citation150d"></a><a href="#footnote150d">{150d}</a><br />Till +roof and rafters a’ did dirl. + <a name="citation150e"></a><a href="#footnote150e">{150e}</a><br />Coffins +stood round, like open presses,<br />That shaw’d the dead in their +last dresses;<br />And by some devilish cantrip slight + <a name="citation150f"></a><a href="#footnote150f">{150f}</a><br />Each +in its cauld hand held a light, -<br />By which heroic Tam was able<br />To +note upon the haly table,<br />A murderer’s banes in gibbet airns;<br />Twa +span-lang, wee, unchristened bairns;<br />A thief, new-cutted frae a +rape,<br />Wi’ his last gasp his gab did gape; + <a name="citation150g"></a><a href="#footnote150g">{150g}</a><br />Five +tomahawks, wi’ bluid red-rusted:<br />Five scimitars, wi’ +murder crusted;<br />A garter, which a babe had strangled;<br />A knife, +a father’s throat had mangled,<br />Whom his ain son o’ +life bereft,<br />The grey hairs yet stack to the heft:<br />Wi’ +mair o’ horrible and awfu’,<br />Which even to name wad +be unlawfu’.</p> +<p>As Tammie glowered, amazed and curious,<br />The mirth and fun grew +fast and furious:<br />The piper loud and louder blew,<br />The dancers +quick and quicker flew;<br />They reeled, they set, they crossed, they +cleekit,<br />Till ilka carlin swat and reekit,<br />And coost her duddies +to the wark, +<a name="citation151a"></a><a href="#footnote151a">{151a}</a><br />And +linket at it in her sark. + <a name="citation151h"></a><a href="#footnote151h">{151h}</a> +<a name="citation151b"></a><a href="#footnote151b">{151b}</a></p> +<p>Now Tam! O Tam! had they been queans,<br />A’ plump and strappin’ +in their teens,<br />Their sarks, instead o’ creeshie flannen, + <a name="citation151c"></a><a href="#footnote151c">{151c}</a><br />Been +snaw-white seventeen hunder linnen!<br />Thir breeks o’ mine, +my only pair,<br />That ance were plush, o’ guid blue hair,<br />I +wad hae gien them aff my hurdies,<br />For ae blink o’ the bonny +burdies!</p> +<p>But withered beldams, auld and droll,<br />Rigwoodie hags, wad spean +a foal, <a name="citation151d"></a><a href="#footnote151d">{151d}</a> +<a name="citation151j"></a><a href="#footnote151j">{151j}</a><br />Lowpin’ +and flingin’ on a cummock, + <a name="citation151e"></a><a href="#footnote151e">{151e}</a><br />I +wonder didna turn thy stomach.</p> +<p>But Tam kenned what was what fu’ brawlie,<br />“There +was ae winsome wench and walie,” + <a name="citation151i"></a><a href="#footnote151i">{151i}</a><br />That +night enlisted in the core,<br />(Lang after kenned on Carrick shore;<br />For +mony a beast to dead she shot,<br />And perished mony a bonny boat,<br />And +shook baith meikle corn and bere,<br />And kept the country-side in +fear.)<br />Her cutty sark, o’ Paisley harn, + <a name="citation151f"></a><a href="#footnote151f">{151f}</a><br />That, +while a lassie, she had worn,<br />In longitude though sorely scanty,<br />It +was her best, and she was vauntie.</p> +<p>Ah! little kenn’d thy reverend grannie,<br />That sark she +coft for her wee Nannie, <a name="citation151g"></a><a href="#footnote151g">{151g}</a><br />Wi’ +twa pund Scots (’twas a’ her riches),<br />Wad ever graced +a dance o’ witches!<br />But here my Muse her wing maun cour,<br />Sic +flights are far beyond her power;<br />To sing how Nannie lap and flang,<br />(A +souple jade she was, and strang,)<br />And how Tam stood like ane bewitched,<br />And +thought his very een enriched;<br />Even Satan glowered, and fidged +fu’ fain,<br />And hotch’d and blew wi’ might and +main: <a name="citation152a"></a><a href="#footnote152a">{152a}</a><br />Till +first ae caper, syne anither,<br />Tam tint his reason a’thegither, + <a name="citation152b"></a><a href="#footnote152b">{152b}</a><br />And +roars out, “Weel done, Cutty-sark!”<br />And in an instant +a’ was dark:<br />And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,<br />When +out the hellish legion sallied.<br />As bees bizz out wi’ angry +fyke, <a name="citation152c"></a><a href="#footnote152c">{152c}</a><br />When +plundering herds assail their byke; <a name="citation152d"></a><a href="#footnote152d">{152d}</a><br />As +open pussie’s mortal foes,<br />When, pop! she starts before their +nose;<br />As eager runs the market-crowd,<br />When “Catch the +thief!” resounds aloud;<br />So Maggie runs, the witches follow,<br />Wi’ +mony an eldritch screech and hollow. <a name="citation152e"></a><a href="#footnote152e">{152e}</a></p> +<p>Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou’lt get thy fairin’!<br />In hell +they’ll roast thee like a herrin’!<br />In vain thy Kate +awaits thy comin’!<br />Kate soon will be a woefu’ woman!<br />Now, +do thy speedy utmost, Meg,<br />And win the keystane of the brig;<br />There +at them thou thy tail may toss,<br />A running stream they darena cross;<br />But +ere the keystane she could make,<br />The fient a tail she had to shake!<br />For +Nannie, far before the rest,<br />Hard upon noble Maggie prest,<br />And +flew at Tam wi’ furious ettle; + <a name="citation152f"></a><a href="#footnote152f">{152f}</a><br />But +little wist she Maggie’s mettle -<br />Ae spring brought off her +master hale,<br />But left behind her ain grey tail:<br />The carlin +claught her by the rump,<br />And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.</p> +<p>Now, wha this tale o’ truth shall read,<br />Ilk man and mother’s +son, take heed:<br />Whane’er to drink you are inclined,<br />Or +cutty-sarks run in your mind,<br />Think! ye may buy the joys owre dear +-<br />Remember Tam o’ Shanter’s mare.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>THE DEMON SHIP</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>BY THOMAS HOOD.</p> +<p>’Twas off the Wash the sun went down - the sea looked black +and grim,<br />For stormy clouds with murky fleece were mustering at +the brim;<br />Titanic shades! enormous gloom! - as if the solid night<br />Of +Erebus rose suddenly to seize upon the light!<br />It was a time for +mariners to bear a wary eye,<br />With such a dark conspiracy between +the sea and sky!</p> +<p>Down went my helm - close reefed - the tack held freely in my hand +-<br />With ballast snug - I put about, and scudded for the land;<br />Loud +hissed the sea beneath her lee - my little boat flew fast,<br />But +faster still the rushing storm came borne upon the blast.</p> +<p>Lord! what a roaring hurricane beset the straining sail!<br />What +furious sleet, with level drift, and fierce assaults of hail!<br />What +darksome caverns yawned before! what jagged steeps behind!<br />Like +battle-steeds, with foamy manes, wild tossing in the wind,<br />Each +after each sank down astern, exhausted in the chase,<br />But where +it sank another rose and galloped in its place;<br />As black as night +- they turned to white, and cast against the cloud<br />A snowy sheet, +as if each surge upturned a sailor’s shroud:-<br />Still flew +my boat; alas! alas! her course was nearly run!<br />Behold yon fatal +billow rise - ten billows heaped in one!<br />With fearful speed the +dreary mass came rolling, rolling fast,<br />As if the scooping sea +contained one only wave at last;<br />Still on it came, with horrid +roar, a swift pursuing grave;<br />It seemed as though some cloud had +turned its hugeness to a wave!<br />Its briny sleet began to beat beforehand +in my face -<br />I felt the rearward keel begin to climb its swelling +base!<br />I saw its alpine hoary head impending over mine!<br />Another +pulse - and down it rushed - an avalanche of brine!<br />Brief pause +had I on God to cry, or think of wife and home;<br />The waters closed +- and when I shrieked, I shrieked below the foam!<br />Beyond that rush +I have no hint of any after-deed -<br />For I was tossing on the waste, +as senseless as a weed.</p> +<p> . + . . + . .</p> +<p>“Where am I? in the breathing world, or in the world of death?”<br />With +sharp and sudden pang I drew another birth of breath;<br />My eyes drank +in a doubtful light, my ears a doubtful sound -<br />And was that ship +a <i>real</i> ship whose tackle seemed around?<br />A moon, as if the +earthly moon, was shining up aloft;<br />But were those beams the very +beams that I have seen so oft?<br />A face that mocked the human face, +before me watched alone;<br />But were those eyes the eyes of man that +looked against my own?</p> +<p>Oh! never may the moon again disclose me such a sight<br />As met +my gaze, when first I looked, on that accursed night!<br />I’ve +seen a thousand horrid shapes begot of fierce extremes<br />Of fever; +and most frightful things have haunted in my dreams -<br />Hyenas - +cats - blood-loving bats - and apes with hateful stare -<br />Pernicious +snakes, and shaggy bulls - the lion, and she-bear -<br />Strong enemies, +with Judas looks, of treachery and spite -<br />Detested features, hardly +dimmed and banished by the light!<br />Pale-sheeted ghosts, with gory +locks, upstarting from their tombs -<br />All phantasies and images +that flit in midnight glooms -<br />Hags, goblins, demons, lemures, +have made me all aghast, -<br />But nothing like that GRIMLY ONE who +stood beside the mast!</p> +<p>His cheek was black - his brow was black - his eyes and hair as dark;<br />His +hand was black, and where it touched, it left a sable mark;<br />His +throat was black, his vest the same, and when I looked beneath,<br />His +breast was black - all, all was black, except his grinning teeth,<br />His +sooty crew were like in hue, as black as Afric slaves!<br />Oh, horror! +e’en the ship was black that ploughed the inky waves!<br />“Alas!” +I cried, “for love of truth and blessed mercy’s sake,<br />Where +am I? in what dreadful ship? upon what dreadful lake?<br />What shape +is that, so very grim, and black as any coal?<br />It is Mahound, the +Evil One, and he has gained my soul!