The Poetical Entertainer Or, Tales, Satyrs, Dialogues, And Intrigues, &c. Serious and Comical. All digested into such Verse as most agreeable to the several Subjects. To be publish'd as often as occasion shall offer [by Edward Ward] |
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The Norwich Lady:
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1
The Norwich Lady:
OR, The Deceiv'd Fryers. A Tragi-Comedy.
In pious Days when brawny MonksTurn'd Maids to Nuns, and Nuns to Punks,
And when Religion more than Law
Kept all the slavish Croud in awe,
At Norwich then there liv'd a Knight
Who did in Feats of Arms delight,
And in the Wars had born Command
When the Fifth Henry rul'd the Land:
2
Will ever live and shine in Story,
Had chosen such a beauteous Wife
To grace his House and bless his Life,
That none could gaze upon her Charms,
And not desire her in his Arms;
For e'ery Feature in her Face
Invited to another Place,
And tempted all who look'd upon her,
To wish themselves more nigh her Honour.
But Madam being truly Chast,
Or thought so by the World at least,
Was much too Vertuous to be naught,
Or else too cunning to be caught;
For none were ever heard to say,
She step'd aside or run astray.
The Knight being tir'd with Wounds and Scars,
And having quite forsook the Wars,
3
And live as Men should do that marry;
That is, to mind no other Blisses,
But Pious Prayers and Nuptial Kisses,
And to divide his happy Life
Betwixt Religion and his Wife;
And that his Worship might attone
For the past Evils he had done,
A Church he built, that all might see
His pious Zeal and Charity:
Near to the same he rear'd a small
Religious House, which held in all
Twelve Fryers and a ruling Pastor,
Call'd Abbot, to preside as Master.
Among this lazy Crew that fed
Full twice as often as they pray'd,
Were two who never could agree,
But liv'd in open Enmity,
Making themselves the snarling Jest,
And daily Maygame of the rest;
4
B'ing Frier Richard, t'other John,
Both pamper'd Gluttons, fitter far
T'attend a Dray, or load a Car,
Than to exhaust their Days in Cloisters,
O'er Holy Beads and Pater-nosters.
The charming Lady of the Founder,
Whose Beauty merited such Wonder,
Being not only Fair without,
But, like her pious Sex, devout,
Kept close to Vespers, Mass, and Mattins,
To pray, and shew her Silks and Sattins.
Now, you must know, my Lady's way
To Church thro' the same Convent lay,
Where Am'rous John stood always ready
To view and bow unto my Lady,
Who, in return, would give a smile,
Not dreaming he could be so vile,
5
To Lust for's Benefactor's Wife;
And therefore was at all times civil,
Not thinking either Flesh or Devil
Could tempt a Frier to so much Evil.
But John, who fancy'd that he spy'd
Some Hopes when he my Lady ey'd,
And that her Curtesies and Smiles
Were Female Shoing-Horns and Wiles,
Made use of with a kind intent,
To give his Love encouragement,
Thought himself now cocksure of what
He greatly wanted to be at,
In case he could but frame or find
An opportunity to's Mind:
He therefore thought there was no better
A Method, than to write a Letter;
Accordingly he sat him down,
First scratch'd his Ears and then his Crown,
And next in ample Form set forth
His Passion and my Lady's Worth,
Declaring that he soon must dye,
Unless her Honour would comply,
T'extinguish, by her kind embrace,
The Flames sh'ad kindled with her Face.
This Letter, by her trusty Maid,
Was to my Lady's Hand convey'd,
Who reading o'er the lushious Lines,
And finding Frier John's Designs,
Paus'd like a Woman of Discretion,
'Twixt Fear and Female Inclination,
As if she wish'd it no Offence,
To pleasure his Concupiscence;
But dread of Damning and of Shame,
At last prevailing o'er the Dame,
So fortify'd her vertuous Breast,
Against her Lovers bold Request,
That she determin'd to disclose
The Frier's Letter to her Spouse,
Not knowing but the same might be
A Trick to try her Chastity;
Accordingly toth' Knight she flies,
Feigning a very deep surprize,
And laid before him, in a Passion,
The Frier's bold Solicitation,
Backing the same with all the shews
Of detestation she could use,
And such Resentments that might fire
The Knight, and raise his Fury higher.
No sooner had her Spouse perus'd
The Letter but it so confus'd
His Thoughts, that he the Priory curs'd,
Where such Ingratitude was nurs'd,
And vow'd to be reveng'd upon
That lustful Polecat Frier John,
Repenting what he'd built and given
To Rogues, more fit for Hell than Heaven.
Some Hopes when he my Lady ey'd,
And that her Curtesies and Smiles
Were Female Shoing-Horns and Wiles,
Made use of with a kind intent,
To give his Love encouragement,
Thought himself now cocksure of what
He greatly wanted to be at,
In case he could but frame or find
An opportunity to's Mind:
He therefore thought there was no better
A Method, than to write a Letter;
Accordingly he sat him down,
First scratch'd his Ears and then his Crown,
6
His Passion and my Lady's Worth,
Declaring that he soon must dye,
Unless her Honour would comply,
T'extinguish, by her kind embrace,
The Flames sh'ad kindled with her Face.
