 | The wits paraphras'd |  |
65
PARIS TO HELEN.
The ARGUMENT.
Paris having Sail'd to Sparta for the obtaining of Helen, whom Venus had promised him as the reward of adjudging the prize of Beauty to her, was nobly there entertain'd by Menelaus, Helen's Husband; but he being Call'd away to Crete, to take possession of, which was left him by his Grandfather-Atreus, commends his guest to the care of his Wife. In his absence Paris Courts her and writes to her the following Epistle.
To thee my Duck, and pretty Sweeting,
Thy Paris sends all health and greeting;
Tho' he (unless you be so kind)
Have for himself left none behind.
Thy Paris sends all health and greeting;
Tho' he (unless you be so kind)
Have for himself left none behind.
Shall I then speak? Or is't your pleasure
I stay till we have better Leasure,
When fear of folks may not disturb us,
And we may do it to the porpose?
But if you'd needs my Pipes be draining,
And by my Mumping know my meaning;
In short, I love, you pretty Brat you,
And have a Months mind to be at you.
Forgive me, Nell, I am so blunt;
Our Betters have before us don't.
I must confess I'm full of grief,
And hope you'l give your Slave Relief.
I stay till we have better Leasure,
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And we may do it to the porpose?
But if you'd needs my Pipes be draining,
And by my Mumping know my meaning;
In short, I love, you pretty Brat you,
And have a Months mind to be at you.
Forgive me, Nell, I am so blunt;
Our Betters have before us don't.
I must confess I'm full of grief,
And hope you'l give your Slave Relief.
How am I tickled with Conceit,
To think these Lines shall Kiss your feet?
I hope, if they creep in your favor,
You'l shew my self no worse Behavor.
And sure those hopes can't be betray'd,
If Venus has not play'd the Jade:
She promis'd me for Service don her,
You shou'd be Mine upon her Honor;
And for that cause I crost the Kennell,
To come here fawning like a Spaniell:
I brought my Passions here, not found 'em;
(Wou'd by the way I cou'd have drown'd 'em.)
I come but for my Due, beshrew you,
You were my own before I knew you;
And e're thy pretty Pigsneys I
Beheld, I had thee in my Eye.
No marvile then at such a widness,
Your arrows thus did gau'e my Kidneys:
'T was so decreed; and less you glory
In your own Bane, observe this story.
To think these Lines shall Kiss your feet?
I hope, if they creep in your favor,
You'l shew my self no worse Behavor.
And sure those hopes can't be betray'd,
If Venus has not play'd the Jade:
She promis'd me for Service don her,
You shou'd be Mine upon her Honor;
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To come here fawning like a Spaniell:
I brought my Passions here, not found 'em;
(Wou'd by the way I cou'd have drown'd 'em.)
I come but for my Due, beshrew you,
You were my own before I knew you;
And e're thy pretty Pigsneys I
Beheld, I had thee in my Eye.
No marvile then at such a widness,
Your arrows thus did gau'e my Kidneys:
'T was so decreed; and less you glory
In your own Bane, observe this story.
I was predistin'd for my Nelly
Ere I was born, in Mothers Belly;
Who dream't she did the Baby dandle,
Deliver'd of a farthing Candle.
Ere I was born, in Mothers Belly;
Who dream't she did the Baby dandle,
Deliver'd of a farthing Candle.
She scar'd, the Baggage at the Vision,
To Conjurer hyes with Expedition:
They said with Fire I Troy shou'd ruin;
But sure it must be with my woing.
For fear, they sent me to the Boggs,
To keep the Sheep, and tend the Hogs:
A proper, handsom, sturdy tall Fool;
And well they knew I was no small Fool.
To Conjurer hyes with Expedition:
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But sure it must be with my woing.
For fear, they sent me to the Boggs,
To keep the Sheep, and tend the Hogs:
A proper, handsom, sturdy tall Fool;
And well they knew I was no small Fool.
In Ida's Copse there is a Thicket,
And there we often us'd to nick it;
Where there was neither Cat nor Mouss,
Nor pasture for to graze a Louse.
Leaning against a stump of Bryer,
I saw one posting through the Mire.
Such noyse the very place I stood in
Shiver'd for feare, like Devon pudding.
When straight I knew by 's Badg of mortar,
Old Jove had sent me his own Porter.
Led in his hand the Pimp had brought me
Three bouncing Wenches, and besought me
I shou'd decide the strife, and stop all
Their Mouths that water'd for an Apple.
He spake, and flew up in a Machin,
According to the modern fashion.
And there we often us'd to nick it;
Where there was neither Cat nor Mouss,
Nor pasture for to graze a Louse.
Leaning against a stump of Bryer,
I saw one posting through the Mire.
Such noyse the very place I stood in
Shiver'd for feare, like Devon pudding.
When straight I knew by 's Badg of mortar,
Old Jove had sent me his own Porter.
Led in his hand the Pimp had brought me
Three bouncing Wenches, and besought me
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Their Mouths that water'd for an Apple.
He spake, and flew up in a Machin,
According to the modern fashion.
When I perceiv'd what was to do,
I grew so proud there was no ho.
I view'd them round, Each in their turn,
Naked and bald as they were born.
They each deserv'd, while I did fall
Horn-mad I cou'd not please them all.
But there was one, my Mouth did water
Above the rest for to be at her.
And who think you it was? I gave it
To Venus, as the Devill wou'd have it.
Nor did I do it at her own Quest,
'T was for your sake I gave the Conquest:
Who for Reward assur'd me after,
I should Enjoy your Mothers Daughter.
I grew so proud there was no ho.
I view'd them round, Each in their turn,
Naked and bald as they were born.
They each deserv'd, while I did fall
Horn-mad I cou'd not please them all.
But there was one, my Mouth did water
Above the rest for to be at her.
And who think you it was? I gave it
To Venus, as the Devill wou'd have it.
Nor did I do it at her own Quest,
'T was for your sake I gave the Conquest:
Who for Reward assur'd me after,
I should Enjoy your Mothers Daughter.
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Mean while, I'm coopt amongst the Eagles,
And own'd as one of Priams Beagles:
The shepheards threw their Crooks away,
And all the Court kept Holiday.
Stark mad for me run all the wenches
As I for thee have lost my senses;
All the long night I melt like Jelly,
And dreamt of nothing but my Nelly.
What Doings then beneath the Cadow,
When I'm so ravisht with your shadow?
Sure I must burn when I come nigher,
That Scorcht at such remote a Fire.
And own'd as one of Priams Beagles:
The shepheards threw their Crooks away,
And all the Court kept Holiday.
Stark mad for me run all the wenches
As I for thee have lost my senses;
All the long night I melt like Jelly,
And dreamt of nothing but my Nelly.
What Doings then beneath the Cadow,
When I'm so ravisht with your shadow?
Sure I must burn when I come nigher,
That Scorcht at such remote a Fire.
And now my passion growing stronger,
I had no power to stay longer:
In spight of fortune, wind, and weather,
Father, and friends, and all together,
I lanch out, and away I come,
To have a fillip, at thy Bum.
I had no power to stay longer:
In spight of fortune, wind, and weather,
Father, and friends, and all together,
I lanch out, and away I come,
To have a fillip, at thy Bum.
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Fortune that brought me to your shore,
Did land me in a lucky hour:
Your Husband, goodman, did contrive all
Obliging ways to grace his Rivall;
And I, to quite his Kindness, took hold
Of all swift means t' oblige the Cuckold.
Since I for thee my own dear Nell come,
Will you not also bid me wellcome?
He kindly took me home, and stor'd me
With all respect he cou'd afford me;
Show'd me the Town, the Spartan sages,
The Puppets, Drolls, the stewes and stages:
But nothing pleas'd my Eye or Belly,
But the Enjoyment of my Nelly.
The sight of thee reviv'd my heart;
The rest I valu'd not a fart.
Such are thy Charms, did thou but send
When the three Blousses did contend,
Thou out of joynt had put her Nose,
I shou'd a Shit in Venus hose.
Thou shou'd have got the golden Ball
For thy sweet sake I'de bawkt 'em all.
Thy Beauty bears away the Bell,
And all the Parish Rings of Nell.
It made indeed a grievous Clutter
And does exceed what fame did utter.
Thou art so pretty, neat, and dapper,
I cannot blame the old Kidnaper
Make choice of thee above a Dutches,
And 'gross thee wholy in his Clutches.
But simply then to let you go!
For shame I wou'd not serve thee so,
Nor shou'd thou scape my Claws, tis I
Had got one Touch at G'ammar hi.
Did land me in a lucky hour:
Your Husband, goodman, did contrive all
Obliging ways to grace his Rivall;
And I, to quite his Kindness, took hold
Of all swift means t' oblige the Cuckold.
Since I for thee my own dear Nell come,
Will you not also bid me wellcome?
He kindly took me home, and stor'd me
With all respect he cou'd afford me;
Show'd me the Town, the Spartan sages,
The Puppets, Drolls, the stewes and stages:
But nothing pleas'd my Eye or Belly,
But the Enjoyment of my Nelly.
The sight of thee reviv'd my heart;
The rest I valu'd not a fart.
Such are thy Charms, did thou but send
When the three Blousses did contend,
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I shou'd a Shit in Venus hose.
Thou shou'd have got the golden Ball
For thy sweet sake I'de bawkt 'em all.
Thy Beauty bears away the Bell,
And all the Parish Rings of Nell.
It made indeed a grievous Clutter
And does exceed what fame did utter.
Thou art so pretty, neat, and dapper,
I cannot blame the old Kidnaper
Make choice of thee above a Dutches,
And 'gross thee wholy in his Clutches.
But simply then to let you go!
For shame I wou'd not serve thee so,
Nor shou'd thou scape my Claws, tis I
Had got one Touch at G'ammar hi.
Come then, my wench, and I will show
What mighty wonders I can do:
Let us, since thou hast got my heart,
Joyn Giblets once, and never part.
I might have had a Crown and Scepter
From Juno, if I wou'd a leapt her.
I might have don with Pallas too,
But I refus'd 'em all for you.
Nor am I such a slippery Eel,
To rue my choice; I'm true as steel.
Do thou bear up as true to me,
As I 'bove all do value thee.
Nor need you, tho' you are allowd
A little handsom, be so proud:
I am, for all your petty pelf,
As well descended as your self.
My Father has bin twice Church-warden,
And has as large a house and Garden:
There you shall see the antient Riddles
How Troy was built with harps and fiddles:
The stately Courts and houses grow
With yellow Roofs of Golden straw:
Wagons, and Carts, and spacious pallets,
And crowds of people singing Ballats:
Whole troops of Dames in Trojan shape,
And wenches shining in their Crape;
Which you'l prefer before the shabby
And tawdry vest of Spartan tabby;
And must confess one Crate will tillage
More furrows there than all your Village.
What mighty wonders I can do:
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Joyn Giblets once, and never part.
I might have had a Crown and Scepter
From Juno, if I wou'd a leapt her.
I might have don with Pallas too,
But I refus'd 'em all for you.
Nor am I such a slippery Eel,
To rue my choice; I'm true as steel.
Do thou bear up as true to me,
As I 'bove all do value thee.
Nor need you, tho' you are allowd
A little handsom, be so proud:
I am, for all your petty pelf,
As well descended as your self.
My Father has bin twice Church-warden,
And has as large a house and Garden:
There you shall see the antient Riddles
How Troy was built with harps and fiddles:
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With yellow Roofs of Golden straw:
Wagons, and Carts, and spacious pallets,
And crowds of people singing Ballats:
Whole troops of Dames in Trojan shape,
And wenches shining in their Crape;
Which you'l prefer before the shabby
And tawdry vest of Spartan tabby;
And must confess one Crate will tillage
More furrows there than all your Village.
I do not flant you with miscarrage,
Or that I would your house disparage:
But you that shou'd be deckt at least
With all the splendor of the East,
Shou'd not sit ragged, and condole
A way your days in a blind hole.
That face shou'd be adorn'd, my Girl,
To make folke gaze, with paint and pearl.
See by my Trojan Livery,
What tearing sparks the Ladies be.
Disdain not then, my pretty Jade,
To take a Trojan to your Bed.
Jove, that thinks scorn to be a Sutler,
Yet took a Trojan for his Butler:
And fair Aurora to her Lodging
Did hardly blush to take a Trojan:
And Venus put on all Disguises
To make a Cully of Anchises;
Nor rank't with him, your Husband can
Be thought the better Gentleman.
My fire ne're caus'd the wain to stay,
And rob the Horses of their Hay:
My Race are of no Newgate-order,
Tainted with Felony or Murder:
Nor were they tantaliz'd in Fables,
Or whipt for stealing Plumbs and Apples.
To grace your Husband, you must flatter
Your Kindred Jove to mend the matter.
Or that I would your house disparage:
But you that shou'd be deckt at least
With all the splendor of the East,
Shou'd not sit ragged, and condole
A way your days in a blind hole.
That face shou'd be adorn'd, my Girl,
To make folke gaze, with paint and pearl.
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What tearing sparks the Ladies be.
Disdain not then, my pretty Jade,
To take a Trojan to your Bed.
Jove, that thinks scorn to be a Sutler,
Yet took a Trojan for his Butler:
And fair Aurora to her Lodging
Did hardly blush to take a Trojan:
And Venus put on all Disguises
To make a Cully of Anchises;
Nor rank't with him, your Husband can
Be thought the better Gentleman.
My fire ne're caus'd the wain to stay,
And rob the Horses of their Hay:
My Race are of no Newgate-order,
Tainted with Felony or Murder:
Nor were they tantaliz'd in Fables,
Or whipt for stealing Plumbs and Apples.
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Your Kindred Jove to mend the matter.
Ye Gods, that such a smal-beer Trooper,
Not worthy scarce to kiss thy Crupper,
Shou'd hug, and lug, and coaks, and flatter,
And thy poor Paris mouth make water?
Not worthy scarce to kiss thy Crupper,
Shou'd hug, and lug, and coaks, and flatter,
And thy poor Paris mouth make water?
What shall I do? still tongue and smack,
And I nere come in for a snack?
When you the Bantling chuck, I take
And hug the Bratt for th' Mothers sake.
Sometimes I take the Pot to piss,
And from my Bawble blow a kiss.
Sometimes I try to Bribe your woman:
She tells me I'm a sot, and no man.
If I can not your favour won,
I wish by any means 't were done,
By foul or fair, 'tis all as one.
Then in a prayer as I begun,
I throw me at your feet along—
Oh thou more bright and glittering Peacock,
Then both thy Brothers in a hay-cock!
And fitter farr for the Aboads
Of Trojan Dukes and Pagan Gods:
Either to Troy with thee I'll budge,
Or hear I'll die thy mortall Drudge.
And I nere come in for a snack?
When you the Bantling chuck, I take
And hug the Bratt for th' Mothers sake.
Sometimes I take the Pot to piss,
And from my Bawble blow a kiss.
Sometimes I try to Bribe your woman:
She tells me I'm a sot, and no man.
If I can not your favour won,
I wish by any means 't were done,
By foul or fair, 'tis all as one.
Then in a prayer as I begun,
I throw me at your feet along—
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Then both thy Brothers in a hay-cock!
And fitter farr for the Aboads
Of Trojan Dukes and Pagan Gods:
Either to Troy with thee I'll budge,
Or hear I'll die thy mortall Drudge.
I cou'd say more, but 't will be better
When we are both alone together.
Perhaps you will pretend, and scorns
To make your Ninny wear the horns.
Oh Nelly, can you be so simple
To think your face without a Pimple?
Or change that face, or be more kind:
Beauty and Grace are seldom joyn'd.
When we are both alone together.
Perhaps you will pretend, and scorns
To make your Ninny wear the horns.
Oh Nelly, can you be so simple
To think your face without a Pimple?
Or change that face, or be more kind:
Beauty and Grace are seldom joyn'd.
If thou thy Parents virtue connest,
Can Jove and Leda's Brat be honest?
Yet be as honest as you can,
At Troy, she's so that keeps to one.
But now, my pug, Let's do a little,
Now in the Absence of your wittall.
He Courts you to it, who because
He'd spoile no sport, kindly withdrawes.
No other time to go to Crete?
Ho'w obliging is a Cuckolds wit?
His chiefest Care above the rest,
You shou'd be civill to your guest;
But you forget the charge was giv'n,
And value not your slave a pin
And think you such a senceless Lubbard
Can prize the Treasure of your Cup-boord?
Sure did he understand the Danger,
He ne're wou'd trust you with a stranger.
If neither I can move, nor he,
We 'are forc't by opportunity:
Nay, greater Fools then he, to bridle
Our geer, and such a time be idle!
You lie alone, and so do I;
Lets make one Bed, and so comply.
Can Jove and Leda's Brat be honest?
Yet be as honest as you can,
At Troy, she's so that keeps to one.
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Now in the Absence of your wittall.
He Courts you to it, who because
He'd spoile no sport, kindly withdrawes.
No other time to go to Crete?
Ho'w obliging is a Cuckolds wit?
His chiefest Care above the rest,
You shou'd be civill to your guest;
But you forget the charge was giv'n,
And value not your slave a pin
And think you such a senceless Lubbard
Can prize the Treasure of your Cup-boord?
Sure did he understand the Danger,
He ne're wou'd trust you with a stranger.
If neither I can move, nor he,
We 'are forc't by opportunity:
Nay, greater Fools then he, to bridle
Our geer, and such a time be idle!
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Lets make one Bed, and so comply.
If you shou'd on nice scruples reckon,
I'll find a way to save your Bacon.
No president so like your Mothers,
That old their Theseus, and your Brothers.
Theseus stole you, and they stole Mally:
I'll be the fourth upon the Tally.
I'll find a way to save your Bacon.
No president so like your Mothers,
That old their Theseus, and your Brothers.
Theseus stole you, and they stole Mally:
I'll be the fourth upon the Tally.
I have a Boat well man'd and oar'd,
Able to take us both a board.
Fear not a Clamor will insue,
I've Asses, men, and Clubs enough;
And I can (shou'd the Fool be rough)
Deal with your Husband well enough.
When but a Boy, I did so warble
A Jackanapes that stole my marble.
Deiphob, and Ilion in my wrath,
With my own fist I cuft 'em both;
Besides all this, I have a Hector
Will read his Coxcomb such a Lecture,
That I am sure no force can harm me
Nor you; he is himself an Army.
Nay wench, you don't yet know me fully,
Who am predestin'd for your Bully.
Either from Greece no war shall follow,
Or if it does, thy foes I'll swallow.
Nor think Id'e basely lose my forage,
That prize would give the Coward Courage:
Our fire and flame shall be inrold,
When you and I pox all the world.
To Bed to Bed; and for the thing,
You'l find as good as you shall bring.
Able to take us both a board.
Fear not a Clamor will insue,
I've Asses, men, and Clubs enough;
And I can (shou'd the Fool be rough)
Deal with your Husband well enough.
When but a Boy, I did so warble
A Jackanapes that stole my marble.
Deiphob, and Ilion in my wrath,
With my own fist I cuft 'em both;
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Will read his Coxcomb such a Lecture,
That I am sure no force can harm me
Nor you; he is himself an Army.
Nay wench, you don't yet know me fully,
Who am predestin'd for your Bully.
Either from Greece no war shall follow,
Or if it does, thy foes I'll swallow.
Nor think Id'e basely lose my forage,
That prize would give the Coward Courage:
Our fire and flame shall be inrold,
When you and I pox all the world.
To Bed to Bed; and for the thing,
You'l find as good as you shall bring.
| The wits paraphras'd | |