University of Virginia Library

OVID TRAVESTIE. Epist. IV. Hero to Leander.

Just now I did receive my Dear,
Yours of the fourteenth instant here.
And what d'you think I'm ere the better
To kiss your dull kind-hearted Letter?
I am not able to live thus;
Come, come your self and giv's a buss.
E're since you left me 'thas been blew days
And ev'ry one as long as two days.
Could I but swim so well as you
In spight of th'Devill I would through.
S'bobs, I would be out done by no man;
Was I a man and you a woman:
How bravely would I play my part,
VVe VVomen are not worth a F---
You men can Hunt and Fish and Plow:
Alass poor Souls, we know not how.
You can thresh, when t'our shame be't spoke,
VVe can no more than man in Cloak.
You can to town drive team and Horses,
Sell Corn put money up in Purses.
And then go whistling into th'Harrow:
There drink your liquor like to Barrow-
Pigs, for an hour or two, then out
VVith Key and Purse, and lay down Groats,
VVell there's my Grannam she take's snuff,
And says she thinks you'r old enough,
To know your betters, and not make us
Tarry so long and for sear quake thus.
Why don't you come here and make much on's
If you are not made meat for Gudgeons.
You make one stare and swear like mad,
And scold, and wish the Devil had
The Thames for being so rough and boystr's
Well if there's e're a Quean buys Oysters,
That scolds so much at Gate call'd Billings.
I will be bound to give five shillings.
To tell you in good sober sadness
It makes me ev'n cry for madness.
Your Gloves you left when you ran staring
Away, will mould for want of wearing;
And yet I hang 'um by the Bellows:
I doubt (my Love) they are not fellows.
When't's dark, before there's e're a star yet
Up goes long Watchlight into Garret.
That when thou comest pickel'd like souse
Thou mayst be sure to find the house,
Then to keep heavy eyes awake
Old spinning wheel in hand I take:
And sing to cast off thoughts and cares,
When Troy Town for seven years wars.
Old Grannee nods, and I suppose
Keeps time too long with Shiptons nose.
Then up I start and unstring Wheel,
And cry, I wonder why the Dee'l.
This Rogue don't come, what does he think
I can sit up, not sleep a wink
All night, but sigh and sob and con
O're Robinhood and little John.
If our Dog Spot does howl or bark,
I cry out peace good Grannee, hark
The Rogue is landed now, i'le warrant.
Well Sirrah, if thou wast an arrant
Villain, thou wouldst Be hang'd before
Thou'dst stay so long, e're thou camest o're
Grannee and I pig in together
At last and sleep out all ill weather.
But e're I went to bed, I think
I'd eaten egg and salt sans drink.
For in, me thinks, like to drown'd Rat
Thou com'st, and down on breech dost squat
At head of bed, crying my Dear
'Ch'ave brought thee one good zoop of beer.
Then into bed whipt in a trice,
Fright'st me with feet as cold as Ice,
Wak'st me to boot, breakst dream: when still lo!
No creature's by me but my pillow.
Thou flipst like Eel from out of clutches
Although thy bulk as big as Dutch is.
The Thames indeed is woundy rough
Now, but last night 'twas smooth enough.
You might have come then here to land sir
As easily, as kist your hand Sir.
But you like Ninny must stand prating
And for fair wind and tide too waiting:
Till old time though he goes on Crutches,
Slips with his bald pate, out of Clutches.
Make hast you Rogue my fingers itch
To hug thee, just as Dev'l hug's Witch.
Let it raign Dogs and Cats, a fart for't.
I'le warrant then wee'd never part for't.
Where is thy wonted courage Sirrah:
Can a storm keep thee from thy Dear' a.
VVhat can wind make thee hold up snout
Like frighted pig, and grunt about:
Till thou hast found out warmer sty:
Alass! for pitty poor Pigsnie.
VVell I remember once, but when it
VVas, I can't tell; 'bout this day sennight.
Thou camest in with a powder hether
Inspight of blustring wind and weather.
But now thou layst ears close in Poll
Resolv'st to sleep in skin that's whole.
And for my part I think't not fitting,
A man should drown in ditch like Kitten.
No rather stay till storm is over:
So you rest too a faithful Lover.
But I'm a fear'd thou'lt not abide
Being Prentice brave, wench o'th' Bankside
VVould thou wast hang'd, ten times, before
Thou shou'd'st maintain a Rival whore.
VVould I were hang'd poor soul to boot,
For it would kill me shouldst thou doo't,
For ought I know 'tmay go so far
That for't thou may'st be call'd to Bar.
For sure my friends would see me righted,
If dead of grief for being slighted.
So thou'dst for sweet heart, joyned be
In true Love's knot to Gallow-tree.
But there's no fear, I warrant, wee'l
Prove to each other true as steel.
For if thou'lt be but faithfull ever
VVhen others fail, I will persever.
O fearful! what a grievous clatter
Here is between, this wind and water.
If 'twere but nere so little louder,
You'd swear curst Papists werewith Powder
Of Gun now blowing Thames or'e City,
To drownd poor Cits, sans any Pitty.
Or that great Whale was come up tumbling,
Through Br. with fearful noise & rumbling
To show himself with jaws so wide
In Booth at fair next Bartelm-tide.
Good Thames if thus you needs must roar
Go huff it at the boy ith' Nore.
And do not play these Roguish pranks
Between two honest civil banks:
The like to which ben't found in Europe,
If there be, hang me with a new rope.
If you'l drown; drown Lighters or Hoys,
But prethee spare poor harmless Boys.
My sweet-heart's none of those that use
To come a washing to the sluce,
And there like Rogues lay tails in water,
And fling't about in faces a'ter.
No he is; take him altogether,
As good as tread's on shooe of Leather.
O spare him he holds up my Chin:
And if he drown's, I must fall in.
VVell there's a stranger in the Candle
A bright one too, you Rogue who can tell
But it may be that knave Leander,
VVho can come where no other man dare?
My old Grannam's making posset,
VVe to your health in spoons will toss it
Come, come away you Rogue, and eat some
Since the fare over is no great sum.
VVhat's two-pence in your poke? in sooth
No more then Apple in Cow's mouth.
VVer't coming, if I could but know thee
I'de wade up to the ancles to thee.
I caren't a pin for being wet shod
No more then, for being neat-shod.
I cannot for my life be merry,
To think you'l venture ore sans wherry.
Yet to say true, I hope you shall
Come so, rather then not at all,
I hate with all my heart to slout ye
I'd as live be hang'd, as be without ye.
Take my word on't or here's my fist,
And a good one too, though I say't i'st.
But prithee have a care of Cramp,
Use remedies, as for examp—
Ple, wear bone Ring on thumb, or tye
Strong Pack-thread hard, below your thigh
For last night late to tell you true
My Candel as I sate burnt blew.
Which put poor me in horrid fright,
And expectation of black spright,
With Sawcer eyes, and horns and tail,
Alass! I was like ashes pale,
Prithee don't shew thy self fool-hardy,
And drown, because forsooth you dar dye.
For when you'r gone, there'l be no hope
For Hero but in Well or Rope
Come come, e're long 't may cease to rain,
Then all things will be well again.
In the mean time I'le write beneath
Your kind and faithful
Friend till Death.