The Dub'd Knight
Of the Forked Order.
OR,
The old wanton Lady as I will recite,
And Sen John the Serving-Man her hearts delight,
Their doings and actions, If you will attend,
In Meeter, they are by a Poet Pen'd.
The subtilty of women either old or young,
And what cunning excuses they have with their tongue,
That will play with their Husbands and laugh them to scorn,
Stroke up there brows, and there place a horn.
The Tune is, I am fallen away.
|
TWas a Lady born
|
of high degree,
|
In her aged days
|
was youthful, yet she,
|
So youthful was
|
at threescore years old,
|
A young Man she esteemed
|
more precious then Gold:
|
So old, so old,
|
so wondrous old,
|
Till threescore years and ten
|
Old women are wi[l]ling
|
to play with young Men.
|
This Lady one day
|
in her Parlor did walk,
|
Unto her head-serving-man
|
she began to talk,
|
She told him his feature
|
was comely and rare,
|
Few men that she lookt on
|
might with him compare,
|
So old, etc.
|
A Lily-white hand
|
fair face and a nose.
|
Hair crisping and curled
|
his breath like a Rose,
|
Streight leg and a foot
|
and his body tall,
|
But that in the middle
|
is the rarest of all,
|
So old etc.
|
Madam he said,
|
as I am alive,
|
Unto an antient Lady
|
a present revive:
|
It will make them merry
|
either at night or by day,
|
And clear every Vain
|
like the dew of May.
|
So old, so old,
|
so wondrous old,
|
Till threescore years and ten,
|
Old women are willing
|
to play with young Men.
|
THen note what I say
|
and obey my command,
|
For I'le make use of thee,
|
now straight out of hand,
|
The bargain was made
|
unto their own Will,
|
The Serving-man had
|
and the Lady her fill:
|
So old, etc.
|
When the Jig was ended,
|
the Lady threw down,
|
Unto her good Serving-man,
|
sevenscore pound:
|
She gave this Gold freely,
|
his courage to maintain,
|
That he will but Ride
|
in the Saddle again:
|
So old, etc.
|
Then the wanton Lady
|
to her Knight she did hye,
|
And like to Ameretrix
|
she did reply,
|
That she was much alter'd,
|
and she had caught harm,
|
Why then quoth the Knight;
|
Lady keep thyself warm;
|
So old, etc.
|
I'le send for a Doctor
|
the grief for to find,
|
For to ease thy body,
|
and troubled mind;
|
I will have no Doctor
|
my grief for to ease,
|
But only one Man
|
sweet-heart if you please:
|
So old, etc.
|
Let me see this Artist,
|
the Knight did reply,
|
O quoth the Lady,
|
loe here he stands by;
|
That can give me cure
|
with a Syrup that he,
|
Brought from the Venetian
|
and from Italy;
|
So old, etc.
|
How came you acquainted
|
with your Mans rarity?
|
Sir, in a sad passion,
|
being ready to dye,
|
I dream'd that his judgement
|
was right I do find,
|
And his physick was health-ful
|
to old Women kind.
|
So old, etc.
|
And if by the vertue
|
thou pleasure do find,
|
I doubt then by Venus
|
that I am made blind;
|
I dream'd I was hunting
|
and pleasure did see,
|
But a vision mine eyes
|
much troubleth me,
|
So old, etc.
|
The Deer did run swiftly,
|
and Hounds after rang'd
|
And I like Actoon
|
most strangely was chang'd
|
I though that my lower part
|
seem'd like a Man,
|
My head like a Buck,
|
and Horns like a Ram,
|
So old, etc.
|
And riding on swiftly,
|
sweet pleasure to find,
|
An Oke burst my horns
|
& his blood made me blind,
|
The Huntsman did hollow,
|
and great shouts did make,
|
And forth of my dream,
|
I strait did awake:
|
So old, etc.
|
I told my fair Lady
|
of my dream so strange,
|
Quoth she 'tis the better
|
when thy Life doth change;
|
For the Forked Order
|
the evil doth expel,
|
And being a dub'd Knight,
|
thou need'st not fear Hell.
|
So old, etc.
|
From the Poor to the Rich,
|
even to the Ladies Gay,
|
Young Women are wanton
|
old Women will play:
|
And mumble their Husbands
|
and jeer them to scorn,
|
And point them a Beaker
|
and give them a Horn:
|
So old, so old,
|
so wondrous old,
|
Till threescore years and ten,
|
Old Women are willing
|
to play with young Men.
|
|
|
|
|
|