 | The wits paraphras'd |  |
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PHÆDRA TO HYPOLYTVS.
The ARGUMENT.
Theseus the son of Ægeus having slain the Minotaur promised to Ariadne, the Daughter of Minos and Pasiphae, for the Assistance of which she gave him to carry her home with him, and make her his wife. So together with her sick Phædra they went on boord, and and sail'd to Chios, where being warn'd by Bacchus he left Ariadne, and Married her sister Phædra, who afterwards in Theseus her Husbands absence, fell in Love with Hypolytus her son in Law, who had vowed Celibacy, and was a hunter; wherefor since she cou'd notconveniently otherwise; she chose by this Epistle to give him an account of her passion.
If thou 'rt unkind my pretty Elf,
I shall go near to Hang my self.
Read this I pray, and then consider
What gripeings I have in my Blather.
Thus we by notes confer with ease
Which serve us in our privacies.
I shall go near to Hang my self.
Read this I pray, and then consider
What gripeings I have in my Blather.
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Which serve us in our privacies.
Thrice my sad Tale, e're I a word
Cou'd utter fell into a T---
I sham'd to say I was besh---
But what I blusht to speak, I writ.
'Tis dangerous to resist such motions,
The Gods themselves do take their potions:
They promis'd me to send thee hither,
That we might take a Doze together;
And with a pill or a Compound,
To purge thee of the weather-bound;
Yet when I first was marry'd, then he
Found me as neat as any penny.
But a Fice smother'd in the skin,
When it's not out, stinks wors within.
Cou'd utter fell into a T---
I sham'd to say I was besh---
But what I blusht to speak, I writ.
'Tis dangerous to resist such motions,
The Gods themselves do take their potions:
They promis'd me to send thee hither,
That we might take a Doze together;
And with a pill or a Compound,
To purge thee of the weather-bound;
Yet when I first was marry'd, then he
Found me as neat as any penny.
But a Fice smother'd in the skin,
When it's not out, stinks wors within.
As a young puppy learnt to fetch,
Is pincht and lasht, and strookt and scratcht:
So you resolve e're I be idle,
To make me bite upon the Bridle.
Is pincht and lasht, and strookt and scratcht:
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To make me bite upon the Bridle.
When Love was young the whore bepist her,
In riper years she took a glister.
To thee I mortgage Tick and feather,
Lets be undon, and bed together.
How can you spare the fruit that growes,
And still lyes bobbing at your Nose?
But now my Beauty had no match,
Shall I begin to paint and patch?
I for thy Love no hazard fear,
It is no Sin unless you swear.
Shou'd Juno give her (what de'e call it)
Id'e quit her Jove for my Hypolyt.
With thee I've wisht these many years,
To have a frisk amongst the Beares.
To dabble in the Bogs and fountains,
And drive the Beagles o're the Mountains.
To get a Green-gown while I lie
Oth' grass? Wou'd you stand pimping by?
In riper years she took a glister.
To thee I mortgage Tick and feather,
Lets be undon, and bed together.
How can you spare the fruit that growes,
And still lyes bobbing at your Nose?
But now my Beauty had no match,
Shall I begin to paint and patch?
I for thy Love no hazard fear,
It is no Sin unless you swear.
Shou'd Juno give her (what de'e call it)
Id'e quit her Jove for my Hypolyt.
With thee I've wisht these many years,
To have a frisk amongst the Beares.
To dabble in the Bogs and fountains,
And drive the Beagles o're the Mountains.
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Oth' grass? Wou'd you stand pimping by?
I have a little hand wheal-barrow,
And thick and thin I venture thorow.
Drunk in my Cups I stamp and stair,
Rageing, and mad as a march hare,
And make my self a very stalkhors
A mongst the Bulkers, and night walkers.
And whilst you are amongst your wenches,
I find my self where the shoo pinches.
And thick and thin I venture thorow.
Drunk in my Cups I stamp and stair,
Rageing, and mad as a march hare,
And make my self a very stalkhors
A mongst the Bulkers, and night walkers.
And whilst you are amongst your wenches,
I find my self where the shoo pinches.
Is it a Fate ith' Blood that Venus
With infamy resolves to stein us?
It is a blessed Generation
When whore and Rogue's all the Relation.
Europa long'd for a mad Bull,
And had of him her Belly full:
And to her shame I had a mother,
E'en as good at it as the other.
The Filer Theseus by my sister,
The Monster slew, for which he kist her.
The self same course my self am stearing,
There's nere a Barrell better Herring.
It was unlucky for us Both,
She lov'd the Father, I the youth:
Say then two sisters are undon,
Both by the Father and the son.
With infamy resolves to stein us?
It is a blessed Generation
When whore and Rogue's all the Relation.
Europa long'd for a mad Bull,
And had of him her Belly full:
And to her shame I had a mother,
E'en as good at it as the other.
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The Monster slew, for which he kist her.
The self same course my self am stearing,
There's nere a Barrell better Herring.
It was unlucky for us Both,
She lov'd the Father, I the youth:
Say then two sisters are undon,
Both by the Father and the son.
When first we met at Country farm,
Wou'd I had broke a Leg or arm.
Eleusis was the fatal place,
I wou'd I nere had seen that face;
That face so fair, for all to see,
Was an unlucky one to me.
Thy Drawers, Charcole-Wife, and Wast-coat,
Became thee better then a lac'd Coat.
At pleasure to slip on and doff,
As home, and plain as a pike-staff.
I Love it best, I will not flatter
Because it most resembles nature.
