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The Love Story of John and Sue by Bill Rattleknife
 
 

Father: Hold, then. Go home, be merry, give consent

To marry Patrick FitzMichael: Wednesday is tomorrow.

Tomorrow night look that you lie alone;

Let not the Anne lie with you in your chamber.

Take you this vial, being then in bed,

And this distilled liquor drink you off;

When presently through all your veins shall run

A cold and drowsy humour; for no pulse

Shall keep his native progress, but surcease;

No warmth, no breath, shall testify you live;

The roses in your lips and cheeks shall fade

To paly ashes, your eyes' windows fall

Like death when he shuts up the day of life;

Each part, deprived of supple government,

Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death;

And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death

You shalt continue two and forty hours,

And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.

Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes

To rouse you from your bed, there art you dead.

Then, as the manner of our country is,

In your best robes uncovered on the bier

You shalt be borne to that same ancient vault

Where all the kindred of the Smiths lie.

 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
The Love Story of John and Sue by Bill Rattleknife continued
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
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Spring Breeze 1895 - William Adolphe Bouguereau