University of Virginia Library

He was a trooper to his trade,
But fiend a groat by it he made;
And tho' most desperately stout,
He seldom miss'd to get a clout,
In every fray came off with loss,
And still return'd by weeping-cross.
When he had gallop'd thro' the town
And country too, this mad dragoon,
Well graithed in his martial gear,
And mounted on his stolen mare,
Like errant knight away he wanders,
To push his fortune into Flanders.
To tell you how the knight was maul'd,
And how the mare was all spur-gall'd,
And jaded, till she turn'd so thin,
The bones appeared thro' her skin,
Would be a melancholly story.
The knight still rode to find the glory
Which he had lost the year before,
Till the poor mare could ride no more:
But after many battles fought,
Where, save some blows, the knight gain'd nought,
No, not so much in many a year,
As would have once well corn'd the mare,
Or greas'd his boots, or soal'd his hose,
Or bought a plaister to his nose;
There's one thing I must not neglect
To tell you, that he broke his neck.

And then it was a certain lady,
Mounted the mare, which to her daddy
Belong'd, and after him none other
Had right to ride her but her brother.

Then after her, a hum-drum clown,
Adorn'd with Capricornus' crown,
And with a Scaramouch's phiz,
Pretends, forsooth, the mare was his,
(Because the rogue, who caught her straying,
Bequeath'd the mare, when he was dying,
Knowing he had no heir to bruik her,
To Mynheer Corniger, who took her
As his just right; for why, said he,
Accepi hanc, non rapui;
'Tis true, but each good man believes,
Resets to be as bad as thieves);
And tumbling gets into the saddle,
But then, his head-piece being addle,
With laughter you would split your sides,
To see how aukwardly he rides;
If she but trot, then he must gabble,
Make a grimace, and cry, Diuble.
Up comes a servant, takes the reins,
And thus accosts Don Rattlebrains,
Allow me, Sir, the mare to lead,
Smoke you your pipe, ne'er fash your head
About the reins, leave that to me,
I'll manage them. Says he, Ouy.
There is a proverb. I have heard it,
“A fidging mare should be well girded.”
Mynheer, then know you how to guide her:
Je ne scai pas, replies the rider.
I'll whistle in her ear a song,
Will make her calm. Quoth Quixotte, Bon;
We'll toil her hard, and keep her lean.
Quoth he, I know, Sir, what you mean;
Tho' she be skittish this will tame her.
Ouy, quoth he, for I pray, damn her.

His Wife had brought him forth a son,
Just such a thing as Phaeton,
A strange fantastick Gilligapous,
Begot by Seignior Priapus;
A knight well known by his large balop,
Much long'd this spark the mare to gallop:
But old Don Quixotte took great care,
Because he was apparent heir,
That he should never once bestride her,
Or learn the method how to ride her.
When he went to his country farm,
To ease himself of any harm,
That might befal him by much riding,
The mare he trusted to the guiding
Of grooms, who did both spur and switch her;
Young Addle-head durst never touch her.

There he, like a coarse country boor,
Would drink his bottle, take his whore:
For you must know some little strife,
Fell out betwixt him and his wife,
Which made him turn his back upon her,
By which her son had no great honour.
He'd plant potatoes, and sow turnip,
He'd geld his swine, or shear his sheep;
Sometimes at blindman's buff he'd play,
And he excell'd in making hay;
He'd sell his barley, oats and pease,
His hens and capons, butter, cheese,
And all his other country gear,
Then drink a mug of Brunswick beer,
And smoke his pipe, and crack full crouse,
And from his bosom pull a louse;
For those who labour'd in his farm,
'Gainst buggs and lice could find no charm,
The carle swell'd, and look'd as big
As bull-beef, or triumphant Whig;
Or as a Scots kirk's Moderator,
Or if you please to call't Dictator,
Because he'd got a beast to ride on,
Made up of bones, with little hide on,
A skeleton, a Rosinante,
Strigosa valde, non ut ante;
When fat she flang like old Jeshurim,
(Were she so now she'd ne'er endure him),
A straying mare; for, be it known
To all men, she was not his own;
And therefore he took little care,
If he was well, how she did fare.