<br />Oh, mother dear! my tender +nurse: dear meadows that beguiled<br />My happy days, when I was yet +a little sinless child -<br />My mother dear - my native fields I never +more shall see:<br />I’m sailing in the Devil’s Ship, upon +the Devil’s Sea!”</p> +<p>Loud laughed that SABLE MARINER, and loudly in return<br />His sooty +crew sent forth a laugh that rang from stem to stern -<br />A dozen +pair of grimly cheeks were crumpled on the nonce -<br />As many sets +of grinning teeth came shining out at once:<br />A dozen gloomy shapes +at once enjoyed the merry fit,<br />With shriek and yell, and oaths +as well, like Demons of the Pit.<br />They crowed their fill, and then +the Chief made answer for the whole:-<br />“Our skins,” +said he, “are black, ye see, because we carry coal;<br />You’ll +find your mother sure enough, and see your native fields -<br />For +this here ship has picked you up - the <i>Mary Ann</i> of Shields!”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>A TALE OF A TRUMPET</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>BY THOMAS HOOD.</p> +<p><i>“Old woman, old woman, will you go a-shearing?<br />Speak +a little louder, for I’m very hard of hearing.”<br /> - +Old Ballad.</i></p> +<p>Of all old women hard of hearing,<br />The deafest sure was Dame +Eleanor Spearing!<br /> On her head, it +is true,<br /> Two flaps there grew,<br /> That +served for a pair of gold rings to go through,<br />But for any purpose +of ears in a parley,<br />They heard no more than ears of barley.</p> +<p>No hint was needed from D. E. F.,<br />You saw in her face that the +woman was deaf:<br /> From her twisted mouth to her eyes +so peery,<br /> Each queer feature asked a query;<br />A +look that said in a silent way,<br />“Who? and What? and How? +and Eh?<br />I’d give my ears to know what you say!”</p> +<p>And well she might! for each auricular<br />Was deaf as a post - +and that post in particular<br />That stands at the corner of Dyott +Street now,<br />And never hears a word of a row!<br />Ears that might +serve her now and then<br />As extempore racks for an idle pen;<br />Or +to hang with hoops from jewellers’ shops;<br />With coral; ruby, +or garnet drops;<br />Or, provided the owner so inclined,<br />Ears +to stick a blister behind;<br />But as for hearing wisdom, or wit,<br />Falsehood, +or folly, or tell-tale-tit,<br />Or politics, whether of Fox or Pitt,<br />Sermon, +lecture, or musical bit,<br />Harp, piano, fiddle, or kit,<br />They +might as well, for any such wish,<br />Have been buttered, done brown, +and laid in a dish!</p> +<p>She was deaf as a post, - as said before -<br />And as deaf as twenty +similes more,<br />Including the adder, that deafest of snakes,<br />Which +never hears the coil it makes.</p> +<p>She was deaf as a house - which modern tricks<br />Of language would +call as deaf as bricks -<br /> For her all human kind were +dumb,<br /> Her drum, indeed, was so muffled a drum,<br /> That +none could get a sound to come,<br />Unless the Devil, who had Two Sticks!<br />She +was as deaf as a stone - say one of the stones<br />Demosthenes sucked +to improve his tones;<br />And surely deafness no further could reach<br />Than +to be in his mouth without hearing his speech!</p> +<p>She was deaf as a nut - for nuts, no doubt,<br />Are deaf to the +grub that’s hollowing out -<br />As deaf, alas! as the dead and +forgotten -<br />(Gray has noticed the waste of breath,<br />In addressing +the “dull, cold ear of death”),<br />Or the felon’s +ear that is stuffed with cotton -<br />Or Charles the First <i>in statue +quo</i>;<br />Or the still-born figures of Madame Tussaud,<br />With +their eyes of glass, and their hair of flax,<br />That only stare whatever +you “ax,”<br />For their ears, you know, are nothing but +wax.</p> +<p>She was deaf as the ducks that swam in the pond,<br />And wouldn’t +listen to Mrs. Bond, -<br />As deaf as any Frenchman appears,<br />When +he puts his shoulders into his ears:<br />And - whatever the citizen +tells his son -<br />As deaf as Gog and Magog at one!<br />Or, still +to be a simile-seeker,<br />As deaf as dogs’-ears to Enfield’s +Speaker!</p> +<p>She was deaf as any tradesman’s dummy,<br />Or as Pharaoh’s +mother’s mother’s mummy;<br />Whose organs, for fear of +modern sceptics,<br />Were plugged with gums and antiseptics.</p> +<p>She was deaf as a nail - that you cannot hammer<br />A meaning into +for all your clamour -<br />There never <i>was</i> such a deaf old Gammer!<br /> So +formed to worry<br /> Both Lindley and +Murray,<br />By having no ear for Music or Grammar!</p> +<p>Deaf to sounds, as a ship out of soundings,<br />Deaf to verbs, and +all their compoundings,<br />Adjective, noun, and adverb, and particle,<br />Deaf +to even the definite article -<br />No verbal message was worth a pin,<br />Though +you hired an earwig to carry it in!</p> +<p>In short, she was twice as deaf as Deaf Burke,<br />Or all the Deafness +in Yearsley’s work,<br />Who in spite of his skill in hardness +of hearing,<br /> Boring, blasting, and +pioneering,<br /> To give the dunny organ +a clearing,<br />Could never have cured Dame Eleanor Spearing.</p> +<p>Of course the loss was a great privation,<br />For one of her sex +- whatever her station -<br />And none the less that the dame had a +turn<br />For making all families one concern,<br />And learning whatever +there was to learn<br />In the prattling, tattling village of Tringham +-<br />As, who wore silk? and who wore gingham?<br />And what the Atkins’s +shop might bring ’em?<br />How the Smiths contrived to live? and +whether<br />The fourteen Murphys all pigged together?<br />The wages +per week of the Weavers and Skinners,<br />And what they boiled for +their Sunday dinners?<br />What plates the Bugsbys had on the shelf,<br />Crockery, +china, wooden, or delf?<br />And if the parlour of Mrs. O’Grady<br />Had +a wicked French print, or Death and the Lady?<br />Did Snip and his +wife continue to jangle?<br />Had Mrs. Wilkinson sold her mangle?<br />What +liquor was drunk by Jones and Brown?<br />And the weekly score they +ran up at the Crown?<br />If the cobbler could read, and believed in +the Pope?<br />And how the Grubbs were off for soap?<br />If the Snobbs +had furnished their room upstairs,<br />And how they managed for tables +and chairs,<br />Beds, and other household affairs,<br />Iron, wooden, +and Staffordshire wares?<br /> And if they could muster a +whole pair of bellows?<br />In fact she had much of the spirit that +lies<br />Perdu in a notable set of Paul Prys,<br /> By courtesy +called Statistical Fellows -<br />A prying, spying, inquisitive clan,<br />Who +have gone upon much of the self-same plan,<br /> Jotting +the labouring class’s riches;<br />And after poking in pot and +pan,<br /> And routing garments in want of stitches,<br />Have +ascertained that a working man<br /> Wears a pair and a quarter +of average breeches!</p> +<p>But this, alas! from her loss of hearing,<br />Was all a sealed book +to Dame Eleanor Spearing;<br /> And often her tears would +rise to their founts -<br />Supposing a little scandal at play<br />’Twixt +Mrs. O’Fie and Mrs. Au Fait -<br /> That she couldn’t +audit the gossips’ accounts.<br />’Tis true, to her cottage +still they came,<br />And ate her muffins just the same,<br />And drank +the tea of the widowed dame,<br />And never swallowed a thimble the +less<br />Of something the reader is left to guess,<br />For all the +deafness of Mrs. S.<br /> Who <i>saw</i> them talk, and chuckle, +and cough,<br />But to <i>see</i> and not share in the social flow,<br />She +might as well have lived, you know,<br />In one of the houses in Owen’s +Row,<br /> Near the New River Head, with its water cut off!<br />And +yet the almond oil she had tried,<br />And fifty infallible things beside,<br />Hot, +and cold, and thick, and thin,<br />Dabbed, and dribbled, and squirted +in:<br />But all remedies failed; and though some it was clear,<br /> Like +the brandy and salt<br /> We now exalt,<br />Had +made a noise in the public ear,<br />She was just as deaf as ever, poor +dear!</p> +<p>At last - one very fine day in June -<br /> Suppose +her sitting,<br /> Busily knitting,<br />And +humming she didn’t quite know what tune;<br /> For +nothing she heard but a sort of whizz,<br />Which, unless the sound +of circulation,<br />Or of thoughts in the process of fabrication,<br />By +a spinning-jennyish operation,<br /> It’s hard to say +what buzzing it is.<br />However, except that ghost of a sound,<br />She +sat in a silence most profound -<br />The cat was purring about the +mat,<br />But her mistress heard no more of that<br />Than if it had +been a boatswain’s cat;<br />And as for the clock the moments +nicking,<br />The dame only gave it credit for ticking.<br />The bark +of her dog she did not catch;<br />Nor yet the click of the lifted latch;<br />Nor +yet the creak of the opening door;<br />Nor yet the fall of a foot on +the floor -<br />But she saw the shadow that crept on her gown<br />And +turned its skirt of a darker brown.</p> +<p>And lo! a man! a Pedlar! ay, marry,<br />With the little back-shop +that such tradesmen carry,<br />Stocked with brooches, ribbons, and +rings,<br />Spectacles, razors, and other odd things<br />For lad and +lass, as Autolycus sings;<br />A chapman for goodness and cheapness +of ware,<br />Held a fair dealer enough at a fair,<br />But deemed a +piratical sort of invader<br />By him we dub the “regular trader,”<br />Who +- luring the passengers in as they pass<br />By lamps, gay panels, and +mouldings of brass,<br />And windows with only one huge pane of glass,<br />And +his name in gilt characters, German or Roman -<br />If he isn’t +a Pedlar, at least he’s a Showman!