University of Virginia Library

OVID TRAVESTIE Epist. II. Leander to Hero.

His best respects and love, d'ye hear ho,
Leander sends to Peerless Hero.
I'de come my self willing enough,
Were not the Thames so plaugy rough?
I'd strait launch o're to the Bank-side,
And never stay for the next Tide:
And faith and troth, my mind does gee me
You'r woundy mad you cannot see me.
If Gammer Fortune, and young Cupid,
Han't both agreed to make you stupid.
But my luck's out, for why else 'trow,
Can't I swim as I use to do?
You see your self through strange mishap,
The Skyes looks just like a black Cap;
'Tis not so much as tipt with white,
But full as dark as if 'twere night;
Besides the winds so dash the water,
About that it begins to Lather.
So if this trade hold e're long I hope,
There'l be no need of Castle-soap.
Nay more then that I dare alledge,
'Tis safer shooting London-bridge;
Than crossing o're the water to you,
Therefore I send you this how do you,
By this most dastaring of all wights,
VVho was in all the last Dutch Fights:
And there he learn't to be no coward,
For sometimes he'd at a rope tow hard.
VVhen the waves thought it no disgrace,
To spit in my bold Seamans face.
This rogue thrusts out when ne're a Boat,
Besides himself would stir a Foot.
And I myself resolv'd to go,
In spight o'th wind and help him row.
But when we'd cry'd thrice, who's for over
Unhook't the head, and put a cover
Of Tilt upon't, I saw a power
Of folks on Baynards-Castle Tower.
Among the rest my Master sat,
Gazing upon—the Lord knows what
And then I knew, I could not go yet,
Unless i'de have the world should know it:
For had I ventur'd on this jaunt,
My Master needs must know my haunt.
He might guess without casting spells,
'Twas to a wench or something else:
For what could make me trapes o're thither,
Specially in such stormy weather?
He knew that such tricks, a young Prentice
Ne're leaves till all his money spent is.
Therefore I thought it my best way,
To come a shore again and stay:
And 'cause I could not see my wench,
I sate me down upon the bench;
By'th water-side, and on my knee,
I wrote this Letter presently.
Yet nevertheless while I did do it,
I could not lin from talking to it.
Go most happy Letter said I,
And kiss the hand of my fair Lady:
A hand will make you pale to see,
That it is whiter far then thee.
And when that's done you may perhaps,
B' advanc'd up to her greasie chaps:
For Hero, soon as e're she seeth,
My Letter with her butterteeth
Will gnaw the wax of, that she may,
Know what her sweet-heart has to say.
With teeth I mean as white as butter,
Just after this sort did I mutter.
And then I took my hand that's best,
To write i'th Paper all the rest.
Although my hand (what e'res the matter,)
Had rather dabled in the water.
Oh! how it loves to dash and strike oft,
The waves! you never saw the like of't.
And yet this hand will write as well,
As any hand in twenty mile.
'Twas this day sennit, though I swear,
It seems to me 'bove half a year.
When the Thames water that's our parter,
First began to make a quarter.
It roars like Drum, when Army marches,
And louder than it does at th'Arches.
Yet now (I hope) this noise no moræing,
Will in our ears, 'tis hoarse with roaring.
If I have slept a wink this sennight,
May't always be as dark as when night.
May the winds let me ne're be seen,
A 'tother side the Thames again.
But make it still so rough and bad,
And flounce, and bounce, as if 'twere mad.
All night and day I sit o'th stairs,
And make me spectacles of tears.
I glaze my eyes, that so I may,
Like Cats see's well by night as day.
Then cast my eyes a 'tother side,
Where soon as e're I have espy'd:
Your house, I wish my self a witch;
For then i'de quickly leap the Ditch.
I'de mount a Cole-staff, and so trot o're,
The water better then an Otter.
I fancy too I see the wind blow
Your watch-light in the Garret window:
And then sometimes I am in doubt,
Whether the wind hath blow'd it out.
Thrice I doft all my cloaths, and then,
Three times I don'd 'um all agen:
For th'wind and tyde were both so strong,
I was not able to stand long
Without a fall, the eddes suck't
Me in so I was always duck't.
But you rogue Boreas with a P---t'ee,
pray what's the reason you so boxt me?
The cursed Villain made more billows,
Then all the rest off's huffing fellows.
Think you, you stinking Ragamuffin,
The River cares a f--- for your puffing?
No, no, you fool! with all your pother,
You plague me more then any other.
Had not young Cupid tam'd your fury,
Pray who the Devil could endure you.
