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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. 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 +</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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