</p> +<p>However, in the stranger came,<br />And, the moment he met the eyes +of the Dame,<br />Threw her as knowing a nod as though<br />He had known +her fifty long years ago:<br />And presto! before she could utter “Jack” +-<br />Much less “Robinson” - opened his pack -<br /> And +then from amongst his portable gear,<br />With even more than a Pedlar’s +tact, -<br />(Slick himself might have envied the act) -<br />Before +she had time to be deaf, in fact -<br /> Popped a Trumpet +into her ear.<br /> “There, Ma’am! +try it!<br /> You needn’t buy it +-<br /> The last New Patent, and nothing comes nigh it<br />For +affording the deaf, at a little expense,<br />The sense of hearing, +and hearing of sense!<br />A Real Blessing - and no mistake,<br />Invented +for poor Humanity’s sake:<br />For what can be a greater privation<br />Than +playing Dumby to all creation,<br />And only looking at conversation +-<br />Great philosophers talking like Platos,<br />And Members of Parliament +moral as Catos,<br />And your ears as dull as waxy potatoes!<br />Not +to name the mischievous quizzers,<br />Sharp as knives, but double as +scissors,<br />Who get you to answer quite by guess<br />Yes for No, +and No for Yes.”<br />(“That’s very true,” says +Dame Eleanor S.)</p> +<p>“Try it again! No harm in trying -<br />I’m sure +you’ll find it worth your buying.<br />A little practice - that +is all -<br />And you’ll hear a whisper, however small,<br />Through +an Act of Parliament party-wall, -<br />Every syllable clear as day,<br />And +even what people are going to say -<br /> I wouldn’t +tell a lie, I wouldn’t,<br /> But my Trumpets have +heard what Solomon’s couldn’t;<br />And as for Scott he +promises fine,<br />But can he warrant his horns like mine,<br />Never +to hear what a lady shouldn’t -<br />Only a guinea - and can’t +take less.”<br />(“That’s very dear,” said Dame +Eleanor S.)</p> +<p> “Dear! - Oh dear, to call it dear!<br />Why, it +isn’t a horn you buy, but an ear;<br />Only think, and you’ll +find on reflection<br />You’re bargaining, ma’am, for the +Voice of Affection;<br />For the language of Wisdom, and Virtue, and +Truth,<br />And the sweet little innocent prattle of Youth:<br />Not +to mention the striking of clocks -<br />Cackle of hens - crowing of +cocks -<br />Lowing of cow, and bull, and ox -<br />Bleating of pretty +pastoral flocks -<br />Murmur of waterfall over the rocks -<br />Every +sound that Echo mocks -<br />Vocals, fiddles, and musical-box -<br />And +zounds! to call such a concert dear!<br />But I mustn’t ‘swear +with my horn in your ear.’<br />Why, in buying that Trumpet you +buy all those<br />That Harper, or any Trumpeter, blows<br />At the +Queen’s Levees or the Lord Mayor’s Shows,<br />At least +as far as the music goes,<br />Including the wonderful lively sound,<br />Of +the Guards’ key-bugles all the year round;<br />Come - suppose +we call it a pound!<br />Come,” said the talkative Man of the +Pack,<br />“Before I put my box on my back,<br />For this elegant, +useful Conductor of Sound,<br />Come, suppose we call it a pound!</p> +<p>“Only a pound: it’s only the price<br />Of hearing a +concert once or twice,<br /> It’s +only the fee<br /> You might give Mr. C.<br />And +after all not hear his advice,<br />But common prudence would bid you +stump it;<br /> For, not to enlarge,<br /> It’s +the regular charge<br />At a Fancy Fair for a penny trumpet.<br />Lord! +what’s a pound to the blessing of hearing!”<br />(“A +pound’s a pound,” said Dame Eleanor Spearing.)</p> +<p>“Try it again! no harm in trying!<br />A pound’s a pound, +there’s no denying;<br />But think what thousands and thousands +of pounds<br />We pay for nothing but hearing sounds:<br />Sounds of +Equity, Justice, and Law,<br />Parliamentary jabber and jaw,<br />Pious +cant, and moral saw,<br />Hocus-pocus, and Nong-tong-paw,<br />And empty +sounds not worth a straw;<br />Why, it costs a guinea, as I’m +a sinner,<br />To hear the sounds at a public dinner!<br />One pound +one thrown into the puddle,<br />To listen to Fiddle, Faddle, and Fuddle!<br />Not +to forget the sounds we buy<br />From those who sell their sounds so +high,<br />That, unless the managers pitch it strong,<br />To get a +signora to warble a song,<br />You must fork out the blunt with a haymaker’s +prong!</p> +<p>“It’s not the thing for me - I know it,<br />To crack +my own trumpet up and blow it;<br />But it is the best, and time will +show it.<br /> There was Mrs. F.<br /> So +very deaf,<br />That she might have worn a percussion cap,<br />And +been knocked on the head without hearing it snap,<br />Well, I sold +her a horn, and the very next day<br />She heard from her husband at +Botany Bay!<br />Come - eighteen shillings - that’s very low,<br />You’ll +save the money as shillings go,<br />And I never knew so bad a lot,<br />By +hearing whether they ring or not!</p> +<p>“Eighteen shillings! it’s worth the price,<br />Supposing +you’re delicate-minded and nice,<br />To have the medical man +of your choice,<br />Instead of the one with the strongest voice -<br />Who +comes and asks you, how’s your liver,<br />And where you ache, +and whether you shiver,<br />And as to your nerves, so apt to quiver,<br />As +if he was hailing a boat on the river!<br />And then, with a shout, +like Pat in a riot,<br />Tells you to keep yourself perfectly quiet!</p> +<p>“Or a tradesman comes - as tradesmen will -<br />Short and +crusty about his bill;<br /> Of patience, indeed, a perfect +scorner,<br />And because you’re deaf and unable to pay,<br />Shouts +whatever he has to say,<br />In a vulgar voice, that goes over the way,<br /> Down +the street and round the corner!<br />Come - speak your mind - it’s +‘No’ or ‘Yes.’”<br />(“I’ve +half a mind,” said Dame Eleanor S.)</p> +<p>“Try it again - no harm in trying,<br />Of course you hear +me, as easy as lying;<br />No pain at all, like a surgical trick,<br />To +make you squall, and struggle, and kick,<br /> Like +Juno, or Rose,<br /> Whose ear undergoes<br />Such +horrid tugs at membrane and gristle,<br />For being as deaf as yourself +to a whistle!</p> +<p>“You may go to surgical chaps if you choose,<br />Who will +blow up your tubes like copper flues,<br />Or cut your tonsils right +away,<br />As you’d shell out your almonds for Christmas Day;<br />And +after all a matter of doubt,<br />Whether you ever would hear the shout<br />Of +the little blackguards that bawl about,<br />‘There you go with +your tonsils out!’<br /> Why I knew a deaf Welshman, +who came from Glamorgan<br />On purpose to try a surgical spell,<br />And +paid a guinea, and might as well<br /> Have called a monkey +into his organ!<br />For the Aurist only took a mug,<br />And poured +in his ear some acoustical drug,<br />That, instead of curing, deafened +him rather,<br />As Hamlet’s uncle served Hamlet’s father!<br />That’s +the way with your surgical gentry!<br /> And +happy your luck<br /> If you don’t +get stuck<br />Through your liver and lights at a royal entry,<br />Because +you never answered the sentry!</p> +<p>“Try it again, dear madam, try it!<br />Many would sell their +beds to buy it.<br />I warrant you often wake up in the night,<br />Ready +to shake to a jelly with fright,<br />And up you must get to strike +a light,<br />And down you go, in you know what,<br />Whether the weather +is chilly or hot, -<br />That’s the way a cold is got, -<br />To +see if you heard a noise or not.</p> +<p>“Why, bless you, a woman with organs like yours<br />Is hardly +safe to step out of doors!<br />Just fancy a horse that comes full pelt,<br />But +as quiet as if he was shod with felt,<br />Till he rushes against you +with all his force,<br />And then I needn’t describe of course,<br />While +he kicks you about without remorse,<br />How awkward it is to be groomed +by a horse!<br />Or a bullock comes, as mad as King Lear,<br />And you +never dream that the brute is near,<br />Till he pokes his horn right +into your ear,<br />Whether you like the thing or lump it, -<br />And +all for want of buying a trumpet!</p> +<p>“I’m not a female to fret and vex,<br />But if I belonged +to the sensitive sex,<br />Exposed to all sorts of indelicate sounds,<br />I +wouldn’t be deaf for a thousand pounds.<br /> Lord! +only think of chucking a copper<br />To Jack or Bob with a timber limb,<br />Who +looks as if he was singing a hymn,<br /> Instead of a song +that’s very improper!<br />Or just suppose in a public place<br />You +see a great fellow a-pulling a face,<br />With his staring eyes and +his mouth like an O, -<br />And how is a poor deaf lady to know, -<br />The +lower orders are up to such games -<br />If he’s calling ‘Green +Peas,’ or calling her names?”<br />(“They’re +tenpence a peck!” said the deafest of dames.)</p> +<p>“’Tis strange what very strong advising,<br />By word +of mouth, or advertising,<br />By chalking on wall, or placarding on +vans,<br />With fifty other different plans,<br />The very high pressure, +in fact, of pressing,<br />It needs to persuade one to purchase a blessing!<br />Whether +the soothing American Syrup,<br />A Safety Hat, or a Safety Stirrup, +-<br />Infallible Pills for the human frame,<br />Or Rowland’s +O-don’t-O (an ominous name)!<br />A Doudney’s suit which +the shape so hits<br />That it beats all others into <i>fits</i>;<br />A +Mechi’s razor for beards unshorn,<br />Or a Ghost-of-a-Whisper-Catching +Horn!</p> +<p>“Try it again, ma’am, only try!”<br />Was still +the voluble Pedlar’s cry;<br />“It’s a great privation, +there’s no dispute,<br />To live like the dumb unsociable brute,<br />And +to hear no more of the <i>pro</i> and <i>con</i>,<br />And how Society’s +going on,<br />Than Mumbo Jumbo or Prester John,<br />And all for want +of this <i>sine quâ non</i>;<br /> Whereas, with a +horn that never offends,<br />You may join the genteelest party that +is,<br />And enjoy all the scandal, and gossip, and quiz,<br /> And +be certain to hear of your absent friends; -<br />Not that elegant ladies, +in fact,<br />In genteel society ever detract,<br />Or lend a brush +when a friend is blacked, -<br />At least as a mere malicious act, -<br />But +only talk scandal for fear some fool<br />Should think they were bred +at <i>charity</i> school.