 | The wits paraphras'd |  |
155
CYDIPPE HER ANSWER TO ACONTIUS.
I read your Note, tho' it was Blunt,
Nor did I swear as I was wont.
Nor had I valu'd it a whit,
But that I feard the peevish Chit.
You deal it seems with no small Bodies
That to your friend have got a Goddess.
Nor did I swear as I was wont.
Nor had I valu'd it a whit,
But that I feard the peevish Chit.
You deal it seems with no small Bodies
That to your friend have got a Goddess.
Is she so Chast to plague a Virgin,
She rather ought t 'have been my Surgeon.
But I have still the luck to deal
With Carrion Beef instead of Veal.
I'm sick I think oth' Mulligrubs,
Eating chopt Hay with Sillabubs.
I languish so with inward Blisters
I find no ease in Drugs nor Glisters.
I write, I vow t'ye, in such pain,
I'm ready to drop down again.
And what most racks my Pia mater,
Least ought but Nurs shou'd watch my water.
To gain me time she plays at Trap,
And tells my Friends I've ta'en a nap.
More pain for you I cou'd not suffer,
Tho' you had Goods to fill my Coffer,
Beauty and love conspire together,
'Twere happy had I ne'er known either.
She rather ought t 'have been my Surgeon.
But I have still the luck to deal
With Carrion Beef instead of Veal.
I'm sick I think oth' Mulligrubs,
Eating chopt Hay with Sillabubs.
156
I find no ease in Drugs nor Glisters.
I write, I vow t'ye, in such pain,
I'm ready to drop down again.
And what most racks my Pia mater,
Least ought but Nurs shou'd watch my water.
To gain me time she plays at Trap,
And tells my Friends I've ta'en a nap.
More pain for you I cou'd not suffer,
Tho' you had Goods to fill my Coffer,
Beauty and love conspire together,
'Twere happy had I ne'er known either.
Whilst with your Rival you are gabling,
I lose my Fame by your damn'd babling.
While two Dogs strive about the Bone,
A third comes in and leaves them none.
Thus while your Titles you confound,
Betwixt two Stools I fall to ground.
I lose my Fame by your damn'd babling.
While two Dogs strive about the Bone,
A third comes in and leaves them none.
Thus while your Titles you confound,
Betwixt two Stools I fall to ground.
157
The day draws on, and I must marry:
My Parents press, nor can I tarry.
But whilst the Groom waits at the port,
Death steps between, and spoils the sport.
Some call it Chance, and some disparage
The Gods, to say they cross my Marriage.
While some do censure, from your Fob
You gave a Philtre did the Jobb.
If you're so good at poysoning those
That are your Friends, who'll be your Foes?
My Parents press, nor can I tarry.
But whilst the Groom waits at the port,
Death steps between, and spoils the sport.
Some call it Chance, and some disparage
The Gods, to say they cross my Marriage.
While some do censure, from your Fob
You gave a Philtre did the Jobb.
If you're so good at poysoning those
That are your Friends, who'll be your Foes?
Wou'd I to Church ne'er found the way,
Or that I'd broke my neck that day.
When in your Port we fixt our Anchors,
We were afraid of nought but shankers.
Twice did cross winds oppose us there,
Cross did I say? No they were fair.
Those Winds were fair our Course withstood,
It's an ill wind blows no one good.
Yet to see Delos I was willing,
Tho' for a Wind I'de giv'n a shilling.
By Tenos Isle and Mycene
We came to Delos by long Sea.
And much I fear'd your Land of Faries
Wou'd vanish with their Cows and Daries.
Or that I'd broke my neck that day.
When in your Port we fixt our Anchors,
We were afraid of nought but shankers.
Twice did cross winds oppose us there,
Cross did I say? No they were fair.
Those Winds were fair our Course withstood,
It's an ill wind blows no one good.
158
Tho' for a Wind I'de giv'n a shilling.
By Tenos Isle and Mycene
We came to Delos by long Sea.
And much I fear'd your Land of Faries
Wou'd vanish with their Cows and Daries.
At night we Land, though not worth three-pence,
The Maids made me as fine as fi-pence;
Then to attend the shitten com sh---
We go, and I throw in my Mite.
And while my Parents made Preamble
Of Grace, my Nurs and I did ramble.
We saw all things we could come at,
Pictures, and Wonders, God knows what:
But whilst those Rarities I spy,
Acontius had me in his Eye;
And there while on my looks he fed,
A Sheeps Eye cast from a Calfs head.
The Maids made me as fine as fi-pence;
Then to attend the shitten com sh---
We go, and I throw in my Mite.
And while my Parents made Preamble
Of Grace, my Nurs and I did ramble.
We saw all things we could come at,
Pictures, and Wonders, God knows what:
But whilst those Rarities I spy,
Acontius had me in his Eye;
And there while on my looks he fed,
A Sheeps Eye cast from a Calfs head.
159
Now to the Spire we make a hault,
Which sure should be no Bawdy Vault.
With him no sooner did I grapple,
But there I found the treacherous Apple.
With this design—I vow and swear.
Ah me! what do I do?—I fear
Again I'm like to be forswore,
But there's enough of that before.
The name of Wife made me so great
That I was tickled with conceit.
Why should you cheat a silly maid
At such a rate, and play the Jade?
Is then the Nymph oblig'd to that,
Without a touch you know of what?
The will was good, why did you fear,
You might believe tho' I did not swear.
Yet have I still a damn'd suspicion
That I am in an ill Condition.
Thrice Hymen came to pick our locks,
But thrice he parted with a Pox.
And Dina still would Rule the Rost,
My Parents gave me o're for lost.
Which sure should be no Bawdy Vault.
With him no sooner did I grapple,
But there I found the treacherous Apple.
With this design—I vow and swear.
Ah me! what do I do?—I fear
Again I'm like to be forswore,
But there's enough of that before.
The name of Wife made me so great
That I was tickled with conceit.
Why should you cheat a silly maid
At such a rate, and play the Jade?
Is then the Nymph oblig'd to that,
Without a touch you know of what?
The will was good, why did you fear,
You might believe tho' I did not swear.
Yet have I still a damn'd suspicion
That I am in an ill Condition.
160
But thrice he parted with a Pox.
And Dina still would Rule the Rost,
My Parents gave me o're for lost.
What have I done you shou'd abuse me?
When ignorance does still excuse me?
Canst thou, even thou with all thy wit,
Canst thou oblige her with a Bit?
When to her canst thou bring a fee
That will excuse both thee and me?
When ignorance does still excuse me?
Canst thou, even thou with all thy wit,
Canst thou oblige her with a Bit?
When to her canst thou bring a fee
That will excuse both thee and me?
Nor think thy Rival is allow'd
A greater favour then the Crowd.
For tho' he comes without resistance,
I make the Rascall know his distance.
If he but steal a kiss, he blushes,
And strait his Nose with water gushes:
He once had courage to beseech,
I bid the Fool go kiss my Breech.
'Tis such another Nincompoop,
I sleep, and he begins to droop.
He sees, yet keeps his Eyes a winking,
Says nought, but pays it off with thinking.
He's full of grief, I full of pain,
And all this for a Rogue in grain.
Your Worship writes for leave to come,
To kiss the back side of my Bum.
With finger in your mouth I warrant
You'd have another sleeveless Errand.
But thou'lt repent when thou dost see
The Trophies of thy cruelty.
My flesh is tawny, Cheeks grow dapple,
Like the Complection of your Apple.
Now Lad, thou wou'dst repent my swearing
And hardly think me worth thy wearing.
To Delos then wou'd hast to Ease thee
And beg the Goddess to release thee.
Or in thy Cranny keep a puther
By new Oaths to outswear the other.
A greater favour then the Crowd.
For tho' he comes without resistance,
I make the Rascall know his distance.
If he but steal a kiss, he blushes,
And strait his Nose with water gushes:
He once had courage to beseech,
I bid the Fool go kiss my Breech.
161
I sleep, and he begins to droop.
He sees, yet keeps his Eyes a winking,
Says nought, but pays it off with thinking.
He's full of grief, I full of pain,
And all this for a Rogue in grain.
Your Worship writes for leave to come,
To kiss the back side of my Bum.
With finger in your mouth I warrant
You'd have another sleeveless Errand.
But thou'lt repent when thou dost see
The Trophies of thy cruelty.
My flesh is tawny, Cheeks grow dapple,
Like the Complection of your Apple.
Now Lad, thou wou'dst repent my swearing
And hardly think me worth thy wearing.
To Delos then wou'd hast to Ease thee
And beg the Goddess to release thee.
162
By new Oaths to outswear the other.
No means for health my Nurse omits,
And still I have my wonted fits.
We ask the Wiseman, he replying
Can any better come of Lying?
The Gods are on thy side; In thee
To be so kind what can they see?
But so it is — and I must buckle,
Under thy Foot-stool for to truckle.
Since 'tis my Fate thou must be mine,
Ile say no more but I am thine.
And still I have my wonted fits.
We ask the Wiseman, he replying
Can any better come of Lying?
The Gods are on thy side; In thee
To be so kind what can they see?
But so it is — and I must buckle,
Under thy Foot-stool for to truckle.
Since 'tis my Fate thou must be mine,
Ile say no more but I am thine.
My Mother now does understand me,
How with an Apple you trapan'd me.
What I have said in this Condition
I fear I've gone beyond Commission,
And said already more to thee,
Then what becoms my Modesty.
How with an Apple you trapan'd me.
What I have said in this Condition
I fear I've gone beyond Commission,
And said already more to thee,
Then what becoms my Modesty.
163
But lately since I took my portion,
And now I find a sudden Motion.
Be true, and set thy heart at rest,
I'll say no more, few words are best.
And now I find a sudden Motion.
Be true, and set thy heart at rest,
I'll say no more, few words are best.
| The wits paraphras'd | |