The Sot-weed Factor | Page 3

Ebenezer Cook
I was able.?So after hearty Entertainment,?Of Drink and Victuals without Payment;?For Planters Tables, you must know,?Are free for all that come and go.?While (i) Pon and Milk, with (k) Mush well stoar'd,?In Wooden Dishes grac'd the Board;?With (l) Homine and Syder-pap,?(Which scarce a hungry dog wou'd lap)?Well stuff'd with Fat from Bacon fry'd,?Or with _Mollossus_ dulcify'd.?Then out our Landlord pulls a Pouch,?As greasy as the Leather Couch?On which he sat, and straight begun?To load with Weed his _Indian_ Gun;?In length, scarce longer than one's Finger.?His Pipe smoak'd out with aweful Grace,?With aspect grave and solemn pace;?The reverend Sire walks to a Chest,?Of all his Furniture the best,?Closely confined within a Room,?Which seldom felt the weight of Broom;?From thence he lugs a Cag of Rum,?And nodding to me, thus begun:?I find, says he, you don't much care?For this our _Indian_ Country Fare;
But let me tell you, Friend of mine,?You may be glad of it in time,?Tho' now your Stomach is so fine;?And if within this Land you stay,?You'll find it true what I do say.?This said, the Rundlet up he threw,?And bending backwards strongly drew:?I pluck'd as stoutly for my part,?Altho' it made me sick at Heart,?And got so soon into my Head?I scarce cou'd find my way to Bed;?Where I was instantly convey'd?By one who pass'd for Chamber-Maid,?Tho' by her loose and sluttish Dress,?She rather seemed a _Bedlam-Bess_:?Curious to know from whence she came,?I prest her to declare her Name.?She Blushing, seem'd to hide her Eyes,?And thus in Civil Terms replies;?In better Times, e'er to this Land,?I was unhappily Trapann'd;
Perchance as well I did appear,?As any Lord or Lady here,?Not then a Slave for twice two (m) Year.?My Cloaths were fashionably new,?Nor were my Shifts of Linnen Blue;?But things are changed, now at the Hoe,?I daily work, and Bare-foot go,?In weeding Corn or feeding Swine,?I spend my melancholy Time.?Kidnap'd and Fool'd, I hither fled,?To shun a hated Nuptial (n) Bed,?And to my cost already find,?Worse Plagues than those I left behind.?Whate'er the Wanderer did profess,?Good-faith I cou'd not chuse but guess?The Cause which brought her to this place,?Was supping e'er the Priest laid Grace.?Quick as my Thoughts, the Slave was fled,?(Her Candle left to shew my Bed)?Which made of Feathers soft and good,?Close in the (o) Chimney-corner stood;?I threw me down expecting Rest,?To be in golden Slumbers blest:?But soon a noise disturb'd my quiet,?And plagu'd me with nocturnal Riot;?A Puss which in the ashes lay,?With grunting Pig began a Fray;?And prudent Dog, that feuds might cease,?Most strongly bark'd to keep the Peace.?This Quarrel scarcely was decided,?By stick that ready lay provided;?But _Reynard_, arch and cunning Loon,?Broke into my Appartment soon:?In hot pursuit of Ducks and Geese,?With fell intent the same to seize:?Their Cackling Plaints with strange surprize,?Chac'd Sleep's thick Vapours from my Eyes;?Raging I jump'd upon the Floar,?And like a Drunken Saylor Swore;?With Sword I fiercely laid about,?And soon dispers'd the Feather'd Rout?The Poultry out of Window flew,?And _Reynard_ cautiously withdrew:?The Dogs who this Encounter heard,?Fiercely themselves to aid me rear'd,?And to the Place of Combat run,?Exactly as the Field was won.?Fretting and hot as roasting Capon,?And greasy as a Flitch of Bacon;?I to the Orchard did repair,?To Breathe the cool and open Air;?Expecting there the rising Day,?Extended on a Bank I lay;
But Fortune here, that fancy Whore,?Disturb'd me worse and plagu'd me more,?Than she had done the night before:?Hoarse croaking (p) Frogs did 'bout me ring,?Such Peals the Dead to Life wou'd bring,?A Noise might move their Wooden King.?I stuffed my Ears with Cotten white,?For fear of being deaf out-right,?And curst the melancholy Night;?But soon my Vows I did recant,?And Hearing as a Blessing grant;?When a confounded Rattle-Snake,?With hissing made my Heart to ake:?Not knowing how to fly the Foe,?Or whither in the Dark to go;?By strange good Luck, I took a Tree,?Prepar'd by Fate to set me free;
Where riding on a Limb a stride,?Night and the Branches did me hide,?And I the Devil and Snake defy'd.?Not yet from Plagues exempted quite,?The curst Muskitoes did me bite;?Till rising Morn' and blushing Day,?Drove both my Fears and Ills away;?And from Night's Errors set me free.?Discharg'd from hospitable Tree;
I did to Planter's Booth repair,?And there at Breakfast nobly Fare?On rashier broil'd of infant Bear:?I thought the Cub delicious Meat,?Which ne'er did ought but Chesnuts eat;?Nor was young Orsin's flesh the worse,?Because he sucked a Pagan Nurse.?Our Breakfast done, my Landlord stout,?Handed a Glass of Rum about;?Pleas'd with the Treatment I did find,?I took my leave of Oast so kind;?Who to oblige me, did provide,?His eldest son to be my Guide,
And lent me Horses of his own,?A skittish Colt, and aged Rhoan,?The four-leg'd prop of his Wife _Joan_:?Steering our Barks in Trot or Pace,?We sail'd directly for a place?In _Mary-Land_, of high renown,?Known by the Name of Battle-Town.
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