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

Paris had liv'd a great while in Obscurity, at last being own'd by Alderman Priam a Rich Old Citizen, and receiv'd as his Son—he set up for a Gentleman; but very well knowing he could not be rightly accomplish'd without a Mistress, and hearing Fame speak viva voce in the praise of one Hellen, who liv'd somewhere in the North. He was at her house receiv'd, and during the absence of Menelaus her Husband, he endeavour'd to break his Mind to her; but being not thorough-pac'd in Gentility, his Modesty got the the upper hand of his Inclination, therefore he presently had recourse to his Pen, and writes her this conceited Letter.

Freely and from my heart without compelling,
I wish all health and happiness to Hellen:
For if yur're Sick, I'm sure to suffer pain;
As I'm a Lover and a Gentleman,

106

I need not tell you that I'm off oth' hooks,
Your Ladiship discerns it by my Looks:
For you whose Eyes have such a piercing quickness,
May see I'm overgrown in the Green-sickness;
So that upon the whole and perfect Matter,
I am your servant but I seem your Daughter.
I cou'd eat walls as well as white bred crum,
But fear to eat you out of house and home.
For this distemper I've read many Cures,
But the sole power of healing must be Yours.
Your Holiness (I cannot call you less,
That doth on Earth perform such Miracles,)
Your holiness I say within few weeks,
May fetch a lively colour in my Cheeks.
But if we are to long e're we begin,
I'm apt to fear it may corrupt within.
'Tis Love, 'tis Love, that makes me toss & tumble,
And in my Entrails does like Jollup rumble:

107

'Tis as impossible you should not see't,
As 'tis to hide the Pox both small and great.
'Tis Love, You know th' effects of that disease,
Therefore pray fall to work when e're you please.
If at these Lines you do not jeer nor Jybe,
There is some hopes you may receive the Scribe.

And Madam know, I did engage the Stars,
Before I durst engage in Cupid's Wars.
This is a grand affair, I had been silly
T'ave ventur'd on't whithout consulting Lilly:
To him I went for my own happy ends,
And all the Planets he hath made my Friends,
But above all, the most pellucid Venus,
Hath promis'd there should be a Job between us:
She knoweth best what's good for you and me,
She does command our Fates and Powers d'ye see.
Without her leave no living Lover stirs,
Paris, said she, put on your Boots and Spurs.

108

She did consent I should ascend my horse,
And toward your Mansion bend my glorious course.
Never by her was riding yet forbidden,
Her Goddess-ship with pleasure has been ridden.
My heart's upon the racking trot—alas!
But she can bring it to a Gentle pace.
Next, Madam, know, your Sight was no suprize,
I lov'd you by my Ears as well as Eyes.
Your Fame hath much out-sounded the Report,
Of the great Guns at taking of a Fort.
I came not here to seek terrestial pelf,
I made this progress for your heavenly self.
The Womb o'th' Universe if I should rifle,
To your more secret parts 'twere but a trifle.
To see your ancient Pile, I do not range,
We have more lofty Fabricks near th' Exchange.
'Twas for your sake I spurr'd my stubborn Steed,
For you alone thro' thick and thin I rid.

109

You're mine, what desperate mortal dares gainsay't?
Sure I may take my Planet's word for that.
I fain would tell your Ladiship a Dream,
If it would not too great a trouble seem.
My Mother dream't, when she with me was quick,
She should bring forth a lighted Fagot—stick:
I am that Fagot-stick, I burn apace,
Oh quench me, Madam, in your watring—place.
I've taken fire at you, as a match at tinder;
Cool me, or else your Servant is a Cinder.
This was my Mother's dream, I now design,
Under Correction, to relate your mine.

I laid me down to sleep one Summers day,
Under the shade of a new Stack of Hay;
For we poor Lovers, such is our hard case,
Are glad to take a Nap in any place;
Three naked Ladies came, I well remember,
As naked as the Trees are—in December;

110

They told me they'd be judg'd alone by me,
Which was the most deserving of the Three;
The first would bribe me with a Purse of Gold;
My Judgment's neither to be bought nor sold:
The second offer'd me a Tilting Sword,
Knowing I ne're would take an angry word:
But sayes the third, and in my face she giggled,
With such poor toyes you're not to be inveigled,
But if you value me above the rest,
Then know young—man, you are for ever blest.
Within a little time you shall arrive,
Where a resplendent Country Dame does live;
First you must court her like an humble Beggar,
At last shee'll yield, and you may lay your Leg—o're;
The Prize is yours, said I, you ought to take't,
I kiss'd her lower Parts, and so I wak'd.
My Dream is out, for thus I do explain it,
You are the Countrey Dame, and she the Planet.

111

Without delay I put on my accoutring,
And with full speed, I came to you—a—suitring.
But just as I was putting Foot in Stirrup,
Drinking with Friends a parting cup of Syrrup,
My Sister came to th' door, a mad young Lass,
Her name's Cassandra, but we call her Cass;
Brother, quoth she, beware, beware, I say,
You do not meet a Fireship by the way:
A strange wild Wench, I hope she did not mean
That any where your Ladiship's unclean;
Heavens forbid, Good Soul, she meant no more
Then flames of Love, as I have said before.
Being arriv'd at this your decent house,
Whom should I meet but your Illustrious Spouse?
He brought a Tankard out of good March Beer,
Cold Pork and Butter, and such houshold chear;
He ask'd—if ever I Tobacco took,
I said I'd take a pipe—but cou'd not smoak;

112

He shew'd m' his Garden, and his fine young Trees;
His Barn; his Stable, and his house of Ease:
I said 'twas wondrous pretty—but my mind
Still ran on what my Planet had design'd.
At last you came with such a dazling grace,
I thought the Sun and Moon was in your face,
Lilly's and Roses, Pinks and Violets,
Your looks were loaded with the vernal sweets;
Your poor adorer was in such amaze,
I vow and swear I knew not where I was;
Before I spoke I fell to private pray'r,
“Planet I thank the for thy tender care;
“Now thou hast rais'd my Bliss to such a pitch,
“I humbly beg, that thou'dst go thorough stitch.
At last I spake and bow'd in seemly wise,
And paid obeysance to your sparkling Eyes;
Your Beauty's greater than your fame did boast,
So is a May-Pole taller than a Post.

113

I've heard, you once conferr'd your gracious favour
On Theseus, who was thought a cunning shaver;
With him your Ladiship has play'd some Gambols,
Froliques y'have had, and many pleasant rambles.
But, by your Leave, your Lover was a Clown,
For leaving your bright Eminence so soon;
D'ye think that Paris would have serv'd you so,
Would he have let Illustrious Hellen go?
By Stix and Acheron your Servant swears,
Rather than part with you, he'll lose his Ears;
When that hour comes for which we both were born
And soon 'twill come, or Planet is forsworn;
When we shall lye entranc'd—entranc'd I say,
Then if you have the heart to go, you may;
Hasten, forsooth, hasten the happy Job,
For till't be done—my heart will shout and throb:

114

'Tis very fit that you and I should join,
Your Family's very good and so is mine.
My Father fin'd for Alderman, long since,
He's now grown rich, and lives like any Prince.
If you wou'd once make London your aboad.
You'd hate a Village as you'd hate a Toad.
Oh how your Ladiship wou'd stare to see
Our City Dames in all their Bravery.
They've Petticoats with Lace above their knees
Of Gold and Silver, or of Point Veni-ce;
Cornets and lofty Tow'rs upon the head,
And wondrous shapes of which you never read.
How ill a Pinner with a narrow Lace,
Becomes the Beauty of so bright a Face?
A fairer Face no mortal e're laid Lips to,
And I believe there are not whiter Hips too.
Too white to mingle with a Husband's thighes,
When I but think of that, my flesh does rise.

115

When towards me sometimes a Glance does pass,
Your poor Adorer looketh like an Ass.
For if I should return you Look for Look;
I fear your Husband will begin to smoak;
And I'll be hang'd, if ever Menelaus,
By any am'rous Look of mine, betray us;
Were it not at your Table I'd abuse him,
For thrusting his great Paw into your Bosom:
That Watry Fist between your Breast does seem
Like a brown George dropt in a Bowl of Cream.
I'm mad to see him draw his Chair so close,
And kiss, and hugg you underneath my Nose.
Then I go out, pretending to make Water,
Seeming to take no notice of the matter:
To all true Hearts I drink a Cup of Wine,
A Health that does imply both yours and mine,

116

Then seeming drunk, I tell some strange Romance,
And lay the Scene in Italy or France;
Of some bright Lady, and her brisk—Gall—ant;
By which two Lovers, you and I are meant.
But, Madam, to write more of this were nonsence,
My Planet has contriv'd the bus'ness long-since;
By curious search I something can discover,
'Tis in your Blood—you're born to be a Lover.
What think you Lady, of your Father Jove?
Shew me a Town-bull h'as been more in Love.
Your Mother, Læda, too, who gave you suck,
H'as she not been as good as ever struk?
When s'had a lusty Youth between her thighs,
What d'ee think? would Læda cry to rise?
Your Parents being as right as ever pist,
If you should be precise, you wou'd be hist.

117

But if you must be constant to one Man,
With me to London make what hast you can.
There wee'll provide a little Winter House,
And you shall pass for my renowned Spouse.
By what I see your Husband does approve,
That in your Absence here I should make Love.
Or wou'd he else have gone,—under pretence,
To buy a Horse—a hundred miles from hence?
The Bus'ness seems to me, as plain a case,
As is the Noise upon your beauteous face.
To let you know that I should be no clog,
Did he not say, Love me and love my Dog?
Nelly, said he, be kind unto my Guest,
And let his entertainment be the Best.
I presently his meaning understood,
If yours be not the Best—then nothing's good.
You see your Husband orders our affairs,
Therefore, dear Madam, do not hang an Arse,

118

But let's away to London—Crop does wait,
Saddled and bridled at the Garden—gate;
Crop's a good Natur'd Beast—and carries double,
And will not think your Ladiship a trouble.
Strike while the Iron's hot, my Love is fervant,
Get up, and ride behind—

Your humble Servant Paris.