The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
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A NEW AND ACCURATE TRANSLATION OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. |
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 | The Shamrock |  |
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A NEW AND ACCURATE TRANSLATION OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.
The ARGUMENT.
During
the Siege of Troy, one Chryses, Chaplain to a neutral Lord of that
Country, cometh to the Camp of the Greeks, to ransom his Daughter, who had been
taken by one of their Parties, and was in the Possession of Agamemnon, their General: But
he, being unwilling to part with his Captive, sendeth her Father away, with ill Language,
and Threats. Chryses carrieth his Complaints to the young Lord Apollo, his Patron; who
being an ingenious Chymist, had found out the Art of making White-Powder.
This Lord
resenting the Insult offered to his Chaplain, shooteth a great Number of the Greeks. At last
Achilles (the Son of a Lady of great Quality, by a private Gentleman, and the most gallant
Officer in the whole Army) maketh this whole Affair be examined in the Presence of the General,
and of all the Troops: And, an old Fellow, who had been in the Service of the Peer,
and knew his Temper, discovereth the Mystery. This enrageth Agamemnon against him,
and against Achilles, whom he suspected (perhaps not without Reason) of having set the old
Man on declaring a Thing so prejudicial to his Amour. However, he sendeth back his fair
Lady, for the Welfare of his Army; but, out of Pique, taketh Achilles's Mistress from him.
Achilles telleth this to his Nurse, who was settled in that Part of the World; and, knowing
that she had some Interest with one Jove, who kept a noted Public-House near the Camp;
he sendeth her to him with a Request, which, he knew, would give the Trojans a great Advantage
over the Greeks. His Nurse succeedeth in her Commission. But Juno, Jove's
Wife, is very angry with her Husband for complying with Nurse's Request. The grey Mare
not being the better Horse, in that Family, Juno is in great Danger of rough Usage from
Jove: By good Luck for her, her natural Son endeavoureth to pacify them; and, by his
awkward Figure, and silly Speech on that Occasion, turneth their Quarrel into Merriment,
and setteth all those, who were by, in a continued Laughter. Among the Rest, Jove groweth
so good-humoured and generous, that he treateth the whole Company with Wine and
Music; and, at last, he and his Wife go most lovingly and comfortably to Bed, leaving the
young People below-stairs, to divert themselves as long as they should think proper.
239
240
Come, Clio, sing (if such your Will is)
The lasting Frolicks of Achilles;
That haughty Knight, whose surly Tricks
Brought heavy Bastings on the Greeks;
Hurling their Souls down Pluto's Stairs,
Before they 'd Time to say their Prayers;
While Hounds devour'd their Flesh above:
Thanks to the blessed Whim of Jove.
What made the Knight and General quarrel?
Had they been broaching some new Barrel?
The lasting Frolicks of Achilles;
That haughty Knight, whose surly Tricks
Brought heavy Bastings on the Greeks;
Hurling their Souls down Pluto's Stairs,
Before they 'd Time to say their Prayers;
While Hounds devour'd their Flesh above:
Thanks to the blessed Whim of Jove.
What made the Knight and General quarrel?
Had they been broaching some new Barrel?
No: one Latona's Bastard-son
Caus'd all the Mischief that was done:
His Father's Name—another Time,
I 'll bring it better into Rhyme—
White-Powder was this Spark's Invention:
(No Doubt, with villainous Intention)
And, being angry with our Chief,
He shot his Soldiers, like a Thief;
Because his Chaplain, proud, and chuff,
Had not been us'd with Form enough:
For, hearing that his Child and Heir
Was gone, by Fortune de la Guerre,
He brought an Hamper of Champaign,
To get poor stolen Miss again;
Shewing (to make his Suit the better)
His Tippet, and his Chaplain's Letter:
And, with an awkward, cringing Scrape,
(Us'd, to this Day, by Men in Crape)
Harangu'd one Red-Coat, then another;
But most, the General, and his Brother—
‘Heaven send you may cut Priam's Weezon;
‘And get Home safe, in proper Season:
‘But, first, give me my Peg again—
‘'Tis worth your While—here's right Champaign—
‘But, if you don't—see what will follow—
‘For I belong to Lord Apollo.’
Caus'd all the Mischief that was done:
His Father's Name—another Time,
I 'll bring it better into Rhyme—
White-Powder was this Spark's Invention:
(No Doubt, with villainous Intention)
And, being angry with our Chief,
He shot his Soldiers, like a Thief;
Because his Chaplain, proud, and chuff,
Had not been us'd with Form enough:
For, hearing that his Child and Heir
Was gone, by Fortune de la Guerre,
He brought an Hamper of Champaign,
To get poor stolen Miss again;
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His Tippet, and his Chaplain's Letter:
And, with an awkward, cringing Scrape,
(Us'd, to this Day, by Men in Crape)
Harangu'd one Red-Coat, then another;
But most, the General, and his Brother—
‘Heaven send you may cut Priam's Weezon;
‘And get Home safe, in proper Season:
‘But, first, give me my Peg again—
‘'Tis worth your While—here's right Champaign—
‘But, if you don't—see what will follow—
‘For I belong to Lord Apollo.’
Now all their Chaps began to water:
They cried, ‘Pray give the Man his Daughter—
‘Let us all take one hearty Swallow,
‘And drink an Health to that Apollo.’
They cried, ‘Pray give the Man his Daughter—
‘Let us all take one hearty Swallow,
‘And drink an Health to that Apollo.’
But Agamemnon (who, 'tis plain,
Lov'd Pullet better than Champaign)
Roar'd out, in hasty, furious Dudgeon—
‘Begone, you musty, old Curmudgeon—
‘Should you, at any Time, appear,
‘Now, or hereafter, sneaking here—
‘Not all those Badges of a Chaplain
‘Shall save you from an oaken Saplin.
‘As for your Peg, I 'll make her stray
‘Over the Hills and far away:
‘And when, at Home, I 'm in Repose,
‘She 'll rub my Shins, and dearn my Hose:
‘So, vex me not—but, if you 've Sense—
‘Carry away your Bones from hence.’
Lov'd Pullet better than Champaign)
Roar'd out, in hasty, furious Dudgeon—
‘Begone, you musty, old Curmudgeon—
‘Should you, at any Time, appear,
‘Now, or hereafter, sneaking here—
‘Not all those Badges of a Chaplain
‘Shall save you from an oaken Saplin.
‘As for your Peg, I 'll make her stray
‘Over the Hills and far away:
‘And when, at Home, I 'm in Repose,
‘She 'll rub my Shins, and dearn my Hose:
‘So, vex me not—but, if you 've Sense—
‘Carry away your Bones from hence.’
Old Chryses (for that was his Name)
Prov'd he was neither deaf, nor lame:
Away the frightned Parson flew,
And never stopp'd to bid Adieu;
But went, and laid before his Lord
The whole Transaction, Word for Word;
Adding these Grains of Adulation,
To give full Weight to his Narration—
‘Most noble Lord, by whose Protection
‘I often have escap'd an Action;
‘Who, with a wife, and powerful Hand,
‘Defend the Tenants on your Land;
‘Inventor of the sly Device
‘To drive away marauding Mice;
‘If ever I have torn my Breeches,
‘In hunting with you over Ditches;
‘Or entertain'd you at Backgammon,
‘When I should read Prideaux, or Hammond;
‘Use your Still-Powder in my Favour,
‘And bring the Greeks to good Behaviour.’
Prov'd he was neither deaf, nor lame:
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And never stopp'd to bid Adieu;
But went, and laid before his Lord
The whole Transaction, Word for Word;
Adding these Grains of Adulation,
To give full Weight to his Narration—
‘Most noble Lord, by whose Protection
‘I often have escap'd an Action;
‘Who, with a wife, and powerful Hand,
‘Defend the Tenants on your Land;
‘Inventor of the sly Device
‘To drive away marauding Mice;
‘If ever I have torn my Breeches,
‘In hunting with you over Ditches;
‘Or entertain'd you at Backgammon,
‘When I should read Prideaux, or Hammond;
‘Use your Still-Powder in my Favour,
‘And bring the Greeks to good Behaviour.’
The heinous Breach of Privilege
Put the young Peer in such a Rage,
That Home he went, and, in a Crack,
Brought down his Musket from the Rack,
With Powder-horn, and Store of Ball,
To play the Puck amongst them all:
The Neighbours star'd, who heard him rattle
With all his Implements of Battle.
Put the young Peer in such a Rage,
That Home he went, and, in a Crack,
Brought down his Musket from the Rack,
With Powder-horn, and Store of Ball,
To play the Puck amongst them all:
The Neighbours star'd, who heard him rattle
With all his Implements of Battle.
This happening on a foggy Day,
Perdu, behind an Hedge he lay;
And, by the Advantage of his Shelter,
Let fly his Comfits, helter skelter.
First, straying Hens, and Dogs, he hit;
But that was only Sport, as yet:
For, after he had charg'd again,
He tipp'd, at once, whole Files of Men:
And this he did nine Days together,
Being befriended by the Weather;
So that the drunken Sexton swore,
He never far'd so well before.
Perdu, behind an Hedge he lay;
And, by the Advantage of his Shelter,
Let fly his Comfits, helter skelter.
First, straying Hens, and Dogs, he hit;
But that was only Sport, as yet:
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He tipp'd, at once, whole Files of Men:
And this he did nine Days together,
Being befriended by the Weather;
So that the drunken Sexton swore,
He never far'd so well before.
At last, Achilles made a Clatter,
Insisting they should sift the Matter.
One Mother Juno sent the Hint
Of what those murdering Doings meant:
For she had spied them from her Garret,
And lov'd to prattle like a Parrot.
Besides, where could she get a Groat,
If all her Red-coats went to Pot?
Insisting they should sift the Matter.
One Mother Juno sent the Hint
Of what those murdering Doings meant:
For she had spied them from her Garret,
And lov'd to prattle like a Parrot.
Besides, where could she get a Groat,
If all her Red-coats went to Pot?
Achilles, thus inform'd, begun—
‘General, it's Time for us to run.
‘The Trojans, and Apollo haunt us:
‘Enough, in Conscience, for to daunt us.
‘If we stay here, we surely fall;
‘For, two to one are Odds at Ball.
‘However, first, consult some Wizard,
‘To know what frets Apollo's Gizzard:
‘Or, ask some Witch of noted Skill;
‘Or even some Gipsy, if you will:
‘For even Gipsies often tell us
‘Some Things which in our Youth befel us.
‘Perhaps the haughty Peer resents
‘That on his Land we pitch our Tents;
‘Or else he takes it ill of you,
‘That you have sent no how d' ye do.’
‘General, it's Time for us to run.
‘The Trojans, and Apollo haunt us:
‘Enough, in Conscience, for to daunt us.
‘If we stay here, we surely fall;
‘For, two to one are Odds at Ball.
‘However, first, consult some Wizard,
‘To know what frets Apollo's Gizzard:
‘Or, ask some Witch of noted Skill;
‘Or even some Gipsy, if you will:
‘For even Gipsies often tell us
‘Some Things which in our Youth befel us.
‘Perhaps the haughty Peer resents
‘That on his Land we pitch our Tents;
‘Or else he takes it ill of you,
‘That you have sent no how d' ye do.’
This said, up comes a cunning Shaver,
And much in Lord Apollo's Favour,
Who having taught him many Tricks,
Let him earn Pence among the Greeks.
He knew how long next June would last,
And whether it was come, or past;
Or, could pronounce a Shower at Hand,
When he felt Rain upon his Band:
And, therefore, was in constant Pay,
To tell them when to make their Hay.
For this he lov'd the Greeks like Pye:
(And so, perhaps, would you, or I)
So, having made some little Pause,
Larded with prudent Hums, and Haws,
He thus began—‘My worthy Knight,
‘I'm sure that I can set you right.
‘But, first, pray let me make you swear
‘To be my Bail in this Affair:
‘For, there's a certain Person here,
‘Whose damping Frowns I hugely fear:
‘And when great Folks once take a Spite—
‘Poor Devils always suffer by 't:
‘A Day, or two, their Spleen they'll hide well;
‘Then, in a Whiff—away to Bridewell.
‘But, if your Honour takes my Part,
‘I'll do the Job with all my Heart.’
And much in Lord Apollo's Favour,
244
Let him earn Pence among the Greeks.
He knew how long next June would last,
And whether it was come, or past;
Or, could pronounce a Shower at Hand,
When he felt Rain upon his Band:
And, therefore, was in constant Pay,
To tell them when to make their Hay.
For this he lov'd the Greeks like Pye:
(And so, perhaps, would you, or I)
So, having made some little Pause,
Larded with prudent Hums, and Haws,
He thus began—‘My worthy Knight,
‘I'm sure that I can set you right.
‘But, first, pray let me make you swear
‘To be my Bail in this Affair:
‘For, there's a certain Person here,
‘Whose damping Frowns I hugely fear:
‘And when great Folks once take a Spite—
‘Poor Devils always suffer by 't:
‘A Day, or two, their Spleen they'll hide well;
‘Then, in a Whiff—away to Bridewell.
‘But, if your Honour takes my Part,
‘I'll do the Job with all my Heart.’
To this the valiant Knight replied—
‘Old Thrifty, I'll secure your Hide.’
(For, courteous Reader, you must know,
The merry Soldiers call'd him so)
‘Speak, then: For, by yon' Luminary,
‘Guide of all Matters sublunary,
‘While I can stand upon my Toes,
‘No Man shall pluck you by the Nose:
‘No, not our blustering Truncheoneer,
‘Who rules the Roast, at present, here.’
‘Old Thrifty, I'll secure your Hide.’
(For, courteous Reader, you must know,
The merry Soldiers call'd him so)
‘Speak, then: For, by yon' Luminary,
‘Guide of all Matters sublunary,
‘While I can stand upon my Toes,
‘No Man shall pluck you by the Nose:
‘No, not our blustering Truncheoneer,
‘Who rules the Roast, at present, here.’
245
This having cur'd his Palpitation,
He thus resum'd his wise Oration—
‘You quite mistake, my worthy Masters,
‘The Cause of all these late Disasters.
‘Apollo doth not care a Farthing
‘For Trespass on his Land, or Garden;
‘And, as to any how d' ye do,
‘He values that but little, too.
‘No: 'tis our General's rude Behaviour,
‘(For I must say so—under Favour)
‘And keeping of his Chaplain's Daughter,
‘Occasions all this dreadful Slaughter.
‘So, be advis'd: Send back again
‘The Parson's Peggy, and Champaign;
‘And make the Peer some handsome Presents
‘Of Woodcocks, Ortolans, and Pheasants:
‘Perhaps he will become your Friend;
‘And so each Side will gain their End.’
He thus resum'd his wise Oration—
‘You quite mistake, my worthy Masters,
‘The Cause of all these late Disasters.
‘Apollo doth not care a Farthing
‘For Trespass on his Land, or Garden;
‘And, as to any how d' ye do,
‘He values that but little, too.
‘No: 'tis our General's rude Behaviour,
‘(For I must say so—under Favour)
‘And keeping of his Chaplain's Daughter,
‘Occasions all this dreadful Slaughter.
‘So, be advis'd: Send back again
‘The Parson's Peggy, and Champaign;
‘And make the Peer some handsome Presents
‘Of Woodcocks, Ortolans, and Pheasants:
‘Perhaps he will become your Friend;
‘And so each Side will gain their End.’
This put the Chief in such a Flutter,
That he began to froth and sputter:
‘Tell me’ (he cried) ‘old Succubus,
‘What makes you always use me thus?
‘You're ever forming some Design,
‘Slily to injure me, or mine,
‘By whispering your malicious Chat.
‘[My poor Child Jenny's Case for that.]
‘And, now, you trump up this Affair,
‘Merely to make me odious here.
‘I own my Spouse be'nt half so pretty
‘As this young Captive; nor so witty.
‘Besides, my Lady's somewhat old;
‘And, now and then is apt to scold.
‘Yet, I will shew 'tis all Aspersion,
‘That I lose Men for my Diversion:
‘For, rather than to bear the Blame,
‘I'll send the Girl from whence she came.
