priest besides thyself e'er grumbled
To have his daughter tightly tumbled?
Then don't provoke me by your stay,
But get you gone, Sir, whilst you may.
I love the girl, and sha'nt part with her
Till age has made her hide whit-leather.
I'll keep her till I can no more,
And then I will not turn her o'er,
But with my goods at Argos land her,
And to my own old mansion hand her,
Where she shall card, and spin, and make
The bed which she has help'd to shake.
From all such blubb'ring rogues, depend on't,
I'll hold her safe, so mark the end on't.
Then cease thy canting sobs and groans,
And scamper ere I break thy bones.
Away then sneak'd the harmless wizard,
Grumbling confoundedly i' th' gizzard,
And, as in doleful dumps he pass'd,
Look'd sharp for fear of being thrash'd.
But out of harm's way when he got,
To Phœbus he set up his throat:
Smintheus, Latona's son and heir,
Cilla's chief justice, hear my pray'r!
Thou link-boy of the world, that dost
In Chrysa's village rule the roast,
And know'st the measure, inter nos,
Of ev'ry wench in Tenedos,
Rat-catcher general of heaven,
Remember how much flesh I've given
To stay your stomach; beef and mutton
I never fail'd your shrine to put on;
And, as I knew you lik'd them dearly,
I hung a dozen garlands yearly
About your church, nor charg'd the warden
Or overseers a single farthing;
But paid the charge and swept the gallery
Out of my own poor lousy salary.
This I have done, I'll make't appear,
For more than five-and-fifty year.
In recompense I now insist
The Grecians feel thy toe and fist;
For sure thou canst not grudge the least
To vindicate so good a priest.
Thus Chrysis pray'd: in dreadful ire,
The carrot-pated god took fire;
But ere he stirr'd he bent his bow,
That he might have the less to do,
Resolv'd before he did begin
To souse 'em whilst his hand was in.
Fierce as he mov'd the Greeks to find,
He made a rumbling noise behind;
His guts with grumbling surely never
Could roar so loud – it was his quiver,
Which, as he trotted, with a thwack
Rattled against his raw-bone back.
In darkness he his body shrouds,
By making up a cloak of clouds.
But, when he came within their view,
Twang went his trusty bow of yew:
He first began with dogs and mules,
And next demolish'd knaves and fools.
Nine nights he never went to sleep,
And knock'd 'em down like rotten sheep;
And would have sous'd 'em all, but Juno,
A scolding b – h as any you know,
Came and explain'd the matter fully
To Thetis' son, the Grecian bully,
Who ran full speed to summon all
The common council to the hall.
When seated, with a solemn look
Achilles rose, and thus he spoke:
Neighbours, can any Grecian say
We ought not all to run away
From this curst place without delay?
Else soon our best and bravest cocks
Will be destroy'd by plague or pox.
We cannot long, though Jove doth back us,
Resist, whilst two such foes attack us.
I think 'tis time to spare the few
Our broils have left; but what think you?
A cunning man perhaps may tell us
The reason why this plague befel us
Or an old woman, that can dream,
May help us out in this extreme;
For dreams, if rightly you attend 'em,
Are true, when Jove thinks fit to send 'em.
Thus may we form some judgment what
This same Apollo would be at;
Whether he mauls each wicked sinner,
Because a mighty pimping dinner
He often had but then he knew
That we had damn'd short commons too.
If 'tis for that he makes such stir,
He's not the man I took him for:
But, as I've reason for my fears,
I vote to pay him all arrears.
Therefore let such a man be found,
Either above or under ground,
To tell us quickly how we may
In proper terms begin to pray,
That he may ease us of these curses,
And stay at home and mind his horses —
Much better bus'ness for the spark
Than shooting Grecians in the dark.
He said, and squatting on his breech,
Calchas rose up, and look'd on each:
With caution he began to speak
A speech compos'd of purest Greek.
He was a wizard, and could cast
A figure to find out things past;
And things to come he could foretel,
Almost as well as Sydrophel.
The diff'rent languages he knew
Of every kind of bird that flew,
Each word could construe that they spoke.
Or screech-owl's scream, or raven's croak,
And, by a science most profound,
Distinguish rotten eggs from sound.
When first the Grecians mann'd their boats
To sail and cut the Trojans' throats,
Safely to steer 'em through the tide,
They chose this wizard for their guide.
As slow as clock-work he arose,
Then with his fingers wip'd his nose:
Dubious to speak or hold his tongue,
His words betwixt his teeth were hung:
But,