The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] ... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes |
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 | The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] |  |
71
CANTO II.
Fair Ellen liv'd with Boniface
Nor scorn'd her humble sphere;
And with unsullied fame she drew
Her customers their beer.
Nor scorn'd her humble sphere;
And with unsullied fame she drew
Her customers their beer.
How neat was Ellen in her dress!
As neat as a new pin!
By this she brought full many a pound
To Boniface's inn.
As neat as a new pin!
By this she brought full many a pound
To Boniface's inn.
Thus Goldfinches, in fields well plac'd
The distant birds engage,
And by their dainty forms and voice,,
Invite them to their cage.
The distant birds engage,
And by their dainty forms and voice,,
Invite them to their cage.
And thus the pastry-cooks should do,
To sell their tarts and pies;
Put in their shop some pretty lass,
To hook in passing eyes.
To sell their tarts and pies;
Put in their shop some pretty lass,
To hook in passing eyes.
For many a man, whose appetite
Desires nor pie nor tart,
May like to squeeze a charming girl,
And ogle for her heart.
Desires nor pie nor tart,
May like to squeeze a charming girl,
And ogle for her heart.
Nay, milliners should do the same,
For custom if they hope;
And many a trade beside should keep
A nice tit in the shop.
For custom if they hope;
And many a trade beside should keep
A nice tit in the shop.
72
And let me own, in times of yore,
When Love was seldom quiet,
But quicken'd night and day my blood,
And bred a constant riot;
When Love was seldom quiet,
But quicken'd night and day my blood,
And bred a constant riot;
I bought my garters and my gloves,
Wherever Beauty shone;
When Ugliness was in a shop,
I let that shop alone.
Wherever Beauty shone;
When Ugliness was in a shop,
I let that shop alone.
For beauty may be well compar'd,
I think, unto a hook;
Which, baited with a lady-bird,
Draws fishes from the brook.
I think, unto a hook;
Which, baited with a lady-bird,
Draws fishes from the brook.
Ellen was chaste as new-fall'n snow,
And modest in her air;
Unlike some lasses, common known
As is a barber's chair.
And modest in her air;
Unlike some lasses, common known
As is a barber's chair.
Of goodly parents was she born,
But in disguise did row,
Because a youth to her was false—
She left her vale for love.
But in disguise did row,
Because a youth to her was false—
She left her vale for love.
Six years she pass'd in servitude,
At last forgot the sigh;
Her lover's image forc'd no more
The pearl-drops from her eye.
At last forgot the sigh;
Her lover's image forc'd no more
The pearl-drops from her eye.
Yet many a month she ceas'd to smile,
And droop'd the languid head;
And many a lonely walk she took,
The secret tear to shed.
And droop'd the languid head;
And many a lonely walk she took,
The secret tear to shed.
‘Ah! happy birds,’ she oft would sigh
Amid the tuneful grove—
‘You bear no guile within your hearts,
You break no vows of love.
Amid the tuneful grove—
‘You bear no guile within your hearts,
You break no vows of love.
‘Alas! 'tis man alone deceives:
He wins the witless heart;
Then meanly treads it in the dust,
And triumphs in his art.’
He wins the witless heart;
Then meanly treads it in the dust,
And triumphs in his art.’
73
Thus in her solitary walk
Would Ellen say and sigh;
And then sweet ditties she would sing,
Of maids for love that die.
Would Ellen say and sigh;
And then sweet ditties she would sing,
Of maids for love that die.
For Sorrow listens with fond ear
To Music's plaintive flow;
Devours the sweetly-dying strain,
And feeds on tales of woe.
To Music's plaintive flow;
Devours the sweetly-dying strain,
And feeds on tales of woe.
The parish 'squire, though wedded he
Unto a lady fair,
Hath often at the Lion stopp'd,
On Ellen's charms to stare.
Unto a lady fair,
Hath often at the Lion stopp'd,
On Ellen's charms to stare.
For married eyes, if not well watch'd,
Are very apt to stray;
For which some ladies give their lords
A lesson night and day.
Are very apt to stray;
For which some ladies give their lords
A lesson night and day.