‘But you must make me some Amends;
‘Or else—expect we shan't be Friends.’
That he began to froth and sputter:
‘Tell me’ (he cried) ‘old Succubus,
‘What makes you always use me thus?
‘You're ever forming some Design,
‘Slily to injure me, or mine,
‘By whispering your malicious Chat.
‘[My poor Child Jenny's Case for that.]
‘And, now, you trump up this Affair,
‘Merely to make me odious here.
‘I own my Spouse be'nt half so pretty
‘As this young Captive; nor so witty.
‘Besides, my Lady's somewhat old;
‘And, now and then is apt to scold.
246
‘That I lose Men for my Diversion:
‘For, rather than to bear the Blame,
‘I'll send the Girl from whence she came.
‘But you must make me some Amends;
‘Or else—expect we shan't be Friends.’
‘How make Amends? (replied Achilles)
‘That Matter much above your Skill is.
‘When Convents happen in our Way,
‘Each takes his Nun that very Day;
‘We make an honest Dividend;
‘And when that's done—why there's an End.
‘Could you, with Conscience, ask your Men
‘To raffle for their Girls again,
‘After they have so bravely fought,
‘To get a Wench, and earn—a Groat!
‘Pray now, for once, behave yourself:
‘Send off this young, unlucky Elf:
‘And, the next Covey we lay hand on,
‘A Brace, or two, you may depend on.’
‘That Matter much above your Skill is.
‘When Convents happen in our Way,
‘Each takes his Nun that very Day;
‘We make an honest Dividend;
‘And when that's done—why there's an End.
‘Could you, with Conscience, ask your Men
‘To raffle for their Girls again,
‘After they have so bravely fought,
‘To get a Wench, and earn—a Groat!
‘Pray now, for once, behave yourself:
‘Send off this young, unlucky Elf:
‘And, the next Covey we lay hand on,
‘A Brace, or two, you may depend on.’
‘Thank you for Nothing, Sir;’ (says th'other)
‘That won't do, though you were my Brother.
‘Think you that I will lie alone,
‘While you have Doxies of your own?
‘Sir Sophister, I'll let you know,
‘No Man alive shall fool me so.
‘Get me a Lass, fair, clean, and tight:
‘Find such an one—and all is right.
‘But, if you don't—then mark the End on 't—
‘I'll help myself—you may depend on 't—
‘And he whose Miss I take away,
‘Will curse his Stars, as sure as Day.
‘But—more of this when I'm at Leisure—
‘Meantime, it is my Will and Pleasure
‘To have the Damsel sent away,
‘On a clean Cart, well stuff'd with Hay;
‘That the poor Girl may sit with Ease on 't;
‘And, in her Lap the aforesaid Present.
‘A Score of Men, and some old Serjeant,
‘Must see this done, and have the Charge on 't:
‘Or, rather you, whose gallows Face
‘May scare Apollo into Peace.’
‘That won't do, though you were my Brother.
‘Think you that I will lie alone,
‘While you have Doxies of your own?
‘Sir Sophister, I'll let you know,
‘No Man alive shall fool me so.
‘Get me a Lass, fair, clean, and tight:
‘Find such an one—and all is right.
‘But, if you don't—then mark the End on 't—
‘I'll help myself—you may depend on 't—
‘And he whose Miss I take away,
‘Will curse his Stars, as sure as Day.
247
‘Meantime, it is my Will and Pleasure
‘To have the Damsel sent away,
‘On a clean Cart, well stuff'd with Hay;
‘That the poor Girl may sit with Ease on 't;
‘And, in her Lap the aforesaid Present.
‘A Score of Men, and some old Serjeant,
‘Must see this done, and have the Charge on 't:
‘Or, rather you, whose gallows Face
‘May scare Apollo into Peace.’
‘The D---l take your Face and Eyes!’
(Enrag'd Achilles straight replies)
‘Is this the Way you honour Merit!
‘Can you expect that Men of Spirit
‘Will risque their Bones against the Foe,
‘If they must be rewarded so?
‘The Trojans never stole my Geese;
‘My Cocks and Hens all roost in Peace:
‘For I'm secur'd from any Harm,
‘By double Fences round my Farm.
‘But I came here, and so did others,
‘Merely to serve two thankless Brothers,
‘For, though we bravely take your Part,
‘You think our Help not worth a F---.
‘Nay, what is worse, you even hinted,
‘That my Diversion should be stinted:
‘Though when I do some grand Affair,
‘I never get a Neighbour's Share.
‘You chuse a Dame in rich Brocade:
‘I take up with some homely Maid.
‘But, since I find you use me so,
‘Back to my Village will I go;
‘Where I shall meet with no such Usage,
‘And venture neither Wound, nor Bruisage:
‘Then, if I am not much mistaken,
‘You'll find it hard to save your Bacon.’
(Enrag'd Achilles straight replies)
‘Is this the Way you honour Merit!
‘Can you expect that Men of Spirit
‘Will risque their Bones against the Foe,
‘If they must be rewarded so?
‘The Trojans never stole my Geese;
‘My Cocks and Hens all roost in Peace:
‘For I'm secur'd from any Harm,
‘By double Fences round my Farm.
‘But I came here, and so did others,
‘Merely to serve two thankless Brothers,
‘For, though we bravely take your Part,
‘You think our Help not worth a F---.
‘Nay, what is worse, you even hinted,
‘That my Diversion should be stinted:
‘Though when I do some grand Affair,
‘I never get a Neighbour's Share.
‘You chuse a Dame in rich Brocade:
‘I take up with some homely Maid.
248
‘Back to my Village will I go;
‘Where I shall meet with no such Usage,
‘And venture neither Wound, nor Bruisage:
‘Then, if I am not much mistaken,
‘You'll find it hard to save your Bacon.’
‘Vamp off’ (says th'other) ‘when you will:
‘I'll have enough to help me still;
‘And chiefly he, whose grumbling Thunder
‘Can keep rebellious Rascals under.
‘Of all who fight by my Commission,
‘You're ever foremost in Sedition:
‘For you're a Buffer always rear'd in
‘The brutal Pleasures of Bear-garden.
‘If you are active, tall, and brawny,
‘And hardy, like an Highland Sawny;
‘Those Qualities, no Doubt, were given,
‘For nobler Ends, by bounteous Heaven.
‘Command at Home, your vermin Crew;
‘I value neither them, nor you.
‘But, mind my Words—I vow and swear,
‘As sure as I give up my Fair;
‘So surely shall you see me come,
‘With Pikes advanc'd, and Beat of Drum;
‘And (without saying—by your Leave)
‘I'll carry off your Favourite Slave;
‘That sturdy Mutineers may see
‘What 'tis to cock their Hats at me.’
‘I'll have enough to help me still;
‘And chiefly he, whose grumbling Thunder
‘Can keep rebellious Rascals under.
‘Of all who fight by my Commission,
‘You're ever foremost in Sedition:
‘For you're a Buffer always rear'd in
‘The brutal Pleasures of Bear-garden.
‘If you are active, tall, and brawny,
‘And hardy, like an Highland Sawny;
‘Those Qualities, no Doubt, were given,
‘For nobler Ends, by bounteous Heaven.
‘Command at Home, your vermin Crew;
‘I value neither them, nor you.
‘But, mind my Words—I vow and swear,
‘As sure as I give up my Fair;
‘So surely shall you see me come,
‘With Pikes advanc'd, and Beat of Drum;
‘And (without saying—by your Leave)
‘I'll carry off your Favourite Slave;
‘That sturdy Mutineers may see
‘What 'tis to cock their Hats at me.’
‘Now’ (thought Achilles) ‘shall I do 't?
‘Shall I dispatch this monstrous Brute?
‘Or shall I swallow down my Spittle,
‘And try to cool my Spleen a little?’
‘Shall I dispatch this monstrous Brute?
‘Or shall I swallow down my Spittle,
‘And try to cool my Spleen a little?’
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But, while he stood thus, shall I—shall I,
(His Sword half out) in comes one Polly,
An artful Wench, by Juno sent,
The impending Mischief to prevent:
She tipp'd his Back—with much Surprise,
He turn'd, and saw her roguish Eyes.
