The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb
Chapter 215 : XI "Your crown and your sceptre I like full well, They tempt a poor maiden's

XI

"Your crown and your sceptre I like full well, They tempt a poor maiden's pride, Sir; But your lands and possessions--excuse if I'm rude-- Are too far in a Northerly lat.i.tude For me to become your Bride, Sir.

XII

"In that aguish clime I should catch my death, Being but a raw new comer"-- Quoth he, "We have plenty of fuel stout; And the fires, which I kindle, never go out By winter, nor yet by summer.

XIII

"I am Prince of h.e.l.l, and Lord Paramount Over Monarchs there abiding.

My Groom of the Stables is Nimrod old; And Nebuchadnazor my stirrups must hold, When I go out a riding.

XIV

"To spare your blushes, and maiden fears, I resorted to these inventions-- But, Imposture, begone; and avaunt, Disguise!"

And the Devil began to swell and rise To his own diabolic dimensions.

XV

Twin horns from his forehead shot up to the moon, Like a branching stag in Arden; Dusk wings through his shoulders with eagle's strength Push'd out; and his train lay floundering in length An acre beyond the garden.--

XVI

To tender hearts I have framed my lay-- Judge ye, all love-sick Maidens, When the virgin saw in the soft moonlight, In his proper proportions, her own true knight, If she needed long persuadings.

XVII

Yet a maidenly modesty kept her back, As her s.e.x's art had taught her: For "the biggest Fortunes," quoth she, "in the land-- Are not worthy"--then blush'd--"of your Highness's hand-- Much less a poor Taylor's daughter.

XVIII

"There's the two Miss Crockfords are single still, For whom great suitors hunger; And their Father's h.e.l.l is much larger than mine"-- Quoth the Devil, "I've no such ambitious design, For their Dad is an old Fishmonger;

XIX

"And I cannot endure the smell of fish-- I have taken an anti-bias To their livers, especially since the day That the Angel smoked my cousin away From the chaste spouse of Tobias.

XX

"Had my amorous kinsman much longer staid, The perfume would have seal'd his obit; For he had a nicer nose than the wench, Who cared not a pin for the smother and stench, In the arms of the Son of Tobit."

XXI

"I have read it," quoth she, "in Apocryphal Writ"-- And the Devil stoop'd down, and kiss'd her; Not Jove himself, when he courted in flame, On Semele's lips, the love-scorch'd Dame, Impress'd such a burning blister.

XXII

The fire through her bones and her vitals shot-- "O, I yield, my winsome marrow-- I am thine for life"--and black thunders roll'd-- And she sank in his arms through the garden mould, With the speed of a red-hot arrow.

XXIII

Merrily, merrily, ring the bells From each Pandemonian steeple; For the Devil hath gotten his beautiful Bride, And a Wedding Dinner he will provide, To feast all kinds of people.

XXIV

Fat bulls of Basan are roasted whole, Of the breed that ran at David; With the flesh of goats, on the sinister side, That shall stand apart, when the world is tried; Fit meat for souls unsaved!

XXV

The fowl from the spit were the Harpies' brood, Which the bard sang near Cremona, With a garnish of bats in their leathern wings imp't; And the fish was--two delicate slices crimp't, Of the whale that swallow'd Jonah.

XXVI

Then the goblets were crown'd, and a health went round To the Bride, in a wine like scarlet; No earthly vintage so deeply paints, For 'twas dash'd with a tinge from the blood of the Saints By the Babylonian Harlot.

XXVII

No Hebe fair stood Cup Bearer there, The guests were their own skinkers; But Bishop Judas first blest the can, Who is of all h.e.l.l Metropolitan, And kiss'd it to all the drinkers.

XXVIII

The feast being ended, to dancing they went, To a music that did produce a Most dissonant sound, while a h.e.l.lish glee Was sung in parts by the Furies Three; And the Devil took out Medusa.

XXIX

But the best of the sport was to hear his old Dam, Set up her shrill forlorn pipe-- How the wither'd Beldam hobbled about, And put the rest of the company out-- For she needs must try a horn-pipe.

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