« AnteriorContinuar »
VISIT OF A KING TO A CATHEDRAL. 113
An instance take:—a king of this great land,
In days of yore, we understand,
An earl of Pembroke was the monarch's guide;
Incog, they travell'd, shuffling side by side:
The verger met them in his blue silk gown,
Low as an ass to lick a lock of hay:
Looking the frighted verger through and through AH with his eye-glass—' Well sir, who are you?
'What, what, sir?—hey, sir?' deign'd the. king te say.
'I am the verger here most mighty king: 'In this cathedral I do ev'ry thing;
'Sweep it, an't please ye, sir, and keep it clean.' 'Hey? verger! verger!—you the verger? hey?' 'Yes please your glorious majesty I be,'
The verger answer'd, with the mildest mien.
Then turn'd the king about towards the peer, And wink'd and laugh'd; then whisper'd in his ear, 4 Hey, hey—what, what—fine fellow,'pon my word: 'I'll knight him, knight him, knight him—hey, my lord?'
Then with his glass, as hard as eye could strain, He kenn'd the trembling verger o'er again.
'He 's a poor verger, sire,' his lordship cry'd: 'Sixpence would handsomely requite him.'
'Poor verger, verger, hey?' the king reply'd:
Now to the lofty roof the king did raise
114 THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE.
'Fine roof this, master verger, quite complete; 'High—high and lofty too, and clean and neat: 'What, verger, what? mop, mop it once a week??
'An't please your majesty,' with marv'ling chops^ The verger answer'd, 'we have got no mops
'In Sal'sb'ry that will reach so high.' 'Not mop, no, no, not mop it,' quoth the king— 'No, sir, our Sal'sb'ry mops do no such thing;
'They might as well pretend to scrub the skyv'
THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE.
A Pupil of the JEsculapian school
Yet think not that in knowledge he was cheated—
And how, if sick, he should be treated.
One morn he thus address'd his master—
* Dear sir, my hotior'd father bids me say,
'He thinks, with you,
'The thought is happy,' the preceptor cries;
* So Bob, (his pupil's name) it shall be so,
'And when I next pay visits you shall go.'
To bring that hour, alas! time briskly fled:
With dire intent,
Away they went,
THE DOCTOR AND HIS APPRENTICE. IIS
The master-doctor solemnly perus'd
Then felt his pulse, and smelt his cane,'
And briefly of his corps perform eacfi motion:
Before the fell discharge of pill and potion.
At length the patient's wife he thus addressed:
* Madam, your husband's danger's great; . .' And (what will never his complaint abate) * The man 's been eating oysters I perceive,'
'Dear! you 're a witch, I verily believe,' Madam replied, and to the truth confess'd.
Skill so prodigious Bobby too admir'd;
And home returning, of the sage inquir'd How these same oysters came into his head;
'Psha! my dear Bob, the thing was plain—
'Sure that can ne'er distress thy brain: 'I saw the shells lie underneath the bed V
So wise by such a lesson grown,
And to the self-same suflPrer paid his court—
And to his master made this dread report:
* Why sir, we ne'er can keep that patient under—
* Zounds! such a maw I never came across!
* The fellow must be dying and no wonder,
'For'—if he has n't eat a horse!'
'A horse!' the elder man of physic cried, As if be meant his pupil to deride—
116 ON THE DEATH OF A BLACKSMITH.
• How came so wild a notion in your head?'
* How! think not in my duty I was idle; 'Like you, I took a peep beneath the bed,
• And there 1 saw—a saddle and a bridle!'
ON THE DEATH OF A BLACKSMITH.
With the nerves of a Sampson, this son of the sledge,
By the anvil his livelihood got, With the skill of a Vulcan could temper an edge,
And strike—while the iron was hot.
By forging he liv'd—yet never was tried
But still it is certain, and can't be denied,
With the sons of St. Crispin no kindred he claim'd,
With the last he had nothing to do; He handled no awl, and yet in his time
Made many an excel lei it shoe.
He blew up no coals of sedition, but still
His bellows were always in blast;
That one vice, and but one, he possessed.
No actor was he, nor concern'd with the stage,
No audience to awe him appear'd;
The voice of hissing was-heard.
Tho' steeling of axes was part of his cares,
In thieving he never was found,
No vessel he e'er ran aground.
THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE. 117
Alas! and alack! what more can I say
Of Vulcan's unfortunate son? The priest and the sexton have borne him away,
And the sound of his hammer is done.
THE WELL OF ST. KEYNE.
The reported virtue of the 'water is this, that whether husband or -wife come first to drink thereof, they get the mastery thereby.
A Wexx there is in the west country,
And a clearer one never was seen; There is not a wife in the west country
But has heard of the well of St. Keync.
An oak and an elm tree stand beside,
And behind does an ash tree grow, And a willow from the bank above
Droops to the water below.
A traveller came to the well of St. Keyne;
Joyfully he drew nigh,
And there was not a cloud in the sky.
He drank of the water so cool and clear,
For thirsty and hot was he, And he sat down upon the bank,
Under the willow tree.
There came a man from the neighbouring town
At the well to fill his pail; On the well-side he rested it,
And he bade the stranger hail.
Now art thou a batchelor, stranger? quoth he,
For, an if thou hast a wife,
That ever thou didst in tby life.