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A CERTAIN pirate soon observ’d the ship,
In which this charming lady made the trip,
And presently attack’d and seiz’d the same;
But Richard’s bark to shore in safety came;
So near the land, or else he would not brave,
To any great extent, the stormy wave,
Or that the robber thought if both he took,
He could not decently for favours look,
And he preferr’d those joys the FAIR bestow,
To all the riches which to mortals flow.

ALTHOUGH a pirate, he had always shown
Much honour in his acts, as well was known;
But Cupid’s frolicks were his heart’s delight:
None truly brave can ever beauty slight;
A sailor’s always bold and kind and free,
Good lib’ral fellows, such they’ll ever be;
‘Mong saints indeed ’twere vain their names to seek!
The man was good howe’er of whom we speak;
His usual name was Pagamin Montegue;
For hours the lady’s screams were heard a league,
While he each minute anxiously would seize,
To cheer her spirits and her heart to please;
T’attain his wish he ev’ry art combined;
At length the lovely captive all resigned.
‘Twas Cupid conquer’d, Cupid with his dart;
A thousand times more pirate in his art,
Than Pagamin; on bleeding hearts he preys,
But little quarter gives, nor grace displays:
To pay her ransom she’d enough of gold;
For this her spouse was truly never cold;
No fast nor festival therein appear’d,
And her captivity he greatly fear’d.

THIS calendar o’erspread with rubrick days;
She soon forgot and learn’d the pirate’s ways;
The matrimonial zone aside was thrown,
And only mentioned where the fact was known:

OUR lawyer would his fingers sooner burn;
Than have his wife but virtuous home return;
By means of gold he entertain’d no doubt,
Her restoration might be brought about.
A passport from the pirate he obtain’d,
Then waited on him and his wish explain’d;
To pay he offer’d what soe’er he’d ask;
His terms accept, though hard perhaps the task;

THE robber answer’d, if my name around,
Be not for honourable acts renown’d,
‘Tis quite unjust:–your partner I’ll restore
In health, without a ransom:–would you more?
A friendship so respect’d, heav’n forefend!
Should ever, by my conduct, have an end.
The fair, whom you so ardently admire,
Shall to your arms return as you desire,
Such pleasure to a friend I would not sell;
Convince me that she’s your’s, and all is well;
For if another I to you should give,
(And many that I’ve taken with me live,)
I surely should incur a heavy blame;
I lately captur’d one, a charming dame,
With auburn locks, a little fat, tall, young;
If she declare she does to you belong,
When you she’s seen, I will the belle concede;
You’ll take her instantly; I’ll not impede.

THE sage replied, your conduct’s truly wise;
Such wond’rous kindness fills me with surprise;
But since ’tis said that every trade must live,
The sum just mention:–I’ll the ransom give;
No compliment I wish, my purse behold
You know the money presently is told;
Consider me a stranger now I pray;
With you I’d equal probity display,
And so will act, I swear, as you shall see;
There ‘s not a doubt the fair will go with me;
My word for this I would not have you take:–
You’ll see how happy ’twill the lady make
To find me here; to my embrace she’ll fly;
My only fears–that she of joy will die.
To them the charmer now was instant brought,
Who eyed her husband as beneath a thought;
Received him coldly, just as if he’d been
A stranger from Peru, she ne’er had seen.