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Her cheeks so rare a white was on,
No daisy makes comparison:

Who sees them is undone :
For streaks of red were mingled there
Such as are on a Katharine pear,

The side that's next the sun.
Her lips were red, and one was thin
Compared to that was next her chin ;

Some bee had stung it newly,
But, Dick, her eyes so guard her face,
I durst no more upon them gaze

Than on the sun in July. Her mouth so small when she does speak, Thou’dst swear her teeth her words did break;

That they might passage get:
But she so handled still the matter,
They came as good as ours, or better,

And are not spent a whit.
Passion o'me! how I run on!
There's that that would be thought upon,

I trow, l esides the bride:
The business of the kitchen's great,
For it is fit that men should eat,

Nor was it there denied.
Just in the nick the cook knocked thrice,
And all the waiters in a trice

His summons did obey;
Each serving-man with dish in hand
Marched boldly up, like our train-band,

Presented and away.
When all the meat was on the table,
What man of knife, or teeth, was able

To stay to be entreated ?
And this the very reason was,
Before the


could say grace, The company was seated. Now hats fly off, and youths carouse : Healths first go round, and then the house;

The bride's came thick and thick;

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And, when 'twas named another's health,
Perhaps he made it her’s by stealth,

And who could help it, Dick ?
O’ the sudden up they rise and dance ;
Then sit again and sigh and glance;

Then dance again and kiss :
Thus several ways

the time did pass,
Whilst every woman wished her place,

And every man wished his.
By this time all were stolen aside
To counsel and undress the bride :

But that he must not know:
But yet 'twas thought he guessed her mind,
And did not mean to stay behind

Above an hour or so.
When in he came, Dick, there she lay,
Like new fallen snow melting away :

'Twas time, I trow, to part:
Kisses were now the only stay,
Which soon she gave, as who would say,

Good bye, with all my heart.
But, just as heavens would have to cross it,
In came the bride-maids with the posset ;

The bride-groom ate in spite;
For, had he left the women to 't,
It would have cost two hours to do 't,

Which were too much that night.


His doublet was of sturdy buff,
And though not sword, yet cudgel-proof,
Whereby 'twas fitter for his use,
Who feared no blows but such as bruise.
His breeches were of rugged woollen,
And had been at the siege of Bullen;
To old King Harry so well known,
Some writers held they were his own :

Througa they were lined with many a piece
Of ammunition bread and cheese,
And fat black puddings, proper food
For warriors that delight in blood :
For, as we said, he always chose
To carry victual in his hose,
That often tempted rats and mice
The ammunition to surprise.

His puissant sword unto his side,
Near his undaunted heart, was tied,
With basket hilt that would hold broth
And serve for fight and dinner both;
In it he melted lead for bullets,
To shoot at foes, and sometimes pullets,
To whom he bore so fell a grutch,
He ne'er gave quarter to any

The trenchant blade, Toledo trusty,
For want of fighting was grown rusty,
And ate into itself for lack
Of somebody to hew and hack :
The peaceful scabbard, where it dwelt,
The rancour of its edge had felt:
For of the lower end two handful
It had devoured, 'twas so manful,
And so much scorned to lurk in case,
As if it durst not show its face.
In many desperate attempts
Of warrants, exigents, contempts,
It had appeared with courage bolder
Than Sergeant Bum invading shoulder ;
Oft had it ta'en possession,
And pris’ners too, or made them run.

This sword a dagger had, his page,
That was but little for his age;
And therefore waited on him so,
As dwarfs upon knights-errant do:
It was a serviceable dudgeon,
Either for fighting or for drudging :
When it had stabbed or broke a head,
It would scrape trenchers, or chip bread;

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Toast cheese or bacon, though it were
To bait a mouse-trap, 'twould not care;
'Twould make clean shoes, and in the earth
Set leeks and onions, and so forth;
It had been 'prentice to a brewer,
Where this and more it did endure,
But left the trade, as many more
Have lately done on the same score.

In th' holsters, at his saddle-bow,
Two aged pistols he did stow,
Among the surplus of such meat
As in his hose he could not get ;
These would inveigle rats with th’scent,
To forage when the cocks were bent.
And sometimes catch 'em with a snap,
As cleverly as the ablest trap :
They were upon hard duty still,
And every night stood sentinel,
To guard the magazine i' the hose
From two-legged and from four-legged foes.

Thus clad and fortified, Sir Knight,
From peaceful home, set forth to fight.

They'll search a Planet's House to know
Who broke and robb’d a house below;
Examine Venus and the Moon,
Who stole a thimble, who a spoon;
And tho' they nothing will confess,
Yet by their very looks can guess,
And tell what guilty aspect bodes,
Who stole, and who receiv'd the goods.
They'll feel the pulses of the stars,
To find out Agues, Coughs, Catarrhs ;
And tell what Crisis does divine
The rot in sheep, the mange in swine;
In man what gives or cures the Itch,
What makes them cuckolds, poor or rich;
What gains or loses, hangs or saves;
What makes men great, what fools, what knaves ;


But not what wise; for only of those
The stars, they say, cannot dispose,
No more than can the Astrologians;
There they say right, and like true Trojans.
Some towns and cities, some, for brevity,
Have cast the 'versal world's nativity,
And made the infant stars confess,
Like fools or children, what they please.
Some calculate the hidden fates
Of monkeys, puppy-dogs, and cats :
Some running nags, and fighting cocks,
Some love, trade, law-suits, and the pox.
Some take a measure of the lives
Of fathers, mothers, husbands, wives;

As if the planet's first aspect
The tender infant did pfect:
No sooner had he peep'd into
The world, but he has done his do;
Catch'd all diseases, took all physick,
That cures or kills a man that is sick ,
Marry'd his punctual dose of wives
Is cuckolded, and breaks or thrives
There's but the twinkling of a star
Between a man of

peace and

war ; A thief and justice, fool and knave, A huffing officer and a slave; A crafty lawyer and pick-pocket, A great philosopher and a blockhead; A formal preacher and a player, A learn'd physician and manslayer; As if men from the stars did suck Old age, diseases, and ill luck ; [For] when your speculations tend Above their just and useful end, Although they promise strange and great Discoveries of things far set, They are but idle dreams and fancies.

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