A Collection of Original Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

In Spain, where sound catholics strictly obey
The commands of the church, a poor carrier lay
On his death-bed: he was of some substance possess'd,
Whether well or ill got, is not ours to contest;
But peace in the grave he most willingly sought,
Which conscience suggested was hard to be bought:
A not'ry was sent for, to draw up his will,
The Imprimis was ready, and nought but to fill.

Imprimis, My house, worth five pounds ev'ry year,
Which, when paid, from all other incumbrance is clear;
With my bed and my blanket, my cat and my hound,
And all goods and chattles of mine that be found,
Except what's hereafter, to wife I bequeath;
And as for my issue, Francisco and Ralph,

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Eliza and Moll, I leave each of them heir
To God's blessing and mine, and my good woman's care.
But as many have been the sad crimes of my youth,
As I strangers deceiv'd, and was fond of untruth;
Lov'd women and wine; was careless of bliss;
Nor masles frequented—and sermons did miss;—
To deliver my soul from the vigilant hand
Of the fiend, I by this my last will do command,
That Sweepstakes, my horse, whom I've lov'd as my life,
And to all living creatures prefer'd but—my wife,
Be sold, and the money arising from sale,
Be giv'n (I beg that in this you won't fail)
To the Franciscan fathers who live three miles hence;
Nor be it neglected on any pretence.

Here ceas'd the good man, in few hours he dy'd,
He was bury'd, the tears of his wife almost dry'd;
She began to reflect what in time might betide;

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Her dependance was small, and her family great,
For land she had none, neither money nor plate;
She plucks up a spirit, and hies her to John,
Who had witness'd the will, while her tears one by one,
Stole down from her eyes, thus she open'd her case:
“You best know my loss; it has pleas'd the good grace
Of th' Almighty, to call my poor husband from life;
You know I was always a dutiful wife;
Yet from me he has left my poor Sweepstakes, the horse;
And substance I've none, be it better, or worse;
My children are four, and I think it is plain
Four children with nothing I cannot maintain
Think not my intention's his will to dispute,
I sooner would death undergo than I'd do't;
I'll dispose of the horse, and if you will assist,
We'll have money sufficient to do what we list—

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Then, perhaps, I may give you a thing worth your while,—
For sometimes a woman can pay a man's toil.”

John, leering, assur'd her he'd act as she'd please:
“Then, says she, the task you may compass with ease:
With the horse take to market the cat in your hand;
And if any the price of the horse should demand,
Say a ducat; but then, in the sale, there's a cat
Of such value, you'd rate her at ninety times that.”

The horse was dress'd up, and John soon brought him forth;
Nor was long e'er a chapman demanded his worth:
“This horse, Sir, says John, is the best in all Spain;
Here's my cat, too, you'll ne'er see her equal again.
The bargain is cheap; for a ducat he's thine;
But with him you'll purchase the cat, or he's mine:
For my cat I must have ninety ducats in gold;
If the terms you approve, be the money strait told.”

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The money was paid, and the chapman content
While home to his mistress John joyfully went;
The friars were sent for, the testament read,
And a ducat bestow'd them, to pray for the dead;
'Twas the price of the horse, they no more could demand;
Then to John, for his service, she gave up her hand,
To have and to hold; and both fully content
With the price of their bargains, were stedfastly bent,
In concord to live, and the children to breed
In a manner much better than father decreed.