The Works of Capt. Alex. Radcliffe :: :: University of Virginia Library

There hapning a Rebellion in Scotland, in that Army which went under the Command of the Duke; Ulysses went Voluntier. The Rebels being quell'd, the Army return'd home; but Ulysses lay loitring at some Inn on the Road; which when his Careful Wife Penelope understood, she sent him this Epistle; giving him an Account how Affairs stood at home

Your poor Penelope admires that you
Should ever use a Woman as you do!

Now every Soldier's at his own aboad,
You, like a Sot, lye tipling on the Road:

You are not left behind 'em as a Spy,
T'inform, in case of second Mutiny:
The Devil of Hell will have that Fellow surely,
Who first began this Plaguy Hurly-burly,
Had it not been for this unlucky Fight,
Y'ad stuck to work all day:—to me at night.

Poor I must drudge at home all sorts of weather
And knit,—as Heaven and Earth would come together;
Twirling a Wheel, I sit at home—hum-drum,
And spit away my Nature on my Thumb:
Thus while I spin, you, like a carefull Spouse,
Go reeling up and down from house to house.
Being you staid so long I did conjecture,
You had been maul'd by Sauny, the Scotch Hector:
Old Nestor's Son, that Fool, stood just by you,
When's empty Scull, they say, was spilt in two:

And, when he dropt, for all you are so stout,
You wish'd your self at home, in shitten clout.
Yet after all, Ulysses, I am glad
You are a live, though you're a scurvy Lad.

Our Neighbours here all day do tittle tattle,
And talk of nothing else but Blood and Battle;
Were you at home, you could not chuse but laugh
To hear 'em crack and bounce, now they are safe:
Perhaps when three or four of them are met,
And round about a Kitchin-Table set,
there's such a Noise a Clutter, and a Din,
The Rebel Scots are routed o're agen.

Some with Tobacco-Pipes upon a Table,
Do valiantly demonstrate to the Rabble
The Foes chief Strength; with that another Spark
Hamilton's House describes; a third, the Park;
Another spils some Ale upon the Bench,
And, with his Finger, learns you to entrench;

One acts how fierce our valiant Soldiers ran on,
Dismounts a Can, and tells you 'tis a Cannon;
Another cries Neighbours, observe and look,
This Pot's Sir Thomas, and this Glass the Duke.
Thus while the Husband draws this bloody Scheme,
The Wives, behind their Chairs, were in a Dream;
Nay, some of 'em (I question whether 'ts true)
Do tell some mighty Deeds perform'd by you;
That, being provok'd, you like a valiant man drew,
And cut a Scotch-man's Luggs off by St. Andrew:

I'm ne'er the nearer, though they're over-come,
If you'll not mind your Bus'ness here at Home:
For my own part, I would not care a pinn
If they were still in Arms, and you in mine:
Py'thee, come home; I cannot chuse but wonder
What a God's name you can be doing yonder:
By every Post and Carrier to the North
I've sent more Paper than your Neck is worth:

I've sent to Hull, to Berwick, and to Grantham;
I might as well have sent a Post to Bantam.
Perhaps some Tapster's Wife subdues your Heart,
Or else her Drink's so strong you cannot part:
And, when you're drunk, Lord, how your Tongue does run,
That you've a House well furnish'd here in Town,
In which your Wife (or rather, Drudge) doth dwell
As constantly at home, as Snail in Shell.
(But yet, when I remember parting Kisses,
Then, then, methinks thou shouldst be true, Ulysses.)

My Father says you're drow'd i'th watry Main;
The old-Man joques, and bids me wed again;
His Counsel; like himself is still unsound,
I'd rather he were hang'd than you were drown'd.

Every day here comes a sort of Fellows,
Enow to make a foolish Husband jealous,
From Whetston's-Park, Moor-fields, or such like places,
Fellows with Cuts and Frenches in their Faces;

There are but seven Fingers amongst four,
And here they domineer, and swear, and roar:
Two of 'em say, they have been vast Commanders,
The other trail'd a Pike with you in Flanders;
There's one of 'em, they call him, Merry Robert,
He, in a merry way, broke up the Cubboard;
Here hath been Irus too, that Irish Thief,
W' hath eaten up a Surloin of Roast-Bief;
What signifies my Father or my self,
We can't secure our Meat upon the Shelf?
What great defence can Nurse or little Boy-make
Against a Fellow with a Horses stomach?
The little Rogue your Son, was almost drown'd,
Padling about he tumbled in the Pond,
But we recover'd him with much ado,
I hope he'll prove a better Man than you.

In short, If speedily you do not come,
You will be eaten out of house and home:

The old Man's crazy, we from him must part;
And I have lay'd your usage so to heart,
That I am grown so wither'd now with Grief,
I look—more like your Mother than—

Your faithful Wife, PENELOPE.