And very properly I wot;
For eyes of married men
Should only on one object look,
Whereas they stare on ten.
For eyes of married men
Should only on one object look,
Whereas they stare on ten.
A married man should winkers wear,
Like coach-horses and cart;
To rule the eyes, those squinting pimps
That oft seduce the heart.
Like coach-horses and cart;
To rule the eyes, those squinting pimps
That oft seduce the heart.
For so deprav'd our sex, I've known
A man deep read in books,
Who had a jewel of a wife,
Yet kiss'd his greasy cooks.
A man deep read in books,
Who had a jewel of a wife,
Yet kiss'd his greasy cooks.
And what did make it ten times worse,
T'increase his lady's woes;
He kept the bastards of those cooks
All underneath her nose;
T'increase his lady's woes;
He kept the bastards of those cooks
All underneath her nose;
Who, if she dar'd to speak or weep,
He instantly would kick her;
And oft (to use a Devonshire phrase)
The gentleman would lick her.
He instantly would kick her;
And oft (to use a Devonshire phrase)
The gentleman would lick her.
74
Ah! Matrimony, thou art like
To Jeremiah's figs;
The good were very good, the bad
Too sour to give the pigs.
To Jeremiah's figs;
The good were very good, the bad
Too sour to give the pigs.
Now to fair Ellen to return—
The parson of the parish,
Although his mouth was most devout,
His eyes were oft vagarish.
The parson of the parish,
Although his mouth was most devout,
His eyes were oft vagarish.
For oft on Boniface he call'd,
The news to ask or tell;
Hoping his ale was fresh and good,
And that his hogs were well.
The news to ask or tell;
Hoping his ale was fresh and good,
And that his hogs were well.
And was fair Ellen in the way,
He catechis'd the maid;
Hoping she always went to church,
And like a Christian pray'd.
He catechis'd the maid;
Hoping she always went to church,
And like a Christian pray'd.
And gently would he squeeze her hand,
When nobody was near;
And kindly pat her rosy cheek,
With many a holy leer.
When nobody was near;
And kindly pat her rosy cheek,
With many a holy leer.
And when the parson took a draught,
He did persuade the lass
To wet her lovely lips, and leave
A kiss within the glass.
He did persuade the lass
To wet her lovely lips, and leave
A kiss within the glass.
For ev'n the gravest of divines
To Beauty's empire yield;
And spite of all their zeal and grace,
Old Nick hath won the field.
To Beauty's empire yield;
And spite of all their zeal and grace,
Old Nick hath won the field.
Lo! Bishop Keppel felt the charm,
And waver'd from his duty:
Confirming once a nice young maid,
He gave up God for Beauty;
And waver'd from his duty:
Confirming once a nice young maid,
He gave up God for Beauty;
So press'd her head with amorous hand,
When lo, two large black pins,
That slily lurk'd within her hair,
Attack'd him for his sins.
When lo, two large black pins,
That slily lurk'd within her hair,
Attack'd him for his sins.
75
Deep in his flesh they urg'd their way;
When, starting, the divine
Exclaim'd, ‘G---d d*mn the head! I think
The girl's a porcupine.’
When, starting, the divine
Exclaim'd, ‘G---d d*mn the head! I think
The girl's a porcupine.’
Old Snuffle too, the parish clerk,
Did sometimes call for ale;
And knew not (when the maid was near)
If mild it was, or stale.
Did sometimes call for ale;
And knew not (when the maid was near)
If mild it was, or stale.
Of spectacles that rode his nose,
He wink'd through each horn'd glass;
And, goat-like, lick'd his watering lips,
That long'd to buss the lass.
He wink'd through each horn'd glass;
And, goat-like, lick'd his watering lips,
That long'd to buss the lass.
Than o'er his Bible in the pew,
Of pounds I would lay ten,
Old Snuffle would much rather say,
O'er Ellen's lips, amen.
Of pounds I would lay ten,
Old Snuffle would much rather say,
O'er Ellen's lips, amen.
The dullest eye can beauty see,
'Tis lightning on the sight;
Indeed it is a general bait,
And man, the fish, will bite.
