Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life Being several Feigned Stories, Comical, Tragical, Tragi-comical, Poetical, Romancical, Philosophical, Historical, and Moral: Some in Verse, some in Prose; some Mixt, and some by Dialogues. Written by the Thrice Noble, Illustrious, and most Excellent Princess, The Duchess of Newcastle [i.e. Margaret Cavendish]. The Second Edition |
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The Duke of Newcastle's Description of the
Beggars Marriage.
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 | Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life |  |
The Duke of Newcastle's Description of the Beggars Marriage.
While'om, there was a Ragged Beggar old,
Who in his time full fourscore Winters told;
His Head all frozen, Beard long, white as Snow,
With a staff's prop, for else he could not go:
With bleared Eyes, all parched, dry, and cold;
With shaking-Palsie, little could he hold:
His Clothes so tatter'd, for they were so worn,
Older than he, in many pieces torn:
The subtill'st Brain, and prying'st Eye, those seen,
Both could not guess what stuff they'd ever been.
On's Cloak more several Patches there did stick,
Than labour'd Algebra's Arithmetick
Could once tell how to number; and was fuller,
Than was the Rainbow, of each various Colour,
But not so fresh; so faded when th'were seen,
That none could guess which red, which blew, which green.
His Turf-house lean'd to an old stump of Oak;
A hole at top there for to void the Smoak
Of stollen scatter'd Boughs; could not be fed
But by his daily begging daily bread.
There on his little Bench I'le leave him, then
Within a while I'le speak of him again.
Who in his time full fourscore Winters told;
His Head all frozen, Beard long, white as Snow,
With a staff's prop, for else he could not go:
With bleared Eyes, all parched, dry, and cold;
With shaking-Palsie, little could he hold:
His Clothes so tatter'd, for they were so worn,
Older than he, in many pieces torn:
The subtill'st Brain, and prying'st Eye, those seen,
Both could not guess what stuff they'd ever been.
On's Cloak more several Patches there did stick,
Than labour'd Algebra's Arithmetick
Could once tell how to number; and was fuller,
Than was the Rainbow, of each various Colour,
But not so fresh; so faded when th'were seen,
That none could guess which red, which blew, which green.
His Turf-house lean'd to an old stump of Oak;
A hole at top there for to void the Smoak
Of stollen scatter'd Boughs; could not be fed
But by his daily begging daily bread.
There on his little Bench I'le leave him, then
Within a while I'le speak of him again.
142
A wither'd Beggar-woman, little sundred
From him, who all the Town said, was a hundred:
Toothless she was, nay more, worn all her Gums,
And all her Fingers too were worn to Thumbs:
Wrinkles, deep Graves to bury all delight;
Eyes now sunk holes, little she had of sight,
Little could speak, as little sense could tell;
Seldom she heard, sometimes the great Towns-bell:
A long forgetfulness her Legs had seiz'd;
For many years her Crutches them had eas'd:
Clothes, thousand rags torn with the wind & weather,
Her Huswifry long since had sew'd together.
No Livelihood, but Charity grown cold
As she was, this more than her years made old.
From him, who all the Town said, was a hundred:
Toothless she was, nay more, worn all her Gums,
And all her Fingers too were worn to Thumbs:
Wrinkles, deep Graves to bury all delight;
Eyes now sunk holes, little she had of sight,
Little could speak, as little sense could tell;
Seldom she heard, sometimes the great Towns-bell:
A long forgetfulness her Legs had seiz'd;
For many years her Crutches them had eas'd:
Clothes, thousand rags torn with the wind & weather,
Her Huswifry long since had sew'd together.
No Livelihood, but Charity grown cold
As she was, this more than her years made old.
In a hot Summer's day, they out did creep,
Enliven'd just like Flyes, for else they sleep;
Creeping, at last each one to other get,
Lousing each other, kindly thus they met:
Apollo's Master-piece shining, did aim
To light dead ashes sparks, not make a flame
To stir up Nature in them, now so cold,
And whether Cupid dwelt in them who're old:
Now Heat and Kindness made him try to kiss her;
Her Palsi'd Head so shak'd, he still did miss her:
He thought it Modesty; she 'gainst her will,
Striving to please him, could not hold it still:
She mumbl'd, but he could not understand her:
He cry'd, Sweet Hero, I'le be thy Leander:
She said, Before we met, cold as a stone is,
I was; but now am Venus, thou Adonis.
Such heights of Passion's-love utter'd these two,
As youngest Lovers, when they 'gin to woo:
For Cupid, reign o're Mankind still will have;
He governs from the Cradle to the Grave.
Their Virtue's such, they would not sin, nor tarry,
So heated, vow'd a Contract, then to marry.
Enliven'd just like Flyes, for else they sleep;
Creeping, at last each one to other get,
Lousing each other, kindly thus they met:
Apollo's Master-piece shining, did aim
To light dead ashes sparks, not make a flame
To stir up Nature in them, now so cold,
And whether Cupid dwelt in them who're old:
Now Heat and Kindness made him try to kiss her;
Her Palsi'd Head so shak'd, he still did miss her:
He thought it Modesty; she 'gainst her will,
Striving to please him, could not hold it still:
She mumbl'd, but he could not understand her:
He cry'd, Sweet Hero, I'le be thy Leander:
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I was; but now am Venus, thou Adonis.
Such heights of Passion's-love utter'd these two,
As youngest Lovers, when they 'gin to woo:
For Cupid, reign o're Mankind still will have;
He governs from the Cradle to the Grave.
