Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A MARRIAGE BETWIXT SCRAPE ... AND BLOBBERLIPS ..., SELS, by ALEXANDER PENNECUIK


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A MARRIAGE BETWIXT SCRAPE ... AND BLOBBERLIPS ..., SELS, by                    
First Line: Below fair peebles, on the river's side
Last Line: There they lie.'
Subject(s): Begging & Beggars; Brides; Courts & Courtiers; Marriage; Weddings; Husbands; Wives


BELOW fair Peebles, on the river's side,
The merry beggars were busking a bride,
A gang of strollers acting their freaks,
Gabbling and dancing as merry as Greeks.
In a thicket of trees myself I hid,
Where I heard and saw what the beggars did.

No shelly-coat goblin, or elf on the green,
E'er tripped more nimbly than the beggars' Queen;
Blobberlips the bride did dance and play
(For this, it seems, was her wedding-day).
She was matched to old Scrape, the maunders' King
(This made all the rag-regiment sing),
Who gave her a curch as wide as a hood,
A silver brooch and a silken snood,
A pearled cross-cloth, a woven belt,
A large leathren swag to hold the gelt;
A pair of scissors to clip the plasters
To keep open the wounds which show their disasters;
Needles to sew the passports when torn,
An elchin to cobble the shoes when worn;
A string of beads, a bitch and a kent
(To help her through the bogs and the bent),
A blanket, a pair of new-soled hose,
A mill with snitian to pepper her nose.
'You're Queen of the covey,' says he, 'though in rags;
My fair fuss, you shall carry the bags;
All night you shall lie on pillows of flags.
I've trussed you a lady's shirt from the hedge
(Auld lousy duds gars ay folk fidge).
On pad of bulrushes your buttocks I'll lay,
There sleep and sing till the cock crow day.
Then beg on the way, and rob all we meet,
Steal from the hedge both the shirt and the sheet.
I'll pour on thy pail a pot of good ale,
Laughing like us at ev'ry mail;
On stol'n eggs and butter we'll dine,
My bona roba, in a cloven pine;
With ducklings i' th' season, bacon and pease,
Capons, turkeys and fat dabs of cheese;
I'll learn you to filch a duck or a hen,
Fill the swag with lour, for a bousing ken.

'And a-begging we will go,
And a-begging we will go;
With a pock for our oatmeal,
Another for our rye;
A little bottle by our side,
To drink when we are dry.
And a-begging we will go,' &c.

Blubberlips kissed him ten times and mair;
Cries, 'Blessings lie lurking in his tufts of hair;
Lang grows his beard, thick, forked and fair:
I'll kemb his beard, his whiskers I'll plait;
With feathers of ravens brush his bald pate.
He'll lie on the pad with his dell till she twang,
Let the constable, justice and the d—l go hang.
When we roost in barns, old Chuck will teach us
To cut bien whids and be perfect in crutches,
To clap our fambles, throw up our nab-cheats,
To filch from the hedge both the shirts and the sheets.
The cowlies on the straw with the morties will be glad,
But ilk an must maund on his awn pad:
The doxies turn up their keels and spelder,
Wapping till a kinch twang in the kelder.

'The covey coming by
Will bumbumbis cry,
Hedgehog, toad, beetle,
Dick the jewels,
There they lie.'





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