This Letter, by her trusty Maid,
Was to my Lady's Hand convey'd,
Who reading o'er the lushious Lines,
And finding Frier John's Designs,
Paus'd like a Woman of Discretion,
'Twixt Fear and Female Inclination,
As if she wish'd it no Offence,
To pleasure his Concupiscence;
But dread of Damning and of Shame,
At last prevailing o'er the Dame,
So fortify'd her vertuous Breast,
Against her Lovers bold Request,
That she determin'd to disclose
The Frier's Letter to her Spouse,
7
A Trick to try her Chastity;
Accordingly toth' Knight she flies,
Feigning a very deep surprize,
And laid before him, in a Passion,
The Frier's bold Solicitation,
Backing the same with all the shews
Of detestation she could use,
And such Resentments that might fire
The Knight, and raise his Fury higher.
No sooner had her Spouse perus'd
The Letter but it so confus'd
His Thoughts, that he the Priory curs'd,
Where such Ingratitude was nurs'd,
And vow'd to be reveng'd upon
That lustful Polecat Frier John,
Repenting what he'd built and given
To Rogues, more fit for Hell than Heaven.
The Knight, whose jealous Indignation
Was now past all pacification,
Enjoin'd his Wife to send the Frier
An Answer to his Heart's desire,
Appointing him a certain Night
To Feast and Revel in Delight,
Pretending that her Spouse must be
Then absent of necessity,
And that about the Hour of Eight,
Herself at the Back-door would wait,
To lead him up a private Way
Into the Chamber where she lay,
That he might cool his am'rous Fire,
And gratify his fond Desire.
This joyful News so work'd upon
The Fancy of young Frier John,
That he could think of nothing less
Than her soft Lips and kind Embrace,
And all those Pleasures and Delights
With which young Lovers bless their Nights;
Therefore, that he might be more ready
To entertain so fair a Lady,
He fed till he could eat no longer,
That's brawny Back might be the stronger;
And drank like any thirsty Farmer,
To make his odious Lust the warmer;
New shav'd his Noddle, wash'd his Feet
And other Parts with Herbs most sweet;
Perfum'd his Night-Cap and his Shirt,
Bought fine on purpose for the Sport,
Lest courser should offensive be
Toth' tender Skin of Quality.
So common Punks, tho' foul within,
And poor withal, delight to sin
In costly Linen soft and clean.
Was now past all pacification,
8
An Answer to his Heart's desire,
Appointing him a certain Night
To Feast and Revel in Delight,
Pretending that her Spouse must be
Then absent of necessity,
And that about the Hour of Eight,
Herself at the Back-door would wait,
To lead him up a private Way
Into the Chamber where she lay,
That he might cool his am'rous Fire,
And gratify his fond Desire.
This joyful News so work'd upon
The Fancy of young Frier John,
That he could think of nothing less
Than her soft Lips and kind Embrace,
And all those Pleasures and Delights
With which young Lovers bless their Nights;
Therefore, that he might be more ready
To entertain so fair a Lady,
9
That's brawny Back might be the stronger;
And drank like any thirsty Farmer,
To make his odious Lust the warmer;
New shav'd his Noddle, wash'd his Feet
And other Parts with Herbs most sweet;
Perfum'd his Night-Cap and his Shirt,
Bought fine on purpose for the Sport,
Lest courser should offensive be
Toth' tender Skin of Quality.
So common Punks, tho' foul within,
And poor withal, delight to sin
In costly Linen soft and clean.
When John had thus refresh'd his Back
With Holland, fit for the attack,
And the appointed happy Hour
Was come, he santer'd tow'rds the Door,
Where the fair Lady in the dark
Stood waiting to receive her Spark.
No sooner did the Fri'r approach
So near that she his Hand could touch,
But Madam, with a Heart most hollow,
In a soft whisper bid him follow,
Leading the Monk, who only thought
Of Kisses, Hugs, and God knows what,
Into a close and private Room,
Where Servants seldom us'd to come.
But soon as he was thus decoy'd
By her he hop'd to have enjoy'd,
In rush'd the furious Jealous Knight,
And his Man Roger, with a Light,
Both falling rashly, in their Ire,
Upon the poor defenceless Frier,
Soon brought him headlong to the Floor,
And strangl'd him outright, before
He could have time to call or howl
For Mercy on his sinful Soul.
Thus he that will pursue the sweets
Of Sin, the bitter often meets.
With Holland, fit for the attack,
And the appointed happy Hour
Was come, he santer'd tow'rds the Door,
Where the fair Lady in the dark
Stood waiting to receive her Spark.
10
So near that she his Hand could touch,
But Madam, with a Heart most hollow,
In a soft whisper bid him follow,
Leading the Monk, who only thought
Of Kisses, Hugs, and God knows what,
Into a close and private Room,
Where Servants seldom us'd to come.
But soon as he was thus decoy'd
By her he hop'd to have enjoy'd,
In rush'd the furious Jealous Knight,
And his Man Roger, with a Light,
Both falling rashly, in their Ire,
Upon the poor defenceless Frier,
Soon brought him headlong to the Floor,
And strangl'd him outright, before
He could have time to call or howl
For Mercy on his sinful Soul.
Thus he that will pursue the sweets
Of Sin, the bitter often meets.
11
No sooner had the angry Knight
Appeas'd his Rage by this Exploit,
But he began to think upon
The heinous Evil he had done;
For rash Revenge, we always find,
Brings Terror and Remorse behind;
Strange Apprehensions fill'd his Head,
When once he saw the Frier dead;
And all his jealous Heat and Madness,
Were now turn'd into Fear and Sadness;
The odious Crime of shedding Blood,
The Shame and Danger that pursu'd,
The forfeiture of Goods and Life,
The Scandal brought upon his Wife,
And other frightful Thoughts possest
His Brain and terrify'd his Breast;
For nought but Ruin now could be
Th'effect of a discovery;
Therefore the conscious Knight began
To think of Measures with his Man,
Such that if laid and manag'd right,
Might keep the Murder from the Light.
At length the Knight a Motion made,
That when the Convent were in Bed,
The Frier's strangl'd Corps should be
Remov'd into the Monastry,
Which only by a Garden Wall
Was parted from his Worship's Hall.
The Man b'ing pleas'd, and well affected
To what his Master had projected,
Soon thought of where a Ladder stood
To perfect a Design so good,
Which if attended with Success,
Might save their Necks in this distress;
So that their greatest Hopes and Trust
Were now in what they fear'd the most.
Appeas'd his Rage by this Exploit,
But he began to think upon
The heinous Evil he had done;
For rash Revenge, we always find,
Brings Terror and Remorse behind;
Strange Apprehensions fill'd his Head,
When once he saw the Frier dead;
And all his jealous Heat and Madness,
Were now turn'd into Fear and Sadness;
The odious Crime of shedding Blood,
The Shame and Danger that pursu'd,
The forfeiture of Goods and Life,
The Scandal brought upon his Wife,
And other frightful Thoughts possest
His Brain and terrify'd his Breast;
For nought but Ruin now could be
Th'effect of a discovery;
Therefore the conscious Knight began
To think of Measures with his Man,
12
Might keep the Murder from the Light.
At length the Knight a Motion made,
That when the Convent were in Bed,
The Frier's strangl'd Corps should be
Remov'd into the Monastry,
Which only by a Garden Wall
Was parted from his Worship's Hall.
The Man b'ing pleas'd, and well affected
To what his Master had projected,
Soon thought of where a Ladder stood
To perfect a Design so good,
Which if attended with Success,
Might save their Necks in this distress;
So that their greatest Hopes and Trust
Were now in what they fear'd the most.
By this time all was hush and still,
And dark according to their Will;
No starry Spark above their Heads,
The Friers snoring in their Beds,
His Worship's Servants gone to rest,
And all things happ'ning for the best,
That both concluded this to be
The only opportunity;
So that the Knight laid Frier John
Athwart the Shoulders of his Man,
Who, Porter-like, convey'd his Load
Toth' place 'gainst which the Ladder stood,
And, climbing up the same, let fall
The Monk on t'other side the Wall;
Then striding on the Cope he drew
The Ladder up, with much ado,
And turn'd that gently over too,
So downwards went the self-same way,
To move the Frier from whence he lay,
Lest being found in that Condition,
So near the Wall, might give Suspicion,
That the poor Monk had been destroy'd
Abroad, and drop'd from t'other sides
The Bearer therefore made a shift
To give his Burthen t'other lift,
And very prudently thought fit
To fix him on the Bog-house Seat,
Making the Frier's Arm a prop,
Against a Gice, to keep him up,
There leaving him, that they might see,
I'th' Morn, what the Event would be.
And dark according to their Will;
No starry Spark above their Heads,
The Friers snoring in their Beds,
13
And all things happ'ning for the best,
That both concluded this to be
The only opportunity;
So that the Knight laid Frier John
Athwart the Shoulders of his Man,
Who, Porter-like, convey'd his Load
Toth' place 'gainst which the Ladder stood,
And, climbing up the same, let fall
The Monk on t'other side the Wall;
Then striding on the Cope he drew
The Ladder up, with much ado,
And turn'd that gently over too,
So downwards went the self-same way,
To move the Frier from whence he lay,
Lest being found in that Condition,
So near the Wall, might give Suspicion,
That the poor Monk had been destroy'd
Abroad, and drop'd from t'other sides
14
To give his Burthen t'other lift,
And very prudently thought fit
To fix him on the Bog-house Seat,
Making the Frier's Arm a prop,
Against a Gice, to keep him up,
There leaving him, that they might see,
I'th' Morn, what the Event would be.
The Man, tho' pleas'd he'd plac'd the Monk
Where he alive had often stunk,
Felt, notwithstanding, much disorder,
About so barbarous a Murder,
Which, as he climb'd from out the Yard,
Caus'd him to fancy that he heard
The strangl'd Monk, or something worse,
Mounting behind him at his Arse,
Which made him, 'twixt a Leap and Fall,
At once descend from off the Wall,
Leaving the Ladder bolt upright
Behind him, in a stinking Fright,
Running to's Master to declare
With what Success, and how, and where
He'd plac'd the Fri'r in such rare order,
That none could think he dy'd by murder,
But rather perish'd as he sat
At Stool, performing you know what,
By Chollick Pains, or by too large
A griping Outlet or Discharge,
Or grunting, parted with his Soul,
In labour of a costive Stool.
The Master, who was well content
With trusty Roger's Management,
Long'd, with Impatience, now to see
How fortunate th'event would be:
Nor could he rest for fear he shou'd
Be brought to answer Blood with Blood;
But tattl'd with his Man about
The Murder, dreading 'twould come out,
And that a Rope and Gallow Tree
Their fatal Punishment would be.
Where he alive had often stunk,
Felt, notwithstanding, much disorder,
About so barbarous a Murder,
Which, as he climb'd from out the Yard,
Caus'd him to fancy that he heard
The strangl'd Monk, or something worse,
Mounting behind him at his Arse,
Which made him, 'twixt a Leap and Fall,
At once descend from off the Wall,
Leaving the Ladder bolt upright
Behind him, in a stinking Fright,
15
With what Success, and how, and where
He'd plac'd the Fri'r in such rare order,
That none could think he dy'd by murder,
But rather perish'd as he sat
At Stool, performing you know what,
By Chollick Pains, or by too large
A griping Outlet or Discharge,
Or grunting, parted with his Soul,
In labour of a costive Stool.
The Master, who was well content
With trusty Roger's Management,
Long'd, with Impatience, now to see
How fortunate th'event would be:
Nor could he rest for fear he shou'd
Be brought to answer Blood with Blood;
But tattl'd with his Man about
The Murder, dreading 'twould come out,
And that a Rope and Gallow Tree
Their fatal Punishment would be.
16
During the time the conscious Knight
Was thus reflecting, in a fright,
Upon the black and heinous Crime
Committed by his Man and him,
Fri'r Richard, who had long profess'd
Much hatred unto John deceas'd,
Was in a griping loose surprise,
At Midnight, forc'd from Bed to rise,
To give the stinking Thunder vent,
That in his rumbling Guts was pent,
And running down into the Yard,
As the Clouds broke and Moon appear'd,
He saw some Brother on the Seat,
As the Dutch call it, Plumping neat,
Which made him labour to restrain
The Dregs that forward press'd with Pain,
Till t'other, who had got possession,
Was pleas'd to make a Resignation:
But Richard seeing that he staid
Beyond all reason, beg'd and pray'd
The sitting Monk, that he'd be pleas'd
To rise, and let his Gripes be eas'd,
For that he car'd not to defile
The cleanly Yard with nasty Soil;
But finding that he neither stir'd,
Nor answer'd him one civil Word,
And guessing by the Light o'th' Moon,
The sullen Lout was Frier John,
He then began to rave outright,
Because he thought 'twas done in spight,
And snatching up a Brick or Stone,
No matter which, I'm sure 'twas one,
He lent the Fri'r, who sat at rest,
A Blow so violent on the Breast,
That down he tumbl'd on the Floor
Head foremost, tow'rds the Boghouse-Door,
And gave his Noddle such a stroak
Against the Groundcel made of Oak,
Enough to've kill'd him o'er and o'er,
In case he'd not been slain before:
As soon as Frier Richard found
His Brother Monk upon the Ground,
Conscious o'th' Mischief he had done,
He did to his assistance run,
And strove with all his Strength and Might,
To set him on his Legs upright,
But found him, to his great surprise,
So dead he could not move or rise,
Concluding that the Blow he'd given,
Had sent his Brother's Soul to Heaven;
Thus scar'd, he took a turn or two
I'th' Yard, consid'ring what to do,
And by what Measures he might hope
To save his Gullet from the Rope:
At length, the pond'ring Frier spy'd
The Ladder on the Priory side,
Which stood in a convenient place,
Against the Wall in readiness,
And having heard it whisper'd round
The Broth'rhood, that John had found
Much Grace and Favour in the sight
Of the fair Lady of the Knight;
From whence he thought his safest way
Would be to o'er the Wall convey
The Corps, and seat him at the Door
Where he had often loll'd before,
That Folks might think he lost his Life
In waiting for his Worship's Wife,
Because 't'ad whisper'd been already,
That Frier John had kiss'd my Lady.
No sooner had he thought of this
But he resolv'd on't, hit or miss,
And lugging him along the Ground,
Toth' place where he the Ladder found,
He did the twice kill'd Brother haul
Aloft, and laid him cross the Wall,
Thence drop'd him down, without regard
What part came first into the Yard,
Then striding, turn'd the Ladder o'er,
As the Knight's Man had done before,
That with more ease he might descend
T'accomplish what he did intend;
Accordingly he lug'd the Frier
Unto the place of his desire,
Leaving him seated on a Bench,
Like Lover waiting for his Wench,
Leaning his Head against a Stanchion
Belonging to his Worship's Mansion,
Returning to the Vault with speed,
To do th'remainder of his Need,
Poor Richard having spilt some Dregs
Before upon his Thighs and Legs,
And in his fright manur'd his Britches,
With no small Sum of Gard'ners Riches.
Was thus reflecting, in a fright,
Upon the black and heinous Crime
Committed by his Man and him,
Fri'r Richard, who had long profess'd
Much hatred unto John deceas'd,
Was in a griping loose surprise,
At Midnight, forc'd from Bed to rise,
To give the stinking Thunder vent,
That in his rumbling Guts was pent,
And running down into the Yard,
As the Clouds broke and Moon appear'd,
He saw some Brother on the Seat,
As the Dutch call it, Plumping neat,
Which made him labour to restrain
The Dregs that forward press'd with Pain,
Till t'other, who had got possession,
Was pleas'd to make a Resignation:
But Richard seeing that he staid
Beyond all reason, beg'd and pray'd
17
To rise, and let his Gripes be eas'd,
For that he car'd not to defile
The cleanly Yard with nasty Soil;
But finding that he neither stir'd,
Nor answer'd him one civil Word,
And guessing by the Light o'th' Moon,
The sullen Lout was Frier John,
He then began to rave outright,
Because he thought 'twas done in spight,
And snatching up a Brick or Stone,
No matter which, I'm sure 'twas one,
He lent the Fri'r, who sat at rest,
A Blow so violent on the Breast,
That down he tumbl'd on the Floor
Head foremost, tow'rds the Boghouse-Door,
And gave his Noddle such a stroak
Against the Groundcel made of Oak,
Enough to've kill'd him o'er and o'er,
In case he'd not been slain before:
18
His Brother Monk upon the Ground,
Conscious o'th' Mischief he had done,
He did to his assistance run,
And strove with all his Strength and Might,
To set him on his Legs upright,
But found him, to his great surprise,
So dead he could not move or rise,
Concluding that the Blow he'd given,
Had sent his Brother's Soul to Heaven;
Thus scar'd, he took a turn or two
I'th' Yard, consid'ring what to do,
And by what Measures he might hope
To save his Gullet from the Rope:
At length, the pond'ring Frier spy'd
The Ladder on the Priory side,
Which stood in a convenient place,
Against the Wall in readiness,
And having heard it whisper'd round
The Broth'rhood, that John had found
19
Of the fair Lady of the Knight;
From whence he thought his safest way
Would be to o'er the Wall convey
The Corps, and seat him at the Door
Where he had often loll'd before,
That Folks might think he lost his Life
In waiting for his Worship's Wife,
Because 't'ad whisper'd been already,
That Frier John had kiss'd my Lady.
No sooner had he thought of this
But he resolv'd on't, hit or miss,
And lugging him along the Ground,
Toth' place where he the Ladder found,
He did the twice kill'd Brother haul
Aloft, and laid him cross the Wall,
Thence drop'd him down, without regard
What part came first into the Yard,
Then striding, turn'd the Ladder o'er,
As the Knight's Man had done before,
20
T'accomplish what he did intend;
Accordingly he lug'd the Frier
Unto the place of his desire,
Leaving him seated on a Bench,
Like Lover waiting for his Wench,
Leaning his Head against a Stanchion
Belonging to his Worship's Mansion,
Returning to the Vault with speed,
To do th'remainder of his Need,
Poor Richard having spilt some Dregs
Before upon his Thighs and Legs,
And in his fright manur'd his Britches,
With no small Sum of Gard'ners Riches.
As now he sat o'er Boghouse-Hole,
With aching Heart and troubl'd Soul,
Reflecting soberly upon
The heinous Evil he had done,
Which seldom undiscover'd past
Away, but came to Light at last,
He could not think the Means he'd taken,
Sufficient were to save his Bacon,
'Cause the whole Priory knew that he
And Frier John could ne'er agree,
Would therefore, without searching further,
Conclude him guilty of the Murther:
So that he thought the safest way
Would be to fly by break of Day;
But being corpulent and fatter
Than usual, wisely thought it better
To trust to four Legs, than alone
Depend intirely on his own,
And knowing that there was a Mare
Beneath the Priory Baker's Care,
A sturdy Beast both sound and strong,
Which to the Convent did belong,
Whose bus'ness early in the Morn
Was to fetch Grist or carry Corn
From Mill, or to the Mill, which stood
Some distance from the Brotherhood.
This Mare the Frier did depend
Upon to stand his trusty Friend,
Resolving, by the break of Day,
To borrow'r and to ride away;
So up he 'rose from off his Seat,
Went in to make himself more sweet,
And to prepare, before 'twas Light,
All matters needful for his flight.
With aching Heart and troubl'd Soul,
Reflecting soberly upon
The heinous Evil he had done,
Which seldom undiscover'd past
Away, but came to Light at last,
21
Sufficient were to save his Bacon,
'Cause the whole Priory knew that he
And Frier John could ne'er agree,
Would therefore, without searching further,
Conclude him guilty of the Murther:
So that he thought the safest way
Would be to fly by break of Day;
But being corpulent and fatter
Than usual, wisely thought it better
To trust to four Legs, than alone
Depend intirely on his own,
And knowing that there was a Mare
Beneath the Priory Baker's Care,
A sturdy Beast both sound and strong,
Which to the Convent did belong,
Whose bus'ness early in the Morn
Was to fetch Grist or carry Corn
From Mill, or to the Mill, which stood
Some distance from the Brotherhood.
22
Upon to stand his trusty Friend,
Resolving, by the break of Day,
To borrow'r and to ride away;
So up he 'rose from off his Seat,
Went in to make himself more sweet,
And to prepare, before 'twas Light,
All matters needful for his flight.
The Knight who all this time had lain
Reflecting on the Monk he'd slain,
Was very restless and intent
To know how the Adventure went,
And whether any Monk as yet
Had found poor John on Boghouse-Seat,
He therefore bid his Servant go
And listen up and down below,
Beneath the Priory Wall, to find
If the Monk's Death had taken Wind.
Reflecting on the Monk he'd slain,
Was very restless and intent
To know how the Adventure went,
And whether any Monk as yet
Had found poor John on Boghouse-Seat,
He therefore bid his Servant go
And listen up and down below,
Beneath the Priory Wall, to find
If the Monk's Death had taken Wind.
Accordingly the Man, in fear,
Crept down most softly Stair by Stair,
And op'ning of the Door unheard,
To gently steal into the Yard,
At once he fix'd his Eyes upon
The ghastly Corps of Frier John,
Leaning his Head against a Post,
Looking as frightful as a Ghost,
His falling Jaws and glaring Eyes,
Striking the Man with such surprise,
That back he stagger'd, as if drunk,
So sadly scar'd to see the Monk,
That he'd no Power left to shut
The Door and bar the Goblin out,
But groap'd and fumbl'd back his way
Toth' Chamber where his Master lay,
Declaring, in a frightful Tone,
That of a certain Frier John
Was sitting in the Porch alone,
And grin'd and star'd as if he meant
To see them brought to Punishment.
Crept down most softly Stair by Stair,
23
To gently steal into the Yard,
At once he fix'd his Eyes upon
The ghastly Corps of Frier John,
Leaning his Head against a Post,
Looking as frightful as a Ghost,
His falling Jaws and glaring Eyes,
Striking the Man with such surprise,
That back he stagger'd, as if drunk,
So sadly scar'd to see the Monk,
That he'd no Power left to shut
The Door and bar the Goblin out,
But groap'd and fumbl'd back his way
Toth' Chamber where his Master lay,
Declaring, in a frightful Tone,
That of a certain Frier John
Was sitting in the Porch alone,
And grin'd and star'd as if he meant
To see them brought to Punishment.
24
Nouns, quoth the Master, 'tis your fear,
If dead, how should the Rogue come there?
'Tis nothing but your guilty Breast
That makes you think so; 'tis a Jest.
Come, thee and I'll go down together,
We then shall soon discover, whether
He's really in the Porch below,
Or that thou only fancy'st so.
If dead, how should the Rogue come there?
'Tis nothing but your guilty Breast
That makes you think so; 'tis a Jest.
Come, thee and I'll go down together,
We then shall soon discover, whether
He's really in the Porch below,
Or that thou only fancy'st so.
With that the Valiant Knight, attended
By Roger, to the Door descended,
Where both beheld the Frier staring,
Altho' as dead as any Herring.
By Roger, to the Door descended,
Where both beheld the Frier staring,
Altho' as dead as any Herring.
Now, quoth the Knight, I find thy Mouth
Has told my Ears no more than truth,
I see the Villain looks, tho' dead,
As if he'd Mischief in his Head:
His ghastly Grins, I own, are frightful;
But since the Rogue's so very spightful,
I'll find a way for this offence,
To send him far enough from hence.
I've an old Stallion in my Stable,
Batter'd i'th' Wars and quite unable
For Service, and a rusty Sute
Of Armour, down from Head to Foot,
All these will I bestow upon
This restless Scoundrel Frier John,
And bind him upright in the Saddle,
That he shall neither fall nor waddle,
With an old Target and a Lance,
And the broad Sword I us'd in France,
Then turn him out by break of Day,
And let the Stallion chuse his way;
He'll run like Forest Colt, I'm sure,
As soon as out of Stable-Door,
And the Monks dangling Legs, the while,
Must spur him on, Mile after Mile.
Thus shall they take their Chance together,
And wander on we know not whither.
Has told my Ears no more than truth,
I see the Villain looks, tho' dead,
As if he'd Mischief in his Head:
His ghastly Grins, I own, are frightful;
But since the Rogue's so very spightful,
I'll find a way for this offence,
To send him far enough from hence.
