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THE NEW-RIVER HEAD. A TALE. Attempted in the Manner of Mr. C.DENIS. And Inſcribed to JOHN WILKES, Eſq.
BY ROBERT LLOYD.
Labitur & labetur in omne volubilis aevum. HOR.
LONDON: Printed for G. KEARSLY, oppoſite St. Martin's Church, Ludgate-Street; and W. FLEXNEY, near Gray's-Inn Gate, Holborn. MDCCLXIII.
THE NEW-RIVER HEAD. A TALE.
[][]DEAR WILKES, whoſe lively ſocial Wit
Diſdains the prudiſh Affectation
Of gloomy Folks, who love to ſit
As Doctors ſhould at Conſultation,
Permit me, in familiar Strain,
To ſteal you from the idle hour
Of combating the NORTHERN THANE,
And all his puppet tools of Power.
[2]
Shame to the Wretch, if ſenſe of ſhame
Can ever touch the miſcreant's breaſt,
Who dead to virtue as to fame,
(A Monſter whom the Gods deteſt)
Turns traitor to himſelf, to court
Or Miniſter or Monarch's ſmile;
And dares, in inſolence of ſport,
Invade the CHARTER of our Iſle.
But why ſhould I, who only ſtrive,
By telling of an eaſy tale,
To keep attention half alive
'Gainſt BOLGOLAM and FLIMNAP rail?
For whether ENGLAND be the name,
(Name which we're taught no more to prize)
Or BRITAIN, it is all the ſame,
The Lilliputian Stateſmen riſe
To malice of gigantic ſize.
Let them enjoy their warmth a while,
Truth ſhall regard them with a ſmile,
[3] While you, like GULLIVER, in ſport
Piſs out the fire, and ſave the Court.
But to return—The tale is old;
Indecent, truly none of mine—
What BEROALDUS gravely told;
I read it in that ſound divine.
And for indecency, you know
She had her faſhionable turn,
As prim obſervers clearly ſhew
In t'other Parſon, Doctor STERNE.
Yet POPE denies it all defence,
And calls it, bleſs us! Want of ſenſe.
But e'en the decent POPE can write
*Of bottles, corks, and maiden ſighs,
Of charming beauties leſs in ſight,
Of the more ſecret precious hair,
†"And ſomething elſe of little Size,
You know where."
[4] If ſuch Authorities prevail,
To varniſh o'er this petty ſin,
I plead a pardon for my tale,
And having hemm'd and cough'd—begin.
A Genius (one of thoſe I mean,
We read of in th' Arabian Nights;
Not ſuch as every day are ſeen
At Bob's or Arthur's, whilom White's;
For howſoe'er you change the name,
The Clubs and Meetings are the ſame;
Nor thoſe prodigious learned folks,
Your Haberdaſhers of ſtale Jokes,
Who dreſs them up ſo neat and clean
For News-paper or Magazine;
But one that could play wond'rous tricks,
Changing the very courſe of Nature,
Not ASMODEUS on two ſticks
Or ſage URGANDA could do greater.)
[5]
Once on a time incog. came down
From his equivocal dominions,
And travell'd o'er a country town
To try folks tempers and opinions:
When to accompliſh his intent
(For had the cobler known the king,
Lord! it would quite have ſpoil'd the thing)
In ſtrange diſguiſe he ſlily went,
And ſtump'd along the high-way track,
With greaſy knapſack at his back;
And now the night was pitchy dark,
Without one ſtar's indulgent ſpark,
Whether he wanted ſleep or not,
Is of no conſequence to tell;
A bed and lodging muſt be got,
For geniuſes live always well.
At the beſt houſe in all the town,
(It was th' attorney's you may ſwear)
He knock'd as he'd have beat it down,
Knock as you would, no entrance there.
[6] But from the window cried the dame,
Go, ſirrah go, from whence you came.
Here, Nell, John, Thomas, ſee who knocks,
Fellow, I'll put you in the ſtocks.
Be gentle ma'm, the Genius cried;
Have mercy on the wand'ring poor,
Who knows not where his head to hide,
And aſks a pittance at your door.
A mug of beer, a cruſt of bread—
Have pity on the houſeleſs head;
Your huſband keeps a lordly table,
I aſk but for the offal crumbs,
And for a lodging—barn or ſtable
Will ſhroud me till the morning comes.
'Twas all in vain; ſhe rang the bell,
The ſervants trembl'd at the knell;
Down flew the maids to tell the men,
To drive the vagrant back agen.