<br /> Or, maybe, you like a little +flirtation,<br />Which even the most Don Juanish rake<br />Would surely +object to undertake<br /> At the same high pitch as an altercation.<br />It’s +not for me, of course, to judge<br />How much a deaf lady ought to begrudge;<br />But +half-a-guinea seems no great matter -<br />Letting alone more rational +patter -<br />Only to hear a parrot chatter:<br />Not to mention that +feathered wit,<br />The starling, who speaks when his tongue is slit;<br />The +pies and jays that utter words,<br />And other Dicky Gossips of birds,<br />That +talk with as much good sense and decorum<br />As many <i>Beaks</i> who +belong to the Quorum.</p> +<p>“Try it - buy it - say ten and six,<br />The lowest price a +miser could fix:<br />I don’t pretend with horns of mine,<br />Like +some in the advertising line,<br />To <i>‘magnify sounds’</i> +on such marvellous scales,<br />That the sounds of a cod seem as big +as a whale’s;<br />But popular rumours, right or wrong, -<br />Charity +sermons, short or long, -<br />Lecture, speech, concerto, or song,<br />All +noises and voices, feeble or strong,<br />From the hum of a gnat to +the clash of a gong,<br />This tube will deliver distinct and clear;<br /> Or, +supposing by chance<br /> You wish to dance,<br />Why +it’s putting a <i>Horn-pipe</i> into your ear!<br /> Try +it - buy it!<br /> Buy it - try it!<br />The +last New Patent, and nothing comes nigh it,<br /> For guiding +sounds to their proper tunnel:<br />Only try till the end of June,<br />And +if you and the trumpet are out of tune<br /> I’ll turn +it gratis into a funnel!”<br />In short, the pedlar so beset her, +-<br />Lord Bacon couldn’t have gammoned her better, -<br />With +flatteries plump and indirect,<br />And plied his tongue with such effect, +-<br />A tongue that could almost have buttered a crumpet:<br />The +deaf old woman bought the Trumpet.</p> +<p> . + . . + . .<br /> . + . . + . .</p> +<p>The pedlar was gone. With the horn’s assistance,<br />She +heard his steps die away in the distance;<br />And then she heard the +tick of the clock,<br />The purring of puss, and the snoring of Shock;<br />And +she purposely dropped a pin that was little,<br />And heard it fall +as plain as a skittle!</p> +<p>’Twas a wonderful horn, to be but just!<br />Nor meant to gather +dust, must, and rust;<br />So in half a jiffy, or less than that,<br />In +her scarlet cloak and her steeple-hat,<br />Like old Dame Trot, but +without her cat,<br />The gossip was hunting all Tringham thorough,<br />As +if she meant to canvass the borough,<br /> Trumpet in hand, +or up to the cavity; -<br />And, sure, had the horn been one of those<br />The +wild rhinoceros wears on his nose,<br /> It couldn’t +have ripped up more depravity!</p> +<p>Depravity! mercy shield her ears!<br />’Twas plain enough that +her village peers<br /> In the ways of vice were no raw beginners;<br />For +whenever she raised the tube to her drum<br />Such sounds were transmitted +as only come<br /> From the very Brass Band of human sinners!<br />Ribald +jest and blasphemous curse<br />(Bunyan never vented worse),<br />With +all those weeds, not flowers, of speech<br />Which the Seven Dialecticians +teach;<br />Filthy Conjunctions, and Dissolute Nouns,<br />And Particles +picked from the kennels of towns,<br />With Irregular Verbs for irregular +jobs,<br />Chiefly active in rows and mobs,<br />Picking Possessive +Pronouns’ fobs,<br />And Interjections as bad as a blight,<br />Or +an Eastern blast, to the blood and the sight:<br />Fanciful phrases +for crime and sin,<br />And smacking of vulgar lips where Gin,<br />Garlic, +Tobacco, and offals go in -<br />A jargon so truly adapted, in fact,<br />To +each thievish, obscene, and ferocious act,<br />So fit for the brute +with the human shape,<br />Savage Baboon, or libidinous Ape,<br />From +their ugly mouths it will certainly come<br />Should they ever get weary +of shamming dumb!</p> +<p>Alas! for the Voice of Virtue and Truth,<br />And the sweet little +innocent prattle of Youth!<br />The smallest urchin whose tongue could +tang,<br />Shocked the Dame with a volley of slang,<br />Fit for Fagin’s +juvenile gang;<br /> While the charity +chap,<br /> With his muffin cap,<br /> His +crimson coat, and his badge so garish,<br />Playing at dumps, or pitch +in the hole,<br />Cursed his eyes, limbs, body and soul,<br /> As +if they did not belong to the Parish!</p> +<p>’Twas awful to hear, as she went along,<br />The wicked words +of the popular song;<br /> Or supposing she listened - as +gossips will -<br />At a door ajar, or a window agape,<br />To catch +the sounds they allowed to escape.<br /> Those sounds belonged +to Depravity still!<br />The dark allusion, or bolder brag<br />Of the +dexterous “dodge,” and the lots of “swag,”<br />The +plundered house - or the stolen nag -<br />The blazing rick, or the +darker crime,<br />That quenched the spark before its time -<br />The +wanton speech of the wife immoral,<br />The noise of drunken or deadly +quarrel,<br />With savage menace, which threatened the life,<br />Till +the heart seemed merely a strop for the knife;<br />The human liver, +no better than that<br />Which is sliced and thrown to an old woman’s +cat;<br /> And the head, so useful for shaking and nodding,<br />To +be punched into holes, like a “shocking bad hat”<br /> That +is only fit to be punched into wadding!</p> +<p>In short, wherever she turned the horn,<br />To the highly bred, +or the lowly born,<br />The working man, who looked over the hedge,<br />Or +the mother nursing her infant pledge.<br /> The sober Quaker, +averse to quarrels,<br />Or the Governess pacing the village through,<br />With +her twelve Young Ladies, two and two,<br />Looking, as such young ladies +do,<br /> Trussed by Decorum and stuffed with morals -<br />Whether +she listened to Hob or Bob,<br /> Nob or +Snob,<br /> The Squire on his cob,<br />Or +Trudge and his ass at a tinkering job,<br />To the “Saint” +who expounded at “Little Zion” -<br />Or the “Sinner” +who kept the “Golden Lion” -<br />The man teetotally weaned +from liquor -<br />The Beadle, the Clerk, or the Reverend Vicar -<br />Nay, +the very Pie in its cage of wicker -<br />She gathered such meanings, +double or single,<br /> That like the bell,<br /> With +muffins to sell,<br />Her ear was kept in a constant tingle!</p> +<p>But this was nought to the tales of shame,<br />The constant runnings +of evil fame,<br />Foul, and dirty, and black as ink,<br />That her +ancient cronies, with nod and wink,<br />Poured in her horn like slops +in a sink:<br /> While sitting in conclave, as gossips do,<br />With +their Hyson or Howqua, black or green,<br />And not a little of feline +spleen,<br /> Lapped up in “Catty packages,” +too,<br /> To give a zest to the sipping and supping;<br />For +still by some invisible tether,<br />Scandal and Tea are linked together,<br /> As +surely as Scarification and Cupping;<br />Yet never since Scandal drank +Bohea -<br />Or sloe, or whatever it happened to be,<br /> For +some grocerly thieves<br /> Turn over new +leaves,<br />Without much mending their lives or their tea -<br />No, +never since cup was filled or stirred<br />Were such wild and horrible +anecdotes heard,<br />As blackened their neighbours of either gender,<br />Especially +that, which is called the Tender,<br />But instead of the softness we +fancy therewith,<br />Was hardened in vice as the vice of a smith.</p> +<p>Women! the wretches! had soiled and marred<br /> Whatever +to womanly nature belongs;<br />For the marriage tie they had no regard,<br />Nay, +sped their mates to the sexton’s yard,<br /> (Like +Madame Laffarge, who with poisonous pinches<br /> Kept cutting +off her L by inches) -<br />And as for drinking, they drank so hard<br />That +they drank their flat-irons, pokers, and tongs!</p> +<p>The men - they fought and gambled at fairs;<br />And poached - and +didn’t respect grey hairs -<br />Stole linen, money, plate, poultry, +and corses;<br />And broke in houses as well as horses;<br />Unfolded +folds to kill their own mutton, -<br />And would their own mothers and +wives for a button:<br />But not to repeat the deeds they did,<br />Backsliding +in spite of all moral skid,<br />If all were true that fell from the +tongue,<br />There was not a villager, old or young,<br />But deserved +to be whipped, imprisoned, or hung,<br />Or sent on those travels which +nobody hurries,<br />To publish at Colburn’s, or Longmans’, +or Murray’s.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the Trumpet, <i>con amore</i>,<br />Transmitted each vile +diabolical story;<br />And gave the least whisper of slips and falls,<br />As +that Gallery does in the Dome of St. Paul’s,<br />Which, as all +the world knows, by practice or print,<br />Is famous for making the +most of a hint.<br /> Not a murmur of shame,<br /> Or +buzz of blame,<br />Not a flying report that flew at a name,<br />Not +a plausible gloss, or significant note,<br />Not a word in the scandalous +circles afloat,<br />Of a beam in the eye, or diminutive mote,<br />But +vortex-like that tube of tin<br />Sucked the censorious particle in;<br /> And, +truth to tell, for as willing an organ<br />As ever listened to serpent’s +hiss,<br />Nor took the viperous sound amiss,<br /> On the +snaky head of an ancient Gorgon!</p> +<p>The Dame, it is true, would mutter “shocking!”