I.
CHAUCER.
W
OMEN ben full of Ragerie,
Yet fwinken nat fans fecrefie.
Thilke moral shall ye understond,
From Schoole-boy's Tale of fayre Irelond :
Which to the Fennes hath him betake,
To filche the gray Ducke fro the Lake.
Right then, there paffen by the way
His Aunt, and eke her Daughters tway.
Ducke in his Trowses hath he hent,
Not to be spied of Ladies gent.
"But ho! our Nephew, (crieth one)
"Ho! quoth another, Cozen John;"
And stoppen, and lough, and callen out,---
This fely Clerk full low doth lout:
They afken that, and talken this, "Lo here is Coz, and here is Miss." But, as he glozeth with Speeches foote, The Ducke fore tickleth his Erfe roote: Fore-piece and buttons all-to-breft, Forth thruft a white neck, and red creft. Te-he, cry'd Ladies; Clerke nought spake : Miss star'd; and gray Ducke crieth Quaake. "O Moder, Moder, (quoth the daughter) "Be thilke fame thing Maids longer a'ter? "Bette is to pyne on coals and chalke, "Then trust on Mon, whofe yerde can talke.”
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I.
IN
;
N ev'ry Town, where Thamis rolls his Tyde, A narrow Pafs there is, with Houses low Where ever and anon, the Stream is ey'd, And many a Boat foft fliding to and fro. There oft are heard the notes of Infant Woe, 5 The short thick Sob, loud Scream, and fhriller
Squall:
How can ye, Mothers, vex your Children so? Some play, fome eat, fome cack against the wall, And as they crouchen low, for bread and butter call.
II.
And on the broken pavement, here and there, 10
Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco fhop is near,
And hens, and dogs, and hogs are feeding by;
And here a failor's jacket hangs to dry.
At ev'ry door are fun-burnt matrons feen,
Mending old nets to catch the fcaly fry;
Now finging fhrill, and fcolding eft between;
Scolds anfwer foul-mouth'd scolds, bad neigh-
bourhood I ween.
III.
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The snappish cur (the paffengers annoy)
Close at my heel with yelping treble flies;
The whimp'ring girl, and hoarfer-screaming boy,
Join to the yelping treble, fhrilling cries;
The fcolding Quean to louder notes doth rise,
And her full pipes those fhrilling cries confound;
To her full pipes the grunting hog replies; 25
The grunting hogs alarm the neighbours round,
And curs, girls, boys, and scolds, in the deep base
are drown'd.
IV.
Hard by a Sty, beneath a roof of thatch,
Dwelt Obloquy, who in her early days
Baskets of fish at Billingsgate did watch,
Cod, whiting, oyfter, mackrel, fprat, or plaice:
There learn'd she speech from tongues that never
cease.
30
Slander befide her, like a Mag-pie, chatters,
With Envy, (fpitting Cat) dread foe to peace;
Like a curs'd Cur, Malice before her clatters,
And vexing dry wight, tears clothes and all to
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tatters.
V.
Her dugs were mark'd by ev'ry Collier's hand,
Her mouth was black as bull-dogs at the stall :
She scratched, bit, and spar'd ne lace ne band,
And bitch and rogue her answer was to all; 40
Nay, e'en the parts of shame by name would call :
Yea, when the paffed by or lane or nook,
Would greet the man who turn'd him to the Wall,
And by his hand obfcene the porter took, 44
Nor ever did askance like modest Virgin look.
Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town,
Woolwich and Wapping, fmelling ftrong of pitch;
Such Lambeth, envy of each band and gown,
And Twick'nam fuch, which fairer scenes enrich,
Grots, statues, urns, and Jo---n's Dog and Bitch,
VOL. II.
S
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