The Mob Cap — or the retort
Quoth Kate “I will no longer bear
The rudeness of your jest
Since fully I’m resolv’d to wear
Whatever I like best.”
“So much if you dislike my head
Pray look another way:
I’m not by inclination led
To mind what you may say — “
“I really cannot understand
Why you keep up this railing!
Thank heaven, I’m not at your command
Nor is to yield my failing — “
“Must I sit down the easy elf?
Comply with all forsooth?
No, I’ll please no one but myself
And that the honest truth —”
Nay Kate, you need not make a rout,
Cries Ralph, I only meant,
Your Head and all that hangs about
In colours fit to paint.
You should not thus give way to passion
Because I recommended
Compliance, not with me, but fashion
The thing was well intended.
Perhaps you secretly desire
To triumph in this boast
“That beauty plays her warmest fire
When unadorned the most.”
Be this the case, I’ll set my wit
And spleen some other Job on,
And fairly own you do what’s fit
To keep that shabby Mob on.
I’ll strive to view, in fancy’s spite
Without regret that face,
Tho’ most ridiculous the sight,
Peep through a rim of lace.
In truth ’tis but an awkward look
While blooming to begin,
Like antiquated maids to brook,
Support, beneath your chin —
One would have thought it time enough
When withering nature draws
Towards decay, to tie that rough
Surcingle round your jaws
But were it thought that to enhance
Your beauty ’tis designed
Folks shrewdly might believe perchance
The Mob but poorly lin’d —
London — January 1809