a cedar close stool: Besides,
Gods of judgment have often confest That the natural scent without art
is the best." The Goddesses all, at these sayings, took snuff, And rose
from their seats in a damnable huff: Their frowns and their blushes,
they mingled together, And went off in a passion, I do not know
hither.

"Here's another fine burlesque poem I'll read, if you don't mind,"
continued Frank, "it's called 'Vulcan and Venus.'"

VULCAN AND VENUS

Says Vulcan to Venus, "Pray where have you been?" "Abroad," cries the
Goddess, "to see and be seen." "I fear," says the blacksmith, "you lead
an ill life, Tho' a Goddess, I doubt you're a bitch of a wife." "Why,
how now," cries Venus, "altho' you're my spouse, If you bitch me, you
brute, have a care of your brows; Why sure you don't think, I, the
Goddess of Beauty, By dint of ill language, will prove the more true
t'ye; Be civil, you'd best, or I vow by my placket, I'll make the god
Mars bastinado your jacket!" "Are you there with your bears?" Smung
replies to his Hussey. "Does Mars still refresh your old Furbilo, does
he; I feel by my forehead a coat that is scarlet, Of all kinds of
baits, is the best for a harlot; For beauty, I find, as 'tis commonly
said, Will nibble like fish at a rag that is red; But Hussey, tell me
any more of your Mars, And I'll run a hot bar in your Goddesship's
arse; I fear not your threats, there's a fart for your bully, No whore
in the Heavens shall make me her cully!" "You run a hot bar in my bum,"
quoth the dame, "Its a sign you've a mighty respect for the same; If
your love be so little as to abuse it, I'll keep it for those who know
better to use it; I'm certain no Goddess that values her honour, Would
bear the indignities you put upon her, And not from that minute resolve
out of spite, To improve your old horns till they hang in your light."
"You're an impudent slut," cries the smung at his bellows, "And I the
unhappiest of all marry'd fellows: I know you have made me a ram, I
have seen it, I catch'd you, you Whore, in the critical minute, Fast
lock'd in the arms of your lecherous God, Whilst his brawny posteriors
went niddity nod; And you, like a Slut, lay as pleased and contented,
As if every joint of your body consented; Altho' when you found you
were spy'd by your buck, Then you struggl'd and strove like a pig that
is stuck, And dismounting your God, would have made your escape, But I
saw by your actions it could be no rape;