‘My old Acquaintance!’ (said the Knight)
‘Are you come here, to see us fight?
‘In Half a Minute, I'll be bound,
‘You'll see him sprawling on the Ground.’
(His Sword half out) in comes one Polly,
An artful Wench, by Juno sent,
The impending Mischief to prevent:
She tipp'd his Back—with much Surprise,
He turn'd, and saw her roguish Eyes.
‘My old Acquaintance!’ (said the Knight)
‘Are you come here, to see us fight?
‘In Half a Minute, I'll be bound,
‘You'll see him sprawling on the Ground.’
‘I'm come’, (said she) ‘in Juno's Name,
‘To tell you, you are both to blame.
‘She loves you both, and dreads to see
‘Two Customers at Sneeger-snee:
‘Scold, if you will, and rant, and vapour;
‘But sheath that ugly, frightful Rapier:
‘As far as I can understand,
‘He'll soon ask Pardon, Cap in Hand.’
‘To tell you, you are both to blame.
‘She loves you both, and dreads to see
‘Two Customers at Sneeger-snee:
‘Scold, if you will, and rant, and vapour;
‘But sheath that ugly, frightful Rapier:
‘As far as I can understand,
‘He'll soon ask Pardon, Cap in Hand.’
‘Well:’ (quoth the Knight) ‘then, be it so:
‘I will not make your Dame my Foe:
‘For, those, who humour Mother Juno,
‘Get the first Choice of—Goods that you know.’
‘I will not make your Dame my Foe:
‘For, those, who humour Mother Juno,
‘Get the first Choice of—Goods that you know.’
Poll, having tam'd her stubborn Mule,
She straight return'd to Juno's School.
But, still, the Knight, in feverish State,
Was parch'd within by wrathful Heat;
And therefore us'd the following Vomit,
In Hopes to get some Cooling from it.
She straight return'd to Juno's School.
But, still, the Knight, in feverish State,
Was parch'd within by wrathful Heat;
And therefore us'd the following Vomit,
In Hopes to get some Cooling from it.
250
‘You drunken Cur! you dastard Heart?
‘You finely act a General's Part!
‘Fighting was never yet your Trade,
‘In open Field, or Ambuscade.
‘So far you're wise: 'Tis safer here,
‘To prate, and puff, and domineer;
‘Feathering your Nest, by plundering those
‘Who dare your lordly Will oppose.
‘You Canibal! had Soldiers Sense,
‘This should have been your last Offence.
‘But, now, I swear an Oath, by far
‘The strongest us'd in Forms of War—
‘By this round, taper Partizan,
‘Plann'd by a skilful Artizan,
‘Who rent it from its parent Tree;
‘(As I, henceforth, am rent from thee)
‘And such as careful Captains keep;
‘To stab a Foe, or stick a Sheep;
‘This honest, valiant, nervous Fist
‘By Greece, and you, will soon be miss'd.
‘When Hector slays your Men by Dozens,
‘You'll wish, we still were Cater-Cousins:
‘For, when you cringe, and whine, and bawl,
‘I'll only say—P**x take you all.’
‘You finely act a General's Part!
‘Fighting was never yet your Trade,
‘In open Field, or Ambuscade.
‘So far you're wise: 'Tis safer here,
‘To prate, and puff, and domineer;
‘Feathering your Nest, by plundering those
‘Who dare your lordly Will oppose.
‘You Canibal! had Soldiers Sense,
‘This should have been your last Offence.
‘But, now, I swear an Oath, by far
‘The strongest us'd in Forms of War—
‘By this round, taper Partizan,
‘Plann'd by a skilful Artizan,
‘Who rent it from its parent Tree;
‘(As I, henceforth, am rent from thee)
‘And such as careful Captains keep;
‘To stab a Foe, or stick a Sheep;
‘This honest, valiant, nervous Fist
‘By Greece, and you, will soon be miss'd.
‘When Hector slays your Men by Dozens,
‘You'll wish, we still were Cater-Cousins:
‘For, when you cringe, and whine, and bawl,
‘I'll only say—P**x take you all.’
Having thus ended his Harangue,
He threw his Pike with scornful Bang,
Down on the Ground, as who should say—
There's my Commission dash'd away.
He threw his Pike with scornful Bang,
Down on the Ground, as who should say—
There's my Commission dash'd away.
And now, the Chief, in furious Heat,
Would have return'd his Billing's-gate;
When mild and prudent Nestor rose,
Fearing the two might come to Blows.
His Looks, and Tongue were soft as Satin;
And every Word he spoke came pat in;
Thrice thirty Years he'd scratch'd his B---m;
Yet was as sound as any Drum.
Would have return'd his Billing's-gate;
When mild and prudent Nestor rose,
Fearing the two might come to Blows.
251
And every Word he spoke came pat in;
Thrice thirty Years he'd scratch'd his B---m;
Yet was as sound as any Drum.
‘Odsbuds’ (said he) ‘these madcap Tricks
‘Will prove the Ruin of the Greeks.
‘Doubtless, it will be dainty Sport
‘To Priam, and to all his Court,
‘To hear that the two Cocks of Greece
‘Can't find the Way to live in Peace.
‘Be rul'd: I've Wrinkles in my nether-
‘-Parts, more than your's, both put together.
‘When I was young, your Betters paid
‘A great Regard to what I said:
‘For I shall never see again
‘Such jolly kick-and-cuffing Men:
‘One of them could have maul'd, with Ease,
‘Ten Fribbles of the modern Days.
‘Yet, when their Schemes were out of Joint,
‘They ask'd my Thoughts upon the Point.
‘Do you the same; you both will find
‘That Leading greatly helps the Blind.
‘Imprimis, General, don't bereave him
‘Of the Bed-fellow th'Army gave him.
‘Next, Sir Achilles, you're but young;
‘So learn to keep a civil Tongue:
‘For, though you are a valiant Don,
‘And an high Dutchess calls you Son;
‘Comparisons will never do,
‘Between so great a Man, and you:
‘For you but act as Brigadeer;
‘But he is Grand Veldt-Marshal here.
‘General, your Prudence will suffice you;
‘You don't want others to advise you:
‘Therefore, consult your own Discretion;
‘And leave this Youth to my Correction;
‘For, after all, you cannot say,
‘But that he fully earns his Pay.’
‘Will prove the Ruin of the Greeks.
‘Doubtless, it will be dainty Sport
‘To Priam, and to all his Court,
‘To hear that the two Cocks of Greece
‘Can't find the Way to live in Peace.
‘Be rul'd: I've Wrinkles in my nether-
‘-Parts, more than your's, both put together.
‘When I was young, your Betters paid
‘A great Regard to what I said:
‘For I shall never see again
‘Such jolly kick-and-cuffing Men:
‘One of them could have maul'd, with Ease,
‘Ten Fribbles of the modern Days.
‘Yet, when their Schemes were out of Joint,
‘They ask'd my Thoughts upon the Point.
‘Do you the same; you both will find
‘That Leading greatly helps the Blind.
‘Imprimis, General, don't bereave him
‘Of the Bed-fellow th'Army gave him.
‘Next, Sir Achilles, you're but young;
‘So learn to keep a civil Tongue:
‘For, though you are a valiant Don,
‘And an high Dutchess calls you Son;
252
‘Between so great a Man, and you:
‘For you but act as Brigadeer;
‘But he is Grand Veldt-Marshal here.
‘General, your Prudence will suffice you;
‘You don't want others to advise you:
‘Therefore, consult your own Discretion;
‘And leave this Youth to my Correction;
‘For, after all, you cannot say,
‘But that he fully earns his Pay.’
Quoth Agamemnon ‘Not to flatter,
‘Your Speech was fraught with useful Matter;
‘But he must always bounce, and hector,
‘And set up here for chief Director.
‘That Man, indeed, must be a true Sage,
‘Who can submit to such vile Usage.
‘What though his Fist be hard and brawny,
‘Must I, forsooth, be made his Zany?’
‘Your Speech was fraught with useful Matter;
‘But he must always bounce, and hector,
‘And set up here for chief Director.