Although your worship is so sower,
I know the time you kept a whore.
And us'd to go like any spark,
A wooing into Whet-stones Park.
I wonder what a Plague you'd say,
Should any one stop up your way:
You could not chuse but take it ill,
Should you be serv'd as you serve Will?
Good honest friend be'nt so outragious,
As e're you hope to have your wages;
From Goodman Æol, who you know,
Care's not whom he gis a blow.
So may he ne're in Bladders sell ye,
Nor keep you Prisoner in his Belly.
Nor send you out a puffing sails,
When it is better blowing nails.
But may he make that for your pitty
To me, a freeman of the City.
I'de better keep my breath for Porrage,
He will not hearken to me for rage;
But huffs and puffs, and keeps a clutter,
Answering ne're a word I mutter.
And let poor I do what I will,
He won't make one wave to lye still.
Ah! would there were a strong rope ty'd,
Quite cross the Thames, how I would slide
O're to thee! I durst lay a spanck—
Far, better then a Mountebanck.
Faith it would be a pritty trick,
But that there's danger of ones neck.
Pish? hang my neck I car'nt a f---
For ought but thee mine own sweet-heart
Would I were once but on the rope
Well daub'd all o're with grease or soap.
I'de swim down on't with as much ease,
As if I were upon the Seas.
But when I see no hope of going,
I think upon our former wooing.
The first time was much about night,
And yet I think 'twas something light.
I shut uP shop as I was wont,
(It does me good to think upon't)
And stole out of my Masters door,
Who little thought I kept a whore.
Then ran down to the water-side,
Where soon as e're I had espy'd:
The coast clear, without more ado,
Doffing my cloaths and my fear too;
I launch'd with all my might and main,
And presently was out of pain.
A wench I knew her by her wink boy,
Lighted me better then a Link-boy:
She went before me all the way,
I thank her 'twas as light as day.
When I first spy'd her I cal'd to her,
Fair Maid have pitty on a wooer:
Who's almost droun'd in this dark night,
And think upon the sweet delight;
You use to have with your dear Will,
At London-stone, on Cannon-hill.
Lovers are always most kind hearted,
Pray let not us two now be parted:
For want of light, but face about,
And for once help a poor thief out.
Although you are a Chamber-maid,
Yet once you lov'd a Man of trade.
And I poor Tradesman. to tell true,
Love such a Chamber-maid as you.
What should I tell how well she's bred,
I dare lay sixpence on her head:
There's ne're a Damsel small or great,
Shall make a curtsey half so neat.
And though I say't she is so fair,
No Goddess can with her compare;
Besides your self and Rosamond
There ne're was such a beauty found.
Well if you won't believe My word,
You may go see who cares a T---
Just as a light one scarce can handle,
Outshines a little Farthing-candle.
Ee'n so my sweet-heart will run down,
In beauty all the Maids i'th Town:
And if you say she comes behind
The handsom'st Lass, i'le swear you'r blind.
Just so or much after this rate,
VVhilst I swam o're I us'd to prate.
The wench I spoke of with the Lanthorn,
(And yet it look'd as if it wa'nt horn:
Jogg'd on before, and I came 'ater,
Her candle shone so in the water;
That, as I told you, I dare say,
The dark night was as light as day.
You could not hear one noise or hum,
But what the Thames made as I swum:
Onely some Bears that love the sport,
Of baiting, seem'd to grumble for't.
As soon as e're my arms were tir'd,
I long'd to see what I desir'd.
Turn'd on my back and quickly 'ater,
Let down my feet, and so trod water.
VViping my eyes, I chanc'd to spy
Your Candle burning, ah! quoth I:
VVould I was but a little nigher
'Twould warm my hands instead of fire.
On that Bank-side and no where else,
My pretty little Pigsnye dwells.
VVhen strait 'fore one could say what's this,
The Thames seem'd softer than it is;
And I my self began to feel,
My weary arms as strong as steel.
I am so hot what e're's the matter,
The cold ne're makes my teeth once chatter.
The Thames is always when I come here,
As hot as in the midst of Summer.
The nearer still I come to shore,
The abler am I to swim more.
As soon as e're I can be spy'd,
By thy sweet eyn a 'to'ther side:
Thy beautious face makes me more lusty,
Then doughty Knight in army rusty;
When for to please his Mistriss cruel,
He fights before her in a Duel.
Then do I strive in the best fashion,
To shew my skill in Navigation.
I strike out hands and feet most strongly,
Then shew you how I can too long lye
Upon the water and ne're stir,
My hand or foot which is admir—
Able you never saw a Span—
Niel swim half so well as I can.
I'me sure it does so well become me,
Your Nurse can hardly keep you from me.
You'd too forsooth fain turn a Diver,
And daggle Petticoat in River.
Faith any one may see how kind,
You are, unless he's dev'lish blind.
For ler old Nurse do what she could,
You came so nigh, you were wet-shod;
Then you catch hold about my neck,
And with warm lips buss my cold cheek.
Such loving busses that I swear,
No man would wish for better chear:
Though he were almost starv'd with cold,
They are busses for a man of Gold.
Then thou pul'st off thine own Petticoat,
That I may don't instead of my Coat.
If you have but a Smock t'your back,
I'me sure Leander shall not lack.
Then rub'st wet hair till 't look so fine,
No one can tell I have been in.
Then for the rest I need not show it,
Thou and I wench already know it
'Tis full as easie to count o're,
Every Pebble on the shore:
As tell the unspeakable delight
We two together had that night.
For when we saw our time was short,
We ply'd our business harder for't.
Just when the day began to blink
(For we could see it through a chink
O'th' Garret window) strait we had
A bussing bout, you'd think us mad
We did so slabber both our chops
And smack our lips as fast as hops.
Then curs'd we oft the peeping light
And wish'd the Devil had the night,
For being so short, one couldn't know
Where there was any night or no.
But while I linger Nurse with sad
Tone, tells me how 'tis time to Pad.
Then wiping eyes and nose with sleeve,
I scrape a leg, and take my leave.
But yet not so, Hero I say
Will go and bear me part o'th' way.
Then out we go howling and bawling,
Like Cats when met a catterwauling.
At last into the Thames I flounce,
(I hardly say 'twas for the nonce)
For it went sore against my Guts
That I must leave thee for the Suds.
Therefore like poor forsaken wight
I view thee till thou'rt out of sight.
If there be any truth in me Man,
Hither I come as brisk as Seaman
Does from the wars, to her he loves,
In silver Buttons, and knit Gloves.
When I go back, i'le tell thee what
I look no better than drown'd rat.
Nay more when e're I come to see thee,
Methinks the wind and tyde go wi'me.
When I go back, believ't who will
I fancy that I swim up hill.
I vow and swear I love to rome
And never care for going home.
I had as leeve e'en go to hanging
As once be from you, homewards ganging.
And I had rather far be there
Where you are (Honey!) then stay here.
Alack and well a day is't not a wonder
That we who're joyn'd in heart should live asunder.
Wo's me because the raining weather
Won't suffer us to come together.
And we that only have one heart,
Should in two places live a part.
Why can't you get a service here,
Or I an honest Master there.
You love our Town, if not bely'd,
As well as I do the Bank-side.
Why must I always be so troubled
When e're with wind Thames water's bubled
And little simple whistling puff,
Shall make Leander rage and huff.
You little think how well I'me known
Through all the watry Region.
The fish my amours all discover
And every Grig knows I me a Lover.
I've made a perfect Path quite cross,
And know't as well as track of horse.
I once was vext and curst like Jew
'Cause I was fain to launch it through.
But now the winds so flirt and skim,
About, I can't so much as swim.
The Thames too looks as white as Snow
VVith froth, 'tis toss'd so to and fro.
And Hoyes are scarce free from the shock,
In Billingsgate, or Queen-hith dock.
This River wild may well hath' name
Of Thames 'twil ne're be tame.
I would not care for horse or boat,
To cross, could I my self but float.
Would these curst waves would but lye still come whip sir
I'de be the Seaman Passenger and Ship sir.
I would not Sail by Seamans chart
Nor for your blind Stars would care a f---
I would not follow Dog or Cub,
The little bear or Dub a Dub.
Let who will look o'th' Mermaid sign,
Or Crown: they are no marke of mine.
Nor would I give one single Farden
To sail by th'light at the Bear-garden.
Or any other light beside
My Candle is a surer guide
VVhich blears out yonder all in vain
Because I cannot cross the Main.
But when I do that's still my mark,
And lights me, though 'tis ne're so dark.
VVhen I spy that I never quake-a,
But could swim by it e'ven to Jamaica.
Nay more then that to the world's end
If thou liv'dst there my pretty friend.
I would go round the Earth by water.
Better then Drake though I come after.
I could i'me sure, deny't who can,
Duck and dive better than Mer-man.
Sometimes when I am plaugy tir'd
I tell my arms how well they're hir'd.
And how they shall if they hold out
Their Mistriss Hero cling about.
Strait 'fore a Man can well tell five,
My weary arms again revive,
And towards their haven strike apace
As nimbly as horse runs in race.
