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diff --git a/5300.txt b/5300.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..962835d --- /dev/null +++ b/5300.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14337 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Tales and Novels, Complete, by Jean de La Fontaine + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tales and Novels, Complete + +Author: Jean de La Fontaine + +Release Date: October 29, 2006 [EBook #5300] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES AND NOVELS, COMPLETE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + THE TALES AND NOVELS + OF + J. DE LA FONTAINE + + + + TABLE: + + LA FONTAINE'S LIFE + PREFACE + Joconde + The Cudgelled and Contented Cuckold + The Husband Confessor + The Cobbler + The Peasant and His Angry Lord + The Muleteer + The Servant Girl Justified + The Three Gossips' Wager + The Old Man's Calendar + The Avaricious Wife and Tricking Gallant + The Jealous Husband + The Gascon Punished + The Princess Betrothed to the King of Garba + The Magick Cup + The Falcon + The Little Dog + The Eel Pie + The Magnificent + The Ephesian Matron + Belphegor + The Little Bell + The Glutton + The Two Friends + The Country Justice + Alice Sick + The Kiss Returned + Sister Jane + An Imitation of Anacreon + Another Imitation of Anacreon + PREFACE (To The Second Book) + Friar Philip's Geese + Richard Minutolo + The Monks of Catalonia + The Cradle + St. Julian's Prayer + The Countryman Who Sought His Calf + Hans Carvel's Ring + The Hermit + The Convent Gardener of Lamporechio + The Mandrake + The Rhemese + The Amorous Courtesan + Nicaise + The Progress of Wit + The Sick Abbess + The Truckers + The Case of Conscience + The Devil of Pope-fig Island + Feronde + The Psalter + King Candaules and the Doctor of Laws + The Devil in Hell + Neighbour Peter's Mare + The Spectacles + The Bucking Tub + The Impossible Thing + The Picture + The Pack-Saddle + The Ear-maker, and the Mould-mender + The River Scamander + The Confidant Without Knowing It, or the + Stratagem + The Clyster + The Indiscreet Confession + The Contract + The Quid Pro Quo, or the Mistakes + The Dress-maker + The Gascon + The Pitcher + To Promise is One Thing, to Keep It, Another + The Nightingale + Epitaph of La Fontaine + + + + LIFE OF + JEAN DE LA FONTAINE + + +Jean de La Fontaine was born on the 8th of July, 1621, at +Chateau-Thierry, and his family held a respectable position there. + +His education was neglected, but he had received that genius which makes +amends for all. While still young the tedium of society led him into +retirement, from which a taste for independence afterwards withdrew him. + +He had reached the age of twenty-two, when a few sounds from the lyre of +Malherbe, heard by accident, awoke in him the muse which slept. + +He soon became acquainted with the best models: Pheedrus, Virgil, Horace +and Terence amongst the Latins; Plutarch, Homer and Plato, amongst the +Greeks; Rabelais, Marot and d'Urfe, amongst the French; Tasso, Ariosto +and Boccaccio, amongst the Italians. + +He married, in compliance with the wishes of his family, a beautiful, +witty and chaste woman, who drove him to despair. + +He was sought after and cherished by all distinguished men of letters. +But it was two Ladies who kept him from experiencing the pangs of +poverty. + +La Fontaine, if there remain anything of thee, and if it be permitted to +thee for a moment to soar above all time; see the names of La Sabliere +and of Hervard pass with thine to the ages to come! + +The life of La Fontaine was, so to speak, only one of continual +distraction. In the midst of society, he was absent from it. Regarded +almost as an imbecile by the crowd, this clever author, this amiable man, +only permitted himself to be seen at intervals and by friends. + +He had few books and few friends. + +Amongst a large number of works that he has left, everyone knows his +fables and his tales, and the circumstances of his life are written in +a hundred places. + +He died on the 16th of March, 1695. + +Let us keep silence about his last moments, for fear of irritating those +who never forgive. + +His fellow-citizens honour him in his posterity to this day. + +Long after his death, foreigners went to visit the room which he had +occupied. + +Once a year, I shall go to visit his tomb. + +On that day, I shall tear up a fable of La Mothe, a tale of Vergier, or +several of the best pages of Grecourt. + +He was buried in the cemetery of Saint-Joseph, by the side of Moliere. + +That spot will always be held sacred by poets and people of taste. + + + + + + THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE + + TO THE FIRST VOLUME OF THESE TALES + +I had resolved not to consent to the printing of these Tales, until after +I had joined to them those of Boccaccio, which are those most to my +taste; but several persons have advised me to produce at once what I +have remaining of these trifles, in order to prevent from cooling the +curiosity to see them, which is still in its first ardour. I gave way to +this advice without much difficulty, and I have thought well to profit by +the occasion. Not only is that permitted me, but it would be vanity on +my part to despise such an advantage. It has sufficed me to wish that no +one should be imposed upon in my favour, and to follow a road contrary to +that of certain persons, who only make friends in order to gain voices in +their favour by their means; creatures of the Cabal, very different from +that Spaniard who prided himself on being the son of his own works. +Although I may still be as much in want of these artifices as any other +person, I cannot bring myself to resolve to employ them; however I shall +accommodate myself if possible to the taste of the times, instructed as I +am by my own experience, that there is nothing which is more necessary. +Indeed one cannot say that all seasons are suitable for all classes of +books. We have seen the Roundelays, the Metamorphoses, the Crambos, +reign one after another. At present, these gallantries are out of date +and nobody cares about them: so certain is it that what pleases at one +time may not please at another! It only belongs to works of truly solid +merit and sovereign beauty, to be well received by all minds and in all +ages, without possessing any other passport than the sole merit with +which they are filled. As mine are so far distant from such a high +degree of perfection, prudence advises that I should keep them in my +cabinet unless I choose well my own time for producing them. This is +what I have done, or what I have tried to do in this edition, in which +I have only added new Tales, because it seemed to me that people were +prepared to take pleasure in them. There are some which I have extended, +and others which I have abridged, only for the sake of diversifying them +and making them less tedious. But I am occupying myself over matters +about which perhaps people will take no notice, whilst I have reason to +apprehend much more important objections. There are only two principal +ones which can be made against me; the one that this book is licentious; +the other that it does not sufficiently spare the fair sex. With regard +to the first, I say boldly that the nature of what is understood as a +tale decided that it should be so, it being an indispensable law +according to Horace, or rather according to reason and common sense, that +one must conform one's self to the nature of the things about which one +writes. Now, that I should be permitted to write about these as so many +others have done and with success I do not believe it can be doubted; and +people cannot condemn me for so doing, without also condemning Ariosto +before me and the Ancients before Ariosto. It may be said that I should +have done better to have suppressed certain details, or at least to have +disguised them. Nothing was more easy, but it would have weakened the +tale and taken away some of its charm: So much circumspection is only +necessary in works which promise great discretion from the beginning, +either by their subject or by the manner in which they are treated. I +confess that it is necessary to keep within certain limits, and that the +narrowest are the best; also it must be allowed me that to be too +scrupulous would spoil all. He who would wish to reduce Boccaccio to the +same modesty as Virgil, would assuredly produce nothing worth having, and +would sin against the laws of propriety by setting himself the task to +observe them. For in order that one may not make a mistake in matters +of verse and prose, extreme modesty and propriety are two very different +things. Cicero makes the latter consist in saying what is appropriate +one should say, considering the place, the time, and the persons to whom +one is speaking. This principle once admitted, it is not a fault of +judgment to entertain the people of to-day with Tales which are a little +broad. Neither do I sin in that against morality. If there is anything +in our writings which is capable of making an impression on the mind, it +is by no means the gaiety of these Tales; it passes off lightly; I should +rather fear a tranquil melancholy, into which the most chaste and modest +novels are very capable of plunging us, and which is a great preparation +for love. As to the second objection, by which people reproach me that +this book does wrong to womankind, they would be right if I were +speaking seriously: but who does not see that this is all in jest, +and consequently cannot injure? We must not be afraid on that account +that marriages in the future will be less frequent, and husbands more on +their guard. It may still be objected that these Tales are unfounded or +that they have everywhere a foundation easy to destroy; in short that +they are absurdities and have not the least tinge of probability. +I reply in a few words that I have my authorities: and besides it is +neither truth nor probability which makes the beauty and the charm of +these Tales: it is only the manner of telling them. These are the +principal points on which I have thought it necessary to defend myself. +I abandon the rest to the censors; the more so as it would be an infinite +undertaking to pretend to reply to all. Criticism never stops short nor +ever wants for subjects on which to exercise itself: even if those I am +able to foresee were taken from it, it would soon have discovered others. + + + + TALES AND NOVELS + OF + J. DE LA FONTAINE + ....... + + + JOCONDE + + + IN Lombardy's fair land, in days of yore, + Once dwelt a prince, of youthful charms, a store; + Each FAIR, with anxious look, his favours sought, + And ev'ry heart within his net was caught. + Quite proud of beauteous form and smart address, + In which the world was led to acquiesce, + He cried one day, while ALL attention paid, + I'll bet a million, Nature never made + Beneath the sun, another man like me, + Whose symmetry with mine can well agree. + If such exist, and here will come, I swear + I'll show him ev'ry lib'ral princely care. + + A noble Roman, who the challenge heard, + This answer gave the king his soul preferr'd + --Great prince, if you would see a handsome man, + To have my brother here should be your plan; + A frame more perfect Nature never gave; + But this to prove, your courtly dames I crave; + May judge the fact, when I'm convinc'd they'll find: + Like you, the youth will please all womankind; + And since so many sweets at once may cloy, + 'Twere well to have a partner in your joy. + + THE king, surpris'd, expressed a wish to view + This brother, form'd by lines so very true; + We'll see, said he, if here his charms divine + Attract the heart of ev'ry nymph, like mine; + And should success attend our am'rous lord, + To you, my friend, full credit we'll accord. + + AWAY the Roman flew, Joconde to get, + (So nam'd was he in whom these features met;) + 'Midst woods and lawns, retir'd from city strife, + And lately wedded to a beauteous wife; + If bless'd, I know not; but with such a fair, + On him must rest the folly to despair. + + THE Roman courtier came, his business told + The brilliant offers from the monarch bold; + His mission had success, but still the youth + Distraction felt, which 'gan to shake his truth; + A pow'rful monarch's favour there he view'd; + A partner here, with melting tears bedew'd; + And while he wavered on the painful choice, + She thus address'd her spouse with plaintive voice: + + CAN you, Joconde, so truly cruel prove, + To quit my fervent love in courts to move? + The promises of kings are airy dreams, + And scarcely last beyond the day's extremes + By watchful, anxious care alone retain'd, + And lost, through mere caprice, as soon as gain'd. + If weary of my charms, alas! you feel, + Still think, my love, what joys these woods conceal; + Here dwell around tranquillity and ease; + The streams' soft murmurs, and the balmy breeze, + Invite to sleep; these vales where breathe the doves, + All, all, my dear Joconde, renew our loves; + You laugh!--Ah! cruel, go, expose thy charms, + Grim death will quickly spare me these alarms! + + JOCONDE'S reply our records ne'er relate, + Nor what he did, nor how he left his mate; + And since contemp'raries decline the task; + 'Twere folly, such details of me to ask. + We're told, howe'er, when ready to depart, + With flowing tears she press'd him to her heart; + And on his arm a brilliant bracelet plac'd, + With hair around her picture nicely trac'd; + This guard in full remembrance of my love, + She cried;--then clasped her hands to pow'rs above. + + TO see such dire distress, and poignant grief, + Might lead to think, soon death would bring relief; + But I, who know full well the female mind, + At best oft doubt affliction of the kind. + + JOCONDE set out at length; but that same morn; + As on he mov'd, his soul with anguish torn, + He found the picture he had quite forgot, + Then turn'd his steed, and back began to trot. + While musing what excuse to make his mate, + At home he soon arriv'd, and op'd the gate; + Alighted unobserv'd, ran up the stairs; + And ent'ring to the lady unawares, + He found this darling rib, so full of charms; + Intwin'd within a valet's brawny arms! + + 'MIDST first emotions of the husband's ire; + To stab them while asleep he felt desire; + Howe'er, he nothing did; the courteous wight; + In this dilemma, clearly acted right; + The less of such misfortunes said is best; + 'Twere well the soul of feeling to divest; + Their lives, through pity, or prudential care; + With much reluctance, he was led to spare; + Asleep he left the pair, for if awake, + In honour, he a diff'rent step would take.-- + Had any smart gallant supplied my place, + Said he, I might put up with this disgrace; + But naught consoles the thought of such a beast; + Dan Cupid wantons, or is blind at least; + A bet, or some such whim, induc'd the god, + To give his sanction to amours so odd. + + THIS perfidy Joconde so much dismay'd; + His spirits droop'd, his lilies 'gan to fade; + No more he look'd the charmer he had been; + And when the court's gay dames his face had seen; + They cried, Is this the beauty, we were told, + Would captivate each heart, or young or old? + Why, he's the jaundice; ev'ry view displays + The mien of one,--just fasted forty days! + + WITH secret pleasure, this, Astolphus learn'd; + The Roman, for his brother, risks discern'd, + Whose secret griefs were carefully conceal'd, + (And these Joconde could never wish reveal'd;) + Yet, spite of gloomy looks and hollow eyes, + His graceful features pierc'd the wan disguise, + Which fail'd to please, alone through want of life, + Destroy'd by thinking on a guilty wife. + + THE god of love, in pity to our swain, + At last revok'd BLACK CARE'S corroding reign; + For, doubtless, in his views he oft was cross'd, + While such a lover to the world was lost. + + THE hero of our tale, at length, we find + Was well rewarded: LOVE again proved kind; + For, musing as he walk'd alone one day, + And pass'd a gall'ry, (held a secret way,) + A voice in plaintive accents caught his ear, + And from the neighb'ring closet came, 'twas clear: + My dear Curtade, my only hope below, + In vain I love;--you colder, colder grow; + While round no fair can boast so fine a face, + And numbers wish they might supply thy place, + Whilst thou with some gay page prefer'st a bet, + Or game of dice with some low, vulgar set, + To meeting me alone; and when just now + To thee I sent, with rage thou knit'st thy brow, + And Dorimene, with ev'ry curse abus'd + Then played again, since better that amus'd, + And left me here, as if not worth a thought, + Or thou didst scorn what I so fondly sought. + + ASTONISHMENT, at once, our Roman seiz'd; + But who's the fair that thus her bosom eas'd? + Or, who's the gay Adonis, form'd to bless? + You'd try a day, and not the secret guess, + The queen's the belle:--and, doubtless you will stare, + The king's own dwarf the idol of her care! + + THE Roman saw a crevice in the wood, + Through which he took a peep from where he stood; + To Dorimene our lovers left the key, + Which she had dropt when lately forc'd to flee, + And this Joconde pick'd up, a lucky hit, + Since he could use it when he best thought fit. + It seems, said he, I'm not alone in name, + And since a prince so handsome is the same, + Although a valet has supplied my place, + Yet see, the queen prefers a dwarf's embrace. + + THIS thought consol'd so well,--his youthful rays + Returned, and e'en excelled his former days; + And those who lately ridicul'd his charms, + Now anxious seem'd to revel in his arms + 'Twas who could have him,--even prudes grew kind;-- + By many belles Astolphus was resign'd; + Though still the king retain'd enough, 'twas seen;-- + But now let us resume the dwarf and queen. + + OUR Roman, having satisfied his eyes, + At length withdrew, confounded by surprise. + Who follows courts, must oft with care conceal, + And scarcely know what sight and ears reveal. + + YET, by Joconde the king was lov'd so well, + What now he'd seen he greatly wish'd to tell; + But, since to princes full respect is due, + And what concerns them, howsoever true, + If thought displeasing, should not be dispos'd + In terms direct, but obviously dispos'd, + To catch the mind, Joconde at ease detail'd, + From days of yore to those he now bewail'd, + The names of emp'rors and of kings, whose brows, + By wily wives, were crown'd with leafless boughs! + And who, without repining, view'd their lot, + Nor bad made worse, but thought things best forgot. + E'en I, who now your majesty address, + Continued he, am sorry to confess, + The very day I left my native earth, + + To wait upon a prince of royal birth, + Was forced t'acknowledge cuckoldom among + The gods who rule the matrimonial throng, + And sacrifice thereto with aching heart + Cornuted heads dire torments oft impart: + + THE tale he then detail'd, that rais'd his spleen; + And what within the closet he had seen; + The king replied, I will not be so rude, + To question what so clearly you have view'd; + Yet, since 'twere better full belief to gain, + A glimpse of such a fact I should obtain, + Pray bring me thither; instantly our wight; + Astolphus led, where both his ears and sight + Full proof receiv'd, which struck the prince with awe; + Who stood amaz'd at what he heard and saw. + But soon reflection's all-convincing pow'r + Induced the king vexation to devour; + True courtier-like, who dire misfortunes braves, + Feels sprouting horns, yet smiles at fools and knaves: + Our wives, said he, a pretty trick have play'd, + And shamefully the marriage bed betray'd; + Let us the compliment return, my friend, + And round the country our amours extend; + But, in our plan the better to succeed, + Our names we'll change; no servants we shall need;-- + For your relation I desire to pass, + So you'll true freedom use; then with a lass + We more at ease shall feel, more pleasure gain; + Than if attended by my usual train. + + JOCONDE with joy the king's proposal heard; + On which the latter with his friend conferr'd; + Said he, 'twere surely right to have a book, + In which to place the names of those we hook, + The whole arrang'd according to their rank, + And I'll engage no page remains a blank, + But ere we leave the range of our design, + E'en scrup'lous dames shall to our wish incline, + Our persons handsome, with engaging air, + And sprightly, brilliant wit no trifling share,-- + 'Twere strange, possessing such engaging charms, + They should not tumble freely in our arms. + + THE baggage ready, and the paper-book, + our smart gallants the road together took, + But 'twould be vain to number their amours; + With beauties, Cupid favoured them by scores; + Blessed, if only seen by either swain, + And doubly bless'd who could attention gain: + Nor wife of alderman, nor wife of mayor, + Of justice, nor of governor was there, + Who did not anxiously desire her name + Might straight be entered in the book of fame! + Hearts, which before were thought as cold as ice, + Now warm'd at once and melted in a trice. + + SOME infidel, I fancy, in my ear + Would whisper-probabilities, I fear, + Are rather wanting to support the fact; + However perfectly gallants may act, + To gain a heart requires full many a day + If more be requisite I cannot say; + 'Tis not my plan to dupe or young or old, + But such to me, howe'er the tale is told, + And Ariosto never truth forsakes; + Yet, if at ev'ry step a writer takes, + He's closely question'd as to time and place, + He ne'er can end his work with easy grace. + To those, from whom just credence I receive, + Their tales I promise fully to believe. + + AT length, when our advent'rers round had play'd, + And danc'd with ev'ry widow, wife, and maid, + The full blown lily and the tender rose, + Astolphus said, though clearly I suppose, + We can as many hearts securely link, + As e'er we like, yet better now, I think, + To stop a while in some delightful spot, + And that before satiety we've got; + For true it is, with love as with our meat; + If we, variety of dishes eat, + The doctors tell us inj'ry will ensue, + And too much raking none can well pursue. + Let us some pleasing fair-one then engage, + To serve us both:--enough she'll prove I'll wage. + + JOCONDE at once replied, with all my heart, + And I a lady know who'll take the part; + She's beautiful; possesses store of wit; + And is the wife of one above a cit. + + WITH such to meddle would be indiscreet, + Replied the king, more charms we often meet, + Beneath a chambermaid or laundress' dress, + Than any rich coquette can well possess. + Besides, with those, less form is oft requir'd, + While dames of quality must be admir'd; + Their whims complied with, though suspicions rise; + And ev'ry hour produces fresh surprise, + But this sweet charmer of inferior birth + A treasure proves; a source of bliss on earth. + No trouble she to carry here nor there; + No balls she visits, and requires no care; + The conquest easy, we may talk or not; + The only difficulty we have got, + Is how to find one, we may faithful view; + So let us choose a girl, to love quite new. + + SINCE these, replied the YOUTH, your thoughts appear, + What think you of our landlord's daughter here? + That she's a perfect virgin I've no doubt, + Nor can we find a chaster round about; + Her very doll more innocent won't prove, + Than this sweet nymph design'd with us to move. + + THE scheme our prince's approbation met; + The very girl, said he, I wish'd to get; + This night be our attack; and if her heart + Surrenders when our wishes we impart, + But one perplexity will then remain; + 'Tis who her virgin favours shall obtain? + The honour 's all a whim, and I, as king, + At once assuredly should claim this thing: + The rest 'tis very easy to arrange; + As matters suit we presently can change. + + IF ceremony 'twere, Joconde replied, + All cavil then we quickly could decide; + Precedence would no doubt with you remain: + But this is quite another case 'tis plain; + And equity demands that we agree, + By lot to settle which the man shall be. + + THE noble youths no arguments would spare, + And each contended for the spoiler's care; + Howe'er Joconde obtained the lucky hit, + And first embrac'd this fancied dainty bit. + + THE girl who was the noble rival's aim, + That ev'ning to the room for something came; + Our heroes gave her instantly a chair, + And lavished praises on her face and hair; + A diamond ring soon sparkled in her eyes; + Its pleasing pow'rs at sight obtain'd the prize. + + THE bargain made, she, in the dead of night, + When silence reign'd and all was void of light, + With careful steps their anxious wish obey'd, + And 'tween them both, she presently was laid; + 'Twas Paradise they thought, where all is nice, + And our young spark believ'd he broke the ice. + + THE folly I forgive him;--'tis in vain + On this to reason--idle to complain; + The WISE have oft been dup'd it is confest, + And Solomon it seems among the rest. + But gay Joconde felt nothing of the kind, + A secret pleasure glow'd within his mind; + He thought Astolphus wond'rous bliss had missed, + And that himself alone the fair had kiss'd; + A clod howe'er, who liv'd within the place, + Had, prior to the Roman, her embrace. + + THE soft amour extended through the night, + The girl was pleas'd, and all proceeded right; + The foll'wing night, the next, 'twas still the same; + Young Clod at length her coldness 'gan to blame; + And as he felt suspicious of the act, + He watch'd her steps and verified the fact: + A quarrel instantly between them rose; + Howe'er the fair, his anger to compose, + And favour not to lose, on honour vow'd, + That when the sparks were gone, and time allow'd, + She would oblige his craving, fierce desire;-- + To which the village lad replied with ire:-- + Pray what care I for any tavern guest, + Of either sex; to you I now protest, + If I be not indulg'd this very night, + I'll publish your amours in mere despite. + + HOW can we manage it, replied the belle, + I'm quite distressed--indeed the truth to tell, + I've promis'd them this night to come again, + And if I fail, no doubt can then remain, + But I shall lose the ring, their pledg'd reward, + Which would, you know for me, be very hard. + + TO you I wish the ring, replied young Clod, + But do they sleep in bed, or only nod? + Tell me, pray; oh, said she, they sleep most sound; + But then between them plac'd shall I be found, + And while the one amidst Love's frolicks sports, + The other quiet lies, or Morpheus courts. + On hearing this the rustick lad proposed, + To visit her when others' eyes were closed. + Oh! never risk it, quickly she replied; + 'Twere folly to attempt it by their side. + He answer'd, never fear, but only leave + The door ajar, and me they'll not perceive. + + THE door she left exactly as he said; + The spark arriv'd, and then approach'd the bed, + ('Twas near the foot,) then 'tween the sheets he slid, + But God knows how he lay, or what he did. + Astolphus and Joconde ne'er smelt a rat, + Nor ever dreamt of what their girl was at, + At length when each had turn'd and op'd his eyes, + Continual movement fill'd him with surprise. + The monarch softly said:--why how is this? + My friend has eaten something, for in bliss, + He revels on, and truly much I fear, + His health will show, it may be bought too dear. + + THIS very sentiment Joconde bethought; + But Clod a breathing moment having caught, + Resum'd his fun, and that so oft would seek: + He gratified his wishes for a week; + Then watching carefully, he found once more; + Our noble heroes had begun to snore, + On which he slyly took himself away, + The road he came, and ere 'twas break of day; + The girl soon follow'd, since she justly fear'd, + Still more fatigues:--so off she quickly steer'd, + + AT length when both the nobles were awake; + Astolphus said, my friend you rest should take, + 'Twere better till to-morrow keep in bed, + Since sleep, with such fatigues, of course has fled: + You talk at random, cried the Roman youth; + More rest I fancy you require in truth; + You've led a pretty life throughout the night; + I? said the king; why I was weary quite, + So long I waited; you no respite gave, + But wholly seem'd our little nymph t' enslave; + At length to try if I from rage could keep, + I turn'd my back once more, and went to sleep. + If you had willingly the belle resign'd, + I was, my friend, to take a turn inclin'd; + That had sufficed for me, since I, like you, + Perpetual motion never can pursue. + + YOUR raillery, the Roman youth replied, + Quite disconcerted, pray now lay aside, + And talk of something else; you've fully shown, + That I'm your vassal, and since you are grown + So fond that you to keep the girl desire, + E'en wholly to yourself, why I'll retire; + Do with her what you please, and we shall see, + How long this furor will with you agree. + + IT may, replied the king, for ever last, + If ev'ry night like this, I'm doom'd to fast. + + SIRE, said Joconde, no longer let us thus, + In terms of playful raillery discuss; + Since such your pleasure, send me from your view; + On this the youthful monarch angry grew, + And many words between the friends arose; + The presence of the nymph Astolphus chose; + To her they said, between us judge, sweet fair, + And every thing was stated then with care. + + THE girl with blushing cheeks before them kneel'd, + And the mysterious tale at once reveal'd. + Our heroes laugh'd; the treach'ry vile excus'd; + And gave the ring, which much delight diffus'd; + Together with a handsome sum of gold, + Which soon a husband in her train enroll'd, + Who, for a maid, the pretty fair-one took; + And then our heroes wand'ring pranks forsook, + With laurels cover'd, which in future times, + Will make them famous through the Western climes; + More glorious since, they only cost, we find, + Those sweet ATTENTIONS pleasing to the MIND. + + So many conquests proud of having made, + And over full the BOOK of--those who'd play'd; + Said gay Astolphus we will now, my friend, + Return the shortest road and poaching end; + If false our mates, yet we'll console ourselves, + That many others have inconstant elves. + Perhaps, in things a change will be one day, + And only tender flames LOVE'S torch display; + But now it seems some evil star presides, + And Hymen's flock the devil surely rides. + Besides, vile fiends the universe pervade, + Whose constant aim is mortals to degrade, + And cheat us to our noses if they can, + (Hell's imps in human shape, disgrace to man!) + Perhaps these wretches have bewitch'd our wives, + And made us fancy errors in their lives. + Then let us like good citizens, our days + In future pass amidst domestick ways; + Our absence may indeed restore their hearts, + For jealousy oft virtuous truths imparts. + + IN this Astolphus certainly believ'd; + The friends return'd, and kindly were receiv'd; + A little scolding first assail'd the ear; + But blissful kisses banish'd ev'ry fear. + To balls and banquets ALL themselves resigned; + Of dwarf or valet nothing more we find; + Each with his wife contentedly remained:-- + 'Tis thus alone true happiness is gained. + + + + + + + THE CUDGELLED AND + CONTENTED CUCKOLD + + + SOME time ago from Rome, in smart array, + A younger brother homeward bent his way, + Not much improved, as frequently the case + With those who travel to that famous place. + Upon the road oft finding, where he stayed, + Delightful wines, and handsome belle or maid, + With careless ease he loitered up and down.-- + One day there passed him in a country town, + Attended by a page, a lady fair, + Whose charming form and all-engaging air, + At once his bosom fired with fond desire; + And nearer still, her beauties to admire. + He most gallantly saw her safely home; + Attentions charm the sex where'er we roam. + + OUR thoughtless rambler pleasures always sought: + From Rome this spark had num'rous pardons brought; + But,--as to virtues (this too oft we find), + He'd left them,--with his HOLINESS behind! + + THE lady was, by ev'ry one, confessed, + Of beauty, youth, and elegance possessed; + She wanted naught to form her bliss below, + But one whose love would ever fondly flow. + + INDEED so fickle proved this giddy youth, + That nothing long would please his heart or tooth; + Howe'er he earnestly inquired her name, + And ev'ry other circumstance the same. + She's lady, they replied, to great 'squire Good, + Who's almost bald from age 'tis understood; + But as he's rich, and high in rank appears, + Why that's a recompense you know for years. + + THESE facts our young gallant no sooner gained, + But ardent hopes at once he entertained; + To wily plots his mind he quickly bent, + And to a neighb'ring town his servants sent; + Then, at the house where dwelled our noble 'squire, + His humble services proposed for hire. + + PRETENDING ev'ry sort of work he knew, + He soon a fav'rite with old Square-toes grew, + Who (first advising with his charming mate), + Chief falc'ner made him o'er his fine estate. + + THE new domestick much the lady pleased; + He watched and eagerly the moment seized, + His ardent passion boldly to declare, + In which he showed a novice had no share. + + 'TWAS managed well, for nothing but the chase, + Could Square-toes tempt to quit her fond embrace, + And then our falc'ner must his steps attend:-- + The very time he wished at home to spend. + The lady similar emotions showed; + For opportunity their bosoms glowed; + And who will feel in argument so bold, + When this I say, the contrary to hold? + At length with pity Cupid saw the case, + And kindly lent his aid to their embrace. + + ONE night the lady said, with eager eyes, + My dear, among our servants, which d'ye prize, + For moral conduct most and upright heart? + To this her spouse replied, the faithful part + Is with the falc'ner found, I must decide: + To him my life I'd readily confide. + + THEN you are wrong, said she,--most truly so, + For he's a good-for-nothing wretch I know; + You'll scarcely credit it, but t'other day, + He had the barefaced impudence to say, + He loved me much, and then his passion pressed: + I'd nearly fallen, I was so distressed. + To tear his eyes out, I designed at first, + And e'en to choke this wretch, of knaves the worst; + By prudence solely was I then restrained, + For fear the world should think his point was gained. + + THE better then to prove his dark intent, + I feigned an inclination to consent, + And in the garden, promised as to-night, + I'd near the pear-tree meet this roguish wight. + Said I, my husband never moves from hence; + No jealous fancy, but to show the sense + He entertains of my pure, virtuous life, + And fond affection for a loving wife. + Thus circumstanced, your wishes see are vain, + Unless when he's asleep a march I gain, + And softly stealing from his torpid side, + With trembling steps I, to my lover, glide. + So things remain, my dear; an odd affair:-- + On this Square-toes 'gan to curse and swear; + But his fond rib most earnestly besought, + His rage to stifle, as she clearly thought, + He might in person, if he'd take the pain, + Secure the rascal and redress obtain + You know, said she, the tree is near the door, + Upon the left and bears of fruit great store; + But if I may my sentiments express, + In cap and petticoats you'd best to dress; + His insolence is great, and you'll be right, + To give your strokes with double force to night; + Well work his back; flat lay him on the ground:-- + A rascal! honourable ladies round, + No doubt he many times has served the same; + 'Tis such impostors characters defame. + To rouse his wrath the story quite sufficed; + The spouse resolved to do as she advised. + Howe'er to dupe him was an easy lot; + The hour arrived, his dress he soon had got, + Away he ran with anxious fond delight. + In hopes the wily spark to trap that night. + But no one there our easy fool could see, + And while he waited near the fav'rite tree, + Half dead with cold, the falc'ner slyly stole, + To her who had so well contrived the whole; + Time, place, and disposition, all combined + The loving pair to mutual joys resigned. + When our expert gallant had with the dame, + An hour or more indulged his ardent flame, + Though forced at length to quit the loving lass, + 'Twas not without the favourite parting glass; + He then the garden sought, where long the 'squire, + Upon the knave had wished to vent his ire. + + NO sooner he the silly husband spied, + But feigning 'twas the wily wife he eyed, + At once he cried,--ah, vilest of the sex! + Are these thy tricks, so good a man to vex? + Oh shame upon thee! thus to treat his love, + As pure as snow, descending from above. + I could not think thou hadst so base a heart, + But clear it is, thou need'st a friendly part, + And that I'll act: I asked this rendezvous + With full intent to see if thou wert true; + And, God be praised, without a loose design, + To plunge in luxuries pronounced divine. + Protect me Heav'n! poor sinner that I'm here! + To guard thy honour I will persevere. + My worthy master could I thus disgrace? + Thou wanton baggage with unblushing face, + Thee on the spot I'll instantly chastise, + And then thy husband of the fact advise. + + THE fierce harangue o'er Square-toes pleasure spread, + Who, mutt'ring 'tween his teeth, with fervour said: + O gracious Lord! to thee my thanks are due-- + To have a wife so chaste--a man so true! + But presently he felt upon his back + The falc'ner's cudgel vigorously thwack, + Who soundly basted him as on he ran, + To gain the house, with terror, pale and wan. + + THE squire had wished his trusty man, no doubt, + Had not, at cudgelling, been quite so stout; + But since he showed himself so true a friend, + And with his actions could such prudence blend, + The master fully pardoned what he knew, + And quickly to his wife in bed he flew, + When he related every thing that passed + Were we, cried he, a hundred years to last, + My lovely dear, we ne'er on earth could find + A man so faithful, and so well inclined. + I'd have him take within our town a wife, + And you and I'll regard him during life. + In that, replied the lady, we agree, + And heartily thereto I pledged will be. + + + + + + + THE HUSBAND-CONFESSOR + + + WHEN Francis (named the first) o'er Frenchmen reign'd, + In Italy young Arthur laurels gained, + And oft such daring valour showed in fight, + With ev'ry honour he was made a knight; + The monarch placed the spur upon his heel, + That all around his proper worth might feel. + Then household deities at home he sought, + Where--not at prayers his beauteous dame he caught: + He'd left her, truly, quite dissolv'd in tears; + But now the belle had bid adieu to fears; + And oft was dancing joyously around, + With all the company that could be found. + + GALLANTS in crowds Sir Arthur soon perceived; + At sight of these the knight was sorely grieved; + And, turning in his mind how best to act; + Cried he, Can this be truly held a fact, + That I've been worthy while I'd fame in view, + Of cuckoldom at home, and knighthood too? + It ought to be but half:--the truth let's know; + From constancy the purest blessings flow. + Then like a father-confessor he dressed, + And took his seat where priests their flock confessed. + His lady absolution sought that day, + And on her knees before him 'gan to pray; + The minor sins were told with downcast eyes, + And then for hearing those of larger size, + The husband-confessor prepared his ears:-- + Said she, Good father, ('mid a flood of tears), + My bed receives, (the fault I fear's not slight,) + A gentleman, a parson, and a knight. + Still more had followed, but, by rage o'ercome, + Sir Arthur cut the thread, and she was mum; + Though, doubtless, had the fair been let proceed, + Quite long her Litany had been decreed. + + THe husband, in a rage, exclaimed, thou jade, + A parson, say'st thou? t'whom dost think thou'st made + This curst confession?--To my spouse, cried she, + I saw you enter here, and came with glee, + Supposing you'd a trick to raise surprise; + Howe'er 'tis strange that one so very wise, + The riddle should not fully comprehend:-- + A KNIGHT, the king created you, my friend; + A GENTLEMAN, your rank was long ago; + A PARSON, you have made yourself you know. + Goon heav'ns! exclaimed the knight, 'tis very clear, + And I a blockhead surely must appear. + + + + + + + THE COBBLER + + + WE'RE told, that once a cobbler, BLASE by name; + A wife had got, whose charms so high in fame; + But as it happened, that their cash was spent, + The honest couple to a neighbour went, + A corn-factor by trade, not overwise + To whom they stated facts without disguise; + And begged, with falt'ring voice denoting care, + That he, of wheat, would half a measure spare, + Upon their note, which readily he gave, + And all advantages desired to wave. + + THE time for payment came; the money used; + The cash our factor would not be refused; + Of writs he talked, attorneys, and distress; + The reason:--heav'n can tell, and you may guess; + In short, 'twas clear our gay gallant desired, + To cheer the wife, whose beauty all admired. + + SAID he, what anxiously I wish to get, + You've plenty stored, and never wanted yet; + You surely know my meaning?--Yes, she cried; + I'll turn it in my mind, and we'll decide + How best to act. Away she quickly flew, + And Blase informed, what Ninny had in view. + Zounds! said the cobbler, we must see, my dear, + To hook this little sum:--the way is clear; + No risk I'm confident; for prithee run + And tell him I've a journey just begun; + That he may hither come and have his will; + But 'ere he touch thy lips, demand the bill; + He'll not refuse the boon I'm very sure; + Meantime, myself I'll hide and all secure. + The note obtained, cough loudly, strong, and clear; + Twice let it be, that I may plainly hear; + Then forth I'll sally from my lurking place, + And, spite of folly's frowns, prevent disgrace. + + THE plot succeeded as the pair desired; + The cobbler laughed, and ALL his scheme admired: + + A purse-proud cit thereon observed and swore; + 'Twere better to have coughed when all was o'er; + Then you, all three, would have enjoyed your wish, + And been in future all as mute as fish. + + OH! sir, replied the cobbler's wife at ease, + Do you suppose that use can hope to please, + And like your ladies full of sense appear? + (For two were seated with his wedded dear;) + Perhaps my lady 'd act as you describe, + But ev'ry one such prudence don't imbibe. + + + + + + + + THE PEASANT AND HIS ANGRY LORD + + + ONCE on a time, as hist'ry's page relates, + A lord, possessed of many large estates, + Was angry with a poor and humble clod, + Who tilled his grounds and feared his very nod. + Th' offence (as often happens) was but small, + But on him, vowed the peer, his rage should fall-- + Said he, a halter, rascal, you deserve; + You'll never from the gallows-turnpike swerve: + Or, soon or late you swinging will be found + Who, born for hanging, ever yet was drowned? + Howe'er you'll smile to hear my lenient voice; + Observe, three punishments await your choice; + Take which you will.--The first is, you shall eat, + Of strongest garlick, thirty heads complete; + No drink you'll have between, nor sleep, nor rest; + You know a breach of promise I detest. + Or, on your shoulders further I propose, + To give you, with a cudgel, thirty blows. + Or, if more pleasing, that you truly pay, + The sum of thirty pounds without delay. + + THE peasant 'gan to turn things in his mind:-- + Said he, to take the heads I'm not inclined; + No drink, you say, between; that makes it worse; + To eat the garlick thus, would prove a curse. + Nor can I suffer on my tender back, + That, with a cudgel, thirty blows you thwack. + Still harder thirty pounds to pay appeared; + Uncertain how to act, he hanging feared. + The noble peer he begged, upon his knees, + His penitence to hear, and sentence ease. + But mercy dwelled not with the angry lord + Is this, cried he, the answer?--bring a cord. + The peasant, trembling lest his life was sought; + The garlick chose, which presently was brought. + + UPON a dish my lord the number told; + Clod no way liked the garlick to behold. + With piteous mien the garlick head he took, + Then on it num'rous ways was led to look, + And grumbling much, began to spit and eat, + just like a cat with mustard on her meat, + To touch it with his tongue he durst not do; + He knew not how to act or what pursue. + The peer, delighted at the man's distress, + The garlick made him bite, and chew, and press, + Then gulp it down as if delicious fare; + The first he passed; the second made him swear; + The third he found was every whit as sad, + He wished the devil had it, 'twas so bad. + In short, when at the twelfth our wight arrived, + He thought his mouth and throat of skin deprived. + Said he, some drink I earnestly intreat; + What, Greg'ry, cried my lord, dost feel a heat; + In thy repasts dost love to wet thy jaws? + Well! well! I won't object; thou know'st my laws; + Much good may't do thee; here, some wine, some wine! + Yet recollect, to drink, since you design, + That afterward, my friend, you'll have to choose + The thirty blows, or thirty pounds to lose. + But, cried the peasant, I sincerely pray, + Your lordship's goodness, that the garlick may + Be taken in the account, for as to pelf, + Where can an humble lab'rer, like myself, + Expect the sum of thirty pounds to seize? + Then, said the peer, be cudgelled if you please; + Take thirty thwacks; for naught the garlick goes. + To moisten well his throat, and ease his woes, + The peasant drank a copious draught of wine, + And then to bear the cudgel would resign. + + A SINGLE blow he patiently endured; + The second, howsoe'er, his patience cured; + The third was more severe, and each was worse; + The punishment he now began to curse; + Two lusty wights, with cudgels thrashed his back + And regularly gave him thwack and thwack; + He cried, he roared, for grace he begged his lord, + Who marked each blow, and would no ease accord; + But carefully observed, from time to time, + That lenity he always thought sublime; + His gravity preserved; considered too + The blows received and what continued due. + + AT length, when Greg'ry twenty strokes had got, + He piteously exclaimed:--if more's my lot + I never shall survive! Oh! pray forgive, + If you desire, my lord, that I should live. + Then down with thirty pounds, replied the peer, + Since you the blows so much pretend to fear; + I'm sorry for you; but if all the gold + Be not prepared, your godfather, I'm told, + Can lend a part; yet, since so far you've been, + To flinch the rest you surely won't be seen. + + THE wretched peasant to his lordship flew, + And trembling cried--'tis up! the number view! + A scrutiny was made, which nothing gained; + No choice but pay the money now remained; + This grieved him much, and o'er the fellow's face; + The dewy drops were seen to flow apace. + All useless proved:--the full demand he sent, + With which the peer expressed himself content. + Unlucky he whoe'er his lord offends! + To golden ore, howe'er, the proud man bends: + + 'TWAS vain that Gregory a pardon prayed; + For trivial faults the peasant dearly paid; + His throat enflamed--his tender back well beat-- + His money gone--and all to make complete, + Without the least deduction for the pain, + The blows and garlick gave the trembling swain. + + + + + + + THE MULETEER + + + THE Lombard princes oft pervade my mind; + The present tale Boccace relates you'll find; + Agiluf was the noble monarch's name; + Teudelingua he married, beauteous dame, + The last king's widow, who had left no heir, + And whose dominions proved our prince's share. + + No Beauty round compare could with the queen; + And ev'ry blessing on the throne was seen, + When Cupid, in a playful moment, came, + And o'er Agiluf's stable placed his flame; + There left it carelessly to burn at will, + Which soon began a muleteer to fill, + With LOVE'S all-powerful, all-consuming fire, + That naught controls, and youthful breasts desire. + + THE muleteer was pleasing to the sight: + Gallant, good-humoured, airy, and polite, + And ev'ry way his humble birth belied; + A handsome person, nor was sense denied; + He showed it well, for when the youth beheld, + With eyes of love, the queen, who all excelled, + And ev'ry effort anxiously had made, + To stop the flames that would his heart invade; + When vain it proved, he took a prudent part:-- + + WHO can, like Cupid, manage wily art? + Whate'er stupidity we may discern, + His pupils more within a day can learn, + Than MASTERS knowledge in the schools can gain, + Though they in study should ten years remain; + The lowest clown he presently inspires, + With ev'ry tendency that love requires; + Of this our present tale's a proof direct, + And none that feel--its truths will e'er suspect: + + THE am'rous muleteer his thoughts employed; + Consid'ring how his wish might be enjoyed. + Without success to certainty were brought, + Life seemed to him not worth a slender thought; + To hazard ev'ry thing; to live or die! + Possession have!--or in the grave to lie! + + THE Lombard custom was, that when the king, + Who slept not with his queen, (a common thing + In other countries too), desired to greet + His royal consort, and in bed to meet, + A night-gown solely o'er his back he threw, + And then proceeded to the interview, + Knocked softly at the door, on which a fair, + Who waited on the queen with anxious care, + Allowed the prince to enter; took his light, + (Which only glimmered in the midst of night,) + Then put it out, and quickly left the room:-- + A little lantern to dispel the gloom, + With waxen taper that emitted rays-- + In diff'rent countries various are their ways! + + OUR wily, prying, crafty muleteer, + Knew well these forms were current through the year: + He, like the king, at night himself equipped, + And to the queen's superb apartment slipped. + His face concealed the fellow tried to keep; + The waiting dame was more than half asleep; + The lover got access:--soon all was clear; + The prince's coming he had but to fear, + And, as the latter had, throughout the day, + The chase attended an extensive way, + 'Twas more than probable he'd not be led, + (Since such fatigue he'd had,) to quit his bed. + + PERFUMED, quite neat, and lively as a bird, + Our spark (safe entered) uttered not a word. + 'Twas often customary with the king, + When state affairs, or other weighty thing, + Displeasure gave, to take of love his fill, + Yet let his tongue the while continue still. + A singularity we needs must own, + With this the wife was long familiar grown. + + OUR am'rous wight more joys than one received, + If our narrator of the tale's believed; + (In bed a muleteer is worth three kings, + And value oft is found in humble things.) + The queen began to think her husband's rage + Had proved a stimulus such wars to wage, + And made him wond'rous stout in pleasure's sport, + Though all the while his thoughts were-'bout the court. + + WITH perfect justice Heav'n its gifts bestows; + But equal talents all should not compose. + The prince's virtues doubtless were designed, + To take command, and govern o'er mankind. + The lawyer, points of difficulty views, + Decides with judgment, and the truth pursues. + In Cupid's scenes the muleteer succeeds:-- + Each has his part:--none universal meeds. + + WITH pleasures feasted, our gallant retired, + Before the morn fresh blushes had acquired. + But scarcely had he left the tender scene, + 'Ere king Agiluf came to see his queen, + Who much surprise expressed, and to him said: + My dear, I know your love, but from this bed, + You'll recollect how recently you went, + And having wonders done, should be content. + For heav'n's sake, consider more your health; + 'Tis dearer far to me than Croesus' wealth. + + WITHIN the royal breast suspicions rose, + But nothing then the monarch would disclose. + He instantly withdrew without a word; + His sentiments to speak had been absurd, + And to the stable flew, since he believed + The circumstances, which his bosom grieved, + Whate'er mysterious doubts might then appear, + Proceeded from some am'rous muleteer. + + WHEN round the dorture he began to creep, + The troop appeared as if dissolved in sleep, + And so they truly were, save our gallant, + Whose terrors made him tremble, sigh, and pant: + No light the king had got; it still was dark; + Agiluf groped about to find the spark, + Persuaded that the culprit might be known, + By rapid beating of the pulse alone. + The thought was good; to feel the prince began, + And at the second venture, found his man, + Who, whether from the pleasures he'd enjoyed, + Or fear, or dread discov'ry to avoid, + Experienced (spite of ev'ry wily art,) + At once quick beating of the pulse and heart. + In doubt how this adventure yet might end, + He thought to seem asleep would him befriend. + + MEANWHILE the king, though not without much pains, + Obtained the scissors used for horses' manes. + With these, he said, I'll mark the fond gallant, + That I may know again the one I want. + + THE monarch from the muleteer with care, + In front, snipt off a bulky lock of hair. + This having done, he suddenly withdrew; + But carelessly away the trophy threw; + Of which the sly gallant advantage took, + And thus the prince's subtle project shook; + For instantly began our artful spark, + His fellow servants like himself to mark. + + WHEN day arrived the monarch was surprised, + To see each muleteer alike disguised; + No hair in front of either now was seen; + Why, how is this? said he: What can it mean? + Fifteen or more, if I believe my sight, + My wife has satisfied this very night. + Well! well! he'll now escape if mum he prove; + But there again I trust he ne'er shall move. + + + + + + + THE SERVANT GIRL JUSTIFIED + + + BOCCACE alone is not my only source; + T'another shop I now shall have recourse; + Though, certainly, this famed Italian wit + Has many stories for my purpose fit. + But since of diff'rent dishes we should taste; + Upon an ancient work my hands I've placed; + Where full a hundred narratives are told, + And various characters we may behold; + From life, Navarre's fair queen the fact relates; + My story int'rest in her page creates; + Beyond dispute from her we always find, + Simplicity with striking art combin'd. + Yet, whether 'tis the queen who writes, or not; + I shall, as usual, here and there allot + Whate'er additions requisite appear; + Without such license I'd not persevere, + But quit, at once, narrations of the sort; + Some may be long, though others are too short. + + LET us proceed, howe'er (our plan explained:) + A pretty servant-girl a man retain'd. + She pleas'd his eye, and presently he thought, + With ease she might to am'rous sports be brought; + He prov'd not wrong; the wench was blithe and gay, + A buxom lass, most able ev'ry way. + + AT dawn, one summer's morn, the spark was led + To rise, and leave his wife asleep in bed; + He sought at once the garden, where he found + The servant-girl collecting flow'rs around, + To make a nosegay for his better half, + Whose birth-day 'twas:--he soon began to laugh, + And while the ranging of the flow'rs he prais'd, + The servant's neckerchief he slyly rais'd. + Who, suddenly, on feeling of the hand, + Resistance feign'd, and seem'd to make a stand; + But since these liberties were nothing new, + They other fun and frolicks would pursue; + The nosegay at the fond gallant was thrown; + The flow'rs he kiss'd, and now more ardent grown + They romp'd and rattl'd, play'd and skipt around; + At length the fair one fell upon the ground; + Our am'rous spark advantage took of this, + And nothing with the couple seem'd amiss. + + UNLUCKILY, a neighbour's prying eyes + Beheld their playful pranks with great surprise, + She, from her window, could the scene o'erlook; + When this the fond gallant observ'd, he shook; + Said he, by heav'ns! our frolicking is seen, + By that old haggard, envious, prying quean; + But do not heed it; instantly he chose + To run and wake his wife, who quickly rose;-- + So much the dame he fondl'd and caress'd, + The garden walk she took at his request, + To have a nosegay, where he play'd anew + Pranks just the same as those of recent view, + Which highly gratified our lady fair, + Who felt dispos'd, and would at eve repair, + To her good neighbour, whom she bursting found, + With what she'd seen that morn upon the ground. + + THE usual greetings o'er, our envious dame, + With scowling brow exclaim'd,--my dear, your fame, + I love too much not fully to detail, + What I have witnessed, and with truth bewail; + Will you continue, in your house to keep + A girl, whose conduct almost makes me weep? + Anon I'd kick her from your house, I say; + The strumpet should not stay another day. + The wife replied, you surely are deceiv'd; + An honest, virtuous creature she's believ'd. + Well, I can easily, my friend, suppose, + Rejoin'd the neighbour, whence this favour flows; + But look about, and be convinc'd, this morn + From my own window (true as you are born,) + Within the garden I your husband spi'd + And presently the servant girl I ey'd; + At one another various flow'rs they threw, + And then the minx a little graver grew. + I understand you, cried the list'ning fair; + You are deceiv'd:--myself alone was there. + + NEIGHBOUR + + But patience, if you please: attend I pray + You've no conception what I meant to say: + The playful fair was actively employ'd, + In plucking am'rous flow'rs--they kiss'd and toy'd. + + WIFE + + 'Twas clearly I, howe'er, for her you took. + + NEIGHBOUR + + The flow'rs for bosoms quickly they forsook; + Large handfuls frequently they seem'd to grasp, + And ev'ry beauty in its turn to clasp. + + WIFE + + But still, why think you, friend, it was not I? + Has not your spouse with you a right to try + What freaks he likes? + + NEIGHBOUR + + But then, upon the ground + This girl was thrown, and never cried nor frown'd; + You laugh.-- + + WIFE + + Indeed I do, 'twas myself. + + NEIGHBOUR + + A flannel petticoat display'd the elf. + + WIFE + + 'Twas mine: + + NEIGHBOUR + + Be patient:--and inform me, pray, + If this were worn by you or her to-day? + There lies the point, for, if you'll me believe, + Your husband did--the most you can conceive. + + WIFE + + How hard of credence!--'twas myself I vow. + + NEIGHBOUR + + Oh! that's conclusive; I'll be silent now; + Though truly I am led to think, my eyes + Are pretty sharp, and much I feel surprise + At what you say; in fact, I would have sworn, + I saw them thus at romps this very morn; + Excuse the hint, and do not turn her off. + + WIFE + + Why, turn her off?--the very thought I scoff; + She serves me well. + + NEIGHBOUR + + And so it seems is taught; + By all means keep her then, since thus she's thought. + + + + + + + THE THREE GOSSIPS' WAGER + + + AS o'er their wine one day, three gossips sat, + Discoursing various pranks in pleasant chat, + Each had a loving friend, and two of these + Most clearly managed matters at their ease. + + SAID one, a princely husband I have got. + A better in the world there's surely not; + With him I can adjust as humour fits, + No need to rise at early dawn, like cits, + To prove to him that two and three make four, + Or ask his leave to ope or shut the door. + + UPON my word, replied another fair, + If he were mine, I openly declare, + To judge from what so pleasantly you say, + I'd make a present of him new-year's day. + For pleasure never gives me full delight, + Unless a little pain the bliss invite. + No doubt your husband moves as he is led; + Thank heav'n a different mortal claims my bed; + To take him in, great nicety we need; + But howsoe'er, at times I can succeed; + The satisfaction doubly then is felt:-- + In fond emotion bosoms freely melt. + With neither of you, husband or gallant, + Would I exchange, though these so much you vaunt. + + ON this, the third with candour interfer'd; + She thought that oft the god of love appear'd, + Good husbands playfully to fret and vex, + Sometimes to rally couples: then perplex; + But warmer as the conversation grew, + She, anxious that each disputant might view + Herself victorious, (or believe it so,) + Exclaim'd, if either of you wish to show + Who's in the right, with argument have done, + And let us practise some new scheme of fun, + To dupe our husbands; she who don't succeed + Shall pay a forfeit; all replied, "Agreed." + But then, continued she, we ought to take + An oath, that we will full discov'ry make, + To one another of the various facts, + Without disguising even trifling acts. + And then, good upright Macae shall decide; + Thus things arrang'd, the ladies homeward plied. + + SHE, 'mong the three, who felt the most constraint + Ador'd a youth, contemporaries paint, + Well made and handsome, but with beardless chin, + Which led the pair a project to begin; + For yet no opportunity they'd found, + T' enjoy their wishes, save by stealth around; + Most ardently she sought to be at ease, + And 'twas agreed the lucky thought to seize + That like a chambermaid he should be dress'd, + And then proceed to execute the jest, + Attend upon the wily, wedded pair, + And offer services with modest air + And downcast eyes; the husband on her leer'd, + And in her favour prepossess'd appear'd, + In hopes one day, to find those pleasing charms + Resign'd in secret to his longing arms. + Such pretty cheeks and sparkling eyes he thought, + Had ne'er till then his roving fancy caught; + The girl was hir'd, but seemingly with pain, + Since PRUDENCE ultimately might complain, + That (maid and master both so very young) + 'Twould not be wonderful if things went wrong. + + AT first the husband inattention show'd, + And scarcely on the maid a look bestow'd; + But presently he chang'd his conduct quite, + And presents gave, with promises not slight; + At length the servant feign'd to lend an ear, + And anxious seem'd obliging to appear. + + THE trap our cunning lovers having laid, + One eve this message brought the smiling maid; + My lady, sir, is ill, and rest requires, + To sleep alone to-night she much desires. + To grant the master's wish the girl was led, + And they together hurried off to bed. + + THE husband 'tween the sheets himself had plac'd; + The nymph was in her petticoat, unlac'd; + When suddenly appear'd the wily wife, + And promis'd harmony was turn'd to strife. + Are these your freaks, cried she with mark'd surprise; + Your usual dish it seems then don't suffice; + You want, indeed, to have some nicer fare? + A little sooner, by the saints I swear, + You'd me a pretty trick, 'tis clear, have shown, + And doubtless, then, tit bits to keep been prone. + This, howsoe'er, to get you're not design'd, + So elsewhere you may try what you can find. + And as to you, miss Prettyface, you jade, + Good heav'ns! to think a paltry servant maid + Should rival me? I'll beat you black and blue! + The bread I eat, indeed, must be for you? + But I know better, and indeed am clear, + Not one around will fancy I appear + So void of charms, so faded, wither'd, lost, + That I should out of doors at once be tost; + But I will manage matters:--I design + This girl no other bed shall have than mine; + Then who so bold to touch her there will dare? + Come, Miss, let's to my room at once repair; + Away--your things to-morrow you can seek; + If scandal 'twould spread around, I'd wreak + My vengeance instantly, and turn you out; + But I am lenient, and desire no rout; + Perhaps your ruin may be sav'd by care; + So night and day your company I'll share; + No more my bosom then will feel dismay, + For I shall see that you no frolicks play. + + ON this the trembling girl, o'ercome with fears; + Held down her head and seem'd to hide her tears; + Pick'd up her clothes and quickly stole away, + As if afraid her mistress more might say; + And hop'd to act the maid while Sol gave light, + But play at ease the fond gallant at night; + At once she fill'd two places in the house, + And thought in both the husband she should chouse, + Who bless'd his stars that he'd escap'd so well, + And sneak'd alone to rest within his cell, + While our gay, am'rous pair advantage took, + To play at will, and ev'ry solace hook, + Convinc'd most thoroughly, once lovers kiss'd, + That OPPORTUNITY should n'er be miss'd. + Here ends the trick our wily gossip play'd; + But now let's see the plot another laid. + + THE second dame, whose husband was so meek, + That only from her lips the truth he'd seek, + When seated with him 'neath a pear tree's shade, + Contriv'd at ease and her arrangement made. + The story I shall presently relate; + The butler, strong, well dress'd, and full of prate: + Who often made the other servants trot, + Stood near when madam hit upon her plot, + To whom she said, I wish the fruit to taste; + On which the man prepar'd with ev'ry haste, + To climb the tree, and off the produce shook; + But while above, the fellow gave a look + Upon the ground below, and feign'd he saw + The spouse and wife--do more than kiss and paw: + The servant rubb'd his eyes, as if in doubt, + And cried: why truly, sir, if you're so stout, + That you must revel 'mid your lady's charms, + Pray elsewhere take her to your longing arms, + Where you at ease may frolick hours or days, + Without my witnessing your loving ways; + Indeed, I'm quite surprised at what I spy + In publick, 'neath a tree such pranks to try! + And, if you don't a servant's presence heed, + With decency howe'er you should proceed. + What, still go on? for shame, I say, for shame! + Pray wait till by and by; you're much to blame; + Besides, the nights are long enough you'll find; + Heav'n genial joys for privacy design'd; + And why this place, when you've nice chambers got? + What, cried the lady, says this noisy sot? + He surely dreams; Where can he learn these tales? + Come down; let's see what 'tis the fellow ails. + Down William came. How? said the master, how? + Are we at play? + + WILLIAM + + Not now, sir, no, not now. + + HUSBAND + + Why, when then, friend? + + WILLIAM + + While I was in the tree, + Alive, sir, flay me, if I did not see + You on the verdant lawn my lady lay, + And kiss, and toy, and other frolicks play. + + WIFE + + 'Twere surely better if thou held'st thy tongue, + Or thou'lt a beating get before 'tis long. + + HUSBAND + + No, no, my dear, he's mad, and I design + The fellow in a madhouse to confine. + + WILLIAM + Is't folly, pray, to see what we behold? + + WIFE + + What hast thou seen? + + WILLIAM + + What I've already told:-- + My master and yourself at Cupid's game, + Or else the tree 's enchanted I proclaim. + + WIFE + + ENCHANTED! nonsense; such a sight to see! + + HUSBAND + + To know the truth myself, I'll climb the tree, + Then you the fact will quickly from me learn; + We may believe what we ourselves discern. + + SOON as the master they above descried, + And that below our pair he sharply eyed, + The butler took the lady in his arms, + And grew at once familiar with her charms; + At sight of this the husband gave a yell: + Made haste to reach the ground, and nearly fell; + Such liberties he wish'd at once to stop, + Since what he'd seen had nearly made him drop. + How! how!--cried he:--what, e'en before my sight? + What can you mean? said she without affright. + + HUSBAND + + DAR'ST thou to ask again? + + WIFE + + AND why not, pray? + + HUSBAND + + FINE, pretty doings!--Presently you'll say; + That what I've seen 'tis folly to believe. + + WIFE + + Too much is this:--such accusations grieve. + + HUSBAND + + Thou did'st most clearly suffer his embrace. + + WIFE + I? WHY, you dream! + + HUSBAND + + This seems a curious case. + MY reason's flown'! or have I lost my eyes? + + WIFE + + CAN you suppose my character I prize + So very little, that these pranks I'd play + Before your face, when I might ev'ry day + Find minutes to divert myself at will, + And (if lik'd such frolicks) take my fill? + + HUSBAND + + I KNOW not what to think nor what to do; + P'rhaps this same tree can tricks at will pursue; + Let's see again; aloft he went once more, + And William acted as he'd done before; + But now the husband saw the playful squeeze; + Without emotion, and returned at ease. + To find the cause, said he, no longer try, + The tree's enchanted, we may well rely. + + SINCE, that's the fact, replied the cunning jade; + To burn it, quickly William seek fort aid; + The tree accurst no longer shall remain; + Her will the servant wish'd not to restrain, + But soon some workmen brought, who felled the tree; + And wondered what the fault our fair could see. + Down hew it, cried the lady, that's your task; + More concerns you not; folly 'tis to ask. + + OUR second gossip thus obtained success; + But now the third: we'll see if she had less: + To female friends she often visits paid, + And various pastimes there had daily play'd; + A leering lover who was weary grown, + Desired ONE night she'd meet him quite alone. + TWO, if you will, replied the smiling fair; + A trifle 'tis you ask, and I'll repair + Where'er you wish, and we'll recline at ease; + My husband I can manage, if I please, + While thus engag'd.--The parties soon agreed; + But still the lady for her wits had need, + Since her dear man from home but rarely went, + No pardons sought at Rome, but was content + With what he nearer got, while his sweet wife + More fondness mark'd for gratifying life, + And ever anxious, warmest zeal to show, + Was always wishing distant scenes to know; + As pilgrim oft she'd trod a foreign road, + But now desir'd those ancient ways t'explode; + A plan more rare and difficult she sought, + And round her toe our wily dame bethought, + To tie a pack-thread, fasten'd to the door, + Which open'd to the street: then feign'd to snore + Beside her husband, Harry Berlinguier, + (So, usually, they nam'd her wedded dear.) + + HOWE'ER, so cunningly with him she dealt, + That Harry turn'd, and soon the pack-thread felt, + Which rais'd distrust, and led him to suspect + Some bad design the thread was meant t'effect. + + A LITTLE time, as if asleep, he lay + Considering how to act, or what to say; + Then rose, (his spouse believing not awake,) + And softly treading, lest the room should shake; + The pack-thread follow'd to the outer door, + And thence concluded (what he might deplore,) + That his dear partner from her faith would stray, + And some gallant that night design'd to play + The lover's part and draw the secret clue, + When she would rise, and with him freaks pursue, + While he (good husband!) quietly in bed + Might sleep, not dreaming that his wife had fled. + + FOR otherwise, what use such pains to take? + A visit cuckoldom, perhaps, might make; + An honour that he'd willingly decline; + On which he studied how to countermine; + And like a sentinel mov'd to and fro', + To watch if any one would thither go + To pull the string, that he could see with ease, + And then he'd instantly the culprit seize. + + THE reader will perceive, we may suppose, + Besides the entrance which the husband chose, + On t'other side a door, where our gallant + Could enter readily, as he might want, + And there the spark a chambermaid let in:-- + Oft servants prone are found a bribe to win. + + WHILE Berlinguier thus watch'd around and round; + The friends with one another pleasures found; + But heav'n alone knows how nor what they were:-- + No fact transpir'd save all was free from care; + So well the servant kept the careful watch, + That not a chance was given the pair to catch: + + THE spark at dawn the lady left alone, + And ere the husband came the bird was flown; + Then Harry, weary, took his place again, + Complaining, that he'd felt such racking pain, + And dreading, lest alarms her breast should seize, + Within another room he'd sought for ease. + + Two days had pass'd, when madam thought once more, + To set the thread, as she had done before; + He left the bed, pretending he was sick, + Resumed his post; again the lover came, + And, with my lady, play'd the former game. + + THE scheme so well succeeded, that the pair + Thrice wish'd to try the wily pack-thread snare; + The husband with the cholic mov'd away, + His place the bold gallant resum'd till day. + + AT length their ardour 'gan, it seems, to cool, + And Harry, they no longer tried to fool; + 'Twas time to seek the myst'ry of the plot, + Since, to three acts, the comedy was got. + + AT midnight, when the spark had left the bed; + A servant, by his orders, drew the thread; + On whom the husband, without fear, laid hold, + And with him enter'd like a soldier bold, + Not then supposing he'd a valet seiz'd; + Well tim'd it prov'd, howe'er;--the lady pleas'd + Her voice to raise, on hearing what was said, + And through the house confusion quickly spread. + + THE valet now before them bent the knee, + And openly declar'd, he came to see + The chambermaid, whom he was wont to greet, + And by the thread to rouse when time to meet: + + ARE these your knavish tricks, replied the dame, + With eyes upon her maid that darted flame; + When I by chance observ'd about your toe, + A thread one night, I then resolv'd to know + Your scheme in full, and round my own I tied + A clue, on which I thoroughly relied, + To catch this gay gallant, that you pretend + Your husband will become, I apprehend. + + Be that as 'twill, to-night from hence you go. + My dear, said Berlinguier, I'd fain say no; + Let things remain until to-morrow, pray + And then my lady presently gave way. + A fortune Harry on the girl bestow'd; + The like our valet to his master ow'd; + To church the happy couple smiling went:-- + They'd known each other long, and were content. + + THUS ended then, the third and last amour; + The trio hasten'd Macae to implore, + To say which gain'd the bet, who soon replied:-- + I find it, friends, not easy to decide. + + THE case hangs up, and there will long remain; + 'Tis often thus when justice we'd obtain: + + + + + + + THE OLD MAN'S CALENDAR + + OFT have I seen in wedlock with surprise, + That most forgot from which true bliss would rise + When marriage for a daughter is designed, + The parents solely riches seem to mind; + All other boons are left to heav'n above, + And sweet SIXTEEN must SIXTY learn to love! + Yet still in other things they nicer seem, + Their chariot-horses and their oxen-team + Are truly matched;--in height exact are these, + While those each shade alike must have to please; + Without the choice 'twere wonderful to find, + Or coach or wagon travel to their mind. + The marriage journey full of cares appears, + When couples match in neither souls nor years! + An instance of the kind I'll now detail: + The feeling bosom will such lots bewail! + + QUINZICA, (Richard), as the story goes, + Indulged his wife at balls, and feasts, and shows, + Expecting other duties she'd forget, + In which howe'er he disappointment met. + A judge in Pisa, Richard was, it seems, + In law most learned: wily in his schemes; + But silver beard and locks too clearly told, + He ought to have a wife of diff'rent mould; + Though he had taken one of noble birth, + Quite young, most beautiful, and formed for mirth, + Bartholomea Galandi her name; + The lady's parents were of rank and fame; + Our JUDGE herein had little wisdom shown, + And sneering friends around were often known + To say, his children ne'er could fathers lack: + At giving counsel some have got a knack, + Who, were they but at home to turn their eyes, + Might find, perhaps, they're not so over-wise. + + QUINZICA, then perceiving that his pow'rs + Fell short of what a bird like his devours, + T'excuse himself and satisfy his dear, + Pretended that, no day within the year, + To Hymen, as a saint, was e'er assigned, + In calendar, or book of any kind, + When full ATTENTION to the god was paid:-- + To aged sires a nice convenient aid; + But this the sex by no means fancy right; + Few days to PLEASURE could his heart invite + At times, the week entire he'd have a fast; + At others, say the day 'mong saints was classed, + Though no one ever heard its holy name;-- + FAST ev'ry Friday--Saturday the same, + Since Sunday followed, consecrated day; + Then Monday came:--still he'd abstain from play; + Each morning find excuse, but solemn feasts + Were days most sacred held by all the priests; + On abstinence, then, Richard lectures read, + And long before the time, was always led + By sense of right, from dainties to refrain: + A period afterward would also gain; + The like observed before and after Lent; + And ev'ry feast had got the same extent; + These times were gracious for our aged man; + And never pass them was his constant plan. + + OF patron saints he always had a list; + Th' evangelists, apostles, none he miss'd; + And that his scruples might have constant food; + Some days malign, he said, were understood; + Then foggy weather;--dog-days' fervent heat: + To seek excuses he was most complete, + And ne'er asham'd but manag'd things so well, + Four times a year, by special grace, they tell, + Our sage regal'd his youthful blooming wife, + A little with the sweets of marriage life. + + WITH this exception he was truly kind, + Fine dresses, jewels, all to please her mind; + But these are bawbles which alone controul + Those belles, like dolls, mere bodies void of soul. + Bartholomea was of diff'rent clay; + Her only pleasure (as our hist'ries say), + To go in summer to the neighb'ring coast, + Where her good spouse a charming house could boast, + In which they took their lodging once a week; + At times they pleasure on the waves would seek, + As fishing with the lady would agree, + And she was wond'rous partial to the sea, + Though far to sail they always would refuse. + One day it happened better to amuse, + Our couple diff'rent fishing vessels took, + And skimm'd the wave to try who most could hook, + Of fish and pleasure; and they laid a bet, + The greatest number which of them should get. + On board they had a man or two at most. + And each the best adventure hop'd to boast. + + 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. + + LOOK, said Quinzica, she's ashamed 'tis plain + So many lookers on her love restrain; + But be assured, if we were left alone, + Around my neck her arms would soon be thrown. + + IF this, replied the pirate, you believe, + Attend her toilet:--naught can then deceive. + Away they went, and closely shut the door; + When Richard said, thou darling of my store, + How can'st thou thus behave? my pretty dove, + 'Tis thy Quinzica, come to seek his love, + In all the same, except about his wife; + Dost in this face a change observe my life? + 'Tis grieving for thy loss that makes me ill; + Did ever I in aught deny thy will? + In dress or play could any thee exceed? + And had'st thou not whatever thou might'st need? + To please thee, oft I made myself a slave; + Such thou art now; but thee again I crave. + Then what dost think about thy honour, dear?-- + Said she, with ire, I neither know nor fear; + Is this a time to guard it, do you say? + What pain was shown by any one, I pray; + When I was forc'd to wed a man like you, + Old, impotent, and hateful to the view, + While I was young and blooming as the morn, + Deserving truly, something less forlorn, + And seemingly intended to possess + What Hymen best in store has got to bless; + For I was thought by all the world around, + Most worthy ev'ry bliss in wedlock found. + + YET things took quite another turn with me + In tune my husband never proved to be, + Except a feast or two throughout the year; + From Pagamin I met a diff'rent cheer; + Another lesson presently he taught; + The life's sweet pleasures more the pirate brought, + In two short days, than e'er I had from you + In those four years that only you I knew. + + PRAY leave me husband:--let me have my will + Insist not on my living with you still; + No calendars with Pagamin are seen-- + Far better treated with the man I've been. + My other friends and you much worse deserved: + The spouse, for taking me when quite unnerved, + And they, for giving preference base to gold, + To those pure joys--far better thought than told. + But Pagamin in ev'ry way can please; + And though no code he owns, yet all is ease; + Himself will tell you what has passed this morn, + His actions would a sov'reign prince adorn. + Such information may excite surprise, + But now the truth, 'twere useless to disguise, + Nothing will gain belief, we've no one near + To witness our discourse:--adieu, my dear, + To all your festivals--I'm flesh and blood:-- + Gems, dresses, ornaments, do little good; + You know full well, betwixt the head and heel, + Though little's said, yet much we often feel. + On this she stopt, and Richard dropt his chin, + Rejoiced to 'scape from such unwelcome din. + + BARTHOLOMEA, pleased with what had passed; + No disposition showed to hold him fast; + The downcast husband felt such poignant grief, + With ills where age can scarcely hope relief, + That soon he left this busy stage of life, + And Pagamin the widow took to wife. + The deed was just, for neither of the two + E'er felt what oft in Richard rose to view; + From feeling proof arose their mutual choice; + And 'tween them ne'er was heard the jarring voice. + + BEHOLD a lesson for the aged man; + Who thinks, when old, to act as he began; + But, if the sage a yielding dotard seems, + His work is done by those the wife esteems; + Complaints are never heard; no thrilling fears; + And ev'ry one around at ease appears. + + + + + + + THE AVARICIOUS WIFE AND + TRICKING GALLANT + + WHO knows the world will never feel surprise, + When men are duped by artful women's eyes; + Though death his weapon freely will unfold; + Love's pranks, we find, are ever ruled by gold. + To vain coquettes I doubtless here allude; + But spite of arts with which they're oft endued; + I hope to show (our honour to maintain,) + We can, among a hundred of the train, + Catch one at least, and play some cunning trick:-- + For instance, take blithe Gulphar's wily nick, + Who gained (old soldier-like) his ardent aim, + And gratis got an avaricious dame. + + LOOK well at this, ye heroes of the sword, + Howe'er with wily freaks your heads be stored, + Beyond a doubt, at court I now could find, + A host of lovers of the Gulphar kind. + + To Gasperin's so often went our wight, + The wife at length became his sole delight, + Whose youth and beauty were by all confessed; + But, 'midst these charms, such av'rice she possessed, + The warmest love was checked--a thing not rare, + In modern times at least, among the FAIR. + 'Tis true, as I've already said, with such + Sighs naught avail, and promises not much; + Without a purse, who wishes should express, + Would vainly hope to gain a soft caress. + The god of love no other charm employs, + Then cards, and dress, and pleasure's cheering joys; + From whose gay shops more cuckolds we behold, + Than heroes sallied from Troy's horse of old. + + BUT to our lady's humour let's adhere; + Sighs passed for naught: they entered not her ear; + 'Twas speaking only would the charmer please, + The reader, without doubt, my meaning sees; + Gay Gulphar plainly spoke, and named a sum + A hundred pounds, she listened:--was o'ercome. + + OUR wight the cash by Gasperin was lent; + And then the husband to the country went, + Without suspecting that his loving mate, + Designed with horns to ornament his pate. + + THE money artful Gulphar gave the dame, + While friends were round who could observe the same; + Here, said the spark, a hundred pounds receive, + 'Tis for your spouse:--the cash with you I leave. + The lady fancied what the swain had said, + Was policy, and to concealment led. + + NEXT morn our belle regaled the arch gallant, + Fulfilled his promise:--and his eager want. + Day after day he followed up the game; + For cash he took, and int'rest on the same; + Good payers get, we always may conclude, + Full measure served, whatever is pursued. + + WHEN Gasperin returned, our crafty wight, + Before the wife addressed her spouse at sight; + Said he the cash I've to your lady paid, + Not having (as I feared) required its aid; + To save mistakes, pray cross it in your book; + The lady, thunderstruck, with terror shook; + Allowed the payment; 'twas a case too clear; + In truth for character she 'gan to fear. + But most howe'er she grudged the surplus joy, + Bestowed on such a vile, deceitful boy. + + THE loss was doubtless great in ev'ry view + Around the town the wicked Gulphar flew; + In all the streets, at every house to tell, + How nicely he had trick'd the greedy belle. + + To blame him useless 'twere you must allow; + The French such frolicks readily avow. + + + + + + + THE JEALOUS HUSBAND + + A CERTAIN husband who, from jealous fear, + With one eye slept while t'other watched his dear, + Deprived his wife of every social joy, + (Friends oft the jealous character annoy,) + And made a fine collection in a book, + Of tricks with which the sex their wishes hook. + Strange fool! as if their wiles, to speak the truth, + Were not a hydra, both in age and youth. + + HIS wife howe'er engaged his constant cares; + He counted e'en the number of her hairs; + And kept a hag who followed every hour, + Where'er she went, each motion to devour; + Duenna like, true semblance of a shade, + That never quits, yet moves as if afraid. + + THIS arch collection, like a prayer-book bound; + Was in the blockhead's pocket always found, + The form religious of the work, he thought, + Would prove a charm 'gainst vice whenever sought! + + ONE holy day, it happened that our dame, + As from the neighb'ring church she homeward came; + And passed a house, some wight, concealed from view; + A basket full of filth upon her threw. + + WITH anxious care apologies were made; + The lady, frightened by the frolick played, + Quite unsuspicious to the mansion went; + Her aged friend for other clothes she sent, + Who hurried home, and ent'ring out of breath; + Informed old hunks--what pained him more than death + + ZOUNDS! cried the latter, vainly I may look + To find a case like this within my book; + A dupe I'm made, and nothing can be worse:-- + Hell seize the work--'tis thoroughly a curse! + + NOT wrong he proved, for, truly to confess; + This throwing dirt upon the lady's dress + Was done to get the hag, with Argus' eyes + Removed a certain distance from the prize. + The gay gallant, who watched the lucky hour, + Felt doubly blessed to have her in his power. + + HOW vain our schemes to guard the wily sex! + Oft plots we find, that ev'ry sense perplex. + Go, jealous husbands, books of cases burn; + Caresses lavish, and you'll find return. + + + + + + + THE GASCON PUNISHED + + A GASCON (being heard one day to swear, + That he'd possess'd a certain lovely fair,) + Was played a wily trick, and nicely served; + 'Twas clear, from truth he shamefully had swerved: + But those who scandal propagate below, + Are prophets thought, and ev'ry action know; + While good, if spoken, scarcely is believed, + And must be viewed, or not for truth received. + + THE dame, indeed, the Gascon only jeered, + And e'er denied herself when he appeared; + But when she met the wight, who sought to shine; + And called her angel, beauteous and divine, + She fled and hastened to a female friend, + Where she could laugh, and at her ease unbend. + + NEAR Phillis, (our fair fugitive) there dwelled + One Eurilas, his nearest neighbour held; + His wife was Cloris; 'twas with her our dove + Took shelter from the Gascon's forward love, + Whose name was Dorilas; and Damon young, + (The Gascon's friend) on whom gay Cloris hung. + + SWEET Phillis, by her manner, you might see, + From sly amours and dark intrigues was free; + The value to possess her no one knew, + Though all admired the lovely belle at view. + Just twenty years she counted at the time, + And now a widow was, though in her prime, + (Her spouse, an aged dotard, worth a plum:-- + Of those whose loss to mourn no tears e'er come.) + + OUR seraph fair, such loveliness possessed, + In num'rous ways a Gascon could have blessed; + Above, below, appeared angelic charms; + 'Twas Paradise, 'twas Heav'n, within her arms! + + THE Gascon was--a Gascon;--would you more? + Who knows a Gascon knows at least a score. + I need not say what solemn vows he made; + Alike with Normans Gascons are portrayed; + Their oaths, indeed, won't pass for Gospel truth; + But we believe that Dorilas (the youth) + Loved Phillis to his soul, our lady fair, + Yet he would fain be thought successful there. + + ONE day, said Phillis, with unusual glee, + Pretending with the Gascon to be free:-- + A favour do me:--nothing very great; + Assist to dupe one jealous of his mate; + You'll find it very easy to be done, + And doubtless 'twill produce a deal of fun. + 'Tis our request (the plot you'll say is deep,) + That you this night with Cloris's husband sleep + Some disagreement with her gay gallant + Requires, that she a night at least should grant, + To settle diff'rences; now we desire, + That you'll to bed with Eurilas retire, + There's not a doubt he'll think his Cloris near; + He never touches her:--so nothing fear; + For whether jealousy, or other pains, + He constantly from intercourse abstains, + Snores through the night, and, if a cap he sees, + Believes his wife in bed, and feels at ease. + We'll properly equip you as a belle, + And I will certainly reward you well. + + TO gain but Phillis's smiles, the Gascon said, + He'd with the very devil go to bed. + + THE night arrived, our wight the chamber traced; + The lights extinguished; Eurilas, too, placed; + The Gascon 'gan to tremble in a trice, + And soon with terror grew as cold as ice; + Durst neither spit nor cough; still less encroach; + And seemed to shrink, least t'other should approach; + Crept near the edge; would scarcely room afford, + And could have passed the scabbard of a sword. + + OFT in the night his bed-fellow turned round; + At length a finger on his nose he found, + Which Dorilas exceedingly distressed; + But more inquietude was in his breast, + For fear the husband amorous should grow, + From which incalculable ills might flow. + + OUR Gascon ev'ry minute knew alarm; + 'Twas now a leg stretched out, and then an arm; + He even thought he felt the husband's beard; + But presently arrived what more he feared. + + A BELL, conveniently, was near the bed, + Which Eurilas to ring was often led; + At this the Gascon swooned, so great his fear, + And swore, for ever he'd renounce his dear. + But no one coming, Eurilas, once more, + Resumed his place, and 'gan again to snore. + + AT length, before the sun his head had reared; + The door was opened, and a torch appeared. + Misfortune then he fancied full in sight; + More pleased he'd been to rise without a light, + And clearly thought 'twas over with him now; + The flame approached;--the drops ran o'er his brow; + With terror he for pardon humbly prayed:-- + You have it, cried a fair: be not dismayed; + 'Twas Phillis spoke, who Eurilas's place + Had filled, throughout the night, with wily grace, + And now to Damon and his Cloris flew, + With ridicule the Gascon to pursue; + Recounted all the terrors and affright, + Which Dorilas had felt throughout the night. + To mortify still more the silly swain, + And fill his soul with ev'ry poignant pain, + She gave a glimpse of beauties to his view, + And from his presence instantly withdrew. + + + + + + + THE PRINCESS BETROTHED TO THE + KING OF GARBA + + WHAT various ways in which a thing is told + Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold; + In stories we invention may admit; + But diff'rent 'tis with what historick writ; + Posterity demands that truth should then + Inspire relation, and direct the pen. + + ALACIEL'S story's of another kind, + And I've a little altered it, you'll find; + Faults some may see, and others disbelieve; + 'Tis all the same:--'twill never make me grieve; + Alaciel's mem'ry, it is very clear, + Can scarcely by it lose; there's naught to fear. + Two facts important I have kept in view, + In which the author fully I pursue; + The one--no less than eight the belle possessed, + Before a husband's sight her eyes had blessed; + The other is, the prince she was to wed + Ne'er seemed to heed this trespass on his bed, + But thought, perhaps, the beauty she had got + Would prove to any one a happy lot. + + HOWE'ER this fair, amid adventures dire, + More sufferings shared than malice could desire; + Though eight times, doubtless, she exchanged her knight + No proof, that she her spouse was led to slight; + 'Twas gratitude, compassion, or good will; + The dread of worse;--she'd truly had her fill; + Excuses just, to vindicate her fame, + Who, spite of troubles, fanned the monarch's flame: + Of eight the relict, still a maid received;-- + Apparently, the prince her pure believed; + For, though at times we may be duped in this, + Yet, after such a number--strange to miss! + And I submit to those who've passed the scene, + If they, to my opinion, do not lean. + + THE king of Alexandria, Zarus named, + A daughter had, who all his fondness claimed, + A star divine Alaciel shone around, + The charms of beauty's queen were in her found; + With soul celestial, gracious, good, and kind, + And all-accomplished, all-complying mind. + + THE rumour of her worth spread far and wide, + The king of Garba asked her for his bride, + And Mamolin (the sov'reign of the spot,) + To other princes had a pref'rence got. + + THE fair, howe'er, already felt the smart + Of Cupid's arrow, and had lost her heart; + But 'twas not known: princesses love conceal, + And scarcely dare its whispers fond reveal; + Within their bosoms poignant pain remains, + Though flesh and blood, like lasses of the plains. + + THE noble Hispal, one of zarus' court, + A handsome youth, as histories report, + Alaciel pleased; a mutual flame arose, + Though this they durst not venture to disclose + Or, if expressed, 'twas solely by the eyes:-- + Soul-speaking language, nothing can disguise! + + AFFIANCED thus, the princess, with a sigh, + Prepared to part, and fully to comply. + The father trusted her to Hispal's care, + Without the least suspicion of the snare; + They soon embarked and ploughed the briny main; + With anxious hopes in time the port to gain. + + WHEN they, from Egypt's coast had sailed a week; + To gain the wind they saw a pirate seek, + Which having done, he t'wards them bore in haste, + To take the ship in which our fair was placed. + + THE battle quickly raged; alike they erred; + The pirates slaughter loved, and blood preferred, + And, long accustomed to the stormy tide, + Were most expert, and on their skill relied. + In numbers, too, superior they were found; + But Hisipal's valour greatly shone around, + And kept the combat undecided long; + At length Grifonio, wond'rous large and strong; + With twenty sturdy, pirates got on board, + And many soon lay gasping by the sword. + Where'er he trod, grim death and horrour reigned; + At length, the round the noble Hispal gained. + His nervous arm laid many wretches low + Rage marked his eyes, whene'er he dealt a blow: + + BUT, while the youth was thus engaged in fight, + Grifonio ran to gain a sweeter sight; + The princess was on board full well he knew; + No time he lost, but to her chamber flew; + And, since his pleasures seemed to be her doom; + He bore her like a sparrow from the room: + But not content with such a charming fair, + He took her diamonds, ornaments for hair, + And those dear pledges ladies oft receive, + When they a lover's ardent flame believe. + Indeed, I've heard it hinted as a truth, + (And very probable for such a youth,) + That Hispal, while on board, his flame revealed; + And what chagrin she felt was then concealed, + The passage thinking an improper time, + To shew a marked displeasure at his crime. + + THE pirate-chief who carried off his prey, + Had short-lived joy, for, wishing to convey + His charming captive from the ship with speed; + One vessel chanced a little to recede, + Although securely fastened by the crew, + With grappling hooks, as usually they do, + When quite intent to pass, young Hispal made + A blow, that dead at once the ruffian laid; + His head and shoulders, severed from the trunk; + Fell in the sea, and to the bottom sunk, + Abjuring Mahomet, and all the tribe + Of idle prophets, Catholics proscribe; + Erect the rest upon the legs remained; + The very posture as before retained; + This curious sight no doubt a laugh had raised,-- + But in the moment, she, so lately praised, + With dread Grifonio, fell beyond their view; + To save her, straight the gallant Hispal flew. + The ships, for want of pilots at the helm, + At random drifted over Neptune's realm. + + GRIM death the pirate forced to quit his slave; + Buoyed up by clothes, she floated on the wave, + 'Till Hispal succour lent, who saw 'twas vain + To try with her the vessel to regain. + He could, with greater ease, the fair convey + To certain rocks, and thither bent his way; + Those rocks to sailors oft destruction proved, + But now the couple saved, who thither moved: + 'Tis even said the jewels were not lost, + But sweet Alaciel, howsoever tost, + Preserved the caskets, which with strings were tied; + And seizing these, the treasure drew aside. + + OUR swimmer on his back the princess bore; + The rock attained; but hardships were not o'er; + Misfortunes dire the noble pair pursued + And famine, worst of ills, around was viewed. + No ship was near; the light soon passed away; + The night the same; again appeared the day; + No vessel hove in sight; no food to eat; + Our couple's wretchedness seemed now complete; + Hope left them both, and, mutual passion moved, + Their situation more tormenting proved. + + LONG time in silence they each other eyed + At length, to speak the lovely charmer tried + Said she, 'tis useless, Hispal, to bewail: + Tears, with the cruel Parcae, naught avail; + Each other to console be now our aim; + Grim death his course will follow still the same. + To mitigate the smart let's try anew; + In such a place as this few joys accrue. + + CONSOLE each other, say you? Hispal cried; + What can console when forced one's love to hide? + Besides, fair princess, ev'ry way 'tis clear, + Improper 'twere for you to love while here; + I equally could death or famine brave; + But you I tremble for, and wish to save. + + THESE words so pained the fair, that gushing tears + Bedewed Alaciel's cheeks, her looks spoke fears; + The ardent flame which she'd so long concealed; + Burst forth in sighs, and all its warmth revealed; + While such emotion Hispal's eyes expressed, + That more than words his anxious wish confessed. + These tender scenes were followed by a kiss, + The prelude sweet of soft enchanting bliss; + But whether taken, or by choice bestowed, + Alike 'twas clear, their heaving bosoms glowed. + + THOSE vows now o'er, said Hispal with a sigh, + In this adventure, if we're doomed to die, + Indiff'rent surely 'tis, the prey to be + Of birds of air, or fishes of the sea; + My reason tells me ev'ry grave's the same, + Return we must, at last, from whence we came, + Here ling'ring death alone we can expect; + To brave the waves 'tis better to elect; + I yet have strength, and 'tis not far to land; + The wind sets fair: let's try to gain the strand; + From rock to rock we'll go: I many view, + Where I can rest; to THIS we'll bid adieu. + + TO move, Alaciel readily agreed; + Again our couple ventured to proceed; + The casket safe in tow; the weather hot; + From rock to rock with care our swimmer got; + The princess, anxious on his back to keep:-- + New mode of traversing the wat'ry deep. + + WITH Heav'n's assistance, and the rocks for rest, + The youth, by hunger and fatigue oppressed, + Uneasiness of mind, weighed down with care, + Not for himself, but safety of the fair, + A fast of two long tedious days now o'er, + The casket and the belle he brought on shore: + + I THINK you cry--how wond'rously exact, + To bring the casket into ev'ry act! + Is that a circumstance of weight I pray? + It truly seems so, and without delay, + You'll see if I be wrong; no airy flight, + Or jeer, or raillery, have I in sight. + Had I embarked our couple in a ship + Without or cash or jewels for the trip, + Distress had followed, you must be aware; + 'Tis past our pow'r to live on love or air; + In vain AFFECTION ev'ry effort tries + Inexorable hunger ALL defies. + + THE casket, with the diamonds proved a source, + To which 'twas requisite to have recourse; + Some Hispal sold, and others put in pawn, + And purchased, near the coast, a house and lawn; + With woods, extensive park, and pleasure ground; + And many bow'rs and shady walks around, + Where charming hours they passed, and this 'twas plain, + Without the casket they could n'er obtain. + + BENEATH the wood there was a secret grot, + Where lovers, when they pleased, concealment got, + A quiet, gloomy, solitary place, + Designed by nature for the billing race. + + ONE day, as through the grove a walk they sought, + The god of love our couple thither brought; + His wishes, Hispal, as they went along, + Explained im part by words direct and strong; + The rest his sighs expressed, (they spoke the soul;)-- + The princess, trembling, listened to the whole. + + SAID he, we now are in a place retired, + Unknown to man, (such spots how oft desired!) + Let's take advantage of the present hour: + No joys, but those of LOVE, are in our pow'r; + All others see withdrawn! and no one knows + We even live; perhaps both friends and foes + Believe us in the belly of a whale; + Allow me, lovely princess, to prevail; + Bestow your kindness, or, without delay, + Those charms to Mamolin let me convey. + Yet, why go thither?--happy you could make + The man, whose constancy no perils shake, + What would you more?--his passion's ardent grown; + And surely you've enough resistance shown. + + SUCH tender elocution Hispal used, + That e'en to marble, 'Twould have warmth infused; + While fair Alaciel, on the bark of trees, + With bodkin wrote, apparently at ease. + But Cupid drew her thoughts to higher things, + Than merely graving what from fancy springs. + Her lover and the place, at once assured, + That such a secret would be well secured; + A tempting bait, which made her, with regret, + Resist the witching charm that her beset. + + UNLUCKILY, 'twas then the month of May, + When youthful hearts are often led astray, + And soft desire can scarcely be concealed, + But presses through the pores to be revealed. + How many do we see, by slow degrees, + And, step by step, accord their ALL to please, + Who, at the onset, never dreamed to grant + The smallest favour to their fond gallant. + The god of love so archly acts his part, + And, in unguarded moments, melts the heart, + That many belles have tumbled in the snare, + Who, how it happened, scarcely could declare. + + WHEN they had reached the pleasing secret spot; + Young Hispal wished to go within the grot; + Though nearly overcome, she this declined; + But then his services arose to mind; + Her life from Ocean's waves, her honour too, + To him she owed; what could he have in view? + A something, which already has been shown, + Was saved through Hispal's nervous arm alone: + Said he, far better bless a real friend, + Than have each treasure rifled in the end, + By some successful ruffian; think it o'er; + You little dream for whom you guard the store. + + THE princess felt the truth of this remark, + And half surrendered to the loving spark; + A show'r obliged the pair, without delay, + To seek a shed:--the place I need not say; + The rest within the grotto lies concealed:-- + The scenes of Cupid ne'er should be revealed. + Alaciel blame, or not--I've many known, + With less excuses, who've like favours shown. + + ALONE the cavern witnessed not their bliss; + In love, a point once gained, naught feels amiss, + If trees could speak that grew within the dell, + What joys they viewed--what stories they might tell! + The park, the lawn, the pleasure grounds, and bow'rs, + The belts of roses, and the beds of flow'rs, + All, all could whisper something of the kind; + At length, both longed their friends again to find, + Quite cloyed with love, they sighed to be at court; + Thus spoke the fair her wishes to support. + + LOVED youth, to ME you must be ever dear; + To doubt it would ungen'rous now appear; + But tell me, pray, what's love without desire, + Devoid of fear, and nothing to acquire? + Flame unconfined is soon exhausted found, + But, thwarted in its course 'twill long abound; + I fear this spot, which we so highly prize, + Will soon appear a desert in our eyes, + And prove at last our grave; relieve my woe; + At once to Alexandria, Hispal go; + Alive pronounced, you presently will see, + What worthy people think of you and me; + Conceal our residence, declare you came, + My journey to prepare, (your certain aim,) + And see that I've a num'rous escort sent, + To guard me from a similar event. + By it, believe me, you shall nothing lose; + And this is what I willingly would choose; + For, be I single, or in Hymen's band, + I'd have you follow me by sea and land, + And be assured, should favour I withdraw, + That I've observed in you some glaring flaw. + + WERE her intentions fully as expressed, + Or contrary to what her lips confessed, + No matter which her view, 'twas very plain, + If she would Hispal's services retain, + 'Twere right the youth with promises to feed, + While his assistance she so much must need: + As soon as he was ready to depart + She pressed him fondly to her glowing heart, + And charged him with a letter to the king; + This Hispal hastened to the prince to bring; + Each sail he crowded:--plied with ev'ry oar; + A wind quite fair soon brought him to shore; + To court he went, where all with eager eyes, + Demanded if he lived, amid surprise, + And where he left the princess; what her state? + These questions answered, Hispal, quite elate, + Procured the escort, which, without delay, + Though leaving him behind, was sent away: + No dark mistrust retained the noble youth; + But Zarus wished it: such appeared the truth. + + BY one of early years the troop was led, + A handsome lad, and elegantly bred. + He landed with his party near the park. + And these in two divided ere 'twas dark. + + ONE half he left a guard upon the shore, + And with the other hastened to the door, + Where dwelled the belle, who daily fairer grew: + Our chief was smitten instantly at view; + And, fearing opportunity again, + Like this, perhaps, he never might obtain, + Avowed at once his passion to the fair; + At which she frowned, and told him, with an air; + To recollect his duty, and her rank:-- + With equals only, he should be so frank. + + ON these occasions, prudent 'tis to show + Your disappointment by a face of woe; + Seem ev'ry way the picture of despair:-- + This countenance our knight appeared to wear; + To starve himself he vowed was his design; + To use the poniard he should ne'er incline, + For then no time for penitence would rest.-- + The princess of his folly made a jest. + He fasted one whole day; she-tried in vain + To make him from the enterprise refrain. + + AT length, the second day she 'gan to feel, + And strong emotion scarcely could conceal. + What! let a person die her charms could save! + 'Twas cruel, thus to treat a youth so brave. + Through pity, she at last, to please the chief, + Consented to bestow on him relief; + For, favours, when conferred with sullen air, + But little gratify she was aware. + + WHen satisfied the smart gallant appeared, + And anxiously to putting off adhered, + Pretending that the wind and tide would fail; + The galleys sometimes were unfit to sail, + Repairs required; then further heard the news, + That certain pirates had unpleasant views; + To fall upon the escort they'd contrived: + At length, a pirate suddenly arrived, + Surprized the party left upon the shore, + Destroyed the whole; then sought the house for more, + And scaled the walls while darkness spread around. + The pirate was Grifonio's second found, + Who, in a trice, the noble mansion took, + And joy gave place to grief in ev'ry look. + + THe Alexandrian swore and cursed his lot; + The pirate soon the lady's story got, + And, taking her aside, his share required + Such impudence Alaciel's patience tired, + Who, ev'ry thing refused with haughty air; + Of this, howe'er, the robber was aware; + In Venus' court no novice was he thought; + To gain the princess anxiously he sought; + Said he, you'd better take me as a friend; + I'm more than pirate, and you'll comprehend, + As you've obliged one dying swain to fast, + You fast in turn, or you'll give way at last; + 'Tis justice this demands: we sons of sea + Know how to deal with those of each degree; + Remember you will nothing have to eat, + Till your surrender fully is complete. + + NO haggling, princess pray, my word receive; + What could be done, her terror to relieve? + Above all law is might:--'twill take its course; + Entire submission is the last resource. + + OF'T what we would not, we're obliged to do, + When fate our steps with rigour will pursue. + No folly greater than to heighten pain, + When we are sensible relief is vain. + What she, through pity, to another gave, + Might well be granted when herself 'twould save. + + AT length she yielded to this suitor rude:-- + No grief so great, but what may be subdued. + 'Twould in the pirate doubtless have been wise, + The belle to move, and thus prevent surprise; + But who, from folly in amours is free? + The god of love and wisdom ne'er agree. + + WHILE our gay pirate thought himself at ease, + The wind quite fair to sail when he might please, + Dame Fortune, sleepy only while we wake, + And slily watching when repose we take, + Contrived a trick the cunning knave to play, + And this was put in force ere break of day. + + A LORD, the owner of a neighb'ring seat, + Unmarried;--fond of what was nice and neat, + Without attachment, and devoid of care, + Save something new to meet among the FAIR; + Grew tired of those he long around had viewed, + Now constantly, in thought, our belle pursued. + He'd money, friends, and credit all his days, + And could two thousand men at pleasure raise: + One charming morn, together these he brought; + Said he, brave fellows, can it well be thought, + That we allow a pirate, (dire disgrace!) + To plunder as he likes before our face, + And make a slave of one whose form 's divine? + Let's to the castle, such is my design, + And from the ruffian liberate the fair; + This evening ev'ry one will here repair, + Well armed, and then in silence we'll proceed, + (By night 'tis nothing will impede,) + And ere Aurora peeps, perform the task; + The only booty that I mean to ask + Is this fair dame; but not a slave to make, + I anxiously desire to let her take + Whate'er is her's:--restore her honour too; + All other things I freely leave to you; + Men, horses, baggage, in a word, the whole + Of what the knavish rascals now control. + Another thing, howe'er:--I wish to hang + The pirate instantly, before his gang. + + THIS speech so well succeeded to inspire, + That scarcely could the men retain their ire. + + THE evening came, the party soon arrived; + They ate not much, but drink their rage revived. + By such expensive treats we've armies known, + In Germany and Flanders overthrown; + And our commander was of this aware + 'Twas prudent, surely, no expense to spare. + + THEY carried ladders for the escalade, + And each was furnished with a tempered blade; + No other thing embarrassing they'd got; + No drums; but all was silent as the grot. + + THEY reached the house when nearly break of day, + The time old Morpheus' slumbers often weigh; + The gang, with few exceptions, (then asleep), + Were sent, their vigils with grim death to keep. + + THE chief hung up:--the princess soon appeared; + Her spirits presently our champion cheered; + The pirate scarcely had her bosom moved:-- + No tears at least a marked affection proved; + But, by her prayers she pardon sought to gain, + For some who were not in the conflict slain; + Consoled the dying, and lamented those, + Who, by the sword, had closed their book of woes: + Then left the place without the least regret, + Where such adventures and alarms she'd met. + 'Tis said, indeed, she presently forgot + The two gallants who last became her lot; + And I can easily the fact believe: + Removed from sight, but few for lovers grieve. + + SHE, by her neighbour, was received, we're told, + 'Mid costly furniture and burnished gold; + We may suppose what splendour shone around, + When all-attracting he would fain be found; + The best of wines; each dish considered rare:-- + The gods themselves received not better fare: + Till then, Alaciel ne'er had tasted wine; + Her faith forbade a liquor so divine; + And, unacquainted with the potent juice, + She much indulged at table in its use. + If lately LOVE disquieted her brain, + New poison now pervaded ev'ry vein; + Both fraught with danger to the beauteous FAIR, + Whose charms should guarded be with ev'ry care. + + THE princess by the maids in bed was placed; + Then thither went the host with anxious haste, + What sought he? you will ask:--mere torpid charms:-- + I wish the like were clasped within my arms. + Give me as much, said one the other week, + And see if I'd a neighbour's kindness seek. + Through Morpheus' sleepy pow'r, and Bacchus' wine: + Our host, at length, completed his design. + + ALACIEL, when at morn, she oped her eyes, + Was quite o'ercome with terror and surprise, + No tears would flow, and fear restrained her voice; + Unable to resist, she'd got no choice. + + A NIGHT thus passed, the wily lover said, + Must surely give a license to your bed. + The princess thought the same; but our gallant, + Soon cloyed, for other conquests 'gan to pant. + + THE host one evening from the mansion went; + A friend he left himself to represent, + And with the charming fair supply his place, + Which, in the dark he thought, with easy grace, + Might be effected, if he held his tongue, + And properly behaved the whole night long. + To this the other willingly agreed; + (What friend would be refused, if thus in need?) + And this new-comer had complete success + He scarcely could his ecstacy express. + + THE dame exclaimed:--pray how could he pretend; + To treat me so, and leave me to a friend? + The other thought the host was much to blame; + But since 'tis o'er, said he, be now your aim, + To punish his contempt of beauteous charms; + With favours load me--take me to your arms; + Caress with fond embrace; bestow delight; + And seem to love me, though in mere despite. + + SHE followed his advice: avenged the wrong; + And naught omitted, pleasures to prolong. + If he obtained his wishes from the fair, + The host about it scarcely seemed to care. + + THE sixth adventure of our charming belle, + Some writers one way, some another tell; + Whence many think that favour I have shown, + And for her, one gallant the less would own. + Mere scandal this; from truth I would nor swerve, + To please the fair: more credence I deserve; + Her husband only eight precursors had; + The fact was such;--I none suppress nor add. + + THE host returned and found his friend content; + To pardon him Alaciel gave consent; + And 'tween them things would equally divide + Of royal bosoms clemency's the pride. + + WHILE thus the princess passed from hand to hand + She oft amused her fancy 'mong a band + Of charming belles that on her would attend, + And one of these she made an humble friend. + The fav'rite in the house a lover had, + A smart, engaging, handsome, clever lad, + Well born, but much to violence inclined + A wooer that could scarcely be confined + To gentle means, but oft his suit began, + Where others end, who follow Cupid's plan. + + IT one day happened, that this forward spark; + The girl we speak of, met within the park, + And to a summer-house the fav'rite drew; + The course they took the princess chanced to view + As wand'ring near; but neither swain nor fair, + Suspicion had, that any one was there; + And this gallant most confidently thought, + The girl by force, might to his terms be brought! + His wretched temper, obstacle to love, + And ev'ry bliss bestowed by heav'n above, + Had oft his hopes of favours lately marred; + And fear, with those designs, had also jarred: + The girl, howe'er, would likely have been kind, + If opportunities had pleased her mind. + + THE lover, now convinced that he was feared; + In dark designs upon her persevered. + No sooner had she entered, than our man + Locked instantly the door, but vain his plan; + To open it the princess had a key; + The girl her fault perceived, and tried to flee; + He held her fast; the charmer loudly called; + The princess came--or vainly she had squalled. + + QUITE disappointed: overcome with ire, + He wholly lost respect amid desire, + And swore by all the gods, that, ere they went, + The one or other should to him consent; + Their hands he'd firmly tie to have his way; + For help (the place so far) 'twere vain to pray; + To take a lot was all that he'd allow; + Come, draw, he said; to Fortune you must bow; + No haggling I request--comply; be still: + Resolved I am with one to have my will. + + WHAT has the princess done? the girl replied, + That you, to make her suffer, thus decide + Yes, said the spark, if on her fall the lot, + Then you'll, at least for present, be forgot. + + NO, cried Alaciel, ne'er I'll have it said, + To sacrifice I saw a maiden led; + I'll suffer rather all that you expect, + If you will spare my friend as I direct. + 'Twas all in vain, the lots were drawn at last, + And on the princess was the burthen cast; + The other was permitted to retire, + And each was sworn that nothing should transpire: + But our gallant would sooner have been hung, + Than have upon such secrets held his tongue; + 'Tis clear, no longer silent he remained, + Than one to listen to his tale he'd gained. + + THIS change of favourites the princess grieved; + That Cupid trifled with her she perceived; + With much regret she saw her blooming charms, + The Helen of too many Paris' arms. + + ONE day it happened, as our beauteous belle + Was sleeping in a wood beside a dell, + By chance there passed, quite near, a wand'ring knight, + Like those the ladies followed with delight, + When they on palfreys rode in days of old, + And purity were always thought to hold. + + THIS knight, who copied those of famed romance, + Sir Roger, and the rest, in complisance, + No sooner saw the princess thus asleep, + Than instantly he wished a kiss to reap. + While thinking, whether from the neck or lip, + 'Twere best the tempting balm of bliss to sip, + He suddenly began to recollect + The laws of chivalry he should respect. + Although the thought retained, his fervent prayer + To Cupid was, that while the nymph was there, + Her fascinating charms he might enjoy; + Sure love's soft senses were ne'er designed to cloy! + + THE princess woke, and great surprise expressed; + Oh! charming fair, said he, be not distressed; + No savage of the woods nor giant 's nigh, + A wand'ring knight alone you now descry, + Delighted thus to meet a beauteous belle + Such charms divine, what angel can excel! + + THIS compliment was followed by his sighs, + And frank confession, both from tongue and eyes; + Our lover far in little time could go; + At length, he offered on her to bestow, + His hand and heart, and ev'ry thing beside, + Which custom sanctions when we seek a bride. + + WITH courtesy his offer was received, + And she related what her bosom grieved; + Detailed her hist'ry, but with care concealed + The six gallants, as wrong to be revealed. + The knight, in what he wished, indulgence got; + And, while the princess much deplored her lot, + The youth proposed Alaciel he should bring, + To Mamolin, or Alexandria's king. + + TO Mamolin? replied the princess fair, + No, no--I now indeed would fain repair, + (Could I my wishes have), to Zarus' court, + My native country:--thither give support. + + IF Cupid grant me life, rejoined the knight, + You there shall go, and I'll assist your flight; + To have redress, upon yourself depends, + As well as to requite the best of friends; + But should I perish in the bold design, + Submit you must, as wills the pow'rs divine. + I'll freely say, howe'er, that I regard, + My services enough to claim reward. + + ALACIEL readily to this agreed; + And favours fondly promised to concede; + T'ensure, indeed, his guarding her throughout, + They were to be conferred upon the route, + From time to time as onward they should go, + Not all at once, but daily some to flow. + + THINGS thus arranged, the fair behind the knight + Got up at once, and with him took to flight. + Our cavalier his servants sought to find, + That, when he crossed the wood, he left behind; + With these a nephew and his tutor rode; + The belle a palfrey took, as more the mode, + But, by her walked attentively the spark, + A tale he'd now relate; at times remark + The passing scene; then press his ardent flame; + And thus amused our royal, beauteous dame. + + THE treaty was most faithfully observed; + No calculation wrong; from naught they swerved. + At length they reached the sea; on ship-board got; + A quick and pleasing passage was their lot; + Delightfully serene, which joy increased; + To land they came (from perils thought released;) + At Joppa they debarked; two days remained: + And when refreshed, the proper road they gained; + Their escort was the lover's train alone; + On Asia's shores to plunder bands are prone; + By these were met our spark and lovely fair; + New dangers they, alas! were forced to share. + + TO cede, at first, their numbers forced the train; + But rallied by our knight they were again; + A desp'rate push he made; repulsed their force; + And by his valour stopt, at length, their course; + In which attack a mortal wound he got, + But was not left for dead upon the spot. + + BEFORE his death he full instructions gave, + To grant the belle whatever she might crave; + He ordered too, his nephew should convey, + Alaciel to her home without delay, + Bequeathing him whatever he possessed, + And--what the princess owed among the rest. + + AT length, from dread alarms and tears released, + The pair fulfilled the will of our deceased; + Discharged each favour was, of which the last + Was cancelled just as they the frontiers passed. + + THE nephew here his precious charge resigned, + For fear the king should be displeased to find, + His daughter guarded by a youthful swain:-- + The tutor only with her could remain. + + NO words of mine, no language can express + The monarch's joy his child to re-possess; + And, since the difficulty I perceive, + I'll imitate old Sol's retreat at eve, + Who falls with such rapidity of view, + He seems to plunge, dame Thetis to pursue. + + THE tutor liked his own details to hear, + And entertaining made his tales appear: + The num'rous perils that the fair had fled, + Who laughed aside, no doubt, at what he said. + + I SHOULD observe, the aged tutor cried, + The princess, while for liberty she sighed, + And quite alone remained (by Hispal left,) + That she might be of idleness bereft, + Resolved most fervently a god to serve, + From whom she scarcely since would ever swerve, + A god much worshipped 'mong the people there, + With num'rous temples which his honours share, + Denominated cabinets and bow'rs, + In which, from high respect to heav'nly pow'rs, + They represent the image of a bird, + A pleasing sight, though (what appears absurd) + 'Tis bare of plumage, save about the wings; + To this each youthful bosom incense brings, + While other gods, as I've been often told, + They scarcely notice, till they're growing old. + + DID you but know the virtuous steps she trod, + While thus devoted to the little god, + You'd thank a hundred times the pow'rs above, + That gave you such a child to bless your love. + But many other customs there abound:-- + The FAIR with perfect liberty are found: + Can go and come, whene'er the humour fits; + No eunuch (shadow like) that never quits; + But watches ev'ry movement:--always feared; + No men, but who've upon the chin a beard: + Your daughter from the first, their manners took: + So easy is her ev'ry act and look, + And truly to her honour I may say, + She's all-accommodating ev'ry way. + + THE king delighted seemed at what he heard; + But since her journey could not be deferred, + The princess, with a num'rous escort, tried + Again o'er seas t'wards Garba's shores to glide, + And, there arrived, was cordially received + By Mamolin, who loved, she soon believed, + To fond excess; and, all her suite to aid, + A handsome gift to ev'ry one was made. + + THE king with noble feasts the court regaled, + At which Alaciel pleasantly detailed + just what she liked, or true or false, 'twas clear; + The prince and courtiers were disposed to hear. + + AT night the queen retired to soft repose, + From whence next morn with honour she arose; + The king was found much pleasure to express; + Alaciel asked no more, you well may guess. + + BY this we learn, that husbands who aver + Their wond'rous penetration often err; + And while they fancy things so very plain, + They've been preceded by a fav'rite swain. + The safest rule 's to be upon your guard; + Fear ev'ry guile; yet hope the full reward. + + SWEET, charming FAIR, your characters revere; + The Mamolin's a bird not common here. + With us Love's fascination is so soon + Succeeded by the licensed honey moon, + There's scarcely opportunity to fool, + Though oft the husband proves an easy tool. + + YOUR friendships may be very chaste and pure, + But strangely Cupid's lessons will allure. + Defeat his wiles; resist his tempting charms + E'en from suspicion suffer not alarms. + Don't laugh at my advice; 'twere like the boys, + Who better might amuse themselves with toys. + + IF any one, howe'er unable seem, + To make resistance 'gainst the flame supreme + Turn ALL to jest; though right to keep the crown + Yet lost, 'there wrong, yourself to hang or drown. + + + + + + + THE MAGICK CUP + + + THE worst of ills, with jealousy compared, + Are trifling torments ev'ry where declared. + + IMAGINE, to yourself a silly fool, + To dark suspicion grown an easy tool; + No soft repose he finds, by night or day; + But rings his ear, he's wretched ev'ry way! + Continually he dreams his forehead sprouts; + The truth of reveries he never doubts. + But this I would not fully guaranty, + For he who dreams, 'tis said, asleep should be; + And those who've caught, from time to time, a peep, + Pretend to say--the jealous never sleep. + + A MAN who has suspicions soon will rouse; + But buz a fly around his precious spouse, + At once he fancies cuckoldom is brought, + And nothing can eradicate the thought; + In spite of reason he must have a place, + And numbered be, among the horned race; + A cuckold to himself he freely owns, + Though otherwise perhaps in flesh and bones. + + GOOD folks, of cuckoldom, pray what's the harm, + To give, from time to time, such dire alarm? + What injury 's received, and what 's the wrong, + At which so many sneer and loll their tongue? + While unacquainted with the fact, 'tis naught; + If known:--e'en then 'tis scarcely worth a thought. + You think, however, 'tis a serious grief; + Then try to doubt it, which may bring relief, + And don't resemble him who took a sup, + From out the celebrated magick cup. + Be warned by others' ills; the tale I'll tell; + Perhaps your irksomeness it may dispel. + + BUT first, by reason let me prove, I pray, + That evil such as this, and which you say, + Oft weighs you down with soul-corroding care; + Is only in the mind:--mere spright of air: + Your hat upon your head for instance place, + Less gently rather than's your usual case; + Pray, don't it presently at ease remain? + And from it do you aught amiss retain? + Not e'en a spot; there's nothing half so clear; + The features, too, they as before appear? + No difference assuredly you see? + Then how can cuckoldom an evil be? + Such my conclusion, spite of fools or brutes, + With whose ideas reason never suits. + + YES, yes, but honour has, you know, a claim: + Who e'er denied it?--never 'twas my aim. + But what of honour?--nothing else is heard; + At Rome a different conduct is preferred; + The cuckold there, who takes the thing to heart, + Is thought a fool, and acts a blockhead's part; + While he, who laughs, is always well received + And honest fellow through the town believed. + Were this misfortune viewed with proper eyes, + Such ills from cuckoldom would ne'er arise. + + THAT advantageous 'tis, we now will prove: + Folks laugh; your wife a pliant glove shall move; + But, if you've twenty favourites around, + A single syllable will ne'er resound. + Whene'er you speak, each word has double force; + At table, you've precedency of course, + And oft will get the very nicest parts; + Well pleased who serves you!--all the household smarts + No means neglect your favour to obtain; + You've full command; resistance would be vain. + Whence this conclusion must directly spring: + To be a cuckold is a useful thing. + + AT cards, should adverse fortune you pursue; + To take revenge is ever thought your due; + And your opponent often will revoke, + That you for better luck may have a cloak: + If you've a friend o'er head and ears in debt: + At once, to help him numbers you can get. + You fancy these your rind regales and cheers + She's better for it; more beautiful appears; + The Spartan king, in Helen found new charms, + When he'd recovered her from Paris' arms. + + YOUR wife the same; to make her, in your eye, + More beautiful 's the aim you may rely; + For, if unkind, she would a hag be thought, + Incapable soft love scenes to be taught. + These reasons make me to my thesis cling,-- + To be a cuckold is a useful thing. + + IF much too long this introduction seem, + The obvious cause is clearly in the theme, + And should not certainly be hurried o'er, + But now for something from th' historick store. + + A CERTAIN man, no matter for his name, + His country, rank, nor residence nor fame, + Through fear of accidents had firmly sworn, + The marriage chain should ne'er by him be worn; + No tie but friendship, from the sex he'd crave: + If wrong or right, the question we will wave. + Be this as 't will, since Hymen could not find + Our wight to bear the wedded knot inclined, + The god of love, to manage for him tried, + And what he wished, from time to time supplied; + A lively fair he got, who charms displayed, + And made him father to a little maid; + Then died, and left the spark dissolved in tears: + Not such as flow for wives, (as oft appears) + When mourning 's nothing more than change of dress: + His anguish spoke the soul in great distress. + + THE daughter grew in years, improved in mien, + And soon the woman in her air was seen; + Time rolls apace, and once she's ridded of her bib, + Then alters daily, and her tongue gets glib, + Each year still taller, till she's found at length; + A perfect belle in look, in age, in strength. + His forward child, the father justly feared, + Would cheat the priest of fees so much revered; + The lawyer too, and god of marriage-joys; + Sad fault, that future prospects oft destroys: + To trust her virtue was not quite so sure; + He chose a convent, to be more secure, + Where this young charmer learned to pray and sew; + No wicked books, unfit for girls to know, + Corruption's page the senses to beguile + Dan Cupid never writes in convent style: + + OF nothing would she talk but holy-writ; + On which she could herself so well acquit, + That oft the gravest teachers were confused; + To praise her beauty, scarcely was excused; + No flatt'ry pleasure gave, and she'd reply: + Good sister stay!--consider, we must die; + Each feature perishes:--'tis naught but clay; + And soon will worms upon our bodies prey: + Superior needle-work our fair could do; + The spindle turn at ease:--embroider too; + Minerva's skill, or Clotho's, could impart; + In tapestry she'd gained Arachne's art; + And other talents, too, the daughter showed; + Her sense, wealth, beauty, soon were spread abroad: + But most her wealth a marked attention drew; + The belle had been immured with prudent view, + To keep her safely till a spouse was found, + Who with sufficient riches should abound. + From convents, heiresses are often led + Directly to the altar to be wed. + + SOME time the father had the girl declared + His lawful child, who all his fondness shared. + As soon as she was free from convent walls, + Her taste at once was changed from books to balls; + Around Calista (such was named our fair) + A host of lovers showed attentive care; + Cits, courtiers, officers, the beau, the sage, + Adventurers of ev'ry rank and age. + + FROM these Calista presently made choice, + Of one for whom her father gave his voice; + A handsome lad, and thought good humoured too + Few otherwise appear when first they woo. + Her fortune ample was; the dow'r the same; + The belle an only child; the like her flame. + But better still, our couple's chief delight, + Was mutual love and pleasure to excite. + + TWO years in paradise thus passed the pair, + When bliss was changed to Hell's worst cank'ring care; + A fit of jealousy the husband grieved, + And, strange to tell, he all at once believed, + A lover with success his wife addressed, + When, but for him, the suit had ne'er been pressed; + For though the spark, the charming fair to gain, + Would ev'ry wily method try, 'twas plain, + Yet had the husband never terrors shown, + The lover, in despair, had quickly flown. + + WHAT should a husband do whose wife is sought, + With anxious fondness by another? Naught. + 'Tis this that leads me ever to advise, + To sleep at ease whichever side he lies. + In case she lends the spark a willing ear, + 'Twill not be better if you interfere: + She'll seek more opportunities you'll find; + But if to pay attention she's inclined, + You'll raise the inclination in her brain, + And then the danger will begin again. + + WHERE'ER suspicion dwells you may be sure, + To cuckoldom 'twill prove a place secure. + But Damon (such the husband's name), 'tis clear, + Thought otherwise, as we shall make appear. + He merits pity, and should be excused, + Since he, by bad advice, was much abused; + When had he trusted to himself to guide, + He'd acted wisely,'--hear and you'll decide. + + THE Enchantress Neria flourished in those days; + E'en Circe, she excelled in Satan's ways; + The storms she made obedient to her will, + And regulated with superior skill; + In chains the destinies she kept around; + The gentle zephyrs were her sages found; + The winds, her lacqueys, flew with rapid course; + Alert, but obstinate, with pow'rful force. + + WITH all her art th' enchantress could not find, + A charm to guard her 'gainst the urchin blind; + Though she'd the pow'r to stop the star of day, + She burned to gain a being formed of clay. + If merely a salute her wish had been, + She might have had it, easily was seen; + But bliss unbounded clearly was her view, + And this with anxious ardour she'd pursue. + Though charms she had, still Damon would remain, + To her who had his heart a faithful swain: + In vain she sought the genial soft caress: + To Neria naught but friendship he'd express. + Like Damon, husbands nowhere now are found, + And I'm not certain, such were e'er on ground. + I rather fancy, hist'ry is not here, + What we would wish, since truth it don't revere, + I nothing in the hippogriff perceive, + Or lance enchanted, but we may believe; + Yet this I must confess has raised surprise, + Howe'er, to pass it will perhaps suffice; + I've many passed the same,--in ancient days; + Men different were from us: had other ways; + Unlike the present manners, we'll suppose; + Or history would other facts disclose. + + THE am'rous Neria to obtain her end, + Made use of philters, and would e'en descend; + To ev'ry wily look and secret art, + That could to him she loved her flame impart. + Our swain his marriage vow to this opposed; + At which th' enchantress much surprise disclosed. + You doubtless fancy, she exclaimed one day, + That your fidelity must worth display; + But I should like to know if equal care, + Calista takes to act upon the square. + Suppose your wife had got a smart gallant, + Would you refuse as much a fair to grant? + And if Calista, careless of your fame, + Should carry to extremes a guilty flame, + Would you but half way go? I truly thought, + By sturdy hymen thus you'd not be caught. + Domestick joys should be to cits confined; + For none but such were scenes like those designed. + + BUT as to you:--decline Love's choice pursuit! + No anxious wish to taste forbidden fruit? + Though such you banish from your thoughts I see, + A friend thereto I fain would have you be. + Come make the trial: you'll Calista find, + Quite new again when to her arms resigned. + But let me tell you, though your wife be chaste, + Erastus to your mansion oft is traced. + + AND do you think, cried Damon with an air, + Erastus visits as a lover there? + Too much he seems, my friend, to act a part, + That proves the villain both in head and heart. + + SAID Neria, mortified at this reply, + Though he's a friend on whom you may rely, + Calista beauty has; much worth the man, + With smart address to execute his plan; + And when we meet accomplishments so rare; + Few women but will tumble in the snare. + + THIS conversation was by Damon felt, + A wife, brisk, young, and formed 'mid joys to melt; + A man well versed in Cupid's wily way; + No courtier bolder of the present day; + Well made and handsome, with attractive mind; + Wo what might happen was the husband blind? + Whoever trusts implicitly to friends, + Too oft will find, on shadows he depends. + Pray where's the devotee, who could withstand, + The tempting glimpse of charms that all command; + Which first invite by halves: then bolder grow, + Till fascination spreads, and bosoms glow? + Our Damon fancied this already done, + Or, at the best, might be too soon begun: + On these foundations gloomy views arose, + Chimeras dire, destructive of repose. + + TH' enchantress presently a hint received, + That those suspicions much the husband grieved; + And better to succeed and make him fret, + She told him of a thing, 'mong witches met, + 'Twas metamorphose-water (such the name) + With this could Damon take Erastus' frame; + His gait, his look, his carriage, air and voice + Thus changed, he easily could mark her choice, + Each step observe:--enough, he asked no more, + Erastus' shape the husband quickly bore; + His easy manner, and appearance caught: + With captivating smiles his wife he sought. + And thus addressed the fair with ev'ry grace:-- + How blithe that look! enchanting is your face; + Your beauty's always great, I needs must say, + But never more delightful than to-day. + + CALISTA saw the flatt'ring lover's scheme; + And turned to ridicule the wily theme. + His manner Damon changed, from gay to grave: + Now sighs, then tears; but nothing could enslave; + The lady, virtue firmly would maintain; + At length, the husband, seeing all was vain, + Proposed a bribe, and offered such a sum, + Her anger dropt: the belle was overcome. + The price was very large, it might excuse, + Though she at first was prompted to refuse; + At last, howe'er her chastity gave way: + To gold's allurements few will offer nay! + The cash, resistance had so fully laid, + Surrender would at any time be made. + The precious ore has universal charms, + Enchains the will, or sets the world in arms! + + THOUGH elegant your form, and smart your dress, + Your air, your language, ev'ry warmth express + Yet, if a banker, or a financier, + With handsome presents happen to appear, + At once is blessed the wealthy paramour, + While you a year may languish at the door. + + THIS heart, inflexible, it seems, gave ground, + To money's pow'rful, all-subduing sound; + The rock now disappeared--and, in its stead, + A lamb was found, quite easy to be led, + Who, as a proof, resistance she would wave, + A kiss, by way of earnest freely gave. + No further would the husband push the dame, + Nor be himself a witness of his shame, + But straight resumed his form, and to his wife, + Cried, O Calista! once my soul and life + Calista, whom I fondly cherished long; + Calista, whose affection was so strong; + Is gold more dear than hearts in union twined? + To wash thy guilt, thy blood should be assigned. + But still I love thee, spite of evil thought; + My death will pay the ills thou'st on me brought. + + THE metamorphosis our dame surprised; + To give relief her tears but just sufficed; + She scarcely spoke; the husband, days remained, + Reflecting on the circumstance that pained. + Himself a cuckold could he ever make, + By mere design a liberty to take? + But, horned or not? the question seemed to be, + When Neria told him, if from doubts not free, + Drink from the cup:--with so much art 'tis made, + That, whose'er of cuckoldom 's afraid, + Let him but put it to his eager lips + If he's a cuckold, out the liquor slips; + He naught can swallow; and the whole is thrown + About his face or clothes, as oft 's been shown. + But should, from out his brow, no horns yet pop-- + He drinks the whole, nor spills a single drop. + + THE doubt to solve, our husband took a sup, + From this famed, formidably, magick cup; + Nor did he any of the liquor waste:-- + Well, I am safe, said he, my wife is chaste, + Though on myself it wholly could depend; + But from it what have I to apprehend? + Make room, good folks, who leafless branches wear; + If you desire those honours I should share. + Thus Damon spoke, and to his precious wife + A curious sermon preached, it seems, on life. + + IF cuckoldom, my friends, such torments give; + 'Tis better far 'mong savages to live! + + LEST worse should happen, Damon settled spies, + Who, o'er his lady watched with Argus' eyes. + She turned coquette; restraints the FAIR awake, + And only prompt more liberties to take. + The silly husband secrets tried to know, + And rather seemed to seek the wily foe, + Which fear has often rendered fatal round, + When otherwise the ill had ne'er been found. + + FOUR times an hour his lips to sip he placed; + And clearly, for a week was not disgraced. + Howe'er, no further went his ease of mind; + Oh, fatal science! fatally designed! + With fury Damon threw the cup away, + And, in his rage, himself inclined to slay. + + HIS wife he straight shut up within a tower, + Where, morn and night, he showed a husband's pow'r, + Reproach bestowed: while she bewailed her lot, + 'Twere better far, if he'd concealed the blot; + For now, from mouth to mouth, and ear to ear, + It echoed, and re-echoed far and near. + + MEANWHILE Calista led a wretched life; + No gold nor jewels Damon left his wife, + Which made the jailer faithful, since 'twere vain + To hope, unbribed, this Cerberus to gain. + + AT length, the wife a lucky moment sought, + When Damon seemed by soft caresses caught. + Said she, I've guilty been, I freely own; + But though my crime is great, I'm not alone; + Alas! how few escape from like mishap; + 'Mong Hymen's band so common is the trap; + And though at you the immaculate may smile, + What use to fret and all the sex revile? + + WELL I'll console myself, and pardon you, + Cried Damon, when sufficient I can view, + Of ornamented foreheads, just like mine, + To form among themselves a royal line; + 'Tis only to employ the magick cup, + From which I learned your secrets by a sup. + + HIS plan to execute, the husband went, + And ev'ry passenger was thither sent, + Where Damon entertained, with sumptuous fare; + And, at the end, proposed the magick snare: + Said he, my wife played truant to my bed; + Wish you to know if your's be e'er misled? + 'Tis right how things go on at home to trace, + And if upon the cup your lips you place, + In case your wife be chaste, there'll naught go wrong; + But, if to Vulcan's troop you should belong, + And prove an antlered brother, you will spill + The liquor ev'ry way, in spite of skill. + + TO all the men, that Damon could collect, + The cup he offered, and they tried th' effect; + But few escaped, at which they laughed or cried, + As feelings led, or cuckoldom they spied, + Whose surly countenance the wags believed, + In many houses near, might be perceived. + + ALREADY Damon had sufficient found, + To form a regiment and march around; + At times they threatened governors to hang, + Unless they would surrender to their gang; + But few they wanted to complete the force, + And soon a royal army made of course. + From day to day their numbers would augment, + Without the beat of drum, to great extent; + Their rank was always fixed by length of horn: + Foot soldiers those, whose branches short were borne; + Dragoons, lieutenants, captains, some became, + And even colonels, those of greater fame. + The portion spilled by each from out the vase + Was taken for the length, and fixed the place. + A wight, who in an instant spilled the whole, + Was made a gen'ral: not commander sole, + For many followed of the same degree, + And 'twas determined they should equals be. + + THE rank and file now nearly found complete, + And full enough an enemy to beat, + Young Reynold, nephew of famed Charlemain, + By chance came by: the spark they tried to gain, + And, after treating him with sumptuous cheer, + At length the magick cup mas made appear; + But no way Reynold could be led to drink: + My wife, cried he, I truly faithful think, + And that's enough; the cup can nothing more; + Should I, who sleep with two eyes, sleep with four? + I feel at ease, thank heav'n, and have no dread, + Then why to seek new cares should I be led? + Perhaps, if I the cup should hold awry, + The liquor out might on a sudden fly; + I'm sometimes awkward, and in case the cup + Should fancy me another, who would sup, + The error, doubtless, might unpleasant be: + To any thing but this I will agree, + To give you pleasure, Damon, so adieu; + Then Reynold from the antlered corps withdrew. + + SAID Damon, gentlemen, 'tis pretty clear, + So wise as Reynold, none of us appear; + But let's console ourselves;--'tis very plain, + The same are others:--to repine were vain. + + AT length, such numbers on their rolls they bore; + Calista liberty obtained once more, + As promised formerly, and then her charms + Again were taken to her spouse's arms. + + LET Reynold's conduct, husbands, be your line; + Who Damon's follows surely will repine. + Perhaps the first should have been made the chief; + Though, doubtless, that is matter of belief. + No mortal can from danger feel secure; + To be exempt from spilling, who is sure? + Nor Roland, Reynold, nor famed Charlemain, + But what had acted wrong to risk the stain. + + + + + + + THE FALCON + + I RECOLLECT, that lately much I blamed, + The sort of lover, avaricious named; + And if in opposites we reason see, + The liberal in paradise should be. + The rule is just and, with the warmest zeal, + To prove the fact I to the CHURCH appeal. + + IN Florence once there dwelled a gentle youth, + Who loved a certain beauteous belle with truth; + O'er all his actions she had full controul;-- + To please he would have sold his very soul. + If she amusements wished, he'd lavish gold, + Convinced in love or war you should be bold; + The cash ne'er spare:--invincible its pow'rs, + O'erturning walls or doors where'er it show'rs. + The precious ore can every thing o'ercome; + 'Twill silence barking curs: make servants dumb; + And these can render eloquent at will:-- + Excel e'en Tully in persuasive skill; + In short he'd leave no quarter unsubdued, + Unless therein the fair he could include. + + SHE stood th' attack howe'er, and Frederick failed; + His force was vain whenever he assailed; + Without the least return his wealth he spent: + Lands, houses, manors of immense extent, + Were ev'ry now and then to auction brought; + To gratify his love was all he thought. + + THE rank of 'squire till lately he had claimed; + Now scarcely was he even mister named; + Of wealth by Cupid's stratagems bereft, + A single farm was all the man had left; + Friends very few, and such as God alone, + Could tell if friendship they might not disown; + The best were led their pity to express; + 'Twas all he got: it could not well be less; + To lend without security was wrong, + And former favours they'd forgotten long; + With all that Frederick could or say or do, + His liberal conduct soon was lost to view. + + WITH Clytia he no longer was received, + Than while he was a man of wealth believed; + Balls, concerts, op'ras, tournaments, and plays, + Expensive dresses, all engaging ways, + Were used to captivate this lady fair, + While scarcely one around but in despair, + Wife, widow, maid, his fond affection sought; + To gain him, ev'ry wily art was brought; + But all in vain:--by passion overpow'red, + The belle, whose conduct others would have soured, + To him appeared a goddess full of charms, + Superior e'en to Helen, in his arms; + From whence we may conclude, the beauteous dame + Was always deaf to Fred'rick's ardent flame. + + ENAMOURED of the belle, his lands he sold; + The family estates were turned to gold; + And many who the purchases had made, + With pelf accumulated by their trade, + Assumed the airs of men of noble birth:-- + Fair subjects oft for ridicule and mirth! + + RICH Clytia was, and her good spouse, 'tis said, + Had lands which far and wide around were spread; + No cash nor presents she would ever take, + Yet suffered Frederick splendid treats to make, + Without designing recompense to grant, + Or being more than merely complaisant. + + ALREADY, if my mem'ry do not fail, + I've said, the youth's estates were put to sale, + To pay for feasts the fair to entertain, + And what he'd left was only one domain, + A petty farm to which he now retired; + Ashamed to show where once so much admired, + And wretched too, a prey to lorn despair, + Unable to obtain by splendid care, + A beauty he'd pursued six years and more, + And should for ever fervently adore. + His want of merit was the cause he thought, + That she could never to his wish be brought, + While from him not a syllable was heard, + Against the lovely belle his soul preferred. + + 'MID poverty oft Fred'rick sighed and wept; + A toothless hag--his only servant kept; + His kitchen cold; (where commonly he dwelled;) + A pretty decent horse his stable held; + A falcon too; and round about the grange, + Our quondam 'squire repeatedly would range, + Where oft, to melancholy, he was led, + To sacrifice the game which near him fed; + By Clytia's cruelty the gun was seized, + And feathered victims black chagrin appeased. + + 'TWAS thus the lover whiled his hours away; + His heart-felt torments nothing could allay; + Blessed if with fortune love he'd also lost, + Which constantly his earthly comforts crossed; + But this lorn passion preyed upon his mind:-- + Where'er he rode, BLACK CARE would mount behind. + + DEATH took at length the husband of the fair; + An only son appointed was his heir, + A sickly child, whose life, 'twas pretty plain, + Could scarcely last till spring returned again, + Which made the husband, by his will, decree, + His wife the infant's successor should be, + In case the babe at early years should die, + Who soon grew worse and raised the widow's sigh. + + TOO much affection parents ne'er can show:-- + A mother's feelings none but mothers know. + + FAIR Clytia round her child with anxious care, + Watched day and night, and no expense would spare; + Inquired if this or that would please his taste; + What he desired should be procured with haste; + But nothing would he have that she proposed; + An ardent wish howe'er the boy disclosed, + For Fred'rick's Falcon, and most anxious grew:-- + Tear followed tear, and nothing else would do. + When once a child has got a whim in brain, + No peace, no rest, till he the boon obtain. + + WE should observe our belle, near Fred'rick's cot, + A handsome house and many lands had got; + 'Twas there the lovely babe had lately heard, + Most wondrous stories of the bird averred; + No partridge e'er escaped its rapid wing:-- + On every morn down numbers it would bring; + No money for it would its owner take; + Much grieved was Clytia such request to make. + The man, for her, of wealth had been bereft; + How ask the only treasure he had left? + And him if she were led to importune, + Could she expect that he'd accord the boon? + Alas! ungratefully she oft repaid, + His liberal treats, his concerts, serenade, + And haughtily behaved from first to last: + How be so bold, (reflecting on the past,) + To see the man that she so ill had used? + And ask a favour?--could she be excused? + But then her child!--perhaps his life 'twould save; + Naught would he take; the falcon she must crave. + + THAT her sweet babe might be induced to eat, + So meant the bird of Fred'rick to intreat; + Her boy was heard continually to cry, + Unless he had the falcon, he should die. + + THESE reasons strongly with the mother weighed; + Her visit to the 'squire was not delayed; + With fond affection for her darling heir, + One morn, alone she sought the lorn repair. + + TO Fred'rick's eye an angel she appeared; + But shame he felt, that she, his soul revered, + Should find him poor:--no servants to attend, + Nor means to give a dinner to a friend. + The poverty in which he now was viewed, + Distressed his mind and all his griefs renewed. + Why come? said he; what led you thus to trace, + An humble slave of your celestial face? + A villager, a wretched being here; + Too great the honour doubtless must appear; + 'Twas somewhere else you surely meant to go? + The lady in a moment answered no. + Cried he, I've neither cook nor kettle left; + Then how can I receive you, thus bereft? + But you have bread, said Clytia:--that will do;-- + The lover quickly to the poultry flew, + In search of eggs; some bacon too he found; + But nothing else, except the hawk renowned, + Which caught his eye, and instantly was seized, + Slain, plucked, and made a fricassee that pleased. + + MEANWHILE the house-keeper for linen sought; + Knives, forks, plates, spoons, cups, glass and chairs she + brought; + The fricassee was served, the dame partook, + And on the dish with pleasure seemed to look. + + THE dinner o'er, the widow then resolved, + To ask the boon which in her mind resolved. + She thus begun:--good sir, you'll think me mad, + To come and to your breast fresh trouble add; + I've much to ask, and you will feel surprise, + That one, for whom your love could ne'er suffice, + Should now request your celebrated bird; + Can I expect the grant?--the thought 's absurd + But pardon pray a mother's anxious fear; + 'Tis for my child:--his life to me is dear. + The falcon solely can the infant save; + Yet since to you I nothing ever gave, + For all your kindness oft on me bestowed; + Your fortune wasted:--e'en your nice abode, + Alas! disposed of, large supplies to raise, + To entertain and please in various ways: + I cannot hope this falcon to obtain; + For sure I am the expectation's vane; + No, rather perish child and mother too; + Than such uneasiness should you pursue: + Allow howe'er this parent, I beseech, + Who loves her offspring 'yond the pow'r of speech, + Or language to express, her only boy, + Sole hope, sole comfort, all her earthly joy, + True mother like, to seek her child's relief, + And in your breast deposit now her grief. + Affection's pow'r none better know than you,-- + How few to love were ever half so true! + From such a bosom I may pardon crave + Soft pity's ever with the good and brave! + + ALAS! the wretched lover straight replied, + The bird was all I could for you provide; + 'Twas served for dinner.--Dead?--exclaimed the dame, + While trembling terror overspread her frame. + No jest, said he, and from the soul I wish, + My heart, instead of that, had been the dish; + But doomed alas! am I by fate, 'tis clear, + To find no grace with her my soul holds dear: + I'd nothing left; and when I saw the bird, + To kill it instantly the thought occurred; + Those naught we grudge nor spare to entertain, + Who o'er our feeling bosoms sov'reign reign: + All I can do is speedily to get, + Another falcon: easily they're met; + And by to-morrow I'll the bird procure. + No, Fred'rick, she replied, I now conjure + You'll think no more about it; what you've done + Is all that fondness could have shown a son; + And whether fate has doomed the child to die, + Or with my prayers the pow'rs above comply; + For you my gratitude will never end-- + Pray let us hope to see you as a friend. + + THEN Clytia took her leave, and gave her hand; + A proof his love no more she would withstand. + He kissed and bathed her fingers with his tears; + The second day grim death confirmed their fears: + + THE mourning lasted long and mother's grief; + But days and months at length bestowed relief; + No wretchedness so great, we may depend, + But what, to time's all-conqu'ring sithe will bend: + + TWO famed physicians managed with such care; + That they recovered her from wild despair, + And tears gave place to cheerfulness and joy:-- + The one was TIME the other Venus' Boy. + Her hand fair Clytia on the youth bestowed, + As much from love as what to him she owed. + + LET not this instance howsoe'r mislead; + 'Twere wrong with hope our fond desires to feed, + And waste our substance thus:--not all the FAIR, + Possess of gratitude a decent share. + With this exception they appear divine; + In lovely WOMAN angel-charms combine; + The whole indeed I do not here include; + Alas; too many act the jilt and prude. + When kind, they're ev'ry blessing found below: + When otherwise a curse we often know. + + + + + + + THE LITTLE DOG + + + THE key, which opes the chest of hoarded gold. + Unlocks the heart that favours would withhold. + To this the god of love has oft recourse, + When arrows fail to reach the secret source, + And I'll maintain he's right, for, 'mong mankind, + Nice presents ev'ry where we pleasing find; + Kings, princes, potentates, receive the same, + And when a lady thinks she's not to blame, + To do what custom tolerates around; + When Venus' acts are only Themis' found, + I'll nothing 'gainst her say; more faults than one, + Besides the present, have their course begun. + + A MANTUAN judge espoused a beauteous fair: + Her name was Argia:--Anselm was her care, + An aged dotard, trembling with alarms, + While she was young, and blessed with seraph charms. + But, not content with such a pleasing prize, + His jealousy appeared without disguise, + Which greater admiration round her drew, + Who doubtless merited, in ev'ry view, + Attention from the first in rank or place + So elegant her form, so fine her face. + + 'TWOULD endless prove, and nothing would avail, + Each lover's pain minutely to detail: + Their arts and wiles; enough 'twill be no doubt, + To say the lady's heart was found so stout, + She let them sigh their precious hours away, + And scarcely seemed emotion to betray. + + WHILE at the judge's, Cupid was employed, + Some weighty things the Mantuan state annoyed, + Of such importance, that the rulers meant, + An embassy should to the Pope be sent. + As Anselm was a judge of high degree, + No one so well embassador could be. + + 'TWAS with reluctance he agreed to go, + And be at Rome their mighty Plenipo'; + The business would be long, and he must dwell + Six months or more abroad, he could not tell. + Though great the honour, he should leave his dove, + Which would be painful to connubial love. + Long embassies and journeys far from home + Oft cuckoldom around induce to roam. + + THE husband, full of fears about his wife; + Exclaimed--my ever--darling, precious life, + I must away; adieu, be faithful pray, + To one whose heart from you can never stray + But swear to me, my duck, (for, truth to tell, + I've reason to be jealous of my belle,) + Now swear these sparks, whose ardour I perceive, + Have sighed without success, and I'll believe. + But still your honour better to secure, + From slander's tongue, and virtue to ensure, + I'd have you to our country-house repair; + The city quit:--these sly gallants beware; + Their presents too, accurst invention found, + With danger fraught, and ever much renowned; + For always in the world, where lovers move, + These gifts the parent of assentment prove. + 'Gainst those declare at once; nor lend an ear + To flattery, their cunning sister-peer. + If they approach, shut straight both ears and eyes; + For nothing you shall want that wealth supplies; + My store you may command; the key behold, + Where I've deposited my notes and gold. + Receive my rents; expend whate'er you please; + I'll look for no accounts; live quite at ease; + I shall be satisfied with what you do, + If naught therein to raise a blush I view; + You've full permission to amuse your mind; + Your love, howe'er, for me alone's designed; + That, recollect, must be for my return, + For which our bosoms will with ardour burn. + + THE good man's bounty seemingly was sweet; + All pleasures, one excepted, she might greet; + But that, alas! by bosoms unpossessed, + No happiness arises from the rest: + His lady promised ev'ry thing required:-- + Deaf, blind, and cruel,--whosoe'er admired; + And not a present would her hand receive + At his return, he fully might believe, + She would be found the same as when he went, + Without gallant, or aught to discontent. + + HER husband gone, she presently retired + Where Anselm had so earnestly desired; + The lovers came, but they were soon dismissed, + And told, from visits they must all desist; + Their assiduities were irksome grown, + And she was weary of their lovesick tone. + Save one, they all were odious to the fair; + A handsome youth, with smart engaging air; + But whose attentions to the belle were vain; + In spite of arts, his aim he could not gain; + His name was Atis, known to love and arms, + Who grudged no pains, could he possess her charms. + Each wile he tried, and if he'd kept to sighs, + No doubt the source is one that never dries; + But often diff'rent with expense 'tis found; + His wealth was wasted rapidly around + He wretched grew; at length for debt he fled, + And sought a desert to conceal his head. + As on the road he moved, a clown he met, + Who with his stick an adder tried to get, + From out a thicket, where it hissing lay, + And hoped to drive the countryman away: + Our knight his object asked; the clown replied, + To slay the reptile anxiously I tried; + Wherever met, an adder I would kill: + The race should be extinct if I'd my will. + + WHY would'st thou, friend, said Atis, these destroy? + God meant that all should freely life enjoy. + The youthful knight for reptiles had, we find, + Less dread than what prevails with human kind; + He bore them in his arms:--they marked his birth; + From noble Cadmus sprung, who, when on earth, + At last, to serpent was in age transformed; + The adder's bush the clown no longer stormed; + No more the spotted reptile sought to stay, + But seized the time, and quickly crept away. + + AT length our lover to a wood retired; + To live concealed was what the youth desired; + Lorn silence reigned, except from birds that sang, + And dells that oft with sweetest echo rang. + There HAPPINESS and frightful MIS'RY lay, + Quite undistinguished: classed with beasts of prey; + That growling prowled in search of food around: + There Atis consolation never found. + LOVE thither followed, and, however viewed, + 'Twas vain to hope his passion to elude; + Retirement fed the tender, ardent flame, + And irksome ev'ry minute soon became. + Let us return, cried he, since such our fate: + 'Tis better, Atis, bear her frowns and hate, + Than of her beauteous features lose the view; + Ye nightingales and streams, ye woods adieu! + When far from her I neither see nor hear: + 'Tis she alone my senses still revere; + A slave I am, who fled her dire disdain; + Yet seek once more to wear the cruel chain. + + AS near some noble walls our knight arrived, + Which fairy-hands to raise had once contrived, + His eyes beheld, at peep of early morn, + When bright Aurora's beams the earth adorn, + A beauteous nymph in royal robes attired, + Of noble mien, and formed to be admired, + Who t'ward him drew, with pleasing, gracious air, + While he was wrapped in thought, a prey to care. + + SAID she, I'd have you, Atis, happy be; + 'Tis in my pow'r, and this I hope to see; + A fairy greet me, Manto is my name:-- + Your friend, and one you've served unknown:--the same + My fame you've heard, no doubt; from me proceeds + The Mantuan town, renowned for ancient deeds; + In days of yore I these foundations laid, + Which in duration, equal I have made, + To those of Memphis, where the Nile's proud course + Majestically flows from hidden source. + The cruel Parcae are to us unknown; + We wond'rous magick pow'rs have often shown; + But wretched, spite of this, appears our lot + Death never comes, though various ills we've got, + For we to human maladies are prone, + And suffer greatly oft, I freely own. + + ONCE, in each week to serpents we are changed; + Do you remember how you here arranged, + To save an adder from a clown's attack? + 'Twas I, the furious rustick wished to hack, + When you assisted me to get away; + For recompense, my friend, without delay, + I'll you procure the kindness of the fair, + Who makes you love and drives you to despair: + We'll go and see her:--be assured from me, + Before two days are passed, as I foresee, + You'll gain, by presents, Argia and the rest, + Who round her watch, and are the suitor's pest. + Grudge no expense, be gen'rous, and be bold, + Your handfuls scatter, lavish be of gold. + Assured you shall not want the precious ore; + For I command the whole of Plutus' store, + Preserved, to please me, in the shades below; + This charmer soon our magick pow'r shall know. + + THE better to approach the cruel belle, + And to your suit her prompt consent compel, + Myself transformed you'll presently perceive; + And, as a little dog, I'll much achieve, + Around and round I'll gambol o'er the lawn, + And ev'ry way attempt to please and fawn, + While you, a pilgrim, shall the bag-pipe play; + Come, bring me to the dame without delay. + + NO sooner said, the lover quickly changed, + Together with the fairy, as arranged; + A pilgrim he, like Orpheus, piped and sang; + While Manto, as a dog, skipt, jumped, and sprang. + + THEY thus proceeded to the beauteous dame; + Soon valets, maids, and others round them came; + The dog and pilgrim gave extreme delight + And all were quite diverted at the sight. + + THE lady heard the noise, and sent her maid, + To learn the reason why they romped and played: + She soon returned and told the lovely belle, + A spaniel danced, and even spoke so well, + it ev'ry thing could fully understand, + And showed obedience to the least command. + 'Twere better come herself and take a view: + The things were wond'rous that the dog could do. + + THE dame at any price the dog would buy, + In case the master should the boon deny. + To give the dog our pilgrim was desired; + But though he would not grant the thing required; + He whispered to the maid the price he'd take, + And some proposals was induced to make. + Said he, 'tis true, the creature 's not for sale; + Nor would I give it: prayers will ne'er prevail; + Whate'er I chance to want from day to day, + It furnishes without the least delay. + To have my wish, three words alone I use, + Its paw I squeeze, and whatsoe'er I choose, + Of gold, or jewels, fall upon the ground; + Search all the world, there's nothing like it found. + Your lady's rich, and money does not want; + Howe'er, my little dog to her I'll grant + If she'll a night permit me in her bed, + The treasure shall at once to her be led. + + THE maid at this proposal felt surprise; + Her mistress truly! less might well suffice; + A paltry knave! cried she, it makes me laugh; + What! take within her bed a pilgrim's staff! + Were such a circumstance abroad to get, + My lady would with ridicule be met; + The dog and master, probably, were last + Beneath a hedge, or on a dunghill cast; + A house like this they'll never see agen;-- + But then the master is the pride of men, + And that in love is ev'ry thing we find + Much wealth and beauty please all womankind! + + HIS features and his mien the knight had changed; + Each air and look for conquest were arranged. + The maid exclaimed: when such a lover sues, + How can a woman any thing refuse? + Besides the pilgrim has a dog, 'tis plain, + Not all the wealth of China could obtain. + Yet to possess my lady for a night, + Would to the master be supreme delight: + + I SHOULD have mentioned, that our cunning spark; + The dog would whisper (feigning some remark,) + On which ten ducats tumbled at his feet; + These Atis gave the maid, (O deed discreet;) + Then fell a diamond: this our wily wight + Took up, and smiling at the precious sight, + Said he, what now I hold I beg you'll bear, + To her you serve, so worthy of your care; + Present my compliments, and to her say, + I'm her devoted servant from to-day. + + THU female quickly to her mistress went; + Our charming little dog to represent: + The various pow'rs displayed, and wonders done; + Yet scarcely had she on the knight begun, + And mentioned what he wished her to unfold, + But Argia could her rage no longer hold; + A fellow! to presume, cried she, to speak + Of me with freedom!--I am not so weak, + To listen to such infamy, not I + A pilgrim too!--no, you may well rely, + E'en were he Atis, it would be the same, + To whom I now my cruel conduct blame: + Such things he never would to me propose; + Not e'en a monarch would the like disclose; + I'm 'bove temptation, presents would not do:-- + Not Plutus' stores, if offered to my view; + A paltry pilgrim to presume indeed, + To think that I would such a blackguard heed, + Ambassadress my rank! and to admit + A fellow, only for the gallows fit! + + THIS pilgrim, cried the maid, has got the means + Not only belles to get, but even queens; + Or beauteous goddesses he could obtain:-- + He's worth a thousand Atis's 'tis plain. + Bur, said the wife, my husband made me vow. + What? cried the maid, you'd not bedeck his brow! + A pretty promise truly:--can you think, + You less from this, than from the first, should shrink? + Who'll know the fact, or publish it around? + Consider well, how many might be found, + Who, were they marked with spot upon the nose, + When things had taken place that we suppose, + Would not their heads so very lofty place, + I'm well assured, but feel their own disgrace. + For such a thing, are we the worse a hair? + No, no, good lady, who presumes to swear, + He can discern the lips which have been pressed, + By those that never have the fact confessed, + Must be possessed of penetrating eyes, + Which pierce the sable veil of dark disguise. + This favour, whether you accord or not, + 'Twill not a whit be less nor more a blot. + For whom, I pray, LOVE'S treasures would you hoard? + For one, who never will a treat afford, + Or what is much the same, has not the pow'r? + All he may want you'll give him in an hour, + At his return; he's very weak and old, + And, doubtless, ev'ry way is icy cold! + + THE cunning girl such rhetorick displayed, + That all she said, her mistress, having weighed, + Began to doubt alone, and not deny + The spaniel's art, and pilgrim's piercing eye: + To her the master and his dog were led, + To satisfy her mind while still in bed; + For bright Aurora, from the wat'ry deep, + Not more reluctantly arose from sleep. + + OUR spark approached the dame with easy air, + Which seemed the man of fashion to declare; + His compliments were made with ev'ry grace, + That minds most difficult could wish to trace. + + THE fair was charmed, and with him quite content; + You do not look, said she, like one who meant + Saint James of Compostella soon to see, + Though, doubtless, oft to saints you bend the knee. + + TO entertain the smiling beauteous dame, + The dog, by various tricks, confirmed his flame, + To please the maid and mistress he'd in view: + Too much for these of course he could not do; + Though, for the husband, he would never move, + The little fav'rite sought again to prove + His wond'rous worth, and scattered o'er the ground, + With sudden shake, among the servants round, + Nice pearls, which they on strings arranged with care; + And these the pilgrim offered to the fair: + Gallantly fastened them around her arms, + Admired their whiteness and extolled her charms: + So well he managed, 'twas at length agreed, + In what his heart desired he should succeed; + The dog was bought: the belle bestowed a kiss, + As earnest of the promised future bliss. + + THE night arrived, when Atis fondly pressed, + Within his arms, the lady thus caressed; + Himself he suddenly became again, + On which she scarcely could her joy contain:-- + Th' ambassador she more respect should show, + Than favours on a pilgrim to bestow. + + THE fair and spark so much admired the night; + That others followed equal in delight; + Each felt the same, for where's the perfect shade; + That can conceal when joys like these pervade? + Expression strongly marks the youthful face, + And all that are not blind the truth can trace. + Some months had passed, when Anselm was dismissed; + Of gifts and pardons, long appeared his list; + A load of honours from the Pope he got:-- + The CHURCH will these most lib'rally allot. + + FROM his vicegerent quickly he received + A good account, and friends his fears relieved; + The servants never dropt a single word + Of what had passed, but all to please concurred. + + THE judge, both maid and servants, questioned much; + But not a hint he got, their care was such. + Yet, as it often happens 'mong the FAIR, + The devil entered on a sudden there; + Such quarrels 'tween the maid and mistress rose, + The former vowed she would the tale disclose. + Revenge induced her ev'ry thing to tell, + Though she were implicated with the belle. + + SO great the husband's rage, no words can speak: + His fury somewhere he of course would wreak; + But, since to paint it clearly would be vain-- + You'll by the sequel judge his poignant pain. + + A SERVANT Anselm ordered to convey + His wife a note, who was, without delay, + To come to town her honoured spouse to see; + Extremely ill (for such he feigned to be.) + As yet the lady in the country stayed; + Her husband to and fro' his visits paid. + + SAID he, remember, when upon the road, + Conducting Argia from her lone abode, + You must contrive her men to get away, + And with her none but you presume to stay.-- + A jade! she horns has planted on my brow: + Her death shall be the consequence I vow. + + WITH force a poinard in her bosom thrust; + Watch well th' occasion:--die, I say, she must, + The deed performed, escape; here's for you aid; + The money take:--pursuit you can evade; + As I request, proceed; then trust to me:-- + You naught shall want wherever you may be. + + TO seek fair Argia instantly he went; + She, by her dog, was warned of his intent. + How these can warn? if asked, I shall reply, + They grumble, bark, complain, or fawn, or sigh; + Pull petticoat or gown, and snarl at all, + Who happen in their way just then to fall; + But few so dull as not to comprehend; + Howe'er, this fav'rite whispered to his friend, + The dangers that awaited her around; + But go, said he, protection you have found; + Confide in me:--I'll ev'ry ill prevent, + For which the rascal hither has been sent. + As on they moved, a wood was in the way, + Where robbers often waited for their prey; + The villain whom the husband had employed, + Sent forward those whose company annoyed, + And would prevent his execrable plan; + The last of horrid crimes.--disgrace to man! + No sooner had the wretch his orders told, + But Argia vanished--none could her behold; + The beauteous belle was quickly lost to view: + A cloud, the fairy Manto o'er her threw. + + THIS circumstance astonished much the wretch, + Who ran to give our doating spouse a sketch + Of what had passed so strange upon the way; + Old Anselm thither went without delay, + When, marvellous to think! with great surprise, + He saw a palace of extensive size, + Erected where, an hour or two before, + A hovel was not seen, nor e'en a door. + + THE husband stood aghast!--admired the place, + Not built for man, e'en gods 'twould not disgrace. + The rooms were gilt; the decorations fine; + The gardens and the pleasure-grounds divine; + Such rich magnificence was never seen; + Superb the whole, a charming blessed demesne. + The entrance ev'ry way was open found; + But not a person could be viewed around, + Except a negro, hideous to behold, + Who much resembled AEsop, famed of old. + + OUR judge the negro for a porter took, + Who was the house to clean and overlook; + And taking him for such, the black addressed, + With full belief the title was the best, + And that he greatly honoured him, 'twas plain + (Of ev'ry colour men are proud and vain:) + Said he, my friend, what god this palace owns? + Too much it seems for those of earthly thrones; + No king, of consequence enough could be; + The palace, cried the black, belongs to me. + + THE judge was instantly upon his knees, + The negro's pardon asked, and sought to please; + I trust, said he, my lord, you'll overlook + The fault I made: my ignorance mistook. + The universe has not so nice a spot; + The world so beautiful a palace got! + + DOST wish me, said the black, the house to give, + For thee and thine therein at ease to live? + On one condition thou shalt have the place + For thee I seriously intend the grace, + If thou 'lt on me a day or two attend, + As page of honour:--dost thou comprehend? + The custom know'st thou--better I'll expound; + A cup-bearer with Jupiter is found, + Thou'st heard no doubt. + + ANSELM + + What, Ganymede? + + NEGRO + + The same; + And I'm that Jupiter of mighty fame; + The chief supreme who rules above the skies; + Be thou the lad with fascinating eyes, + Though not so handsome, nor in truth so young. + + ANSELM + + You jest, my lord; to youth I don't belong; + 'Tis very clear;--my judge's dress--my age! + + NEGRO + + I jest? thou dream'st. + + ANSELM + + My lord? + + NEGRO + + You won't engage? + Just as you will:--'tis all the same you'll find. + + ANSELM + + My lord! . . . The learned judge himself resigned, + The black's mysterious wishes to obey;-- + Alas! curst presents, how they always weigh! + + A PAGE the magistrate was quickly seen, + In dress, in look, in age, in air, in mien; + His hat became a cap; his beard alone + Remained unchanged; the rest had wholly flown. + + THUS metamorphosed to a pretty boy, + The judge proceeded in the black's employ. + Within a corner hidden, Argia lay, + And heard what Anselm had been led to say. + The Moor howe'er was Manto, most renowned, + Transformed, as oft the fairy we have found; + She built the charming palace by her art,-- + Now youthful features would to age impart. + + AT length, as Anselm through a passage came, + He suddenly beheld his beauteous dame. + What! learned Anselm do I see, said she, + In this disguise?--It surely cannot be; + My eyes deceive me:--Anselm, grave and wise; + Give such a lesson? I am all surprise. + + 'TIS doubtless he: oh, oh! our bald-pate sire; + Ambassador and judge, we must admire, + To see your honour thus in masquerade:-- + At your age, truly, suffer to be made + A--modesty denies my tongue its powr's + What!--you condemn to death for freaks like ours? + You, whom I've found *** you understand--for shame + Your crimes are such as all must blush to name. + Though I may have a negro for gallant, + And erred when Atis for me seemed to pant, + His merit and the black's superior rank, + Must lessen, if not quite excuse my prank. + Howe'er, old boy, you presently shall see, + If any belle solicited should be, + To grant indulgencies, with presents sweet, + She will not straight capitulation beat; + At least, if they be such as I have viewed:-- + Moor, change to dog; immediately ensued + The metamorphose that the fair required, + The black'moor was again a dog admired. + Dance, fav'rite; instantly he skipped and played; + And to the judge his pretty paw conveyed. + Spaniel, scatter gold; presently there fell + Large sums of money, as the sound could tell. + Such strong temptation who can e'er evade? + The dog a present to your wife was made. + Then show me, if you can, upon the earth, + A queen, a princess, of the highest birth, + Who would not virtue presently concede, + If such excuses for it she could plead; + Particularly if the giver proved + A handsome lad that elegantly moved. + + I, TRULY, for the spaniel was exchanged; + What you'd too much of, freely I arranged, + To grant away, this jewel to obtain + My value 's nothing great, you think, 'tis plain; + And, surely, you'd have thought me very wrong, + When such a prize I met, to haggle long. + 'Twas he this palace raised; but I have done; + Remember, since you've yet a course to run, + Take care again how you command my death; + In spite of your designs I draw my breath. + Though none but Atis with me had success, + I now desire, he may Lucretia bless, + And wish her to surrender up her charms, + (Just like myself) to his extended arms. + If you approve, our peace at once is made: + If not--while I've this dog I'm not afraid, + But you defy: I dread not swords nor bowl; + The little dog can warn me of the whole; + The jealous he confounds; be that no more; + Such folly hence determine to give o'er. + If you, to put restraints on women choose, + You'll sooner far their fond affections lose. + + THE whole our judge conceded;--could he less? + The secret of his recent change of dress + Was promised to be kept: and that unknown, + E'en cuckoldom again might there have flown. + + OUR couple mutual compensation made, + Then bade adieu to hill, and dale, and glade. + + SOME critick asks the handsome palace' fate; + I answer:--that, my friend, I shan't relate; + It disappeared, no matter how nor when. + Why put such questions?--strict is not my pen. + The little dog, pray what of that became? + To serve the lover was his constant aim. + + AND how was that?