'Tis lightning on the sight;
Indeed it is a general bait,
And man, the fish, will bite.
Now Boniface talk'd of Lord Rolle,
A lord in fight so frisky;
Who made an old dame prisoner,
And took away her whisky.
A lord in fight so frisky;
Who made an old dame prisoner,
And took away her whisky.
And eke on trav'lling corpses seiz'd,
As fierce as any shark;
And bullied, like a thunder-storm,
The parson and the clerk.
As fierce as any shark;
And bullied, like a thunder-storm,
The parson and the clerk.
And now they talk'd of Sunday schools,
Once deem'd a glorious thing;
Prais'd and supported by the great,
Admir'd by queen and king.
Once deem'd a glorious thing;
Prais'd and supported by the great,
Admir'd by queen and king.
76
But now 'gainst Sunday schools, alack,
The great folk turn their faces;
For fear the poor, by learning, should
Grow wiser than their graces.
The great folk turn their faces;
For fear the poor, by learning, should
Grow wiser than their graces.
For no great man indeed can bear
That man of low degree
Should read and write, since that poor man
May be as wise as he.
That man of low degree
Should read and write, since that poor man
May be as wise as he.
There is a lofty dame call'd Pride,
With corns upon her toes:
On which the mob is apt to tread,
And very oft, God knows.
With corns upon her toes:
On which the mob is apt to tread,
And very oft, God knows.
Now this high dame companion is
Of lords, and dukes, and kings;
And duchesses, and eke of queens,
Indeed, and such like things.
Of lords, and dukes, and kings;
And duchesses, and eke of queens,
Indeed, and such like things.
And lo! she whispers to the great
To keep themselves aloof;
Nay, crush the poor like some sad worm
Beneath a horse's hoof.
To keep themselves aloof;
Nay, crush the poor like some sad worm
Beneath a horse's hoof.
And lo! the great her counsel take,
And ears of poor folks crop;
Nay, flog the poor at times, poor souls!
As schoolboys flog a top.
And ears of poor folks crop;
Nay, flog the poor at times, poor souls!
As schoolboys flog a top.
Now of a princess sweet they talk'd,
And pitied her hard fate;
‘O Lord! O Lord!’ said Boniface,
‘Heav'n keep me from high state!’
And pitied her hard fate;
‘O Lord! O Lord!’ said Boniface,
‘Heav'n keep me from high state!’
‘Poor lady!’ Orson pitying said,
‘I've seen her many a time;
And seen the baby too with tears,
And ask'd about her crime.
‘I've seen her many a time;
And seen the baby too with tears,
And ask'd about her crime.
‘However people may invent,
Whatever folks shall say,
I won't believe—but think her still
A jewel flung away.
Whatever folks shall say,
I won't believe—but think her still
A jewel flung away.
77
“Such sweetness never could offend—
Then what's her guilt?” I cry'd;
‘But folks seem'd all afraid to speak,
And shook the head, and sigh'd.’
Then what's her guilt?” I cry'd;
‘But folks seem'd all afraid to speak,
And shook the head, and sigh'd.’
Then Ellen said, ‘I would not be
A princess, for the world.’—
‘Thou'rt more,’ quoth Orson, ‘or may I
To Old Nick's house be hurl'd!’
A princess, for the world.’—
‘Thou'rt more,’ quoth Orson, ‘or may I
To Old Nick's house be hurl'd!’
‘Thou art a queen,’ exclaims the youth;
And for a kiss he starts—
‘Who! I?’ rejoin'd th' astonish'd maid—
‘Yes, thou—the queen of hearts.’
And for a kiss he starts—
‘Who! I?’ rejoin'd th' astonish'd maid—
‘Yes, thou—the queen of hearts.’
The maid receiv'd the youth's salute
With such a modest air,
As though from Mistress Stevenson's ,
The empress of Queen-square.
With such a modest air,
As though from Mistress Stevenson's ,
The empress of Queen-square.
Now gentle reader, with thy leave,
I'll rest my tuneful tongue;
And shun of nightingales the fate,
Who die by too much song.
I'll rest my tuneful tongue;
And shun of nightingales the fate,
Who die by too much song.
| The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | |