He croffed hath this, and cke he croffed that,
With benedicite and God knows what.

Now he goeth to bed and lieth adown,

When the clock had just fricken the twelfth foun.
Bethinketh him now what the caufe had yben,
Why many fprites by mortals have been seen.
Hem remembreth how Dan Plutarch hath yfed
That Cefar's fprite came to Brute his bed;
Of chains that frighten erft Artemidore,
The tales of Pline, Valere, and many more.
Hem thinketh that fome murdere here been done,
And he mought fee fome bloodye ghost anone,
Or that fome orphlines writings here be flor'd,
Or pot of gold laine deep beneath a board :
Or thinketh hem, if he might fee no fprite,
The Abbaye mought buy this houfe cheap outright.
As hem thus thinketh, anone afleep he lies,
Up farten Sathanas with faucer eyes.
He turned the Freer upon his face downright,
Difplaying his nether cheeks full broad and white.
Then quoth Dan Sathanas as he thwacked him fore,
Thou didft forget to guard thy postern-door.
There is an hole which hath not croiled been :
Farewel, from whence I came, I creepen in.
Now plain it is ytellen in my verfe,

If Devils in hell bear Freers in their erfe,
On earth the Devil in Freets doth ydwell;

Were there no Ficers, the Devil mought keep in Hell.

WORK FOR A COOPER.
A TAL E.

AMAN may lead a happy life,

Without that needful thing a wife:

This long have lufty Abbots known,
Who ne'er knew fpoufes of their own.
What though your house be clean and neat,
With couches, chairs, and beds compleat;
Though you each day invite a friend,
Though he fhould every difh commend;
On Bagthot heath your mutton fed,
Your fowls at Brentford born and bred;
Though pureft wine your cellars boaft,
Wine worthy of the fairest toaft;
Yet there are other things requir'd:
Ring, and let 's fee the maid you hir'd.
Blefs me! thofe hands might hold a broom,
Twirle round a mop, and wash a room:
A batchelor his maid fhould keep,
Not for that fervile ufe to fweep;
Let her his humour understand,
And turn to every thing her hand.
Get you a lafs that 's young and tight,
Whole arms are, like her apton, white.
What though her thift be feldom feen,
Let that, though coarfe, be always clean;
She might each morn your tea attend,
And on your writt your ruille mend;

Then

Then, if you break a roguifh jeft,

Or fqueeze her hand, or pat her breast,
She cries, Oh, dear Sir, don't be naught !
And blufhes fpeak her laft night's fault.
To her your houthold cares confide,
Let your keys jingle at her fide.

A footman's blunders teaze and fret ye;
Ev'n while you chide, you fmile on Betty.
Difcharge him then, if he's too fpruce;
For Betty's for his master's ufe.

Will you your amorous fancy baulk,
For fear fome prolith neighbour talk?
But you object, that you 're afraid
Of the pert freedoms of a maid,
Befides, your wifer heads will fay,
That the who turns her hand this way,.
From one vice to another drawn,
Will lodge your filver-spoons in pawn.
Has not the homely wrinkled jade
More need to learn the pilfering trade?
For love all Betty's wants fupplics,
Laces her thnes, her manteau dyes,
All her fluff-fuits the flings away,
And wears thread-fattin every day.

Who then a dirty drab would hite,
Brown as the hearth of kitchen fire;
When all mußt own, were Hetty put
To the black duties of the flut,
As well the fcours or fcrubs a floor,
And fill is good for fomething more?

Thus, to avoid the greater vice,
I knew a Prieft, of confcience nice,
To quell his luft for neighbour's fpoufe,.
Keep fornication in his houfe.

But your 're impatient all this time,
Fret at my counfel, curfe my rhyme.
Be fatisfy'd I'll talk no more,
For thus my tale begins-Of yore
There dwelt at Blois a Pricft full fair,
With rolling eye and crifped hair;
His chin hung low, his brow was fleek,
Plenty lay basking on his cheek;
Whole days at cloyfter-grates he fate,
Ogled, and talk'd of this and that
So feelingly, the Nuns lamented
That double-bars were e'er invented.
If he the wanton wife confeft,

With downcaft eye, and heaving breast;
He ftroak'd her cheek to fill her fear,
And talk'd of fins en cavalier;

Each time enjoin'd, her penance mild,
And fondled on her like his child.
At every jovial goffip's feaft

Pere Bernard was a welcome guest;
Mirth fuffer'd not the leaft reftraint,
He could at will shake off the faint;
Nor frown'd he when they freely spoke,
But fhook his fides, and took the joke;
Nor fail'd he to promote the jeft,
And fhar'd the fins which they confeft.

Yet

Yet, that he might not always roam,
He kept conveniencies at home.
His maid was in the bloom of beauty,
Well-limb'd for every focial duty;
He meddled with no houfhold cares,
To her confign'd his whole affairs:
She of his ftudy kept the keys,
For he was ftudious-of his cafe :
She had the power of all his locks,
Could rummage every cheft and box;
Her honefly fuch credit gain'd,
Not ev'n the cellar was reftrain'd.
In troth it was a goodly fhow,
Lin'd with full hogfheads all a-row.
One vellel, from the rank remov'd,
Far dearer than the reft he lov'd;
Pour la bonne bouche 'twas fet afide,
To all but choiceft friends deny'd.
He now and then would fend a quart,
To warm fome wife's retentive heart,
Against confeflion's fullen hour:
Wine has all fecrets in its power.
At common feats it had been wafte,
Nor was it fit for layman's tafle.
If monk or friar were his gueft,
They drank it, for they know the best.
Nav, he at length fo fond was grown,
He always drank it when-alone.
Who fhall recount his civil labours,
In pious vifits to his neighbours ?