See how I follow the old trade
And sue you that was never made
For me, you are too good a Woman
For any one under a Yeoman.
Yet either yeild to my desire,
Or tell me how I may be 'Squire.
I scarce can see you for my Master
Who when I go out cryes make hast sir.
That I durst take my oath, my mind is
More troubled then the Thames we wind is.
For what the better is't I wis
That our River so narrow is.
I'd's leeve you were at Pope's of Rome,
As be so nigh me here at home.
If I but fetch a Pail of water
My mind's troubled an hour after.
If I but go to buy red Herring,
I ask um if they saw my Dearing.
Then up and down I madly rove
As if that I were sure in love.
Your house so nigh is I have pist over,
And you again have often hist over.
And yet it seems as far from me
As Greenwich is, or Barbary.
I look upon the waters sourish
And cry methinks that sight is moorish.
I look towards th'house early or later,
And then at you my chaps do water.
So a poor little boy doth try,
In vain to catch the bob-cherry.
Must I ne're see my pritty whore's
Unless I take a pair of Oars.
Is our love, pray, so slightly ty'd
To be divided by each tyde.
Or suppose there be ne're a Scullar,
Or that all the Boats here quite full are.
And though nothing's so weak as water,
As hath been noted by our Slater.
In that is all my weal or woe
Whether I must now come or no.
'Tis Summer too that you must know,
What shall I do in Frost and Snow?
When thames is frozen o're 'od's bobnails,
And Boys do slide upon't with Hob nails.
When time shall come as 'twas of Yore,
All the water being froze o're.
Instead of having durt and mire on't,
It shall be clean and Men make fire on't.
But don't believe I do't to fright ye,
Or that I any way do slight ye.
Because I tell you what there may be,
As if I ask'd of you a cave.
No I protest that were a low thing,
Alas! I still cry Neck or nothing.
What Man is there will be a flincher,
VVhen he is once listed a wencher.
No i'le dost my leather Breeches,
And ne're fear the Cramp or Stitches.
If that I chance for to be drown'd,
Or e're to be catch'd in Lobs Pound.
VVell fare then cry your little Pander
My pretty Smock-fac'd Rogue Leander.
There's never a such a Man at VVappin,
His Mothers Shift him sure did wrap in.
He was the prettiest sneering Rogue,
He would so flatter and collogue.
But be you sure if I should dye
That thea you put finger in eye.
Be sullen and still sit i'th' dark:
Eat nothing but Pestle of Lark.
And hire some old musty Poet,
That th'whole versal world may know it,
Of our never failing loves,
VVith a Picture of two Doves.
But now no more of this, my Dear!
Thou'st dream of it to night I fear.
I know 'twould make thee mad as bitch,
If I should tell as true as witch.
Thou couldst find in thy heart to rent
This part o'th' Letter I have sent.
But prethee wench, leave off thy rooling:
I hope there'l be no need of whuling.
Fall down upon your marrow bones,
Pray buy a Cushion for the nonce.
And beg with all your might and main,
The winds would all lye still again.
I would desire but one half hour
Of good fair weather for this shower
Although 'twont melt one, yet I say
'T may chance to wash me all away.
VVere I but got on to'ther shore,
'T should rain as fast as't did before,
For me. Faith i'de not give him th s---
To have Rogue Boreas hold his peace.
For thete's for Boats an ample Dock
VVhere they'l lye safe as under Lock.
Secure from furious wind and tempest,
Good Stairs beside, and most like them best.
Then let wind huff and puff his heart
Out, for no body cares a F---
I'de see him hang'd then 'fore i'de venture
My life in's hand, without Indenture.
Nor would I at the rough winds scold, or
Ban; for they grew I think the bolder.
Nor cry out piteously, O grievous!
Because I saw the Thames so peevish.
Nay I should think my self much better'd
If hands and feet were doubly fetter'd.
If you, as Remora stops Ship,
Should hold me least I give the slip
If once 'twere fair enough ne're fear ye
I'de turn my self into a Wherry.
I'de row with hands, sans further pudder:
And stick a Pole in A--- for Rudder.
But Girle be sure hang out in sight:
At Garret window long watch-light.
Don't fail, for if you do by Cock
I may be split against a Rock.
In the mean while, wench! take my Letter,
It must be so since 'tis no betrer.
Carry't to bed we'you if you like 'um:
And fancy what we'l do when I come,
VVhich shall be soon as winds will let;
Though now we're far asunder; yet
Here rests your Servant to command her,
For ever and for age Leander.