‘That Man, indeed, must be a true Sage,
‘Who can submit to such vile Usage.
‘What though his Fist be hard and brawny,
‘Must I, forsooth, be made his Zany?’
Says th'other, ‘Call me Ragamuffin,
‘When I am daunted by your Huffing.
‘Frighten your Slaves with Noise and Squabbling:
‘I value not your senseless Babbling.
‘But, hear what I shall tell your Honours—
‘A Gift demanded by the Donors
‘I scorn to keep; and spurn away
‘What you bestow'd me th'other Day.
‘No more the Son of Peleus draws
‘His Sword in any Strumpet's Cause.
‘But, as for you, illustrious Chief,
‘If you attempt to play the Thief,
‘And venture other Things to rifle,
‘Although it were the smallest Trifle;
‘My Sword shall bore a Hole to reach
‘Down from your Navel to your Br---.’
‘When I am daunted by your Huffing.
‘Frighten your Slaves with Noise and Squabbling:
‘I value not your senseless Babbling.
‘But, hear what I shall tell your Honours—
‘A Gift demanded by the Donors
‘I scorn to keep; and spurn away
‘What you bestow'd me th'other Day.
‘No more the Son of Peleus draws
‘His Sword in any Strumpet's Cause.
‘But, as for you, illustrious Chief,
‘If you attempt to play the Thief,
‘And venture other Things to rifle,
‘Although it were the smallest Trifle;
253
‘Down from your Navel to your Br---.’
This Squabble ended, up they got,
Each, to put down his Spit, or Pot.
But Agamemnon straightway sent
For smart Ulysses th'Adjutant,
And gave him Orders to convoy
The Presents, and the female Toy.
This Business done, he gave Direction
To guard the camp against Infection,
By sweeping all the Filth away,
Blood, Lints, and Plaisters, in the Sea:
Which being finish'd, down they sat,
To eat, and drink, and laugh, and chat.
Each, to put down his Spit, or Pot.
But Agamemnon straightway sent
For smart Ulysses th'Adjutant,
And gave him Orders to convoy
The Presents, and the female Toy.
This Business done, he gave Direction
To guard the camp against Infection,
By sweeping all the Filth away,
Blood, Lints, and Plaisters, in the Sea:
Which being finish'd, down they sat,
To eat, and drink, and laugh, and chat.
The Chief, as angry as at first,
Determin'd, now, to do his worst.
He had two Drummers, useful Imps,
Yclept, in th'old, mean Idiom—Pimps;
But, now, by Men in higher Spheres,
Call'd—Confidents; sometimes—Premiers:
These Girl-hounds he dispatch'd away,
Knowing them keen at female Prey.
‘Go, bid’ (said he) ‘young Colonel Bluff
‘Send me his Girl—and that's enough:
‘For, if he dares demur, or grumble,
‘Superior Force shall make him humble.’
Determin'd, now, to do his worst.
He had two Drummers, useful Imps,
Yclept, in th'old, mean Idiom—Pimps;
But, now, by Men in higher Spheres,
Call'd—Confidents; sometimes—Premiers:
These Girl-hounds he dispatch'd away,
Knowing them keen at female Prey.
‘Go, bid’ (said he) ‘young Colonel Bluff
‘Send me his Girl—and that's enough:
‘For, if he dares demur, or grumble,
‘Superior Force shall make him humble.’
Away they went in doleful Plight,
Dreading the Choler of the Knight.
At last, they found him by his Tent;
But durst not tell him what they meant:
Yet, as a Drum's a martial Warrant,
He guess'd, with Ease, their odious Errand.
Says he, ‘I much respect your Office;
‘For, who can drum, and pimp, no Oaf is.
‘I blame you not, my Lads; draw near:
‘Too well I know your Business here—
‘This Friend of mine shall bring the Lass—
‘But tell your Master he's an Ass.
‘He might reflect (th'ungrateful Beast!)
‘That he will want me all in Haste:
‘And then, by—but I will forbear;
‘For none but Bullies love to swear.’
Dreading the Choler of the Knight.
At last, they found him by his Tent;
But durst not tell him what they meant:
Yet, as a Drum's a martial Warrant,
He guess'd, with Ease, their odious Errand.
Says he, ‘I much respect your Office;
‘For, who can drum, and pimp, no Oaf is.
254
‘Too well I know your Business here—
‘This Friend of mine shall bring the Lass—
‘But tell your Master he's an Ass.
‘He might reflect (th'ungrateful Beast!)
‘That he will want me all in Haste:
‘And then, by—but I will forbear;
‘For none but Bullies love to swear.’
Scarce had he said this, when his Friend
Led out the Damsel by the Hand.
Away she went in silent Dumps,
Oblig'd to trudge it on her Stumps:
While the Knight's Eyes, in plenteous Tide,
Pour'd forth the Venom of his Pride.
Led out the Damsel by the Hand.
Away she went in silent Dumps,
Oblig'd to trudge it on her Stumps:
While the Knight's Eyes, in plenteous Tide,
Pour'd forth the Venom of his Pride.
He had a Nurse, who, as they say,
Was famous for her Curds and Whey;
And, being cleanly, would not fail,
Twice in a Day, to scour her Pail.
The Spot he knew, and thither went,
To tell her all his Discontent;
And, as he stood above the Stairs,
He blended thus his 'Plaints, and Prayers—
‘Heaven send that Death may end my Trouble,
‘Rather than I should live a Bubble:
‘Instead of getting double Pay,
‘The Chief has forc'd my Girl away.’
Was famous for her Curds and Whey;
And, being cleanly, would not fail,
Twice in a Day, to scour her Pail.
The Spot he knew, and thither went,
To tell her all his Discontent;
And, as he stood above the Stairs,
He blended thus his 'Plaints, and Prayers—
‘Heaven send that Death may end my Trouble,
‘Rather than I should live a Bubble:
‘Instead of getting double Pay,
‘The Chief has forc'd my Girl away.’
The Nurse, who heard her Son lament,
Left there her Pail, and up she went;
Half hid in ambient Steams of Sweat,
She hugg'd and kiss'd her blubbering Pet—
‘Who vex'd my Child? Come, tell me true,
‘That I may cry, as well as you.’
Left there her Pail, and up she went;
Half hid in ambient Steams of Sweat,
She hugg'd and kiss'd her blubbering Pet—
‘Who vex'd my Child? Come, tell me true,
‘That I may cry, as well as you.’
255
‘You know’ (said he) ‘the greater Part
‘Of what torments my aking Heart:
‘But, since you want to hear it twice,
‘I will dispatch it in a Trice.’
‘Of what torments my aking Heart:
‘But, since you want to hear it twice,
‘I will dispatch it in a Trice.’
So, he recounted every Battle;
What Towns he took, and how much Cattle;
And, lastly, how it came to pass,
That he had gain'd—and lost his Lass.
‘And now’ (said he) ‘I well remember,
‘(Some Holyday, in last December,
‘As we sat by the Fire to heat us,
‘Roasting our Shins, and some Potatoes:
‘Your Goodman, too, I'm sure, was by;
‘And he can tell as well as I)
‘I heard you boast how, on a Day,
‘When you went out to cry your Whey,
‘Just passing by the House of Jove,
‘You heard a dreadful Noise above;
‘And, going up, you saw, at once,
‘Three Rogues (who would have built a Sconse )
‘Falling upon their helpless Host,
‘Whom they were tying to a Post.
‘You ran with all the Legs you had,
‘And call'd a lusty Irish Lad,
‘Who was a Chairman by Profession,
‘Like many others of his Nation;
‘(Bryan, at Home, a Rogue of Fame;
‘But Egan was his travelling Name)
‘He came, and with his Pole drove out
‘The Villains who had made the Rout.
‘Jove, thankful, pray'd him to sit down;
‘And gave him Drink, and Half a Crown.
‘Tell him of this; and beg that he
‘May do so much, for you and me,
‘As to deny, for several Weeks,
‘To sell his Brandy to the Greeks;
‘That, while they're faint, and out of Heart,
‘Troy may have Room to play her Part:
‘And, then, our Army soon will see
‘What 'tis t'affront a Man like me.’
