Anonymous - The Boudoir No. 4

I could guess that I should have answered his transports, and that no fear of pain would have prevented me receiving him again! At length a doubt for my future flashed across me, this was not what I had dreamed! Charles went out, saying that he left me to dress, but I had no thought of toilette, and I busied myself in sad thoughts. A well-known loveable voice called me, and Bertha ran to embrace me.

I put my arms round her neck, held her tightly, and began to cry.

"Gracious me! What is the matter, dear child?" she said.

I should not have known how to answer her, as I had no complaint to make, I only felt that I was not loved as I had hoped to be, and that my ardent furnace would never be able to burn freely.

Bertha thought that I was simply hysterical, and calmed me by gentle joking.

My natural gaiety soon got the upper hand; I rose and took a bath that my maid had already prepared.

The day passed slowly, everybody was happy around me; my husband seemed enchanted, he was as tender and gallant as his nature would permit. I was pleased with him, and timidly responded to his distant caresses. Night came; he led me away at an early hour, and we went to bed. Less timid than the night before, he took me in his arms, said that he loved me, and kissed me tenderly. I made bold enough to tell him that I also loved him, and gave him a kiss that electrified him.

Already I felt on my naked thigh something hard that promised much.

As on the preceding evening he placed his lips to my ear, and said: "Shall we do like last night?"

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I very oft have thought why women

Vex'd with green sickness, or when teeming

Should long for plaister, coals, or chalk,

And pine if we their fancies baulk.

Yet these things are not amiss,

Nay, we should humour them in this.

But women, when they are with child,

Have sometimes longings far more wild,

As I shall shew you bye and bye,

If you'll with patience cast an eye

On what I write. A Yorkshire squire,

When years had left him little fire,

Did with a youthful wife engage,

To be the comfort of his age;

For he had threescore winters told;

But see th' almighty power of gold

He saw a neighbour's charming daughter,

And of her greedy parents sought her.

Her parents, by his riches blinded,

Their daughter's pleasure, little minded;

But Jenny view'd him with disdain,

And wept, but all her tears were vain.

They gravely told her it was folly

To whine and be thus melancholy;

They own'd, indeed, the Squire was old,

But he was bless'd with store of gold,

And they'd take care he should appoint her

A very comfortable jointure,

That would (when he lay in his tomb)

Soon bring a younger husband home.

At last poor Jenny gave consent

To do what she could not prevent,

So to the church they gravely went.

The parson ty'd them fast for life,

And Jenny was an old man's wife;

The squire had all the joy he wanted,

And all he ask'd his Jenny granted;

She answered all his bills at sight,

Whether at morning, noon, or night;

And very few demands he made,

And Jenny had but little trade;

But being young, and likewise fair,

She thought it folly to despair.

Fox-hunting was the squire's delight,

He seldom did return till night;

But while he thus his sport enjoy'd,

His wife was otherwise employ'd;

Tho' what she did I cannot tell,

At last the dame began to swell.

This to her spouse she did declare,

Who hoping strongly for an heir,

With tears of joy embrac'd the fair.

My dear, said he, my charming wife,

Thou joy, thou comfort of my life,

My heart is overwhelm'd with joy,

Pray heav'n the child may be a boy;

Be what it will, I here declare,

That it shall be my only heir;

At least, I'll have no other wife,

Tho' you should die, my dearest life,

Which heaven forbid; you're young, my dear,

And may live many and many a year.

Jenny, who was at first afraid,

She had so oft the squire betray'd,

Was highly pleas'd with what he said;

For she, who never thought amiss,

Knew well the child was none of his.

And now came on her longing fits;

She long'd at first for dainty bits;

The husband all things got with care,

In hopes to see the wish'd-for heir.

At last her longings grew so high,

She told her spouse she'd surely die,

Unless the parson would bestow

On her an inch of what you know.

My dear, her husband did reply,

Why this is flat adultery.

I know not what it is, said she,

But if you won't with this agree,

I'm sure I'll die this very night,

And never bring the babe to light;

If you had lov'd me at this pinch,

You had not grudg'd a single inch.

Away the doting husband went;

The pious parson was content,

And proud that ladies, in their grief,

Should send to him to bring relief,

The loving husband was at care,

In managing this nice affair;

And coming in, said to his wife,

The parson's come to save your life.

Tis very well, said she, my dear;

But when she saw the inch appear,

She cursed and swore that she was wrong'd;

It was not for that inch I long'd,

You stupid blockhead let me tell ye,

It was the inch that's next his belly.

The inhabitants round the different camps say -

"The soldiers have made everything 'alive.'"

Many of the young females say and lament the same.

A farmer once lived in the land of Pope Figs, On whom Satan thought proper to play off some rigs;

But then Satan was green, you must know, For a bargain he made: that when harvest came round, The farmer should have all the grain above ground, And the Devil should have all below.

So the farm it was sown, and in due time it was reaped, The farmer disposed of his crop, and he leaped With joy, as he counted the tin;

Then the Devil he grubbed up the seeds in the soil, And he found them all rotten — his share of the spoil Had been dear at a quartern of gin!

Enraged, quoth Dan Satan, "Next year, my old love,

"You shall have all below, and I'll have all above;"

Quoth the farmer, — "Agreed," — (mighty civil,) So he sowed all his fields full of carrots, not grain, And at harvest he booked all the profits again, And took a long "sight" at the Devil.

Then his Highness began to look blacker than black, And, said he, "though I'm off, in a week I'll be back,

"And then, farmer, we'll have a 'set-to,' "When, if claws are worth twopence, just look to your hide."

"I'll be happy to see you," the farmer replied;

And touching his castor — withdrew.

But, in spite of big words, he was frightened, because He knew that his nails were no match for long claws, Hoofs, horns, and a breath of blue flame;

So, in utter dismay, he fell scratching his crown;

When, scratching his horns reminded the clown, To seek the advice of his dame.

The case being stated, the wife answered, "Pooh!

"I'll manage it for you; I'll soon get you through;

"Be cheered, my dear husband; be bold."

He felt cheered, and he gave her a kiss, chaste and kind, If he did nothing more, you will please bear in mind, That the dame was some sixty years old.

On the morning appointed Old Beelzebub came;

His heart full of wrath, and his mouth full of flame, And he stamped and he roared like a brick.

So the dame popped her spouse through a little back door, And laid herself down full length on the floor, And so waited, to welcome Old Nick!

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