[7]
He trudg'd away in angry mind,
And thought but cheaply of mankind,
Till thro' a caſement's dingy pane,
A ruſh-light's melancholy ray,
Bad him e'en try his luck again;
Perhaps beneath a houſe of clay
A wand'ring paſſenger might find,
A better friend to human kind,
And far more hoſpitable fare,
Tho' not ſo coſtly, nice, or rare,
As ſmokes upon the ſilver plate
Of the luxurious pamper'd great.
So to this cot of homely thatch,
In the ſame plight the genius came:
Down comes the dame, lifts up the latch;
What want ye ſir?
God ſave you, dame.
[8] And ſo he told the piteous tale,
Which you have heard him tell before,
Your patience and my own would fail
Were I to tell it o'er and o'er.
Suffice it, that my goody's care
Brought forth her beſt, tho' ſimple fare,
And from the corner-cupboard's hoard,
Her ſtranger gueſt the more to pleaſe,
Beſpread her hoſpitable board
With what ſhe had—'twas bread and cheeſe.
'Tis honeſt tho' but homely cheer;
Much good may't do ye, eat your fill,
Would I cou'd treat you with ſtrong beer,
But for the action take the will.
You ſee my cot is clean, tho' ſmall,
Pray heav'n encreaſe my ſlender ſtock!
You're welcome, friend, you ſee my all;
And for your bed, ſir—there's a flock.
[9]
No matter what was after ſaid,
He eat and drank and went to bed.
And now the cock his mattins ſung,
(Howe'er ſuch ſinging's light eſteem'd,
'Tis precious in the Muſes' tongue
When ſung rimes better than he ſcream'd)
The dame and pedlar both aroſe,
At early dawn of riſing day,
She for her work of folding cloaths,
And He to travel on his way;
But much he thought himſelf to blame,
If, as in duty ſurely bound,
He did not thank the careful dame
For the reception he had found.
Hoſteſs, quoth He, before I go,
I thank you for your hearty Fare;
Would it were in my pow'r to pay
My gratitude a better way;
But money now runs very low,
And I have not a doit to ſpare.
[10] But if you'll take this piece of Stuff—
—No quoth the dame, I'm poor as you,
Your kindeſt wiſhes are enough,
You're welcome, friend, farewell—Adieu.
But firſt reply'd the wand'ring gueſt,
For bed and board and homely diſh,
May all things turn out for the beſt,
So take my bleſſing and my wiſh.
May what you firſt begin to do,
Create ſuch profit and delight,
That you may do it all day through,
Nor finiſh till the depth of night.
Thank you, ſhe ſaid, and ſhut the door,
Turn'd to her work, and thought no more.
And now the napkin, which was ſpread
To treat her gueſt with good brown bread,
She folded up with niceſt care;
When lo! another napkin there!
And every folding did beget
Another and another yet.
[11] She folds a ſhift—by ſtrange encreaſe,
The remnant ſwells into a piece.
Her Caps, her Laces, all the ſame,
Till ſuch a quantity of Linen,
From ſuch a very ſmall beginning,
Flow'd in at once upon the Dame,
Who wonder'd how the duce it came,
That with the drap'ry ſhe had got
Within her little ſhabby cot,
She might for all the town provide
And break both York-ſtreet and Cheapſide.
It happen'd that th' attorney's wife,
Who, to be ſure, took much upon her,
As being one in higher Life,
Who did the Pariſh mighty honour,
Sent for the Dame, who, poor and willing,
Would take a job of charing work,
And ſweat and toil like any Turk,
To earn a ſixpence or a ſhilling.
[12]
She could not come, not ſhe indeed!
She thank'd her much, but had no need.
Good news will fly as well as bad,
So out this wond'rous ſtory came,
About the Pedlar and the Dame,
Which made th' Attorney's wife ſo mad,
That ſhe reſolv'd at any rate,
Spite of her pride and Lady airs,
To get the Pedlar téte a téte,
And make up all the paſt affairs,
And tho' ſhe wiſh'd him at the devil,
When he came there the night before,
Determin'd to be monſtrous civil,
And drop her curtſie at the door.
Now all was racket, noiſe and pother,
Nell running one way, John another,
And Tom was on the coach-horſe ſent,
To learn which way the Pedlar went.
[13] Thomas return'd;—the Pedlar brought.
—What could my dainty Madam ſay,
For not behaving as ſhe ought,
And driving honeſt folks away?
Upon my word, it ſhocks me much,
—But there's ſuch thieving here of late—
Not that I dream'd that you were ſuch,
When you came knocking at my gate.
I muſt confeſs myſelf to blame,
And I'm afraid you lately met
Sad treatment with that homely dame,
Who lives on what her hands can get.
Walk in with me at leaſt to-night,
And let us ſet all matters right.
I know my duty, and indeed
Would help a friend in time of need.
