The Book of Ballads Edited by Bon Gaultier [i.e. W. E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin]. A New Edition, with Several New Ballads. Illustrated by Alfred Crowquill, Richard Doyle and John Leech |
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My Wife's Cousin.
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 | The Book of Ballads |  |
109
My Wife's Cousin.
Decked with shoes of blackest polish,
And with shirt as white as snow,
After matutinal breakfast
To my daily desk I go;
First a fond salute bestowing
On my Mary's ruby lips,
Which, perchance, may be rewarded
With a pair of playful nips.
And with shirt as white as snow,
After matutinal breakfast
To my daily desk I go;
First a fond salute bestowing
On my Mary's ruby lips,
Which, perchance, may be rewarded
With a pair of playful nips.
All day long across the ledger
Still my patient pen I drive,
Thinking what a feast awaits me
In my happy home at five;
In my small, one-storied Eden,
Where my wife awaits my coming,
And our solitary handmaid
Mutton chops with care is crumbing.
Still my patient pen I drive,
Thinking what a feast awaits me
In my happy home at five;
In my small, one-storied Eden,
Where my wife awaits my coming,
And our solitary handmaid
Mutton chops with care is crumbing.
110
When the clock proclaims my freedom,
Then my hat I seize and vanish;
Every trouble from my bosom,
Every anxious care I banish.
Swiftly brushing o'er the pavement,
At a furious pace I go,
Till I reach my darling dwelling
In the wilds of Pimlico.
Then my hat I seize and vanish;
Every trouble from my bosom,
Every anxious care I banish.
Swiftly brushing o'er the pavement,
At a furious pace I go,
Till I reach my darling dwelling
In the wilds of Pimlico.
“Mary, wife, where art thou, dearest?”
Thus I cry, while yet afar;
Ah! what scent invades my nostrils?—
'Tis the smoke of a cigar!
Instantly into the parlour
Like a maniac I haste,
And I find a young Life-Guardsman,
With his arm round Mary's waist.
Thus I cry, while yet afar;
Ah! what scent invades my nostrils?—
'Tis the smoke of a cigar!
Instantly into the parlour
Like a maniac I haste,
And I find a young Life-Guardsman,
With his arm round Mary's waist.
And his other hand is playing
Most familiarly with hers;
And I think my Brussels carpet
Somewhat damaged by his spurs.
“Fire and furies! what the blazes?”
Thus in frenzied wrath I call;
When my spouse her arms upraises,
With a most astounding squall.
Most familiarly with hers;
And I think my Brussels carpet
Somewhat damaged by his spurs.
“Fire and furies! what the blazes?”
Thus in frenzied wrath I call;
When my spouse her arms upraises,
With a most astounding squall.
111
“Was there ever such a monster:
Ever such a wretched wife?
Ah! how long must I endure it:
How protract this hateful life?
All day long quite unprotected,
Does he leave his wife at home;
And she cannot see her cousins,
Even when they kindly come!”
Ever such a wretched wife?
Ah! how long must I endure it:
How protract this hateful life?
All day long quite unprotected,
Does he leave his wife at home;
And she cannot see her cousins,
Even when they kindly come!”
Then the young Life-Guardsman, rising,
Scarce vouchsafes a single word,
But with look of deadly menace,
Claps his hand upon his sword;
And in fear I faintly falter—
“This your cousin, then he's mine!
Very glad, indeed, to see you,—
Won't you stop with us, and dine?”
Scarce vouchsafes a single word,
But with look of deadly menace,
Claps his hand upon his sword;
And in fear I faintly falter—
“This your cousin, then he's mine!
Very glad, indeed, to see you,—
Won't you stop with us, and dine?”
Won't a ferret suck a rabbit?—
As a thing of course he stops;
And, with most voracious swallow
Walks into my mutton chops.
In the twinkling of a bed-post,
Is each savoury platter clear,
And he shows uncommon science
In his estimate of beer.
As a thing of course he stops;
And, with most voracious swallow
Walks into my mutton chops.
In the twinkling of a bed-post,
Is each savoury platter clear,
And he shows uncommon science
In his estimate of beer.
112
Half-and-half goes down before him,
Gurgling from the pewter pot;
And he moves a counter motion
For a glass of something hot.
Neither chops nor beer I grudge him,
Nor a moderate share of goes;
But I know not why he's always
Treading upon Mary's toes.
Gurgling from the pewter pot;
And he moves a counter motion
For a glass of something hot.
Neither chops nor beer I grudge him,
Nor a moderate share of goes;
But I know not why he's always
Treading upon Mary's toes.
Evermore, when, home returning,
From the counting-house I come,
Do I find the young Life-Guardsman
Smoking pipes and drinking rum.
Evermore he stays to dinner,
Evermore devours my meal;
For I have a wholesome horror
Both of powder and of steel.
From the counting-house I come,
Do I find the young Life-Guardsman
Smoking pipes and drinking rum.
Evermore he stays to dinner,
Evermore devours my meal;
For I have a wholesome horror
Both of powder and of steel.
Yet I know he's Mary's cousin,
For my only son and heir
Much resembles that young Guardsman,
With the self-same curly hair;
But I wish he would not always
Spoil my carpet with his spurs;
And I'd rather see his fingers
In the fire, than touching hers.
For my only son and heir
Much resembles that young Guardsman,
With the self-same curly hair;
But I wish he would not always
Spoil my carpet with his spurs;
And I'd rather see his fingers
In the fire, than touching hers.
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