--You're troublesome my friend: + The dog perhaps would more assistance lend; + On new intrigues his master might be bent; + With single conquest who was e'er content? + + THE fav'rite spaniel oft was missing found; + But when the little rogue had gone his round, + He'd then return, as if from work relieved, + To her who first his services received. + His fondness into fervent friendship grew; + As such gay Atis visited anew; + He often came, but Argia was sincere, + And firmly to her vow would now adhere: + Old Anselm too, had sworn, by heav'n above; + No more to be suspicious of his love; + And, if he ever page became again, + To suffer punishment's severest pain. + + + + + + + THE EEL PIE + + + HOWEVER exquisite we BEAUTY find, + It satiates sense, and palls upon the mind: + Brown bread as well as white must be for me; + My motto ever is--VARIETY. + + THAT brisk brunette, with languid, sleepy eye, + Delights my fancy; Can you tell me why? + The reason 's plain enough:--she 's something new. + The other mistress, long within my view, + Though lily fair, with seraph features blessed, + No more emotion raises in my breast; + Her heart assents, while mine reluctant proves; + Whence this diversity that in us moves? + From hence it rises, to be plain and free, + My motto ever is--VARIETY. + + THE same in other words, I've often said; + 'Tis right, at times, disguise with care to spread. + The maxim's good, and with it I agree: + My motto ever is--VARIETY. + + A CERTAIN spouse the same devise had got, + Whose wife by all was thought a handsome lot. + His love, howe'er, was over very soon; + It lasted only through the honeymoon; + Possession had his passion quite destroyed; + In Hymen's bands too oft the lover 's cloyed. + + ONE, 'mong his valets, had a pretty wife; + The master was himself quite full of life, + And soon the charmer to his wishes drew, + With which the husband discontented grew, + And having caught them in the very fact, + He rang his mate the changes for the act; + Sad names he called her, howsoever just, + A silly blockhead! thus to raise a dust, + For what, in ev'ry town 's so common found; + May we worse fortune never meet around! + + HE made the paramour a grave harangue + Don't others give, said he, the poignant pang; + But ev'ry one allow to keep his own, + As God and reason oft to man have shown, + And recommended fully to observe; + You from it surely have not cause to swerve; + You cannot plead that you for beauty pine + You've one at home who far surpasses mine; + No longer give yourself such trouble, pray: + You, to my help-mate, too much honour pay; + Such marked attentions she can ne'er require + Let each of us, alone his own admire. + To others' WELLs you never ought to go, + While your's with sweets is found to overflow; + I willingly appeal to connoisseurs; + If heav'n had blessed me with such bliss as your's, + That when I please, your lady I could take, + I would not for a queen such charms forsake. + But since we can't prevent what now is known, + I wish, good sir, contented with your own, + (And 'tis, I hope, without offence I speak,) + You'll favours from my wife no longer seek. + + THE master, neither no nor yes replied, + But orders gave, his man they should provide; + For dinner ev'ry day, what pleased his taste, + A pie of eels, which near him should be placed. + + HIS appetite at first was wond'rous great; + Again, the second time, as much he ate; + But when the third appeared, he felt disgust, + And not another morsel down could thrust. + The valet fain would try a diff'rent dish; + 'Twas not allowed;--you've got, said they, your wish; + 'Tis pie alone; you like it best you know, + And no objection you must dare to show. + + I'M surfeited, cried he, 'tis far too much: + Pie ev'ry day! and nothing else to touch! + Not e'en a roasted eel, or stewed, or fried! + Dry bread I'd rather you'd for me provide. + Of your's allow me some at any rate, + Pies, (devil take them!) thoroughly I hate; + They'll follow me to Paradise I fear, + Or further yet;--Heav'n keep me from such cheer! + + THEIR noisy mirth the master thither drew, + Who much desired the frolick to pursue; + My friend, said he, I greatly feel surprise, + That you so soon are weary grown of pies; + Have I not heard you frequently declare, + Eel-pie 's of all, the most delicious fare? + Quite fickle, certainly, must be your taste; + Can any thing in me so strange be traced? + When I exchange a food which you admire; + You blame and say, I never ought to tire; + You do the very same; in truth, my friend, + No mark of folly 'tis, you may depend, + In lord or squire, or citizen or clown, + To change the bread that's white for bit of brown: + With more experience, you'll with me agree,-- + My motto ever is--VARIETY. + + WHEN thus the master had himself expressed, + The valet presently was less distressed; + Some arguments, howe'er, at first he used; + For, after all--are fully we excused, + When we our pleasure solely have in view; + Without regarding what's to others due? + I relish change; well, take it; but 'tis best, + To gain the belles with love of gold possessed; + And that appears to me the proper plan; + In truth, our lover very soon began + To practise this advice;--his voice and way + Could angel-sweetness instantly convey. + + HIS words were always gilt; (impressive tongue!) + To gilded words will sure success belong. + In soft amours they're ev'ry thing 'tis plain + The maxim 's certain, and our aim will gain; + My meaning doubtless easily is seen; + A hundred times repeated this has been + Th' impression should be made so very deep, + That I thereon can never silence keep; + And this the constant burden of my song-- + To gilded words will sure success belong. + + THEY easily persuade the beauteous dame; + Her dog, her maid, duenna, all the same; + The husband sometimes too, and him we've shown + 'Twas necessary here to gain alone; + By golden eloquence his soul was lulled; + Although from ancient orators not culled: + Their books retained have nothing of the kind; + Our jealous spouse indulgent grew we find. + He followed e'en, 'tis said, the other's plan-- + And, thence his dishes to exchange began. + + THE master and his fav'rite's freaks around; + Continually the table-talk were found; + He always thought the newest face the best: + Where'er he could, each beauty he caressed; + The wife, the widow, daughter, servant-maid, + The nymph of field or town:--with all he played; + And, while he breathed, the same would always be; + His motto ever was--VARIETY. + + + + + + + THE MAGNIFICENT + + SOME wit, handsome form and gen'rous mind; + A triple engine prove in love we find; + By these the strongest fortresses are gained + E'en rocks 'gainst such can never be sustained. + If you've some talents, with a pleasing face, + Your purse-strings open free, and you've the place. + At times, no doubt, without these things, success + Attends the gay gallant, we must confess; + But then, good sense should o'er his actions rule; + At all events, he must not be a fool. + The stingy, women ever will detest; + Words puppies want;--the lib'ral are the best. + + A Florentine, MAGNIFICENT by name, + Was what we've just described, in fact and fame; + The title was bestowed upon the knight, + For noble deeds performed by him in fight. + The honour ev'ry way he well deserved; + His upright conduct (whence he never swerved,) + Expensive equipage, and presents made, + Proclaimed him all around what we've pourtrayed. + + WITH handsome person and a pleasing mien, + Gallant, a polished air, and soul serene; + A certain fair of noble birth he sought, + Whose conquest, doubtless, brilliant would be thought; + Which in our lover doubly raised desire; + Renown and pleasure lent his bosom fire. + + THE jealous husband of the beauteous fair + Was Aldobrandin, whose suspicious care + Resembled more, what frequently is shown + For fav'rites mistresses, than wives alone. + He watched her every step with all his eyes; + A hundred thousand scarcely would suffice; + Indeed, quite useless Cupid these can make; + And Argus oft is subject to mistake: + Repeatedly they're duped, although our wight, + (Who fancied he in ev'ry thing was right,) + Himself so perfectly secure believed, + By gay gallants he ne'er could be deceived. + + TO suitors, howsoe'er, he was not blind; + To covet presents, greatly he inclined. + The lover yet had no occasion found, + To drop a word to charms so much renowned; + He thought his passion was not even seen; + And if it had, would things have better been? + What would have followed? what had been the end? + The reader needs no hint to comprehend. + + BUT to return to our forlorn gallant, + Whose bosom for the lady's 'gan to pant; + He, to his doctor, not a word had said; + Now here, now there, he tried to pop his head. + But neither door nor window could he find, + Where he might glimpse the object of his mind, + Or even hear her voice, or sound her name; + No fortress had he ever found the same; + Yet still to conquer he was quite resolved, + And oft the manner in his mind revolved. + This plan at length he thought would best succeed, + To execute it doubtless he had need + Of ev'ry wily art he could devise, + Surrounded as he was by eagle-eyes. + + I THINK the reader I've already told, + Our husband loved rich presents to behold; + Though none he made, yet all he would receive; + Whate'er was offered he would never leave. + + MAGNIFICENT a handsome horse had got, + It ambled well, or cantered, or would trot; + He greatly valued it, and for its pace, + 'Twas called the Pad; it stept with wond'rous grace: + By Aldobrandin it was highly praised; + Enough was this: the knight's fond hopes were raised; + Who offered to exchange, but t'other thought, + He in a barter might perhaps be caught. + 'Tis not, said he, that I the horse refuse; + But I, in trucking, never fail to lose. + + ON this, Magnificent, who saw his aim; + Replied, well, well, a better scheme we'll frame; + No changing we'll allow, but you'll permit, + That for the horse, I with your lady sit, + You present all the while, 'tis what I want; + I'm curious, I confess, and fort it pant. + Besides, your friends assuredly should know + What mind, what sentiments may from her flow. + Just fifteen minutes, I no more desire: + What! cried the other, you my wife require? + No, no, pray keep your horse, that won't be right. + But you'll be present, said the courteous knight. + And what of that? rejoined the wily spouse. + Why, cried Magnificent, then naught should rouse + Your fears or cares, for how can ill arise, + While watched by you, possessed of eagle-eyes? + + THE husband 'gan to turn it in his mind; + Thought he, if present, what can be designed? + The plan is such as dissipates my fears; + The offer advantageous too appears; + He's surely mad; I can't conceive his aim; + But, to secure myself and wife from shame; + Without his knowledge, I'll forbid the fair + Her lips to open, and for this prepare. + + COME, cried old Aldobrandin, I'll consent: + But, said the other, recollect 'tis meant, + So distant from us, all the while you stay, + That not a word you hear of what I say. + Agreed, rejoined the husband:--let's begin; + Away he flew, and brought the lady in. + + WHEN our gallant the charming belle perceived; + Elysium seemed around, he half believed. + The salutations o'er, they went and sat + Together in a corner, where their chat + Could not be heard, if they to talk inclined; + Our brisk gallant no long harangues designed, + But to the point advanced without delay; + Cried he, I've neither time nor place to say + What I could wish, and useless 'twere to seek + Expressions that but indirectly speak + The sentiments which animate the soul; + In terms direct, 'tis better state the whole. + + THUS circumstanced, fair lady, let me, pray; + To you at once, my adoration pay; + No words my admiration can express; + Your charms enslave my senses, I confess; + Can you suppose to answer would be wrong? + Too much good sense to you should now belong; + Had I the leisure, I'd in form disclose + The tender flame with which my bosom glows; + Each horrid torment; but by Fate denied + Blessed opportunities, let me not hide, + While moments offer, what pervades my heart, + And openly avow the burning smart + Few minutes I have got to travel o'er + What gen'rally requires six months or more. + Cold is that lover who will not pursue, + With ev'ry ardour, beauty, when in view. + But why this silence?--not a word you say! + You surely will not send me thus away! + That heav'n, an angel made you, none deny; + But still, to what is asked you should reply. + Your husband this contrived I plainly see, + Who fancies that replies were not to be, + Since in our bargain they were never named; + For shuffling conduct he was ever famed; + But I'll come round him, spite of all his art; + I can reply for you, and from the heart, + Since I can read your wishes in your eyes; + 'Tis thus to say--Good, sir, I would advise + That you regard me, not as marble cold; + Your various tournaments and actions bold, + Your serenades, and gen'ral conduct prove, + What tender sentiments your bosom move. + + YOUR fond affection constantly I praised, + And quickly felt a flame within me raised; + Yet what avails?--Oh, that I'll soon disclose; + Since we agree, allow me to propose, + Our mutual wishes we enjoy to-night; + And turn to ridicule that jealous Wight; + In short, reward him for his wily fear, + In watching us so very closely here. + Your garden will be quite the thing, I guess; + Go thither, pray, and never fear success; + Depend upon it, soon his country seat + Your spouse will visit:--then the hunks we'll cheat. + When plunged in sleep the grave duennas lie, + Arise, furred gown put on, and quickly fly; + With careful steps you'll to the garden haste; + I've got a ladder ready to be placed + Against the wall which joins your neighbour's square: + I've his permission thither to repair; + 'Tis better than the street:--fear naught my dove.-- + Ah! dear Magnificent, my fondest love; + As you desire, I'll readily proceed; + My heart is your's: we fully are agreed. + 'T's you who speaks, and, would that in my arms + Permission I had got to clasp your charms! + + MAGNIFICENT (for her he now replied,) + This flame you'll soon no reason have to hide + Through dread or fear of my old jealous fool, + Who wisely fancies he can woman rule. + + THE lover, feigning rare, the lady left, + And grumbling much, as if of hope bereft, + Addressed the husband thus: you're vastly kind; + As well with no-one converse I might find; + If horses you so easily procure, + You Fortune's frowns may very well endure. + Mine neighs, at least, but this fair image seems, + Mere pretty fish; I've satisfied my schemes; + What now of precious minutes may remain, + If any one desire my chance to gain, + A bargain he shall have:--most cheap the prize; + The husband laughed till tears bedewed his eyes. + Said he, these youths have always in their head + Some wond'rous fancies; follies round them spread. + Friend, from pursuit you much too soon retire: + With time we oft obtain our fond desire. + But I shall always keep a watchful eye; + Some knowing tricks methinks I yet can spy; + Howe'er, the horse must now be clearly mine, + And you'll the pad of course to me resign; + To you no more expense; and from to-day, + Be not displeased to see me on it, pray; + At ease I'll ride my country house to view;-- + That very night he to the mansion flew, + And our good folks immediately repaired, + Where gay Magnificent no pains had spared + To get access; what passed we won't detail; + Soft scenes, you'll doubtless guess, should there prevail. + + THE dame was lively, beautiful, and young; + The lover handsome, finely formed, and strong; + Alike enchanted with each other's charms, + Three meetings were contrived without alarms; + A fair so captivating to possess, + What mortal could be satisfied with less? + In golden dreams the sage duennas slept; + A female sentinel to watch was kept. + + A SUMMER-HOUSE was at the garden end, + Which to the pair much ease was found to lend; + Old Aldobrandin, when he built the same, + Ne'er fancied LOVE, would in it freak and game. + In cuckoldom he took his full degrees; + The horse he daily mounted at his ease, + And so delighted with his bargain seemed, + Three days, to prove it, requisite he deemed. + The country house received him ev'ry night; + At home he never dreamed but all was right. + + WHAT numbers round, whom Fortune favours less; + Have got a wife, but not a horse possess; + And, what yet still more wond'rous may appear, + Know ey'ry thing that passes with their dear. + + + + + + + THE EPHESIAN MATRON + + [NOTE: See Chapters 111 & 112 from The Satyricon + by Petronius Arbiter. DW] + + + IF there's a tale more common than the rest, + The one I mean to give is such confessed. + Why choose it then? you ask; at whose desire? + Hast not enough already tuned thy lyre? + What favour can thy MATRON now expect, + Since novelty thou clearly dost neglect? + Besides, thou'lt doubtless raise the critick's rage. + See if it looks more modern in my page. + + AT Ephesus, in former times, once shone, + A fair, whose charms would dignify a throne; + And, if to publick rumour credit 's due, + Celestial bliss her husband with her knew. + Naught else was talked of but her beauteous face, + And chastity that adds the highest grace; + From ev'ry quarter numbers flocked to see + This belle, regarded as from errors free. + The honour of her sex, and country too; + As such, old mothers held her up to view, + And wished their offspring's wives like her to act: + The sons desired the very same in fact; + From her, beyond a doubt, our PRUDES descend, + An ancient, celebrated house, depend. + + THE spouse adored his beauteous charming wife: + But soon, alas! he lost his precious life; + 'Twere useless on particulars to dwell: + His testament, indeed, provided well + For her he loved on earth to fond excess, + Which, 'yond a doubt, would have relieved distress; + Could gold a cherished husband's loss repair, + That filled her soul with black corroding care. + + A WIDOW, howsoever, oft appears + Distracted 'mid incessant floods of tears, + Who thoroughly her int'rest recollects, + And, spite of sobs, her property inspects. + + OUR Matron's cries were loudly heard around, + And feeling bosoms shuddered at the sound; + Though, we, on these occasions, truly know, + The plaint is always greater than the woe. + Some ostentation ever is with grief + Those who weep most the soonest gain relief. + + EACH friend endeavoured to console the fair; + Of sorrow, she'd already had her share: + 'Twas wrong herself so fully to resign;-- + Such pious preachings only more incline + The soul to anguish 'mid distractions dire: + Extremes in ev'ry thing will soonest tire. + + AT length, resolved to shun the glorious light, + Since her dear spouse no longer had the sight, + O'erwhelmed with grief she sought Death's dreary cell, + Her love to follow, and with him to dwell. + + A SLAVE, through pity, with the widow went; + To live or die with her she was content; + To die, howe'er, she never could intend: + No doubt she only thought about her friend, + The mistress whom she never wished to quit, + Since from her birth with her she used to sit. + They loved each other with a friendship true: + From early years it daily stronger grew; + Look through the universe you'll scarcely find, + So great a likeness, both in heart and mind. + The slave, more clever than the lady fair, + At first her mistress left to wild despair; + She then essayed to soothe each torment dire; + But reason 's fruitless, with a soul on fire. + No consolation would the belle receive, + For one no more, she constantly would grieve, + And sought to follow him to regions blessed:-- + The sword had shortest proved, if not the best. + + BUT still the lady anxious was to view, + Again those precious relicks, and pursue, + E'en in the tomb what yet her soul held dear + No aliment she took her mind to cheer; + The gate of famine was the one she chose, + By which to leave this nether world of woes. + + A DAY she passed; another day the same; + Her only sustenance, sobs, sighs, and flame + Still unappeased; she murmur'd 'gainst her fate; + But nothing could her direful woes abate. + + ANOTHER corpse a residence had got, + A trifling distance from the gloomy spot; + But very diff'rent, since, by way of tomb, + Enchained on gibbet was the latter's doom; + To frighten robbers was the form designed, + And show the punishment that rogues should find. + + A SOLDIER, as a sentinel was set, + To guard the gallows, who good payment met; + 'Twas ruled, howe'er, if robbers, parents, friends, + The body carried off, to make amends, + The sentinel at once should take its place + Severity too great for such a case; + But publick safety fully to maintain, + 'Twas right the sentry pardon should not gain. + + WHILE moving round his post, he saw at night + Shine, cross the tomb, a strange, unusual light, + Which thither drew him, curious to unfold + What, through the chinks, his eyesight could behold. + + OUR wight soon heard the lady's cries distressed, + On which he entered, and with ardour pressed, + The cause of such excessive grief to know, + And if 'twas in his pow'r to ease her woe. + + DISSOLVED in tears, and quite o'ercome with care; + She scarcely noticed that a man was there. + The corpse, howe'er, too plainly told her pain, + And fully seemed the myst'ry to explain. + We've sworn, exclaimed the slave, what's 'yond belief, + That here we'll die of famine and of grief. + + THOUGH eloquence was not the soldier's art, + He both convinced 'twas wrong with life to part: + The dame was great attention led to pay, + To what the son of Mars inclined to say, + Which seemed to soften her severe distress: + With time each poignant smart is rendered less. + + IF, said the soldier, you have made a vow, + That you, some food to take will not allow; + Yet, looking on while I my supper eat, + Will not prolong your lives, nor oaths defeat. + + HIS open manner much was formed to please; + The lady and her maid grew more at ease, + Which made the gen'rous sentinel conclude, + To bring his meat they would not fancy rude. + + THIS done, the slave no longer was inclined + To follow Death, as soon she changed her mind. + Said she, good madam, pleasing thoughts I've got; + Don't you believe that, if you live or not, + 'Tis to your husband ev'ry whit the same? + Had you gone first, would he have had the name + Of following to the grave as you design? + No, no, he'd to another course incline. + Long years of comfort we may clearly crave; + At twenty years it's surely wrong to brave + Both death and famine in a gloomy tomb + There's time enough to think of such a doom. + At best, too soon we die; do let us wait; + Here's nothing now at least to haste our fate. + In truth, I wish to see a good old age: + To bury charms like your's, would that be sage? + Of what advantage, I should wish to know, + To carry beauty to the shades below? + Those heavenly features make my bosom sigh, + To think from earthly praise they mean to fly. + + THIS flatt'ry roused the beauteous widowed fair; + The god of soft persuasion soon was there, + And from his quiver in a moment drew + Two arrows keen, which from his bow-string flew; + With one he pierced the soldier to the heart, + The lady slightly felt the other dart. + Her youth and beauty, spite of tears, appeared, + And men of taste such charms had long revered; + A mind of tender feeling might, through life. + Have loved her--even though she were a wife. + + THE sentinel was smitten with her charms; + Grief, pity, sighs, belong to Cupid's arms; + When bosoms heave and eyes are drowned in tears, + Then beauty oft with conq'ring grace appears. + + BEHOLD our widow list'ning to his praise, + Incipient fuel Cupid's flame to raise; + Behold her, even glad to view the wight, + Whose well tim'd flatt'ry filled her with delight + + AT length, to eat he on the fair prevailed, + And pleased her better than the dead bewailed. + So well he managed, that she changed her plan, + And, by degrees, to love him fondly 'gan. + The son of Mars a darling husband grew, + While yet her former dear was full in view. + + MEANTIME the corpse, that long in chains had swung, + By thieves was carried off from where it hung. + The noise was heard, and thither ran our wight; + But vain his efforts:--they were out of sight; + Confused, distressed, he sought again the tomb, + To tell his grief and settle, 'mid the gloom, + How best to act, and where his head to hide, + Since hang he must, the laws would now decide. + + THE slave replied, your gibbet-thief, you say, + Some lurking rogues this night have borne away: + The law, it seems, will ne'er accord you grace + The corpse that's here, let's set in t'other's place: + The passers-by the change will never tell + The lady gave consent, and all was well. + + O FICKLE females, ever you're the same; + A woman's a woman, both in mind and name + Some fair we find, and some unlike the dove, + But CONSTANCY'S the highest charm of love. + + YE prudes, for ever doubt of full success; + Don't boast at all: too much you may profess, + How good soever your design may be, + Not less is ours, you easily may see; + The MATRON'S tale is not beyond belief: + To entertain, our object is in chief. + + THE widow's only errors were her cries; + And mad design her life to sacrifice; + For, merely setting husband-dead in place + of one of this patibulary race, + Was surely not a fault so very grave: + Her lover's life was what she sought to save. + + A LIVING drum-boy, truly be it said, + Is better far, than any monarch dead. + + + + + + + BELPHEGOR + ADDRESSED TO MISS DE CHAMMELAY + + + YOUR name with ev'ry pleasure here I place, + The last effusions of my muse to grace. + O charming Phillis! may the same extend + Through time's dark night: our praise together blend; + To this we surely may pretend to aim + Your acting and my rhymes attention claim. + Long, long in mem'ry's page your fame shall live; + You, who such ecstacy so often give; + O'er minds, o'er hearts triumphantly you reign: + In Berenice, in Phaedra, and Chimene, + Your tears and plaintive accents all engage: + Beyond compare in proud Camilla's rage; + Your voice and manner auditors delight; + Who strong emotions can so well excite? + No fine eulogium from my pen expect: + With you each air and grace appear correct + My first of Phillis's you ought to be; + My sole affection had been placed on thee; + Long since, had I presumed the truth to tell; + But he who loves would fain be loved as well. + + NO hope of gaining such a charming fair, + Too soon, perhaps, I ceded to despair; + Your friend, was all I ventured to be thought, + Though in your net I more than half was caught. + Most willingly your lover I'd have been; + But time it is our story should be seen. + + ONE, day, old Satan, sov'reign dread of hell; + Reviewed his subjects, as our hist'ries tell; + The diff'rent ranks, confounded as they stood, + Kings, nobles, females, and plebeian blood, + Such grief expressed, and made such horrid cries, + As almost stunned, and filled him with surprise. + The monarch, as he passed, desired to know + The cause that sent each shade to realms below. + Some said--my HUSBAND; others WIFE replied; + The same was echoed loud from ev'ry side. + + His majesty on this was heard to say: + If truth these shadows to my ears convey, + With ease our glory we may now augment: + I'm fully bent to try th' experiment. + With this design we must some demon send, + Who wily art with prudence well can blend; + And, not content with watching Hymen's flock, + Must add his own experience to the stock. + + THE sable senate instantly approved + The proposition that the monarch moved; + Belphegor was to execute the work; + The proper talent in him seemed to lurk: + All ears and eyes, a prying knave in grain + In short, the very thing they wished to gain. + + THAT he might all expense and cost defray, + They gave him num'rous bills without delay, + And credit too, in ev'ry place of note, + With various things that might their plan promote. + He was, besides, the human lot to fill, + Of pleasure and of pain:--of good and ill; + In fact, whate'er for mortals was designed, + With his legation was to be combined. + He might by industry and wily art, + His own afflictions dissipate in part; + But die he could not, nor his country see, + Till he ten years complete on earth should be. + + BEHOLD him trav'lling o'er th' extensive space; + Between the realms of darkness and our race. + To pass it, scarcely he a moment took; + On Florence instantly he cast a look;-- + Delighted with the beauty of the spot, + He there resolved to fix his earthly lot, + Regarding it as proper for his wiles, + A city famed for wanton freaks and guiles. + Belphegor soon a noble mansion hired, + And furnished it with ev'ry thing desired; + As signor Roderick he designed to pass; + His equipage was large of ev'ry class; + Expense anticipating day by day, + What, in ten years, he had to throw away. + + HIS noble entertainments raised surprise; + Magnificence alone would not suffice; + Delightful pleasures he dispensed around, + And flattery abundantly was found, + An art in which a demon should excel: + No devil surely e'er was liked so well. + His heart was soon the object of the FAIR; + To please Belphegor was their constant care. + + WHO lib'rally with presents smoothes the road, + Will meet no obstacles to LOVE'S abode. + In ev'ry situation they are sweet, + I've often said, and now the same repeat: + The primum mobile of human kind, + Are gold and silver, through the world we find. + + OUR envoy kept two books, in which he wrote + The names of all the married pairs of note; + But that assigned to couples satisfied, + He scarcely for it could a name provide, + Which made the demon almost blush to see, + How few, alas! in wedlock's chains agree; + While presently the other, which contained + Th' unhappy--not a leaf in blank remained. + + No other choice Belphegor now had got, + Than--try himself the hymeneal knot. + In Florence he beheld a certain fair, + With charming face and smart engaging air; + Of noble birth, but puffed with empty pride; + Some marks of virtue, though not much beside. + For Roderick was asked this lofty dame; + The father said Honesta* (such her name) + Had many eligible offers found; + But, 'mong the num'rous band that hovered round, + Perhaps his daughter, Rod'rick's suit might take, + Though he should wish for time the choice to make. + This approbation met, and Rod'rick 'gan + To use his arts and execute his plan. + + THE entertainments, balls, and serenades, + Plays, concerts, presents, feasts, and masquerades, + Much lessened what the demon with him brought; + He nothing grudged:--whate'er was wished he bought. + The dame believed high honour she bestowed, + When she attention to his offer showed; + And, after prayers, entreaties, and the rest, + To be his wife she full assent expressed. + + BUT first a pettifogger to him came, + Of whom (aside) Belphegor made a game; + What! said the demon, is a lady gained + just like a house?--these scoundrels have obtained + Such pow'r and sway, without them nothing's done; + But hell will get them when their course is run. + He reasoned properly; when faith's no more, + True honesty is forced to leave the door; + When men with confidence no longer view + Their fellow-mortals,--happiness adieu! + The very means we use t' escape the snare, + Oft deeper plunge us in the gulph of care; + Avoid attorneys, if you comfort crave + Who knows a PETTIFOGGER, knows a KNAVE; + Their contracts, filled with IFS and FORS, appear + The gate through which STRIFE found admittance here. + In vain we hope again the earth 'twill leave + Still STRIFE remains, and we ourselves deceive: + In spite of solemn forms and laws we see, + That LOVE and HYMEN often disagree. + The heart alone can tranquilize the mind; + In mutual passion ev'ry bliss we find. + + HOW diff'rent things in other states appear! + With friends--'tis who can be the most sincere; + With lovers--all is sweetness, balm of life; + While all is IRKSOMENESS with man and wife. + We daily see from DUTY springs disgust, + And PLEASURE likes true LIBERTY to trust. + + ARE happy marriages for ever flown? + On full consideration I will own, + That when each other's follies couples bear; + They then deserve the name of HAPPY PAIR. + + ENOUGH of this:--no sooner had our wight + The belle possessed, and passed the month's delight; + But he perceived what marriage must be here, + With such a demon in our nether sphere. + For ever jars and discords rang around; + Of follies, ev'ry class our couple found; + Honesta often times such noise would make, + Her screams and cries the neighbours kept awake, + Who, running thither, by the wife were told:-- + Some paltry tradesman's daughter, coarse and bold, + He should have had:--not one of rank like me; + To treat me thus, what villain he must be! + A wife so virtuous, could he e'er deserve! + My scruples are too great, or I should swerve; + Indeed, without dispute, 'twould serve him right:-- + We are not sure she nothing did in spite; + These prudes can make us credit what they please: + Few ponder long when they can dupe with ease. + + THIS wife and husband, as our hist'ries say, + Each moment squabbled through the passing day; + Their disagreements often would arise + About a petticoat, cards, tables, pies, + Gowns, chairs, dice, summer-houses, in a word, + Things most ridiculous and quite absurd. + + WELL might this spouse regret his Hell profound, + When he considered what he'd met on ground. + To make our demon's wretchedness complete, + Honesta's relatives, from ev'ry street, + He seemed to marry, since he daily fed + The father, mother, sister (fit to wed,) + And little brother, whom he sent to school; + While MISS he portioned to a wealthy fool. + + His utter ruin, howsoe'er, arose + From his attorney-steward that he chose. + What's that? you ask--a wily sneaking knave, + Who, while his master spends, contrives to save; + Till, in the end, grown rich, the lands he buys, + Which his good lord is forced to sacrifice. + + IF, in the course of time, the master take + The place of steward, and his fortune make, + 'Twould only to their proper rank restore, + Those who become just what they were before. + + POOR Rod'rick now no other hope had got, + Than what the chance of traffick might allot; + Illusion vain, or doubtful at the best:-- + Though some grow rich, yet all are not so blessed. + 'Twas said our husband never would succeed; + And truly, such it seemed to be decreed. + His agents (similar to those we see + In modern days) were with his treasure free; + His ships were wrecked; his commerce came to naught; + Deceived by knaves, of whom he well had thought; + Obliged to borrow money, which to pay, + He was unable at th' appointed day, + He fled, and with a farmer shelter took, + Where he might hope the bailiffs would not look. + + HE told to Matthew, (such the farmer's name,) + His situation, character, and fame: + By duns assailed, and harassed by a wife, + Who proved the very torment of his life, + He knew no place of safety to obtain, + Like ent'ring other bodies, where 'twas plain, + He might escape the catchpole's prowling eye, + Honesta's wrath, and all her rage defy. + From these he promised he would thrice retire; + Whenever Matthew should the same desire: + Thrice, but no more, t'oblige this worthy man, + Who shelter gave when from the fiends he ran. + + THE AMBASSADOR commenced his form to change:-- + From human frame to frame he 'gan to range; + But what became his own fantastick state, + Our books are silent, nor the facts relate. + + AN only daughter was the first he seized, + Whose charms corporeal much our demon pleased; + But Matthew, for a handsome sum of gold, + Obliged him, at a word, to quit his hold. + This passed at Naples--next to Rome he came, + Where, with another fair, he did the same; + But still the farmer banished him again, + So well he could the devil's will restrain; + Another weighty purse to him was paid + Thrice Matthew drove him out from belle and maid. + + THE king of Naples had a daughter fair, + Admired, adored:--her parents' darling care; + In wedlock oft by many princes sought; + Within her form, the wily demon thought + He might be sheltered from Honesta's rage; + And none to drive him thence would dare engage. + + NAUGHT else was talked of, in or out of town, + But devils driven by the cunning clown; + Large sums were offered, if, by any art, + He'd make the demon from the fair depart. + + AFFLICTED much was Matthew, now to lose + The gold thus tendered, but he could not choose, + For since Belphegor had obliged him thrice, + He durst not hope the demon to entice; + Poor man was he, a sinner, who, by chance, + (He knew not how, it surely was romance,) + Had some few devils, truly, driven out: + Most worthy of contempt without a doubt. + But all in vain:--the man they took by force; + Proceed he must, or hanged he'd be of course. + + THE demon was before our farmer placed; + The sight was by the prince in person graced; + The wond'rous contest numbers ran to see, + And all the world spectators fain would be. + + IF vanquished by the devil:--he must swing; + If vanquisher:--'twould thousands to him bring: + The gallows was, no doubt, a horrid view; + Yet, at the purse, his glances often flew; + The evil spirit laughed within his sleeve, + To see the farmer tremble, fret, and grieve. + He pleaded that the wight he'd thrice obeyed; + The demon was by Matthew often prayed; + But all in vain,--the more he terror showed, + The more Belphegor ridicule bestowed. + + AT length the clown was driven to declare, + The fiend he was unable to ensnare; + Away they Matthew to the gallows led; + But as he went, it entered in his head, + And, in a sort of whisper he averred + (As was in fact the case) a drum he heard. + + THE demon, with surprise, to Matthew cried; + What noise is that? Honesta, he replied, + Who you demands, and every where pursues, + The spouse who treats her with such vile abuse. + + THESE words were thunder to Belphegor's ears, + Who instantly took flight, so great his fears; + To hell's abyss he fled without delay, + To tell adventures through the realms of day. + Sire, said the demon, it is clearly true, + Damnation does the marriage knot pursue. + Your highness often hither sees arrive, + Not squads, but regiments, who, when alive, + By Hymen were indissolubly tied:-- + In person I the fact have fully tried. + Th' institution, perhaps, most just could be: + Past ages far more happiness might see; + But ev'ry thing, with time, corruption shows; + No jewel in your crown more lustre throws. + + BELPHEGOR'S tale by Satan was believed; + Reward he got: the term, which-sorely grieved, + Was now reduced; indeed, what had he done, + That should prevent it?--If away he'd run, + Who would not do the same who weds a shrew? + Sure worse below the devil never knew! + A brawling woman's tongue, what saint can bear? + E'en Job, Honesta would have taught despair. + + WHAT is the inference? you ask:--I'll tell;-- + Live single, if you know you are well; + But if old Hymen o'er your senses reign, + Beware Honestas, or you'll rue the chain. + + * By this character La Fontaine is supposed to + have meant his own wife. + + + + + + + THE LITTLE BELL + + + HOW weak is man! how changeable his mind! + His promises are naught, too oft we find; + I vowed (I hope in tolerable verse,) + Again no idle story to rehearse. + And whence this promise?--Not two days ago; + I'm quite confounded; better I should know: + A rhymer hear then, who himself can boast, + Quite steady for--a minute at the most. + The pow'rs above could PRUDENCE ne'er design; + For those who fondly court the SISTERS NINE. + Some means to please they've got, you will confess; + But none with certainty the charm possess. + If, howsoever, I were doomed to find + Such lines as fully would content the mind: + Though I should fail in matter, still in art; + I might contrive some pleasure to impart. + + LET'S see what we are able to obtain:-- + A bachelor resided in Touraine. + A sprightly youth, who oft the maids beset, + And liked to prattle to the girls he met, + With sparkling eyes, white teeth, and easy air, + Plain russet petticoat and flowing hair, + Beside a rivulet, while Io round, + With little bell that gave a tinkling sound, + On herbs her palate gratified at will, + And gazed and played, and fondly took her fill. + + AMONG the rustic nymphs our spark perceived + A charming girl, for whom his bosom heaved; + Too young, however, to feel the poignant smart, + By Cupid oft inflicted on the heart. + I will not say thirteen's an age unfit + The contrary most fully I admit; + The LAW supposes (such its prudent fears) + Maturity at still more early years; + But this apparently refers to towns, + While LOVE was born for groves, and lawns, and downs. + + THE youth exerted ev'ry art to please; + But all in vain: he only seemed to teaze: + Whate'er he said, however nicely graced, + Ill-humour, inexperience, or distaste, + Induced the belle, unlearned in Cupid's book; + To treat his passion with a froward look. + + BELIEVING ev'ry artifice in love + Was tolerated by the pow'rs above, + One eve he turned a heifer from the rest; + Conducted by the girl his thoughts possessed; + The others left, not counted by the fair, + (Youth seldom shows the necessary care,) + With easy, loit'ring steps the cottage sought, + Where ev'ry night they usually were brought. + + HER mother, more experienced than the maid, + Observed, that from the cattle one had strayed; + The girl was scolded much, and sent to find + The heifer indiscreetly left behind. + Fair Isabella gave a vent to tears; + Invoked sweet echo to disperse her fears: + Solicited with fervent, piercing cry, + To tell her where lorn Io she might spy, + Whose little bell the spark deprived of sound; + When he withdrew her from the herd around. + + THE lover now the tinkling metal shook; + The path that t'wards it led the charmer took. + The well known note was pleasing to her ear; + Without suspecting treachery was near, + She followed to a wood, both deep and large, + In hopes at least she might regain her charge. + + GUESS her surprise, good reader, when she heard, + A lover's voice, who would not be deterred. + Said he, fair maid whene'er the heart's on fire, + 'Tis all permitted that can quench desire. + On this, with piercing cries she rent the air; + But no one came:--she sunk to dire despair. + + YE beauteous dames avoid the Sylvan shade; + Dread dangers solitary woods pervade. + + + + + + + THE GLUTTON + + + A STURGEON, once, a glutton famed was led + To have for supper--all, except the head. + With wond'rous glee he feasted on the fish; + And quickly swallowed down the royal dish. + O'ercharged, howe'er, his stomach soon gave way; + And doctors were required without delay. + + THE danger imminent, his friends desired + He'd settle ev'ry thing affairs required. + Said he, in that respect I'm quite prepared; + And, since my time so little is declared, + With diligence, I earnestly request, + The sturgeon's head you'll get me nicely dressed. + + + + + + + THE TWO FRIENDS + + + AXIOCHUS, a handsome youth of old, + And Alcibiades, (both gay and bold,) + So well agreed, they kept a beauteous belle, + With whom by turns they equally would dwell. + + IT happened, one of them so nicely played, + The fav'rite lass produced a little maid, + Which both extolled, and each his own believed, + Though doubtless one or t'other was deceived. + + BUT when to riper years the bantling grew, + And sought her mother's foot-steps to pursue, + Each friend desired to be her chosen swain, + And neither would a parent's name retain. + + SAID one, why brother, she's your very shade; + The features are the same-:-your looks pervade. + Oh no, the other cried, it cannot be + Her chin, mouth, nose, and eyes, with your's agree; + But that as 'twill, let me her favours win, + And for the pleasure I will risk the sin. + + + + + + + THE COUNTRY JUSTICE + + + TWO lawyers to their cause so well adhered, + A country justice quite confused appeared, + By them the facts were rendered so obscure + With which the truth remained he was not sure. + At length, completely tired, two straws he sought + Of diff'rent lengths, and to the parties brought. + These in his hand he held:--the plaintiff drew + (So fate decreed) the shortest of the two. + On this the other homeward took his way, + To boast how nicely he had gained the day. + + THE bench complained: the magistrate replied + Don't blame I pray--'tis nothing new I've tried; + Courts often judge at hazard in the law, + Without deciding by the longest straw. + + + + + + + ALICE SICK + + + SICK, Alice grown, and fearing dire event, + Some friend advised a servant should be sent + Her confessor to bring and ease her mind;-- + Yes, she replied, to see him I'm inclined; + Let father Andrew instantly be sought:-- + By him salvation usually I'm taught. + + A MESSENGER was told, without delay, + To take, with rapid steps, the convent way; + He rang the bell--a monk enquired his name, + And asked for what, or whom, the fellow came. + I father Andrew want, the wight replied, + Who's oft to Alice confessor and guide: + With Andrew, cried the other, would you speak? + If that's the case, he's far enough to seek; + Poor man! he's left us for the regions blessed, + And has in Paradise ten years confessed. + + + + + + + THE KISS RETURNED + + + AS WILLIAM walking with his wife was seen, + A man of rank admired her lovely mien. + Who gave you such a charming fair? he cried, + May I presume to kiss your beauteous bride? + With all my heart, replied the humble swain, + You're welcome, sir:--I beg you'll not refrain; + She's at your service: take the boon, I pray; + You'll not such offers meet with ev'ry day. + + THE gentleman proceeded as desired; + To get a kiss, alone he had aspired; + So fervently howe'er he pressed her lip, + That Petronella blushed at ev'ry sip. + + SEVEN days had scarcely run, when to his arms, + The other took a wife with seraph charms; + And William was allowed to have a kiss, + That filled his soul with soft ecstatick bliss. + Cried he, I wish, (and truly I am grieved) + That when the gentleman a kiss received, + From her I love, he'd gone to greater height, + And with my Petronella passed the night. + + + + + + + SISTER JANE + + + WHEN Sister Jane, who had produced a child, + In prayer and penance all her hours beguiled + Her sister-nuns around the lattice pressed; + On which the abbess thus her flock addressed: + Live like our sister Jane, and bid adieu + To worldly cares:--have better things in view. + + YES, they replied, we sage like her shall be, + When we with love have equally been free. + + + + + + + AN IMITATION OF ANACREON + + + PAINTER in Paphos and Cythera famed + Depict, I pray, the absent Iris' face. + Thou hast not seen the lovely nymph I've named; + The better for thy peace.--Then will I trace + For thy instruction her transcendent grace. + Begin with lily white and blushing rose, + Take then the Loves and Graces... But what good + Words, idle words? for Beauty's Goddess could + By Iris be replaced, nor one suppose + The secret fraud--their grace so equal shows. + Thou at Cythera couldst, at Paphos too, + Of the same Iris Venus form anew. + + + + + + + ANOTHER IMITATION OF ANACREON + + + PRONE, on my couch I calmly slept + Against my wont. A little child + Awoke me as he gently crept + And beat my door. A tempest wild + Was raging-dark and cold the night. + "Have pity on my naked plight," + He begged, "and ope thy door."--"Thy name?" + I asked admitting him.--"The same + "Anon I'll tell, but first must dry + "My weary limbs, then let me try + "My mois'ened bow."--Despite my fear + The hearth I lit, then drew me near + My guest, and chafed his fingers cold. + "Why fear?" I thought. "Let me be bold + "No Polyphemus he; what harm + "In such a child?--Then I'll be calm!" + The playful boy drew out a dart, + Shook his fair locks, and to my heart + His shaft he launch'd.--"Love is my name," + He thankless cried, "I hither came + "To tame thee. In thine ardent pain + "Of Cupid think and young Climene."-- + "Ah! now I know thee, little scamp, + "Ungrateful, cruel boy! Decamp!" + Cupid a saucy caper cut, + Skipped through the door, and as it shut, + "My bow," he taunting cried, "is sound, + "Thy heart, poor comrade, feels the wound." + + + + + + + THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE + TO HIS SECOND BOOK OF THESE TALES + + +These are the last works of this style that will come from the pen of +the Author, and consequently this is the last opportunity he has of +vindicating the boldness and privilege which he has assumed. We make no +mention of villainous rhymes, of lines that run into the next, of two +vowels without elision, nor, in general, of such kinds of carelessness +as he would not allow himself in another style of poetry, but which +are part and parcel, so to say, of this style. Too anxious a care +in avoiding such would force a tale-writer into a labyrinth of shifts, +into narratives as dull as they are grand, into straits that are utterly +useless, and would make him disregard the pleasure of the heart in order +to labour for the gratification of the ear. We must leave studied +narrative for lofty subjects, and not compose an epic poem of the +Adventures of Renaud d'Ast. Suppose the Author, who has put these tales +into rhyme, had brought to bear on them all the care and preciseness +required of him; not only would this care be observed, especially as it +is unnecessary, but it would also transgress the precept lain down by +Ouintilian, still the Author would not have attained the main object, +which is to interest the reader, to charm him, to rivet his attention +in spite of himself,--in a word, to please him. As everybody knows, the +secret of pleasing the reader is not always based on regulation, nor even +on symmetry; there is need of smartness and tastefulness, if we would +strike home. How many of those perfect types of beauty do we see which +never strike home, and of which nobody feels enamoured! We do not wish +to rob Modern Authors of the praise that is due to them. Nicely turned +lines, fine language, accuracy, elegance of rhyme are accomplishments in +a poet. However that may be, let us consider of our own epigrams wherein +all these qualities are combined, perhaps we shall find in them far less +point, nay, I would venture to add, far less charm than in those of +Marot or Saint-Gelais, although almost all the works of the latter poets +are full of the same faults as are attributed to us. We will be told +that these were not faults in their day, whereas they are very great +faults in ours. To this we answer by a similar kind of argument, by +saying, as we have already said, that these would undoubtedly be faults +in another style of poetry, but not in this. The late M. de Voiture is +a proof in point. We need only read the works in which he brings to life +again the character of Marot. For our Author does not lay claim to +praise for himself, nor to rounds of applause from the public for having +put a few tales into rhyme. Without doubt he has entered on quite a new +path, and has pursued it to the utmost of his power, choosing now one +road, now another, and always treading with surer step when he has +followed the manner of our old poets "quorum in hae re imitari +negligentiam exoptat potius quam istorum diligentiam." + +But while saying that we wished to waive this question, we have +unconsciously involved ourselves in its discussion. Perhaps this has not +been without advantage; for there is nothing that resembles faults more +than these licenses. Let us now consider the liberty which the Author +has assumed in cutting into the property of others as well as his own, +without making exception even to the best known stories, none of which +he scruples to tamper with. He curtails, enlarges, and alters incidents +and details, at times the main issue and the sequel; in short, the story +is no longer the same; it is, in point of fact, quite a new tale; its +original author would find it no small difficulty to recognise in it his +own work. "Non sic decet contaminari fabulas," Critics will say. Why +should they not? They twitted Terence in just the same way; but Terence +sneered at them, and claimed a right to treat the matter as he did. He +has mingled his own ideas with the subjects he drew from Menander, just +as Sophocles and Euripides mingled theirs with the subjects they drew +from former writers, sparing neither history nor romance, where "decorum" +and the rules of the Drama were at issue. Shall this privilege cease +with respect to fictitious stories? Must we in future have more +scrupulous or religious regard, if we may be allowed the expression, +for falsehood than the Ancients had for truth? What people call a good +tale never passes from hand to hand without receiving some fresh touch +of embellishment. How comes it then, we may be asked, that in many +passages the Author curtails instead of enlarging on the original? +On that point we are agreed: the Author does so in order to avoid +lengthiness and ambiguity,--two faults which are inadmissible in such +matters, especially the latter. For if lucidity is to be commended in +all literary works, we may say that it is especially necessary in +narratives, where one thing is, as a rule, the sequel and the result of +another; where the less important sometimes lays the basis of the more +important; so that, once the thread becomes broken, the reader cannot +gather it up again. Besides, as narratives in verse are very awkward, +the author must clog himself with details as little as possible; by means +of this you relieve not only yourself, but also the reader, for whom an +author should not fail to prepare pleasure unalloyed. Whenever the +Author has altered a few particulars and even a few catastrophes, he has +been forced to do so by the cause of that catastrophe and the urgency of +giving it a happy termination. He has fancied that in tales of this kind +everyone ought to be satisfied with the end: it pleases the reader at +any rate, if the author has not given the characters too distasteful +a rendering. But he must not go so far as that, if possible, nor make +the reader laugh and cry in the same tale. This medley shocks Horace +above all things; his wish is not that our works should border on the +grotesque, and that we should draw a picture half woman half fish. These +are the general motives the Author has had in view. We might still quote +special motives and vindicate each point; but we must needs leave +something to the capacity and leniency of our readers. They will be +satisfied, then, with the motives we have mentioned. We would have +stated them more clearly and have set more by them, had the general +compass of a Preface so allowed. + + + + + + + FRIAR PHILIP'S GEESE + + + IF these gay tales give pleasure to the FAIR, + The honour's great conferred, I'm well aware; + Yet, why suppose the sex my pages shun? + Enough, if they condemn where follies run; + Laugh in their sleeve at tricks they disapprove, + And, false or true, a muscle never move. + A playful jest can scarcely give offence: + Who knows too much, oft shows a want of sense. + From flatt'ry oft more dire effects arise, + Enflame the heart and take it by surprise; + Ye beauteous belles, beware each sighing swain, + Discard his vows:--my book with care retain; + Your safety then I'll guarantee at ease.-- + But why dismiss?--their wishes are to please: + And, truly, no necessity appears + For solitude:--consider well your years. + I HAVE, and feel convinced they do you wrong, + Who think no virtue can to such belong; + White crows and phoenixes do not abound; + But lucky lovers still are sometimes found; + And though, as these famed birds, not quite so rare, + The numbers are not great that favours share; + I own my works a diff'rent sense express, + But these are tales:--mere tales in easy dress. + + To beauty's wiles, in ev'ry class, I've bowed; + Fawned, flattered, sighed, e'en constancy have vowed + What gained? you ask--but little I admit; + Howe'er we aim, too oft we fail to hit. + My latter days I'll now devote with care, + To guard the sex from ev'ry latent snare. + Tales I'll detail, and these relate at ease: + Narrations clear and neat will always please; + Like me, to this attention criticks pay; + Then sleep, on either side, from night till day. + If awkward, vulgar phrase intervene, + Or rhymes imperfect o'er the page be seen, + Condemn at will; but stratagems and art, + Pass, shut your eyes, who'd heed the idle part? + Some mothers, husbands, may perhaps be led, + To pull my locks for stories white or red; + So matters stand: a fine affair, no doubt, + And what I've failed to do--my book makes out. + + THE FAIR my pages safely may pursue, + And this apology they'll not refuse. + What recompense can I presume to make? + A tale I'll give, where female charms partake, + And prove resistless whatsoe'er assail: + Blessed BEAUTY, NATURE ever should prevail. + + HAD Fate decreed our YOUTH, at early morn, + To view the angel features you adorn, + The captivating pow'rs AURORA bless, + Or airy SPRING bedecked in beauteous dress, + And all the azure canopy on high + Had vanished like a dream, once you were nigh. + And when his eyes at length your charms beheld, + His glowing breast with softest passion swelled; + Superior lustre beamed at ev'ry view; + No pleasures pleased: his soul was fixed on you. + Crowns, jewels, palaces, appeared as naught. + 'Twas solely beauteous woman now he sought. + + A WOOD, from earliest years, his home had been, + And birds the only company he'd seen, + Whose notes harmonious often lulled his care, + Beguiled his hours, and saved him from despair; + Delightful sounds! from nightingale and dove + Unknown their tongue, yet indicant of love. + + THIS savage, solitary, rustick school, + The father chose his infancy to rule. + The mother's recent death induced the sire, + To place the son where only beasts retire; + And long the forest habitants alone + Were all his youthful sight had ever known. + + TWO reasons, good or bad, the father led + To fly the world:--all intercourse to dread + Since fate had torn his lovely spouse from hence; + Misanthropy and fear o'ercame each sense; + Of the world grown tired, he hated all around:-- + Too oft in solitude is sorrow found. + His partner's death produced distaste of life, + And made him fear to seek another wife. + A hermit's gloomy, mossy cell he took, + And wished his child might thither solely look. + + AMONG the poor his little wealth he threw, + And with his infant son alone withdrew; + The forest's dreary wilds concealed his cell; + There Philip (such his name) resolved to dwell. + + BY holy motives led, and not chagrin, + The hermit never spoke of what he'd seen; + But, from the youth's discernment, strove to hide, + Whate'er regarded love, and much beside, + The softer sex, with all their magick charms, + That fill the feeling bosom with alarms. + As years advanced, the boy with care he taught; + What suited best his age before him brought; + At five he showed him animals and flow'rs, + The birds of air, the beasts, their sev'ral pow'rs; + And now and then of hell he gave a hint, + Old Satan's wrath, and what might awe imprint, + How formed, and doomed to infamy below; + In childhood FEAR 's the lesson first we know! + + THE years had passed away, when Philip tried, + In matters more profound his son to guide; + He spoke of Paradise and Heav'n above; + But not a word of woman,--nor of LOVE. + Fifteen arrived, the sire with anxious care, + Of NATURE'S works declaimed,--but not the FAIR: + An age, when those, for solitude designed, + Should be to scenes of seriousness confined, + Nor joys of youth, nor soft ideas praised + The flame soon spreads when Cupid's torch is raised. + + AT length, when twenty summers time had run, + The father to the city brought his son; + With years weighed down, the hermit scarcely knew + His daily course of duty to pursue; + And when Death's venomed shaft should on him fall; + On whom could then his boy for succour call? + How life support, unknowing and unknown? + Wolves, foxes, bears, ne'er charity have shown; + And all the sire could give his darling care, + A staff and wallet, he was well aware + Fine patrimony, truly, for a child! + To which his mind was no way reconciled. + Bread few, 'twas clear, the hermit would deny, + And rich he might have been you may rely; + When he drew near, the children quickly cried + Here's father Philip--haste, the alms provide; + And many pious men his friends were found, + But not one female devotee around: + None would he hear; the FAIR he always fled + Their smiles and wiles the friar kept in dread. + + OUR hermit, when he thought his darling youth; + Well fixed in duty and religious truth, + Conveyed him 'mong his pious friends, to learn + How food to beg, and other ways discern. + In tears he viewed his son the forest quit, + And fain would have him for the world unfit. + + THE city's palaces and lofty spires, + Our rustick's bosom filled with new desires. + The prince's residence great splendour showed, + And lively pleasure on the youth bestowed. + What's here? said he; The court, his friends replied:-- + What there?--The mansions where the great reside:-- + And these?--Fine statues, noble works of art: + All gave delight and gratitude his heart. + But when the beauteous FAIR first caught his view, + To ev'ry other sight he bade adieu; + The palace, court, or mansions he admired, + No longer proved the objects he desired; + Another cause of admiration rose, + His breast pervaded, and disturbed repose. + What's this, he cried, so elegantly neat? + O tell me, father; make my joy complete! + + WHAT gave the son such exquisite delight, + The parent filled with agonizing fright. + To answer, howsoe'er he'd no excuse, + So told the youth--a bird they call a goose. + + O BEAUTEOUS bird, exclaimed th' enraptured boy, + Sing, sound thy voice, 'twill fill my soul with joy; + To thee I'd anxiously be better known; + O father, let me have one for my own! + A thousand times I fondly ask the boon; + Let's take it to the woods: 'tis not too soon; + Young as it is, I'll feed it morn and night, + And always make it my supreme delight. + + + + + + + RICHARD MINUTOLO + + + IN ev'ry age, at Naples, we are told, + Intrigue and gallantry reign uncontrolled; + With beauteous objects in abundance blessed. + No country round so many has possessed; + Such fascinating charms the FAIR disclose, + That irresistibly soft passion flows. + + 'MONG these a belle, enchanting to behold, + Was loved by one, of birth and store of gold; + Minutolo (and Richard) was his name, + In Cupid's train a youth of brilliant fame: + 'Tween Rome and Paris none was more gallant, + And num'rous hearts were for him known to pant. + + CATELLA (thus was called our lady fair,) + So long, howe'er, resisted Richard's snare, + That prayers, and vows, and promises were vain; + A favour Minutolo could not gain. + At length, our hero weary, coldness showed, + And dropt attendance, since no kindness flowed; + Pretended to be cured:--another sought, + And feigned her charms his tender heart had caught: + Catella laughed, but jealousy was nigh; + 'Twas for her friend that now He heaved the sigh. + + THESE dames together met, and Richard too, + The gay gallant a glowing picture drew, + Of certain husbands, lovers, prudes, and wives; + Who led in secret most lascivious lives. + Though none he named, Catella was amazed; + His hints suspicions of her husband raised; + And such her agitation and affright, + That, anxious to procure more certain light, + In haste she took Minutolo aside, + And begged the names he would not from her hide, + With all particulars, from first to last:-- + Her ardent wish to know whate'er had passed. + + SO long your reign, said Richard, o'er my mind, + Deny I could not, howsoe'er inclined; + With Mrs. Simon often is your spouse; + Her character no doubt your spleen will rouse; + I've no design, observe to give offence, + But, when I see your int'rest in suspense, + I cannot silent keep; though, were I still + A slave, devoted wholly to your will, + As late I moved, I would not drop a word + Mistrust of lovers may not be absurd; + Besides, you'd fancy other motives led + To tell you of your husband what was said; + But heav'n be praised, of you I nothing want; + My object's plain--no more the fond gallant. + + I'VE lately certain information had, + Your spouse (I scarcely thought the man so bad,) + Has with the lady an appointment made; + At Jack's nice bagnio he will meet the jade. + + NOW clearly Jack's not rich, and there's no doubt; + A hundred ducats give, and--ALL will out; + Let him but have a handsome sum in view, + And any thing you wish, be sure he'll do; + You then can manage ev'ry way so well, + That, at the place assigned to meet his belle, + You'll take this truant husband by surprise;-- + Permit me in this nice affair to advise. + + THE lady has agreed, you will remark, + That in a room where ev'ry part is dark, + (Perhaps to 'scape the keeper's prying sight, + Or shame directs exclusion of the light,) + She will receive your gay inconstant spouse; + Now, take her place; the case deceit allows; + Make Jack your friend; nor haggle at the price; + A hundred ducats give, is my advice; + He'll place you in the room where darkness reigns; + Think not too fast, nor suffer heavy chains; + Do what you wish, and utter not a word; + To speak, assuredly would be absurd; + 'Twould spoil the whole; destroy the project quite; + Attend, and see if all things be not right. + + THE project pleased Catella to the soul; + Her wrath, no longer able to controul, + She Richard stopt; enough, enough, she cried; + I fully understand:--leave me to guide; + I'll play the fellow and his wanton lass + A pretty trick-shall all their art surpass, + Unless the string gives way and spoils my scheme; + What, take me for a nincompoop?--they dream. + + THIS said, she sought excuse to get away, + And went in quest of Jack without delay. + The keeper, howsoe'er, a hint had got; + Minutolo had schooled him for the plot; + Oft cash does wonders, and, if such the case + In France or Britain, when conferred a grace, + The bribe is taken, and the truth abused, + In Italy it will not be refused; + There this sole quiver Cupid useful finds,-- + + A purse well stored--all binds, gunlocks, or blinds: + Jack took the pelf from Richard and the dame; + Had Satan offered--'twould have been the same. + In short, Minutolo had full success, + All came about, and marked the spark's address. + + THE lady had at first some warm dispute + To many questions Jack was even mute; + But when he saw the golden charms unmasked, + Far more he promised than Catella asked. + + THE time of rendezvous arrived, our spark + To Jack's repaired, and found the room quite dark; + So well arranged, no crevice could he find, + Through which the light might hurt what he designed. + + NOT long he waited, ere our jealous dame, + Who longed to find her faithless husband, came, + Most thoroughly prepared his ears to greet. + Jack brought the couple presently to meet. + The lady found, howe'er, not what she sought: + No guilty spouse, nor Mrs. Simon caught; + But wily Richard, who, without alarms, + In silence took Catella in his arms. + What further passed between the easy pair, + Think what you will, I mean not to declare; + The lover certainly received delight + The lady showed no terror nor affright; + On neither side a syllable was dropt + With care Minutolo his laughter stopt; + Though difficult, our spark succeeded well; + No words of mine can Richard's pleasure tell. + His fav'rite beauteous belle he now possessed, + And triumphed where so oft he'd been repressed, + Yet fondly hoped her pardon he should get, + Since they together had so gaily met. + + AT length, the fair could no longer contain: + Vile wretch, she cried, I've borne too much 'tis plain; + I'm not the fav'rite whom thou had'st in view: + To tear thy eyes out justly were thy due, + 'Tis this, indeed, that makes thee silent keep, + Each morn feign sickness, and pretend to sleep, + Thyself reserving doubtless for amours:-- + Speak, villain! say, of charms have I less stores? + Or what has Mrs. Simon more than I? + A wanton wench, in tricks so wondrous sly! + Where my love less? though truly now I hate; + Would that I'd seen thee hung, thou wretch ingrate! + + MINUTOLO, while thus Catella spoke, + Caressed her much, but silence never broke; + A kiss e'en tried to gain, without success; + She struggled, and refused to acquiesce; + Begone! said she, nor treat me like a child; + Stand off!--away!--thy taction is defiled; + My tears express an injured woman's grief; + No more thy wife I'll be, but seek relief; + Return my fortune--go:--thy mistress seek; + To be so constant:--How was I so weak? + It surely would be nothing more than right, + Were Richard I to see this very night, + Who adoration constantly has paid:-- + You much deserve to be a cuckold made; + I'm half inclined, I vow, to do the worst. + At this our arch gallant with laughter burst. + What impudence!--You mock me too? she cried + Let's see, with blushes if his face be dyed? + When from his arms she sprang, a window sought; + The shutters ope'd, and then a view she caught; + Minutolo, her lover! * * * what surprise! + Pale, faint, she instant grew, and closed her eyes: + Who would have thought, said she, thou wert so base? + I'm lost! * * * for ever sunk in dire disgrace! + + WHO'LL, know it? Richard earnestly replied; + In Jack's concealment we may both confide; + Excuse the trick I've played and ne'er repine; + Address, force, treachery, in love combine; + All are permitted when intrigue 's the word; + To hold the contrary were quite absurd. + Till stratagem was used I naught could gain, + But looks and darts from eyes, for all my pain. + I've paid myself;--Would you have done it?--No; + 'Tis all as might be wished;--come, smiles bestow; + I'm satisfied, the fault was not with you. + In this, to make you wretched, naught I view; + Why sigh and groan?--What numbers could I name, + Who would be happy to be served the same. + + HIS reas'ning yet could not the belle appease; + She wept, and sought by tears her mind to ease; + Affliction highly added to her charms; + Minutolo still gave her new alarms; + He took her hand, which she at once withdrew: + Away, she cried; no longer me pursue; + Be satisfied; you surely don't desire + That I assistance from the house require, + Or rouse the neighbours with my plaintive cries + I'll ev'ry thing declare without disguise. + + SUCH folly don't commit, replied the spark; + Your wisest plan is nothing to remark: + The world at present is become so vile, + If you the truth divulge, they'll only smile; + Not one a word of treachery would believe, + But think you came--and money to receive: + Suppose, besides, it reached your husband's ears; + Th' effect has reason to excite your fears; + 'Twould give displeasure and occasion strife: + Would you in duels wish to risk his life? + Whatever makes you with him disagree, + At all events, I'm full as bad as he. + + THESE reasons with Catella greatly weighed + Since things, continued he, are thus displayed; + And cannot be repaired, console your mind; + A perfect being never was designed. + If, howsoe'er you will * * * but say no more; + Such thoughts for ever banish, I implore. + 'Mid all my perseverance, zeal, and art, + I nothing got but frowns that pierced the heart: + 'Twill now on you depend if pleasure prove + This day imperfect, ere from hence we move. + What more remains to do? the worst is past; + 'Tis step the first that costs, however classed. + + So well Minutolo preferred his suit, + The lady with him more would not dispute, + With downcast eyes she listened to his prayer, + And looked disposed to tranquilize his care; + From easy freedom soon he 'gan to soar; + A smile received:--a kiss bestowed and more: + At length, the lady passed resistance by, + And all conceded, e'en without a sigh. + + OUR hero felt a thousand times more blessed + Than when he first the beauteous fair caressed; + For when a flame reciprocal is raised, + The bliss redoubles, and by all is praised. + + THUS Richard pleasantly employed his time, + Contented lived, concentring joys sublime. + A sample, now, we have given of his pow'rs, + And who would wish for more delightful hours? + O grant, kind heav'n! that I the like may meet, + And ever prove so wary and discreet. + + + + + + + THE MONKS OF CATALONIA + + + TO you, my friends, allow me to detail, + The feats of monks in Catalonia's vale, + Where oft the holy fathers pow'rs displayed, + And showed such charity to wife and maid, + That o'er their minds sweet fascination reigned, + And made them think, they Paradise had gained. + + SUCH characters oft preciously advise, + And youthful easy female minds surprise, + The beauteous FAIR encircle with their net, + And, of the feeling heart, possession get: + Work in the holy vineyard, you may guess, + And, as our tale will show, with full success. + + IN times of old, when learning 'mong the FAIR, + Enough to read the testament, was rare, + (Times howsoe'er thought difficult to quote,) + A swarm of monks of gormandizing note, + Arrived and fixed themselves within a town, + For young and beauteous belles of great renown, + While, of gallants, there seemed but very few, + Though num'rous aged husbands you might view. + + A NOBLE chapel soon the fathers raised, + To which the females ran and highly praised, + Surveyed it o'er and confidently thought, + 'Twas there, of course, salvation should be sought. + And when their faith had thoroughly been proved, + To gain their point the monks the veil removed.-- + Good father Andrew scorned to use finesse, + And in discourse the sex would thus address. + + IF any thing prevent your sov'reign bliss, + And Paradise incautiously you miss, + Most certainly the evil will arise, + From keeping for your husbands large supplies, + Of what a surplus you have clearly got, + And more than requisite to them allot, + Without bestowing on your trusty friends, + The saving that to no one blessings lends. + + PERHAPS you'll tell me, marriage boons we shun; + 'Tis true, and Heav'n be praised enough is done, + Without those duties to require our share + You know from direful sin we guard the FAIR. + Ingratitude 's declared the height of crimes, + And God pronounced it such in early times; + For this eternally was Satan curst; + Howe'er you err, be careful of the worst. + Return to Heav'n your thanks for bounteous care, + And then to us a tithe of surplus spare, + Which costs you nothing worth a moment's thought; + And marks the zeal with which our faith is taught, + A claim legitimate our order opes, + Bestowed, for holy offices, by popes, + No charitable gift, but lawful right: + Priests well supported are a glorious sight. + Four times a year, exactly to a day, + Each wife this tithe should personally pay + Our holy saint requires that you submit: + 'Tis founded on decrees of holy writ. + All Nature carefully the law reveres, + That gratitude and fealty endears. + + NOW marriage works we rank as an estate, + And tithe is due for that at any rate. + We'll take it patiently, whate'er the toil: + Nor be o'er nice about the justful spoil. + Our order have not, you must surely know, + By many comforts, what we wish below. + + 'TIS right, however, that I now suggest, + Whatever passes must not be expressed; + But naught to husbands, parents, friends, reveal; + From ev'ry one the mysterious conceal. + Three words th' apostle taught: be these your care; + FAITH, CHARITY, and PRUDENCE learn to share. + + THE holy father, by his fine discourse, + Delivered with the most impressive force, + Gave wonderous satisfaction and surprise, + And passed with all for Solomon the wise; + Few slept while Andrew preached, and ev'ry wife, + His precepts guarded as she would her life; + And these not solely treasured in the mind, + But showed to practise them the heart inclined, + Each hastened tithe to bring without delay, + And quarrelled who should be the first to pay; + Loud murmurs rang, and many city dames, + Were forced to keep till morn the friar's claims, + And HOLY CHURCH, not knowing what to do, + Such numbers seemed to be in paying cue, + At length was forced, without restraint, to say, + The Lord commands that, till a future day, + You give us time to breathe:--so large the lot, + To serve for present we enough have got; + Too much the whole at once, but by degrees, + Your tithe we'll take and all contrive to please. + With us arrange the hour you would be here, + And some to-day:--to-morrow more we'll cheer; + The whole in order, and you'll clearly see, + That SOFTLY with FAIRLY best agree. + + THE sex inclined to follow this advice; + About receipts however they were not nice; + The entertainment greatly was admired, + And pure devotion all their bosoms fired, + A glass of cordial some apart received; + Good cheer was given, may be well believed; + Ten youthful dames brisk friar Fripart took, + Gay, airy, and engaging ev'ry look, + Who paid with pleasure all the monk could wish; + Some had fifteen:--some twelve to taste their dish; + Good friar Rock had twenty for his share, + And gave such satisfaction to the FAIR, + That some, to show they never grudged the price, + And proved their punctuality,--paid twice. + + So much indeed, that satiated with ways, + That six long months engaged their nights and days: + They gladly credit would have given now, + But found the ladies would not this allow, + Believing it most positively wrong, + To keep whate'er might to the church belong. + No tithe arrears were any where around, + So zealous were the dames in duty found, + They often in advance paid holy dues, + How pure the monks!--how just the ladies views! + The friars used despatch alone with those, + That for their fascinating charms they chose, + And sent the sempiternals to bestow, + The tribute they had brought on those below, + For in the refuse tithes that were their lot, + The laicks oft pleasant pickings got. + In short 'twas difficult to say, + What charity was shown from day to day. + + IT happened that one night a married dame, + Desirous to convey the monks their claim, + And walking with her spouse just by the spot, + Where dwelled the arch contrivers of the plot, + Good Heavens! said she, I well remember now, + I've business with a friar here, I vow; + 'Twill presently be done if you'll but wait; + Religious duties we must ne'er abate. + What duties? cried the husband with surprise; + You're surely mad:--'tis midnight I surmise; + Confess yourself to-morrow if required; + The holy fathers are to bed retired. + That makes no difference, the lady cried.-- + I think it does, the husband straight replied, + And thither I'll not let you go to-night:-- + What heinous sins so terribly affright, + That in such haste the mind you wish to ease? + To-morrow morn repair whene'er you please: + + YOU do me wrong, rejoined the charming fair; + I neither want confession nor a prayer, + But anxiously desire what is due to pay; + For if incautiously I should delay, + Long time 'would be ere I the monk should see, + With other matters he'll so busy be. + But what can you the holy fathers owe? + To which the lady said:--what don't you know? + A tithe, my dear, the friars always claim.-- + What tithe? cried he; it surely has a name. + Not know! astonishingly, replied the wife.-- + To which the husband answered:--On my life, + That women friars pay is very strange; + Will you particulars with me arrange? + How cunningly, said she, you seem to act; + Why clearly you're acquainted with the fact? + 'Tis Hymeneal works:--What works? cried he-- + Lord! said the dame, assuredly you see, + Why I had paid an hour ago or more + And you've prevented me when at the door; + I'm sure, of those who owe, I'm not the worst, + For I, in paying, always was the first. + + THE husband quite astonished now appeared; + At once a hundred diff'rent ills he feared; + But questioning his wife howe'er, he found, + That many other dames who lived around, + Like her; in paying tithes, the monks obeyed, + Which consolation to his breast conveyed. + Poor innocent! she nothing wished to hide; + Said she, not one but tithe they make provide; + Good friar Aubrey takes your sister's dues; + To father Fabry Mrs. B's accrues; + The mayoress friar William likes to greet, + A monk more handsome scarcely you will meet; + And I to friar Gerard always go; + I wished this night to pay him all I owe. + + ALAS! when tongues unbridled drop disguise, + What direful ills, what discords oft arise! + The cunning husband having thus obtained, + Particulars of what the fathers gained, + At first designed in secret to disclose, + Those scenes of fraud and matrimonial woes: + The mayor and citizens should know, he thought; + What dues were paid: what tithes the friars sought; + But since 'twas rather difficult to place, + Full credence, at the first, in such a case, + He judged it best to make the fellow speak, + To whom his wife had shown herself so weak. + + FOR father Gerard in the morn he sent, + Who, unsuspecting, to the husband went, + When, in the presence of the injured wife, + He drew his sword and swore he'd take his life, + Unless the mystery he would disclose, + Which he reluctantly through terror chose. + Then having bound the friar hand and foot, + And in another room his lady put, + He sallied forth his hapless lot to tell, + And to the mayor exposed the wily spell; + The corporation next; then up and down, + The secret he divulged throughout the town. + + A CRY for vengeance presently was heard; + The whole at once to slaughter, some preferred + While others would the place with fire surround, + And burn the house with those within it found. + Some wished to drown them, bound within their dress; + With various other projects you may guess; + But all agreed that death should be their lot, + And those for burning had most voices got. + + WITHOUT delay they to the convent flew; + But when the holy mansion came in view, + Respect, the place of execution changed; + A citizen his barn for this arranged; + The crafty crew together were confined, + And in the blaze their wretched lives resigned, + While round the husbands danced at sound of drum, + And burnt whatever to their hands had come; + Naught 'scaped their fury, monks of all degrees, + Robes, mantles, capuchins, and mock decrees: + All perished properly within the flames; + But nothing more I find about the dames; + And friar Gerard, in another place, + Had met apart his merited disgrace. + + + + + + + THE CRADLE + + + NEAR Rome, of yore, close to the Florence road, + Was seen a humble innkeeper's abode; + Small sums were charged; few guests the night would stay; + And these could seldom much afford to pay. + A pleasing active partner had the host + Her age not much 'bove thirty at the most; + Two children she her loving husband bore; + The boy was one year old: the daughter more; + Just fifteen summers o'er her form had smiled; + In person charming, and in temper mild. + + IT happened that Pinucio, young and gay, + A youth of family, oft passed the way, + Admired the girl, and thought she might be gained, + Attentions showed, and like return obtained; + The mistress was not deaf, nor lover mute; + Pinucio seemed the lady's taste to suit, + Of pleasing person and engaging air; + And 'mong the equals of our youthful fair, + As yet, not one a pref'rence had received; + Nor had she e'er in golden dreams believed; + But, spite of tender years, her mind was high, + And village lads she would not let come nigh. + + COLUTTA, (such her name,) though much admired; + And many in the place her hand desired, + Rejected some, and others would not take, + And this most clearly for Pinucio's sake. + Long conversations she could rarely get, + And various obstacles the lovers met; + No interviews where they might be at ease, + But ev'ry thing conspired to fret and teaze. + O parents, husbands! be advised by me; + Constraint with wives or children won't agree; + 'Tis then the god of love exerts his art, + To find admittance to the throbbing heart. + + PINUCIO and a friend, one stormy night, + The landlord's reached and would in haste alight; + They asked for beds, but were too late they found: + You know, sir, cried the host, we don't abound; + And now the very garrets we have let: + You'd better elsewhere try your wish to get, + And spite of weather, further on pursue + At best, our lodging is unfit for you. + + HAVE you no truckle bed? the lover cried; + No corner left?--we fain would here abide: + Why, truly, said the host, we always keep + Two beds within the chamber where we sleep; + My wife and I, of course, take one of these; + Together lie in t'other if you please. + The spark replied, this we will gladly do; + Come, supper get; that o'er, the friends withdrew: + Pinucio, by Coletta's sage advice, + In looking o'er the room was very nice; + With eagle-eyes particulars he traced, + Then 'tween the clothes himself and friend he placed. + A camp-bed for the girl was on the floor; + The landlord's, 'gainst the wall and next the door; + Another opposite the last was set, + And this, to guests, at certain times was let; + And 'tween the two, but near the parents' best, + A cradle for the child to rest its head, + From which a pleasant accident arrived, + That our gallant's young friend of rest deprived. + + WHEN midnight came, and this gay spark supposed + The host and hostess' eyes in sleep were closed, + Convinced the time appointed was at hand, + To put in execution what was planned, + He to the camp-bed silently repaired, + And found the belle by Morpheus not insnared; + Coletta taught a play that mortals find + Fatigues the body more than plagues the mind: + A truce succeeded, but 'twas quickly o'er: + Those rest not long who pilfer Cupid's store. + + AGAIN, when to the room the hostess came, + And found the cradle rested not the same, + Good heav'ns! cried she, it joins my husband's head: + And, but for that, I truly had been led + To lay myself unthinkingly beside + The strangers whom with lodging we provide; + But, God be praised, this cradle shows the place + Where my good husband's pillow I must trace. + This said, she with the friend was quickly laid, + Without suspecting what mistake she'd made. + + BETWEEN the lovers all was blithe and gay, + When suddenly the friend, though far from day, + Was forced to rise ('twas plain a pressing case,) + And move the infant's cradle from its place, + To ope the door, and lest he noise might make, + Or any way by chance the child should wake, + He set it carefully beside his bed, + And (softly treading) to the garden sped. + + ON his return he passed the cradle by; + To place it as before he would not try, + But went to sleep; when presently a sound, + From something that had tumbled, rang around, + Awoke his wife, who ran below, + That what had happened she might clearly know. + No fool in such adventures was our Wight: + The opportunity he would not slight, + But played the husband well: no, no, I'm wrong; + He played it ill:--too oft, too much, too long; + For whosoe'er would wish to do it well, + Should softly go:--the gentle most excel. + + IN truth, the wife was quite surprised to find + Her spouse so much to frolicking inclined; + Said she, what ails the man, he's grown so gay? + A lad of twenty's not more fond of play. + Well! let's enjoy the moments while we can; + God's will be done, since life is but a span! + + THE words were scarcely said, when our gallant + Renewed his fun, and nothing seemed to want; + Indeed, the hostess still her charms possessed, + And, on occasion, well might be caressed. + + MEANWHILE Coletta, dreading a surprise, + Prevailed upon her paramour to rise; + 'Twas nearly break of day when he withdrew, + But, groping to his place the way anew, + Pinucio, by the cradle too, was led + To miss his friend's and take the landlord's bed. + No sooner in than with an under voice, + (Intriguers oft too eagerly rejoice,) + Said he, my friend, I wish I could relate + The pleasure I've received; my bliss is great; + To you, I'm sorry, Fortune proves so cold; + Like happiness I'd fain in you behold; + Coletta is a morsel for a king; + Inestimable girl!--to me she'll cling. + I've many seen, but such a charming fair, + There's not another like her any where. + + WITH softest skin, delightful form and mien; + Her ev'ry act resembles BEAUTY's queen; + In short, before we'd ended with our fun, + Six posts (without a fiction) we had run. + The host was struck with what the spark averred, + And muttered something indistinctly heard. + + THE hostess whispered HIM she thought her spouse:-- + Again, my dear, such sparks let's never house; + Pray don't you hear how they together chat?-- + Just then the husband raised himself and sat; + Is this your plan? said he with mighty rage; + Was it for THIS you would my house engage? + You understand me, but I'll seek redress; + Think you so very cheap to have success? + What, would you ruin families at will, + And with our daughters take at ease your fill? + Away, I say! my house this moment quit; + And as for You, abominable chit, + I'll have your life: this hour you breathe your last; + Such creatures only can with beasts be classed. + + PINUCIO heard the lecture with dismay, + At once was mute, and grew as cold as clay; + A moment's silence through the room prevailed; + Coletta trembled, and her lot bewailed. + The hostess now, on ev'ry side perceived + Her peril great, and for the error grieved. + The friend, howe'er, the cradle called to mind, + Which caused the many ills we've seen combined, + And instantly he cried:--Pinucio! strange + You thus allow yourself about to range; + Did I not tell you when the wine you took, + 'Twould make many sad misfortunes hook? + Whene'er you freely drink, 'tis known fall well, + Your sleep's disturbed, you walk, and nonsense tell. + Come, come to bed: the morning soon will peep; + Pinucio took the hint, pretended sleep, + And carried on so artfully the wile, + The husband no suspicion had of guile. + The stratagem our hostess likewise tried, + And to her daughter's bed in silence hied, + Where she conceived her fortress was so strong, + She presently began to use her tongue, + And cried aloud:--Impossible the fact; + Such things he could not with Coletta act; + I've with her been in bed throughout the night, + And she, no more than I, has swerved from right; + 'Twere mighty pretty, truly, here to come; + At this the host a little while was dumb; + But in a lower tone at length replied + I nought with your account I'm satisfied. + + THE party rose; the titter circled round; + And each sufficient reason for it found; + The whole was secret, and whoe'er had gained, + With care upon the subject mute remained. + + + + + + + ST. JULIAN'S PRAYER + + + TO charms and philters, secret spells and prayers, + How many round attribute all their cares! + In these howe'er I never can believe, + And laugh at follies that so much deceive. + Yet with the beauteous FAIR, 'tis very true, + These WORDS, as SACRED VIRTUES, oft they view; + The spell and philter wonders work in love + Hearts melt with charms supposed from pow'rs above! + + MY aim is now to have recourse to these, + And give a story that I trust will please, + In which Saint Julian's prayer, to Reynold D'Ast, + Produced a benefit, good fortune classed. + Had he neglected to repeat the charm, + Believed so thoroughly to guard from harm, + He would have found his cash accounts not right, + And passed assuredly a wretched night. + + ONE day, to William's castle as he moved. + Three men, whose looks he very much approved, + And thought such honest fellows he had round, + Their like could nowhere be discovered round; + Without suspecting any thing was wrong, + The three, with complaisance and fluent tongue, + Saluted him in humble servile style, + And asked, (the minutes better to beguile,) + If they might bear him company the way; + The honour would be great, and no delay; + Besides, in travelling 'tis safer found, + And far more pleasant, when the party's round; + So many robbers through the province range, + (Continued they) 'tis wonderfully strange, + The prince should not these villains more restrain; + But there:--bad MEN will somewhere still remain. + + TO their proposal Reynold soon agreed, + And they resolved together to proceed. + When 'bout a league the travellers had moved, + Discussing freely, as they all approved, + The conversation turned on spells and prayer, + Their pow'r o'er worms of earth, or birds of air; + To charm the wolf, or guard from thunder's roar, + And many wonderful achievements more; + Besides the cures a prayer would oft produce; + To man and beast it proves of sov'reign use, + Far greater than from doctors e'er you'll view, + Who, with their Latin, make so much ado. + + IN turn, the three pretended knowledge great, + And mystick facts affected to relate, + While Reynold silently attention paid + To all the words the honest fellows said:-- + Possess you not, said one, some secret prayer + To bring you aid, when dangers round you stare? + To this our Reynold seriously replied, + Myself, on secret spells, I do not pride; + But still some WORDS I have that I repeat, + Each morn I travel, that I may not meet + A horrid lodging where I stop at night; + 'Tis called SAINT JULIAN'S PRAYER that I recite, + And truly I have found, that when I fail + To say this prayer, I've reason to bewail. + But rarely I neglect so good a thing, + That ills averts, and may such blessings bring. + And have you clearly said it, sir, to day? + Cried one of those he met upon his way. + Yes, Reynold answered. Well, replied the Wight; + I'll wage, I'm better lodged than you to-night. + + 'TWAS very cold, and darkness 'gan to peep; + The place was distant yet, where they might sleep. + Perhaps, said Reynold, 'tis your usual care, + In travelling, to say, like me, this prayer. + Not so, the other cried, to you I vow, + Invoking saints is not my practice now; + But should I lose, thenceforth I'll them address.-- + Said Reynold, readily I acquiesce; + My life I'd venture, should you to an inn, + For, in the town, I've neither friend nor kin, + And, if you like, we'll this exception make. + The other answered: Well, the bet I'll take; + Your horse and coat against my purse you wage, + And, sure of gaining, readily engage. + Our Wight might then have thoroughly perceived, + His horse was lost--no chance to be relieved. + + BESIDE a wood, as on the party moved, + The one, who betting had so much approved, + Now changed his tone, and in a surly way, + Exclaimed:--Alight--you'll find it time to pray; + Let me apprize you, distant is the place, + And much you'll need Saint Julian's special grace. + Come off, I tell you:--instantly they took + His purse, horse, clothes, and all their hands could hook + E'en seized his boots, and said with subtle sneer, + Your feet, by walking, won't the worse appear; + Then sought a diff'rent road by rapid flight, + And, presently the knaves were out of sight; + While Reynold still with stockings, drawers, and shirt, + But wet to skin, and covered o'er with dirt: + (The wind north-east in front--as cold as clay;) + In doleful dumps proceeded on his way, + And justly feared, that spite of faith and prayer, + He now should meet, at night, with wretched fare. + + HOWEVER, some pleasing hopes he still had yet, + That, from his cloak-bag, he some clothes might get; + For, we should note, a servant he had brought, + Who in the neighbourhood a farrier sought. + To set a shoe upon his horse, and then + Should join his master on the road agen; + But that, as we shall find, was not the case, + And Reynold's dire misfortune thence we trace. + In fact, the fellow, worthless we'll suppose, + Had viewed from far what accidents arose, + Then turned aside, his safety to secure, + And left his master dangers to endure; + So steadily be kept upon the trot, + To Castle-William, ere 'twas night, he got, + And took the inn which had the most renown; + For fare and furniture within the town, + There waited Reynold's coming at his ease, + With fire and cheer that could not fail to please. + His master, up to neck in dirt and wet, + Had num'rous difficulties o'er to get; + And when the snow, in flakes obscured the air, + With piercing cold and winds, he felt despair; + Such ills he bore, that hanging might be thought + A bed of roses rather to be sought. + CHANCE so arranges ev'ry thing around + ALL good, or ALL that's bad is solely found; + When favours flow the numbers are so great, + That ev'ry wish upon us seems to wait; + But, if disposed, misfortunes to bestow; + No ills forgot: each poignant pang we know. + In proof, attend my friends, this very night, + The sad adventures that befell our wight, + Who, Castle-William did not reach till late, + When they, an hour or more, had shut the gate. + + AT length our traveller approached the wall, + And, somehow to the foot contrived to crawl; + A roofed projection fortune led him near, + That joined a house, and 'gan his heart to cheer. + Delighted with the change he now had got, + He placed himself upon the sheltered spot; + A lucky hit but seldom comes alone; + Some straw, by chance, was near the mansion thrown, + Which Reynold 'neath the jutting penthouse placed + There, God be praised, cried he, a bed I've traced. + + MEANWHILE, the storm from ev'ry quarter pressed; + Our traveller was soon to death distressed; + With cold benumbed; by fell despair o'erspread; + He trembled, groaned:--teeth chattered in his head; + So loud his plaints, at length they reached the ear + Of one who dwelled within the mansion near: + A servant girl; her mistress brisk and gay: + A youthful widow, charming as the day; + The governor she privately received: + A noble marquis, who her cares relieved. + Oft interrupted when he sought the fair, + And wished at ease her company to share; + Desirous too of passing quite unknown, + A private door he presently was shown, + That opened to the fields, and gave access: + Through this he visited with such address, + That none within the town his commerce viewed, + Nor e'en a servant's eye his course pursued. + Surprise I feel, since pleasures of the mind, + Apparently were not for lords designed; + More pleased they seem when made the talk around + And soft amours divulged, delights are found. + + IT happened that the night our Job arrived, + And, stretched on straw, misfortune just survived, + The lady thought her fond gallant to see, + And ev'ry moment hoped with him to be. + The supper ready, and the room prepared, + Each rarity was served: no trouble spared; + Baths, perfumes, wines, most exquisite, in place, + And ev'ry thing around displaying grace, + With Cupid's whole artillery in view, + Not his, who would with sighs alone pursue, + But that kind god who always favour shows, + The source of happiness, whence pleasure flows. + + MEANWHILE, however, while thus the lady sought. + By ev'ry charm to please, a note was brought; + A page conveyed it, by the marquis sent, + To say his coming business would prevent. + The disappointment doubtless was severe, + But consolation certainly was near; + It proved to Reynold wonderfully kind, + For scarcely had our traveller resigned, + And groaned aloud, but, tender as her dame, + In haste the confidential servant came, + And to the widow said:--I hear below + Some poor unfortunate o'ercome with woe; + 'Tis piercing cold, and he perhaps will die + Some place, pray grant, where he to-night may lie. + + MOST readily, replied the courteous fair, + We never use the garret:--lodge him there; + Some straw upon a couch will make a bed, + On which the wand'rer may repose his head; + Shut well the door, but first provide some meat, + And then permit him thither to retreat. + + WITHOUT this timely help 'twas clear our wight + Had ne'er survived the horrors of the night; + The door was ope'd, and Reynold blessed the hand + That gave relief, and stopt life's ebbing sand. + His tale he told; got spirits, strength, and ease; + In person tall, well made, and formed to please, + He looked not like a novice in amour, + Though young, and seeking shelter at a door. + His want of dress and miserable state + Raised shame indeed, and showed distress was great. + Though LOVE be seen in Nature's pure array, + No dirt appears, however you survey. + + THIS servant girl now hastened to the fair, + And ev'ry circumstance detailed with care. + See, said the lady, if within the press + There be not clothes to furnish him a dress; + My husband, now no more, must some have left; + Yes, said the girl, you're not of them bereft, + I recollect his wardrobe did abound; + And presently a handsome suit she found. + + MEANWHILE the lady having learned the name + Of Reynold D'Ast, his quality and fame, + (Himself it seems particulars detailed, + While all around his suff'rings keen bewailed,) + Her orders gave, the bath for her prepared + Should now receive the man her care had spared. + Unasked, the stranger this attention got, + And well perfumed ere clothes they would allot. + When dressed, he waited on the widow fair, + And paid his compliments with graceful air. + + THE supper (for the marquis first designed) + At length was served with taste the most refined. + Our trav'ller glad, an appetite displayed; + The lady carefully her guest surveyed, + And anxious seemed to gratify his wish, + By helping what appeared his favourite dish. + Already, perhaps, she felt a Cupid's dart, + And in her throbbing bosom knew the smart; + Or sympathy, or pity for his woes, + Might touch the spring whence softest passion flows. + On ev'ry side assailed the youthful dame + Herself surrendered unto Cupid's flame. + Should I give way, said she, who'll tell the tale? + No risk is run if secrecy prevail. + The marquis merits to be played the trick; + He no excuse can have, unless he's sick. + One sin against another I may weigh, + And man for man will equally repay. + + SO inexperienced Reynold was not found, + But that he saw how things were going round, + And, that Saint Julian's Prayer would yet succeed, + To give him all the lodging he might need. + + THE supper o'er, our couple left alone, + What fairer field could truly have been shown? + The belle now wore a smart becoming dress, + Designed, in ev'ry view, to prepossess. + 'Twas NEGLIGENCE, so requisite to please + And fascinate, with airy, careless ease, + According to the taste which I pursue, + That made her charms so exquisite to view. + No gaudy tinsel: all was flowing light; + Though not superb, yet pleasing to the sight; + A neckerchief, where much should be concealed, + Was made so narrow,--beauties half revealed; + Beneath is shade--what words can ne'er express; + And Reynold saw enough the rest to guess. + No more I say; the belle indeed was fair, + Possessed of youth and all engaging air; + Tall, nicely formed; each grace, that hearts could win; + Not much of fat, nor yet appeared too thin. + Emotion, at the view, who would not feel? + To soft delight what bosom proves of steel? + No marble bust, philosopher, nor stone, + But similar sensation would have shown. + + THE silence first was broken by the dame; + Who spoke so freely, Reynold bolder came. + He knew not well, howe'er, discourse to find; + To help him out the widow was inclined; + Said she, you much remind me of a friend, + Whose ev'ry wish I sought with mine to blend + My husband (rest his soul!) had just those eyes, + That look, air, mouth:--the very height and size: + You greatly honour me, the spark replied: + Your charms howe'er might well have been his pride; + I ne'er beheld such soft engaging mien: + On earth, like beauty never yet was seen. + But, in extremes to be, appears my lot; + Just now I felt quite chilled:--at present hot; + Pray tell me which is best? The fair looked down, + And humbly seemed to wave the proffered crown, + That she might still more flattery receive + Address not small, if we'll our eyes believe. + The swain now praised each charm within his view, + And whatsoe'er his wishes could pursue; + Where hope was strong, and expectation high, + She would not long be cruel and deny. + To give the praise, your due, the lover cried, + And note the beauties that my heart divide, + 'Twould take an age, and I've a single night, + Which surely might be passed with more delight. + The widow smiled; enough it seems was said; + And Reynold shortened--what to nothing led. + In war or love, time equally is dear; + More happy than our spark none could appear; + No point but what he gained; the smiling dame + Resistance only showed to raise the flame; + Nor more nor less; each belle like art has got, + And practises at will, or maid or not. + + BUT truly, it was never my intent + To count each favour she to Reynold lent; + Particulars exact of ev'ry kiss, + And all the preludes incident to bliss; + Both, doubtless, knew more ways than one to please; + And sought, with anxious care, love's charms to seize. + On recollection of the wretched state + In which our traveller had moved of late, + Some favour was bestowed:--there, cried the dame, + Is something to repay the road you came; + This for the cold; that fear; there thieves disgraced; + So, one by one, the whole was soon effaced. + In this way to be paid for ills we meet, + Who'd not be satisfied with boons so sweet? + And we conclude, that Reynold on the spot, + Love's am'rous recompense of pleasures got. + Now easy conversation was renewed; + Then mutual kisses; ev'ry sweet pursued. + 'Twas time for bed; howe'er, the widow fair + Determined that her own the spark should share; + 'Twas prudent, doubtless; like a lady wise; + Gallantly done: one room would well suffice. + + WHAT further passed betwixt the pair that night; + I cannot say, though we'll believe 'twas right; + Between the clothes when laid, and unrestrained, + Most clearly, Reynold all his wishes gained. + There he was recompensed for ev'ry grief; + The lady too, received so much relief, + That she desired his company again, + But still these visits secrets should remain; + 'Twas requisite the governor to see; + Howe'er the dame delighted seemed to be, + And not content with what she had bestowed, + A purse well stored with gold to Reynold showed: + He took no more, indeed, than what would pay + The bare expenses on his homeward way; + Then sought the street that to the tavern led, + Where still his lazy servant was in bed; + The fellow mauled; then changed throughout his dress; + Since to the cloak-bag now he had access. + His fortune to complete, that day they took + The very wretches that he wished to hook. + He to the judge repaired with ev'ry haste; + In such a case you never time should waste; + For, once the things are into court received, + 'Tis like the lion's den: naught e'er 's retrieved; + Their hands are closed, not 'gainst what may be brought + But to secure what from their grasp is sought. + Who seeks redress by law, facts oft have shown, + May bless his stars if he but keep his own. + + THE trial o'er, a gallows treble-faced, + Was, for their swinging, in the market placed, + ONE of the three harangued the mob around, + (His speech was for the others also found) + Then, 'bout their necks the halters being tied, + Repentant and confessed the culprits died. + + WHO, after this, will doubt the pow'r of prayers? + These silly knaves had banished all their cares; + And when at ease they thought to skip and prance, + Were seized and quickly taught another dance. + On t'other hand, where dire distress prevailed, + And death, in various ways, our spark assailed, + A beauty suddenly his senses charmed, + Who might a prelate's bosom have alarmed. + So truly fortunate, indeed, his lot, + Again his money, baggage, horse he got; + And, thank Saint Julian, howsoever tossed, + He passed a blissful night that nothing cost. + + + + + + + THE COUNTRYMAN WHO SOUGHT HIS CALF + + + A COUNTRYMAN, one day, his calf had lost, + And, seeking it, a neighbouring forest crossed; + The tallest tree that in the district grew, + He climbed to get a more extensive view. + Just then a lady with her lover came; + The place was pleasing, both to spark and dame; + Their mutual wishes, looks and eyes expressed, + And on the grass the lady was caressed. + At sights of charms, enchanting to the eyes, + The gay gallant exclaimed, with fond surprise:-- + Ye gods, what striking beauties now I see! + No objects named; but spoke with anxious glee. + The clod, who, on the tree had mounted high, + And heard at ease the conversation nigh, + Now cried:--Good man! who see with such delight; + Pray tell me if my calf be in your sight? + + + + + + + HANS CARVEL'S RING + + + HANS CARVEL took, when weak and late in life; + A girl, with youth and beauteous charms to wife; + And with her, num'rous troubles, cares and fears; + For, scarcely one without the rest appears. + Bab (such her name, and daughter of a knight) + Was airy, buxom: formed for am'rous fight. + Hans, holding jeers and cuckoldom in dread, + Would have his precious rib with caution tread, + And nothing but the Bible e'er peruse; + All other books he daily would abuse; + Blamed secret visits; frowned at loose attire; + And censured ev'ry thing gallants admire. + The dame, howe'er, was deaf to all he said; + No preaching pleased but what to pleasure led, + Which made the aged husband hold his tongue. + And wish for death, since all round went wrong. + Some easy moments he perhaps might get; + A full detail in hist'ry's page is met. + One night, when company he'd had to dine, + And pretty well was fill'd with gen'rous wine, + Hans dreamed, as near his wife he snoring lay, + The devil came his compliments to pay, + And having on his finger put a ring, + Said he, friend Hans, I know thou feel'st a sting; + Thy trouble 's great: I pity much thy case; + Let but this ring, howe'er, thy finger grace, + And while 'tis there I'll answer with my head, + THAT ne'er shall happen which is now thy dread: + Hans, quite delighted, forced his finger through; + You drunken beast, cried Bab, what would you do? + To love's devoirs quite lost, you take no care, + And now have thrust your finger God knows where! + + + + + + + THE HERMIT + + + WHEN Venus and Hypocrisy combine, + Oft pranks are played that show a deep design; + Men are but men, and friars full as weak: + I'm not by Envy moved these truths to speak. + Have you a sister, daughter, pretty wife? + Beware the monks as you would guard your life; + If in their snares a simple belle be caught: + The trap succeeds: to ruin she is brought. + To show that monks are knaves in Virtue's mask; + Pray read my tale:--no other proof I ask. + + A HERMIT, full of youth, was thought around, + A saint, and worthy of the legend found. + The holy man a knotted cincture wore; + But, 'neath his garb:--heart-rotten to the core. + A chaplet from his twisted girdle hung, + Of size extreme, and regularly strung, + On t'other side was worn a little bell; + The hypocrite in ALL, he acted well; + And if a female near his cell appeared, + He'd keep within as if the sex he feared, + With downcast eyes and looks of woe complete, + You'd ne'er suppose that butter he could eat. + + NOT far from where the hermit's cell was placed, + Within a village dwelled a widow chaste; + Her residence was at the further end + And all her store--a daughter as a friend, + Who candour, youth, and charms supreme possessed; + And still a virgin lived, howe'er distressed. + Though if the real truth perhaps we name, + 'Twas more simplicity than virtuous aim; + Not much of industry, but honest heart; + No wealth, nor lovers, who might hope impart. + In Adam's days, when all with clothes were born, + She doubtless might like finery have worn; + A house was furnished then without expense; + For sheets or mattresses you'd no pretence; + Not e'en a bed was necessary thought + No blankets, pillowbiers, nor quilts were bought. + Those times are o'er; then Hymen came alone; + But now a lawyer in his train is shown. + + OUR anchorite, in begging through the place; + This girl beheld,--but not with eyes of grace. + Said he, she'll do, and, if thou manag'st right, + Lucius, at times, with her to pass the night. + No time he lost, his wishes to secure: + The means, we may suppose, not over pure. + + QUITE near the open fields they lived, I've said; + An humble, boarded cottage o'er their head. + One charming night--no, I mistake 'tis plain, + Our hermit, favoured much by wind and rain, + Pierced in the boarding, where by time 'twas worn; + A hole through which he introduced a horn; + And loudly bawled:--attend to what I say, + Ye women, my commands at once obey. + This voice spread terror through the little cot; + Both hid their heads and trembled for their lot; + But still our monk his horn would sound aloud + Awake! cried he; your favour God has vowed; + My faithful servant, Lucius, haste to seek; + At early dawn go find this hermit meek + To no one say a word: 'tis Heav'n ordains; + Fear nothing, Lucius ever blessed remains; + I'll show the way myself: your daughter place, + Good widow, with this holy man of grace; + And from their intercourse a pope shall spring, + Who back to virtue christendom will bring. + + HE spoke to them so very loud and clear, + They heard, though 'neath the clothes half dead with fear. + Some time howe'er the females lay in dread; + At length the daughter ventured out her head, + And, pulling hastily her parent's arm, + Said she, dear mother, (not suspecting harm) + Good Heav'ns! must I obey and thither go? + What would the holy man on me bestow? + I know not what to say nor how to act; + Now cousin Anne would with him be exact, + And better recollect his sage advice:-- + Fool! said the mother, never be so nice; + Go, nothing fear, and do whate'er's desired; + Much understanding will not be required; + The first or second time thou'lt get thy cue, + And cousin Anne will less know what to do. + Indeed? the girl replied; well, let's away, + And we'll return to bed without delay. + But softly, cried the mother with a smile; + Not quite so fast, for Satan may beguile; + And if 'twere so, hast taken proper care? + I think he spoke like one who would ensnare. + To be precipitate, in such a case, + Perhaps might lead at once to dire disgrace. + If thou wert terrified and did'st not hear, + Myself I'm sure was quite o'ercome with fear. + No, no, rejoined the daughter, I am right: + I clearly heard, dear mother, spite of fright. + Well then, replied the widow, let us pray, + That we by Satan be not led astray. + + AT length they both arose when morning came, + And through the day the converse was the same. + At night howe'er the horn was heard once more, + And terrified the females as before. + Thou unbelieving woman, cried the voice, + For certain purposes of God the choice; + No more delay, but to the hermit fly, + Or 'tis decreed that thou shalt quickly die. + Now, mother, said the girl, I told you well; + Come, let us hasten to the hermit's cell; + So much I dread your death, I'll nothing shun; + And if 'tis requisite, I'll even run. + Away then, cried the mother, let us go; + Some pains to dress, the daughter would bestow, + Without reflecting what might be her fare:-- + To PLEASE is ev'ry blooming lass's care. + + OUR monk was on the watch you may suppose; + A hole he made that would a glimpse disclose; + By which, when near his cell the females drew, + They might, with whip in hand the hermit view, + Who, like a culprit punished for his crimes, + Received the lash, and that so many times, + It sounded like the discipline of schools, + And made more noise than flogging fifty fools. + + WHEN first our pilgrims knocked, he would not hear; + And, for the moment, whipping would appear; + The holy lash severely he applied, + Which, through the hole, with pain our females spied; + At length the door he ope'd, but from his eyes + No satisfaction beamed: he showed surprise. + With trembling knees and blushes o'er the face, + The widow now explained the mystick case. + Six steps behind, the beauteous daughter stood, + And waited the decree she thought so good. + The hypocrite howe'er the hermit played, + And sent these humble pilgrims back dismayed. + Said he, the evil spirit much I dread; + No female to my cell should e'er be led; + Excuse me then: such acts would sorrow bring; + From me the HOLY FATHER ne'er spring. + What ne'er from you? the widow straight replied: + And why should not the blessing, pray, be tried? + No other answer howsoe'er she got; + So back they trudged once more to gain their cot. + Ah! mother, said the girl, 'tis my belief, + Our many heavy sins have caused thus grief. + + WHEN night arrived and they in sleep were lost, + Again the hermit's horn the woodwork crossed; + Return, return, cried he with horrid tone; + To-morrow you'll have due attention shown; + I've changed the hermit's cold fastidious mind, + And when you come, he'll act as I've designed. + + THE couple left their bed at break of day, + And to the cell repaired without delay + Our tale to shorten, Lucius kind appeared + To rigid rules no longer he adhered. + The mother with him let her girl remain, + And hastened to her humble roof again. + The belle complying looked:--he took her arm, + And soon familiar grew with ev'ry charm. + + O HYPOCRITES! how oft your wily art + Deceives the world and causes poignant smart. + + AT matins they so very often met, + Some awkward indications caused regret. + The fair at length her apron-string perceived + Grew daily shorter, which her bosom grieved; + But nothing to the hermit she'd unfold, + Nor e'en those feelings to her mother told; + She dreaded lest she should be sent away, + And be deprived at once of Cupid's play. + You'll tell me whence so much discernment came? + From this same play:--the tree of art by name. + For sev'n long months the nymph her visits paid; + Her inexperience doubtless wanted aid. + + BUT when the mother saw her daughter's case, + She made her thank the monk, and leave the place. + The hermit blessed the Lord for what was done; + A pleasant course his humble slave had run. + He told the mother and her daughter fair, + The child, by God's permission, gifts would share. + Howe'er, be careful, said the wily wight, + That with your infant ev'ry thing goes right; + To you, from thence, great happiness will spring: + You'll reign the parent of what's more than king; + Your relatives to noble rank will rise: + Some will be princes; others lords comprise; + Your nephews cardinals; your cousins too + Will dukes become, if they the truth pursue; + And places, castles, palaces, there'll be, + For you and them of every high degree; + You'll nothing want: eternal is the source, + Like waters flowing in the river's course. + This long prediction o'er: with features grave, + His benediction to them both he gave. + + WHEN home returned, the girl, each day and night, + Amused her mind with prospects of delight; + By fancy's aid she saw the future pope, + And all prepared to greet her fondest hope; + But what arrived the whole at once o'erthrew + Hats, dukedoms, castles, vanished from the view: + The promised elevation of the NAME + Dissolved to air:-a little female came! + + + + + + + THE CONVENT GARDENER OF LAMPORECHIO + + + WHEN Cupid with his dart, would hearts assail, + The rampart most secure is not the VEIL; + A husband better will the FAIR protect, + Than walls or lattices, I much suspect. + Those parents, who in nunneries have got + Their daughters (whether willingly or not), + Most clearly in a glaring error prove, + To fancy God will round their actions move; + 'Tis an abuse of what we hold divine; + The Devil with them surely must combine. + Besides, 'twere folly to suppose that vice + Ne'er entered convent walls, and nuns were ice. + A very diff'rent sentiment I hold: + Girls, who in publick move, however bold, + Have greater terrors lest they get a stain; + For, honour lost, they never fame regain. + Few enemies their modesty attack; + The others have but one their minds to rack. + TEMPTATION, daughter of the drowsy dame, + That hates to move, and IDLENESS we name, + Is ever practising each wily art, + To spread her snares around the throbbing heart; + And fond DESIRE, the child of lorn CONSTRAINT, + Is anxious to the soul soft scenes to paint. + If I've a worthy daughter made a nun, + Is that a reason she's a saint?--Mere fun! + Avaunt such folly!--three in four you'll find, + Of those who wear the veil--have changed their mind; + Their fingers bite, and often do much worse: + Those convent vows, full soon, become a curse; + Such things at least have sometimes reached my ear + (For doubtless I must speak from others here); + Of his Boccace a merry tale has told, + Which into rhyme I've put, as you'll behold. + + WITHIN a nunnery, in days of yore, + A good old man supplied the garden-store; + The nuns, in general, were smart and gay, + And kept their tongues in motion through the day. + Religious duties they regarded less, + Than for the palour* to be nice in dress + Arranging ev'ry article to please, + That each might captivate and charm at ease; + The changes constantly they rang around, + And made the convent-walls with din resound. + Eight sisters and an abbess held the place, + And strange to say--there DISCORD you might trace. + All nine had youth, and many beauty too: + Young friars round the place were oft in view, + Who reckoned ev'ry step they took so well, + That always in the proper road they fell. + Th' aged gard'ner, of whom ere now we spoke, + Was oft bewildered, they would so provoke; + Capricious, whimsical, from day to day, + Each would command and try to have her way; + And as they ne'er agreed among themselves, + He suffered more than if with fifty elves; + When one was pleased, another soon complained: + At length to quit the nuns he was constrained. + He left them, poor and wretched as he came; + No cross, pile, money:--e'en his coat the same. + + A YOUTH of Lamporechio, gay and bold, + One day this gard'ner met as I am told; + And after conversation 'bout the place, + Said, he should like nun's service to embrace, + And that he wished sincerely to be hired: + He'd gratis do whatever was required. + 'Twas clear indeed his object was not pelf; + He thought however he might reward himself; + And as the sisters were not over wise, + A nun he now and then might make his prize; + Proceed from one to more with like address, + Till with the whole he'd had complete success. + Said Nuto (such we find the gard'ner's name), + Believe me, friend, you will be much to blame; + Some other service seek, I recommend; + These convent-dames will ne'er their whimseys end. + I'd rather live without or soup or bread, + Than work for them, however nicely fed. + + STRANGE creatures are these nuns, upon my word; + Their ways ridiculous and e'en absurd; + Who, with the sisterhood, has never been, + Has clearly yet, not perfect torment seen, + Such service, prithee, never try to gain; + To do what they require I know is vain; + One will have soft, and t'other asks for hard: + Thou'lt be a fool such ninnies to regard; + No work thou'lt do, whatever be the want: + THIS cabbages,--THAT carrots tells thee plant: + Said t'other, fain I'd bring it to the test; + I'm but a simpleton, it is confessed; + Yet still a month in place, and thou wilt see; + How well I with the convent-dames agree. + The reason is, my life is in its prime, + While thou art sunk in years and worn by time, + I'm proper for their work, and only ask, + To be admitted to the drudging task. + Well, said the former, if resolved to try, + To their factotum instantly apply; + Come; let's away. Lead on, the other cried; + I've got a thought, which I'll to you confide:-- + I'll seem an idiot, and quite dumb appear.-- + In that, said Nuto, only persevere, + And then perhaps the confessor thou'lt find, + With their factotum carelessly inclined; + No fears nor dark suspicions of a mute: + Thou'lt ev'ry way, my friend, their wishes suit. + + THE place, as was expected, soon he got; + And half the grounds to trench, at once his lot: + He acted well the nincompoop and fool, + Yet still was steady to the garden tool; + The nuns continually would flock around, + And much amusement in his anticks found. + + ONE day, as sleeping lay our sprightly wight, + Or feigning sleep, no matter which is right, + (Boccace pretends the latter was the fact) + Two nuns (perhaps not two the most exact,) + Observing him extended on the sward, + While summer's heat from air so much debarred; + That few would venture from the convent-roof, + Lest, 'gainst the sun, their cheeks should not be proof: + Said one, approaching him, let's take this fool, + And place him in the garden-house to cool. + The lad was handsome, with engaging mien: + The nun admired the features she had seen, + And Cupid raised a wish to be at ease, + Where she, without restraint, herself might please. + What would you, cried the other, with him do? + You'll see, rejoined the first, if we pursue; + Just what might be expected from the place; + Christ! said the second (with a cross of grace), + You would not surely do what is forbid? + Suppose increase? it never could be hid; + Besides, should we be seen, 'twill be the cause, + Of dire disgrace to break such sacred laws. + + WE shall not be observed, the first replied; + These ills thy fancy forms: haste, let's decide, + And seize the moment while 'tis in our reach, + Without regard to what old dotards teach, + Or what may happen at a future hour; + Here's no one near: 'tis fully in our pow'r; + The time and place so thoroughly agree, + 'Twill be impossible our freaks to see; + But 'twill be right that one should watch with care; + While t'other with the lad seeks joys to share, + And irksome gloom endeavours to dispel: + He's dumb, you know, and tales can never tell. + The other answered, since 'tis your desire, + I'll acquiesce and do what you require; + You'll take him first: I see it is your aim; + And since it will oblige, I'll wave my claim; + Go, pleasure seek, and satisfy each wish: + You're always anxious for a fav'rite dish; + 'Tis only to oblige that I comply. + That, said the other, clearly I descry; + I'm well persuaded, thou art always kind; + But still I think thou would'st not be inclined; + In such a scene to take the leading part, + Thy bashfulness would counteract thy heart. + + Some time the squeamish sister watched the spot; + At length the other, who'd her wishes got, + The station took; the lab'rer tried to please + The second as the first, but less at ease; + So many favours fell not to her share, + And only treble comfort proved her fare. + + THE garden-path, and summer-house as well, + Were well remembered by each wanton belle; + No need of guides; and soon our spark contrived; + With sister Agnes also to be hived + A press-house at the convent end he chose, + in which he showed her how soft pleasure flows; + Nor Claudia nor Angelica would miss + The dormitory that, and cellar this; + In short the garret and the vaulted cave + Knew fully how the sisters could behave; + Not one but what he first or last regaled + E'en with the rigid abbess he prevailed, + To take a dance, and as the dame required + Her treble share of what was most admired, + The other nuns were oft obliged to fast, + While with the convent-head his time was passed. + + To no restoratives our Wight would run; + Though these do little, where much work is done: + So oft the lad was pressed for cheering play, + That with the abbess, when engaged one day, + He said, where'er I go, 'tis common talk, + With only sev'n an able bird should walk, + Yet constantly I've got no less than nine:-- + The abbess cried,--A miracle divine! + Here nuns, pray haste, and quickly come around; + We've fasted with success:--his tongue is found. + The eight encircled him with great surprise; + No longer dumb.