Take ſuch refreſhment as you find,
I'm ſure I mean it for the beſt,
And give it with a willing mind
To ſuch a grave and ſober gueſt.
[14]
So in they came, and for his picking,
Behold the table covers ſpread,
Inſtead of Goody's cheeſe and bread,
With tarts, and fiſh, and fleſh, and chicken.
And to appear in greater ſtate,
The knives and forks with ſilver handles,
The candleſticks of bright (French) plate
To hold her beſt mould (tallow) candles,
Were all brought forth to be diſplay'd,
In female houſewifry parade.
And more the Pedlar to regale,
And make the wond'rous man her friend,
Decanters foam'd of mantling ale,
And port and claret without end;
They hobb'd and nobb'd, and ſmil'd and laugh'd,
Touch'd glaſſes, nam'd their toaſts, and quaff'd;
Talk'd over every friend and foe,
Till eating, drinking, talking paſt,
The kind houſe-clock ſtruck twelve at laſt.
When wiſhing Madam bon repos,
[15] The Pedlar pleaded weary head,
Made his low bow, and went to bed.
Wiſhing him then at perfect eaſe,
A good ſoft bed, a good ſound ſleep,
Now, gentle reader, if you pleaſe,
We'll at the Lady take a peep.
She could not reſt, but turn'd and toſs'd,
While Fancy whiſper'd in her brain,
That what her indiſcretion loſt,
Her art and cunning might regain.
Such Linnen to ſo poor a dame!
For ſuch coarſe fare! perplex'd her head;
Why might not ſhe expect the ſame,
So courteous, civil, and well-bred?
And now ſhe reckon'd up her ſtore
Of Cambricks, Hollands, Muſlins, Lawns,
Free gifts, and Purchaſes, and Pawns,
Reſolv'd to multiply them more,
[16] Till ſhe had got a Stock of Linnen,
Fit for a Dowager to ſin in.
The morning came, when up ſhe got,
Moſt ceremoniouſly inclin'd
To wind up her ſagacious plot,
With all that civil ſtuff we find
'Mongſt thoſe who talk a wond'rous deal
Of what they neither mean nor feel.
How ſhall I, Ma'm, reply'd the Gueſt,
Make you a ſuitable return,
For your attention and concern,
And ſuch civilities expreſt
To one, who muſt be ſtill in debt
For all the kindneſs he has met?
For this your entertainment's ſake,
If ought of good my wiſh can do,
May what you firſt ſhall undertake,
Laſt without ceaſing all day through.
[17]
Madam, who kindly underſtood
His wiſh effectually good,
Strait dropp'd a curtſie wond'rous low,
For much ſhe wanted him to go,
That ſhe might look up all her ſtore,
And turn it into thouſands more.
Now all the maids were ſent to look
In every cranny, hole and nook,
For every rag which they could find
Of any ſize, or any kind.
Draw'rs, Boxes, Cloſets, Cheſts and Caſes
Were all unlock'd at once to get
Her Point, her Gawz, her Pruſſia-net,
With fifty names of fifty kinds,
Which ſuit variety of minds.
How ſhall I now my tale perſue,
So paſſing ſtrange, ſo paſſing true?
[18]
When every bit from every hoard,
Was brought and laid upon the board,
Left ſome more urgent obligation
Might interrupt her pleaſing toil,
And marring half her application,
The promis'd hopes of profit ſpoil,
Before ſhe folds a ſingle rag,
Or takes a cap from board or bag,
That nothing might her work prevent,
(For ſhe was now reſolv'd to labour,
With earneſt hope and full intent
To get the better of her neighbour)
Into the garden ſhe would go
To do that neceſſary thing,
Which muſt by all be done, you know,
By rich and poor, and high and low,
By Male and Female, Queen and King.
She little dream'd a common action,
Practis'd as duly as her pray'rs,
Sould prove ſo tedious a tranſaction,
Or coſt her ſuch a ſea of cares.
[19]
In ſhort the ſtreams ſo plenteous flow'd,
That in the dry and duſty weather,
She might have water'd all the road
For ten or twenty miles together.
What could ſhe do? as it began,
Th' involuntary torrent ran.
Inſtead of folding Cap or Mob,
So dreadful was this diſtillation,
That from a ſimple watering job,
She fear'd a general Inundation.
While for her Indiſcretion's crime,
And coveting too great a ſtore,
She made a river at a time,
Which ſure was never done before,
FINIS.
Notes
*
Rape of the Lock.
†
Pope's Letters.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2016). TEI. 3394 The new river head A tale Attempted in the manner of Mr C Denis And inscribed to John Wilkes Esq By Robert Lloyd. University of Oxford Text Archive. University of Oxford, License: Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License [http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/]. https://hdl.handle.net/11378/0000-0005-D16B-7