* The Duke of York was thought to have an intrigue with
Sir John Denham^s lady.
Sir John Denham^s lady.
Marvell - Poems
Happiest of women if she were but able
To make her glassen Duke once malleable !
Paint her with oyster-lip, and breath of fame,
Wide mouth, that sparagus may well proclaim ;
With chancellor's belly, and so large a rump.
Where (not behind the coach) h(-r pages jump.
Express her studying now, if Clnna clay
Can, without breaking, venomed juice convey :
Or how a mortal poison she may draw
Out of the cordial meal of the cocoa.
Witness ye stars oi' night, and thou the pale
Moon, thato'ercome with the su k steam, didst fail:
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OF MARVELL. 211
Ye neighbVing elms, which your green leaves
did slied,
And fawns which from the womb abortive fled.
Not unprovoked she tries forbidden arts,
But in her soft- breast love's hid cancer smarts,
While she resolves at once Sydney's disgrace.
And herself scorned for emulous Denham's
face ; *
And nightly hears the hated guard, away
Galloping with the Duke to other prey.
Paint Castlemain in colours which will hold
Her, not her picture, for she now grows old.
She through her lackey's drawers, as he ran,
Discerned love's cause, and a new flame began.
Her wonted joys thenceforth, and court, she
shuns,
And still within her mind the footman runs ;
His brazen calves, his brawny thighs, (the face
She slights) his feet shaped for a smoother race !
Then, poring with her glass, she re-adjusts ;
Her locks, and oft-tried beauty now distrusts ;
Feai*s lest he scorned a woman once assayed,
And now fii-st wished she e'er had been a maid.
Great love ! how dost thou triumph, and how
reign.
That to a groom couldst humble her disdain !
* The Duke of York was thought to have an intrigue with
Sir John Denham^s lady.
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212 THE POEMS
Stripped to her skin, see how she stooping
stands,
Nor scorns to rub him down with those fair
hands,
And washing (lest the scent her crime disclose)
His sweaty hoofs, tickles him betwixt the toes.
But envious fame too soon began to note
More gold in 's fob, more lace upon his coat ;
And he unweary, and of tongue too fleet*
No longer could conceal his fortune sweet.
Justly the rogue was whipped in Porter's den,
And Jei*main straight has leave to come again.
Ah Painter ! now could Alexander live.
And this Campaspe the Apelles give ! *
Draw next a pair of tables opening, then
The House of Commons clattering like the men.
Describe the court and country both set right
On opposite points, the black against the white.
Those having lost the nation at tick-tack,
These now adventuring how to win it back.
The dice betwixt them must the fate divide,
As chance does still in multitudes decide.
But here the court doth its advantage know.
For the cheat, Turner, for them both mui^t
throw ;
♦ Campfispe was Alexander's mistress, whom ApelN^s, by
Alexander's command, painted naked, and fell violently in
love with her. Alexander perceived it, and, for fear of any
fatal consequence to ApoUes, gave her to him.
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OF MARVELL. 213
As some from boxes, he so from the chair
Can strike the dice, and still with them have share.