25
Batter'd i'th' Wars and quite unable
For Service, and a rusty Sute
Of Armour, down from Head to Foot,
All these will I bestow upon
This restless Scoundrel Frier John,
And bind him upright in the Saddle,
That he shall neither fall nor waddle,
With an old Target and a Lance,
And the broad Sword I us'd in France,
Then turn him out by break of Day,
And let the Stallion chuse his way;
He'll run like Forest Colt, I'm sure,
As soon as out of Stable-Door,
And the Monks dangling Legs, the while,
Must spur him on, Mile after Mile.
Thus shall they take their Chance together,
And wander on we know not whither.
No sooner had the Knight propos'd
This Stratagem, but Roger clos'd,
And gladly, to conceal the Murder,
Put all the Furniture in order;
So that the Monk was quickly drest,
And well equip'd to mount his Beast,
Who next was saddl'd like a Horse
Appointed for the bloody Wars,
And fed with Oats to make him stronger,
That he might hold his speed the longer.
By this time it was peep of Day,
And time the Monk should make his way,
Accordingly they ty'd him fast
Into the Saddle by his Waste,
And bound him with such Art, that he
Sat almost upright, Cap-a-Pe;
Then couching his tremendous Lance,
They whip'd the Horse to make him Prance,
And turn'd him loose without the Gate,
Who flounc'd and gallop'd at no rate,
And loudly farting as he ran,
Took leave of Master and of Man.
This Stratagem, but Roger clos'd,
26
Put all the Furniture in order;
So that the Monk was quickly drest,
And well equip'd to mount his Beast,
Who next was saddl'd like a Horse
Appointed for the bloody Wars,
And fed with Oats to make him stronger,
That he might hold his speed the longer.
By this time it was peep of Day,
And time the Monk should make his way,
Accordingly they ty'd him fast
Into the Saddle by his Waste,
And bound him with such Art, that he
Sat almost upright, Cap-a-Pe;
Then couching his tremendous Lance,
They whip'd the Horse to make him Prance,
And turn'd him loose without the Gate,
Who flounc'd and gallop'd at no rate,
And loudly farting as he ran,
Took leave of Master and of Man.
27
Monk Richard, who had taken care,
E're this time to secure the Mare,
Was fled a little space, before
They'd turn'd his Brother out of Door;
So that the Stallion having scent
O'th' Mare, with all his fury went,
Endeav'ring, by a swift pursuit,
To overtake the Lady Brute,
Threat'ning to give her, by his Neigh,
A pleasing Horse-buss by the way;
Tho' old and stiff, his brutal Lust
Made him in Clouds throw up the Dust,
And rend and run so like a Tyger,
As if the Dev'l had been his Rider,
Till in a little time the Horse
Was got so near the Frier's Arse,
That, turning, he was scar'd to see
A Man in Armour Cap-a-Pe,
With a Lance couch'd, come thund'ring a'ter,
As if design'd for Blood and Slaughter,
Therefore, with all the Heels he had,
He kick'd and spur'd like any mad,
Fancy'ng that in this armed order,
Some Foe pursu'd him for the Murder;
And now was almost past the hope
Of 'scaping present Death or Rope:
However, still he whip'd and tew'd
Like any Highway-man pursu'd,
Till scowring thro' a Town, at length,
When's Mare had almost spent her strength,
By chance he rid into a Lane,
Where he was forc'd to turn again,
And there the fiery Steed began
To rise and mount both Mare and Man,
And with a merc'less pawing Hoof,
Soon knock'd the living Frier off,
Who, as he fell, fix'd Eyes upon
The frightful Face of Frier John;
For lo the Beaver of the Helmet
Was cock'd, and did not overwhelm it.
The rustick Townsmen, who had seen 'em
Ride thro' as if Old-Nick was in 'em,
Flock'd tow'rds 'em now in frighted Throngs,
Some arm'd with Clubs, and some with Prongs,
Finding the Monk dismounted, lying
On a green Bank, for Mercy crying,
Whilst the dead Fri'r, from Head to Heel,
Lock'd up in Coffin made of Steel,
And his old Stallion, were attacking
The Mare he wanted to be backing.
The Rabble thought it now but just,
To side with those that suffer'd most;
Therefore resolv'd, with all their Force,
T'assault the armed Man and Horse,
Accordingly, with Staves and Clubs,
They lent the Stallion many Drubs,
Who, tho' in Wars he'd often run
The risque of Foreign Sword and Gun,
Had ne'er experienc'd, in his Life,
The sad effects of civil Strife;
So that, unable to oppose
Or guard himself against their Blows,
At length his Head receiv'd a thump
That fairly set him on his Rump,
Then steping up they seiz'd the Rein,
And hung in swarms about his Mane,
Subduing thus, by dint of Force,
The Lifeless Rider and his Horse;
But when the Combatant was found
Dead as a Door-nail, on the Ground,
The poor dishearten'd Clowns began
To think their Blows had been his Bane,
And that they now should, e'ery one,
Be punish'd for the Ill they'd done,
Till Frier Richard, sore opprest
With Fear and Guilt, the Fact confess'd,
Believing that this strange pursuit,
And all things appertaining to't,
Were done byth' providential Order
Of Heaven to detect the Murder,
That Penitence and shameful dying
Might expiate a Sin so crying,
And his own worthless Life attone
For his Revenge on Frier John;
So that upon the free Confession
Of his unnatural Transgression,
The murder'd Monk was strip'd and bury'd,
And Frier Dick to Prison carry'd.
The strange discov'ry, with each Fool,
Now passing for a Miracle,
Till the poor Frier at the 'Sizes,
Was try'd by Twelve judicious Nisies,
And by the same condemn'd to be
A mournful sight at Gallow-Tree;
And then the Knight, who was unwilling
T'incur the Curse of double killing,
Rode to His Majesty post hast,
And told the truth of what had past,
Obtaining a Reprieve that stop'd
The guiltless Monk from being top'd,
And in a short convenient time,
A thorough Pardon for his Crime.
In which old Story we may see
What Shifts the Wicked make to free
Their guilty selves from Jeopardy.
E're this time to secure the Mare,
Was fled a little space, before
They'd turn'd his Brother out of Door;
So that the Stallion having scent
O'th' Mare, with all his fury went,
Endeav'ring, by a swift pursuit,
To overtake the Lady Brute,
Threat'ning to give her, by his Neigh,
A pleasing Horse-buss by the way;
Tho' old and stiff, his brutal Lust
Made him in Clouds throw up the Dust,
And rend and run so like a Tyger,
As if the Dev'l had been his Rider,
Till in a little time the Horse
Was got so near the Frier's Arse,
That, turning, he was scar'd to see
A Man in Armour Cap-a-Pe,
With a Lance couch'd, come thund'ring a'ter,
As if design'd for Blood and Slaughter,
28
He kick'd and spur'd like any mad,
Fancy'ng that in this armed order,
Some Foe pursu'd him for the Murder;
And now was almost past the hope
Of 'scaping present Death or Rope:
However, still he whip'd and tew'd
Like any Highway-man pursu'd,
Till scowring thro' a Town, at length,
When's Mare had almost spent her strength,
By chance he rid into a Lane,
Where he was forc'd to turn again,
And there the fiery Steed began
To rise and mount both Mare and Man,
And with a merc'less pawing Hoof,
Soon knock'd the living Frier off,
Who, as he fell, fix'd Eyes upon
The frightful Face of Frier John;
For lo the Beaver of the Helmet
Was cock'd, and did not overwhelm it.
29
Ride thro' as if Old-Nick was in 'em,
Flock'd tow'rds 'em now in frighted Throngs,
Some arm'd with Clubs, and some with Prongs,
Finding the Monk dismounted, lying
On a green Bank, for Mercy crying,
Whilst the dead Fri'r, from Head to Heel,
Lock'd up in Coffin made of Steel,
And his old Stallion, were attacking
The Mare he wanted to be backing.
The Rabble thought it now but just,
To side with those that suffer'd most;
Therefore resolv'd, with all their Force,
T'assault the armed Man and Horse,
Accordingly, with Staves and Clubs,
They lent the Stallion many Drubs,
Who, tho' in Wars he'd often run
The risque of Foreign Sword and Gun,
Had ne'er experienc'd, in his Life,
The sad effects of civil Strife;
30
Or guard himself against their Blows,
At length his Head receiv'd a thump
That fairly set him on his Rump,
Then steping up they seiz'd the Rein,
And hung in swarms about his Mane,
Subduing thus, by dint of Force,
The Lifeless Rider and his Horse;
But when the Combatant was found
Dead as a Door-nail, on the Ground,
The poor dishearten'd Clowns began
To think their Blows had been his Bane,
And that they now should, e'ery one,
Be punish'd for the Ill they'd done,
Till Frier Richard, sore opprest
With Fear and Guilt, the Fact confess'd,
Believing that this strange pursuit,
And all things appertaining to't,
Were done byth' providential Order
Of Heaven to detect the Murder,
31
Might expiate a Sin so crying,
And his own worthless Life attone
For his Revenge on Frier John;
So that upon the free Confession
Of his unnatural Transgression,
The murder'd Monk was strip'd and bury'd,
And Frier Dick to Prison carry'd.
The strange discov'ry, with each Fool,
Now passing for a Miracle,
Till the poor Frier at the 'Sizes,
Was try'd by Twelve judicious Nisies,
And by the same condemn'd to be
A mournful sight at Gallow-Tree;
And then the Knight, who was unwilling
T'incur the Curse of double killing,
Rode to His Majesty post hast,
And told the truth of what had past,
Obtaining a Reprieve that stop'd
The guiltless Monk from being top'd,
32
A thorough Pardon for his Crime.
In which old Story we may see
What Shifts the Wicked make to free
Their guilty selves from Jeopardy.
Moral.
The guiltless, by Mistake, sometimesIncur the blame of others Crimes,
And guilty Persons oft prevent
Their open Shame and Punishment.
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