University of Virginia Library

Sign of the Lamb, near Ludgate, you may find,
The sign is emblem of the owner's mind.
Emanuel Cooper dwelleth in that place,
A Mercer, with an yvir smiling-face,
Speking so soft, and pityfull, and meek,
It seems he rather bleateth than doth speke;
All pepil that do pass he humbly greets,
Nay, when the wanton stops him in the streets,
Though he doth most abhor the harlot's waies,
That she will let him go, he softly praies;
Although she holds him fast he will not swear,
But, yvir-smiling, doth intreat her fair.—
He hath heard his Onkil say there is ne vice
He mote eschew like Harlotry and Dice;
Harlots make men unfit to get an heir,
And Dice consume all that the Harlots spare.
This Onkil is a Scriv'nir in the Strond,
Is rich, and lendeth money upon lond,
A batchellor, and old, and dredeful sly,
And trustith not to possibility:
For he will see Emanuel have a son,
Before he builds the house at Edmonton,
With golden letters wrote upon the wall,
Advising folk to name it Cooper-hall.

The way Emanuel toke to get a wife
Is subject of this Tale, and best of all his life.
Emanuel hath near served out his years,
Having ne vice at all the Onkil fears;
Ne cause the Onkil hath to be afraid,
Vice hath he none, but craftyness of trade.
And now above a month his mastir's gone
To drink the rede cow's milk at Yslington,
And yvery day they loke for him to die
Of a Consomption and the Lipprosie;
And for that he doth trust Emanuel,
He leaveth him alone to buy and sell.
His Dame was brought up high, and knows not trade,
To an Earl's Countess was she waiting-maid;
Posys for rings contrives, and rhimes indites,
And can discourse either with Squires or Knights,
Having quaint terms and phrases to propound,
Which those that dwell by Poul's cannot expound.
But she hath long been very sick, and vows
How she hath got the sickness of her spouse;
Her Husband's kindred also do proclaim,
How he hath got the sickness of the Dame;
That she hath secret drogues, and but pretends
To use the drogues her Husband's doctor sends:
And so by following another course,
She is grown better, and the Husband worse.
His Doctor says, that she is whole and pure,
And doubteth not that he hath done the cure:
Her Spouse will not be cur'd, the Doctor sees,
Because of complication of disease.
Doctor and Isabell maintain it still,
That Isabell was smit by Richard's ill;
Richard rejoices she hath gained helth,
Maketh his will, and leaveth her his welth.

Isabell's eye hath notic'd many a time,
Emanuel Cooper entering in his prime,
And hath delighted, many a time, to see
Soch perfect maiden-like simplicitie.
One evening in her chamber she will sup,
And bids the Maid to call Emanuel up;
Bloshing, and hanging down his heade, he comes,
Sitting him down, and loking at his thumbs.—
Upon the bed by her she makes him sit,
And helpeth him to yvery dainty bit;
Come, saies the Dame, filling a cup quite up,
Take off this wine, I will not bate a sup;
Unto my Mastir's helth, quoth he, and drinks it dry;
Lord, take his soul, saies she, and falls to cry,
Name him no more, for it will break my heart,
The Doctor saies, that he shall soon depart,
And also saies, that when my Spouse is slain
I shall not after him long time remain:
By sympathy his malady I have,
And sympathy shall join us in the grave:
The remedy for sympathy is sure,
But it is one I nivir will endure.
Quoth then Emanuel, weeping as he spoke,
Your case would pierce a heart, if it was oak;
Bot if you slay the life that you may spare,
It is a sin as dedely as despair.
You speke devout, quoth she, but Heaven's a friend
To all that mean no ill, when they offend.
Quoth he, that is but sotelty , I fear,
For where the law is plain, the fault is clear;
It is not written, that you shall not kill?
Therefor the crime is both in deed and will.
I do confess, quoth she, stroaking her ring,
Deep is the judgement of your reasoning.—
Besides, saies he, my Mastir may mend yet;
With that at once she falls into a fit,
Catches Emanuel by the hand, and saies,
For mercy's sake, Emanuel, cut my staies.
Emanuel takes a knife and cuts the string,
And Isabell about his waist doth cling:
Feel but my heart, saies she, how it doth beat,
Put in your hand, Emanuel, farther, sweet.
In sooth, quoth he, you are in piteous hap,
The maid had best come up:—I'll give a rap.
No, no, quoth she, I thank you for your love,
Sit down upon the bed, you shall not move;
Pity for me hath wrought in your distress,
Another cup will cure your hevyness.
The wine, to make it richer cordial,
Mingled the Dame Cantharides withall;
Emanuel drinks it up, the wine is choice,
Wipeth his mouth, and cleareth up his voice:
Madam, quoth he, if Heaven doth intend
To take away my Mastir, and my friend,
The bysness of the shop I'le undertake,
Both for your own, and for my Mastir's sake.
In that I am contented well, quoth she,
Could I but take the Cure for Sympathy:
It is a filthy cure—Emanuel, mark;
You may suppose yourself to be the spark:
Take a young spark, it says, and let him be
A maid and modest, not past twenty-three:—
From twenty-three shall he begin to count,
And do the deed till he to thirty mount;
And he must secret swear; and also both
Shall bind their member with a fearfull oath,
That neither he nor she shall find delite,
But do the act as if it was for spite.
Quoth then Emanuel, stiff as any stake,
For now the wine hath made him quite awake,
As to the maiden-term am not afraid;
As Blessed Mary, am I very maid;
I am but three and twenty yesterday;
But for the oath I know not what to say;
I am content myself it so should be,
If that the members also will agree.
That's in your power, saies she, there is no doubt,
If you'll not think of what you are about;
You must continue, when you are occupy'd,
To think of any other thing beside,
For instance; when you are arrived there,
Keep thinking of a rabbit or a hare—
And we need never feel, nor know no more
Than doth the shuttle-cock and battle-dore;
Without more words, this treaty shall have force,
And all the rest are only forms of course.
Leave we the parties interchangeably,
To take the solemn oath, and ratify.
They both went on, thinking and nothing saying,
Till the last payment of the sum was paying;
And then Emanuel cried out, I find
I cannot keep the hare within my mind;
When once you fall a spinning like a top,
Rabbit and hare out of my mind do hop.—
Go on, you fool, saies she, What makes you stop.
The sum is paid, yet still in bed they lay;
Her sympathy is not quite sweat away:
Up stairs the maiden comes, raps at the dore,
Shouting, my Mastir's dede for yvirmore;
His man from Yslington doth say, below,
That he went off as any child shall go.
Shout not, the Dame replies, I understand,
Holding Emanuel's handle in her hand:
Run to the Undertaker of our street;
I fear me Richard will not long keep sweet:
I go, quoth she, Emanuel, this day,
Too far for health to lose it in the way;
And as it needs must be provoking pain
To run this race of penitence again,
And as—your three and twentieth year is out,
It is but safe to take another bout:
If this had been but a pretence or trick,
She mote have pleaded false Arithmetick;
But, as she fairly own'd the whole receipt,
It's evident she had no design to cheat;
And so Emanuel, after some pause,
Mended the bill, and put in a new clause.—

I will not paint the dismal funeral,
The Wedo's lamentations tragical;
Whoso delighteth to depicture woe
Richly deserveth wretchedness allso:
Yet can I not describe, without a sigh,
The penalties that wait on perjury.
Emanuel is foresworn; it is his doom
To languish with one foot within the tomb:
For three whole moons in raging pain he lay—
The fourth the perjur'd limb is snatch'd away—
Heaven is appeas'd at last, Emanuel sound,
And for so small a loss glad to compound.
What great Philosophers observe is true,
Allthough a Member will not grow anew;
Yet, notwithstanding this, the member brother
Fares better for the absence of the other;
For, when they go together in a pair,
The next surviving brother is the heir;
But if they're single, and the right not plain,
The benefit devolves upon the brain;
And thus Emanuel, having need of it,
Receives a pritty legacy in wit:
He gives the Potiker and Surgeon fee
To keep the loss of Member secrecy.

No longer to the Chainge Emanuel resorts,
He is allwaies at the Stews and Inns of Courts;
He drinks and beats the Watch, lies out anights,
Living with Lawyers Clerks and wicked Wights.—
In greatest grief is interval of ease;
One day the Wedoe seizeth one of these,
Calleth Emanuel, sheweth plain the case,
How, from the lewdness of his last embrace,
It happens that she is not healid quite—
Trie to be more compos'd, saies she to-night.
Compos'd! Emanuel saith, it cannot be;
With you I needs must feel felicitie.
To do an act like this from generous sense,
Without desire, is true benevolence:
Benevolence belongs to marry'd life;
'Tis what the Law bestows upon a Wife.
Benevolence, for Lawyers various speak,
Some say is once a month, some once a week;
However, from the whole, it doth appear,
One should not put it off beyond the year.
I own there is another sentiment,
That once in a whole life-time is sufficient.
Benevolence, say these puzzlers and confounders,
Is just the same as riding of the bounders.
Emanuel, quoth she, I cannot guess,
Whether your Modesty or Wit is less;
Wit, in a Mercer, is both sin and shame;
Return it to the stews, from whence it came.—
I value, not, quoth he, your wipes a straw—
I find great use in studying of the Law:
And now observe—To all and singular,
Emanuel Cooper hereby doth declare,
By virtue of Recovery and Surrender,
It is agreed between him and his Member,
That he, the said Emanuel, shall direct,
And, for the future, shew him no respect;
And he, the said Emanuel, doth disclaim
All further sinfull knowledge of his Dame,
In any fashion, or in any place,
At any time, or upon any case:
Provided, and it is hereby agreed,
If he and she to marrying accede,
This shall by no means hinder the good man,
Then and at all times, to perform the best he can.—

This crafty Covenant between these twain,
Hath made the Wedo think till thinking's vain;
And finding now no hope on other score,
Resolves at once, and doubteth nivir more—
Calleth her friends, maketh for life the lease,
And sleepeth with Emanuel in peace;
And, to complete his and the Onkil's joy,
Bringeth him once a year a curios boy;
And now the Onkil's dead, and they have all
And keep their Christenmas at Cowper-hall.