Читать книгу Lays of Ancient Babyland to which are added Small Divers Histories not known to the Ancients - Richard Trott Fisher - Страница 4
ОглавлениеWhittington and his Cat.
| GOD prosper long our good Lord Mayor,And give him wealth and wit!A little wisdom too mote wellHis judgement-seat befit.Come listen all ye prentice lads,Sore set to drudge and fast,How that good luck and industrieWill make a man at last. | |
| Whittington, | When our third Edward ruled the land,A king of glorious fame,An humble boy there lived also,Dick Whittington by name. |
| an orphan boy, | His father and his mother tooWere laid beneath the sod:But he was left, and all aloneThe path of misery trod. |
| destitute, | No woollen hose wore he, nor shoesUpon his shivering feet;A tatter’d cloak was all he hadTo ward the rain and sleet. |
| Yet, though his breast was cold without,His heart was warm within;And he grumbled not, for well he wotThat envy is a sin. | |
| but industrious, | And he would fight with all his mightTo earn his daily bread:Alas, to think how oft he wentAll supperless to bed! |
| had heard great reports of London. | Now he had heard of London town,And what the folks did there:How aldermen did eat and drink,And plenty had to spare. |
| And how the streets were full of shops,And shops were full of food;Of beef, and mutton, cheese and ham,And every thing that’s good. | |
| And how the men and women allWere lords and ladies there;And little boys were rigg’d as smartAs monkeys at a fair. | |
| But what most wonderful did seem,Of all he had heard told,Was how the streets of that great townWere paved with solid gold. | |
| Resolved to get there, | Heyday! thought he, if only ICould get to that fine place!’Twould not be long ere I would changeMy miserable case. |
| he makes his way on foot. | Now started off for London townBefore the break of day,He fared beside a waggonerWho drove his team that way. |
| All day they trudged until the sunHad sunk behind the hill;And when he rose again next mornHe saw them trudging still. | |
| His joy to behold that land of plenty. | At length a multitudinous smokeHid half th’ horizon round:And such a sight of chimney-pots!Dick gaped with joy and stound. |
| He thought how often he had lainBeneath the cold damp air;While here was house-room sure for all,And fires i’faith to spare. | |
| ’Twere hard indeed if one should needA chimney-corner here:And from the drays that block’d the waysSmall lack could be of beer. | |
| ’Twas thus thought Dick, and so full quickThe waggoner he left;And was not long, ere thro’ the throngHis nimble way he cleft. | |
| His subsequent disappointment; | Thro’ street, thro’ lane, full fast he ran;But marvell’d to beholdThe ways all strown with dirt and stone,And not with solid gold. |
| And folks were not all lords he thought,Nor ladies of degree:For here were rags, and here were tags,As in his own countrie. | |
| when hungry and cold, | Yet, where such plenty seem’d of allA hungry lad mote need,Tho’ rags were there he did not care:He could not fail to speed. |
| he is neither fed by the victualler; | So at a shop he made a stop:Before his well-spread boardThe vict’ller stood, in jolly mood;Dick thought he was a lord. |
| In cap ydight and waistcoat whiteHe beckon’d folks within;While fumes arose to tell the noseOf all that savoury bin. | |
| Dick’s joy was great to see the meat;So in he ran with haste:Alas! roast beef is nought but griefTo such as may not taste. | |
| The vict’ller’s eye right scornfullyScann’d Dick from foot to head;Who begg’d, for love of God above,A bit of meat and bread. | |
| “For one small groat it may be bought;“I’faith it is not dear:“But no sirloin withouten coin,“Nor room for beggars here.” | |
| Thereat a pamper’d cur rush’d forthAnd bit Dick’s naked feet:Who by the wrathful victuallerWas shoved into the street. | |
| nor covered by the clothier; | Next shivering in his tatter’d dressHe view’d a clothier’s store;But, as he was all penniless,They drove him from the door. |
| Ah, tradesmen sleek! ah, Christians meek!Why will ye swell with pride,When ragged want or wretched woeStands shivering at your side? | |
| nor even heeded by any body. | Alas, poor boy! what could he do?The busy crowd swept past:But all on self intent, or pelf,No eye on him was cast. |
| He strove to beg: some heard him not,And some would not believe:Some heard him and believed him too,But yet would not relieve. | |
| Want most grievous in the midst of plenty. | Oh! hunger is a galling thing,Where nought is there to eat;But three times more it galleth soreTo starve midst bread and meat. |
| At last he is noticed by a merchant-citizen, | Now just as Dick all spent and sickHad laid him down to die,A citizen of gentle mienIt chanced came walking by. |
| A merchant he of high degree,With ruffles all of lace;And Nature’s true nobilityWas blazon’d in his face. | |
| who takes him home, and feeds him. | He up did pick and home led Dick,And gave him food to eat:Then sent him to a clean warm bed,Not back into the street. |
| “Thank God! for that I pass’d that way“This night,“ the good man cried;“For had I walk’d another way,“Poor boy! he might have died.” | |
| The morning come, Dick early rose,And thank’d him from his heart;And told him how no friend on earthHe had to take his part. | |
| This merchant becomes his friend. | “Then I’m your friend,” the kind man cried,“And you shall live with me:“And you shall tend my merchandize,“And keep my granary.” |
| and employs him in his granary; | How danced for joy the lucky boy,To see his alter’d plight!He watch’d his granary by day,And lock’d it fast by night. |
| Now stored within this granary,Were corn and wine and oil,And cheese and other precious thingsWhich rats and mice do spoil. | |
| where there lived a cat, | So there with Dick ydwelt a cat;A tabby cat was she:As sleek and soft, and eke as fat,As any cat could be. |
| of social temper, | And she about his legs would purr,And on his knees would sit;And every meal he took, for herHe saved a dainty bit. |
| and high quality. | And not a mouse came near her houseBut swallow’d was alive:And not a rat but felt her pat:No wonder she did thrive! |
| The birth of a kitten: | Now scarce three moons had waned and fill’d,Since Dick’s lone hours she cheer’d,When at her side, as Heaven will’d,A kitten there appear’d. |
| and Dick’s twofold delight thereafter. | Then Dick’s delight was doubled quite;For one may well avouch,Whatever fun there was in oneIn two was twice as much. |
| This kitten’s surpassing beauty, | All black and red this kitten’s headLook’d like a polish’d stone:All red and black this kitten’s backLike tortoiseshell it shone. |
| Full sure I am that well its damMight dote on such a kit:The very rats that flee from catsWould stand and stare at it. | |
| and most pleasant humour. | Its tail it whisk’d and leapt and frisk’d,In weather fair and foul:Or cold, or hot, it matter’d notTo such a merry soul. |
| But who could see such joyful gleeAnd not be joyous too?So Dick forgot his sorry lotAnd laugh’d as others do. | |
| Dick acquires his first property. | Which when the merchant saw, and howThe kitten it was grown,Of his free gift to WhittingtonHe gave it for his own. |