<br />And +give her head a sorrowful rocking,<br />And make a clucking with palate +and tongue,<br />Like the call of Partlet to gather her young,<br />A +sound, when human, that always proclaims<br />At least a thousand pities +and shames;<br /> But still the darker the tale of sin,<br />Like +certain folks, when calamities burst,<br />Who find a comfort in “hearing +the worst,”<br /> The farther she poked the Trumpet +in.<br />Nay, worse, whatever she heard she spread<br /> East +and West, and North and South,<br />Like the ball which, according to +Captain Z.,<br /> Went in at his ear, and came out at his +mouth.<br />What wonder between the Horn and the Dame,<br />Such mischief +was made wherever they came,<br />That the parish of Tringham was all +in a flame!</p> +<p> For although it required such loud discharges,<br />Such +peals of thunder as rumbled at Lear,<br />To turn the smallest of table-beer,<br />A +little whisper breathed into the ear<br /> Will sour a temper +“as sour as varges.”<br />In fact such very ill blood there +grew,<br /> From this private circulation of stories,<br />That +the nearest neighbours the village through,<br />Looked at each other +as yellow and blue,<br />As any electioneering crew<br /> Wearing +the colours of Whigs and Tories.<br />Ah! well the Poet said, in sooth,<br />That +“whispering tongues can poison Truth,” -<br /> Yes, +like a dose of oxalic acid,<br />Wrench and convulse poor Peace, the +placid,<br />And rack dear Love with internal fuel,<br />Like arsenic +pastry, or what is as cruel,<br />Sugar of lead, that sweetens gruel, +-<br />At least such torments began to wring ’em<br /> From +the very morn<br /> When that mischievous +Horn<br />Caught the whisper of tongues in Tringham.</p> +<p>The Social Clubs dissolved in huffs,<br />And the Sons of Harmony +came to cuffs,<br />While feuds arose and family quarrels,<br />That +discomposed the mechanics of morals,<br />For screws were loose between +brother and brother,<br />While sisters fastened their nails on each +other;<br />Such wrangles, and jangles, and miff, and tiff,<br />And +spar, and jar - and breezes as stiff<br />As ever upset a friendship +- or skiff!<br />The plighted lovers who used to walk,<br />Refused +to meet, and declined to talk:<br />And wished for two moons to reflect +the sun,<br />That they mightn’t look together on one:<br />While +wedded affection ran so low,<br />That the oldest John Anderson snubbed +his Jo -<br />And instead of the toddle adown the hill,<br /> Hand +in hand,<br /> As the song has planned,<br />Scratched +her, penniless, out of his will!<br />In short, to describe what came +to pass<br /> In a true, though somewhat theatrical way,<br />Instead +of “Love in a Village” - alas!<br /> The piece +they performed was “The Devil to Pay!”</p> +<p>However, as secrets are brought to light,<br />And mischief comes +home like chickens at night;<br />And rivers are tracked throughout +their course,<br />And forgeries traced to their proper source; -<br /> And +the sow that ought<br /> By the ear is +caught, -<br />And the sin to the sinful door is brought;<br />And the +cat at last escapes from the bag -<br />And the saddle is placed on +the proper nag -<br />And the fog blows off, and the key is found -<br />And +the faulty scent is picked out by the hound -<br />And the fact turns +up like a worm from the ground -<br />And the matter gets wind to waft +it about;<br />And a hint goes abroad, and the murder is out -<br />And +a riddle is guessed - and the puzzle is known -<br />So the Truth was +sniffed, and the Trumpet was blown!</p> +<p> . + . . + . .</p> +<p> ’Tis a day in November - a day of fog -<br />But +the Tringham people are all agog!<br /> Fathers, Mothers, +and Mothers’ Sons, -<br /> With sticks, and staves, +and swords, and guns, -<br />As if in pursuit of a rabid dog;<br />But +their voices - raised to the highest pitch -<br />Declare that the game +is “a Witch! - a Witch!”</p> +<p>Over the Green and along by the George -<br />Past the Stocks and +the Church, and the Forge,<br />And round the Pound, and skirting the +Pond,<br />Till they come to the whitewashed cottage beyond,<br />And +there at the door they muster and cluster,<br />And thump, and kick, +and bellow, and bluster -<br />Enough to put Old Nick in a fluster!<br />A +noise, indeed, so loud and long,<br />And mixed with expressions so +very strong,<br />That supposing, according to popular fame,<br />“Wise +Woman” and Witch to be the same,<br />No hag with a broom would +unwisely stop,<br />But up and away through the chimney-top;<br />Whereas, +the moment they burst the door,<br />Planted fast on her sanded floor,<br />With +her trumpet up to her organ of hearing,<br />Lo and behold! - Dame Eleanor +Spearing!</p> +<p>Oh! then rises the fearful shout -<br />Bawled and screamed, and +bandied about -<br />“Seize her! - Drag the old Jezebel out!”<br />While +the Beadle - the foremost of all the band,<br />Snatches the Horn from +her trembling hand -<br />And after a pause of doubt and fear,<br />Puts +it up to his sharpest ear.<br />“Now silence - silence - one and +all!”<br />For the Clerk is quoting from Holy Paul!<br /> But +before he rehearses<br /> A couple of verses,<br />The +Beadle lets the Trumpet fall!<br />For instead of the words so pious +and humble,<br />He hears a supernatural grumble.</p> +<p>Enough, enough! and more than enough; -<br />Twenty impatient hands +and rough,<br />By arm and leg, and neck and scruff,<br />Apron, ’kerchief, +gown of stuff -<br />Cap and pinner, sleeve and cuff -<br />Are clutching +the Witch wherever they can,<br />With the spite of woman and fury of +man;<br />And then - but first they kill her cat,<br />And murder her +dog on the very mat -<br />And crush the infernal Trumpet flat; -<br />And +then they hurry her through the door<br />She never, never will enter +more!</p> +<p>Away! away! down the dusty lane<br />They pull her and haul her, +with might and main;<br />And happy the hawbuck, Tom or Harry,<br />Dandy +or Sandy, Jerry or Larry,<br />Who happens to get “a leg to carry!”<br />And +happy the foot that can give her a kick,<br />And happy the hand that +can find a brick -<br />And happy the fingers that hold a stick -<br />Knife +to cut, or pin to prick -<br />And happy the boy who can lend her a +lick; -<br />Nay, happy the urchin - Charity-bred, -<br />Who can shy +very nigh to her wicked old head!</p> +<p>Alas! to think how people’s creeds<br />Are contradicted by +people’s deeds!<br /> But though the wishes that Witches +utter<br />Can play the most diabolical rigs -<br />Send styes in the +eye - and measle the pigs -<br />Grease horses’ heels - and spoil +the butter;<br />Smut and mildew the corn on the stalk -<br />And turn +new milk to water and chalk, -<br />Blight apples - and give the chickens +the pip -<br />And cramp the stomach - and cripple the hip -<br />And +waste the body - and addle the eggs -<br />And give a baby bandy legs;<br />Though +in common belief a Witch’s curse<br />Involves all these horrible +things and worse -<br />As ignorant bumpkins all profess,<br />No bumpkin +makes a poke the less<br />At the back or ribs of old Eleanor S.!<br /> As +if she were only a sack of barley!<br />Or gives her credit for greater +might<br />Than the Powers of Darkness confer at night<br /> On +that other old woman, the parish Charley!</p> +<p>Ay, now’s the time for a Witch to call<br />On her imps and +sucklings one and all -<br />Newes, Pyewacket, or Peck in the Crown,<br />(As +Matthew Hopkins has handed them down)<br />Dick, and Willet, and Sugar-and-Sack,<br />Greedy +Grizel, Jarmara the Black,<br />Vinegar Tom, and the rest of the pack +-<br />Ay, now’s the nick for her friend Old Harry<br />To come +“with his tail,” like the bold Glengarry,<br />And drive +her foes from their savage job<br />As a mad black bullock would scatter +a mob:-<br /> But no such matter is down in the bond;<br />And +spite of her cries that never cease,<br />But scare the ducks and astonish +the geese,<br />The dame is dragged to the fatal pond!</p> +<p>And now they come to the water’s brim -<br />And in they bundle +her - sink or swim;<br />Though it’s twenty to one that the wretch +must drown,<br />With twenty sticks to hold her down;<br />Including +the help to the self-same end,<br />Which a travelling Pedlar stops +to lend.<br />A Pedlar! - Yes! - The same! - the same!<br />Who sold +the Horn to the drowning Dame!<br />And now is foremost amid the stir,<br />With +a token only revealed to her;<br />A token that makes her shudder and +shriek,<br />And point with her finger, and strive to speak -<br />But +before she can utter the name of the Devil,<br />Her head is under the +water level!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>MORAL.</p> +<p>There are folks about town - to name no names -<br />Who much resemble +the deafest of Dames!<br /> And over their tea, and muffins, +and crumpets,<br />Circulate many a scandalous word,<br />And whisper +tales they could only have heard<br /> Through some such +Diabolical Trumpets!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>GLOSSARY</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><a name="footnote114"></a><a href="#citation114">{114}</a> <b>And</b>, +in old English could be placed like “also” in different +parts of a sentence. Thus, in <i>Nymphidia</i>,<br /> “She +hies her then to Lethe spring,<br /> A +bottle and thereof doth bring.”<br /><a name="footnote129"></a><a href="#citation129">{129}</a> +<b>Atalantis</b>, “As long as Atalantis shall be read.” +Atalantis was a book of Court scandal by Mrs. De la Rivière Manley, +in four volumes, entitled “Secret Memoirs and Manners of several +Persons of Quality of both Sexes from the New Atalantis, an Island in +the Mediterranean.” Mrs. Manley died in 1724.</p> +<p><a name="footnote94h"></a><a href="#citation94h">{94h}</a> <b>Bauzon</b>, +badger. French, <i>bausin</i>.<br /><a name="footnote147a"></a><a href="#citation147a">{147a}</a> +<b>Billies</b>, fellows, used rather contemptuously.