What Towns he took, and how much Cattle;
And, lastly, how it came to pass,
That he had gain'd—and lost his Lass.
‘And now’ (said he) ‘I well remember,
‘(Some Holyday, in last December,
‘As we sat by the Fire to heat us,
‘Roasting our Shins, and some Potatoes:
‘Your Goodman, too, I'm sure, was by;
‘And he can tell as well as I)
‘I heard you boast how, on a Day,
‘When you went out to cry your Whey,
‘Just passing by the House of Jove,
‘You heard a dreadful Noise above;
‘And, going up, you saw, at once,
‘Three Rogues (who would have built a Sconse )
‘Falling upon their helpless Host,
‘Whom they were tying to a Post.
‘You ran with all the Legs you had,
‘And call'd a lusty Irish Lad,
‘Who was a Chairman by Profession,
‘Like many others of his Nation;
‘(Bryan, at Home, a Rogue of Fame;
‘But Egan was his travelling Name)
‘He came, and with his Pole drove out
‘The Villains who had made the Rout.
256
‘And gave him Drink, and Half a Crown.
‘Tell him of this; and beg that he
‘May do so much, for you and me,
‘As to deny, for several Weeks,
‘To sell his Brandy to the Greeks;
‘That, while they're faint, and out of Heart,
‘Troy may have Room to play her Part:
‘And, then, our Army soon will see
‘What 'tis t'affront a Man like me.’
‘My Chick,’ (said she, brimful of Tears)
‘You must excuse poor Nurse's Fears;
‘For, much I dread, some Sword, or Bullet
‘Will make an End of Mammy's Pullet:
‘And, after all, they pay your Bravery
‘With nothing else but Tricks, and Knavery.
‘In an ill Hour I gave you Suck,
‘If you're to have no better Luck.
‘I'll go to Jove, and speak him fair;
‘For one must coax the surly Bear:
‘But, have no Battling with the Foe,
‘'Till you're inform'd how Matters go.
‘Jove's gone, at present, to decoy
‘Fresh Country-Girls some Miles from Troy;
‘With Shoals of Sweetners whom he pays,
‘To swear to every Thing he says.
‘He'll only stay 'till Friday Se'nnight;
‘And, then, I'll have him in a Minute:
‘I fancy I shall do some Good,
‘Unless he's in a devilish Mood.’
‘You must excuse poor Nurse's Fears;
‘For, much I dread, some Sword, or Bullet
‘Will make an End of Mammy's Pullet:
‘And, after all, they pay your Bravery
‘With nothing else but Tricks, and Knavery.
‘In an ill Hour I gave you Suck,
‘If you're to have no better Luck.
‘I'll go to Jove, and speak him fair;
‘For one must coax the surly Bear:
‘But, have no Battling with the Foe,
‘'Till you're inform'd how Matters go.
257
‘Fresh Country-Girls some Miles from Troy;
‘With Shoals of Sweetners whom he pays,
‘To swear to every Thing he says.
‘He'll only stay 'till Friday Se'nnight;
‘And, then, I'll have him in a Minute:
‘I fancy I shall do some Good,
‘Unless he's in a devilish Mood.’
After some dripping Tears were blended,
This savoury Conversation ended.
This savoury Conversation ended.
[Reader, by this, you partly do know,
That Jove kept House with Mother Juno:
But 'tis not yet determin'd fully,
Whether as Husband, or as Bully:
Proceed we now, and (as they say)
Leave the Dispute sub Judice. ]
That Jove kept House with Mother Juno:
But 'tis not yet determin'd fully,
Whether as Husband, or as Bully:
Proceed we now, and (as they say)
Leave the Dispute sub Judice. ]
During this Time, the General's Envoy
Was safe arriv'd, with Cart, and Convoy;
And, like a wise, experienc'd Captain,
Pockets the Cloth, the Fowl was wrapp'd in:
Next, from the Cart he plucks some Hay,
To serve the Horses, for the Day:
The Hamper, too, well corded round,
He gently lays upon the Ground:
Then he brings down impatient Miss;
For she had wanted, long, to—kiss
Her own Papa, and get his Blessing;
And then, to go and fall to dressing.
Was safe arriv'd, with Cart, and Convoy;
And, like a wise, experienc'd Captain,
Pockets the Cloth, the Fowl was wrapp'd in:
Next, from the Cart he plucks some Hay,
To serve the Horses, for the Day:
The Hamper, too, well corded round,
He gently lays upon the Ground:
Then he brings down impatient Miss;
For she had wanted, long, to—kiss
Her own Papa, and get his Blessing;
And then, to go and fall to dressing.
258
Ulysses having met the Priest,
(His Wild-fowl dangling from his Fist)
‘Thus low,’ (said he) ‘I humbly truckle
‘To kiss one Corner of your Buckle.
‘Here is your Daughter, and Champaign:
‘You've every Flask o'nt safe again.
‘My General, as in Duty bound,
‘First, is your Servant to the Ground:
‘Next, hopes you'll give your Lord this Present:
‘'Tis small—but, then—'tis all he has on't:
‘Lastly, he begs your Intercession,
‘T'appease your angry Patron's Passion’.
(His Wild-fowl dangling from his Fist)
‘Thus low,’ (said he) ‘I humbly truckle
‘To kiss one Corner of your Buckle.
‘Here is your Daughter, and Champaign:
‘You've every Flask o'nt safe again.
‘My General, as in Duty bound,
‘First, is your Servant to the Ground:
‘Next, hopes you'll give your Lord this Present:
‘'Tis small—but, then—'tis all he has on't:
‘Lastly, he begs your Intercession,
‘T'appease your angry Patron's Passion’.
Miss leap'd about her Father's Neck,
With such a Spring as made it crack;
And he so strongly hugg'd her Waist,
That she had like to—sigh at least.
With such a Spring as made it crack;
And he so strongly hugg'd her Waist,
That she had like to—sigh at least.
Just in the Nick, up comes the Peer:
All made their Honours, and drew near.
‘My Lord,’ (says Chryses) ‘see who's there!
‘Thanks to your Friendship in the Affair.
‘The Chief asks Pardon; and has sent you
‘Some Wild-fowl, which I here present you.
‘Since he has made Amends, at last,
‘I beg, forget all Quarrels past.
‘But, as it's almost Time to think
‘Of laying in some Meat, and Drink,
‘Honour my Cottage with your Presence;
‘And club your Woodcocks, or your Pheasants:
‘I'll find good Ale—and brisk Champaign,
‘To put us in a merry Vein.’
All made their Honours, and drew near.
‘My Lord,’ (says Chryses) ‘see who's there!
‘Thanks to your Friendship in the Affair.
‘The Chief asks Pardon; and has sent you
‘Some Wild-fowl, which I here present you.
‘Since he has made Amends, at last,
‘I beg, forget all Quarrels past.
‘But, as it's almost Time to think
‘Of laying in some Meat, and Drink,
‘Honour my Cottage with your Presence;
‘And club your Woodcocks, or your Pheasants:
‘I'll find good Ale—and brisk Champaign,
‘To put us in a merry Vein.’
259
The Peer, who, now, was quite content,
Agreed to all—and in they went.
Agreed to all—and in they went.
[Those Ages scorn'd all useless Aids:
They kept no Cooks, nor Waiting-maids;
But, like the industrious French, could dress,
Either their Mistress, or their Mess.]
They kept no Cooks, nor Waiting-maids;
But, like the industrious French, could dress,
Either their Mistress, or their Mess.]
Our Folks, to shew they were no Sluts,
Pick'd clean the Fowl, and drew the Guts:
Then, made the self-felonious Bill
Transfix the Sides, with cruel Skill:
Next, rak'd the Fire, and made it blaze,
To do their Work with greater Ease.
Fresh-butter-basting shew'd their Taste;
For, Drippings speak a stingy Beast.
When all was done, they serv'd their Roast
Upon a crisp, well butter'd Toast.
Pick'd clean the Fowl, and drew the Guts:
Then, made the self-felonious Bill
Transfix the Sides, with cruel Skill:
Next, rak'd the Fire, and made it blaze,
To do their Work with greater Ease.
Fresh-butter-basting shew'd their Taste;
For, Drippings speak a stingy Beast.
When all was done, they serv'd their Roast
Upon a crisp, well butter'd Toast.
260
And now, they all began to eat;
None could complain for Want of Meat:
They had no grudging, snarling Words;
For each Man got a Leash of Birds.
But, when the Rage of Hunger ceas'd,
Champaign, in Plenty, crown'd the Feast;
And the brisk Peer, all th'Evening long,
Regal'd them with some merry Song.
None could complain for Want of Meat:
They had no grudging, snarling Words;
For each Man got a Leash of Birds.
But, when the Rage of Hunger ceas'd,
Champaign, in Plenty, crown'd the Feast;
And the brisk Peer, all th'Evening long,
Regal'd them with some merry Song.
To Bed they went, and slept as sound,
As if their Wives were under Ground.
Then, up they got, by Peep of Day:
(Miss had not Time to get their Tea)
Ulysses, and his Score of Men,
Made Haste towards the Camp again:
They march'd as nimbly as the Wind;
The creeking Cart lagg'd far behind.
As if their Wives were under Ground.
Then, up they got, by Peep of Day:
(Miss had not Time to get their Tea)
Ulysses, and his Score of Men,
Made Haste towards the Camp again:
They march'd as nimbly as the Wind;
The creeking Cart lagg'd far behind.
When they had reach'd the wish'd Parade,
Our Adjutant, who knew his Trade,
Made them, first, poise their Arms; then, rest 'em;
Then—I forget—and so, dismiss'd 'em.
Away they skipp'd, with nimble Courage,
To meet their Trulls, and dress their Porrage.
Our Adjutant, who knew his Trade,
Made them, first, poise their Arms; then, rest 'em;
Then—I forget—and so, dismiss'd 'em.
Away they skipp'd, with nimble Courage,
To meet their Trulls, and dress their Porrage.
Meantime, the Knight, on Vengeance bent,
Continu'd raving in his Tent;
And neither would unsheath his Sword,
Nor go to any Council-board.
But, Nurse (who ask'd when Jove should come,
As often as a City-Drum)
Found him, at last, cock'd on a Jar,
Smoaking, alone, within the Bar.
‘Gossip’ (said she, and clapp'd his Back)
‘I know who would have gone to Wreck,
‘Had not I call'd in Irish Paddy,
‘To take the Part of honest Daddy.
‘You know 'tis true: So, let me see;
‘Will you do one Thing, now, for me?
‘I only beg you'll sell no Brandy
‘To any Grecian Jack-a-dandy;
‘That, when the Trojans make them run,
‘The Greeks may feel they want my Son:
‘For, they have robb'd him of his Right;
‘And he's resolv'd he will not fight.’
Continu'd raving in his Tent;
And neither would unsheath his Sword,
Nor go to any Council-board.
But, Nurse (who ask'd when Jove should come,
As often as a City-Drum)
Found him, at last, cock'd on a Jar,
Smoaking, alone, within the Bar.
261
‘I know who would have gone to Wreck,
‘Had not I call'd in Irish Paddy,
‘To take the Part of honest Daddy.
‘You know 'tis true: So, let me see;
‘Will you do one Thing, now, for me?
‘I only beg you'll sell no Brandy
‘To any Grecian Jack-a-dandy;
‘That, when the Trojans make them run,
‘The Greeks may feel they want my Son:
‘For, they have robb'd him of his Right;
‘And he's resolv'd he will not fight.’
At this, old, stingy Jove look'd gruff,
And only answer'd with a—Puff.
But, Nurse (resolv'd to serve her Son)
Began, anew, to play the Dun—
‘Will you? or, will you not? (said she)
‘You may speak out—your Will is free.
‘Tell me, at once, I'm old and crazy—
‘If that's the Case—I will not tease you.’
And only answer'd with a—Puff.
But, Nurse (resolv'd to serve her Son)
Began, anew, to play the Dun—
‘Will you? or, will you not? (said she)
‘You may speak out—your Will is free.
‘Tell me, at once, I'm old and crazy—
‘If that's the Case—I will not tease you.’
‘That's not the Point;’ (old Jove replied)
‘You're still as blooming as a Bride:
‘But here will be most plaguy Work,
‘When Juno scolds me like a Turk;
‘For, many Times, she fumes and frets,
‘And swears the Trojans are my Pets:
‘But, slink away; for, if she sees you,
‘I'd lay a Pot of Ale, she'll feaze you.
‘I'll do your Work—you need not fear—
‘The Greeks shall get no Brandy here.’
‘You're still as blooming as a Bride:
‘But here will be most plaguy Work,
‘When Juno scolds me like a Turk;
‘For, many Times, she fumes and frets,
‘And swears the Trojans are my Pets:
‘But, slink away; for, if she sees you,
‘I'd lay a Pot of Ale, she'll feaze you.
‘I'll do your Work—you need not fear—
‘The Greeks shall get no Brandy here.’
262
With that, he let a monstrous Crack,
Which shook the Shelves behind his Back.
Nurse started: But the humourous Wag
Laugh'd like to split, and told the Hag—
‘It is my Way, when I've a Mind
‘To shew my Friends I will be kind;
‘I, thus, proclaim their Business done,
‘By firing off a roaring Gun.’
Which shook the Shelves behind his Back.
Nurse started: But the humourous Wag
Laugh'd like to split, and told the Hag—
‘It is my Way, when I've a Mind
‘To shew my Friends I will be kind;
‘I, thus, proclaim their Business done,
‘By firing off a roaring Gun.’
Best Friends must part; and so did they:
Nurse scuttled off, to sell her Whey;
Jove to his Kitchen, and his Chair,
To take his Nap, as usual there.
When he came in, his female Cattle,
At once, left off their Tittle-tattle;
Dropping him Curt'sies a la mode,
Although they loath'd him like a Toad:
For, Tyrants, of whatever Sort,
Though curs'd, are worshipp'd by their Court.
Nurse scuttled off, to sell her Whey;
Jove to his Kitchen, and his Chair,
To take his Nap, as usual there.
When he came in, his female Cattle,
At once, left off their Tittle-tattle;
Dropping him Curt'sies a la mode,
Although they loath'd him like a Toad:
For, Tyrants, of whatever Sort,
Though curs'd, are worshipp'd by their Court.
But, Juno, who had smell'd a Rat,
Began her matrimonial Chat—
‘You cunning Man! though you're so sly,
‘I guess who has been here—and why:
‘You're hiding every Thing from me;
‘And think I have not Eyes to see.’
Began her matrimonial Chat—
‘You cunning Man! though you're so sly,
‘I guess who has been here—and why:
‘You're hiding every Thing from me;
‘And think I have not Eyes to see.’
To this, Jove answer'd, in an Heat—
‘Madam, forbear your idle Prate.
‘'Tis not the Province of a Wife,
‘To know all Incidents in Life.
‘You always shall be first, to hear
‘Such Things as come within your Sphere:
‘But, when I've Secrets of my own—
‘'Fore George—you must let those alone.’
‘Madam, forbear your idle Prate.
263
‘To know all Incidents in Life.
‘You always shall be first, to hear
‘Such Things as come within your Sphere:
‘But, when I've Secrets of my own—
‘'Fore George—you must let those alone.’
This made the Dame grow somewhat furious.
‘You know’ (said she) ‘I am not curious:
‘But, now, I have just Cause to fear
‘That dirty Trollop's coming here.
‘I fancy something's to be done
‘In Favour of her saucy Son.’
‘You know’ (said she) ‘I am not curious:
‘But, now, I have just Cause to fear
‘That dirty Trollop's coming here.
‘I fancy something's to be done
‘In Favour of her saucy Son.’
If Jove was out of Sort before,
This Answer vex'd him ten Times more.
‘You Wretch!’ (said he) ‘your artful Cant
‘Shan't make me tell you what you want;
‘The more your Noise disturbs my Peace,
‘I'll loath the more that pimpled Face:
‘Whatever was the last Result—
‘Learn what this means— Le Roy le vult.