--they viewed with eager eyes: + A consultation instantly was had, + When 'twas agreed to honour well the lad, + And try to make him secrecy observe; + But if dismissed, from silence he might swerve. + The active youth, well fed, well paid, thus blessed, + Did all he could,--and others did the rest. + He for the nuns procured a little lot, + That afterward two little friars got, + And in the sequel fathers soon became; + The sisters mothers too, in spite of shame; + But never name more justly was applied: + In vain their mysteries they strove to hide. + + + * The parlour in a convent is the room where the nuns are + permitted to speak to their friends through a lattice. + + + + + + + THE MANDRAKE + + + FLORENTINE we now design to show;-- + A greater blockhead ne'er appeared below; + It seems a prudent woman he had wed, + With beauty that might grace a monarch's bed; + Young, brisk, good-humoured, with engaging mien; + None in the town, or round, the like was seen: + Her praises every voice inclined to sing, + And judged her worthy of a mighty king; + At least a better husband she deserved: + An arrant fool he looked, and quite unnerved. + This Nicia Calfucci (for such his name) + Was fully bent to have a father's fame, + And thought his country honour he could do, + Could he contrive his lineage to pursue. + No holy saint in Paradise was blessed, + But what this husband fervently addressed; + From day to day, so oft he teazed for grace, + They scarcely knew his off'rings where to place. + No matron, quack, nor conjurer around, + But what he tried their qualities profound; + Yet all in vain: in spite of charm or book, + No father he, whatever pains he took. + + TO Florence then returned a youth from France; + Where he had studied,--more than complaisance: + Well trained as any from that polished court; + To Fortune's favours anxious to resort; + Gallant and seeking ev'ry FAIR to please; + Each house, road, alley, soon he knew at ease; + The husbands, good or bad, their whims and years, + With ev'ry thing that moved their hopes or fears; + What sort of fuel best their females charmed; + What spies were kept by those who felt alarmed; + The if's, for's, to's, and ev'ry artful wile, + That might in love a confidant beguile, + Or nurse, or father-confessor, or dog; + When passion prompts, few obstacles can clog. + + THE snares were spread, each stratagem was laid; + And every thing arranged to furnish aid, + When our gay spark determined to invest + Old Nicia with the cuckold's branching crest. + The plan no doubt was well conceived and bold; + The lady to her friends appeared not cold; + Within her husband's house she seemed polite; + But ne'er familiarly was seen invite, + No further could a lover dare proceed; + Not one had hope the belle his flame would heed. + + OUR youth, Calimachus, no sooner came, + But he howe'er appeared to please the dame; + His camp he pitched and entered on the siege + Of fair Lucretia, faithful to her liege, + Who presently the haughty tigress played, + And sent him, like the rest, away dismayed. + + HE, scarcely knew what saint he could invoke; + When Nicia's folly served him for a cloak; + However strange, no stratagem nor snare, + But what the fool would willingly prepare + With all his heart, and nothing fancy wrong; + That might to others possibly belong. + The lover and himself, as learned men, + Had conversations ev'ry now and then; + For Nicia was a doctor in the law: + Degree, to him, not worth a single straw; + Far better had he common prudence traced; + And not his confidence so badly placed. + + ONE day he to Calimachus complained, + Of want of heirs, and wished they could be gained: + Where lay the fault? He was a gay gallant; + Lucretia young with features to enchant. + When I at Paris was, replied our wight, + There passed a clever man, a curious sight, + His company with anxious care I sought, + And was at length a hundred secrets taught; + 'Mong others how, at will, to get an heir:-- + A certain thing, he often would declare; + The great Mogul had tried it on his queen, + just two years since, the heir might then be seen; + And many other princesses of fame, + Had added by it to their husband's name. + 'Twas very true; I've seen it fully proved: + The remedy all obstacles removed; + 'Tis from the root of certain tree expressed; + A juice most potent ev'ry where confessed, + And Mandrake called, which taken by a wife; + More pow'r evinces o'er organick life, + Than from conventual grace was e'er derived, + Though in the cloister youthful friars hived. + + TEN months from hence I'll you a father make; + No longer time than that I ask to take; + This period o'er, the child to church we'll bring,-- + If true, said Nicia, what a glorious thing! + You'll do me services I can't express.-- + Don't doubt it, cried the spark of smart address: + Must I the fact so oft to you repeat? + I've seen it with my eyes; 'tis most complete; + You mean to jest, assuredly my friend; + Would you by doubts the great Mogul offend? + So handsomely this traveller he paid, + No sign of discontent he e'er betrayed. + + 'TIS excellent, the Florentine replied; + Lucretia must be pleased to have it tried; + What satisfaction! in her arms to view + An infant that my lineage will renew. + Now, worthy friend, you god-father shall stand; + This very day pray take the thing in hand. + + NOT quite so fast, rejoined our smart gallant, + First know the plan, before consent you grant; + There is an ill attends the whole affair; + But what below, alas! is free from care; + This juice, possessing virtues so divine, + Has also pow'rs that prove the most malign: + Whoe'er receives the patient's first embrace; + Too fatally the dire effects will trace; + Death oft succeeds the momentary joy; + We scarcely good can find without alloy. + + YOUR servant; sir, said Nicia with surprise; + No more of this: the name will me suffice; + Lucretia we will let remain at ease: + What you propose can never truly please; + If I must die by getting of a son, + 'Tis better far the benefit to shun; + Go find some other for your wondrous art; + In fact I'm not inclined with life to part. + + HOW strange your conduct, cried the sprightly youth: + Extremes you seek, and overleap the truth; + Just now the fond desire to have a boy + Chased ev'ry care and filled your heart with joy; + At present quite the contrary appears + A moment changed your fondest hopes to fears; + Come, hear the rest; no longer waste your breath: + Kind Nature all can cure, excepting death. + What's necessary pray, that things succeed? + Some youthful clod for once should take the lead, + And clear the way of ev'ry venom round + Then you with safety may commence to sound; + No time you'll lose, but instantly begin + And you'll most certainly your object win. + This step is necessary to the end; + Some lad of little worth I recommend; + But not ill made, nor savagely robust, + To give your lady terror nor disgust. + We know that, used to Nicia's soft caress, + Lucretia would disrelish rude address; + Indeed 'tis possible in such event, + Her tender heart would never give consent; + This led me to propose a man that's young; + Besides, the more he proves for action strong, + The less of venom will behind remain, + And I'll engage that ev'ry drop he'll drain. + + AT first the husband disapproved the plan, + The infamy, and danger which they ran + Perhaps the magistrate might have him sought, + And he, of murder, guilty might be thought; + The sudden death would mightily perplex; + A fellow's creature's loss would sorely vex; + Lucretia, who'd withstood each tempter's charms, + Was now to be disgraced in rustick arms! + + CALIMACHUS, with eagerness replied; + I would a man of consequence provide, + Or one, at all events, whose anxious aim + Would be, aloud the myst'ry, to proclaim! + But fear and folly would contain the clown, + Or money at the worst would stop renown, + Your better half apparently resigned; + The clod without intention of the kind; + In short whate'er arrived, 'tis clear your case + Could not with Cuckoldom be well in place. + Besides 'tis no way certain but our blade, + By strength of nerves the poison may evade; + And that's a double reason for the choice, + Since with more certainty we shall rejoice: + The venom may evaporate in fume, + And Mandrake pleasing pow'rs at once assume; + For when I spoke of death, I did not mean, + That nothing from it would the person screen; + To-morrow we the rustick lad must name; + To-night the potion given your charming dame; + I've some already with me, all prepared; + Let nothing of your project be declared: + You should not seem to know what we've designed; + Ligurio you'll permit this clod to find; + You can most thoroughly in him confide: + Discretion, secrecy, with him reside. + One thing, however, nearly I'd forgot; + A bandage for the eyes we should allot; + And when well bound he nothing e'er can trace + Of whom, or what, the lady, or the place. + + THE whole arrangement Nicia much approved; + But now 'twas time the lady should be moved. + At first she thought it jest, then angry grew, + And vowed the plan she never would pursue; + Her life she'd rather forfeit than her name: + Once known, for ever lost would be her fame + Besides the heinous sin and vile offence, + God knew she rather would with all dispense; + Mere complaisance had led her to comply; + Would she admit a wretch with blearing eye, + To incommode, and banish tranquil ease? + Who could conceive her formed a clod to please? + Can I, said she, the paths of honour quit, + And in my bed a loathsome brute permit? + Or e'er regard the plan but with disdain? + No, by saint John, I ever will maintain, + Nor beau, nor clown, nor king, nor lord, nor 'squire, + Save Nicia, with me freely shall retire. + + THE fair Lucretia seemed so firmly bent, + To father Timothy at length they went, + Who preached the lady such a fine discourse, + She ceded more through penitence than force. + + MOREOVER she was promised that the lad + Should be nor clownish, nor in person bad; + Nor such as any way might give disgust, + But one to whom she perfectly might trust. + + THE wondrous draught was taken by the fair; + Next day our Wight prepared his wily snare: + Himself bepowdered like a miller's man, + With beard and whiskers to complete his plan; + A better metamorphose ne'er was seen; + Ligurio, who had in the secret been, + So thoroughly disguised the lover thought, + At midnight him to Nicia freely brought, + With bandage o'er the eyes and hair disdained, + Not once the husband of deceit complained. + + BESIDE the dame in silence slid our spark; + In silence she attended in the dark, + Perfumed and nicely ev'ry way bedecked; + For what? you ask, or whom did she expect; + Were all these pains a miller to receive?-- + Too much they cannot take, the sex believe; + And whether kings or millers be their aim, + The wish to please is ever found the same. + 'Tis double honour in a woman thought, + When by her charms a torpid heart is caught; + She, who in icy bosoms flame can raise, + Deserving doubtless is of treble praise. + + THE spark disguised, his place no sooner took, + But awkwardness he presently forsook; + No more the miller, but the smart gallant: + The lady found him kind and complaisant; + Such moments we'll suppose were well employed; + Though trembling fears not perfectly destroyed. + + SHE, to herself, remarked, 'tis very strange, + This lad's demeanour should so quickly change; + He's quite another character, 'tis clear; + What pity that his end should be so near; + Alas! he merits not so hard a fate; + I feel regret the lot should him await; + And while soft pleasure seems his heart's delight; + His soul is doomed from hence to take its flight. + + THE husband who so fully gave consent, + Was led his partner's suff'rings to lament + The spirit of a queen in truth she showed, + When cuckoldom was on her spouse bestowed; + In decoration, forced to acquiesce, + She would not condescend to join caress. + + LUCRETIA howsoe'er the lad approved; + His winning manners much her favour moved. + + WHEN he the subtle venom had subdued, + He took her hand, and having fondly sued, + Said he, your pardon lady now I ask; + Be not displeased when I remove the mask; + Your rage restrain; a trick on you's been played; + Calimachus am I; be not dismayed; + Approve my sacrifice; the secret's known; + Your rigour would be useless now if shown; + Should I be doomed howe'er to breathe my last, + I die content, rememb'ring what has passed; + You have the means my life at will to take; + More havock with me soft delight could make, + Than any poison that the draught possessed; + Mere folly, imposition, all the rest. + + TILL then Lucretia had resistance made; + To seem submissive she was still afraid; + The lover was not hated by the belle, + But bashfulness she could not well dispel, + Which, joined to simple manners mixed with fear, + Ungrateful made her, spite of self, appear. + + IN silence wrapt, and scarcely drawing breath, + By passion moved, and yet ashamed to death, + Not knowing how to act, so great her grief, + From tears, her throbbing bosom sought relief. + Look, could she e'er her lover in the face? + Will he not think me covered with disgrace? + Said she, within herself;--what else believe? + My wits were lost to let him thus deceive. + O'ercome by sorrow, then she turned her head, + And tried to hide herself within the bed, + At furthest end, but vain alas her aim, + The lover thither in a moment came: + Her only ground, remaining unsubdued, + Surrendered when the vanquisher pursued, + Who every thing submitted to his will, + And tears no more her eyes were found to fill; + Shame took to flight, and scruples spread the wing; + How happy those whom duping GAIN can bring! + + TOO soon Aurora for our spark appeared; + Too soon for her so thoroughly revered; + Said he, the poison, that can life devour, + Requires repeated acts to crush its pow'r. + The foll'wing days our youthful am'rous pair + Found opportunities for pleasing fare. + The husband scarcely could himself contain, + So anxiously he wished his aim to gain. + + THE lover from the belle at length arose, + And hastened to his house to seek repose; + But scarcely had he placed himself in bed, + When our good husband's footsteps thither led; + He, to the spark, related with delight, + How mandrake-juice succeeded in the night. + Said he, at first beside the bed I crept, + And listened if the miller near her kept, + Or whether he to converse was inclined, + And ev'ry way to act as was designed. + I then my wife was anxious to address, + And whispered that she should the youth caress; + Nor dread too much the spoiling of her charms: + Indeed 'twas all embarrassing alarms. + Don't think, said I, that either can deceive; + I ev'ry thing shall hear, you may believe; + Know, Nicia is a man, who well may say, + He's trusted without measure ev'ry day. + + PRAY recollect my very life 's at stake, + And do not many difficulties make. + Convince thereby how much your spouse you love; + 'Twill pleasure doubtless give the pow'rs above. + But should the blockhead any how prove shy + Send instantly to me; I shall be nigh; + I'm going now to rest; by no means fail; + We'll soon contrive and ev'ry way prevail. + But there was no necessity for this; + 'Tis pretty clear that nothing went amiss. + In fact the rustick liked the business well, + And seemed unwilling to resign the belle, + I pity him, and much lament his lot; + But--he must die and soon will be forgot: + A fig for those who used to crack their jest; + In nine months' time a child will be the test. + + + + + + + THE RHEMESE + + + NO city I to Rheims would e'er prefer: + Of France the pride and honour I aver; + The Holy Ampoule * and delicious wine, + Which ev'ry one regards as most divine, + We'll set apart, and other objects take: + The beauties round a paradise might make! + I mean not tow'rs nor churches, gates, nor streets; + But charming belles with soft enchanting sweets: + Such oft among the fair Rhemese we view: + Kings might be proud those graces to pursue. + + ONE 'mong these belles had to the altar led, + A painter, much esteemed, and who had bread. + What more was requisite!--he lived at ease, + And by his occupation sought to please. + A happy woman all believed his wife; + The husband's talents pleased her to the life: + For gallantry howe'er he was renowned, + And many am'rous dames, who dwelled around, + Would seek the artist with a double aim: + So all our chronicles record his fame. + But since much penetration 's not my boast, + I just believe--what's requisite at most. + + WHENE'ER the painter had in hand a fair, + He'd jest his wife, and laugh with easy air; + But Hymen's rights proceeding as they ought, + With jealous fears her breast was never fraught. + She might indeed repay his tricks in kind, + And gratify, in soft amours, her mind, + Except that she less confidence had shown, + And was not led to him the truth to own. + + AMONG the men attracted by her smiles, + Two neighbours, much delighted with her wiles; + Were often tempted, by her sprightly wit, + To listen to her chat, and with her sit; + For she had far the most engaging mien, + Of any charmer that around was seen. + Superior understanding she possessed; + Though fond of laughter, frolick, fun, and jest. + She to her husband presently disclosed + The love these cit-gallants to her proposed; + Both known for arrant blockheads through the town, + And ever boasting of their own renown. + To him she gave their various speeches, tones, + Each silly air: their tears, and sighs, and groans; + They'd read, or rather heard, we may believe, + That, when in love, with sighs fond bosoms heave. + Their utmost to succeed these coxcombs tried, + And seemed convinced they should not be denied; + A common cause they would the business hold, + And what one knew the other must be told. + Whichever first a favour might obtain, + Should tell his happiness to t'other swain. + + YE FAIR 'tis thus they oft your kindness treat: + The pleasure that he wished alone is sweet. + LOVE, is no more; of t'other, laid in earth, + We've here no traces scarcely from the birth. + You serve for sport and prey, to giddy youth, + Devoid of talents, principles, and truth. + 'Tis right they should suppose, still two are found; + Who take their course continually round. + The first that in your pleasure grounds appears; + I'd have you, on his wings, to use the shears. + + OUR lady then, her lovers to deceive, + One day observed--you shall, my friends, this eve; + Drink wine with me:--my husband will away, + And, what's delightful, till to-morrow stay; + We shall ourselves be able to amuse, + And laugh, and sing, and talk as we may choose. + 'Tis excellent, cried they: things well you frame; + And at the promised hour, the heroes came. + + WHEN introduced, and all supposing clear, + A sudden knocking turned their joy to fear; + The door was barred; she to the window flew; + I think, said she, that's to the master due; + And should it prove to be as I suspect:-- + 'Tis he, I vow:--fly, hide, he'll you detect; + Some accident, suspicion, or design, + Has brought him back to sleep, I now divine: + + OUR two gallants, when dangers round them pressed, + A closet entered, mightily distressed; + To get away 'twere folly to have tried; + The husband came, the roast he quickly spied; + With pigeons too, in diff'rent fashions cooked; + Why, hey! said he, as round about he looked: + What guests have you that supper you prepare? + The wife replied: two neighbours taste our fare: + Sweet Alice, and good Simonetta, mean + To-night, at table with us to be seen; + I'm quite rejoiced to think that you are here: + The company will more complete appear; + These dames will, by your presence, nothing lose; + I'll run and hasten them: 'twill you amuse; + The whole is ready; I'll at once away, + And beg, in coming, they'll no more delay. + + THE ladies named were wives of our gallants, + So fond of contraband, and smuggled grants, + Who, vexed to be confined, still praised the dame, + For skewing such address to 'scape from blame. + She soon returned, and with her brought the FAIR, + Who, gaily singing, entered free from care. + The painter them received with bow and kiss; + To praise their beauty he was not remiss; + Their dress was charming; all he much admired; + Their presence frolick, fun, and jest inspired, + Which no way pleased the husbands in the cage, + Who saw the freaks with marks of bursting rage: + The door half open gave a view complete, + How freely he their wives was led to treat. + + THINGS thus commenced, the supper next was served; + From playful tricks the painter never swerved, + But placed himself at table 'twist the two, + And jest and frolicking would still pursue. + To women, wine, and fun, said he, I drink; + Put round the toast; none from it e'er must shrink; + The order was obeyed; the glass oft filled + The party soon had all the liquor swilled: + + THE wife just then, it seems, no servant kept; + More wine to get, she to the cellar stept. + But dreading ghosts, she Simonetta prayed; + To light her down, she was so much afraid. + + THE painter was alone with Alice left, + A country belle, of beauty not bereft: + Slight, nicely made, with rather pretty face, + She thought herself possessed of ev'ry grace, + And, in a country town, she well might get + The appellation of a gay coquette. + + THE wily spark, perceiving no one near; + Soon ran from compliment to sweet and dear; + Her lips assailed;--the tucker drew aside, + And stole a kiss that hurt her husband's pride, + Who all beheld; but spouses, that are sage, + No trifles heed, nor peccadillos page; + Though, doubtless, when such meetings are possessed, + The simple kiss gives room to dread the rest; + For when the devil whispers in the ear + Of one that sleeps, he wakes at once to fear. + + THE husband, howsoe'er, at length perceived + Still more concessions, which his bosom grieved; + While on the neck a hand appeared to please, + The other wandered equally at ease; + Be not offended, love! was often said; + To frantick rage the sight her sposo led, + Who, beating in his hat, was on the move + To sally forth, his wrath to let them prove, + To thrash his wife, and force her spark to feel + his nervous arm could quickly make him reel. + + BE not so silly, whispered t'other Wight; + To stir up noise could ne'er be reckoned right; + Be quiet now: consider where we are; + Keep close, or else you'll all our pleasures mar; + Remember, written 'tis, By others do + The same as you would like they should by you; + 'Tis proper in this place we should remain + Till all is hushed in sleep: then freedom gain; + That's my opinion how we ought to act + Are you not half a cuckold now, in fact? + Fair Alice has consented:-that's enough; + The rest is mere compliance, nonsense, stuff! + + THE husband seemed the reasons to approve; + Some slight attempts the lady made to move; + No time for more. What then? you ask:--Why, then-- + The lady put her cap to rights agen; + No mark appeared suspicion to awake, + Except her cheek a scarlet hue might take. + Mere trifle that; from talking it might spring; + And other causes, doubtless, we could bring. + + ONE of the belles, howe'er, who went for wine, + Smiled, on returning, at the blushing sign: + The painter's wife; but soon they filled each glass, + And briskly round the bottle seemed to pass; + They drank the host, the hostess, and the FAIR, + Who, 'mong the three, should first her wishes share. + + AT length, a second time the bottle failed; + The hostess' fear of ghosts again prevailed, + And mistress Alice now for escort went, + Though much she wished the other to have sent; + With Simonetta she was forced to change, + And leave the painter at his ease to range. + + THIS dame at first appeared to be severe + Would leave the room, and feigned to be sincere; + But when the painter seized her by the gown, + She prudence showed, and feared he'd pull her down; + Her clothes might tear, which led her to remain: + On this the husband scarcely could contain; + He seemed resolved his hiding place to leave; + But instantly the other pulled his sleeve; + Be easy friend, said he, it is but right, + That equal favours we should have to-night, + And cuckoldom should take you to his care, + That we alike in ev'ry thing may fare. + + ARE we not brothers in adventure, pray? + And such our solemn promises, to-day. + Since one the painter clearly has disgraced, + The other equally should be embraced. + In spite of ev'ry thing you now advance, + Your wife as well as mine shall have a dance; + A hand I'll lend, if wanting it be found; + Say what you will, I'll see she has her round. + She had it then:--our painter tried to please; + The lady equally appeared at ease; + Full time the others gave, and when they came, + More wine was not required by spark nor dame; + 'Twas late, and for the day enough he'd done; + Good night was said: their course the belles had run; + The painter, satisfied, retired to rest; + The gay gallants, who lay so long distressed, + The wily hostess from the closet drew, + Abashed, disconsolate, and cuckolds too; + Still worse to think, with all their care and pain; + That neither of them could his wish obtain, + Or e'en return the dame what she procured + Their wives, whom she so cleverly allured. + + HERE ends our tale; the business is complete; + In soft amours success alone is sweet. + + + * The Saint Ampoule, or Holy Ampulla, a vial said to have + descended from heaven, in which was oil for anointing the + kings of France at the coronation, and formerly kept at Rheims. + + + + + + + THE AMOROUS COURTESAN + + + DAN CUPID, though the god of soft amour, + In ev'ry age works miracles a store; + Can Catos change to male coquets at ease; + And fools make oracles whene'er he please; + Turn wolves to sheep, and ev'ry thing so well, + That naught remains the former shape to tell: + Remember, Hercules, with wond'rous pow'r, + And Polyphemus, who would men devour: + The one upon a rock himself would fling, + And to the winds his am'rous ditties sing; + To cut his beard a nymph could him inspire; + And, in the water, he'd his face admire. + His club the other to a spindle changed, + To please the belle with whom he often ranged. + + A hundred instances the fact attest, + But sage Boccace has one, it is confessed, + Which seems to me, howe'er we search around, + To be a sample, rarely to be found. + 'Tis Chimon that I mean, a savage youth, + Well formed in person, but the rest uncouth, + A-bear in mind, but Cupid much can do, + LOVE licked the cub, and decent soon he grew. + A fine gallant at length the lad appeared; + From whence the change?--Fine eyes his bosom cheered + The piercing rays no sooner reached his sight, + But all the savage took at once to flight; + He felt the tender flame; polite became; + You'll find howe'er, our tale is not the same. + + I MEAN to state how once an easy fair, + Who oft amused the youth devoid of care, + A tender flame within her heart retained, + Though haughty, singular, and unrestrained. + Not easy 'twas her favours to procure; + Rome was the place where dwelled this belle impure; + The mitre and the cross with her were naught; + Though at her feet, she'd give them not a thought; + And those who were not of the highest class, + No moments were allowed with her to pass. + A member of the conclave, first in rank, + To be her slave, she'd scarcely deign to thank; + Unless a cardinal's gay nephew came, + And then, perhaps, she'd listen to his flame; + The pope himself, had he perceived her charms, + Would not have been too good to grace her arms. + Her pride appeared in clothes as well as air, + And on her sparkled gold and jewels rare; + In all the elegance of dress arrayed, + Embroidery and lace, her taste displayed. + + THE god of soft amour beheld her aim; + And sought at once her haughty soul to tame; + A Roman gentleman, of finest form, + Soon in her bosom raised a furious storm; + Camillus was the name this youth had got; + The nymph's was Constance, that LOVE'S arrow shot: + Though he was mild, good humoured, and serene, + No sooner Constance had his person seen, + And in her breast received the urchin's dart, + Than throbs, and trembling fears o'erwhelmed her heart. + The flame she durst declare no other way, + Than by those sighs, which feelings oft betray. + Till then, nor shame nor aught could her retain; + Now all was changed:--her bashfulness was plain. + As none, howe'er, could think the subtle flame + Would lie concealed with such a haughty dame, + Camillus nothing of the kind supposed. + Though she incessantly by looks disclosed, + That something unrevealed disturbed the soul, + And o'er her mind had absolute control. + Whatever presents Constance might receive, + Still pensive sighs her breast appeared to heave: + Her tints of beauty too, began to fail, + And o'er the rose, the lily to prevail. + + ONE night Camillus had a party met, + Of youthful beaux and belles, a charming set, + And, 'mong the rest, fair Constance was a guest; + The evening passed in jollity and jest; + For few to holy converse seemed inclined, + And none for Methodists appeared designed: + Not one, but Constance, deaf to wit was found, + And, on her, raillery went briskly round. + + THE supper o'er the company withdrew, + But Constance suddenly was lost to view; + Beside a certain bed she took her seat, + Where no one ever dreamed she would retreat, + And all supposed, that ill, or spirits weak, + She home had run, or something wished to seek. + + THE company retired, Camillus said, + He meant to write before he went to bed, + And told his valet he might go to rest + A lucky circumstance, it is confessed. + Thus left alone, and as the belle desired; + Who, from her soul, the spark so much admired; + Yet knew not how the subject to disclose, + Or, in what way her wishes to propose; + At length, with trembling accents, she revealed; + The flame she longer could not keep concealed. + + EXCEEDINGLY surprised Camillus seemed, + And scarcely could believe but what he dreamed; + Why, hey! said he, good lady, is it thus, + With favoured friends, you doubtful points discuss? + He made her sit, and then his seat regained + Who would have thought, cried he, you here remained; + Now who this hiding place to you could tell? + 'Twas LOVE, fond LOVE! replied the beauteous belle; + And straight a blush her lovely cheek suffused, + So rare with those to Cyprian revels used; + For Venus's vot'ries, to pranks resigned, + Another way, to get a colour, find. + + CAMILLUS, truly, some suspicions had, + That he was loved, though neither fool nor mad; + Nor such a novice in the Paphian scene, + But what he could at once some notions glean: + More certain tokens, howsoe'er, to get, + And set the lady's feelings on the fret, + By trying if the gloom that o'er her reigned + Was only sly pretence, he coldness feigned. + + SHE often sighed as if her heart would break; + At length love's piercing anguish made her speak: + What you will say, cried she, I cannot guess, + To see me thus a fervent flame confess. + The very thought my face with crimson dyes; + My way of life no shield for this supplies; + The moment pure affection 's in the soul, + No longer wanton freaks the mind control. + + MY conduct to excuse, what can I say? + O could my former life be done away, + And in your recollection naught remain, + But what might virtuous constancy maintain + At all event, my frankness overlook, + Too well I see, the fatal path I took + Has such displeasure to your breast conveyed, + My zeal will rather hurt than give me aid; + But hurt or not, I'll idolize you still: + Beat, drive away, contemn me as you will; + Or worse, if you the torment can contrive + I'm your's alone, Camillus, while alive. + + TO this harangue the wary youth replied + In truth, fair lady, I could ne'er decide, + To criticise what others round may do.-- + 'Tis not the line I'd willingly pursue; + And I will freely say, that your discourse + Has much surprised me, though 'tis void of force. + To you it surely never can belong, + To say variety in love is wrong; + Besides, your sex, and decency, 'tis clear, + To ev'ry disadvantage you appear. + What use this eloquence, and what your aim? + Such charms alone as your's could me inflame; + Their pow'r is great, but fully I declare, + I do not like advances from the FAIR. + + To Constance this a thunder-clap appeared; + Howe'er, she in her purpose persevered. + Said she, this treatment doubtless I deserve; + But still, from truth my tongue can never swerve, + And if I may presume my thoughts to speak, + The plan which I've pursued your love to seek, + Had never proved injurious to my cause, + If still my beauty merited applause. + From what you've said, and what your looks express + To please your sight, no charms I now possess. + Whence comes this change?--to you I will refer; + Till now I was admired, you must aver; + And ev'ry one my person highly praised; + These precious gifts, that admiration raised, + Alas! are fled, and since I felt LOVE'S flame, + Experience whispers, I'm no more the same; + No longer have charms that please your eyes: + How happy I should feel if they'd suffice! + + THE suppliant belle now hoped to be allowed + One half his bed to whom her sighs were vowed; + But terror closed her lips; she nothing said, + Though oft her eyes were to his pillow led. + To be confused the wily stripling feigned, + And like a statue for a time remained. + + AT length he said:--I know not what to do; + Undressing, by myself, I can't pursue. + Shall I your valet call? rejoined the fair; + On no account, said he, with looks of care; + I would not have you in my chamber seen, + Nor thought that here, by night, a girl had been, + Your caution is enough, the belle replied: + Myself between the wall and bed I'll hide, + 'Twill what you fear prevent, and ills avoid; + But bolt the door: you'll then be not annoyed; + Let no one come; for once I'll do my best, + And as your valet act till you're undressed; + To am'rous Constance this permission grant + The honour would her throbbing breast enchant. + + THE youth to her proposal gave consent, + And Constance instantly to business went; + The means she used to take his clothes were such, + That scarcely once his person felt her touch; + She stopt not there, but even freely chose + To take from off his feet, both shoes and hose + What, say you:--With her hands did Constance this? + Pray tell me what you see therein amiss? + I wish sincerely I could do the same, + With one for whom I feel a tender flame. + + BETWEEN the clothes in haste Camillus flew, + Without inviting Constance to pursue. + She thought at first he meant to try her love; + But raillery, this conduct was above. + His aim, howe'er more fully to unfold, + She presently observed:--'Tis very cold; + Where shall I sleep? said she: + + CAMILLUS + + Just where you please; + + CONSTANCE + + What, on this chair? + + CAMILLUS + + No, no, be more at ease; + Come into bed. + + CONSTANCE + + Unlace me then, I pray. + + CAMILLUS + + I cannot: I'm undressed, and cold as clay: + Unlace yourself.-- + + Just then the belle perceived + A poinard, which anxiety relieved; + She drew it from the scabbard, cut her lace, + And many parts of dress designed for grace, + The works of months, embroidery and flow'r + Now perished in the sixtieth of an hour, + Without regret, or seeming to lament, + What more than life will of the sex content. + + YE dames of Britain, Germany, or France, + Would you have done as much, through complaisance? + You would not, I'm convinced: the thing is clear; + But doubtless this, at Rome, must fine appear. + + POOR Constance softly to the bed approached, + No longer now supposing she encroached, + And trusting that, no stratagem again + Would be contrived to give her bosom pain. + Camillus said: my sentiments I'll speak; + Dissimulation I will never seek; + She who can proffer what should be denied, + Shall never be admitted by my side; + But if the place your approbation meet, + I won't refuse your lying at my feet. + + FAIR Constance such reproof could not withstand, + 'Twas well the poinard was not in her hand; + Her bosom so severely felt the smart, + She would have plunged the dagger through her heart: + But Hope, sweet Hope! still fluttered to her view; + And young Camillus pretty well she knew; + Howe'er with such severity he spoke, + That e'en the mildest saint it would provoke; + Yet, in a swain so easy, gentle, kind, + 'Twas strange so little lenity to find. + + SHE placed herself, as order'd, cross the bed, + And at his feet at length reclined her head; + A kiss on them she ventured to impress, + But not too roughly, lest she should transgress: + We may conjecture if he were at ease; + What victory! to see her stoop to please; + A beauty so renowned for charms and pride, + 'Twould take a week, to note each trait described; + No other fault than paleness he could trace, + Which gave her (causes known) still higher grace. + + CAMILLUS stretched his legs, and on her breast + Familiarly allowed his feet to rest; + A cushion made of what so fair appeared, + That envy might from ivory be feared; + Then seemed as if to Morpheus he inclined, + And on the pillow sullenly resigned. + At last the sighs with which her bosom heaved, + Gave vent to floods of tears that much relieved; + This was the end:--Camillus silence broke, + And to tell the belle with pleasing accents spoke + I'm satisfied, said he, your love is pure; + Come hither charming girl and be secure. + She t'wards him moved; Camillus near her slid; + Could you, cried he, believe that what I did, + Was seriously the dictates of my soul, + To act the brute and ev'ry way control? + No, no, sweet fair, you know me not 'tis plain: + I truly wish your fondest love to gain; + Your heart I've probed, 'tis all that I desire; + Mid joys I swim; my bosom feels the fire. + Your rigour now in turn you may display; + It is but fair: be bountiful I pray; + Myself from hence your lover I declare; + No woman merits more my bed to share, + Whatever rank, or beauty, sense or life, + You equally deserve to be my wife; + Your husband I'll become; forget the past; + Unpleasant recollections should not last. + Yet there's one thing which much I wish to speak + The marriage must be secret that we seek; + There's no occasion reasons to disclose; + What I have said I trust will you dispose, + To act as I desire: you'll find it best:-- + A wedding 's like amours while unconfessed; + One THEN both husband and gallant appears, + And ev'ry wily act the bosom cheers. + Till we, continued he, a priest can find, + Are you, to trust my promises inclined? + You safely may; he'll to his word adhere: + His heart is honest, and his tongue sincere. + + TO this fair Constance answered not a word, + Which showed, with him, her sentiments concurred. + The spark, no novice in the dumb assent, + Received her silence fully as 'twas meant; + The rest involved in myst'ry deep remains; + Thus Constance was requitted for her pains. + + YE Cyprian nymphs to profit turn my tale; + The god of LOVE, within his vot'ries pale, + Has many, if their sentiments were known, + That I'd prefer for Hymen's joys alone. + My wife, not always to the spindle true, + Will many things in life, not seem to view; + By Constance and her conduct you may see + How, with this theory, her acts agree; + She proved the truth of what I here advance, + And reaped the fruits produced by complaisance, + A horde of nuns I know who, ev'ry night, + Would such adventures wage with fond delight. + + PERHAPS it will not be with ease believed, + That Constance from Camillus now received, + A proof of LOVE'S enchanting balmy sweet, + A proof perhaps you'll think her used to meet; + But ne'er till then she tasted pleasures pure; + Her former life no blisses could secure. + You ask the cause, and signs of doubt betray: + Who TRULY loves, the same will ever say. + + + + + + + NICAISE + + + TO serve the shop as 'prentice was the lot; + Of one who had the name of Nicaise got; + A lad quite ignorant beyond his trade, + And what arithmetick might lend him aid; + A perfect novice in the wily art, + That in amours is used to win the heart. + Good tradesmen formerly were late to learn + The tricks that soon in friars we discern; + They ne'er were known those lessons to begin, + Till more than down appeared upon the chin. + But now-a-days, in practice, 'tis confessed, + These shopkeepers are knowing as the best. + + OUR lad of ancient date was less advanced; + At scenes of love his eyes had never glanced; + Be that as 'twill, he now was in the way, + And naught but want of wit produced delay: + A belle indeed had on him set her heart + His master's daughter felt LOVE'S poignant smart; + A girl of most engaging mind and mien, + And always steady in her conduct seen. + Sincerity of soul or humour free, + Or whether with her taste it might agree, + A fool 'twas clear presided o'er her soul, + And all her thoughts and actions felt control. + Some bold gallant would p'erhaps inform her plain, + She ever kept wild Folly in her train, + And nothing say to me who tales relate; + But oft on reason such proceedings wait. + If you a goddess love, advance she'll make; + Our belle the same advantages would take. + Her fortune, wit, and charm, attention drew, + And many sparks would anxiously pursue; + How happy he who should her heart obtain, + And Hymen prove he had not sighed in vain! + But she had promised, to the modest youth, + Who first was named, her confidence and truth; + The little god of pleasing soft desire + With full compliance with his whims require. + + THe belle was pleased the 'prentice to prefer: + A handsome lad with truth we may aver, + Quite young, well made, with fascinating eye: + Such charms are ne'er despised we may rely, + But treasures thought, no FAIR will e'er neglect; + Whate'er her senses say, she'll these respect. + For one that LOVE lays hold of by the soul, + A thousand by the eyes receive control. + + THIS sprightly girl with soft endearing ease, + Exerted ev'ry care the lad to please, + To his regards she never shy appeared; + Now pinched his arm, then smiled and often leered; + Her hand across his eyes would sometimes put; + At others try to step upon his foot. + To this he nothing offered in reply, + Though oft his throbbing bosom heaved a sigh. + + So many tender scenes, at length we find, + Produced the explanation LOVE designed; + The youthful couple, we may well believe, + Would from each other mutual vows receive; + They neither promises nor kisses spared, + Incalculable were the numbers shared; + If he had tried to keep exact account, + He soon had been bewildered with th' amount; + To such infinity it clearly ran, + Mistakes would rise if he pursued the plan; + A ceremony solely was required, + Which prudent girls have always much admired, + Yet this to wait gave pain and made her grieve; + From you, said she, the boon I would receive; + Or while I live the rapture never know, + That Hymen at his altar can bestow; + To you I promise, by the pow'rs divine, + My hand and heart I truly will resign. + Howe'er I'll freely say, should Hymen fail + To make me your's and wishes not prevail, + You must not fancy I'll become a nun, + Though much I hope to act as I've begun; + To marry you would please me to the soul; + But how can WE the ruling pow'rs control? + Too much I'm confident you love my fame, + To aim at what might bring me soon to shame: + In wedlock I've been asked by that and this; + My father thinks these offers not amiss; + But, Nicaise, I'll allow you still to hope, + That if with others I'm obliged to cope, + No matter whether counsellor or judge. + Since clearly ev'ry thing to such I grudge, + The marriage eve, or morn, or day, or hour, + To you I'll give--the first enchanting flow'r. + + THE lad most gratefully his thanks returned; + His breast with ev'ry soft emotion burned. + Within a week, to this sweet charmer came, + A rich young squire, who soon declared his flame; + On which she said to Nicaise:--he will do; + This spark will easily let matters through; + And as the belle was confident of that, + She gave consent and listened to his chat. + Soon all was settled and arranged the day, + When marriage they no longer would delay, + You'll fully notice this:--I think I view + The thoughts which move around and you pursue; + 'Twas doubtless clear, whatever bliss in store, + The lady was betrothed, and nothing more. + + THOUGH all was fixed a week before the day, + Yet fearing accidents might things delay, + Or even break the treaty ere complete, + She would not our apprentice fully greet, + Till on the very morn she gave her hand, + Lest chance defeated what was nicely planned. + + HOWE'ER the belle was to the altar led, + A virgin still, and doomed the squire to wed, + Who, quite impatient, consummation sought, + As soon as he the charmer back had brought; + But she solicited the day apart, + And this obtained, alone by prayers and art. + 'Twas early morn, and 'stead of bed she dressed, + In ev'ry thing a queen had thought the best; + With diamonds, pearls, and various jewels rare; + Her husband riches had, she was aware, + Which raised her into rank that dress required, + And all her neighbours envied and admired. + Her lover, to secure the promised bliss, + An hour's indulgence gained to take a kiss. + A bow'r within a garden was the spot, + Which, for their private meeting, they had got. + A confidant had been employed around, + To watch if any one were lurking found. + + THE lady was the first who thither came; + To get a nosegay was, she said, her aim; + And Nicaise presently her steps pursued, + Who, when the turf within the bow'r he viewed, + Exclaimed, oh la! how wet it is my dear! + Your handsome clothes will be spoiled I fear! + A carpet let me instantly provide? + Deuce take the clothes! the fair with anger cried; + Ne'er think of that: I'll say I had a fall; + Such accident a loss I would not call, + When Time so clearly on the wing appears, + 'Tis right to banish scruples, cares, and fears; + Nor think of clothes nor dress, however fine, + But those to dirt or flames at once resign; + Far better this than precious time to waste, + Since frequently in minutes bliss we taste; + A quarter of an hour we now should prize, + The place no doubt will very well suffice; + With you it rests such moments to employ, + And mutually our bosoms fill with joy. + I scarcely ought to say what now I speak, + But anxiously your happiness I seek. + + INDEED, the anxious, tender youth replied, + To save such costly clothes we should decide; + I'll run at once, and presently be here; + Two minutes will suffice I'm very clear. + AWAY the silly lad with ardour flew, + And left no time objections to renew. + His wondrous folly cured the charming dame; + Whose soul so much disdained her recent flame; + That instantly her heart resumed its place, + Which had too long been loaded with disgrace: + Go, prince of fools, she to herself exclaimed, + For ever, of thy conduct, be ashamed; + To lose thee surely I can ne'er regret, + Impossible a worse I could have met. + I've now considered, and 'tis very plain, + Thou merit'st not such favours to obtain; + From hence I swear, by ev'ry thing above; + My husband shall alone possess my love; + And least I might be tempted to betray, + To him I'll instantly the boon convey, + Which Nicaise might have easily received; + Thank Heav'n my breast from folly is relieved. + This said, by disappointment rendered sour, + The beauteous bride in anger left the bow'r. + Soon with the carpet simple Nicaise came, + And found that things no longer were the same. + + THE lucky hour, ye suitors learn I pray, + Is not each time the clock strikes through the day, + In Cupid's alphabet I think I've read, + Old Time, by lovers, likes not to be led; + And since so closely he pursues his plan, + 'Tis right to seize him, often as you can. + Delays are dangerous, in love or war, + And Nicaise is a proof they fortune mar. + + QUITE out of breath with having quickly run; + Delighted too that he so soon had done, + The youth returned most anxious to employ, + The carpet for his mistress to enjoy, + But she alas! with rage upon her brow, + Had left the spot, he knew not why nor how; + And to her company returned in haste + The flame extinguished that her mind disgraced. + Perhaps she went the jewel to bestow, + Upon her spouse, whose breast with joy would glow: + What jewel pray?--The one that ev'ry maid + Pretends to have, whatever tricks she's played. + This I believe; but I'll no dangers run; + To burn my fingers I've not yet begun; + Yet I allow, howe'er, in such a case, + The girl, who fibs, therein no sin can trace. + + OUR belle who, thanks to Nicaise, yet retained; + In spite of self, the flow'r he might have gained, + Was grumbling still, when he the lady met + Why, how is this, cried he, did you forget, + That for this carpet I had gone away? + When spread, how nicely on it we might play! + You'd soon to woman change the silly maid; + Come, let's return, and not the bliss evade; + No fear of dirt nor spoiling of your dress; + And then my love I fully will express. + + NOT so, replied the disappointed dame, + We'll put it off:--perhaps 'twould hurt your frame + Your health I value, and I would advise, + To be at ease, take breath, and prudence prize; + Apprentice in a shop you now are bound + Next 'prentice go to some gallant around; + You'll not so soon his pleasing art require, + Nor to your tutorage can I now aspire. + Friend Nicaise take some neighb'ring servant maid, + You're quite a master in the shopping trade; + Stuffs you can sell, and ask the highest price; + And to advantage turn things in a trice. + But opportunity you can't discern; + To know its value,--prithee go and learn. + + + + + + + THE PROGRESS OF WIT + + + DIVERTING in extreme there is a play, + Which oft resumes its fascinating sway; + Delights the sex, or ugly, fair, or sour; + By night or day:--'tis sweet at any hour. + The frolick, ev'ry where is known to fame; + Conjecture if you can, and tells its name. + + THIS play's chief charm to husbands is unknown; + 'Tis with the lover it excels alone; + No lookers-on, as umpires, are required; + No quarrels rise, though each appears inspired; + All seem delighted with the pleasing game:-- + Conjecture if you can, and tell its name. + + BE this as 'twill, and called whate'er it may; + No longer trifling with it I shall stay, + But now disclose a method to transmit + (As oft we find) to ninnies sense and wit. + Till Alice got instruction in this school, + She was regarded as a silly fool, + Her exercise appeared to spin and sew:-- + Not hers indeed, the hands alone would go; + For sense or wit had in it no concern; + Whate'er the foolish girl had got to learn, + No part therein could ever take the mind; + Her doll, for thought, was just as well designed. + The mother would, a hundred times a day, + Abuse the stupid maid, and to her say + Go wretched lump and try some wit to gain. + + THE girl, quite overcome with shame and pain; + Her neighbours asked to point her out the spot, + Where useful wit by purchase might be got. + The simple question laughter raised around; + At length they told her, that it might be found + With father Bonadventure, who'd a stock, + Which he at times disposed of to his flock. + + AWAY in haste she to the cloister went, + To see the friar she was quite intent, + Though trembling lest she might disturb his ease; + And one of his high character displease. + The girl exclaimed, as on she moved,--Will he + Such presents willingly bestow on me, + Whose age, as yet, has scarcely reached fifteen? + With such can I be worthy to be seen? + Her innocence much added to her charms, + The gentle wily god of soft alarms + Had not a youthful maiden in his book, + That carried more temptation in her look. + + MOST rev'rend sir, said she, by friends I'm told, + That in this convent wit is often sold, + Will you allow me some on trust to take? + My treasure won't afford that much I stake; + I can return if more I should require; + Howe'er, you'll take this pledge I much desire; + On which she tried to give the monk a ring, + That to her finger firmly seemed to cling. + + BUT when the friar saw the girl's design, + He cried, good maid, the pledge we will decline, + And what is wished, provide for you the same; + 'Tis merchandize, and whatsoe'er its fame, + To some 'tis freely giv'n:--to others taught + If not too dear, oft better when 'tis bought. + Come in and boldly follow where I lead; + None round can see: you've nothing here to heed; + They're all at prayers; the porter's at my will; + The very walls, of prudence have their fill. + + SHE entered as the holy monk desired, + And they together to his cell retired. + The friar on the bed this maiden threw; + A kiss would take:--she from him rather drew; + And said.--To give one wit is this the way? + Yes, answered he, and round her 'gan to play: + Upon her bosom then he put his hand + What now, said she, am I to understand? + Is this the way?--Said he, 'tis so decreed; + Then patiently she let the monk proceed, + Who followed up, from point to point, his aim; + And wit, by easy steps, advancing came, + Till its progression with her was complete; + Then Alice laughed, success appeared so sweet. + + A SECOND dose the friar soon bestowed, + And e'en a third, so fast his bounty flowed. + Well, said the monk, pray how d'ye find the play? + The girl replied: wit will not long delay; + 'Twill soon arrive; but then I fear its flight: + I'm half afraid 'twill leave me ere 'tis night. + We'll see, rejoined the priest, that naught you lose; + But other secrets oftentimes we use. + Seek not those the smiling girl replied + With this most perfectly I'm satisfied; + Then be it so, said he, we'll recommence, + Nor longer keep the business in suspense, + But to the utmost length at once advance; + For this fair Alice showed much complaisance: + The secret by the friar was renewed; + Much pleasure in it Bonadventure viewed; + The belle a courtesy dropt, and then retired, + Reflecting on the wit she had acquired; + Reflecting, do you say?--To think inclined? + Yes, even more:--she sought excuse to find, + Not doubting that she should be forced to say, + Some cause for keeping her so long away. + + TWO days had passed, when came a youthful friend; + Fair Nancy with her often would unbend; + Howe'er, so very thoughtful Alice seemed, + That Nancy (who was penetrating deemed) + Was well convinced whatever Alice sought, + So very absent she was not for naught. + In questioning she managed with such art, + That soon she learned--what Alice could impart + To listen she was thoroughly disposed, + While t'other ev'ry circumstance disclosed, + From first to last, each point and mystick hit, + And e'en the largeness of the friar's wit, + The repetitions, and the wondrous skill + With which he managed ev'ry thing at will. + + BUT now, cried Alice, favour me I pray, + And tell at once, without reserve, the way + That you obtained such wit as you possess, + And all particulars to me confess. + + IF I, said Nancy, must avow the truth, + Your brother Alan was the bounteous youth, + Who me obliged therewith, and freely taught, + What from the holy friar you'd have bought. + My brother Alan!--Alan! Alice cried; + He ne'er with any was himself supplied; + I'm all surprise; he's thought a heavy clot, + How could he give what he had never got? + + FOOL! said the other, little thou can'st know; + For once, to me some information owe; + In such a case much skill is not required, + And Alan freely gave what I desired. + If me thou disbeliev'st, thy mother ask; + She thoroughly can undertake the task. + + ON such a point we readily should say, + Long live the fools who wit so well display! + + + + + + + THE SICK ABBESS + + + EXAMPLE often proves of sov'reign use; + At other times it cherishes abuse; + 'Tis not my purpose, howsoe'er, to tell + Which of the two I fancy to excel. + Some will conceive the Abbess acted right, + While others think her conduct very light + Be that as 'twill, her actions right or wrong, + I'll freely give a license to my tongue, + Or pen, at all events, and clearly show, + By what some nuns were led to undergo, + That flocks are equally of flesh and blood, + And, if one passes, hundreds stem the flood, + To follow up the course the first has run, + And imitate what t'other has begun. + When Agnes passed, another sister came, + And ev'ry nun desired to do the same; + At length the guardian of the flock appeared, + And likewise passed, though much at first she feared. + The tale is this, we purpose to relate; + And full particulars we now will state. + + AN Abbess once a certain illness had, + Chlorosis named, which oft proves very bad, + Destroys the rose that decorates the cheek, + And renders females languid, pale, and weak. + Our lady's face was like a saint's in Lent: + Quite wan, though otherwise it marked content. + The faculty, consulted on her case, + And who the dire disorder's source would trace, + At length pronounced slow fever must succeed, + And death inevitably be decreed, + Unless;--but this unless is very strange + Unless indeed she some way could arrange; + To gratify her wish, which seemed to vex, + And converse be allowed with t'other sex: + Hippocrates, howe'er, more plainly speaks, + No circumlocutory phrase he seeks. + + O JESUS! quite abashed the Abbess cried; + What is it?--fy!--a man would you provide? + Yes, they rejoined, 'tis clearly what you want, + And you will die without a brisk gallant; + One truly able will alone suffice; + And, if not such, take two we would advise. + This still was worse, though, if we rightly guess, + 'Twas by her wished, durst she the truth confess. + But how the sisterhood would see her take + Such remedies and no objection make? + Shame often causes injury and pain; + And ills concealed bring others in their train. + + SAID sister Agnes, Madam, take their word; + A remedy like this would be absurd, + If, like old death, it had a haggard look, + And you designed to get by hook or crook. + A hundred secrets you retain at ease; + Can one so greatly shock and you displease?-- + You talk at random, Agnes, she replied; + Now, would you for the remedy decide, + Upon your word, if you were in my place?-- + Yes, madam, said the nun, and think it grace; + Still more I'd do, if necessary thought; + Your health, by me, would ev'ry way be sought, + And, if required by you to suffer this, + Not one around would less appear remiss; + Sincere affection for you I have shown, + And my regard I'll ever proudly own. + + A THOUSAND thanks the Abbess gave her friend; + The doctors said:--no use for them to send; + Throughout the convent sad distress appeared; + When Agnes, who to sage advice adhered, + And was not thought the weakest head around, + A kinder soul perhaps could not be found, + Said to the sisterhood,--What now retains + Our worthy Abbess, and her will enchains, + Is nothing but the shame of pow'rs divine, + Or else, to what's prescribed she would resign. + Through charity will no one take the lead, + And, by example, get her to proceed? + + THE counsel was by ev'ry one approved, + And commendation through the circle moved. + + IN this design not one, nor grave, nor old, + Nor young, nor prioress, at all seemed cold; + Notes flew around, and friends of worth and taste, + The black, the fair, the brown, appeared in haste; + The number was not small, our records say, + Not (what might be) appearance of delay, + But all most anxious seemed the road to show, + And what the Abbess feared, at once to know; + None more sincerely 'mong the nuns desired, + That shame should not prevent what was required. + Nor that the Abbess should, within her soul, + Retain what might injuriously control. + + NO sooner one among the flock had made + The step, of which the Abbess was afraid, + But other sisters followed in the train:-- + Not one behind consented to remain; + Each forward pressed, in dread to be the last; + At length, from prejudice the Abbess passed; + To such examples she at last gave way, + And, to a youth, no longer offered nay. + + THE operation o'er, her lily face + Resumed the rose, and ev'ry other grace. + O remedy divine, prescription blessed! + Thy friendly aid to numbers stands confessed; + The friends of thousands, friend of nature too; + The friend of all, except where honour 's due. + This point of honour is another ill, + In which the faculty confess no skill. + + WHAT ills in life! what mis'ries dire around, + While remedies so easy may be found! + + + + + + + THE TRUCKERS + + + THE change of food enjoyment is to man; + In this, t'include the woman is my plan. + I cannot guess why Rome will not allow + Exchange in wedlock, and its leave avow; + Not ev'ry time such wishes might arise, + But, once in life at least, 'twere not unwise; + Perhaps one day we may the boon obtain; + Amen, I say: my sentiments are plain; + The privilege in France may yet arrive + There trucking pleases, and exchanges thrive; + The people love variety, we find; + And such by heav'n was ere for them designed. + + ONCE there dwelled, near Rouen, (sapient clime) + Two villagers, whose wives were in their prime, + And rather pleasing in their shape and mien, + For those in whom refinement 's scarcely seen. + Each looker-on conceives, LOVE needs not greet + Such humble wights, as he would prelates treat. + + IT happened, howsoe'er, both weary grown, + Of halves that they so long had called their own; + One holyday, with them there chanced to drink + The village lawyer (bred in Satan's sink); + To him, said one of these, with jeering air, + Good mister Oudinet, a strange affair + Is in my head: you've doubtless often made + Variety of contracts; 'tis your trade: + Now, cannot you contrive, by one of these, + That men should barter wives, like goods, at ease? + Our pastor oft his benefice has changed; + Is trucking wives less easily arranged? + It cannot be, for well I recollect, + That Parson Gregory (whom none suspect) + Would always say, or much my mem'ry fails, + My flock 's my wife: love equally prevails; + He changed; let us, good neighbour do the same; + With all my heart, said t'other, that's my aim; + But well thou know'st that mine's the fairest face, + And, Mister Oudinet, since that's the case, + Should he not add, at least, his mule to boot? + My mule? rejoined the first, that will not suit; + In this world ev'ry thing has got its price: + Mine I will change for thine and that 's concise. + Wives are not viewed so near; naught will I add; + Why, neighbour Stephen, dost thou think me mad, + To give my mule to boot?