<br /><a name="footnote147f"></a><a href="#citation147f">{147f}</a> +<b>Blellum</b>, idle talker.<br /><a name="footnote150a"></a><a href="#citation150a">{150a}</a> +<b>Boddle</b>, a Scottish copper coin worth the third part of an English +halfpenny; said to be named after the Mint-master who first coined it, +Bothwell.<br /><a name="footnote150h"></a><a href="#citation150h">{150h}</a> +<b>Bore</b>, hole in the wall.<br /><a name="footnote91e"></a><a href="#citation91e">{91e}</a> +<b>But</b>, “without,” “but merriness,” without +mirth.<br /><a name="footnote152d"></a><a href="#citation152d">{152d}</a> +<b>Byke</b>, hive.</p> +<p><a name="footnote150f"></a><a href="#citation150f">{150f}</a> <b>Cantrip</b>, +charm, spell. Icelandic, <i>gandr</i>, enchantment; <i>gand-reithr</i> +was the witches’ ride.<br /><a name="footnote83"></a><a href="#citation83">{83}</a> +<b>Can’wick Street</b>, Candlewick, where now there is Cannon +Street.<br /><a name="footnote86a"></a><a href="#citation86a">{86a}</a> +<b>Champarty</b>, Champartage, was a feudal levy of a share of profit +from the ground (<i>campi pars</i>), based originally upon aid given +to enable profit to be earned. Thus it became a law term for right +of a stranger to fixed share in any profits that on such condition he +helped a litigant to win.<br /><a name="footnote85b"></a><a href="#citation85b">{85b}</a> +<b>Chiche vache</b>, lean cow. French <i>chiche</i>, Latin <i>ciccus</i>, +wretched, worthless; from Greek kíkkos, the core of a pomegranate. +Worth no more than a pomegranate seed.<br /><a name="footnote94i"></a><a href="#citation94i">{94i}</a> +<b>Cockers</b>, rustic half-boots.<br /><a name="footnote151g"></a><a href="#citation151g">{151g}</a> +<b>Coft</b>, bought. German, <i>kaufte</i>.<br /><a name="footnote82b"></a><a href="#citation82b">{82b}</a> +<b>Copen</b>, buy. Dutch, <i>koopen</i>.<br /><a name="footnote94j"></a><a href="#citation94j">{94j}</a> +<b>Cordiwin</b>, or cordewane, Cordovan leather.<br /><a name="footnote89"></a><a href="#citation89">{89}</a> +<b>Coueyn</b>, <b>coveyne</b> convening or conspiring of two or more +to defraud.<br /><a name="footnote94f"></a><a href="#citation94f">{94f}</a> +<b>Crank</b>, lively. A boat was “crank” when frail, +lightly and easily tossed on the waves, and liable to upset. Prof. +Skeat thinks that the image of the tossed boat suggested lively movement.<br /><a name="footnote151c"></a><a href="#citation151c">{151c}</a> +<b>Creeshie flannen</b>, greasy flannel.<br /><a name="footnote151e"></a><a href="#citation151e">{151e}</a> +<b>Cummock</b>, a short staff with a crooked head.<br /><a name="footnote151f"></a><a href="#citation151f">{151f}</a> +<b>Cutty</b>, short; so cutty pipe, short pipe.</p> +<p><a name="footnote85a"></a><a href="#citation85a">{85a}</a> <b>Darrain</b>, +decide. To “arraign” was to summon <i>ad</i> <i>rationes</i> +to the pleadings. To darraign was <i>derationare</i>, to bring +them to a decision.<br /><a name="footnote86b"></a><a href="#citation86b">{86b}</a> +<b>Defy</b>, digest. As in the Vision of Piers Plowman<br /> “wyn +of Ossye<br /> Of Ruyn and of Rochel, the +rost to defye.”<br />Latin, <i>defio</i> = <i>deficio</i>, to +make one’s self to be removed from something, or something to +be removed from one’s self. To defy in the sense of challenging +is a word of different origin, <i>diffidere</i>, to separate from <i>fides</i>, +faith, trust, allegiance to another.<br /><a name="footnote91d"></a><a href="#citation91d">{91d}</a> +<b>Degest</b>, orderly. To “digest” is to separate +and arrange in an orderly manner.<br /><a name="footnote150e"></a><a href="#citation150e">{150e}</a> +<b>Dirl</b>, vibrate, echo.<br /><a name="footnote147b"></a><a href="#citation147b">{147b}</a> +<b>Drouthy</b>, droughty, thirsty.<br /><a name="footnote151a"></a><a href="#citation151a">{151a}</a> +<b>Duddies</b>, clothes.</p> +<p><a name="footnote152e"></a><a href="#citation152e">{152e}</a> <b>Eldritch</b>, +also elrische, alrische, alry, having relation to elves or evil spirits, +supernatural, hideous, frightful.<br /><a name="footnote152f"></a><a href="#citation152f">{152f}</a> +<b>Ettle</b>, endeavour, aim. Icelandic, <i>ætla</i>, to +mean anything, design, have aim, is the Scottish <i>ettle</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote108d"></a><a href="#citation108d">{108d}</a> <b>Fire-drake</b>, +dragon breathing out fire.<br /><a name="footnote91b"></a><a href="#citation91b">{91b}</a> +<b>Flicht and wary</b>, fluctuate and change.<br /><a name="footnote92b"></a><a href="#citation92b">{92b}</a> +<b>Frawfull fary</b>, froward tumult.<br /><a name="footnote152c"></a><a href="#citation152c">{152c}</a> +<b>Fyke</b>, fuss.<br /><a name="footnote30"></a><a href="#citation30">{30}</a> +<b>Fytte</b>, a song, canto. First English, <i>fit</i>, a song.<br />When +Wisdom “<i>thas fitte asungen hæfde</i>” had sung +this song. King Alfred’s Boëthius.</p> +<p><a name="footnote150g"></a><a href="#citation150g">{150g}</a> <b>Gab</b>, +mouth.<br /><a name="footnote148b"></a><a href="#citation148b">{148b}</a> +<b>Gars</b>, makes; “gars me greet,” makes me weep.<br /><a name="footnote147h"></a><a href="#citation147h">{147h}</a> +<b>Gate</b>, road. Icelandic, <i>gata</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote35"></a><a href="#citation35">{35}</a> <b>Habergeon</b>, +small hauberk, armour for the neck. Old High German, <i>hals</i>, +the neck; <i>bergan</i>, to protect.<br /><a name="footnote94d"></a><a href="#citation94d">{94d}</a> +<b>Harlock</b>, This plant-name occurs only here and in Shakespeare’s +<i>Lear</i>, Act iv. sc. 4, where Lear is said to be crowned “with +harlocks, hemlocks, nettles, cuckoo-flowers.” Probably it +is charlock, <i>Sinapis</i> <i>arvensis</i>, the mustard-plant.<br /><a name="footnote98"></a><a href="#citation98">{98}</a> +<b>Hays</b>, The hay was a French dance, with many turnings and windings.<br /><a name="footnote100"></a><a href="#citation100">{100}</a> +<b>Hient Hill</b>, Ben Hiand, in Ardnamurchan, Argyleshire.<br /><a name="footnote152a"></a><a href="#citation152a">{152a}</a> +<b>Hotched</b>, hitched.</p> +<p><a name="footnote147g"></a><a href="#citation147g">{147g}</a> <b>Ilka</b>, +each one, every.<br /><a name="footnote85c"></a><a href="#citation85c">{85c}</a> +<b>Infere</b>, together.<br /><a name="footnote148c"></a><a href="#citation148c">{148c}</a> +<b>Ingle</b>, fire. Gaelic, <i>aingeal</i>, allied to Latin <i>ignis</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote95b"></a><a href="#citation95b">{95b}</a> <b>Keep</b>, +“take thou no keep” - heed, “never mind.”<br /><a name="footnote148f"></a><a href="#citation148f">{148f}</a> +<b>Kirkton</b>, familiar term for the village in which the country people +had their church.</p> +<p><a name="footnote94k"></a><a href="#citation94k">{94k}</a> <b>Ladysmock</b>, +<i>Cardamine</i> <i>pratensis</i>.<br /><a name="footnote93b"></a><a href="#citation93b">{93b}</a> +<b>Leir</b>, lore, doctrine.<br /><a name="footnote94g"></a><a href="#citation94g">{94g}</a> +<b>Learned his sheep</b>, taught his sheep.<br /><a name="footnote94a"></a><a href="#citation94a">{94a}</a> +<b>Lemster</b>, Leominster.<br /><a name="footnote95a"></a><a href="#citation95a">{95a}</a> +<b>Lingell</b>, a shoemaker’s thong. Latin <i>lingula</i>.<br /><a name="footnote151h"></a><a href="#citation151h">{151h}</a> +<b>Linkit</b>, tripped, moved briskly.<br /><a name="footnote108c"></a><a href="#citation108c">{108c}</a> +<b>Lubrican</b>, the Irish leprechaun, a fairy in shape of an old man, +discovered by the moan he makes. He brings wealth, and is fixed +only as long as the finder keeps his eye upon him.</p> +<p><a name="footnote108b"></a><a href="#citation108b">{108b}</a> <b>Mandrake</b>, +the root of mandragora, rudely shaped like the forked animal man, and +said to groan or shriek when pulled out of the earth.<br /><a name="footnote93c"></a><a href="#citation93c">{93c}</a> +<b>Marchpine</b>, sweet biscuit of sugar and almonds. Marchpane +paste was used by comfit-makers for shaping into letters, true-love +knots, birds, beasts, etc.<br /><a name="footnote130"></a><a href="#citation130">{130}</a> +<b>Megrim</b>, pain on one side of the head, headache. French +<i>migraine</i>, from Gr. <i>eemikranía</i>.<br /><a name="footnote147i"></a><a href="#citation147i">{147i}</a> +<b>Melder</b>, milling. The quantity of meal ground at once.<br /><a name="footnote148a"></a><a href="#citation148a">{148a}</a> +<b>Mirk</b>, dark.<br /><a name="footnote108a"></a><a href="#citation108a">{108a}</a> +<b>Molewarp</b>, mole. First English, <i>moldwearp</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote148e"></a><a href="#citation148e">{148e}</a> <b>Nappy</b>, +nap, strong beer.</p> +<p><a name="footnote126"></a><a href="#citation126">{126}</a> <b>Pam</b>, +Knave of Clubs, the highest card in the game of Loo, derived from “palm,” +as “trump” from “triumph.”<br /><a name="footnote137"></a><a href="#citation137">{137}</a> +<b>Partridge</b>, a maker of prophetic almanacs, who was ridiculed by +Swift as type of his bad craft.<br /><a name="footnote94b"></a><a href="#citation94b">{94b}</a> +<b>Peakish hull</b>, hill by the Peak of Derbyshire.<br /><a name="footnote19"></a><a href="#citation19">{19}</a> +<b>Pose</b>, catarrh. First English, <i>gepósu</i>.<br /> “By +the pose in thy nose,<br /> And the +gout in thy toes.”<br /> - +<i>Beaumont and Fletcher.<br /></i><a name="footnote88b"></a><a href="#citation88b">{88b}</a> +<b>Prow</b>, profit. Old French, <i>prou</i>, <i>preu - “Oïl +voir, sire, pour vostre preu i viens.” - Garin le Loharain</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote91a"></a><a href="#citation91a">{91a}</a> <b>Qu</b>, +Scottish = W. <b>Quhair</b>, where; <b>quhois</b>, whose; <b>quheill</b>, +wheel; <b>quha</b>, <b>quho</b>, who; <b>quhat</b>, what.