active 1759-1775 Thomas Bridges

“ To th' ears in blood from morn to night.
But the bold Grecians on their toes
Steal softly to surprise their foes,
Taking huge steps along the green
To get a blow before they're seen,
Knowing, a sorry rogue may crack
A brave man's crown behind his back.
With nimble feet, in sweat well soak'd,
They trudge it, though with dust half chok'd.
Thus, when a mist on mountain head
As thick as mustard round is spread,
The puzzled shepherd cannot keep
The goats from mingling with the sheep:
So of the Greeks, not one, I trow,
Ask him but hastily, could know
Whether his nose was on or no. ”

“ For Juno's sake, who can't endure
The sight of either rogue or whore;
And therefore I expected soon
To see the bagnios tumbling down,
And noseless rogues, eat up with pox,
And whores in nothing but their smocks;
Running, like devils, helter skelter
To wine and brandy shops for shelter.
Pray give me leave though to inquire,
Is Troy demolish'd, or on fire?
But know, ye vixens, I shall make
Your grumbling guts and gizzards ache,
If e'er again ye dare to fratch
With him who is your overmatch;
For all the underlings o' the sky
When I begin to kick must fly. ”

“ Where Jove, t' enjoy the breezes cool,
Was set upon a three-legg'd stool.
Juno now pulls, and swears, and curses,
But yet could hardly stop the horses;
Then, as she always us'd to do,
Falls at him like a vixen shrew:
To see that Mars rebel, I wonder
You can't find bus'ness for your thunder:
But here you sit and crack your jokes,
To see him smash such heaps of folks.
Look down but where yon' Greeks are laid,
You'll see what work the dog has made.
E'en Venus and Apollo, you know,
Are making faces now at Juno. ”

“ Which Iris with new clover feeds;
When Venus to her mammy ran,
To make complaint about this man:
She rais'd her in her arms, quite sick,
And ask'd her where she got that prick.
No god, quoth she, hath done this hurt,
It was a thing made up of dirt;
A mortal rogue, call'd Diomede,
Has made the queen of beauty bleed;
'Gainst Troy they think they've so much odds,
They'll fight both them, and all their gods.
Dione thus: Have patience, daughter,
Fretting will never mend the matter.
The gods give plague enough to man,
And they return it when they can. ”

“ Thus Greeks and Trojans on a sudden
Tumble like slices of the pudding,
Give and receive most hearty thwacks,
Yet never think to turn their backs,
But scratch, and bite, and tear, and kick,
Like two boar-cats hung 'cross a stick.
Discord, the wrangling lawyer's friend,
Did on this dreadful broil attend;
But all the rest above the moon,
Though they were willing, durst as soon
Run to Old Nick as venture down:
But though confin'd to keep their places,
They made abominable faces,
Whilst all the time their guts were grumbling
At Jove, for keeping Troy from tumbling. ”

“ Hector replies in sober sadness:
You'd make a man eat hay for madness;
Blast your long jaws, you conj'ring knave,
Is this the best advice you have?
You know much better things, I'm clear,
But dare not speak your mind for fear.
Did not Jove send down Madam Iris,
The rainbow wench, whose tail on fire is,
To tell us we their bones should thwack?
Then who the devil would turn back?
Did not his rusty bomb-shell roll
Till it half crack'd his mustard-bowl;
And all the noise was to the right,
Only to egg us on to fight? ”

“ 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. ”

“ I suffer harmless Troy to tumble,
To stop your everlasting grumble.
I tell thee, brim, of all I know
In heav'n above, or earth below,
Bastards of mortal rogues or gods,
I value Troy the most by odds:
No men on earth deserve my favour
Like Trojan boys, for good behaviour;
Because, whene'er they pay their vows,
They kill good store of bulls and cows;
Nor do they ever grudge the least,
To lend their daughters to the priest;
From whence it cannot be deny'd,
But true religion is their guide.
Juno, like puppet, rolls her eyes,
And, meditating, thus replies ”

“ Just slightly ask, What news from Troy?
When thus unlucky Jove, for fun,
To vex his ox-ey'd wife, begun:
Two scolding brims of royal blood
Assist the Greeks—if not, they should;
But, perch'd above, like daws they sit,
Nor they to help their friends think fit;
But, suff'ring Greece to go to ruin,
Content themselves with mischief brewing;
Whilst grateful Venus in the throng,
To aid her lecher, scours along;
With nimble bum, or nimbler wrist,
She guides his weapon where she list;
Knowing a touch of her soft hand,
If fallen down, will make him stand. ”

“ And claim the greatest profit by't.
Great Agamemnon safer goes,
To rob his friends than plunder foes:
And he who dares to contradict
Is sure to have his pockets pick'd:
Hear then, you pilfering dirty cur,
Whose thieving makes so great a stir;
And let the crowd about us hear
What I by this same truncheon swear,
Which to the tree whereon it grew
Will never join, nor I with you,
The devil fetch me if I do!
Therefore, I say, by this same stick,
Expect no more I'll come i' th' nick
Your luggs to save: let Hector souse ye,
And with his trusty broomshaft douse ye. ”

“ When I and Juno come to fight 'em;
The devil's in't if we can't fright 'em;
And ten to one, but in a crack
We'll lay this Broughton on his back.
But if, in spite of all our cracks,
He lays us both upon our backs,
As things go now, the swagg'ring devil
Will scarce have time to be uncivil:
And if he has, his whoring sconce
Can only trim us one at once;
So whilst one gets her bus'ness done,
The other will have time to run.
Her voice then ceas'd through rage and spleen,
Whilst Jove's eternal scolding queen
Lent the poor Trojans fifty curses,
Before she went to fetch her horses ”

“ That all their mirth was well nigh drowned
Their knives and forks they every one
Before their greasy plates laid down;
Each mouth was ready cock'd, to beg
Leave to depart, and make a leg;
When Juno's son, ycleped Vulcan,
A special fellow at a full can,
Who was of handicrafts the top,
And kept a noted blacksmith's shop,
Where he made nets, steel caps, and thunder,
And finish'd potlids to a wonder;
He, finding things were going wrong,
And that they'd fall by th' ears ere long,
Starts up, and in a merry strain
Hammer'd a speech from his own brain. ”

“ And Troy as surely run away,
But wisely Helenus prepares
To mend their bitter bad affairs,
And bring 'em (since they durst not stand)
Out of this scrape by slight-of-hand.
When thus to Hector and Æneas
He tells his mind: Old friends, you see us
Sorely put to't; but yet 'tis true,
The gods have left it all to you
To bring us off; for, at this pinch,
The de'il a god will stir an inch,
But now look on in expectation
That you yourself, on this occasion,
Will try your utmost strength and cunning,
To stop your ragged rogues from running. ”

“ Like grasshoppers they sat i' th' sun,
Telling strange tales of ancient fun;
And, in a feeble hollow tone,
Repeated what great feats they'd done;
How they had thrum'd the maids of Troy,
When Adam was a little boy:
At Helen's shapes they shook their wings;
What could they more? they had no stings.
No wonder, 'faith, they cry, that Greece
Should fight for such a tempting piece;
The man that Helen's ringlets touzes,
Can never grudge a thousand bruises;
But since 'tis o'er with us long since,
'Tis best to send the brimstone hence:
If she stays here, Troy tumbles down ”

“ Paris, as certain as I live,
Would any sum of money give.
Such a bold push must sure be crown'd
With ten, at least, or twenty pound:
Don't gape and stare, for now or never
You gain or lose the cash for ever:
But first, to th' Lycian archer pay
(By most he's call'd the god of day)
A ram; this same unerring spark
Can guide thy arrow to its mark:
'Tis highly necessary this,
Or two to one your aim you'll miss.
Like gunpowder, the thick-skull'd elf
Took fire, and up he blew himself:
Then fitting to his bow the string,
He swore, by Jove, he'd do the thing. ”

“ And ere he made an end o' th' song,
Their faces grew a full yard long;
But yet their comfort was, that all
The race of whoring Troy would fall.
Pallas so much with wrath was gor'd,
She could not speak a single word:
But Juno's passion was so strong
She could not hold her noisy tongue;
So, scolding at her usual rate,
She thus attack'd her loving mate:
You know you're stronger far than all us,
Or else such names you durst not call us,
But split me if I don't believe
You swinge the Greeks to make us grieve! ”

“ Fetch my lord B—-th's black soul from hell,
As venture into any place
Where I may see his ugly face—
For, if he does, by G-d, I'll fell him!
And that, Ulysses, you may tell him;
And add, I neither will collogue
Nor fight along with such a rogue.
Let the poor dog, since Jove deprives him
Of sense, run where the devil drives him:
A man may be bamboozled once,
As I was, by a thick-skull'd dunce ”

“ For counsel good no honest fellow
Can give, if he is more than mellow:
With mod'rate share of meat and drink
They'll freely chatter what they think,
And, like a City congregation
Who meet sometimes for the good o' th' nation,
Some one, before the close of night,
May blunder on a thing that's right.
See but yon Trojan fires so near us!
If we but sneeze, they overhear us;
Whilst then so nigh our boats they keep,
The devil fetch me if I'll sleep!
To-morrow morn begins the jumble,
Where Troy must fall, or Greece must tumble. ”

“ Kick'd the poor rogues by dozens down.
Now Pandarus was stung to th' quick
To see the knave thus bounce and kick;
With all his might his bow he bent,
And a sharp-pointed arrow sent,
Which lent his shoulder such a thump,
As made the busy varlet jump;
One hair-breadth farther had he shot.
The Greek had surely gone to pot:
When Pandarus, brimful of joy,
Roars out, Look here, ye sons of Troy,
And view this mighty Grecian fighter;
I've made the dog some ounces lighter:
Kill him, if you dare venture near him;
But as it is you need not fear him ”

“ To punish rogues in grain refuses,
And thus his loving wife abuses:
Though, if the gods will take my side,
In spite of Jove I'll trim their hide.
At this same speech you cannot wonder
The thunder-driver look'd like thunder:
He wav'd his locks, and fit to choke
With rage, he to his vixen spoke:
Why, how now, hussy! whence this hate
To Priam and the Trojan state?
Can mortal scoundrels thee perplex,
And the great brim of brimstones vex,
That thou should'st make such woeful pother,
And Troy's whole race desire to smother ”

“ Where Teucer stood with both th' Ajaces,
Fighting like devils on a row;
To whom he roars, So-ho, So-ho!
But might as well have say'd his wind
To cool his pottage; for we find
The clatt'ring cudgels make such noise
As would have drown'd old Stentor's voice,
Full on the walls their broomstaves bump,
And on the gates their brickbats thump,
Making such fearful din and rout,
Jove's thunder seem'd but farting to't.
When thus Menestheus speaks to Thoos;
Those Lycian rogues to hell will blow us,
If you don't run and tell th' Ajaces,
How lamentably bad our case is ”

“ Down to the boats.—Æneas brags
All Europe cannot match these nags:
Jove gave 'em to the duke of Troy,
Because he stole his little boy;
Childers or Conqueror cannot
Gallop so fast as they can trot;
The swiftest tits of earthly seed,
Compar'd with these, are dung-cart breed.
Anchises, like a cunning elf,
Brought mares to cover for himself;
Four in his stalls are feeding now
On barley-straw, besides these two
That draw Æneas: could we catch 'em,
Not all our Grecian scrubs can match 'em.
Whilst thus they talk'd they both came on,
And Pandarus the first begun
Well met, my buff! ”

“ Made a strong push at madam Juno,
And gave her as much pain, she said,
As when she lost her maidenhead.
Nor could black Pluto, though a devil,
Make bully Hercules be civil:
But he, as ancient stories tell,
Kick'd this great devil out of hell,
Who, finding home was not secure
From kicks and bruises, ran for cure
To heaven, where Peon rubb'd the chief
With nothing but a plantain leaf,
Which cur'd his batter'd ribs so well,
He tripp'd it back quite sound to hell.
This Diomede was urg'd by Pallas,
Who cares not if he comes to th' gallows ”