intended alone, Against
me, and that my little faults might be known; Since 'tis as it is, I am
very well pleas'd, Your head shall be loaded, my tail shall be eas'd;
For since you have publish'd my shame and disgrace, And have made me a
jest to the heavenly race; I'll be impudent now, and whenever I meet,
My dear favourite Mars, tho' it be in the street; If a bulk be but
near, I will never more dally, He shall, if it pleases him, ay marry
shall he; Thus all you shall get by your open detection, Of one silly
error in female affection, Is a wife that will cuckold you worse out of
spite, Now she's catch'd, than before she e're did for delight; To
punish thy head and heart, that very vice, Which I us'd but in private
whilst honour was nice; I'll publickly now practice over and o'er, Till
thou'rt fain'd for a Cuckold and I for a Whore." Cries Vulcan, "Could
ever man think that a Goddess, Admir'd for her charms by such numbers
of noddies, Should ever be curst with so rampant a tail, That will
wallow more love-sap, than I can do ale; A pox on your rump, for I
plainly see 'tis As salt as your parents, Oceanus and Tethys. But had I
first known you had sprung from salt water, The Devil for me, should
have marry'd the daughter; Besides, you are grown both so lustful and
bold, And for all your sweet looks, have a Billingsgate tongue, That is
fifty times worse than a fishwoman's hung. If these be the plagues of a
beautiful wife, O ease me, Great Jove, of so cursed a life; If La Pies
divine, who inhabit the Heavens, Will Whore on like mortals, at sixes
and sevens; Rave, rattle, and taunt at their horrify'd spouses, And
ramble abitching thro' all the twelve houses; For all your fine
features I'll e'en give you over, The charms of a Whore are but plagues
to a lover. Get you gone and be pox'd, to your old bully Mars, Let a
God be a slave to your Goddesship's A—-s; Whilst I'm contempt of your
infamous rump, On my anvil will knock, with a thump, a thump-thump!"
The second day after Frank had read these curious old bits to his
parents and sister, they were all delighted by the arrival of young
Harry Mortimer to spend a day with his old school-mate.
To judge by appearances Mr. Etheridge had every cause for the curious
desires he had confessed to, two days before. Harry was a really
handsome youth of seventeen, with golden coloured hair, the bloom of
the peach on his cheeks, and a most loveable pair of deep blue eyes
which seemed full of the humid fire of love. He had also a finely
developed form, which his close-fitting garments set off to the best
advantage, and, above all, what had the most charm for the eyes of his
friends as they so heartily welcomed him to their house was the evident
precocity of his organs of love, which in their quiescent state showed
a most prominent lump in his trousers.
Mrs. Etheridge: "Why Harry, what a fine fellow you have grown since I
saw you a year ago. No doubt you are too bashful to kiss Ethel now, but
you will surely embrace an old friend like me, who used to nurse you in
my arms as a baby," giving him such an amorous hug and smack upon his
cheeks that the young fellow blushed up to his eyes.
After luncheon Frank took Harry for a walk, and asking him if he would
like to look at their horses, they bent their steps to the stables
where the groom Thomas, a fine handsome young fellow of about twenty,
was polishing the coats of his charges, at the same time as he emitted
that curious hissing which all stablemen so mysteriously accustom
themselves to when busy over their work. He did not see the two young
gentlemen till they had been watching his operations for a few seconds,
but as soon as he did so, respectfully touched his cap and asked them
to look at his horses.
Walking into the stable, Thomas, cap in hand, respectfully pointed out
all the perfections of his pets and the neatness of all the
appointments. Then he conducted them into the harness room, which was
at the top of a short flight of stairs.
Thomas
me, and that my little faults might be known; Since 'tis as it is, I am
very well pleas'd, Your head shall be loaded, my tail shall be eas'd;
For since you have publish'd my shame and disgrace, And have made me a
jest to the heavenly race; I'll be impudent now, and whenever I meet,
My dear favourite Mars, tho' it be in the street; If a bulk be but
near, I will never more dally, He shall, if it pleases him, ay marry
shall he; Thus all you shall get by your open detection, Of one silly
error in female affection, Is a wife that will cuckold you worse out of
spite, Now she's catch'd, than before she e're did for delight; To
punish thy head and heart, that very vice, Which I us'd but in private
whilst honour was nice; I'll publickly now practice over and o'er, Till
thou'rt fain'd for a Cuckold and I for a Whore." Cries Vulcan, "Could
ever man think that a Goddess, Admir'd for her charms by such numbers
of noddies, Should ever be curst with so rampant a tail, That will
wallow more love-sap, than I can do ale; A pox on your rump, for I
plainly see 'tis As salt as your parents, Oceanus and Tethys. But had I
first known you had sprung from salt water, The Devil for me, should
have marry'd the daughter; Besides, you are grown both so lustful and
bold, And for all your sweet looks, have a Billingsgate tongue, That is
fifty times worse than a fishwoman's hung. If these be the plagues of a
beautiful wife, O ease me, Great Jove, of so cursed a life; If La Pies
divine, who inhabit the Heavens, Will Whore on like mortals, at sixes
and sevens; Rave, rattle, and taunt at their horrify'd spouses, And
ramble abitching thro' all the twelve houses; For all your fine
features I'll e'en give you over, The charms of a Whore are but plagues
to a lover. Get you gone and be pox'd, to your old bully Mars, Let a
God be a slave to your Goddesship's A—-s; Whilst I'm contempt of your
infamous rump, On my anvil will knock, with a thump, a thump-thump!"
The second day after Frank had read these curious old bits to his
parents and sister, they were all delighted by the arrival of young
Harry Mortimer to spend a day with his old school-mate.
To judge by appearances Mr. Etheridge had every cause for the curious
desires he had confessed to, two days before. Harry was a really
handsome youth of seventeen, with golden coloured hair, the bloom of
the peach on his cheeks, and a most loveable pair of deep blue eyes
which seemed full of the humid fire of love. He had also a finely
developed form, which his close-fitting garments set off to the best
advantage, and, above all, what had the most charm for the eyes of his
friends as they so heartily welcomed him to their house was the evident
precocity of his organs of love, which in their quiescent state showed
a most prominent lump in his trousers.
Mrs. Etheridge: "Why Harry, what a fine fellow you have grown since I
saw you a year ago. No doubt you are too bashful to kiss Ethel now, but
you will surely embrace an old friend like me, who used to nurse you in
my arms as a baby," giving him such an amorous hug and smack upon his
cheeks that the young fellow blushed up to his eyes.
After luncheon Frank took Harry for a walk, and asking him if he would
like to look at their horses, they bent their steps to the stables
where the groom Thomas, a fine handsome young fellow of about twenty,
was polishing the coats of his charges, at the same time as he emitted
that curious hissing which all stablemen so mysteriously accustom
themselves to when busy over their work. He did not see the two young
gentlemen till they had been watching his operations for a few seconds,
but as soon as he did so, respectfully touched his cap and asked them
to look at his horses.
Walking into the stable, Thomas, cap in hand, respectfully pointed out
all the perfections of his pets and the neatness of all the
appointments. Then he conducted them into the harness room, which was
at the top of a short flight of stairs.
Thomas
Similar Books
