The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
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THE FORTUNE-TELLER.
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 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
153
THE FORTUNE-TELLER.
A GYPSY TALE.
Lubin and Kate, as gossips tell,
Were lovers many a day;
Lubin the damsel lov'd so well,
That folks pretend to say,
The silly, simple, doting lad
Was little less than loving mad:
A malady not known of late—
Among the little-loving great!
Were lovers many a day;
Lubin the damsel lov'd so well,
That folks pretend to say,
The silly, simple, doting lad
Was little less than loving mad:
A malady not known of late—
Among the little-loving great!
Kate lik'd the youth; but woman-kind
Are sometimes giv'n to range.
And oft the giddy sex, we find,
(They know not why)
When most they promise, soonest change,
And still for conquest sigh:
So 'twas with Kate; she, ever roving,
Was never fix'd, though always loving!
Are sometimes giv'n to range.
And oft the giddy sex, we find,
(They know not why)
When most they promise, soonest change,
And still for conquest sigh:
So 'twas with Kate; she, ever roving,
Was never fix'd, though always loving!
154
Stephen was Lubin's rival; he
A rustic libertine was known;
And many a blushing, simple she
The rogue had left—to sigh alone!
Kate car'd but little for the rover,
Yet she resolv'd to have her way;
For Stephen was the village lover,
And women sigh for sov'reign sway:
And he, who has been known to ruin,—
Is always sought, and always wooing.
A rustic libertine was known;
And many a blushing, simple she
The rogue had left—to sigh alone!
Kate car'd but little for the rover,
Yet she resolv'd to have her way;
For Stephen was the village lover,
And women sigh for sov'reign sway:
And he, who has been known to ruin,—
Is always sought, and always wooing.
Stephen had long in secret sigh'd;
And Stephen never was deny'd.
Now, Lubin was a modest swain,
And therefore treated with disdain:
For, it is said, in love and war,—
The boldest most successful are!
And Stephen never was deny'd.
Now, Lubin was a modest swain,
And therefore treated with disdain:
For, it is said, in love and war,—
The boldest most successful are!
Vows were to him but fairy things,
Borne on capricious fancy's wings;
And promises but phantoms airy,
Which falsehood form'd to cheat th' unwary;
For still deception was his trade:
And though his traffic well was known,
Still ev'ry trophy was his own,
Which the proud victor, love, display'd.
In short, this Stephen was the bane
Of ev'ry maid,—and ev'ry swain!
Borne on capricious fancy's wings;
And promises but phantoms airy,
Which falsehood form'd to cheat th' unwary;
For still deception was his trade:
And though his traffic well was known,
Still ev'ry trophy was his own,
Which the proud victor, love, display'd.
In short, this Stephen was the bane
Of ev'ry maid,—and ev'ry swain!
155
Kate had too often play'd the fool,
And now, at length, was caught;
For she, who had been pleas'd to rule,
Was now, poor maiden, taught!
And Stephen rul'd with boundless sway,
The rustic tyrant of his day.
And now, at length, was caught;
For she, who had been pleas'd to rule,
Was now, poor maiden, taught!
And Stephen rul'd with boundless sway,
The rustic tyrant of his day.
Lubin had giv'n inconstant Kate
Ten pounds, to buy her wedding gear:
And now, 'tis said, tho' somewhat late,
He thought his bargain rather dear.
For, lo! the day before the pair
Had fix'd the marriage chain to wear,
A gypsy gang, a wand'ring set,
In a lone wood young Lubin met.
All round him press with canting tale,
And, in a jargon well design'd
To cheat the unsuspecting mind,
His list'ning ears assail.
Ten pounds, to buy her wedding gear:
And now, 'tis said, tho' somewhat late,
He thought his bargain rather dear.
For, lo! the day before the pair
Had fix'd the marriage chain to wear,
A gypsy gang, a wand'ring set,
In a lone wood young Lubin met.
All round him press with canting tale,
And, in a jargon well design'd
To cheat the unsuspecting mind,
His list'ning ears assail.
Some promis'd riches; others swore
He should by women be ador'd;
And never sad, and never poor—
Live like a squire, or lord;
Do what he pleas'd, and ne'er be brought
To shame—for what he did, or thought;
Seduce men's wives and daughters fair,
Spend wealth, while others toil'd in vain.
And scoff at honesty, and swear,—
And scoff, and trick, and swear again!
He should by women be ador'd;
And never sad, and never poor—
Live like a squire, or lord;
Do what he pleas'd, and ne'er be brought
To shame—for what he did, or thought;
Seduce men's wives and daughters fair,
Spend wealth, while others toil'd in vain.
156
And scoff, and trick, and swear again!
One roguish girl, with sparkling eyes,
To win the handsome Lubin tries:
She smil'd, and by her speaking glance,
Enthrall'd him in a wond'ring trance.
He thought her lovelier far than Kate,
And wish'd that she had been his mate;
For when the fancy is on wing,
Variety's a dangerous thing:
And fancy, when she learns to stray,
Will seldom keep the beaten way.
The gypsy girl, with speaking eyes,
Observ'd her pupil's fond surprise;
She begg'd that he her hand would cross
With sixpence; and that he should know
His future scene of gain and loss,
His weal and woe.—
To win the handsome Lubin tries:
She smil'd, and by her speaking glance,
Enthrall'd him in a wond'ring trance.
He thought her lovelier far than Kate,
And wish'd that she had been his mate;
For when the fancy is on wing,
Variety's a dangerous thing:
And fancy, when she learns to stray,
Will seldom keep the beaten way.
The gypsy girl, with speaking eyes,
Observ'd her pupil's fond surprise;
She begg'd that he her hand would cross
With sixpence; and that he should know
His future scene of gain and loss,
His weal and woe.—
Lubin complies. And straight he hears
“That he had many long, long years;
“That he a maid inconstant loves,
“Who to another slily roves;
“That a dark man his bane will be—
“And poison his domestic hours;
“While a fair woman, treach'rously,
“Will dress his brow—with thorns and flow'rs!”
“That he had many long, long years;
“That he a maid inconstant loves,
“Who to another slily roves;
“That a dark man his bane will be—
“And poison his domestic hours;
“While a fair woman, treach'rously,
“Will dress his brow—with thorns and flow'rs!”
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It happen'd, to confirm his care—
Stephen was dark,—and Kate was fair!
Nay more, that “home his bride would bring
“A little, alien, prattling thing
“In just six moons!” Poor Lubin hears
All that confirms his jealous fears;
Perplex'd and frantic, what to do
The cheated lover scarcely knew.
He flies to Kate, and straight he tells
The wonder that in magic dwells!
Speaks of the fortune-telling crew,
And how all things the vagrants knew.
Kate hears; and soon determines, she
Will know her future destiny.
Stephen was dark,—and Kate was fair!
Nay more, that “home his bride would bring
“A little, alien, prattling thing
“In just six moons!” Poor Lubin hears
All that confirms his jealous fears;
Perplex'd and frantic, what to do
The cheated lover scarcely knew.
He flies to Kate, and straight he tells
The wonder that in magic dwells!
Speaks of the fortune-telling crew,
And how all things the vagrants knew.
Kate hears; and soon determines, she
Will know her future destiny.
Swift to the wood she hies, tho' late,
To read the tablet of her fate.
The moon its crystal beam scarce shew'd
Upon the darkly shadow'd road;
The hedge-row was the feasting-place
Where, round a little blazing wood,
The wand'ring, dingy, gabbling race
Crowded in merry mood.
And now she loiter'd near the scene,
Now peep'd the hazel copse between,
Fearful that Lubin might be near,
The story of her fate to hear.—
To read the tablet of her fate.
The moon its crystal beam scarce shew'd
Upon the darkly shadow'd road;
The hedge-row was the feasting-place
Where, round a little blazing wood,
The wand'ring, dingy, gabbling race
Crowded in merry mood.
And now she loiter'd near the scene,
Now peep'd the hazel copse between,
Fearful that Lubin might be near,
The story of her fate to hear.—
158
She saw the feasting circle gay
By the stol'n faggot's yellow light;
She heard them, as, in sportive play,
They cheer'd the sullen gloom of night.
Nor was sly Kate by all unseen,
Peeping the hazel copse between!
By the stol'n faggot's yellow light;
She heard them, as, in sportive play,
They cheer'd the sullen gloom of night.
Nor was sly Kate by all unseen,
Peeping the hazel copse between!
And now across the thicket side
A tatter'd, skulking youth she spied;
He beckon'd her along, and soon,
Hid safely from the prying moon,
His hand with silver thrice she crosses—
“Tell me,” said she, “my gains and losses!”
A tatter'd, skulking youth she spied;
He beckon'd her along, and soon,
Hid safely from the prying moon,
His hand with silver thrice she crosses—
“Tell me,” said she, “my gains and losses!”
“You gain a fool,” the youth replies,
“You lose a lover too.”
The false one blushes deep, and sighs,
For well the truth she knew!
“You gave to Stephen vows; nay more,
“You gave him favours rare:
“And Lubin is condemn'd to share
“What many others shar'd before!
“A false, capricious, guilty heart,
“Made up of folly, vice, and art,
“Which only takes a wedded mate
“To brand with shame an husband's fate.”
“You lose a lover too.”
The false one blushes deep, and sighs,
For well the truth she knew!
“You gave to Stephen vows; nay more,
“You gave him favours rare:
“And Lubin is condemn'd to share
“What many others shar'd before!
“A false, capricious, guilty heart,
“Made up of folly, vice, and art,
“Which only takes a wedded mate
“To brand with shame an husband's fate.”
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“Hush! hush!” cried Kate, “for heav'n's sake, be
“As secret as the grave!
“For Lubin means to marry me;
“And if you will not me betray,
“I for your silence well will pay;
“Five pounds this moment you shall have.”—
“I will have ten!” the gypsy cries:—
The fearful, trembling girl complies.
But what was her dismay, to find
That Lubin was the gypsy bold,
The cunning, fortune-telling hind
Who had the artful story told—
Who thus was cur'd of jealous pain,—
And got his ten pounds back again!
“As secret as the grave!
“For Lubin means to marry me;
“And if you will not me betray,
“I for your silence well will pay;
“Five pounds this moment you shall have.”—
“I will have ten!” the gypsy cries:—
The fearful, trembling girl complies.
But what was her dismay, to find
That Lubin was the gypsy bold,
The cunning, fortune-telling hind
Who had the artful story told—
Who thus was cur'd of jealous pain,—
And got his ten pounds back again!
Thus fortune pays the lover bold!
But, gentle maids, should fate
Have any secret yet untold,—
Remember simple Kate!
But, gentle maids, should fate
Have any secret yet untold,—
Remember simple Kate!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |