A Burlesque Translation of Homer

If to our noble chief a few
Make presents, pray, what's that to you?
What mighty gifts have you bestow'd,
Except your venom? scurvy toad!
If the bold bucks their plunder gave,
Thou canst not think' among the brave
We reckon such a lousy knave.
May I be doom'd to keep a tin-shop,
Or smite my soul into a gin-shop,
There to be drawn by pint or gill,
For drunken whores to take their fill;
Or may I find my dear son Telley
With back and bones all beat to jelly;
Or in his stead behold another,
Got by some rascal on his mother;
If I don't punish the next fault,
By stripping off thy scarlet coat,
That shabby, ragged, thread-bare lac'd coat
Then with a horsewhip dust thy waistcoat;
I'll lay on so that all the navy
Shall hear thy curship roar peccavi.

This said, his broomshaft with a thwack
He drove against his huckle back.
It fell with such a dev'lish thump,
It almost rais'd another hump.
The poor faint-hearted culprit cries,
And tears ran down his blood-shot eyes:
With clout he wip'd his ugly face,
And sneak'd in silence to his place.
Then might you hear the mob declare
Their thoughts on courage, and on fear.
Up to the stars they cry'd Ulysses,
A braver fellow never pisses;
Of insolence he stops the tide,
Nor gives it time to spread too wide.
We want but half a score such samples,
To make all prating knaves examples:
'Twould teach the mob much better things,
Than dare to chatter about kings.
Whilst thus they sing Ulysses' praises,
The constable his body raises.
The gen'ral's truncheon of command
He flourish'd in his dexter hand.
Pallas in herald's coat stood by,
And with great noise did silence cry,
That all the rabble far and near
This crafty Grecian's speech might hear.
With staring looks and open jaws
They catch each syllab as it flows.
First, with his hand he scratch'd his head,
To try if wit's alive or dead:
But, when he found his wit was strong,
And ready to assist his tongue,
To clear his throat he hem'd aloud,
And thus humbugg'd the list'ning crowd:

Unlucky chief, to be so us'd,
Deserted first, and then abus'd!
At Argos, when we came to muster,
And were all gather'd in a cluster,
The general voice was heard to say,
The de'il fetch him that runs away!
Then took a bible oath that night,
They never would return from fight
Till the old Trojan town should tumble;
And yet you see for home they grumble.
I own myself, 'tis very hard
To be from home so long debarr'd:
If but a single fortnight we
Are kept confin'd upon the sea
From our good wives and bantlings dear,
How do we rave, and curse, and swear!
Then, after nine years' absence, sure
These folks may look a little sour.
They're not to blame for being sad;
But thus bamboozled, makes one mad:
Though wizard Calchas plainly said,
If we the space of nine years staid,
The tenth we surely should destroy
This paltry mud-wall'd borough Troy.
Have patience then, and let's endure
To box it out a few weeks more.
Remember how a mighty dragon
A plane-tree mounted from a waggon;
He found a bird's nest at the top,
And quickly ate eight young ones up;
To make the ninth there wants another;
On which the serpent snapp'd the mother:
Though, after he had made this rout,
He ne'er had time to shit 'em out;
For twenty minutes were not gone
Before he chang'd to solid stone,
Where, on the summit of a hill,
At Aulis, you may see him still.
When Calchas saw this wondrous thing,
Like Endor's witch, he drew a ring;
And, standing by himself i' th' middle,
Began this wonder to unriddle: