Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads Jacobite Ballads, &c. &c. By George W. Thornbury ... with illustrations by H. S. Marks |
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THE SUCCORY WATER.
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 | Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads |  |
152
THE SUCCORY WATER.
(Louis Quatorze.)
Why who could fancy now Montesson there—
She with that fairy little crimson shoe,
Puffed round with swans' down, balanced with such care
On tiptoe of her dancing foot—but two
Or three short minutes—only when the hour
The gilded cupid touched—with half shut eye,
Dropped something deadly in the succory jug,
Falling back languid—and I watching by.
She with that fairy little crimson shoe,
Puffed round with swans' down, balanced with such care
On tiptoe of her dancing foot—but two
Or three short minutes—only when the hour
The gilded cupid touched—with half shut eye,
Dropped something deadly in the succory jug,
Falling back languid—and I watching by.
Thinking no eye was on her—painted whore!
Now by her love-knot hanging to my sword,
And by this favour stolen from her curls;
I will disclose it to her wittol lord:
Yes, by her glove, still faint with wanton scent,
I will prick out this viper from her lair,
Unmask her in the full flush of the court,
Brand the lewd harlot on her whitewashed cheek,
Now by her love-knot hanging to my sword,
And by this favour stolen from her curls;
I will disclose it to her wittol lord:
Yes, by her glove, still faint with wanton scent,
I will prick out this viper from her lair,
Unmask her in the full flush of the court,
Brand the lewd harlot on her whitewashed cheek,
And open out this plague-den to the air.
But first unmask her; see, she shams asleep,
Her rounded brow propped by her dainty hand.
Fool! I remember when to buy one kiss
I would have beggared self of house and land;
But now, ah, well! there have been other fools!
Cæsar, for instance;—Sampson—yes, well, well!
Poison for me, to cure my doting;—Jules,
Bring me a flambeau when I clash the bell.
153
Her rounded brow propped by her dainty hand.
Fool! I remember when to buy one kiss
I would have beggared self of house and land;
But now, ah, well! there have been other fools!
Cæsar, for instance;—Sampson—yes, well, well!
Poison for me, to cure my doting;—Jules,
Bring me a flambeau when I clash the bell.
Now for a rough hand on her velvet arm;
Awake my lady—I am off to court.
This succory water's curdled, Rosa lapped,
And died five minutes since. Ah! harlot caught.
No tricks for me: how pale the witch's face—
Cold, dead. Ring the alarm bell—she has escaped.
Death has tricked Justice! cut her boddice lace;
Bring water; beautiful devil, how she's shaped!
Awake my lady—I am off to court.
This succory water's curdled, Rosa lapped,
And died five minutes since. Ah! harlot caught.
No tricks for me: how pale the witch's face—
Cold, dead. Ring the alarm bell—she has escaped.
Death has tricked Justice! cut her boddice lace;
Bring water; beautiful devil, how she's shaped!
| Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads | |