The three tours of Doctor Syntax In search of 1. The picturesque, 2. Of consolation, 3. Of a wife. The text complete. [By William Combe] With four illustrations |
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 | The three tours of Doctor Syntax |  |
Patrick.—
“They're Gipsies, who, at times, are found
In ev'ry part, the country round.
All their strange habits I can tell, I know these wand'ring people well;
And I, perhaps, can tell you more,
Than e'er your Rev'rence heard before:
For one of them once took a twist To quit his people and enlist,
And serv'd, a gallant soldier he, In the same company with me.
Though he the Gipsy's life gave o'er, Jack Gipsy was the name he bore,
And bore it till poor gallant Jack Was laid in battle on his back;
I see him now as his death's wound Ran blood upon the sandy ground.
Full often have I heard him give The hist'ry how these vagrants live.
From place to place they're seen to roam,
Nor e'er possess a constant home:
They wander here, and wander there And shew their faces ev'rywhere:
They are all thieves, as it is said, And thus they gain their daily bread.
When of their thieving folks complain, Away they go,—but come again:
And though the people sometimes bang 'em,
I never heard that Judges hang 'em.
They have no trade, nor buy, nor sell,
But when they're paid will fortunes tell;
And I have heard they can deliver
Such strange things as make people shiver.
Religion Jack did ne'er profess,
Till he had shoulder'd Old Brown Bess:
For they ne'er keep a sabbath day,
Nor are they known to preach or pray;
They're said to be so prone to evil, As to have dealings with the Devil.
That the weak bend them to the strong
Is their great scheme of right and wrong;
With them it is a leading rule, That cunning should outwit the fool;
That no one is unjustly treated, Who with his open eyes is cheated.
They think it folly to pass by The tempting opportunity,
Which chance may offer, to obtain
Whate'er their wants may wish to gain:
They hold a pregnant lie well told, Is worth at least its weight in gold;
And their great care is to prevail By trick when bolder means may fail;
While their first wisdom is to teach
How to keep from the hangman's reach.
No matrimonial rites do they With solemn, plighted vows obey;
Thus jealousy, that painful feeling, Is what these people do not deal in:
Nor have they much of that foul jarring
Which brings on matrimonial sparring
In which, when foolishly enrag'd, I fear that I have been engag'd.
—Whenever they are on the rout 'Tis well to keep a good look-out;
An orchard, hen-roost, farmer's yard, Will then require a barking guard:
Besides they have a watchful eye To linen that's hung out to dry.
In short, whatever arts they deal in,
They have a perfect knack at stealing.
—If in those pots I were to peep, Perhaps a quarter of a sheep,
A fowl or something else as good,
Might sometimes prove they've dainty food,
Though, in hard times, they'll not say no,
To rats and mice and carrion crow.
—There's not a corner to be found In all Old England's ample round,
And Ireland too, where I have been,
Where these brown vagrants are not seen;
Nay, I have heard that they are known In countries far beyond our own;
Where with their fortune-telling art,
They play a strange mysterious part.
'Tis said that their strange, gibb'rish tongue,
Does to themselves alone belong.
Indeed, I oft have heard them speak, But to my mind it might be Greek:
It is not English I declare;— And 'tis not Irish, that I'll swear.
The men are active, stout and strong,
The women charming, when they're young:
Though with strange art their skins they dye,
Their teeth are white as ivory.
And with their hair so long and jetty Egad, Sir, they are very pretty:
And their black eyes, Oh! ------
Syntax.
------ “Patrick, cease
Your nonsense, and pray hold your peace.
I've heard all these things o'er and o'er,
But now I'll know a little more;
Nor e'er shall find such fit occasion,
To confer with this vagrant nation.”
“They're Gipsies, who, at times, are found
In ev'ry part, the country round.
All their strange habits I can tell, I know these wand'ring people well;
And I, perhaps, can tell you more,
Than e'er your Rev'rence heard before:
For one of them once took a twist To quit his people and enlist,
And serv'd, a gallant soldier he, In the same company with me.
Though he the Gipsy's life gave o'er, Jack Gipsy was the name he bore,
And bore it till poor gallant Jack Was laid in battle on his back;
I see him now as his death's wound Ran blood upon the sandy ground.
Full often have I heard him give The hist'ry how these vagrants live.
From place to place they're seen to roam,
Nor e'er possess a constant home:
They wander here, and wander there And shew their faces ev'rywhere:
They are all thieves, as it is said, And thus they gain their daily bread.
When of their thieving folks complain, Away they go,—but come again:
And though the people sometimes bang 'em,
I never heard that Judges hang 'em.
160
But when they're paid will fortunes tell;
And I have heard they can deliver
Such strange things as make people shiver.
Religion Jack did ne'er profess,
Till he had shoulder'd Old Brown Bess:
For they ne'er keep a sabbath day,
Nor are they known to preach or pray;
They're said to be so prone to evil, As to have dealings with the Devil.
That the weak bend them to the strong
Is their great scheme of right and wrong;
With them it is a leading rule, That cunning should outwit the fool;
That no one is unjustly treated, Who with his open eyes is cheated.
They think it folly to pass by The tempting opportunity,
Which chance may offer, to obtain
Whate'er their wants may wish to gain:
They hold a pregnant lie well told, Is worth at least its weight in gold;
And their great care is to prevail By trick when bolder means may fail;
While their first wisdom is to teach
How to keep from the hangman's reach.
No matrimonial rites do they With solemn, plighted vows obey;
Thus jealousy, that painful feeling, Is what these people do not deal in:
Nor have they much of that foul jarring
Which brings on matrimonial sparring
In which, when foolishly enrag'd, I fear that I have been engag'd.
—Whenever they are on the rout 'Tis well to keep a good look-out;
An orchard, hen-roost, farmer's yard, Will then require a barking guard:
Besides they have a watchful eye To linen that's hung out to dry.
In short, whatever arts they deal in,
They have a perfect knack at stealing.
—If in those pots I were to peep, Perhaps a quarter of a sheep,
A fowl or something else as good,
Might sometimes prove they've dainty food,
Though, in hard times, they'll not say no,
To rats and mice and carrion crow.
—There's not a corner to be found In all Old England's ample round,
And Ireland too, where I have been,
Where these brown vagrants are not seen;
Nay, I have heard that they are known In countries far beyond our own;
Where with their fortune-telling art,
They play a strange mysterious part.
'Tis said that their strange, gibb'rish tongue,
Does to themselves alone belong.
Indeed, I oft have heard them speak, But to my mind it might be Greek:
It is not English I declare;— And 'tis not Irish, that I'll swear.
The men are active, stout and strong,
The women charming, when they're young:
Though with strange art their skins they dye,
Their teeth are white as ivory.
And with their hair so long and jetty Egad, Sir, they are very pretty:
And their black eyes, Oh! ------
161
------ “Patrick, cease
Your nonsense, and pray hold your peace.
I've heard all these things o'er and o'er,
But now I'll know a little more;
Nor e'er shall find such fit occasion,
To confer with this vagrant nation.”
| The three tours of Doctor Syntax | |