Going home again, he did ordain A very splendid cold collation For the magistrates and the corporation; Likewise a grand illumination, For the amusement of the nation. That night the theatres were free, The conduits they ran Malvolsie; Each house that night did beam with light And sound with mirth and jollity;
But shame, O shame! not a soul in the town, Now the city was safe and the Cossacks flown, Ever thought of the bountiful saint by whose care The town had been rid of these terrible Turks-- Said even a prayer to that patroness fair, For these her wondrous works!
[How the priest, Hyacinth, waited at church, and nobody came thither.]
Lord Hyacinth waited, the meekest of priors-- He waited at church with the rest of his friars; He went there at noon and he waited till ten, Expecting in vain the lord-mayor and his men. He waited and waited from mid-day to dark; But in vain--you might search through the whole of the church, Not a layman, alas! to the city's disgrace, From mid-day to dark showed his nose in the place. The pew-woman, organist, beadle, and clerk, Kept away from their work, and were dancing like mad Away in the streets with the other mad people, Not thinking to pray, but to guzzle and tipple Wherever the drink might be had.
[How he went forth to bid them to prayer.]
Amidst this din and revelry throughout the city roaring, The silver moon rose silently, and high in heaven soaring; Prior Hyacinth was fervently upon his knees adoring: "Towards my precious patroness this conduct sure unfair is; I cannot think, I must confess, what keeps the dignitaries And our good mayor away, unless some business them contraries." He puts his long white mantle on and forth the prior sallies-- (His pious thoughts were bent upon good deeds and not on malice): Heavens! how the banquet lights they shone about the mayor's palace!
About the hall the scullions ran with meats both and fresh and potted; The pages came with cup and can, all for the guests allotted; Ah, how they jeered that good fat man as up the stairs he trotted!
He entered in the ante-rooms where sat the mayor's court in; He found a pack of drunken grooms a-dicing and a-sporting; The horrid wine and 'bacco fumes, they set the prior a-snorting! The prior thought he'd speak about their sins before he went hence, And lustily began to shout of sin and of repentance; The rogues, they kicked the prior out before he'd done a sentence!