Upon Mistris Mallet, an Unhandsome Gentlewoman, Who Made Love unto Him
Have I renounc’t my faith, or basely soldSalvation, and my loyalty, for gold?Have I some forreigne practice undertookeBy poyson, shott, sharp-knife, or sharper bookeTo kill my king? have I betrayd the stateTo fire and fury, or some newer fate,Which learned murderers, those grand destinies,The Jesuites, have nurc’d? if of all theseI guilty am, proceed; I am contentThat Mallet take mee for my punishment.For never sinne was of so high a rate,But one nights hell with her might expiate.Although the law with Garnet, and the rest,Dealt farr more mildly; hanging’s but a jestTo this immortall torture. Had shee bin thenIn Maryes torrid dayes engend’red, whenCruelty was witty, and Invention freeDid live by blood, and thrive by crueltye,Shee would have bin more horrid engines farreThan fire, or famine, racks, and halters are.Whether her witt, forme, talke, smile, tire I name,Each is a stock of tyranny, and shame;But for her breath, spectatours come not nigh,That layes about; God blesse the company!The man, in a beares skin baited to death,Would chose the doggs much rather then her breath;One kisse of hers, and eighteene wordes alonePut downe the Spanish Inquisition.Thrice happy wee (quoth I thinking thereon)That see no dayes of persecution;For were it free to kill, this grisly elfeWold martyrs make in compass of herselfe:And were shee not prevented by our prayer,By this time shee corrupted had the aire.And am I innocent? and is it true,That thing (which poet Plinye never knew,Nor Africk, Nile, nor ever Hackluyts eyesDescry’d in all his East, West-voyages;That thing, which poets were afrayd to feigne,For feare her shadowe should infect their braine;This spouse of Antichrist, and his alone,Shee’s drest so like the Whore of Babylon;)Should doate on mee? as if they did contriveThe devill and she, to damne a man alive.Why doth not Welcome rather purchase her,And beare about this rare familiar?Sixe markett dayes, a wake, and a fayre too ’t,Would save his charges, and the ale to boot.No tyger’s like her; shee feedes upon a manWorse than a tygresse or a leopard can.Let mee go pray, and thinke upon some spell,At once to bid the devill and her farwell.
Words in this poem 18
- basely adv.
- In a base manner; with despicable meanness; dishonorably; shamefully.
- shott a.
- Woven in such a way as to produce an effect of variegation, of changeable tints, or of being figured; as, shot silks. See Shoot, v.
- sinne adv.
- Old form of Since. [Obs. or Prov.Eng. & Scot.]
- farr n.
- A young pig, or a litter of pigs. [See Farrow.]
- jest n.
- A deed; an action; a gest. [OE. jeste, geste, deed, action, story, tale, OF. geste, LL. gesta, orig., exploits, neut. pl. from L. gestus, p. p. of gerere to bear, carry, accomplish, perfor]
- immortall a.
- Not mortal; exempt from liability to die; undying; imperishable; lasting forever; having unlimited, or eternal, existance. [L. immortalis; pref. im- not + mortalis mortal: cf. F. immortel. See Mortal, and cf. Immortelle.]
- witty a.
- Possessed of wit; knowing; wise; skillful; judicious; clever; cunning. [AS. witig, wittig. See Wit, n.]
- horrid a.
- Rough; rugged; bristling. [L. horridus. See Horror, and cf. Ordure.]
- farre n.
- A young pig, or a litter of pigs. [See Farrow.]
- famine n.
- General scarcity of food; dearth; a want of provisions; destitution. [F. famine, fr. L. fames hunger; cf. Gr. hani loss, lack, ha to leave.]
- witt v. t.
- To know; to learn. [OE. witen, pres. ich wot, wat, I know (wot), imp. wiste, AS. witan, pres. wat, imp. wiste, wisse; akin to OFries. wita, OS. witan, D. weten, G. wissen, OHG. wiz]
- quoth v. t.
- Said; spoke; uttered; -- used only in the first and third persons in the past tenses, and always followed by its nominative, the word or words said being the object; as, quoth I. quoth he. [AS.cweedhan, imp cwæedh, pl. cwædon; akin to OS. queedhan, OHG. quethan, quedan, Icel. kveedha, Goth. qiþan. sq. root22. Cf. Bequeath.]
- thereon adv.
- On that or this. [AS. . See There, and On.]
- wold n.
- A wood; a forest. [OE. wold, wald, AS. weald, wald, a wood, forest; akin to OFries. & OS. wald, D. woud, G. wald, Icel. völlr, a field, and probably to Gr. va a garden, inclosure.]
- spouse v. t.
- To wed; to espouse. [See Espouse, and Spouse, n.]
- antichrist n.
- A denier or opponent of Christ. Specif.: A great antagonist, person or power, expected to precede Christ's second coming.
- whore n.
- A woman who practices unlawful sexual commerce with men, especially one who prostitutes her body for hire; a prostitute; a harlot. Wyclif. [OE. hore, AS. h; akin to D. hoer, hoere, G. hure, OHG. huora, huorra, Icel. h, Dan. hore, Sw. hora, Goth. h an adulterer, AS. h adultery, OHG. huor, and probabl]
- devill n.