--of mules the king; + Not e'en an ass I'd to the bargain bring; + Change wife for wife, the barter will be fair; + Then each will act with t'other on the square. + + THE village lawyer now the friends addressed: + Said he, Antoinetta is confessed + To have superior charms to those of Jane; + But still, if I may venture to be plain, + Not always is the best what meets the eye, + For many beauties in concealment lie, + Which I prefer; and these are hid with care; + Deceptions, too, are practised by the FAIR; + Howe'er, we wish the whole to be disclosed, + Too much, 'tis said, they must not be exposed. + + NOW, neighbours, let us fair arrangement make: + A pig in poke you'd neither give nor take; + Confront these halves in nature's birth-day suit; + To neither, then, will you deceit impute. + The project was most thoroughly approved; + Like inclination both the husbands moved. + + ANTOINETTA, said the second spouse, + Has neither ill nor scratch her fears to rouse. + Jane, cried the first, is ev'ry way complete; + No freckles on the skin: as balm she's sweet: + Antoinetta is, her spouse replied, + Ambrosia ev'ry way: no fault to hide. + + SAID t'other:--Don't so confident appear; + Thou know'st not Jane: her ways would marble cheer; + And there's a play:--thou understand'st no doubt? + To this rejoined the second village lout, + One diff'rence only have my wife and I: + Which plays the prettiest wiles is what we try; + Thou'lt very soon of these know how to think; + Here's to thee, neighbour; Mister Oud'net, drink; + Come, toast Antoinetta; likewise Jane; + The mule was granted, and the bargain plain: + Our village lawyer promised to prepare, + At once, the writings, which would all declare. + This Oudinet a good apostle proved + Well paid for parchment, or he never moved: + By whom was payment made?--by both the dames; + On neither husband showed he any claims. + + THE village clowns some little time supposed + That all was secret: not a hint disclosed; + The parson of it, howsoe'er, obtained + Some intimation, and his off'rings gained. + I was not present, fully I admit; + But rarely clergymen their dues will quit. + The very clerk would not remit his fee:-- + All those who serve the church in this agree. + + THE permutation could not well be made, + But scandal would such practices upbraid; + In country villages each step is seen; + Thus, round the whisper went of what had been, + And placed at length the thorn where all was ease; + The pow'rs divine alone it could displease. + 'Twas pleasant them together to behold; + The wives, in emulation, were not cold; + In easy talk they'd to each other say: + How pleasing to exchange from day to day! + What think you, neighbour, if, to try our luck, + For once we've something new, and valets truck? + This last, if made, the secret had respect; + The other had at first a good effect. + + FOR one good month the whole proceeded well; + But, at the end, disgust dispersed the spell; + And neighbour Stephen, as we might suppose, + Began dissatisfaction to disclose; + Lamented much Antoinetta's stop; + No doubt he was a loser by the swop; + Yet neighbour Giles expressed extreme regret, + That t'other from him ought to boot should get: + Howe'er, he would retrucking not consent, + So much he otherwise appeared content. + + IT happened on a day, as Stephen strayed + Within a wood, he saw, beneath a shade, + And near the stream, asleep, and quite alone, + Antoinetta, whom he wished his own. + He near her drew, and waked her with surprise; + The change ne'er struck her when she ope'd her eyes; + The gay gallant advantage quickly took, + And, what he wished, soon placed within his hook. + 'Tis said, he found her better than at first; + Why so? you ask: was she then at the worst? + A curious question, truly, you've designed; + In Cupid's am'rous code of laws you'll find-- + Bread got by stealth, and eat where none can spy, + Is better far than what you bake or buy; + For proof of this, ask those most learn'd in love + Truth we prefer, all other things above; + Yet Hymen, and the god of soft desire, + How much soe'er their union we admire, + Are not designed together bread to bake; + In proof, the sleeping scene for instance take. + Good cheer was there: each dish was served with taste; + The god of love, who often cooks in haste, + Most nicely seasoned things to relish well; + In this he's thought old Hymen to excel. + + ANTOINETTA, to his clasp restored, + Our neighbour Stephen, who his wife adored, + Quite raw, howe'er, in this, exclaimed apart + Friend Giles has surely got some secret art, + For now my rib displays superior charms, + To what she had, before she left my arms. + Let's take her back, and play the Norman trick + Deny the whole, and by our priv'lege stick. + + IMMEDIATELY he ev'ry effort tried, + To get the bargain fully set aside. + Giles, much distressed, exerted all his might, + To keep his prize, and prove his conduct right. + The cause was carried to the bishop's court; + Much noise it made, according to report. + At length the parliament would hear the claim, + And judge a case of such peculiar fame. + + THE village lawyer, Oudinet, was brought; + From him, who drew the contract, truth was sought; + There rests the cause, for 'tis of recent date; + While undecided, more we cannot state. + + HOW silly neighbour Stephen must appear! + He went against his int'rest now 'tis clear; + For, when superior pleasure he was shown, + The fascinating fair was not his own. + Good sense would whisper then, 'twere full as well, + To let remain with Giles the beauteous belle; + Save now and then, within the leafy shade, + Where oft Antoinetta visits made, + And warbled to the shrubs and trees around; + There he might easily the nymph have found, + But, if with ease it could not be obtained, + Still greater pleasure he would then have gained. + + GO preach me this to silly country louts; + These, howsoe'er, had managed well their bouts, + It must not be denied, and all was nice; + To do the like perhaps 'twill some entice. + I much regret my lot was not the same, + Though doubtless many will my wishes blame. + + + + + + + THE CASE OF CONSCIENCE + + + THOSE who in fables deal, bestow at ease + Both names and titles, freely as they please. + It costs them scarcely any thing, we find. + And each is nymph or shepherdess designed; + Some e'en are goddesses, that move below, + From whom celestial bliss of course must flow. + + THIS Horace followed, with superior art:-- + If, to the trav'ller's bed, with throbbing heart, + The chambermaid approached, 'twas Ilia found, + Or fair Egeria, or some nymph renowned. + + GOD, in his goodness, made, one lovely day, + Apollo, who directs the lyrick lay, + And gave him pow'rs to call and name at will, + Like father Adam, with primordial skill. + Said he, go, names bestow that please the ear; + In ev'ry word let sweetest sound appear. + This ancient law then proves, by right divine, + WE oft are sponsors to the royal line. + + WHEN pleasing tales and fables I endite, + I, who in humble verse presume to write, + May surely use this privilege of old, + And, to my fancy, appellations mould. + If I, instead of Anne, should Sylvia say, + And Master Thomas (when the case I weigh) + Should change to Adamas, the druid sage, + Must I a fine or punishment engage? + No, surely not:--at present I shall choose + Anne and the Parson for my tale to use. + + WITHIN her village, Anne was thought the belle, + And ev'ry other charmer to excel. + As near a river once she chanced to stray, + She saw a youth in Nature's pure array, + Who bathed at ease within the gliding stream; + The girl was brisk, and worthy of esteem, + Her eyes were pleased; the object gave delight; + Not one defect could be produced in sight; + Already, by the shepherdess adored, + If with the belle to pleasing flights he'd soared, + The god of love had all they wished concealed + None better know what should not be revealed. + Anne nothing feared: the willows were her shade, + Which, like Venetian blinds, a cov'ring made; + Her eyes, howe'er, across had easy view, + And, o'er the youth, each beauty could pursue. + + SHE back four paces drew, at first, through shame; + Then, led by LOVE, eight others forward came; + But scruples still arose that ardour foiled, + And nearly ey'ry thing had truly spoiled. + Anne had a conscience pure as holy fire; + But how could she abstain from soft desire? + If, in the bosom chance a flame should raise, + Is there a pow'r can then subdue the blaze? + At first these inclinations she withstood; + But doubting soon, how those of flesh and blood + Could sins commit by stepping in advance, + She took her seat upon the green expanse, + And there attentively the lad observed, + With eyes that scarcely from him ever swerved. + + PERHAPS you've seen, from Nature, drawings made? + Some Eve, or Adam, artists then persuade, + In birth-attire to stand within their view, + While they with care and taste each trait pursue; + And, like our shepherdess, their stations take, + A perfect semblance ev'ry way to make. + + ANNE in her mem'ry now his image placed; + Each line and feature thoroughly she traced, + And even now the fair would there remain, + If William (so was called this youthful swain) + Had not the water left; when she retired, + Though scarcely twenty steps from him admired, + Who, more alert than usual then appeared, + And, by the belle, in silence was revered. + + WHEN such sensations once were in the breast, + Love there we may believe would hardly rest. + + THE favours Anne reserved he thought his own, + Though expectations oft away have flown. + The more of this I think, the less I know; + Perhaps one half our bliss to chance we owe! + + BE this as 'twill, the conscientious Anne + Would nothing venture to regale her man; + Howe'er, she stated what had raised her fear, + And ev'ry thing that made her persevere. + + WHEN Easter came, new difficulties rose + Then, in confession, ALL she should disclose. + Anne, passing peccadillos in review, + This case aside, as an intruder threw; + But parson Thomas made her all relate; + And ev'ry circumstance most clearly state; + That he, by knowing fully each defect, + Might punishment accordingly direct, + In which no father-confessor should err, + Who absolution justly would confer. + The parson much his penitent abused; + Said he, with sensual views to be amused, + Is such a sin, 'tis scarcely worse to steal; + The sight is just the same as if you feel. + + HOWE'ER, the punishment that he imposed + Was nothing great:--too slight to be disclosed; + Enough to say, that in the country round, + The father-confessors, who there abound, + As in our own, (perhaps in ev'ry part,) + Have devotees, who, when they ought to smart, + A tribute pay, according to their lot, + And thus indulgences are often got. + + THIS tribute to discharge the current year, + Much troubled Anne, and filled her breast with fear, + When William, fishing, chanced a pike to hook, + And gave it to his dear at once to cook, + Who, quite delighted, hastened to the priest, + And begged his rev'rence on the fish to feast. + The parson with the present much was pleased; + A tap upon the shoulder care appeased; + And with a smile he to the bringer said + This fish, with trifles on the table spread, + Will all complete; 'twas holyday we find, + When other clergy with our rector dined. + Will you still more oblige, the parson cried, + And let the fish at home by you be fried? + Then bring it here:--my servant's very new, + And can't attempt to cook as well as you. + Anne hastened back; meanwhile the priests arrived, + Much noise, and rout of course, once these were hived; + Wines from the vault were brought without delay; + Each of the quality would something say. + + THE dinner served; the dean at table placed; + Their conversation various points embraced; + To state the whole would clearly endless be; + In this no doubt the reader will agree. + They changed and changed, and healths went round and round; + No time for scandal while such cheer was found; + The first and second course away were cleared, + Dessert served up, yet still no pike appeared. + The dinner o'er without th' expected dish, + Or even a shadow of the promised fish. + When William learned the present Anne had made, + His wish, to have it cancelled, with her weighed. + The rector was surprised, you may suppose, + And, soon as from the table all arose, + He went to Anne, and called her fool and knave, + And, in his wrath, could scarcely secrets wave, + But nearly her reproached the bathing scene; + What, treat, said he, your priest like base and mean? + + ANNE archly answered, with expression neat:-- + The sight is just the same as if you eat! + + + + + + + THE DEVIL OF POPE-FIG ISLAND + + + BY master Francis clearly 'tis expressed: + The folks of Papimania are blessed; + True sleep for them alone it seems was made + With US the copy only has been laid; + And by Saint John, if Heav'n my life will spare, + I'll see this place where sleeping 's free from care. + E'en better still I find, for naught they do: + 'Tis that employment always I pursue. + Just add thereto a little honest love, + And I shall be as easy as a glove. + + ON t'other hand an island may be seen, + Where all are hated, cursed, and full of spleen. + We know them by the thinness of their face + Long sleep is quite excluded from their race. + + SHOULD you, good reader, any person meet, + With rosy, smiling looks, and cheeks replete, + The form not clumsy, you may safely say, + A Papimanian doubtless I survey. + But if, on t'other side, you chance to view, + A meagre figure, void of blooming hue, + With stupid, heavy eye, and gloomy mien + Conclude at once a Pope-figir, you've seen. + + POPE-FIG 'S the name upon an isle bestowed, + Where once a fig the silly people showed, + As like the pope, and due devotion paid:-- + By folly, blocks have often gods been made! + These islanders were punished for their crime; + Naught prospers, Francis tells us, in their clime; + To Lucifer was giv'n the hateful spot, + And there his country house he now has got. + His underlings appear throughout the isle, + Rude, wretched, poor, mean, sordid, base, and vile; + With tales, and horns, and claws, if we believe, + What many say who ought not to deceive. + + ONE day it happened that a cunning clown + Was by an imp observed, without the town, + To turn the earth, which seemed to be accurst, + Since ev'ry trench was painful as the first. + This youthful devil was a titled lord; + In manners simple:--naught to be abhorred; + He might, so ignorant, be duped at ease; + As yet he'd scarcely ventured to displease: + Said he, I'd have thee know, I was not born, + Like clods to labour, dig nor sow the corn; + A devil thou in me beholdest here, + Of noble race: to toil I ne'er appear. + + THOU know'st full well, these fields to us belong: + The islanders, it seems, had acted wrong; + And, for their crimes, the pope withdrew his cares; + Our subjects now you live, the law declares; + And therefore, fellow, I've undoubted right, + To take the produce of this field, at sight; + But I am kind, and clearly will decide + The year concluded, we'll the fruits divided. + What crop, pray tell me, dost thou mean to sow? + The clod replied, my lord, what best will grow + I think is Tousell; grain of hardy fame; + The imp rejoined, I never heard its name; + What is it. Tousell, say'st thou?--I agree, + If good return, 'twill be the same to me; + Work fellow, work; make haste, the ground prepare; + To dig and delve should be the rabble's care; + Don't think that I will ever lend a hand, + Or give the slightest aid to till the land; + I've told thee I'm a gentleman by birth, + Designed for ease: not doomed to turn the earth. + Howe'er I'll now the diff'rent parts allot, + And thus divide the produce of the plot:-- + What shall above the heritage arise, + I'll leave to thee; 'twill very well suffice; + But what is in the soil shall be my share; + To this attend, see ev'ry thing is fair. + + THIS beardless corn when ripe, with joy was reaped, + And then the stubble by the roots was heaped, + To satisfy the lordly devil's claim, + Who thought the seed and root were just the same, + And that the ear and stalk were useless parts, + Which nothing made if carried to the marts: + The labourer his produce housed with care; + The other to the market brought his ware, + Where ridicule and laughter he received; + 'Twas nothing worth, which much his bosom grieved. + + QUITE mortified, the devil quickly went; + To seek our clod, and mark his discontent: + The fellow had discreetly sold the corn, + In straw, unthrashed, and off the money borne, + Which he, with ev'ry wily care, concealed; + The imp was duped, and nothing was revealed. + Said he, thou rascal?--pretty tricks thou'st played; + It seems that cheating is thy daily trade; + But I'm a noble devil of the court, + Who tricking never knew, save by report. + What grain dost mean to sow th' ensuing year? + The labourer replied, I think it clear, + Instead of grain, 'twill better be to chop, + And take a carrot, or a turnip crop; + You then, my lord, will surely plenty find; + And radishes, if you are so inclined. + + THESE carrots, radishes, and turnips too, + Said t'other, I am led to think will do; + My part shall be what 'bove the soil is found: + Thine, fellow, what remains within the ground; + No war with thee I'll have, unless constrained, + And thou hast never yet of me complained. + I now shall go and try to tempt a nun, + For I'm disposed to have a little fun. + + THE time arrived again to house the store; + The labourer collected as before; + Leaves solely to his lordship were assigned, + Who sought for those a ready sale to find, + But through the market ridicule was heard, + And ev'ry one around his jest preferred:-- + Pray, Mister Devil, where d'ye grow these greens? + How treasure up returns from your demesnes? + + ENRAGED at what was said, he hurried back, + And, on the clown, proposed to make attack, + Who, full of joy, was laughing with his wife, + And tasting pleasantly the sweets of life. + By all the pow'rs of Hell, the demon cried, + He shall the forfeit pay, I now decide; + A pretty rascal truly, master Phil: + Here, pleasures you expect at will, + Well, well, proceed; gallant it while allowed; + For present I'll remit what I had vowed; + A charming lady I'm engaged to meet; + She's sometimes willing: then again discreet; + But soon as I, in cuckold's row, have placed + Her ninny husband, I'll return in haste, + And then so thoroughly I'll trim you o'er, + Such wily tricks you'll never practise more; + We'll see who best can use his claws and nails, + And from the fields obtain the richest sales. + Corn, carrots, radishes, or what you will:-- + Crop as you like, and show your utmost skill + No stratagems howe'er with culture blend; + I'll take my portion from the better end; + Within a week, remember, I'll be here, + And recollect:--you've every thing to fear. + + AMAZED at what the lordly devil said, + The clod could naught reply, so great his dread; + But at the gasconade Perretta smiled, + Who kept his house and weary hours beguiled, + A sprightly clever lass, with prying eye, + Who, when a shepherdess, could more descry, + Than sheep or lambs she watched upon the plain, + If other views or points she sought to gain. + Said she, weep not, I'll undertake at ease, + To gull this novice-devil as I please; + He's young and ignorant; has nothing seen; + Thee; from his rage, I thoroughly will skreen; + My little finger, if I like can show + More malice than his head and body know. + + THE day arrived, our labourer, not brave, + Concealed himself, but not in vault nor cave; + He plunged within a vase extremely large, + Where holy-water always was in charge; + No demon would have thought to find him there, + So well the clod had chosen his repair; + In sacred stoles he muffled up his skin, + And, 'bove the water, only kept his chin; + There we will leave him, while the priests profound + Repeated Vade retro round and round. + + PERRETTA at the house remained to greet + The lordly devil whom she hoped to cheat. + He soon appeared; when with dishevelled hair, + And flowing tears, as if o'erwhelmed with care, + She sallied forth, and bitterly complained, + How oft by Phil she had been scratched and caned; + Said she, the wretch has used me very ill; + Of cruelty he has obtained his fill; + For God's sake try, my lord, to get away: + Just now I heard the savage fellow say, + He'd with his claws your lordship tear and slash: + See, only see, my lord, he made this gash; + On which she showed:--what you will guess, no doubt, + And put the demon presently to rout, + Who crossed himself and trembled with affright: + He'd never seen nor heard of such a sight, + Where scratch from claws or nails had so appeared; + His fears prevailed, and off he quickly steered; + Perretta left, who, by her friends around, + Was complimented on her sense profound, + That could so well the demon's snares defeat; + The clergy too pronounced her plan discrete. + + + + + + + FERONDE + + + IN Eastern climes, by means considered new; + The Mount's old-man, with terrors would pursue; + His large domains howe'er were not the cause, + Nor heaps of gold, that gave him such applause, + But manners strange his subjects to persuade; + In ev'ry wish, to serve him they were made. + Among his people boldest hearts he chose, + And to their view would Paradise disclose + Its blissful pleasures:--ev'ry soft delight, + Designed to gratify the sense and sight. + So plausible this prophet's tale appeared, + Each word he dropt was thoroughly revered. + Whence this delusion?--DRINK deranged the mind; + And, reason drowned, to madness they resigned. + Thus void of knowing clearly what they did, + They soon were brought to act as they were bid; + Conveyed to places, charming to the eye, + Enchanting gardens 'neath an azure sky, + With twining shrubs, meandring walks, and flow'rs, + And num'rous grottos, porticoes and bow'rs. + When they chanced to pass where all was gay, + From wine's inebriating pow'rful sway, + They wondered at the frolicking around, + And fancied they were got on fairy ground, + Which Mahomet pretended was assigned, + For those to his doctrine were inclined. + To tempt the men and girls to seek the scene, + And skip and play and dance upon the green, + To murm'ring streams, meandering along, + And lutes' soft notes and nightingales' sweet song: + No earthly pleasure but might there be viewed, + The best of wines and choicest fruits accrued, + To render sense bewildered at the sight, + And sink inebriated with delight. + + THEN back they bore them motionless to sleep, + And wake with wishes further joys to reap. + From these enjoyments many fully thought, + To such enchanting scenes they should be brought, + In future times, eternal bliss to taste, + If death and danger valiantly they faced, + And tried the prophet Mahomet to please, + And ev'ry point to serve their prince would seize. + + THE Mount's old man, by means like these, could say; + He'd men devoted to support his sway; + Upon the globe no empire more was feared, + Or king or potentate like him revered. + These circumstances I've minutely told, + To show, our tale was known in days of old. + + FERONDE, a rich, but awkward, vulgar clown, + A ninny was believed throughout the town; + He had the charge of revenues not slight, + Which he collected for a friar white. + Of these I've known as good as any black, + When husbands some assistance seemed to lack, + And had so much to do, they monks might need; + Or other friends, their work at home to speed. + This friar for to-morrow never thought, + But squandered ev'ry thing as soon as brought; + No saint-apostle less of wealth retained; + Good cheer o'er ev'ry wish triumphant reigned, + Save now and then to have a little fun, + (Unknown to others) with a pretty nun. + + FERONDE had got a spouse of pleasing sight, + Related nearly to our friar white, + Whose predecessor, uncle, sponsor kind, + Now gone to realms of night, had her consigned, + To be this silly blockhead's lawful wife, + Who thought her hand the honour of his life. + 'Tis said that bastard-daughters oft retain + A disposition to the parent-train; + And this, the saying, truly ne'er bellied, + Nor was her spouse so weak but he descried, + Things clearer than was requisite believed, + And doubted much if he were not deceived. + + THE wife would often to the prelate go, + Pretending business, proper he should know; + A thousand circumstances she could find; + 'Twas then accounts: now sev'ral things combined; + In short no day nor hour within the week, + But something at the friar's she would seek. + The holy father then was always prone, + To send the servants off and be alone. + Howe'er the husband, doubting tricks were played; + Got troublesome; his wife would much upbraid + When she returned, and often beat her too; + In short,--he unaccommodating grew. + + THE rural mind by nature jealous proves; + Suspicion shows of ev'ry thing that moves; + Unused to city ways, perverse appears, + And, undismayed, to principle adheres: + + THE friar found his situation hard; + He loved his ease?--all trouble would discard; + As priests in gen'ral anxiously desire; + Their plan howe'er I never can admire, + And should not choose at once to take the town, + But by the escalade obtain the crown; + In LOVE I mean; to WAR I don't allude: + No silly bragging I would here intrude, + Nor be enrolled among the martial train: + 'Tis Venus' court that I should like to gain. + Let t'other custom be the better way: + It matters not; no longer I'll delay, + But to my tale return, and fully state, + How our receiver, who misused his mate; + Was put in purgatory to be cured, + And, for a time, most thoroughly immured. + + BY means of opiate powders, much renowned, + The friar plunged him in a sleep profound. + Thought dead; the fun'ral obsequies achieved, + He was surprised, and doubtless sorely grieved, + When he awoke and saw where he was placed, + With folks around, not much to suit his taste; + For in the coffin he at large was left, + And of the pow'r to move was not bereft, + But might arise and walk about the tomb, + Which opened to another vaulted room, + The gloomy, hollow mansion of the dead: + Fear quickly o'er his drooping spirits spread. + What's here? cried he: is't sleep, or is it death; + Some charm or spell perhaps withdraws their breath. + Our wight then asked their names and business there; + And why he was retained in such a snare? + In what had he offended God or man?-- + + Said one, console thyself:--past moments scan; + When thou hast rested here a thousand years, + Thou'lt then ascend amid the Heav'nly spheres; + But first in holy purgatory learn, + To cleanse thyself from sins that we discern; + One day thy soul shall leave this loathsome place, + And, pure as ice, repair to realms of grace. + Then this consoling Angel gave a thwack, + And ten or dozen stripes laid on his back:-- + 'Tis thy unruly, jealous mind, said he, + Displeases God, and dooms thee here to be. + + A MOURNFUL sigh the lorn receiver heaved, + His aching shoulders rubbed, and sobbed and grieved; + A thousand years, cried he, 'tis long indeed! + My very soul with horror seems to bleed. + + WE should observe, this Angel was a wag, + A novice-friar and a convent fag; + Like him the others round had parts to act, + And were disguised in dresses quite exact. + Our penitent most humbly pardon sought; + Said he, if e'er to life again I'm brought, + No jealousy, suspicion's hateful bane, + Shall ever enter my distracted brain. + May I not have this grace, this wished for boon? + Some hopes they gave, but it could not be soon; + In short a year he lay upon the floor: + Just food for life received, and nothing more, + Each day on bread and water he was fed, + And o'er his back the cat-o'nine-tails spread: + Full twenty lashes were the number set, + Unless the friar should from Heav'n first get + Permission to remit at times a part, + For charity was glowing in his heart. + + WE, must not doubt, he often offered prayers, + To ease the culprit's sufferings and cares. + The Angel likewise made a long discourse; + Said he, those vile suspicions were the source, + Of all thy sorrow, wretchedness, and pain: + Think'st thou such thoughts the clergy entertain? + A friar white!--too bad in ev'ry sense: + Ten strokes to one, if black, for such offence. + Repent, I say:--the other this desired, + Though scarcely he could tell what was required. + + MEANWHILE the prelate with the fav'rite dame, + No time to lose, made ev'ry hour the same. + The husband, with a sigh, was heard to say: + I wonder what my wife's about to-day? + About?--whate'er it be 'tis doubtless right; + Our friar, to console her, takes delight; + Thy business too is managed as before, + And anxious care bestowed upon thy store. + + HAS she as usual matters that demand + Attendance at the cloister to be scanned?-- + No doubt was the reply, for having now + The whole affair upon her feeble brow, + Poor woman! be her wishes what they will, + She more assistance wants thy loss to fill. + + DISCOURSE like this no pleasure gave the soul: + To call him so seems best upon the whole, + Since he'd not pow'r like others here to feed:-- + Mere earthly shadow for a time decreed. + + A MONTH was passed in fasting, pains, and prayer; + Some charity the friar made him share, + And now and then remission would direct; + The widow too he never would neglect, + But, all the consolation in his pow'r, + Bestowed upon her ev'ry leisure hour, + His tender cares unfruitful were not long; + Beyond his hopes the soil proved good and strong; + In short our Pater Abbas justly feared, + To make him father many signs appeared. + + SINCE 'twere improper such a fact were known; + When proofs perhaps too clearly might be shown, + So many prayers were said and vigils kept, + At length the soul from purgatory crept, + So much reduced, and ev'ry way so thin + But little more he seemed than bones and skin. + + A THING so strange filled numbers with surprise, + Who scarcely would believe their ears and eyes. + The friar passed for saint:--Feronde his fruit; + None durst presume to doubt nor to dispute; + A double miracle at once appeared + The dead's return: the lady's state revered. + With treble force Te Deum round was sung; + Sterility in marriage oft was rung, + And near the convent many offered prayers, + In hopes their fervent vows would gain them heirs. + + THE humble spouse and wife we now shall leave + Let none, howe'er, suppose that we conceive, + Each husband merits, as our soul, the same, + To cure the jealous fears his breast inflame. + + + + + + + THE PSALTER + + + ONCE more permit me, nuns, and this the last; + I can't resist, whatever may have passed, + But must relate, what often I've been told; + Your tales of convent pranks are seldom cold; + They have a grace that no where else we find, + And, somehow, better seem to please designed. + Another then we'll have, which three will make:-- + Three did I say?-'tis four, or I mistake; + Let's count them well:-The GARD'NER first, we'll name; + Then comes the ABBESS, whose declining frame + Required a youth, her malady to cure + A story thought, perhaps, not over pure; + And, as to SISTER JANE, who'd got a brat, + I cannot fancy we should alter that. + These are the whole, and four's a number round; + You'll probably remark, 'tis strange I've found + Such pleasure in detailing convent scenes:-- + 'Tis not my whim, but TASTE, that thither leans: + And, if you'd kept your breviary in view, + 'Tis clear, you'd nothing had with this to do; + We know, howe'er, 'tis not your fondest care; + So, quickly to our hist'ry let's repair. + + A CHARMING youth would frequent visits pay, + To nuns, whose convent near his dwelling lay; + And, 'mong the sisters, one his person saw, + Who, by her eyes, would fain attention draw; + Smiles she bestowed, and other complaisance, + But not a single step would he advance; + By old and young he greatly was admired; + Sighs burst around, but none his bosom fired. + Fair Isabella solely got his love, + A beauteous nun, and gentle as a dove, + Till then a novice in the flow'ry chain, + And envied doubly:--for her charms and swain. + Their soft amours were watched with eagle-eye: + No pleasure's free from care you may rely; + In life each comfort coupled is with ill, + And this to alter baffles all our skill. + + THE sister nuns so vigilant had been, + One night when darkness overspread the scene; + And all was proper mysteries to hide, + Some words escaped her cell that doubts supplied, + And other matters too were heard around, + That in her breviary could not be found. + 'Tis her gallant! said they: he's clearly caught; + Alarm pervaded; swarms were quickly brought; + Rage seemed to triumph; sentinels were placed; + The abbess too must know they were disgraced. + Away they hastened to convey surprise, + And, thund'ring at her door, cried, madam rise, + For sister Isabella, in her cell, + Has got a man, which surely can't be well. + + YOU will observe, the dame was not at prayer, + Nor yet absorbed in sleep, devoid of care, + But with her then, this abbess had in bed + Good parson John, by kindness thither led, + A neighb'ring rector, confessor, and friend; + She rose in haste the sisters to attend, + And, seeking for her veil, with sense confused, + The parson's breeches took for what she used, + Which, in the dark, resembled what was worn + By nuns for veils, and called (perhaps in scorn), + Among themselves, their PSALTER, to express + Familiarly, a common, awkward dress. + + WITH this new ornament, by way of veil, + She sallied forth and heard the woeful tale. + Then, irritated, she exclaimed with ire + To see this wretched creature I desire, + The devil's daughter, from her bold career, + Who'll bring our convent to disgrace, I fear; + But God forbid, I say, and with his leave, + We'll all restore:--rebuke she shall receive. + A chapter we will call:--the sisters came, + And stood around to hear their pious dame. + + FAIR Isabella now the abbess sent, + Who straight obeyed, and to her tears gave vent, + Which overspread those lily cheeks and eyes, + A roguish youth so lately held his prize. + What! said the abbess: pretty scandal here, + When in the house of God such things appear; + Ashamed to death you ought to be, no doubt, + Who brought you thither?--such we always scout. + + NOW Isabella, (--sister you must lose, + Henceforth, that name to you we cannot use; + The honour is too great,) in such a case, + Pray are you sensible of your disgrace, + And what's the punishment you'll undergo? + Before to-morrow, this you'll fully know; + Our institution chastisement decrees; + Come speak, I say, we'll hear you if you please. + + POOR Isabella, with her sight on ground, + Confused, till then had scarcely looked around, + Now raised her eyes, and luckily perceived + The breeches, which her fears in part relieved, + And that the sisters, by surprise unnerved, + As oft's the case, had never once observed. + She courage took, and to the abbess said, + There's something from the Psalter, on your head, + That awkwardly hangs down; pray, madam, try + To put it right, or 'twill be in your eye. + + 'TWAS knee-strings, worn, at times, by priests and beaux, + For, more or less, all follow fashion's laws. + This veil, no doubt, had very much the air + Of those unmentionables parsons wear; + And this the nun, to frolicking inclined, + It seems had well impressed upon her mind. + What, cried the abbess, dares she still to sneer? + How great her insolence to laugh and jeer, + When sins so heavily upon her rest, + And ev'ry thing remains quite unconfessed. + Upon my word, she'd be a saint decreed; + My veil, young imp, your notice cannot need; + 'Tis better think, you little hellish crow, + What pains your soul must undergo below. + + THE mother abbess sermonized and fired, + And seemed as if her tongue would ne'er be tired. + Again the culprit said, your Psalter, pray, + Good madam, haste to set the proper way; + On which the sisters looked, both young and old + THOSE 'gan to laugh, while THESE were heard to scold. + + OUR preacher, quite ashamed of what she'd done, + Now lost her voice, and noticed not the nun; + The murmur buzzed around, too well expressed, + What thoughts the holy sisterhood possessed. + At length the abbess said:--we've now not time + To take the chapter's votes upon her crime; + 'Twould make it late; let each to bed return, + And, till to-morrow, we'll the case adjourn. + No chapter met, howe'er, when morrow came; + Another day arrived, and still the same; + The sages of the convent thought it best, + In fact, to let the mystick business rest. + Much noise, perhaps, would hurt religion's cause, + And, that considered, prudent 'twere to pause. + Base envy made them Isabella hate, + And dark suspicions to the abbess state. + In short, unable by their schemes to get + The morsel she'd so fortunately met, + Each nun exerted all her art to find, + What equally might satisfy the mind. + Old friends were willingly received again; + Her gallant our belle was suffered to retain; + The rector and the abbess had their will; + And, such their union, precepts to fulfill, + That if a nun had none to give her bliss, + To lend a friend was nothing thought amiss. + + + + + + + KING CANDAULES AND THE DOCTOR OF LAWS + + + IN life oft ills from self-imprudence spring; + As proof, Candaules' story we will bring; + In folly's scenes the king was truly great: + His vassal, Gyges, had from him a bait, + The like in gallantry was rarely known, + And want of prudence never more was shown. + + MY friend, said he, you frequently have seen + The beauteous face and features of the queen; + But these are naught, believe me, to the rest, + Which solely can be viewed when quite undressed. + Some day I'll let you gratify your eyes; + Without her knowledge I'll means devise; + But on condition:--you'll remember well + What you behold, to no one you will tell, + In ev'ry step most cautiously proceed, + And not your mind with silly wishes feed; + No sort of pleasure surely I could take, + To see vain passion you her lover make. + You must propose, this charming form to view, + As if mere marble, though to nature true; + And I'm convinced you'll readily declare, + Beyond nor art can reach, nor thought prepare; + Just now I left her in the bath at ease: + A judge you are, and shall the moment seize; + Come, witness my felicity supreme; + You know her beauties are my constant theme. + + AWAY they went, and Gyges much admired; + Still more than that: in truth his breast was fired; + For when she moved astonishment was great, + And ev'ry grace upon her seemed to wait. + Emotion to suppress howe'er he tried, + Since he had promised what he felt to hide; + To hold his tongue he wished, but that might raise + Suspicions of designs and mystick ways. + Exaggeration was the better part, + And from the subject he would never start, + But fully praised each beauty in detail, + Without appearing any thing to veil. + Gods! Gyges cried, how truly, king, you're blessed; + The skin how fair--how charming all the rest! + + THIS am'rous conversation by the queen + Was never heard, or she'd enraged have been; + In ancient days of ignorance, we find, + The sex, to show resentment, much inclined; + In diff'rent light at present this appears, + And fulsome praises ne'er offend their ears. + + OUR arch observer struggled with his sighs + Those feelings much increased, so fair the prize: + The prince, in doubt, conducted him away; + But in his heart a hundred arrows lay; + Each magick charm directed pointed darts; + To flee were useless: LOVE such pain imparts, + That nothing can at times obstruct its course; + So quick the flight: so truly great the force. + + WHILE near the king, much caution Gyges showed; + But soon the belle perceived his bosom glowed; + She learned the cause:--her spouse the tale disclosed, + And laughed and jeered, as he the facts exposed: + A silly blockhead! not to know a queen + Could raillery not bear on such a scene. + But had it pleased her wishes, still 'twere right + (Such honour's dictates) to discover spite; + And this she truly did, while in her mind, + To be revenged she fully was inclined. + + FOR once, good reader, I should wish thee wife; + Or otherwise, thou never can'st in life, + Conceive the lengths a woman oft will go, + Whose breast is filled with wrath and secret woe. + A mortal was allowed these charms to view, + Which others' eyes could never dare pursue. + Such treasures were for gods, or rather kings + The privilege of both are beauteous things. + + THESE thoughts induced the queen revenge to seek; + Rage moved her breast, and shame possessed her cheek. + E'en Cupid, we are told, assistance gave; + What from his aim effectually can save? + Fair in person was Gyges to behold; + Excuses for her easy 'twere to mould; + To show her charms, what baseness could excel? + And on th' exposer all her hatred fell. + Besides, he was a husband, which is worse + With these each sin receives a double curse. + What more shall I detail?--the facts are plain: + Detested was the king:--beloved the swain; + All was accomplished, and the monarch placed + Among the heroes who with horns are graced; + No doubt a dignity not much desired, + Though in repute, and easily acquired. + + SUCH merit had the prince's folly got, + 'In petto', Vulcan's brother was his lot; + The distance thence is little to the HAT: + The honour much the same of this or that. + + SO far 'twas passing well, but, in the intrigue; + The cruel Parcae now appeared to league; + And soon the lovers, on possession bent, + To black Cocytus' shores the monarch sent; + Too much of certain potions forced to drink, + He quickly viewed the dreary, horrid brink; + While pleasing the objects Gyges' eyes beheld; + And in the palace presently he dwelled, + For, whether love or rage the widow fired, + Her throne and hand she gave, as was required. + + T' EXTEND this tale was never my design; + Though known full well, I do not now repine; + The case so thoroughly my purpose served. + Ne'er from the narrative the object swerved; + And scarcely can I fancy, better light + The DOCTOR will afford to what I write. + The scenes that follow I from Rome have drawn; + Not Rome of old, ere manners had their dawn, + When customs were unpleasant and severe + The females, silly, and gallants in fear; + But Rome of modern days, delightful spot! + Where better tastes have into fashion got, + And pleasure solely occupies the mind + To rapture ev'ry bosom seems resigned. + A tempting journey truly it appears, + For youths from twenty on to thirty years. + + NOT long ago, then, in the city dwelled, + A master, who in teaching law excelled; + In other matters he, howe'er, was thought + A man that jollity and laughter sought. + He criticised whatever passed around, + And oft, at others' cost, diversion found. + + IT happened that our learned doctor had, + Among his many pupils (good and bad) + A Frenchman, less designed to study laws, + Than, in amours, perhaps, to gain applause. + One day, observing him with clouded mien, + My friend, said he, you surely have the spleen, + And, out of college, nothing seem to do; + No law books read:--some object I'd pursue; + A handsome Frenchman should his hours improve; + Seek soft intrigues, or as a lover move; + Talents you have, and gay coquettes are here + Not one, thank heav'n, but numbers oft appear. + + THE student answered, I am new at Rome, + And, save the belles who sell their beauteous bloom, + I can't perceive, gallants much business find, + Each house, like monasteries, is designed, + With double doors, and bolts, and matrons sour, + And husbands Argus-eyed, who'd you devour. + Where can I go to follow up your plan, + And hope, in spots like these, a flame to fan? + 'Twere not less difficult to reach the moon, + And with my teeth I'd bite it just as soon. + + HA! HA! replied the doctor with delight, + The honour which you do us is not slight; + I pity men quite fresh and raw like you; + Our town, I see, you've hardly travelled through, + You fancy then, such wily snares are set, + 'Tis difficult intrigues in Rome to get. + I'd have you know, we've creatures who devise, + To horn their husbands under Argus' eyes. + 'Tis very common; only try around, + And soon you'll find, that sly amours abound. + Within the neighb'ring church go take your place, + And, to the dames who pass in search of grace, + Present your fingers dipt in water blessed:-- + A sign for those who wish to be caressed. + In case the suppliant's air some lady please, + Who knows her trade, and how to act at ease, + She'll send a message, something to desire: + You'll soon be found, wherever you retire, + Though lodged so secretly, that God alone, + Till then, your place of residence had known. + An aged female will on you attend, + Who, used to this, will full assistance lend, + Arrange an interview with wily art; + No trouble take, you'll have an easy part; + No trouble did I say? why, that's too much; + Some things I would except, their pow'r is such; + And proper 'tis, my friend, that I should hint, + Attentions you at Rome should well imprint, + And be discrete; in France you favours boast: + Of ev'ry moment here you make the most; + The Romans to the greatest lengths proceed. + + So best, the spark replied, I like the deed; + And, though no Gascon, I may boldly say; + Superior prowess always I display. + Perhaps 'twas otherwise, for ev'ry wight; + In this, to play the Gascon, thinks it right. + + To all the doctor's words our youth adhered, + And presently within a church appeared, + Where daily came the choicest belles around, + And loves and graces in their train were found, + Or, if 'tis wished in modern phrase to speak, + Attention num'rous angels there would seek. + Beneath their veils were beauteous sparkling eyes; + The holy-water scarcely would suffice. + + IN lucky spot the spark his station took, + And gave to each that passed a plaintive look; + To some he bowed; to others seemed to pray, + And holy water offered on their way. + One angel 'mong the rest the boon received, + With easy pleasing air, that much relieved; + On which the student to himself expressed, + A fond belief, with her he might be blessed. + + WHEN home, an aged female to him came, + And soon a meeting place he heard her name. + To count particulars howe'er were vain + Their pranks were many, and their folly plain; + The belle was handsome; ev'ry bliss was sought, + And all their moments most delightful thought. + + HE, to the doctor, ev'ry matter told + Discretion in a Frenchman would be cold; + 'Tis out of nature, and bespeaks the cit; + Smells strong of shop, and would not fashion fit. + + THE learned teacher satisfaction showed, + That such success from his instructions flowed, + Laughed heartily at husbands, silly wights, + Who had not wit to guard connubial rights, + And from their lamb the wily wolf to keep: + A shepherd will o'erlook a hundred sheep, + While foolish man's unable to protect, + E'en one where most he'd wish to be correct. + Howe'er, this care he thought was somewhat hard, + But not a thing impossible to guard; + And if he had not got a hundred eyes, + Thank heav'n, his wife, though cunning to devise, + He could defy:--her thoughts so well he knew, + That these intrigues she never would pursue. + + YOU'LL, ne'er believe, good reader, without shame, + The doctor's wife was she our annals name; + And what's still worse, so many things he asked, + Her look, air, form, and secret charms unmasked, + That ev'ry answer fully seemed to say, + 'Twas clearly she, who thus had gone astray. + One circumstance the lawyer led to doubt: + Some talents had the student pointed out, + Which she had never to her husband shown, + And this relief administered alone. + Thought he, those manners not to her belong, + But all the rest are indications strong, + And prove the case; yet she at home is dull; + While this appears to be a prattling trull, + And pleasing in her conversation too; + In other matters 'tis my wife we view, + Form, face, complexion, features, eyes, and hair, + The whole combined pronounces her the fair. + + AT length, when to himself the sage had said + 'Tis she; and then, 'tis not;--his senses led + To make him in the first opinion rest, + You well may guess what rage was in his breast. + A second meeting you have fixed? cried he; + Yes, said the Frenchman, that was made with glee; + We found the first so pleasing to our mind, + That to another both were well inclined, + And thoroughly resolved more fun to seek. + That's right, replied the doctor, have your freak; + The lady howsoe'er I now could name. + The scholar answered, that to me's the same; + I care not what she's called, Nor who she be: + 'Tis quite enough that we so well agree. + By this time I'm convinced her loving spouse. + Possesses what an anchorite might rouse; + And if a failure any where be met, + At such a place to-morrow one may get, + What I shall hope, exactly at the hour, + To find resigned and fully in my pow'r: + + IN bed I shall be instantly received, + And from anxiety be soon relieved. + The place of meeting is a room below, + Most nicely furnished, rich, but void of show. + At first I through a passage dark was led, + Where Sol's bright rays are ne'er allowed to spread; + But soon, by my conductress, I was brought, + 'Mid LOVE'S delights, where all with charms was frought. + + ON this you may suppose the doctor's pain; + But presently he thought a point to gain, + And take the student's place by wily art, + Where, acting in disguise the lover's part, + His rib he might entangle in a net, + And vassalage bestow she'd ne'er forget. + Our learned man was clearly in the wrong; + 'Twere better far to sleep and hold his tongue; + Unless, with God's assistance, he could raise + A remedy that merited full praise. + Whenever wives have got a candidate, + To be admitted to the Cuckold's state, + If thence he get scot free 'tis luck indeed; + But once received, and ornaments decreed, + A blot the more will surely nothing add, + To one already in the garment clad. + The doctor otherwise however thought; + Yet still his reason no advantage brought; + Indeed he fancied, if he could forestall + The youth who now he might his master call; + The trick would to his wisdom credit do, + And show, superior wiles he could pursue. + + AWAY the husband hastened to the place; + In full belief, that, hiding well his face, + And favoured by the darkness of the spot, + The silence marked, and myst'ry of the plot, + He, undiscovered, safely might be led, + Where such delicious fruits were ready spread. + + MISFORTUNE, howsoe'er, would so direct + The aged female nothing to neglect, + Had with her got a lantern to conduct, + The light from which at will she could obstruct, + And, far more cunning than our learned sage, + Perceived at once with whom she had t'engage; + But, marking no surprise, she bade him wait, + While she, his coming, to her dame should state. + Said she, unless I tell her first you're here, + I dare not let you in her room appear. + Besides, you have not got the right attire; + Undressed, in truth, is what she would desire. + My lady, you must know, is gone to bed:-- + Then, thrusting in a dressing room his head, + He there beheld the necessary fare, + Of night-cap, slippers, shirt, and combs for hair, + With perfumes too, in Rome the nicest known, + And fit for highest cardinals to own. + His clothes the learned doctor laid aside; + The aged female came his steps to guide; + Through passages she led him by the hand, + Where all was dark, and many turnings planned; + At once bewildered, and deprived of sight, + The lawyer tottered much for want of light. + At length she ope'd a door, and pushed the sage, + Where most unpleasantly he must engage, + Though doubtless ev'ry way his proper place:-- + The school where he was used the LAWS to trace! + O'ercome with shame, confusion, and surprise, + He nearly fainted, vain 'twere to disguise. + + THE circumstances ran throughout the town; + Each student then was waiting in his gown; + Enough, no doubt, his fortunes to destroy; + The laugh went round, and all was jest and joy. + What, is he mad? said they, or would he seek + Some lass, and with her wish to have a freak? + Still worse arrived:--his beauteous spouse complained; + A trial followed, and distractions reigned; + Her relatives supported well the cause, + And represented, that the MAN of LAWS, + Occasioned jars and matrimonial strife; + That he was mad, and she, a prudent wife, + The marriage was annulled, and she withdrew: + Retirement now the lady would pursue, + In Vavoureuse a prelate blessed the dame, + And, at Saint Croissant, she a nun became. + + + + + + + THE DEVIL IN HELL + + + HE surely must be wrong who loving fears; + And does not flee when beauty first appears. + Ye FAIR, with charms divine, I know your fame; + No more I'll burn my fingers in the flame. + From you a soft sensation seems to rise, + And, to the heart, advances through the eyes; + What there it causes I've no need to tell: + Some die of love, or languish in the spell. + Far better surely mortals here might do; + There's no occasion dangers to pursue. + By way of proof a charmer I will bring, + Whose beauty to a hermit gave the sting: + Thence, save the sin, which fully I except; + A very pleasant intercourse was kept; + Except the sin, again I must repeat, + My sentiments on this will never meet + The taste of him at Rome, who wine had swilled, + Till, to the throat, he thoroughly was filled, + And then exclaimed, is't not a sin to drink? + Such conduct horrid ever I shall think; + I wish to prove, e'en saints in fear should live; + The truth is clear:--our faults may Heav'n forgive; + If dread of punishment, from pow'rs divine, + Had led this friar in the proper line, + He never had the charming girl retained, + Who, young and artless, would your heart have gained. + + HER name was Alibech, if I recollect; + Too innocent, deceptions to detect. + One day this lovely maiden having read, + How certain pious, holy saints were led, + The better to observe religious care, + To seek retirement in some lorn repair, + Where they, like Heav'nly Angels, moved around, + Some here, some there, were in concealment found, + Was quite delighted, strange as it may seem, + And presently she formed the frantick scheme, + Of imitating those her mind revered, + And to her plan most rigidly adhered. + + WITH silent steps the innocent withdrew; + To mothers, sisters,--none she bade adieu. + Long time she walked through fields, and plain, and dale; + At length she gained a wood within a vale; + There met an aged man, who once might be, + Gay, airy, pleasing, blithe, gallant, and free, + But now a meagre skeleton was seen + The shadow only of what late he'd been: + Said she, good father, I have much desire + To be a saint: thither my hopes aspire; + I fain would merit reverence and prayer, + A festival have kept with anxious care; + What pleasure, ev'ry year, the palm in hand, + And, beaming round the head, a holy band, + Nice presents, flow'rs, and off'rings to receive + Your practice difficult must I believe? + Already I can fast for many days, + And soon should learn to follow all your ways. + Go, said the aged man, your plan resign; + I'd have you, as a friend, the state decline; + 'Tis not so easy sanctity to meet, + That fasting should suffice the boon to greet. + Heav'n guards from ill the maids and wives who fast, + Or holiness would very seldom last. + 'Tis requisite to practise other things; + These secrets are, which move by hidden springs; + A hermit, whom you'll find beneath yon' beech, + + Can, better far than I, their virtues teach; + Go, seek him, pray, make haste if you are sage; + I ne'er retain such birds within my cage. + This having said, at once he left the belle, + And wisely shut the door, and barred his cell: + Not trusting hair-cloth, fasting, age, nor gout; + With beauty, anchorites themselves should doubt. + + OUR pensive fair soon found the person meant, + A man whose soul was on religion bent; + His name was Rustick, young and warm in prayer; + Such youthful hermits of deception share. + Her holy wish, the girl to him expressed, + A wish most fervent doubtless to be blessed, + And felt so strongly, Alibech had fear, + Some day the mark might on her fruit appear. + + A SMILE her innocence from Rustick drew; + Said he, in me you little learning view; + But what I've got, I'll readily divide, + And nothing from your senses try to hide. + + THE hermit surely would have acted right; + Such pupil to have sent away at sight. + He managed otherwise, as we shall state; + The consequences, let us now relate. + + SINCE much he wished perfection to pursue; + He, to himself, exclaimed: what can'st thou do? + Watch, fast, and pray; wear hair-cloth too; but this + Is surely little that will lead to bliss; + All do as much, but with a FAIR to dwell, + And, never touch her, would be to excel; + 'Twere triumph 'mong the Heav'nly Angels thought; + Let's merit it, and keep what here is brought; + If I resist a thing so sweet and kind, + I gain the end that pow'rs divine designed. + + HE with him let the charming belle remain; + And confident he could at will abstain, + Both Satan and the flesh at once defied: + Two foes on mischief ready to decide. + + BEHOLD our saints together in a hut; + Young Rustick, where a corner seemed to jut; + A bed of rushes for the novice placed, + Since sleeping on the floor had her debased, + Who, yet unused to hardships, much must feel: + 'Twas best that these should on her senses steal. + A little fruit, and bread not over fine, + She had for supper:--water too for wine. + The hermit fasted; but the lady fed, + And ate with appetite her fruit and bread. + + APART their place of rest, the maiden slept, + But something quite awake the other kept: + The Devil could by no means quiet rest, + Till he should get admitted as a guest. + He was received within the humble cell; + The friar's thoughts were on his smiling belle, + Her simple manners, fascinating grace, + Complexion, age; each feature he would trace; + The heaving bosom, and the beauteous charms; + That made him wish to clasp her in his arms. + + BY passion moved, he bade at once adieu, + To hair-cloth, discipline, and fasting too; + Cried he, my saints are these; to them I'll pray; + From Alibech no longer he would stay, + But to her flew, and roused the girl from sleep: + Said he, so soon you should not silence keep, + It is not right:--there's something to be done, + Ere we suspend the converse we've begun: + 'Tis proper that, to please the pow'rs divine; + We Satan instantly in Hell confine; + He was created for no other end; + To block him up let's ev'ry effort lend. + + IMMEDIATELY within the bed he slid, + When, scarcely knowing what young Rustick did; + And, unaccustomed to the mystick scene, + She knew not what the anchorite could mean, + Nor this nor that but, partly by consent, + And partly force, yet wishing to prevent, + Though not presuming to resist his sway + To him 'mid pain and pleasure, she gave way, + Believing ev'ry thing was most exact, + And, what the saint performed, a gracious act, + By thus the Devil shutting up in Hell, + Where he was destined with his imps to dwell. + + HENCEFORTH 'twas requisite, if saint she'd be; + From martyrdom she must not think to flee, + For friar Rustick little sought to please: + The lesson was not given quite at ease, + Which made the girl (not much improved in wit) + Exclaim, this Devil mischief will commit; + 'Tis very plain, though strange it may appear + To hurt his prison e'en he'll persevere; + The injury now you clearly may perceive; + But, for the evil done, I shall not grieve: + Yet richly he deserves to be again + Shut up effectually in his domain. + + IT shall be so, the anchorite replied; + Once more the mystick art was fully tried; + Such care he took, such charity was shown, + That Hell, by use, free with the Devil grown, + His presence pleasant always would have found; + Could Rustick equally have kept his ground. + + CRIED Alibech, 'tis very truly said, + No prison has so nice and soft a bed, + But presently the host will weary grow; + And here our pair soon discord seemed to show: + Hell, for the prisoner, in vain inquired; + Deaf was the fiend, and quietly retired; + Repeated calls of course must irksome prove: + The fair grew weary, when he would not move; + Her strong desire to be a saint declined; + And Rustick to get rid of her designed; + In this with him the belle agreed so well, + That secretly she left the hermit's cell, + And home returned in haste the shortest way; + But what the fair could to her parents say, + Is what I fain would know, though truly yet; + The full particulars I ne'er could get. + 'Tis probable she made them understand, + Her heart was prompted by divine command; + To try to be a saint; that they believed, + Or seemingly for truth the tale received. + Perhaps the parents were not quite exact, + In narrowly examining the fact; + Though some suspicions doubtless might arise + About her Hell, they could not well disguise; + But 'tis so formed that little can be seen, + And many jailors in it duped have been. + + FOR Alibech great feasting was prepared, + When, through simplicity, the girl declared, + To those around, without the least restraint, + How she had acted to be made a saint. + You'd surely no occasion, they replied, + To go so far instruction to provide, + When at your house you might have had, with ease, + Like secret lectures, just as you should please. + Said one, my brother could the thing have done; + Another cried,--my cousin would have run + To do the same; or Neherbal, who's near, + No novice in the business would appear; + He seeks your hand, which you'll be wise to take + Before he learns--what might a diff'rence make. + She took the hint, and he the fair received; + A handsome fortune many fears relieved; + This joined to num'rous charms that had the belle; + He fancied pure a most suspicious Hell, + And freely used the blessings Hymen sends; + May Heav'n like joys bestow on all our friends! + + + + + + + NEIGHBOUR PETER'S MARE + + + A CERTAIN pious rector (John his name), + But little preached, except when vintage came; + And then no preparation he required + On this he triumphed and was much admired. + Another point he handled very well, + Though oft'ner he'd thereon have liked to dwell, + And this the children of the present day, + So fully know, there's naught for me to say: + John to the senses things so clearly brought, + That much by wives and husbands he was sought, + Who held his knowledge of superior price, + And paid attention to his sage advice. + Around, whatever conscience he might find, + To soft delights and easy ways inclined, + In person he would rigidly attend, + And seek to act the confessor and friend; + Not e'en his curate would he trust with these; + But zealously he tried to give them ease, + And ev'ry where would due attention show, + Observing that divines should always know + Their flocks most thoroughly and visit round; + To give instruction and the truth expound. + + AMONG the folks, to whom he visits paid, + Was neighbour Peter, one who used the spade; + A villager that God, in lieu of lands, + Had furnished only with a pair of hands, + To dig and delve, and by the mattock gain + Enough his wife and children to maintain. + Still youthful charms you in his spouse might trace; + The weather injured solely had her face, + But not the features which were perfect yet: + Some wish perhaps more blooming belles to get; + The rustick truly me would ne'er have pleased; + But such are oft by country parsons seized, + Who low amours and dishes coarse admire, + That palates more refined would not desire. + + THE pastor John would often on her leer, + just as a cur, when store of bones are near, + That would good pickings for his teeth afford, + Attentively behold the precious hoard, + And seem uneasy; move his feet and tail; + Now prick his ears; then fear he can't prevail, + The eyes still fixed upon the bite in sight, + Which twenty times to these affords delight, + Ere to his longing jaws the boon arrives, + However anxiously the suitor strives. + + SELF-TORMENTS solely parson John obtained; + By seeing her that o'er his senses reigned. + The village-wife was innocent of this, + And never dreamed of any thing amiss; + The pastor's mystick looks, nor flatt'ring ways; + Nor presents, aught in Magdalene could raise; + But nosegays made of thyme, and marj'ram too, + Were dropt on ground, or never kept in view; + A hundred little cares appeared as naught + 'Twas Welch to her, and ne'er conveyed a thought. + A pleasant stratagem he now contrived, + From which, he hoped, success might be derived. + + MOST clearly Peter was a heavy lout, + Yet truly I could never have a doubt, + That rashly he would ne'er himself commit, + Though folly 'twere from him to look for wit, + Or aught expect by questioning to find + 'Yond this to reason, he was not designed. + + THE rector to him said, thou'rt poor, my friend, + And hast not half enough for food to spend, + With other things that necessary prove, + If we below with comfort wish to move. + Some day I'll show thee how thou may'st procure + The means that will thy happiness insure, + And make thee feel contented as a king. + To me what present for it wilt thou bring? + + ZOOKS! Peter answered, parson, I desire, + You'll me direct to do as you require; + My labour pray command; 'tis all I've got; + Our pig howe'er to you we can allot, + We want it not; and truly it has eat + More bran than thrice this vessel would complete; + The cow you'll take besides, from which my wife + A calf expects, to raise the means of life. + No, no, the pastor with a smile replied, + A recompense for this thou'lt not provide; + My neighbour to oblige is all I heed; + And now I'll tell thee how thou must proceed; + Thy spouse, by magick, I'll transform each day, + And turn her to a mare for cart or dray, + And then again restore her ev'ry night, + To human form to give thy heart delight. + From this to thee great profit will arise; + Thy ass, so slow is found, that when supplies, + It carries to the market, 'tis so late, + The hour is almost past ere at the gate, + And then thy cabbages, and herbs, and roots, + Provisions, provender, and wares and fruits, + Remain unsold, and home to spoil are brought, + Since rarely far from thence such things are sought. + But when thy wife's a mare, she'll faster go: + Strong, active, ev'ry way her worth she'll show, + And home will come without expense in meat: + No soup nor bread, but solely herbs she'll eat: + + SAID Peter, parson, clearly you are wise; + From learning, what advantages arise! + Is this pray sold?