‘If you perplex me with your Stuff—
‘All that are here shan't save your Buff.’
This Answer vex'd him ten Times more.
‘You Wretch!’ (said he) ‘your artful Cant
‘Shan't make me tell you what you want;
‘The more your Noise disturbs my Peace,
‘I'll loath the more that pimpled Face:
‘Whatever was the last Result—
‘Learn what this means— Le Roy le vult.
‘If you perplex me with your Stuff—
‘All that are here shan't save your Buff.’
These Words had such Effect on Madam,
She never trembled so, since Adam:
And every Wench about the House
Became as silent as a Mouse.
She never trembled so, since Adam:
And every Wench about the House
Became as silent as a Mouse.
264
[Juno, when young, had made a By-blow,
To whom Jove often gave a dry Blow.
He was a shapeless, limping Creature;
A meer Burlesque on human Nature:
Besides, as he was squat, and bulky,
The Filles de Joye nicknam'd him Hulky.
But, then, his Head-piece was so good,
You might employ him as you wou'd:
For, though he never learn'd his Grammar,
No Smith outdid him at the Hammer;
Or clinch'd, with more commanding Art,
A stubborn Nail that chanc'd to start.]
To whom Jove often gave a dry Blow.
He was a shapeless, limping Creature;
A meer Burlesque on human Nature:
Besides, as he was squat, and bulky,
The Filles de Joye nicknam'd him Hulky.
But, then, his Head-piece was so good,
You might employ him as you wou'd:
For, though he never learn'd his Grammar,
No Smith outdid him at the Hammer;
Or clinch'd, with more commanding Art,
A stubborn Nail that chanc'd to start.]
This Lad of Wax was standing by,
When Jove's big Words made Juno cry:
And so, he rais'd his heavy Br---ch,
To utter this consoling Speech—
When Jove's big Words made Juno cry:
And so, he rais'd his heavy Br---ch,
To utter this consoling Speech—
‘I can't abide these thundering Quarrels:
‘They'll taint our Beef, and sour our Barrels.
‘Hard! that we cannot live in Peace,
‘For Jacks of Troy, and Jills of Greece.
‘Mother, there's no one can disown,
‘You've a rare Noddle of your own:
‘Yet, Hulky, though an arrant Dunce,
‘May give you good Advice, for once.
‘You must resolve to sooth and coax—
‘'Tis th'only Way with angry Folks—
‘For, if you raise my Father's Fury—
‘He'll thresh us round—I can assure you:
‘But, if you'll promise to be good,
‘He'll straight throw off this surly Mood.’
‘They'll taint our Beef, and sour our Barrels.
‘Hard! that we cannot live in Peace,
‘For Jacks of Troy, and Jills of Greece.
‘Mother, there's no one can disown,
‘You've a rare Noddle of your own:
‘Yet, Hulky, though an arrant Dunce,
‘May give you good Advice, for once.
‘You must resolve to sooth and coax—
‘'Tis th'only Way with angry Folks—
‘For, if you raise my Father's Fury—
‘He'll thresh us round—I can assure you:
‘But, if you'll promise to be good,
‘He'll straight throw off this surly Mood.’
265
Then, springing, with a limping Grace,
He thrust a Tankard to her Face—
‘Here; drink,’ (said he) ‘and cool your Liver—
‘I vow these Wranglings make me shiver.
‘To see you tann'd would break my Heart;
‘Nor durst poor Hulky take your Part:
‘For, I remember, on a Time,
‘When I had done some petty Crime,
‘Jove pitch'd me forward from the Stair-head;
‘And, down I sows'd upon my bare Head:
‘The Waiter chanc'd to stand below,
‘And broke the Violence of the Blow;
‘Or else, I'm sure, the dreadful Fall
‘Must have crack'd Neck, and Skull, and all.’
He thrust a Tankard to her Face—
‘Here; drink,’ (said he) ‘and cool your Liver—
‘I vow these Wranglings make me shiver.
‘To see you tann'd would break my Heart;
‘Nor durst poor Hulky take your Part:
‘For, I remember, on a Time,
‘When I had done some petty Crime,
‘Jove pitch'd me forward from the Stair-head;
‘And, down I sows'd upon my bare Head:
‘The Waiter chanc'd to stand below,
‘And broke the Violence of the Blow;
‘Or else, I'm sure, the dreadful Fall
‘Must have crack'd Neck, and Skull, and all.’
Juno, though vex'd, could not forbear
To smile at her sweet Son and Heir:
And, as she found the Tankard full,
She ventur'd at an hearty Pull.
To smile at her sweet Son and Heir:
And, as she found the Tankard full,
She ventur'd at an hearty Pull.
This done, he gave it to the Rest,
Who all were bursting at the Jest:
For, once an Age, you'd hardly see
So choice a Ganymede as he.
Who all were bursting at the Jest:
For, once an Age, you'd hardly see
So choice a Ganymede as he.
This lucky Hit made Jove so merry,
He needs must treat them all with Sherry.
An Harper coming in, by Chance,
The greater Part began to dance:
While others, who sat still by Choice,
Gave Jove a Sample of their Voice:
'Till he, and Juno, being bowzy,
Yawn'd, Time about, and grew quite drowsy.
He needs must treat them all with Sherry.
An Harper coming in, by Chance,
The greater Part began to dance:
While others, who sat still by Choice,
Gave Jove a Sample of their Voice:
266
Yawn'd, Time about, and grew quite drowsy.
They had a Truckle-Bed above,
Which Hulky oft repair'd for Jove:
Thither the Couple went to snore,
Where, many Times, they snor'd before:
But, first, like old and skilful Sleepers,
They clos'd the Curtains of their Peepers.
Which Hulky oft repair'd for Jove:
Thither the Couple went to snore,
Where, many Times, they snor'd before:
But, first, like old and skilful Sleepers,
They clos'd the Curtains of their Peepers.
By some called Still-Powder. According to the Account of the gold-making Alchymists of former Days, it had all the Properties of Gun-Powder, excepting that of causing a loud Explosion. As the Chymists of this Age acknowledge that they have not the Recipe for preparing it, it is much to be lamented that Pancirollus maketh no Mention of it, in his most useful and most comfortable Treatise. —De Artibus perditis.
I have designedly omitted the rumbling Catalogue of ancient Heroes, mentioned by Nestor, in this Place; lest a long String of such Hurlothrumbo-Names should wound the delicate Ears of gentle Beaux.
A certain Half-Critic has been pleased to start the following Objection against this Passage. How could Jove's refusing Brandy to the Greeks be attended with any ill Consequences? Might not they supply themselves elsewhere? Although I am no great Advocate for my Homer, I think myself obliged in Honour to vindicate him, where he is in the right. The Reader must know from me, that there was not Brandy, or any other Kind of Spirits, in all the Country of Phrygia, during the Space of more than seven Years, before and after the Siege of Troy, excepting what Jove had in his Cellar. I could prove this by numerous Quotations from ancient Authors: But, as I am not fond of making a Shew of Learning of that Sort, I shall only mention two Antiquaries, whose Authorities have never been called in Question. The first is, Pancratius Vollenhove: Histor. Memorab. Gest. ad Trojam. The other is, Cornelius Van Kinschot: Dissert. in Antiq. Asiatic. Cap. xii, de Cibo, et Potu. The Reader may consult either of them, at his Leisure.
This sheweth that, either, my Homer was unacquainted with the genteel Method of dressing Woodcocks, with their Train; or else, that he looked upon that Fashion, as a very sluttish, and nauseous Kind of Delicacy.
A single Toast might easily stand under nine Birds at most (for it doth not appear that Miss got Share of them) because they made Use of Griddle-Cakes, in those Days: And, it is to be supposed, that, when they wanted to make a large Toast, they split the Cake in two, as Cambro-Britons do a Cheese, for toasting, when they have a Mind to regale their Company on Saint Taffy's Day. Nothing is more evident, than that Virgil alludeth to Griddle-Bread, in these Words—
------ ebeu! Mensas consumimus ------Therefore, I am of Opinion that they should be rendered thus—
Heyday! my Boys: Our Stomachs, strong and able,Conquer a Cake as large as any Table.
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