- The Evil One; Satan, represented as the tempter and spiritual of mankind. [AS. deófol, deóful; akin to G. , Goth. diabaúlus; all fr. L. diabolus the devil, Gr. gal to fall. Cf. Diabolic.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Upon Mistris Mallet, an Unhandsome Gentlewoman, Who Made Love unto Him is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Richard Corbet, late bishop of Oxford and of Norwich 4th edition, Project Gutenberg ebook #65375; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Richard Corbet, Upon Mistris Mallet, an Unhandsome Gentlewoman, Who Made Love unto Him, in Poems (1647), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #65375, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/corbet-poems/upon-mistris-mallet-an-unhandsome-gentlewoman-who-made-love-.html, id L08887.
Form and metre
Upon Mistris Mallet, an Unhandsome Gentlewoman, Who Made Love unto Him is 52 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 73% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%). 92% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 31% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABBCCDD--EEFFGG--HHII--JJKKKKLLMMNNOO----PP----QQRR soldA · goldA · undertookeB · bookeB · stateC · fateC · destiniesD · theseD · content · punishment · rateE · expiateE · restF · jestF · thenG · whenG · free · crueltye · farreH · areH · nameI · shameI · nigh · company · deathJ · breathJ · aloneK · inquisitionK · thereonK · persecutionK · elfeL · herselfeL · prayerM · aireM · trueN · knewN · eyesO · voyagesO · feigne · braine · alone · babylon · contriveP · aliveP · her · familiar · t · boot · manQ · canQ · spellR · farwellR
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Have I renounc’t my faith, or basely sold | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Salvation, and my loyalty, for gold? | 10 | ˘/˘··/˘˘·· |
| Have I some forreigne practice undertooke | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| By poyson, shott, sharp-knife, or sharper booke | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| To kill my king? have I betrayd the state | 10 | ·········· |
| To fire and fury, or some newer fate, | 10 | ·/·/˘··/˘· |
| Which learned murderers, those grand destinies, | 10 | ··/˘˘··/˘˘ |
| The Jesuites, have nurc’d? if of all these | 10 | ·/˘˘······ |
| I guilty am, proceed; I am content | 10 | ·/˘·˘/··˘/ |
| That Mallet take mee for my punishment. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘˘ |
| For never sinne was of so high a rate, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| But one nights hell with her might expiate. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Although the law with Garnet, and the rest, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Dealt farr more mildly; hanging’s but a jest | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| To this immortall torture. Had shee bin then | 11 | ··˘/˘/˘···· |
| In Maryes torrid dayes engend’red, when | 10 | ·/˘/˘···˘· |
| Cruelty was witty, and Invention free | 10 | /˘·/˘·˘/˘· |
| Did live by blood, and thrive by crueltye, | 9 | ········· |
| Shee would have bin more horrid engines farre | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Than fire, or famine, racks, and halters are. | 10 | ·/·/˘··/˘· |
| Whether her witt, forme, talke, smile, tire I name, | 11 | ····/˘··/·· |
| Each is a stock of tyranny, and shame; | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| But for her breath, spectatours come not nigh, | 10 | ····/˘˘··· |
| That layes about; God blesse the company! | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| The man, in a beares skin baited to death, | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| Would chose the doggs much rather then her breath; | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| One kisse of hers, and eighteene wordes alone | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Put downe the Spanish Inquisition. | 9 | ···/˘·˘/˘ |
| Thrice happy wee (quoth I thinking thereon) | 10 | ·/˘···/˘˘/ |
| That see no dayes of persecution; | 9 | ······˘/˘ |
| For were it free to kill, this grisly elfe | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Wold martyrs make in compass of herselfe: | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| And were shee not prevented by our prayer, | 10 | ····˘/˘·/· |
| By this time shee corrupted had the aire. | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| And am I innocent? and is it true, | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
| That thing (which poet Plinye never knew, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Nor Africk, Nile, nor ever Hackluyts eyes | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Descry’d in all his East, West-voyages; | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| That thing, which poets were afrayd to feigne, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| For feare her shadowe should infect their braine; | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| This spouse of Antichrist, and his alone, | 10 | ···/˘˘··˘/ |
| Shee’s drest so like the Whore of Babylon;) | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Should doate on mee? as if they did contrive | 10 | ········˘/ |
| The devill and she, to damne a man alive. | 11 | ·/˘······˘/ |
| Why doth not Welcome rather purchase her, | 10 | ···/˘/˘/˘· |
| And beare about this rare familiar? | 9 | ······˘/˘ |
| Sixe markett dayes, a wake, and a fayre too ’t, | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| Would save his charges, and the ale to boot. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| No tyger’s like her; shee feedes upon a man | 10 | ·/········ |
| Worse than a tygresse or a leopard can. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Let mee go pray, and thinke upon some spell, | 10 | ·········· |
| At once to bid the devill and her farwell. | 11 | ·····/˘··/· |
Notes from the edition 1
The notes to the Poems of Richard Corbet (Project Gutenberg #65375).
- Line 13 Henry Garnet, provincial of the order of Jesuits in England, who was arraigned and executed at the west end of St. Paul’s, for his connivance at, rather than for any active participation in, the Gunpowder Plot, May 3, 1605. See State Trials.
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