The Ingoldsby Legends or, Mirth and Marvels. By Thomas Ingoldsby [i.e. R. H. Barham] |
 | I. |
|
|
| I. |
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
|
|
| 1. |
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 3. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | The Ingoldsby Legends |  |
The May'r and his suite Are soon on their feet,—
(His worship kept house in the very same street,—)
At once he awakes, “His compliments” makes,
“He'll be up at the Church in a couple of shakes!”
Meanwhile the whole Convent is pulling and hauling,
And bawling and squalling And terribly mauling
The thief whose endeavour to follow his calling
Had thus brought him into a grasp so enthralling.—
Now high, now low, They drag “to and fro,”—
Now this way, now that way they twist him—but—No!—
The glazed eye of St. Aloys distinctly says “Poh!
You may pull as you please, I shall not let him go!”
Nay, more;—when his Worship at length came to say
He was perfectly ready to take him away,
And fat him to grace the next Auto-da-fé,
Still closer he prest The poor wretch to his breast,
While a voice—though his jaws still together were jamm'd—
Was heard from his chest, “If you do, I'll—” here slamm'd
The great door of the Church,—with so awful a sound
That the close of the good Bishop's sentence was drown'd!
(His worship kept house in the very same street,—)
At once he awakes, “His compliments” makes,
“He'll be up at the Church in a couple of shakes!”
Meanwhile the whole Convent is pulling and hauling,
And bawling and squalling And terribly mauling
179
Had thus brought him into a grasp so enthralling.—
Now high, now low, They drag “to and fro,”—
Now this way, now that way they twist him—but—No!—
The glazed eye of St. Aloys distinctly says “Poh!
You may pull as you please, I shall not let him go!”
Nay, more;—when his Worship at length came to say
He was perfectly ready to take him away,
And fat him to grace the next Auto-da-fé,
Still closer he prest The poor wretch to his breast,
While a voice—though his jaws still together were jamm'd—
Was heard from his chest, “If you do, I'll—” here slamm'd
The great door of the Church,—with so awful a sound
That the close of the good Bishop's sentence was drown'd!
| The Ingoldsby Legends | |