If thou but sneese or let a fart,
I smile, and say 'tis don with art;
Or see thee poise thy little Tool,
E'en any thing does please the Fool.
Wou'd I had broke a Leg or arm.
Eleusis was the fatal place,
I wou'd I nere had seen that face;
That face so fair, for all to see,
Was an unlucky one to me.
Thy Drawers, Charcole-Wife, and Wast-coat,
Became thee better then a lac'd Coat.
At pleasure to slip on and doff,
As home, and plain as a pike-staff.
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Because it most resembles nature.
If thou but sneese or let a fart,
I smile, and say 'tis don with art;
Or see thee poise thy little Tool,
E'en any thing does please the Fool.
But in the Woods pursue thy freaks
And meddle not with such a Jacques.
Must Country Trulls have all the sport
And starve the Ladyes of the Court?
For Heaven's sake Lad forbear high Toss,
Or thoul't come home by weeping Cross.
And meddle not with such a Jacques.
Must Country Trulls have all the sport
And starve the Ladyes of the Court?
For Heaven's sake Lad forbear high Toss,
Or thoul't come home by weeping Cross.
Famous was Cephalus the Kildog
For slaying many a Curr, and Milldog.
Yet him Eurora did bewitch,
Who left his old for a young Bitch.
Under a shade her amorous Boy
Venus did often occupie.
Atlantas lay with Meleager,
And did together for a wager.
For slaying many a Curr, and Milldog.
Yet him Eurora did bewitch,
Who left his old for a young Bitch.
Under a shade her amorous Boy
Venus did often occupie.
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And did together for a wager.
Between two pooles there is a Kennall
Adorn'd with Beds of Leeks and Fennell.
Thither to th' Bawdy Bank I'll come,
One Bit abroad's worth two at home.
Wee'l tumble on a Bed of parsley
T' our wish the thief is gon to Thessaly:
There taken up with Cinder sooty,
Then thou or I a better Booty.
And there to show his further malice
Against us Both, he huffs and rallys:
He gave my Brothers Bum a glister,
And plaid the Rascal with my Sister.
With Ducks and Geese to find his Fox meat,
And left her in the woods for Hawks meat
Amongst the Beasts where thou wast foster'd
To rob thy Right, and make thee 'a Bastard:
And tho' I brought him more by others,
They're all his own, thy very Brothers.
Then do not stand on Terms of Duty,
Who left thee here to me a Booty.
He did it first, art thou afraid
Then to defile thy Fathers Bed?
If neither frightens me, nor shames,
Mother and Son are but mear names
Of fear and Duty to amaze
The folks in old Queen Besses days.
But honest Jove full often kist her,
And made no Bones of his own Sister.
Nor matters it so near a Kin,
The nearer that the deeper in:
And all will praise us when a Mother
And Son's so kind to one another.
Adorn'd with Beds of Leeks and Fennell.
Thither to th' Bawdy Bank I'll come,
One Bit abroad's worth two at home.
Wee'l tumble on a Bed of parsley
T' our wish the thief is gon to Thessaly:
There taken up with Cinder sooty,
Then thou or I a better Booty.
And there to show his further malice
Against us Both, he huffs and rallys:
He gave my Brothers Bum a glister,
And plaid the Rascal with my Sister.
With Ducks and Geese to find his Fox meat,
And left her in the woods for Hawks meat
Amongst the Beasts where thou wast foster'd
To rob thy Right, and make thee 'a Bastard:
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They're all his own, thy very Brothers.
Then do not stand on Terms of Duty,
Who left thee here to me a Booty.
He did it first, art thou afraid
Then to defile thy Fathers Bed?
If neither frightens me, nor shames,
Mother and Son are but mear names
Of fear and Duty to amaze
The folks in old Queen Besses days.
But honest Jove full often kist her,
And made no Bones of his own Sister.
Nor matters it so near a Kin,
The nearer that the deeper in:
And all will praise us when a Mother
And Son's so kind to one another.
Nor wou'd we keep it in the dark yet,
Wee'l hug, and kiss ith' open Market;
For were we catch't in naked Bed,
My Legs and Arms about thee spread,
It is but Mother and the Son,
And who can guess what we have done?
Only make haste my pretty Duck,
Wee'l hug, and kiss ith' open Market;
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My Legs and Arms about thee spread,
It is but Mother and the Son,
And who can guess what we have done?
For I e'en long to give thee Suck.
Between my Breasts to get thee once
I'le fall upon my Marrow-bones,
And kiss the Borders of thy Jerkin,
To please thee I will shew my Merkin.
Nor can the Fur my Youth affright.
In love it is a decent sight:
For when with Action we grow bolder,
Shame flies the Field like beaten Soldier.
Forgive I pray this fond Confession,
And pitty, pitty my Transgression.
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And my old Grandsire huff and thunder,
Tho' with the richness of the Glass
The Cuckold had a ruby face.
To love their Honours but a Slave
If thou'lt not me their Credit save.
All Crete I'le bring thee for a Dower,
Thou shalt have all things in my power.
For Venus sake then taste my Haggise,
And never mind a scornful Baggidge.
So may Diana raise thy Flame,
And every spot afford thee Game.
So may the little Country Cracks,
Fall all before thee on their Backs,
And all the Milk-maids Piggins burst
In heat of Love to quench thy Thirst.
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Which as thou readst with those dear Eyes,
Think that thou seest the Floods that rise
To wish thee here between my Thighs.
| The wits paraphras'd | |