Chapter_180

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Upon my life Sir Nevis I am piqued

That I have so far panted tugg’d and reek’d

To do an honor to your old bald pate

And now am sitting on you just to bait,

Without your paying me one compliment.

Alas, ’tis so with all, when our intent

Is plain, and in the eye of all Mankind

We fair ones show a preference, too blind!

You Gentle man immediately turn tail⁠—

O let me then my hapless fate bewail!

Ungrateful Baldpate have I not disdain’d

The pleasant Valleys⁠—have I not madbrain’d

Deserted all my Pickles and preserves

My China closet too⁠—with wretched Nerves

To boot⁠—say, wretched ingrate, have I not

Left my soft cushion chair and caudle pot?

’Tis true I had no corns⁠—no! thank the fates

My Shoemaker was always Mr. Bates.

And if not Mr. Bates why I’m not old!

Still dumb ungrateful Nevis⁠—still so cold!

Here the Lady took some more whisky and was putting even more to her lips when she dashed it to the Ground, for the Mountain began to grumble⁠—which continued for a few minutes before he thus began⁠—

What whining bit of tongue and Mouth thus dares

Disturb my slumber of a thousand years?

Even so long my sleep has been secure⁠—

And to be so awak’d I’ll not endure.

Oh pain⁠—for since the Eagle’s earliest scream

I’ve had a damn’d confounded ugly dream,

A Nightmare sure. What! Madam, was it you?

It cannot be! My old eyes are not true!

Red-Crag, my Spectacles! Now let me see!

Good Heavens! Lady, how the gemini

Did you get here? O, I shall split my sides!

I shall earthquake⁠—

Sweet Nevis do not quake, for though I love

Your honest Countenance all things above,

Truly I should not like to be convey’d

So far into your Bosom⁠—gentle Maid

Loves not too rough a treatment, gentle Sir⁠—

Pray thee be calm and do not quake nor stir

No, not a Stone, or I shall go in fits⁠—

I must⁠—I shall⁠—I meet not such tit bits⁠—

I meet not such sweet creatures every day⁠—

By my old nightcap night and day

I must have one sweet Buss⁠—I must and shall!

Red Crag!⁠—What! Madam, can you then repent

Of all the toil and vigour you have spent

To see Ben Nevis and to touch his nose?

Red Crag I say! O I must have them close!

Red Crag, there lies beneath my farthest toe

A vein of Sulphur⁠—go, dear Red Crag, go⁠—

And rub your flinty back against it⁠—budge!

Dear Madam, I must kiss you, faith I must!

I must embrace you with my dearest gust!

Block-head, d’ ye hear!⁠—Block-head, I’ll make her feel.

There lies beneath my east leg’s northern heel

A cave of young earth dragons;⁠—well my boy

Go thither quick and so complete my joy.

Take you a bundle of the largest pines,

And when the sun on fiercest Phosphor shines,

Fire them and ram them in the Dragon’s nest,

Then will the dragons fry and fizz their best

Until ten thousand now no bigger than

Poor alligators⁠—poor things of one span⁠—

Will each one swell to twice ten times the size

Of northern whale⁠—then for the tender prize⁠—

The moment then⁠—for then will Red Crag rub

His flinty back⁠—and I shall kiss and snub

And press my dainty morsel to my breast.

Block-head make haste!

O Muses, weep the rest⁠—

The Lady fainted and he thought her dead;

So pulled the clouds again about his head

And went to sleep again; soon she was rous’d

By her affrighted servants⁠—next day, hous’d

Safe on the lowly ground she bless’d her fate

That fainting fit was not delayed too late.

But what surprised me above all is how the lady got down again. I felt it horribly. ’Twas the most vile descent⁠—shook me all to pieces.