T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
The Tinker
Anonymous(Another version; from Merry Drollery, 1661) |
THERE 1 was a Lady in this Land | |
That loved a Gentleman, | |
And could not have him secretly, | |
As she would now and then, | |
Till she devised to dress him like | 5 |
A Tinker in Vocation: | |
And thus, disguised, she bid him say, | |
He came to clout her Cauldron. | |
His face full fair she smothers black | |
That he might not be known, | 10 |
A leather Jerkin on his back, | |
His breeches rent and torn; | |
With speed he passed to the place, | |
To knock he did not spare: | |
Who’s that, quoth the lady[’s Porter] then, | 15 |
That raps so rashly there. | |
I am a Tinker, then quoth he, | |
That worketh for my Fee, | |
If you have Vessels for to mend, | |
Then bring them unto me: | 20 |
For I have brass within my bag, | |
And target in my Apron, | |
And with my skill I can well clout, | |
And mend a broken Cauldron. | |
Quoth she, our Cauldron hath most need, | 25 |
At it we will begin, | |
For it will hold you half an hour | |
To trim it out and in: | |
But first give me a glass of drink, | |
The best that we do use, | 30 |
For why it is a Tinker’s guise | |
No good drink to refuse. | |
Then to the Brew-house hyed they fast, | |
This broken piece to mend, | |
He said he would no company, | 35 |
His Craft should not be kend, | |
But only to your self, he said, | |
That must pay me my Fee: | |
I am no common Tinker, | |
But work most curiously. | 40 |
And I also have made a Vow, | |
I’ll keep it if I may, | |
There shall no mankind see my work, | |
That I may stop or stay: | |
Then barred he the Brew-house door, | 45 |
The place was very dark, | |
He cast his Budget from his back, | |
And frankly fell to work. | |
And whilst he played and made her sport, | |
Their craft the more to hide, | 50 |
She with his hammer stroke full hard | |
Against the Cauldron side: | |
Which made them all to think, and say, | |
The Tinker wrought apace, | |
And so be sure he did indeed, | 55 |
But in another place. | |
The Porter went into the house, | |
Where Servants used to dine, | |
Telling his Lady, at the Gate | |
There stayed a Tinker fine: | 60 |
Quoth he, much Brass he wears about, | |
And Target in his Apron, | |
Saying, that he hath perfect skill | |
To mend your broken Cauldron. | |
Quoth she, of him we have great need, | 65 |
Go Porter, let him in, | |
If he be cunning in his Craft | |
He shall much money win: | |
But wisely wist she who he was, | |
Though nothing she did say, | 70 |
For in that sort she pointed him | |
To come that very day. | |
When he before the Lady came, | |
Disguised stood he there, | |
He blinked blithly, and did say, | 75 |
God save you Mistris fair; | |
Thou’rt welcome, Tinker, unto me, | |
Thou seem’st a man of skill, | |
All broken Vessels for to mend, | |
Though they be ne’er so ill; | 80 |
I am the best man of my Trade, | |
Quoth he, in all this Town, | |
For any Kettle, Pot, or Pan, | |
Or clouting of a Cauldron. | |
Quoth he, fair Lady, unto her, | 85 |
My business I have ended, | |
Go quickly now, and tell your Lord | |
The Cauldron I have mended: | |
As for the Price, that I refer | |
Whatsoever he do say, | 90 |
Then come again with diligence, | |
I would I were away. | |
The Lady went unto her Lord, | |
Where he walked up and down, | |
Sir, I have with the Tinker been, | 95 |
The best in all the Town: | |
His work he doth exceeding well, | |
Though he be wondrous dear, | |
He asks no less than half a Mark | |
For that he hath done here. | 100 |
Quoth he, that Target is full dear, | |
I swear by God’s good Mother: | |
Quoth she, my Lord, I dare protest, | |
’Tis worth five-hundred other; | |
He strook it in the special place, | 105 |
Where greatest need was found, | |
Spending his brass and target both, | |
To make it safe and sound. | |
Before all Tinkers in the Land, | |
That travels up and down, | 110 |
Ere they should earn a Groat of mine, | |
This man should earn a Crown: | |
Or were you of his Craft so good, | |
And none but I it kend, | |
Then would it save me many a Mark, | 115 |
Which I am fain to spend. | |
The Lady to her Coffer went, | |
And took a hundred Mark, | |
And gave the Tinker for his pains, | |
That did so well his work; | 120 |
Tinker, said she, take here thy fee, | |
Sith here you’ll not remain, | |
But I must have my Cauldron now | |
Once scoured o’er again. | |
Then to the former work they went, | 125 |
No man could them deny; | |
The Lady said, good Tinker call | |
The next time thou com’st by: | |
For why, thou dost thy work so well, | |
And with so good invention, | 130 |
If still thou hold thy hand alike, | |
Take here a yearly Pension. | |
And ev’ry quarter of the year | |
Our Cauldron thou shalt view; | |
Nay, by my faith, her Lord gan say, | 135 |
I’d rather buy a new; | |
Then did the Tinker take his leave | |
Both of the Lord and Lady; | |
And said, such work as I can do, | |
To you I will be ready. | 140 |
From all such Tinkers of the trade | |
God keep my Wife, I pray, | |
That comes to clout her Cauldron so, | |
I’ll swing him if I may. |
Note 1. Some of these verses are evidently misplaced. They are printed unchanged. [back] |