</p> +<p><a name="footnote82a"></a><a href="#citation82a">{82a}</a> <b>Ray</b>, +striped cloth.<br /><a name="footnote151d"></a><a href="#citation151d">{151d}</a> +<b>Rigwoodie</b>, tough. Rigwiddie is the rope crossing the back +of a horse yoked in a cart; <i>rig</i>, back, and <i>withy</i>, a twig. +Applied to anything strong-backed.<br /><a name="footnote82c"></a><a href="#citation82c">{82c}</a> +<b>Rise</b>, “cherries in the rise,” cherries on the twig. +First English, <i>hris</i>, a twig, or thin branch. The old practice +of selling cherries upon shoots cut from the tree ended in their sale +by pennyworths with their stalks tied to a little stick of wood. +So they were sold in London when I was a boy.</p> +<p><a name="footnote151b"></a><a href="#citation151b">{151b}</a> <b>Sark</b>, +shirt or shift. First English, <i>syrc</i>.<br /><a name="footnote94c"></a><a href="#citation94c">{94c}</a> +<b>Setiwall</b>, garden valerian.<br /><a name="footnote147e"></a><a href="#citation147e">{147e}</a> +<b>Skellum</b>, a worthless fellow. German, <i>schelm</i>.<br /><a name="footnote149a"></a><a href="#citation149a">{149a}</a> +<b>Skelpit</b>, beat the ground with strong pulsation; rode quickly; +pounded along.<br /><a name="footnote150d"></a><a href="#citation150d">{150d}</a> +<b>Skirl</b>, sound shrill.<br /><a name="footnote147d"></a><a href="#citation147d">{147d}</a> +<b>Slaps</b>, breaks in walls or hedges; also narrow passes.<br /><a name="footnote149b"></a><a href="#citation149b">{149b}</a> +<b>Smoored</b>, smothered.<br /><a name="footnote151j"></a><a href="#citation151j">{151j}</a> +<b>Spean</b>, wean.<br /><a name="footnote32"></a><a href="#citation32">{32}</a> +<b>Spear-hawk</b>, sparrow-hawk. From the root <i>spar</i>, to +quiver or flutter, comes the name of “sparrow” and a part +of the name “sparrow-hawk.”<br /><a name="footnote94e"></a><a href="#citation94e">{94e}</a> +<b>Summerhall</b>, Stubbs, in the “Anatomy of Abuses,” speaking +of the maypole, tells how villagers, when they have reared it up, “with +handkerchiefs and flags streaming on the top, they strew the ground +about, bind green boughs about it, set up <i>summerhalls</i>, bowers, +and arbours hard by it, and then fall they to banquet and feast, and +leap and dance about it.”<br /><a name="footnote148d"></a><a href="#citation148d">{148d}</a> +<b>Swats</b>, new ale, wort. First English, <i>swate</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote88c"></a><a href="#citation88c">{88c}</a> <b>Teen</b>, +vexation, grief.<br /><a name="footnote152b"></a><a href="#citation152b">{152b}</a> +<b>Tint</b>, lost.<br /><a name="footnote150c"></a><a href="#citation150c">{150c}</a> +<b>Towsie tyke</b>, a large rough cur.<br /><a name="footnote92a"></a><a href="#citation92a">{92a}</a> +<b>Tynsall</b>, loss.</p> +<p><a name="footnote147c"></a><a href="#citation147c">{147c}</a> <b>Unco’</b>, +uncouth, more than was known usually.</p> +<p><a name="footnote151i"></a><a href="#citation151i">{151i}</a> <b>Wally</b>, +<b>walie</b> thriving. First English, <i>wælig</i>.<br /><a name="footnote91c"></a><a href="#citation91c">{91c}</a> +<b>Warsill</b>, wrestle.<br /><a name="footnote150b"></a><a href="#citation150b">{150b}</a> +<b>Winnock-bunker</b>, the window seat.<br /><a name="footnote93d"></a><a href="#citation93d">{93d}</a> +<b>Woned</b>, dwelt.<br /><a name="footnote17"></a><a href="#citation17">{17}</a> +<b>Wottest</b>, knowest.<br /><a name="footnote88a"></a><a href="#citation88a">{88a}</a> +<b>Woxen</b>, grown.</p> +<p><a name="footnote93a"></a><a href="#citation93a">{93a}</a> <b>Yconned</b>, +taught.<br /><a name="footnote81"></a><a href="#citation81">{81}</a> +<b>Yode</b>, went. First English, <i>eóde</i>, past of +<i>gán</i>, to go.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>NOTES.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p><a name="footnote21"></a><a href="#citation21">{21}</a> This old +French and Anglo-Norman word, answering to the Italian <i>gentilezza</i>, +and signifying the possession of every species of refinement, has been +retained as supplying a want which there is no modern word to fill up. +- <i>Leigh Hunt</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote26"></a><a href="#citation26">{26}</a> The sententious +sermon which here follows might have had a purely serious intention +in Chaucer’s time, when books were rare, and moralities not such +commonplaces as they are now; yet it is difficult to believe that the +poet did not intend something of a covert satire upon at least the sermoniser’s +own pretensions, especially as the latter had declared himself against +text-spinning. The Host, it is to be observed, had already charged +him with forgetting his own faults, while preaching against those of +others. The <i>refashioner</i> of the original lines has accordingly +endeavoured to retain the kind of tabernacle, or old woman’s tone, +into which he conceives the Manciple to have fallen, compared with that +of his narrative style. - <i>Leigh Hunt</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote42"></a><a href="#citation42">{42}</a> “We +possess,” says Satan in <i>Paradise Lost</i>, “the quarters +of the north.” The old legend that Milton followed placed +Satan in the north parts of heaven, following the passage in Isaiah +concerning Babylon on which that legend was constructed (Isa. xiv. 12-15), +“Thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will +exalt my throne above the stars of God; I will sit also upon the mount +of the congregation <i>in the sides of the north.”</i></p> +<p><a name="footnote49"></a><a href="#citation49">{49}</a> Alluding +to the “Millers Tale,” which has rather offended the Reve, +by reason that it ridiculed a worthy carpenter. - R. H. H.</p> +<p><a name="footnote50"></a><a href="#citation50">{50}</a> Or thus:-<br /> For +when our climbing’s done our speech aspires;<br /> <i> E’en +in our ashes live their wonted fires.<br /></i>The original lines are:-<br /> “For +whanne we may not don than wol we speken,<br /> Yet +in our ashen olde is fyre yreken.”<br />The coincidence of the +last line with the one quoted from Gray’s Elegy will be remarked. +Mr. Tyrwhit says he should certainly have considered the latter as an +“imitation” (of Chaucer), “if Mr. Gray himself had +not referred us to the 169 Sonnet of Petrarch as his original:-<br /> Ch’ +i’ veggio nel pensier, dolce mio foco,<br /> Fredda +una lingua, e duo begli occhi chiusi<br /> Rimaner +dopo noi pien’ di faville.<br />The sentiment is different in +all three; but the form of expression here adopted by Gray closely resembles +that of the Father of English Poetry, although in Gray’s time +it was no doubt far more elegant to quote Petrarch than Chaucer. - <i>R. +H. Horne</i>.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2><a name="footnote125"></a><a href="#citation125">{125}</a> THE GAME +OF OMBRE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>was invented by the Spaniards, and called by them <i>El</i> <i>Hombre</i>, +or THE MAN, <i>El</i> <i>Hombre</i> being he (or she) who undertakes +the game against the other players.</p> +<p>There were variations in the way of playing, and there were sometimes +four or even five players; but usually there were three players, as +described by Pope in the third canto of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i>, +where Belinda played as Ombre against the Baron and another, and the +course of the game is faithfully described. It is the purpose +of this note to enable any reader of <i>The Rape of the Lock</i> to +learn the game of Ombre, play it, and be able to follow Pope’s +description of a game.</p> +<p>The game of Ombre is played with a pack of cards from which the eights, +nines, and tens of each of the four suits have been thrown out. +The Ombre pack consists, therefore, of forty cards.</p> +<p>The values of cards when they are not trumps are not arranged in +the same order for each colour.</p> +<p>For the two black suits, Spades and Clubs, the values, from highest +to lowest, follow the natural order - King, Queen, Knave, seven, six, +five, four, three, two. But the two black aces always rank as +trumps, and are not reckoned as parts of the black suit. The Ace +of Spades is named <i>Spadille</i>, the Ace of Clubs is <i>Basto</i>.</p> +<p>For the two red suits, Hearts and Diamonds, only the King, Queen, +and Knave keep their values in natural order; the other cards have their +order of values reversed. The value from highest to lowest for +each red suit is, therefore, King, Queen, Knave, ace, two, three, four, +five, six, seven.</p> +<p>The values of trump cards are thus arranged:-</p> +<p>The first and best trump is the Ace of Spades, <i>Spadille</i>.</p> +<p>The second best trump is the lowest card of the trump suit, the two +of trumps in a black suit, or the seven of trumps if the trump suit +be red. This second trump is called <i>Manille</i>.</p> +<p>The third trump is the Ace of Clubs, <i>Basto</i>.</p> +<p>When the trump suit is red, its Ace becomes the fourth trump. +Thus if Diamonds be trumps the Ace of Diamonds can take the King of +Diamonds; the Ace of Hearts can take the King of Hearts if Hearts be +trumps, not otherwise. There is no addition to the value of the +Ace of Diamonds when Hearts are trumps. The Ace of a red suit +of trumps, having become in this way the fourth trump in order of value, +is called <i>Punto</i>.