Sir John Suckling (1609-1641)

Ballad upon a Wedding

(Written upon the occasion of the marriage of Roger Boyle, 1st Earl of Orrery with Lady Margaret Howard, daughter of Theophilus, Earl of Suffolk.)

TELL thee, Dick, where I have been,
Where I the rarest things have seen ;

O, things without compare!

Such sights again cannot be found
In any place on English ground,

Be it at wake or fair.

At Charing Cross, hard by the way,
Where we (thou know'st) do sell our hay,

There is a house with stairs;

And there did I see coming down
Such folks as are not in our town,
Forty, at least, in pairs.

Amongst the rest, one pest'lent fine
(His beard no bigger though than Thine)
Walked on before the rest:

Our landlord looks like nothing to him:
The King (God bless him) 't would undo him,
Should he go still so drest.

At Course-a-Park, without all doubt,
He should have first been taken out
By all the maids i' th' town:
Though lusty Roger there had been,
Or little George upon the Green,
Or Vincent of the Crown.

But, wot you what? the youth was going
To make an end of all his wooing:
The parson for him stay'd:
Yet by his leave (for all his haste)
He did not so much wish all past
(Perchance) as did the maid.

The maid (and thereby hangs a tale,
For such a maid not Whitsun-ale
Could ever yet produce)

No grape, that's kindly ripe, could be
So round, so plump, so soft as she,
Nor half so full of juice.

Her finger was so small, the ring

Would not stay on, which they did bring,

It was too wide a peck:

And to say truth (for out it must)
It looked like the great collar (just)
About our young colt's neck.

Her feet beneath her petticoat,
Like little mice, stole in and out,
As if they fear'd the light:
But O she dances such a way!
No sun upon an Easter day
Is half so fine a sight.

He would have kissed her once or twice
But she would not, she was so nice,
She would not do't in sight,
And then she looked as who should say:

I will do what I list to-day,

And you shall do 't at night.

Her cheeks so rare a white was on,
No daisy makes comparison

(Who sees them is undone),

For streaks of red were mingled there,
Such as are on a Cath'rine pear
(The side that's next the sun).

Her lips were red, and one was thin,
Compared to that was next her chin
(Some bee had stung it newly);

But, Dick, her eyes so guard her face;
I durst no more upon them gaze
Than on the sun in July.

Her mouth so small, when she does speak,

Thou 'dst swear her teeth her words did break,

That they might passage get:

But she so handled still the matter,

They came as good as ours, or better,
And are not spent a whit.

Passion o'me, how I run on!

There's that that would be thought upon

(I trow) besides the bride: The business of the kitchen's great,

For it is fit that man should eat;

Nor was it there denied:

Just in the nick the cook knocked thrice,

And all the waiters in a trice

His summons did obey:

Each serving-man, with dish in hand,
Marched boldly up, like our trained band,
Presented, and away.