Punch (20.1851)

132

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

TAKING THE VEIL.

AD YE BLANCHE was a mayden of lofty degree,

And a pretty goode waye from her majoritye ;
i Ladye Blanche was an heiress, and worth, I '11 bee bounde,
I Yff a dumpe, at the leest ninetye thousande good pounde.

Shee was left by her uncle, Syr Hildebrand Hunk.es,
Ail the cashe he had gott in his coffers and trunkes,
And noe end of broad acres were added thereto,
| By the wyll of her grandam the old Lady Screwe.

Ladye Blanche was ryght comely and fayre to beholde,
To the boote of her parkes and her manours and golde,
Ye may thinke soche a damsel was counted a catche,
That wolde make any knyghte a ryghte excellent matche.

But not onely the knyghtes, but the preests and the monkes
Had a view to the neece of Syr Hildebrand Hunkes ;
And they turned up their eyes, like as dying duckes doe,
At the syghte of the grandchylde of old Lady Screwe.

Like a merry young mayd that grete riches was worth,

She wolde hawke and wolde hunte, and loved all kynd of mirthe ;

Play'd the virginals, sang, unto tourneys wolde goe,

And a dancing byde up, sometimes nigh to cock-crow.

But full sooth is the sawe, and the saying is true,
That too moche of a good thinge ytt doeth not doe,
Bye-and-bye Ladye Blanche of her pastyme did tire,
Songe and dance, merlin, palfrey, knyght, poodyl and squire.

Her ail the leech wist not, but scratchyd his pate,
Peradventure her boddyce, he sayd, was too strait,
He dyd thynke change of livinge and ayr were her needes,
Soe she wente for to staye with the Countess de Beades.

Nowe the poor Earl de Beades was a Papyste devoute,
And his mother, methinkes, lytle knew he was out.
He was ruled by his preestes, and believed all they tolde,
As yff holding it good to be cozened and solde.

.All this straungeness and marvel was pleasau' and newe
To the damsel besett with the devylls of blue ;
And the lyf'e did soe differ from that she had past
That she found ytt quite jollye to watche and o faste.

Trust the preests and the fryars, they wolde not let slip
Through their fyngers a prize like her young ladyeschipp .
What'with scaring aud coaxyng—to make a short tale—
They at last dydled Blanche into takyng the vayle.