Their Virtue's such, they would not sin, nor tarry,
So heated, vow'd a Contract, then to marry.
This Marriage now divulg'd was every where
To neighbour Beggars, Beggars far and near;
The Day appointed, and the Marriage set,
The Lame, the Blind, the Deaf, they all were met:
Such throngs of Beggars, Women, Children, seen,
Muster'd all on the Town's fair Grassy-Green:
The Bridegroom's led between two Lame men, so,
Because our Bridegroom fast he could not go.
The Bride was led by Blind-men; him behind,
Because you know that Love is always blind.
The Hedg-Priest then was call'd for, did him bring,
Marri'd them both with an old Curtain-Ring:
No Father there was found, or could be ever;
She was so old, that there was none to give her.
With acclamations now of louder joy,
Pray'd Hymen Priapus to send a boy,
To shew a Miracle; in Vows most deep
The Parish swore their Children all to keep.
Then Tom-a-Bedlam wound his Horn, at best;
Their Trumpet now, to bring away the Feast;
Pick'd Marrow-bones they had found in the Street,
Carrots kick'd out of Kennels with their feet;
Crusts gather'd up, for Bisket, 'twas so dri'd,
Alms-tubs Olio Podridoes had beside:
Many such Dishes had, but it would cumber
Any to name them; more than I can number.
Then came the Banquet (that must never fail)
Which the Town gave, that's White-bread, & strong Ale.
Each was so tipsie, that they could not go,
And yet would dance, and cry'd for Musick Ho;
Gridirons and Tongs, with Keys, they play'd on too,
And blind-men sung to them, as use to do:
Some whistled then, and hollow sticks did sound,
And thus melodiously they play'd a Round:
Lame Men, lame Women, mingled, said, Advance;
And so, all limping, jovially did dance:
The Deaf-men too, for they could not forbear
When they saw this, although they did not hear,
Which was their happiness. Now to his House
The Bridegroom brought the Bride, each drunk as Mouse.
No room for any but them two, they saw,
So laid them both in bed of good fresh Straw.
Then took their leave, put out their Rushen-light;
But they themselves did revel all the Night.
The Bridegroom ruffles now, kiss'd, and said, Friend;
But when he kiss'd, thought 'twas at t'other End,
And cry'd-her-mercy, said he could not look,
It was so dark, and thought he had mistook.
To neighbour Beggars, Beggars far and near;
The Day appointed, and the Marriage set,
The Lame, the Blind, the Deaf, they all were met:
Such throngs of Beggars, Women, Children, seen,
Muster'd all on the Town's fair Grassy-Green:
The Bridegroom's led between two Lame men, so,
Because our Bridegroom fast he could not go.
The Bride was led by Blind-men; him behind,
Because you know that Love is always blind.
The Hedg-Priest then was call'd for, did him bring,
Marri'd them both with an old Curtain-Ring:
No Father there was found, or could be ever;
She was so old, that there was none to give her.
With acclamations now of louder joy,
Pray'd Hymen Priapus to send a boy,
To shew a Miracle; in Vows most deep
The Parish swore their Children all to keep.
Then Tom-a-Bedlam wound his Horn, at best;
Their Trumpet now, to bring away the Feast;
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Carrots kick'd out of Kennels with their feet;
Crusts gather'd up, for Bisket, 'twas so dri'd,
Alms-tubs Olio Podridoes had beside:
Many such Dishes had, but it would cumber
Any to name them; more than I can number.
Then came the Banquet (that must never fail)
Which the Town gave, that's White-bread, & strong Ale.
Each was so tipsie, that they could not go,
And yet would dance, and cry'd for Musick Ho;
Gridirons and Tongs, with Keys, they play'd on too,
And blind-men sung to them, as use to do:
Some whistled then, and hollow sticks did sound,
And thus melodiously they play'd a Round:
Lame Men, lame Women, mingled, said, Advance;
And so, all limping, jovially did dance:
The Deaf-men too, for they could not forbear
When they saw this, although they did not hear,
Which was their happiness. Now to his House
The Bridegroom brought the Bride, each drunk as Mouse.
No room for any but them two, they saw,
So laid them both in bed of good fresh Straw.
Then took their leave, put out their Rushen-light;
But they themselves did revel all the Night.
The Bridegroom ruffles now, kiss'd, and said, Friend;
But when he kiss'd, thought 'twas at t'other End,
And cry'd-her-mercy, said he could not look,
It was so dark, and thought he had mistook.
145
No, said the Bride most sweetly, you are right,
As if our Taper here was shining bright.
Now Love's Hesperides would touch the same,
That Place, O Place! which Place no tongue should name.
She, gentle Dame, with roving hand, indeed,
Instead of Crutches, found a broken Reed.
They both, now fill'd with Ale, Brains in't did steep;
So, arm in arm, our Lovers fell asleep.
So for the Will, though nothing else indeed,
To Love the Beggars built a Pyramid.
As if our Taper here was shining bright.
Now Love's Hesperides would touch the same,
That Place, O Place! which Place no tongue should name.
She, gentle Dame, with roving hand, indeed,
Instead of Crutches, found a broken Reed.
They both, now fill'd with Ale, Brains in't did steep;
So, arm in arm, our Lovers fell asleep.
So for the Will, though nothing else indeed,
To Love the Beggars built a Pyramid.
| Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life | |