Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE MERCHANT AND THE FIDLER'S WIFE, by ANONYMOUS First Line: It was a rich merchant man Last Line: They are ever free and common Subject(s): Unfaithfulness; Infidelity;adultery;inconstancy | ||||||||
It was a Rich Merchant Man That had both Ship and all; And he would cross the salt Seas Tho' his cunning it was but small. The Fidler and his Wife, They being nigh at hand, Would needs go sail along with him From Dover unto Scotland. The Fidler's Wife look'd brisk, Which made the Merchant smile; He made no doubt to bring it about The Fidler to beguile. Is this thy Wife, the Merchant said, She looks like an honest Spouse; Ay that she is, the Fidler said, That ever trod on Shoes. They Confidence is very great, The Merchant then did say; If thou a Wager darest to bet I'll tell thee what I will lay. I'll lay my Ship against thy Fiddle, And all my Venture too, So Peggy may gang along with me My Cabin for to View. If she continues one Hour with me Thy true and constant Wife, Then shalt thou have my Ship and be A Merchant all thy Life. The Fidler was content, He Danc'd and Leap'd for joy; And twang'd his Fiddle in merriment, For Peggy he thought was Coy. Then Peggy she went along His Cabin for to View, And after her the Merchant-Man Did follow, we found it true. When they were once together The Fidler was afraid; For he crep'd near in pitious fear, And thus to Peggy he said: Hold out, sweet Peggy, hold out, For the space of two half Hours; If thou hold out, I make no doubt But the Ship and Goods are ours. In troth, sweet Robin, I cannot, He hath got me about the Middle; He's lusty and strong and hath laid me along -- O Robin, thou'st lost thy Fiddle. If I have lost my Fiddle Then am I a Man undone; My Fiddle whereon I so often play'd -- Away I needs must run. O stay, the Merchant said, And thou shalt keep thy place; And thou shalt have thy Fiddle again But Peggy shall carry the Case. Poor Robin, hearing that, He look'd with a Merry-chear; His wife she was pleas'd, and the Merchant was eas'd, And jolly and brisk they were. The Fidler he was mad, But valu'd it not a Fig; Then Peggy unto her Husband said, Kind Robin, play us a Jigg. Then he took up his Fiddle, And merrily he did play The Scottish Jigg and the Horn pipe And eke the Irish Hey. It was but in vain to grieve, The Deed it was done and past; Poor Robin was born to carry the Horn For Peggy could not be Chast. Then Fidlers all beware, Your Wives are kind you see; And he that's made for the Fidling Trade Must never a Merchant be. For Peggy she knew right well, Although she was but a Woman, That Gamesters Drink, and Fidlers Wives They are ever Free and Common. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A RITUAL AS OLD AS TIME ITSELF by PETER JOHNSON THE RING AND THE CASTLE by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. PURKAPILE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: TOM MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IF THERE'S A GOD... by GREGORY ORR TIS A LITTLE JOURNEY by ANONYMOUS |
|