THE LAY OF THE OLD WOMAN CLOTHED IN GREY..................... 219

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THE LORD OF THOULOUSE.

THE WEDDING-DAY; OR, THE BUCCANEER'S CURSE................... 267

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INGOLDSBY LEGENDS.

THE BLACK MOUSQUETAIRE.

A LEGEND OF FRANCE.

FRANÇOIS XAVIER Auguste was a gay Mousquetaire,
The Pride of the Camp, the delight of the Fair;
He'd a mien so distingué, and so débonnaire,
And shrugg'd with a grace so recherché and rare,
And he twirl'd his moustache with so charming an air,
-His moustaches I should say, because he'd a pair, -
And, in short, show'd so much of the true sçavoir faire,
All the ladies in Paris were wont to declare,
That could any one draw

Them from Dian's strict law,

Into what Mrs. Ramsbottom calls a "Fox Paw,"
It would be François Xavier Auguste de St. Foix.

Now, I'm sorry to say,
At that time of day,

The Court of Versailles was a little too gay;
The Courtiers were all much addicted to Play,
To Bordeaux, Chambertin, Frontignac, St. Peray,
Lafitte, Chateaux Margaux,

And Sillery (a cargo

On which John Bull sensibly (?) lays an embargo),

While Louis Quatorze

Kept about him, in scores,

What the Noblesse, in courtesy, term'd his "Jane Shores," -They were call'd by a much coarser name out of doors.— This, we all must admit, in

A King's not befitting!

For such courses, when followed by persons of quality,
Are apt to detract on the score of morality.

François Xavier Auguste acted much like the rest of them, Dress'd, drank, and fought, and chasse'd with the best of them, Took his œil de perdrix

Till he scarcely could see,

He would then sally out in the streets for a 66

His rapier he'd draw,

Pink a Bourgeois,

spree;"

(A word which the English translate "Johnny Raw,")

For your thorough French Courtier, whenever the fit he's in,

Thinks its prime fun to astonish a citizen;

And, perhaps it's no wonder that this kind of scrapes,

In a nation which Voltaire, in one of his japes,

Defines "an amalgam of Tigers and Apes,"
Should be merely considered as "Little Escapes,"
But I'm sorry to add,

Things are almost as bad

A great deal nearer home, and that similar pranks
Amongst young men who move in the very first ranks,
Are by no means confined to the land of the Franks.

Be this as it will,

In the general, still,

Though blame him we must,

It is really but just

To our lively young friend, François Xavier Auguste,

At his Bacchanal parties he always drank fair,

And, when gambling his worst, always play'd on the square,
So that, being much more of pigeon than rook, he

Lost large sums at faro (a game like "Blind Hookey"),
And continued to lose,

And to give I. O. U.'s,

Till he lost e'en the credit he had with the Jews;
And, a parallel if I may venture to draw

Between François Xavier Auguste de St. Foix,
And his namesake, a still more distinguished François,
Who wrote to his "sœur” *

From Pavia, "Mon Cœur,

I have lost all I had in the world fors l'honneur,”
So St. Foix might have wrote

No dissimilar note,

"Vive la bagatelle !-toujours gai-idem semperI've lost all I had in the world but-my temper!" From the very beginning,

Indeed, of his sinning,

His air was so cheerful, his manners so winning,

That once he prevailed-or his friends coin the tale for him— On the bailiff who "nabbed" him, himself to "go bail" for him.

Well we know in these cases

Your "Crabs" and "Deuce Aces"

Are wont to promote frequent changes of places;
Town doctors, indeed, are most apt to declare

That there's nothing so good as the pure "country air,"

* Mrs. Ingoldsby, who is deeply read in Robertson, informs me that this is a mistake; that the lady to whom this memorable billet was delivered by the hands of Pennalosa, was the unfortunate monarch's mamma, and not his sister. I would gladly rectify the error, but, then,-what am I to do for a rhyme?-On the whole, I fear I must content myself, like Talleyrand, with admitting that "it is worse than a fault-it's a blunder!" for which enor mity, as honest old Pepys says when he records having kissed his cookmaid, "I humbly beg pardon of Heaven, and Mrs. Ingoldsby !"