Unto the best he prest each guest with free and jovial look, And Ellen Bean ruled his cuisine. - He called her 'Nelly Cook.' "For soups, and stews, and choice ragoûts, Nell Cook was famous still! She'd make them even of old shoes, she had such wondrous skill : Her manchets fine were quite divine, her cakes were nicely brown'd, Her boil'd and roast, they were the boast of all the 'Precinct' round; "And Nelly was a comely lass, but calm and staid her air, And earthward bent her modest look-yet was she passing fair; And though her gown was russet brown, their heads grave people shook: -They all agreed no Clerk had need of such a pretty Cook. "One day, 'twas on a Whitsun-eve-there came a coach and four ; It passed the 'Green-Court' gate, and stopped before the Canon's door; The travel-stain on wheel and rein bespoke a weary way, Each panting steed relax'd its speed-out stept a Lady gay. "Now, welcome! welcome! dearest Niece,' - the Canon then did cry, And to his breast the lady prest-he had a merry eye,— 'Now, welcome! welcome! dearest Niece! in sooth, thou'rt welcome here, 'Tis many a day since we have met-how fares my Brother dear?' "Now, thanks, my loving Uncle,' that Lady gay replied: 'Gramercy for thy benison!'-then 'Out, alas!' she sighed; 'My father dear he is not near; he seeks the Spanish Main; He prays thee give me shelter here till he return again!' ""Now, welcome! welcome; dearest Niece; come lay thy mantle by!' The Canon kiss'd her ruby lip-he had a merry eye, But Nelly Cook askew did look, -it came into her mind They were a little less than 'kin,' and rather more than "Three weeks are gone and over-full three weeks and 'kind.' a day, Yet still within the Canon's house doth dwell that Lady gay; On capons fine they daily dine, rich cates and sauces rare, And they quaff good store of Bordeaux wine, -so dainty is their fare. "And fine upon the Virginals is that gay Lady's touch, And sweet her voice unto the lute, you'll scarce hear any such; But is it O Sanctissima!' she sings in dulcet tone? ' Bobbing Joan !' "The Canon's house is lofty and spacious to the view; The Canon's cell is ordered well-yet Nelly looks askew; The Lady's bower is in the tower, -yet Nelly shakes her head She hides the poker and the tongs in that gay Lady's bed! "Six weeks were gone and over-full six weeks and a day, Yet in that bed the poker and the tongs unheeded lay ! From which, I fear, it's pretty clear that Lady rest had none; Or, if she slept in any bed-it was not in her own. "But where that Lady pass'd her night, I may not well divine, Perhaps in pious oraisons at good St. Thomas' Shrine, And for her father far away breathed tender vows and true It may be so-I cannot say-but Nelly look'd askew. "And still at night, by fair moonlight, when all were lock'd in sleep, She'd listen at the Canon's door, -she'd through the keyhole peep I know not what she heard or saw, but fury fill'd her eye -She bought some nasty Doctor's-stuff, and she put it in a pie! "It was a glorious summer's eve-with beams of rosy red The Sun went down-all Nature smiled-but Nelly shook her head! Full softly to the balmy breeze rang out the Vesper bell -Upon the Canon's startled ear it sounded like a knell ! ""Now here's to thee, mine Uncle! a health I drink to thee! Now pledge me back in Sherris sack, or a cup of Malvoisie!' The Canon sigh'd-but, rousing, cried, 'I answer to thy call, And a Warden-pie's a dainty dish to mortify withal!' "'Tis early dawn-the matin chime rings out for morning pray'r And Prior and Friar is in his stall-the Canon is not there! Nor in the small Refect'ry hall, nor cloister'd walk is he All wonder-and the Sacristan says, 'Lauk-a-daisy-me!' " They've search'd the aisles and Baptistry - they've search'd above-around The Sermon House'-the 'Audit Room'-the Canon is not found. They only find that pretty Cook concocting a ragoût, They ask her where her master is-but Nelly looks askew. "They call for crow-bars-'jemmies' is the modern name they bear They burst through lock, and bolt, and bar-but what a sight is there! |