</p> +<p>In order of their value, counted from the highest to the lowest, +I now place in parallel columns the trumps in black suits and the trumps +in red:-</p> +<pre> Black. Red. +Spadille, Ace of Spades. Spadille, Ace of Spades. +Manille, the Two of the Manille, the Seven of the trump suit. + Trump suit. +Basto, Ace of Clubs. Basto, Ace of Clubs. +King. Punto, Ace of the trump suit. +Queen. King +Knave. Queen. +Seven. Knave. +Six. Two. +Five. Three. +Four. Four. +Three. Five. + Six. +</pre> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>The three chief trumps, <i>Spadille</i>, <i>Manille</i>, and <i>Basto</i>, +are called <i>Matadores</i>, and have powers which, together with their +name, are passed to the trumps following them, so far as they are found +in sequence in the Ombre’s hand. Thus, although <i>Spadille</i>, +<i>Manille</i>, and <i>Basto</i> are strictly speaking the only <i>Matadores</i>, +if the Ombre can show also in his hand, say, in the red suit, Punto, +King, Queen, Knave, he takes for seven <i>Matadores</i>; and if there +should be joined to these the two and three, his trumps would be all +in sequence, every card would be a <i>Matadore</i>, and he would be +paid for nine, which is the whole number of cards in a hand.</p> +<p>Counters having been distributed, among which a fish is worth ten +round counters, each player lays down a fish before the deal. +The cards having been shuffled by the dealer, and cut by the player +who sits on the left hand of the dealer, are dealt three at a time, +and first to the player who sits on the dealer’s right hand, which +is contrary to the usual course. The cards are dealt three times +round. Each of the three players then has nine, and the remaining +thirteen cards are laid down at the right hand of the dealer. +No card is turned up to determine trumps.</p> +<p>Each player then looks at his hand. The eldest hand is that +to the dealer’s right. He speaks first. If his cards +are bad, and he will not venture to be Ombre, he says “Pass,” +and lays a counter down at his left. If all three players say +“Pass,” each laying a counter down, the cards are dealt +again. When a player thinks his cards may win, and is willing +to be Ombre, unless he be the third to speak, and the two other hands +have passed, he says “Do you give me leave?” or “Do +you play without taking in?” If the other players say “Pass,” +each depositing his counter at his own left hand, the Ombre begins by +discarding from his hand two, three, or more cards that he thinks unserviceable. +He lays them down at his left hand. Then before he deals to himself +from the pack of thirteen left undistributed the same number of cards +that he has thrown out, he must name the trump suit. In doing +this he chooses for himself, according to his hand, spades, clubs, hearts, +diamonds, whichever suit he thinks will best help him to win. +If he has a two of a black suit, or a seven of a red, he can secure +to himself <i>Manille</i> by making that suit trumps, or there may be +reason why another suit should be preferred.</p> +<p>If the player who proposes to be Ombre has a safe game in his hand +- five <i>Matadores</i>, for example - he names the trump and elects +to play <i>Sans-prendre</i>, that is to say, without discarding. +Whoever plays <i>Sans-prendre</i>, if he win, receives three counters +from each of the other players, and pays three counters to each if he +should lose the game.</p> +<p>When the Ombre plays <i>Sans-Prendre</i>, his opponents have more +cards from which to draw, and the first who discards is even free to +change all his nine cards; but he usually limits his discard to six +or seven, and avoids encroachment on the share of the next player. +The two who play against the Ombre are only half in the position of +partners at whist, because one of them, when his hand is strong enough, +can be the only winner.</p> +<p>The hands having been thus settled, the game begins, from the hand +on the right of the dealer. After a trick has been taken, the +lead, as at other games, is with the winner of the trick, the order +of play being still from left to right.</p> +<p>As at whist, a suit led must be followed, and a player who cannot +follow suit is not obliged to play a trump unless he please.</p> +<p>If the first player who follows the Ombre’s lead with a better +card, and has in his hand so good a game that he desires, by winning +the trick, to obtain the lead, he declares that aloud by saying <i>Gano</i>, +that is, “I win.” His partner then lets him win, if +he can. Thus, Ombre has played a spade, which the next player +wins with the Queen, saying <i>Gano</i> when he does so. If the +third player has the King in his hand he refrains from playing it, unless +he have no spade in his hand of smaller value, in which case he is obliged +to follow suit and win the trick against his partner. Where the +lead is urgently desired, not for a personal gain of more tricks than +the Ombre, which is called <i>Codille</i>, but to defend the stake, +and the third player is seen to hesitate, <i>Gano</i> may be pressed +for, three times, “Gano, if possible.” When Ombre +was played by gambling courtiers under Queen Anne and George I., all +such words spoken in the game had to be given strictly in the Spanish +form, which was, in this case, <i>Yo Gano, si se puede.</i></p> +<p>Ombre, to win the stake, must make five tricks; but he can win with +four if the other five are so divided between his antagonists that one +has only three of them, the other only two. If one of the two +defenders of the stakes, playing against Ombre, does not feel almost +sure that he can win at least three tricks, with a chance of the fourth, +he should win one, and try to avoid winning more, but help whatever +chance his partner seems to have of winning four, because Ombre wins +with four when each of the other players has won less than four.</p> +<p>If Ombre lose he is said to be Beasted. Whoever loses is said +to be Beasted. Whoever is Beasted has to pay to the board counters +of the value of what the Ombre takes up if he wins. When players +were beasted for revokes and other oversights in play, the fines were +heavy upon carelessness.</p> +<p>At the end of the game tricks are counted. When Ombre wins +he takes the stakes; when he loses the two opponents will divide the +stakes between them, unless one of them should have taken more tricks +than the Ombre, in which case that one is said to have won <i>Codille</i>. +Whoever wins <i>Codille</i> takes all the stake the Ombre played for. +For this reason it was not thought creditable for any one to call <i>Gano</i> +who had four tricks in his hand, as by so doing he would only be inducing +the other player against Ombre to give up to him his half of the winnings. +Each player against the Ombre aims at <i>Codille</i> when he thinks +it within reach, but in that case it used to be held very bad manners +to win by calling <i>Gano</i>. When one of the players against +the Ombre must either give <i>Codille</i> to the other or let the Ombre +win, he gives the <i>Codille</i>. For if the Ombre be beasted +he has to replace the stakes. But if the Ombre wins, both of the +players against him have to stake again. If any one wins all the +nine tricks he is said to have won the <i>Vole</i>, and clears all stakes +upon the table.</p> +<p>Belinda, in the <i>Rape of the Lock</i>, having looked at her hand, +named trumps -</p> +<p>“‘Let spades be trumps,’ she said, and trumps they +were.”</p> +<p>She chose that suit because she had not only the King but also the +two of Spades, and two of trumps, called <i>Manille</i>, is the second +best trump after <i>Spadille</i>. Her hand contained also the +Ace of Spades, “unconquerable lord” <i>Spadille</i>, and +the third trump, <i>Basto</i>, Ace of Clubs. By making spades +trumps she secured the addition of <i>Manille</i>. The three best +trumps secured her the three best tricks. <i>Spadille</i> and +<i>Manille</i> fetched small trumps out of the hands of her antagonists. +<i>Basto</i> brought a trump out of the Baron’s suit, that also +held the Knave and Queen of trumps, and a small card from the other +hand, which showed that it was out of trumps. Then came Belinda’s +King of trumps, to win her fourth sure trick, and the Baron, who still +had his best trumps in his hand, the Knave and Queen, lost the Knave +to it.</p> +<p>After this the Baron’s Queen of trumps was the best card, and +Belinda, with no more trumps in her hand, or possibly the other player, +sacrificed the King of Clubs to it.</p> +<p>Trumps being exhausted, and the Baron having won a trick and the +lead, it is his turn now to win three tricks in succession with the +King, Queen, and Knave of Diamonds. At the third round of the +Diamonds Belinda has left in her hand only the King and Queen of Hearts. +She gives up the Queen.</p> +<p>Each has now four tricks. It is the Baron’s lead. +If his card be best he has more tricks than the Ombre, and will win +<i>Codille</i>. If his card be a club or a diamond - spades are +played out - Belinda’s King of Hearts will be unable to follow +suit. He will be taken. Thus is she “between the jaws +of ruin and codille.” But should his last card be a heart +- she has the best heart -</p> +<p>“An Ace of Hearts steps forth: the King unseen<br />Lurked +in her hand, and mourned his captive Queen.<br />He springs to vengeance +with an eager pace,<br />And falls like thunder on the prostrate Ace.<br />The +nymph exulting, fills with shouts the sky,<br />The walls, the woods, +the long canals reply.”</p> +<p>In addition to the stakes she won, Belinda was entitled also to the +value of four counters from each of her antagonists for her sequence +of four <i>Matadores</i>, <i>Spadille</i>, <i>Manille</i>, <i>Basto</i>, +and the King of Spades. Furthermore, if she had been playing <i>Sans</i>-<i>prendre</i>, +each of her opponents would have three counters to pay her.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PLAYFUL POEMS ***</p> +<pre> + +******This file should be named plpm10h.htm or plpm10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, plpm11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, plpm10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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