--If I'd much money got, + To make the purchase I'd the cash allot. + + CONTINUED John:--now I will thee instruct, + The proper manner, matters to conduct, + For thee to have a clever mare by day, + And still at night a charming wife survey; + Face, legs, and ev'ry thing shall reappear; + Come, see it done, and I'll perform it here; + Thou'lt then the method fully comprehend; + But hold thy tongue, or all will quickly end: + A single word the magick would dispel, + And, during life, no more with us 'twould dwell. + Keep close thy mouth and merely ope' thy eyes: + A glimpse alone to learn it will suffice; + This o'er, thyself shall practise it the same, + And all will follow as when first it came. + + THE husband promised he would hold his tongue; + And John disliked deferring matters long. + Come, Magdalene, said he, you will undress; + To quit those Sunday-clothes, you'll acquiesce, + And put yourself in Nature's pure array + Well, well, proceed; with stays and sleeves away; + That's better still; now petticoats lay by; + How nicely with my orders you comply. + + WHEN Magdalene was to the linen come, + Some marks of shame around her senses swum; + A wife to live and die was her desire, + Much rather than be seen in Eve's attire; + She vowed that, spite of what the priest disclosed; + She never would consent to be exposed. + + SAID Peter, pretty work, upon my truth:-- + Not let us see how you are made forsooth! + What silly scruples!--Are they in your creed? + You were not always led such scenes to heed: + Pray how d'ye manage when for fleas you seek? + 'Tis strange, good sir, that she should be so weak; + What can you fear?--'tis folly time to waste; + He will not eat you: come, I say, make haste: + Have done with haggling; had you acted right, + Ere now the parson all had finished quite. + + ON saying this, her garment off he took; + Put on his spectacles to overlook; + And parson John, without delay, began; + Said he (as o'er her person now he ran), + This part umbilical will make the mare + A noble breast, and strength at once declare: + Then further on the pastor placed his hand, + While, with the other, (as a magick wand,) + He set about transforming mounts of snow; + That in our climes a genial warmth bestow, + And semi-globes are called, while those that rise + In t'other hemisphere, of larger size, + Are seldom mentioned, through respect no doubt, + But these howe'er the parson, quite devout, + Would not neglect, and whatsoe'er he felt, + He always named, and on its beauties dwelt; + The ceremony this, it seems, required, + And fully ev'ry movement John admired. + + PROCEEDINGS so minute gave Peter pain, + And as he could not see the rector gain + The slightest change, he prayed the pow'rs divine, + To give assistance to the priest's design; + But this was vain, since all the magick spell, + In metamorphosing the lady well, + Depended on the fixing of the tail; + Without this ornament the whole would fail. + + To set it on the parson hastened now, + When Neighbour Peter 'gan to knit his brow, + And bawled so loud, you might have heard him far: + No tail, said he, I'll have: there'll be a scar; + You put it on too low; but vain his cries, + The husband's diligence would not suffice, + For, spite of ev'ry effort, much was done, + And John completely his career had run, + If Peter had not pulled the rector's gown, + Who hastily replied, thou ninny, clown; + Did I not tell thee silence to observe, + And not a footstep from thy station swerve? + The whole is spoiled, insufferable elf! + And for it thou hast got to thank thyself. + + THE husband, while the holy pastor spoke, + Appeared to grumble and his stars invoke. + The wife was in a rage, and 'gan to scold: + Said she to Peter, wretch that I behold! + Thou'lt be through life a prey to pain and grief, + Come not to me and bray and hope relief, + The worthy pastor would have us procured + The means that might much comfort have ensured. + Can he deserve such treatment to receive? + Good Mister John this goose I now would leave, + And ev'ry morning, while he gathers fruits, + Or plants, herbs, cabbages, and various roots, + Without averting him, pray, here repair, + You'll soon transform me to a charming mare. + + No mare, replied the husband, I desire; + An ass for me is all that I require. + + + + + + + THE SPECTACLES + + + I LATELY vowed to leave the nuns alone, + So oft their freaks have in my page been shown. + The subject may at length fatigue the mind; + My Muse the veil howe'er is still inclined, + Conspicuously to hold to publick view, + And, 'mong the sisters, scene and scene pursue. + Is this too much?--the nicest tricks they play; + Through soft amours oft artfully they stray, + And these in full I'd readily detail, + If I were sure the subject would not fail; + And that's impossible I must admit, + 'Twould endless be, the tales appear so fit; + There's not a clerk so expeditious found, + Who could record the stories known around. + The sisters to forget, were I to try, + Suspicions might arise that, by and by, + I should return: some case might tempt my pen; + So oft I've overrun the convent-den, + Like one who always makes, from time to time, + The conversation with his feelings chime. + But let us to an end the subject bring, + And after this, of other matters sing. + + IN former times was introduced a lad + Among the nuns, and like a maiden clad; + A charming girl by all he was believed; + Fifteen his age; no doubts were then conceived; + Coletta was the name the youth had brought, + And, till he got a beard, was sister thought. + + THE period howsoe'er was well employed, + And from it Agnes profit had enjoyed; + What profit?--truly better had I said, + That sister Agnes by him was misled, + And store of ills received; misfortune dire + Obliged the nun more girdle to require, + And ultimately to produce (in spite + Of ev'ry wish to guard the fact from light) + A little creature that our hist'ries say, + Was found Coletta's features to display. + + GREAT scandal quickly through the convent ran: + How could this child arrive?--the sisters 'gan + To laugh and ask, if in an evil hour, + The mushroom could have fallen with a show'r? + Or self-created was it not supposed? + Much rage the abbess presently disclosed; + To have her holy mansion thus disgraced! + Forthwith the culprit was in prison placed. + + THE father to discover next they tried; + How could he enter, pass, escape, or hide; + The walls were high; the grate was double too; + Quite small the turning-box appeared to view, + And she who managed it was very old:-- + Perhaps some youthful spark has been so bold, + Cried she who was superior to the rest, + To get admitted, like a maiden dressed, + And 'mong our flock (if rightly I surmise) + A wicked wolf is lurking in disguise. + Undress, I say, I'll verify the fact; + No other way remains for me to act. + + THE lad disguised was terrified to death; + Each plan was dissipated with a breath; + The more he thought of means from thence to get, + The greater were the obstacles he met. + At length NECESSITY (the parent found + Of stratagems and wiles, so much renowned,) + Induced the youth . . . (I scarcely can proceed) + To tie . . . expression here I clearly need; + What word will decently express the thought? + What book has got it?--where should it be sought? + You've heard, in days of yore that human kind, + With windows in their bosoms were designed, + Through which 'twas easy all within to see, + And suited those of medical degree. + + BUT if these windows useful were believed; + 'Twas inconvenient in the heart perceived, + And women thoroughly disliked the scheme:-- + They could not find the means to hide a dream. + Dame Nature howsoe'er contrived a plan:-- + One lace she gave the woman, one the man, + Of equal length, and each enough no doubt, + By proper care to shut the ope throughout. + The woman much too thick her eyelets placed; + And consequently, ne'er was closely laced; + The fault was all her own: herself the cause; + The man as little merited applause, + For coarsely working, soon the hole was shut, + From which the remnant lace was left to jut; + In fact, on either side, whate'er was done, + The laces never equally would run, + And we are told, both sexes acted wrong: + The woman's was too short; the man's too long. + + FROM this 'tis easy, it should seem to guess: + What by the youth was tied in this distress + The end of lace that by the men was left, + When nature ordered them to close the cleft: + With thread he fastened it so very well, + That all was flat as any nun or belle; + But thread or silk, you cannot find a string + To hold, what soon I fear will give a spring, + And get away, in spite of all you do; + Bring saints or angels such a scene to view, + As twenty nuns in similar array, + Strange creatures I should think them:--merely clay, + If they should at the sight unmoved remain; + I speak of nuns, howe'er, whose charms maintain + Superior rank, and like the Graces seem, + Delightful sisters! ev'ry way supreme. + + THE prioress, this secret to disclose, + Appeared with spectacles upon her nose; + And twenty nuns around a dress displayed; + That convent mantua-makers never made, + Imagine to yourself what felt the youth, + 'Mid this examination of the truth. + The nice proportions and the lily charms + Soon raised within his bosom dire alarms; + Like magick operated on the string, + And from it, what was tied, soon gave a spring; + Broke loose at once, just like a mettled steed, + That, having slipt its halter, flies with speed; + Against the abbess' nose with force it flew, + And spectacles from her proboscis threw. + + THOUGH she had nearly fallen on the floor, + In thus attempting secrets to explore, + No jest she thought the accident, 'twas plain, + But would with force the discipline maintain. + A chapter instantly the lady held; + Long time upon the circumstance they dwelled. + The youthful wolf that caused the direful shock; + At length was given to the aged flock, + Who tied his hands and bound him to a tree + Face 'gainst the wood, that none his front might see; + And while the cruel troop, with rage inflamed, + Considered of rewards that vengeance framed; + While some the besoms from the kitchen brought; + And others, in the convent ars'nal sought + The various instruments the sisters used + To punish when obedience was refused; + Another double-locked, within a room. + The nuns of tender hearts and youthful bloom:-- + By chance, a friend to sly gallants appeared, + And soon removed, what most our hero feared: + A miller mounted on his mule came by, + A tight-built active lad with piercing eye; + One much admired by all the girls around; + Played well at kayles:--a good companion found. + Aha! cried he, what's here?--a nice affair; + Young man, pray tell me who has placed thee there? + The sisters, say'st thou?--hast thou had thy fun, + And pleased thy fancy with a wanton nun? + Art satisfied?--and was she pretty too? + In truth, to judge by what appears to view, + Thou seemest thoroughly a wily wight, + That convent belles would relish morn and night. + + ALAS! replied the other with a sigh, + In vain the nuns my virtue sought to try; + 'Twas my misfortune:--patience heav'n bestow; + For worlds such wickedness I would not know. + + THE miller laughed at what the other spoke; + Untied his hands, and ev'ry bandage broke. + Said he, thou ninny, scruples can'st thou find + To counteract, and prove to pleasure blind? + The business clearly should to me belong; + Our rector ne'er had thought such conduct wrong, + And never would have played the fool like this; + Fly, haste away, away; I'll thee dismiss, + First having nicely set me in thy place; + Like me thou wert not formed for soft embrace; + I'm stout and able:--quarter ne'er will ask; + Come ALL, these nuns, I'll execute the task, + And many pranks they'll see, unless a freak + Should happen any way the string to break. + The other never asked his wishes twice, + But tied him well, and left him in a trice. + + WITH shoulders broad the miller you might see; + In Adam's birth-attire against the tree, + Await the coming of the aged band, + Who soon appeared, with tapers in the hand, + In solemn guise, and whips and scourges dire: + The virgin troop (as convent laws require) + In full procession moved around the Wight; + Without allowing time to catch his sight, + Or giving notice what they meant to do: + How now! cried he:--why won't you take a view? + Deceived you are; regard me well I pray; + I'm not the silly fool you had to-day, + Who woman hates, and scruples seeks to raise: + Employ but me, and soon I'll gain your praise; + I'll wonders execute; my strength appears; + And; if I fail, at once cut off my ears. + At certain pleasant play I'm clever found; + But as to whips--I never was renowned. + + WHAT means the fellow? cried a toothless nun; + What would he tell us? Hast thou nothing done? + How!--Art thou not our brat-begetter?--speak; + So much the worse:--on thee our rage we'll wreak, + For him that's gone we'll make thee suffer now; + Once arms in hand, we never will allow + Such characters full punishment to miss; + The play that we desire is THIS and THIS; + Then whips and scourges round him 'gan to move, + And not a little troublesome to prove + The miller, writhing with the poignant smart, + Cried loudly:--I'll exert my utmost art, + Good ladies, to perform what is your due; + The more he bawled, the faster lashes flew. + This work so well the aged troop achieved, + He long remembered what his skin received. + + WHILE thus the master chastisement had got; + His mule was feeding on the verdant spot. + But what became of this or that, at last, + I've never heard, and care not how it past. + 'Tis quite enough to save the young gallant, + And more particulars we do not want. + + My readers, for a time, could they obtain + A dozen nuns like these, where beauties reign, + Would doubtless not be seen without their dress! + We do not always ev'ry wish express. + + + + + + + THE BUCKING-TUB + + + IF once in love, you'll soon invention find + And not to cunning tricks and freaks be blind; + The youngest 'prentice, when he feels the dart, + Grows wondrous shrewd, and studies wily art. + This passion never, we perceive, remains + In want from paucity of scheming brains. + The god of hearts so well exerts his force, + That he receives his dues as things of course. + A bucking-tub, of which a tale is told, + Will prove the case, and this I'll now unfold; + Particulars I heard some days ago, + From one who seemed each circumstance to know. + + WITHIN a country town, no matter where, + Its appellation nothing would declare, + A cooper and his wife, whose name was Nan, + Kept house, and through some difficulties ran. + Though scanty were their means, LOVE thither flew; + And with him brought a friend to take a view; + 'Twas Cuckoldom accompanied the boy, + Two gods most intimate, who like to toy, + And, never ceremonious, seek to please + Go where they will, still equally at ease; + 'Tis all for them good lodging, fare, or bed; + And, hut or palace, pleasantly they tread. + + IT happened then, a spark this fair caressed, + And, when he hoped most fully to be blessed, + When all was ready to complete the scene, + And on a point:--if naught should intervene + Not NAMED howe'er will quite enough suffice, + When suddenly the husband, by surprise, + Returned from drinking at an ale-house near, + just when, just when:--the rest is pretty clear. + + THEY curst his coming; trouble o'er them spread; + Naught could be done but hide the lover's head; + Beneath a bucking-tub, in utmost haste, + Within the court, our gay gallant was placed. + + THE husband, as he entered, loudly cried, + I've sold our bucking-tub. The wife replied, + What price, I pray?--Three crowns rejoined the man; + Then thou'rt a silly ass, said mistress Nan; + To-day, by my address, I've gained a crown, + And sold the same for twenty shillings down: + My bargain luckily the first was made; + The buyer, (who of flaws is much afraid) + Examines now if ev'ry part is tight; + He's in the tub to see if all be right. + What, blockhead, would'st thou do without thy wife? + Thou huntest taverns while she works for life; + But necessary 'tis for her to act, + When thou art out, or naught would be exact. + No pleasure ever yet received have I; + But take my word, to get it now I'll try. + Gallants are plenty; husbands should have wives; + That, like themselves, lead gay or sober lives. + + I PRYTHEE softly, wife, the husband said; + Come, come, sir, leave the tub, there's naught to dread; + When you are out, I'll ev'ry quarter scrape, + Then try if water from it can escape; + I'll warrant it to be as good as nice, + And nothing can be better worth the price. + + OUT came the lover; in the husband went; + Scraped here and there, and tried if any vent; + With candle in his hand looked round and round, + Not dreaming once that LOVE without was found. + But nothing he could see of what was done; + And while the cooper sought to overrun + The various parts, and by the tub was hid, + The gods already noticed thither slid; + A job was by the deities proposed, + That highly pleased the couple when disclosed; + A very diff'rent work from what within + The husband had, who scraped with horrid din, + And rubbed, and scrubbed, and beat so very well, + Fresh courage took our gay gallant and belle; + They now resumed the thread so sadly lost, + When, by the cooper's coming, all was crossed. + + THE reader won't require to know the rest; + What passed perhaps may easily be guessed. + 'Tis quite enough, my thesis I have proved; + The artful trick our pair with raptures moved. + Nor one nor t'other was a 'prentice new; + A lover be:--and wiles you'll soon pursue. + + + + + + + THE IMPOSSIBLE THING + + + A DEMON, blacker in his skin than heart, + So great a charm was prompted to impart; + To one in love, that he the lady gained, + And full possession in the end obtained: + The bargain was, the lover should enjoy + The belle he wished, and who had proved so coy. + Said Satan, soon I'll make her lend an ear, + In ev'ry thing more complaisant appear; + But then, instead of what thou might'st expect, + To be obedient and let me direct, + The devil, having thus obliged a friend, + He'll thy commands obey, thou may'st depend, + The very moment; and within the hour + Thy humble servant, who has got such pow'r, + Will ask for others, which at once thou'lt find; + Make no delay, for if thou art so blind, + Thou comprehend'st, thy body and thy soul + The lovely fair no longer shall control, + But Satan then upon them both shall seize, + And with them do-whatever he may please: + 'Gainst this the spark had not a word to say; + 'Twas pleasing to command, though not obey. + + HE sallied forth the beauteous belle to seek, + And found her as he wished:--complying-meek; + Indulged in blisses, and most happy proved, + Save that the devil always round him moved. + Whatever rose within the whirl of thought + He now commanded:--quickly it was brought; + And when he ordered palaces to rise, + Or raging tempests to pervade the skies, + The devil instantly obeyed his will, + And what he asked was done with wondrous skill. + + LARGE sums his purse received;--the devil went + just where commanded, and to Rome was sent, + From whence his highness store of pardons got; + No journey long, though distant was the spot, + But ev'ry thing with magick ease arose, + And all was soon accomplished that he chose. + So oft the spark was asked for orders new, + Which he was bound to give the fiend at view, + That soon his head most thoroughly was drained, + And to the fair our lover much complained, + Declared the truth, and ev'ry thing detailed, + How he was lost, if in commands he failed. + + IS'T this, said she, that makes thee so forlorn? + Mere nothing!-quickly I'll remove the thorn; + When Satan comes, present his highness this, + Which I have here, and say:--You will not miss + To make it flat, and not its curl retain + On which she gave him, what with little pain + She drew from covert of the Cyprian grove, + The fairy labyrinth where pleasures rove, + Which formerly a duke so precious thought; + To raise a knightly order thence he sought, + Illustrious institution, noble plan, + More filled with gods and demi-gods than man. + + THE lover to the crafty devil said:-- + 'Tis crooked this, you see, and I am led + To wish it otherwise; go, make it straight; + A perfect line: no turn, nor twist, nor plait. + Away to work, be quick, fly, hasten, run; + The demon fancied it could soon be done; + No time he lost, but set it in the press, + And tried to manage it with great success; + The massy hammer, kept beneath the deep, + Made no impression: he as well might sleep; + Howe'er he beat: whatever charm he used:-- + 'Twas still the same; obedience it refused. + His time and labour constantly were lost; + Vain proved each effort: mystick skill was crossed; + The wind, or rain, or fog, or frost, or snow, + Had no effect: still circular 'twould go. + The more he tried, the ringlet less inclined + To drop the curvature so closely twined. + How's this? said Satan, never have I seen + Such stubborn stuff wherever I have been; + The shades below no demon can produce, + That could divine what here would prove of use: + 'Twould puzzle hell to break the curling spring, + And make a line direct of such a thing. + + ONE morn the devil to the other went: + Said he, to give thee up I'll be content; + If solely thou wilt openly declare + What 'tis I hold, for truly I despair; + I'm victus I confess, and can't succeed: + No doubt the thing's impossible decreed. + + + FRIEND Satan, said the lover, you are wrong; + Despondency should not to you belong, + At least so soon:--what you desire to know + Is not the only one that's found to grow; + Still many more companions it has got, + And others could be taken from the spot. + + + + + + + THE PICTURE + + + SOLICITED I've been to give a tale, + In which (though true, decorum must prevail), + The subject from a picture shall arise, + That by a curtain's kept from vulgar eyes. + My brain must furnish various features new: + What's delicate and smart produce to view; + By this expressed, and not by t'other said: + And all so clear, most easy to be read, + By ev'ry fool, without the aid of notes, + That idiot's bad indeed who never quotes. + + CATULLUS tells us, ev'ry matron sage + Will peep most willingly (whate'er her age), + At that gigantick gift, which Juno made, + To Venus' fruit, in gardens oft displayed. + If any belle recede, and shun the sight, + Dissimulation she supposes right. + + THIS principle allowed, why scruples make? + Why, less than eyes, should ears a license take? + But since 'tis so resolved I'll do my best, + And naught in open terms shall be expressed: + A veil shall over ev'ry charm be cast, + Of gauze indeed, and this from first to last, + So nicely done, that howsoever tost, + To none I trust will any thing be lost. + Who nicely thinks, and speaks with graceful ease; + Can current make just whatsoe'er he please; + For all will pass, as I have often known: + The word well chosen, pardon soon is shown, + The sex o'erlook the thing no more the same, + The thought remains, but 'tis without a name; + No blush is raised; no difficulty found; + Yet ev'ry body understands around. + + AT present, much I need this useful art: + Why? you will ask; because, when I impart + Such wondrous circumstances, ev'ry belle, + Without reserve, will con them over well. + To this I answer: female ears are chaste, + Though roguish are their eyes, as well as taste. + + BE that as 'twill, I certainly should like, + With freedom to explain, by terms oblique, + To belles, how this was broken:--that was down: + Assist me pray, ye NINE of high renown; + But you are maids, and strangers, we agree, + To LOVE'S soft scenes, not knowing A from B. + Remain then, Muses, never stir an inch, + But beg the god of verse, when at a pinch, + To help me out and kind assistance lend, + To choose expressions which will not offend, + Lest I some silly things should chance to say, + That might displeasure raise, and spoil my lay. + Enough, howe'er, we've on the subject said: + 'Tis time we t'wards the painting should be led, + Which an adventure you will find contains, + That happened once in Cupid's famed domains. + + IN former days, just by Cythera town + A monastery was, of some renown, + With nuns the queens of beauty filled the place, + And gay gallants you easily might trace. + The courtier, citizen, and parson too, + The doctor and the bachelor you'd view, + With eager steps:--all visits thither made; + And 'mong the latter, one (a pleasing blade) + Had free access: was thought a prudent friend, + Who might to sisters many comforts lend; + Was always closely shaved and nicely dressed; + And ev'ry thing he said was well expressed; + The breath of scandal, howsoever pat, + Ne'er lighted on his neat cravat nor hat. + + TWO nuns alternatively, from the youth; + Experienced many services, in truth; + The one had recently a novice been; + Few months had passed since she complete was seen; + The other still the dress of novice wore; + The youngest's age was seventeen years, not more + Time doubtless very proper (to be plain) + Love's wily thesis fully to sustain: + The bachelor so well the fair had taught, + And they so earnestly the science sought, + That by experience both the art had learned, + And ev'ry thing most perfectly discerned. + + THESE sisters eagerly had made one day + An assignation with the lover gay; + To have the entertainment quite complete, + They'd Bacchus, Ceres too, who Venus greet: + With perfect neatness all the meats were served, + And naught from grace and elegancy swerved; + The wines, the custards, jellies, creams, and ice: + The decorations, ev'ry thing was nice; + What pleasing objects and delights were viewed! + The room with sweetest flow'rs fair Flora strewed; + A sort of garden o'er the linen traced + Here lakes of love:--there names entwined were placed; + Magnificence like this the nuns admired, + And such amusements ardently desired. + Their beauty too incited to be free; + A thousand matters filled their souls with glee; + In height the belles were pretty much the same + Like alabaster fair; of perfect frame; + In num'rous corners Cupid nestling lay: + Beneath a stomacher he'd slyly play, + A veil or scapulary, this or that, + Where least the eye of day perceived he sat, + Unless a lover called to mystick bow'rs, + Where he might hearts entwine with chains of flow'rs; + A thousand times a day the urchin flew, + With open arms the sisters to pursue; + Their charms were such in ev'ry air and look, + Both (one by one) he for his mother took. + + WITH anxious looks, the ladies thus prepared, + Expected him who all their kindness shared; + Now they bestowed abuse; next fondly praised: + Then of his conduct dark suspicions raised, + Conceived, a new amour him kept away: + What can it be, said one, that makes him stay? + Of honour an affair.--love--sickness--what? + Said t'other whether it be this or that, + If here again his face he ever show, + A pretty trick in turn we'll let him know. + + WHILE thus the couple sought their plot to frame, + A convent porter with a burden came, + For her who kept the stores of ev'ry kind, + Depositary of the whole designed. + 'Twas merely a pretence, as I am told: + The things were not required for young or old; + But she much appetite had got in truth, + Which made her have recourse to such a youth, + Who was regarded, in repasts like these, + A first rate cook that all prepared at ease. + + THIS awkward, heavy lout mistook the cell; + By chance upon our ladies' room he fell, + And knocked with weighty hands: they ope'd the door. + And gave abuse, but soon their anger o'er, + The nuns conceived a treasure they had found, + And, laughing heartily, no longer frowned, + But both exclaimed at once: let's take this fool; + Of him we easily can make a tool; + As well as t'other, don't you think he'll do? + The eldest added:--let's our whim pursue; + 'Tis well determined;--What were we to get, + That here we waited, and are waiting yet? + Fine words and phrases; nothing of the kind; + This wight 's as good, for what we have a mind, + As any bachelor or doctor wise + At all events, for present, he'll suffice. + + SHE rightly judged; his height, form, simple air, + And ev'ry act, so clearly void of care, + Raised expectation; this was AEsop's man, + He never thought: 'twas all without a plan; + Both ate and drank, and, had he been at will, + Would matters far have pushed, though void of skill. + + FAMILIAR grown, the fellow ready seemed, + To execute whate'er was proper deemed; + To serve the convent he was porter made, + And in their wishes nuns of course obeyed. + + 'TIS here begins the subject we've in view, + The scene that faithfully our painter drew; + Apollo, give me aid, assistance lend, + Enable me, I pray, to comprehend, + Why this mean stupid rustick sat at ease, + And left the sisters (Claudia, formed to please, + And lovely fair Theresa) all the care? + Had he not better done to give a chair? + + I THINK I hear the god of verse reply: + Not quite so fast my friend, you may rely, + These matters never can the probe endure; + I understand you; Cupid, to be sure, + Is doubtless found a very roguish boy, + Who, though he please at times, will oft annoy; + I'm wrong a wicked whelp like this to take, + And, master of the ceremonies make. + + NO sooner in a house the urchin gets, + But rules and laws he at defiance sets; + The place of reason whim at once assumes, + Breaks ev'ry obstacle, frets, rages, fumes. + With scenes like these will Cupid oft surprise, + And frantick passion sparkle in his eyes. + + SOON on the floor was seen this boorish wight; + For, whether that the chair was rather slight, + Or that the composition of the clown + Was not, like that of geese, of softest down, + Or that Theresa, by her gay discourse, + Had penetrated to the mystick source, + The am'rous pulpit suddenly gave way, + And on the ground the rustick quickly lay. + The first attempt had clearly bad success, + And fair Theresa suffered you may guess. + + YE censors keep from hence your eyes prophane; + See, honest hearts, how Claudia tried amain, + To take advantage of the dire mishap, + And all she could, with eagerness entrap; + For in the fall Theresa lost her hold; + The other pushed her:--further off she rolled; + And then, what she had quitted Claudia seized; + Theresa, like a demon quite displeased, + Endeavoured to recover what she'd lost:-- + Again to take her seat, but she was crossed. + The sister in possession ne'er inclined + To cede a post so pleasant to her mind; + Theresa raised her hand to give a stroke; + And what of that?--if any thing provoke + When thus engaged, unheeded it remains + Small ills are soon forgot where pleasure reigns. + + IN spite of rage apparent in the face; + Of her who in the scuffle lost her place, + The other followed up the road she took; + His course the rustick also ne'er forsook. + Theresa scolded; anger marked her eyes; + In Venus' games contentions oft arise; + Their violence no parallel has seen:-- + In proof, remember Menelaus' queen. + Though here to take a part Bellona 's found, + Of cuirasses I see but few around; + When Venus closes with the god of Thrace, + Her armour then appears with ev'ry grace. + The FAIR will understand: enough is said; + When beauty's goddess is to combat led, + Her body-cuirass shows superior charms; + The Cyclops rarely forge such pleasing arms. + Had Vulcan graven on Achilles' shield + The picture we've described, more praise 'twould yield. + + THE nun's adventure I in verse have told, + But not in colours, like the action, bold; + And as the story in the picture fails, + The latter seems to lose in my details. + The pen and brush express not quite the same; + Eyes are not ears, however we may aim. + + ENTANGLED in the net, I long have left + The fair Theresa, of her throne bereft; + Howe'er, this sister had her turn we find, + So much to please, the porter was inclined, + That both were satisfied, and felt content; + Here ends our tale, and truly I lament, + That not a word about the feast is said, + Though I've no doubt, they freely drank and fed; + And this for reasons easily conceived: + The interlude gave rest that much relieved. + In fine, 'twas well throughout, except, in truth, + The hour of meeting settled with the youth, + Which much embarrasses I will avow, + For if he never came and made his bow, + The sisters had the means, when they might please, + Completely to console themselves at ease; + And if the spark appeared, the belles could hide + Both clown and chair, or any thing beside + The lover what he wanted soon possessed, + And was as usual treated with the best. + + + + + + + THE PACK-SADDLE + + + A FAMOUS painter, jealous of his wife; + Whose charms he valued more than fame or life, + When going on a journey used his art, + To paint an ASS upon a certain part, + (Umbilical, 'tis said) and like a seal: + Impressive token, nothing thence to steal. + + A BROTHER brush, enamoured of the dame; + Now took advantage, and declared his flame: + The Ass effaced, but God knows how 'twas done; + Another soon howe'er he had begun, + And finished well, upon the very spot; + In painting, few more praises ever got; + But want of recollection made him place + A saddle, where before he none could trace. + + THE husband, when returned, desired to look + At what he drew, when leave he lately took. + Yes, see my dear, the wily wife replied, + The Ass is witness, faithful I abide. + Zounds! said the painter, when he got a sight,-- + What!--you'd persuade me ev'ry thing is right? + I wish the witness you display so well, + And him who saddled it, were both in Hell. + + + + + + + THE EAR-MAKER AND THE MOULD-MENDER + + + WHEN William went from home (a trader styled): + Six months his better half he left with child, + A simple, comely, modest, youthful dame, + Whose name was Alice; from Champaign she came. + Her neighbour Andrew visits now would pay; + With what intention, needless 'tis to say: + A master who but rarely spread his net, + But, first or last, with full success he met; + And cunning was the bird that 'scaped his snare; + Without surrendering a feather there. + + QUITE raw was Alice; for his purpose fit; + Not overburdened with a store of wit; + Of this indeed she could not be accused, + And Cupid's wiles by her were never used; + Poor lady, all with her was honest part, + And naught she knew of stratagem or art. + + HER husband then away, and she alone, + This neighbour came, and in a whining tone, + To her observed, when compliments were o'er:-- + I'm all astonishment, and you deplore, + To find that neighbour William's gone from hence, + And left your child's completing in suspense, + Which now you bear within, and much I fear, + That when 'tis born you'll find it wants an ear. + Your looks sufficiently the fact proclaim, + For many instances I've known the same. + Good heav'ns! replied the lady in a fright; + What say you, pray?--the infant won't be right! + Shall I be mother to a one-eared child? + And know you no relief that's certain styled? + Oh yes, there is, rejoined the crafty knave, + From such mishap I can the baby save; + Yet solemnly I vow, for none but you + I'd undertake the toilsome job to do. + The ills of others, if I may be plain, + Except your husband's, never give me pain; + But him I'd serve for ever, while I've breath; + To do him good I'd e'en encounter death. + Now let us see, without more talk or fears, + If I know how to forge the bantling ears. + Remember, cried the wife, to make them like. + Leave that to me, said he, I'll justly strike. + Then he prepared for work; the dame gave way; + Not difficult she proved:--well pleased she lay; + Philosophy was never less required, + And Andrew's process much the fair admired, + Who, to his work extreme attention paid; + 'Twas now a tendon; then a fold he made, + Or cartilage, of which he formed enough, + And all without complaining of the stuff. + To-morrow we will polish it, said he: + Then in perfection soon the whole will be; + And from repeating this so oft, you'll get + As perfect issue as was ever met. + I'm much obliged to you, the wife replied, + A friend is good in whom we may confide. + + NEXT day, when tardy Time had marked the hour; + That Andrew hoped again to use his pow'r, + He was not plunged in sleep, but briskly flew, + His purpose with the charmer to pursue. + Said he, all other things aside I've laid, + This ear to finish, and to lend you aid. + And I, the dame replied, was on the eve, + To send and beg you not the job to leave; + Above stairs let us go:--away they ran, + And quickly recommenced as they began. + The work so oft was smoothed, that Alice showed + Some scruples lest the ear he had bestowed + Should do too much, and to the wily wight, + She said, so little you the labour slight, + 'Twere well if ears no more than two appear; + Of that, rejoined the other, never fear; + I've guarded thoroughly against defects, + Mistake like that shall ne'er your senses vex. + + THE ear howe'er was still in hand the same, + When from his journey home the husband came. + Saluted Alice, who with anxious look, + Exclaimed,--your work how finely you forsook, + And, but for neighbour Andrew's kindness here, + Our child would incomplete have been--an ear, + I could not let a thing remain like this, + And Andrew would not be to friends remiss, + But, worthy man, he left his thriving trade, + And for the babe a proper ear has made. + + THE husband, not conceiving how his wife, + Could be so weak and ignorant of life, + The circumstances made her fully tell, + Repeat them o'er and on each action dwell. + Enraged at length, a pistol by the bed + He seized and swore at once he'd shoot her dead. + The belle with tears replied, howe'er she'd swerved, + Such cruel treatment never she deserved. + Her innocence, and simple, gentle way, + At length appeared his frantick rage to lay. + What injury, continued she, is done? + The strictest scrutiny I would not shun; + Your goods and money, ev'ry thing is right; + And Andrew told me, nothing he would slight; + That you would find much more than you could want; + And this I hope to me you'll freely grant; + If falsehood I advance, my life I'll lose; + Your equity, I trust, will me excuse. + + A LITTLE cooled, then William thus replied, + We'll say no more; you have been drawn aside; + What passed you fancied acting for the best, + And I'll consent to put the thing at rest; + To nothing good such altercations tend; + I've but a word: to that attention lend; + Contrive to-morrow that I here entrap + This fellow who has caused your sad mishap; + You'll utter not a word of what I've said; + Be secret or at once I'll strike you dead. + Adroitly you must act: for instance say; + I'm on a second journey gone away; + A message or a letter to him send, + Soliciting that he'll on you attend, + That something you have got to let him know;-- + To come, no doubt, the rascal won't be slow; + Amuse him then with converse most absurd, + But of the EAR remember,--not a word; + That's finished now, and nothing can require; + You'll carefully perform what I desire. + Poor innocent! the point she nicely hit; + Fear oft gives simpletons a sort of wit. + + THE arch gallant arrived; the husband came + Ascended to the room where sat his dame; + Much noise he made, his coming to announce; + The lover, terrified, began to bounce; + Now here, now there, no shelter could he meet; + Between the bed and wall he put his feet, + And lay concealed, while William loudly knocked; + Fair Alice readily the door unlocked, + And, pointing with her hand, informed the spouse, + Where he might easily his rival rouse. + + THE husband ev'ry way was armed so well, + He four such men as Andrew could repel; + In quest of succour howsoe'er he went: + To kill him surely William never meant, + But only take an ear, or what the Turks, + Those savage beasts, cut off from Nature's works; + Which doubtless must be infinitely worse + Infernal practice and continual curse. + 'Twas this he whispered should be Andrew's doom, + When with his easy wife he left the room; + She nothing durst reply: the door he shut, + And our gallant 'gan presently to strut, + Around and round, believing all was right, + And William unacquainted with his plight. + + THE latter having well the project weighed, + Now changed his plan, and other schemes surveyed; + Proposed within himself revenge to take, + With less parade:--less noise it then would make, + And better fruit the action would produce, + Than if he were apparently profuse. + Said he to Alice, go and seek his wife; + To her relate the whole that caused our strife; + Minutely all from first to last detail; + And then the better on her to prevail, + To hasten here, you'll hint that you have fears, + That Andrew risks the loss of--more than ears, + For I have punishment severe in view, + Which greatly she must wish I should not do; + But if an ear-maker, like this, is caught, + The worst of chastisement is always sought; + Such horrid things as scarcely can be said: + They make the hair to stand upon the head; + That he's upon the point of suff'ring straight, + And only for her presence things await; + That though she cannot all proceedings stay, + Perhaps she may some portion take away. + Go, bring her instantly, haste quickly, run; + And, if she comes, I'll pardon what's been done. + + WITH joy to Andrew's house fair Alice went; + The wife to follow her appeared content; + Quite out of breath, alone she ran up stairs, + And, not perceiving him who shared her cares; + Believed he was imprisoned in a room; + And while with fear she trembled for his doom; + The master (having laid aside his arms) + Now came to compliment the lady's charms; + He gave the belle a chair, who looked most nice:-- + Said he, ingratitude's the worst of vice; + To me your husband has been wondrous kind; + So many services has done I find, + That, ere you leave this house, I'd wish to make + A little return, and this you will partake. + When I was absent from my loving dear, + Obligingly he made her babe an ear. + The compliment of course I must admire; + Retaliation is what I desire, + And I've a thought:--your children all have got + The nose a little short, which is a blot; + A fault within the mould no doubt's the cause, + Which I can mend, and any other flaws. + The business now let's execute I pray, + On which the dame he took without delay, + And placed her near where Andrew hid his head, + Then 'gan to operate as he was led. + + THE lady patiently his process bore, + And blessed her stars that Andrew's risk was o'er + That she had thus the dire return received, + And saved the man for whom her bosom grieved. + So much emotion William seemed to feel, + No grace he gave, but all performed with zeal; + Retaliated ev'ry way so well, + He measure gave for measure:--ell for ell. + How true the adage, that revenge is sweet! + The plan he followed clearly was discrete; + For since he wished his honour to repair:-- + Of any better way I'm not aware. + + THE whole without a murmur Andrew viewed, + And thanked kind Heav'n that nothing worse ensued; + One ear most readily he would have lost, + Could he be certain that would pay the cost. + He thought 'twould lucky be, could he get out, + For all considered, better 'twere no doubt, + Howe'er ridiculous the thing appears, + To have a pair of horns than lose his ears. + + + + + + + THE RIVER SCAMANDER + + + I'M now disposed to give a pretty tale; + Love laughs at what I've sworn and will prevail; + Men, gods, and all, his mighty influence know, + And full obedience to the urchin show. + In future when I celebrate his flame, + Expressions not so warm will be my aim; + I would not willingly abuses plant, + But rather let my writings spirit want. + If in these verses I around should twirl, + Some wily knave and easy simple girl, + 'Tis with intention in the breast to place; + On such occasions, dread of dire disgrace; + The mind to open, and the sex to set + Upon their guard 'gainst snares so often met. + Gross ignorance a thousand has misled, + For one that has been hurt by what I've said. + + I'VE read that once, an orator renowned + In Greece, where arts superior then were found, + By law's severe decree, compelled to quit + His country, and to banishment submit, + Resolved that he a season would employ, + In visiting the site of ancient Troy. + His comrade, Cymon, with him thither went, + To view those ruins, we so oft lament. + A hamlet had been raised from Ilion's wall, + Ennobled by misfortune and its fall; + Where now mere names are Priam and his court; + Of all devouring Time the prey and sport. + + O TROY! for me thy very name has got + Superior charms:--in story fruitful spot; + Thy famed remains I ne'er can hope to view, + That gods by labour raised, and gods o'erthrew; + Those fields where daring acts of valour shone; + So many fights were lost:--so many won. + + BUT to resume my thread, and not extend + Too much the subjects which our plan suspend; + This Cymon, who's the hero of our tale, + When walking near the banks that form the dale + Through which Scamander's waters freely flow, + Observed a youthful charmer thither go, + To breathe the cool refreshing breeze around; + That on its verdant borders oft she'd found. + Her veil was floating, and her artless dress, + A shepherdess seemed clearly to express. + Tall, elegantly formed, with beauteous mien, + And ev'ry feature lovely to be seen, + Young Cymon felt emotion and surprise, + And thought 'twas Venus that had caught his eyes, + Who on the river's side her charms displayed, + Those wondrous treasures all perfection made. + + A GROT was nigh, to which the simple fair, + Not dreaming ills, was anxious to repair; + The heat, some evil spirit, and the place, + Invited her the moment to embrace, + To bathe within the stream that near her ran; + And instantly her project she began. + + THE spark concealed himself; each charm admired; + Now this, now that, now t'other feature fired; + A hundred beauties caught his eager sight; + And while his bosom felt supreme delight, + He turned his thoughts advantages to take, + And of the maiden's error something make; + Assumed the character, and dress; and air; + That should a wat'ry deity declare; + Within the gliding flood his vestments dipt: + A crown of rushes on his head he slipt; + Aquatick herbs and plants around he twined: + Then Mercury intreated to be kind, + And Cupid too, the wily god of hearts; + How could the innocent resist these arts? + + AT length a foot so fair the belle exposed, + E'en Galatea never such disclosed; + The stream, that glided by, received the prize; + Her lilies she beheld with downcast eyes, + And, half ashamed, herself surveyed at ease, + While round the zephyrs wantoned in the breeze. + + WHEN thus engaged, the lover near her drew; + At whose approach away the damsel flew, + And tried to hide within the rocky cell; + Cried Cymon, I beneath these waters dwell, + And o'er their course a sov'reign right maintain; + Be goddess of the flood, and with me reign; + Few rivers could with you like pow'rs divide; + My crystal's clear: in me you may confide; + My heart is pure; with flow'rs I'll deck the stream, + If worthy of yourself the flood you deem; + Too happy should this honour you bestow, + And with me, 'neath the current, freely go. + Your fair companions, ev'ry one I'll make + A nymph of fountains, hill, or grove, or lake; + My pow'r is great, extending far around + Where'er the eye can reach, 'tis fully found. + + THE eloquence he used, her fears and dread; + Lest she might give offence by what she said, + In spite of bashfulness that bliss alloys, + Soon all concluded with celestial joys. + 'Tis even said that Cupid lent supplies; + From superstition many things arise. + + THE spark withdrew, delighted by success; + Return said he:--we'll mutually caress; + But secret prove: let none our union learn; + Concealment is to me of high concern; + To make it publick would improper be, + Till on Olympus' mount the gods we see, + In council met, to whom I'll state the case; + On this the new-made goddess left the place, + In ev'ry thing contented as a dove, + And fully witnessed by the god of love. + Two months had passed, and not a person knew + Their frequent meetings, pleasure to pursue. + O mortals! is it true, as we are told, + That ev'ry bliss at last is rendered cold? + The sly gallant, though not a word he said, + The grot to visit now was rarely led. + + AT length a wedding much attention caught; + The lads and lasses of the hamlet sought, + To see the couple pass: the belle perceived + The very man for whom her bosom heaved, + And loudly cried, behold Scamander's flood! + Which raised surprise; soon numbers round her stood, + Astonishment expressed, but still the fair, + Whate'er was asked, would nothing more declare, + Than, in the spacious, blue, ethereal sky, + Her marriage would be soon, they might rely. + A laugh prevailed; for what was to be done? + The god with hasty steps away had run, + And none with stones pursued his rapid flight: + The deity was quickly ought of sight. + + WERE this to happen now, Scamander's stream + Would not so easily preserve esteem; + But crimes like these (whoever was abused), + In former days, were easily excused. + With time our maxims change, and what was then, + Though wrong at present, may prevail agen. + Scamander's spouse some raillery received; + But in the end she fully was relieved: + A lover e'en superior thought her charms, + (His taste was such) and took her to his arms. + The gods can nothing spoil! but should they cause + A belle to lose a portion of applause, + A handsome fortune give, and you'll behold, + That ev'ry thing can be repaired by gold. + + + + + + + A CONFIDANT WITHOUT KNOWING IT; + OR + THE STRATAGEM + + + NO master sage, nor orator I know, + Who can success, like gentle Cupid show; + His ways and arguments are pleasing smiles, + Engaging looks, soft tears, and winning wiles. + Wars in his empire will at times arise, + And, in the field, his standard meet the eyes; + Now stealing secretly, with skilful lure. + He penetrates to hearts supposed secure, + O'erleaps the ramparts that protect around, + And citadels reduces, most renowned. + + I DARE engage, two fortresses besiege + Leave one to Mars, and t'other to this liege. + And though the god of war should numbers bring, + With all the arms that can his thunders fling, + Before the fort he'll vainly waste his time, + While Cupid, unattended, in shall climb, + Obtain possession perfectly at ease, + And grant conditions just as he shall please. + + I NOW propose to give a fav'rite tale:-- + The god of Love was never known to fail, + In finding stratagems, as I have read, + And many have I seen most nicely spread. + + THE young Aminta was Gerontes' wife, + With whom she lived, it seems, a wretched life. + Far better she deserved than what she had, + For he was jealous, and his temper bad: + An aged hunks, while she was in the hour + When hearts, that never felt LOVE'S mighty pow'r, + Are presently by tender objects caught, + Which ne'er before had entered in the thought. + + WHEN first Aminta saw young Cleon's face, + A lad possessing all engaging grace, + Much prudence then she ev'ry way displayed, + E'en more perhaps than necessary made. + For though we may suppose the lovely fair, + Would ev'ry effort use to 'scape the snare, + Yet when the god of soft persuasion takes + The fatal moment, havock soon he makes, + In vain his duty, any thing opposed, + If once the tender sentiment's disclosed. + Aminta consolation had in view + 'Twas that alone the passion from her drew, + A meeting innocent, to vent her tears, + And, to a feeling friend, express her fears. + 'Tis represented thus I cannot doubt; + But sight of meat brings appetite about; + And if you would avoid the tempting bit, + 'Tis better far at table not to sit. + + AMINTA hoped to render Cleon kind; + Poor innocent! as yet to dangers blind, + These conversations she was led to deem, + Mere friendly ways that raised sincere esteem; + And this alone she ardently desired, + Without supposing more would be required, + Or any thing improper be the case: + She'd rather die than suffer such disgrace. + 'Twas difficult the business to commence; + A letter 's often lost, or gives offence, + And many serious accidents arrive: + To have a confidant 'twere better strive; + But where could such a female friend be found? + Gerontes dreaded was by all around. + I've said already, Cupid will obtain, + One way or t'other, what he wants to gain; + And this will show the observation just + The maxim's such as you may always trust. + + A FEMALE relative young Cleon had, + A peevish prude, who looked upon the lad, + As one she had a right to rule and scold; + Her name was Mistress Alice: sour and old. + + ONE summer's day, Aminta to her said: + I cannot think how 'tis, your cousin's led, + (Though quite indifferent he is to me, + And doubtless such will ever prove to be) + With various fond attentions, to pretend, + He loves me--much beyond a common friend. + My window oft he passes day and night; + I cannot move a step, but he's in sight, + And in a moment at my heels appears; + Notes, letters full of soft expressions, dears, + To me are sent by one I will not name, + For known to you, she would be thought to blame: + Pray put an end to such a wild pursuit + It nothing can produce but wretched fruit; + My husband may take fire at things like these; + And as to Cleon.--me he'll never please; + I'll thank you to inform him what I say; + Such steps are useless: folly they betray. + + MUCH praise Aminta from the dame received; + Who promised that the conduct, which aggrieved; + To Cleon she would mention, as desired, + And reprimand him, as the fault required: + So well would scold him, that she might be sure, + From him in future she would be secure. + + THE foll'wing day our youth to Alice came; + To pay a visit solely was his aim; + She told him what Aminta had declared, + And, in her lecture, words by no means spared. + The lad, surprised, on oath the whole denied, + And vowed to gain her love, he never tried. + Old Alice called her cousin, imp of Hell; + Said she, in all that's wicked, you excel; + You will not all your base designs confess; + The oaths are false on which you lay such stress, + And punishment most richly you deserve; + But false or true, from this I will not swerve, + That you should recollect, Aminta 's chaste, + And never will submit to be disgraced; + Renounce her from this hour; no more pursue:-- + That easily, said Cleon, I can do; + Away he went: the case considered o'er; + But still the myst'ry he could not explore. + + THREE days had scarcely passed: Aminta came, + To pay a visit to our ancient dame; + Cried she I fear, you have not seen as yet, + This youth, who worse and worse appears to get. + Rage, Mistress Alice, instantly o'erspread, + And ev'ry thing that's vile she of him said. + + NO sooner had Aminta gone away, + But she for Cleon sent without delay. + He presently appeared; yet to detail + How Alice stormed, I certainly should fail; + Unless an iron tongue I could obtain: + All Hell was ransacked epithets to gain; + And Lucifer and Beelzebub were used: + No mortal ever was so much abused. + + QUITE terrified, poor lad, he scarcely knew; + Her fury was so great, what best to do; + If he allowed that he had acted wrong, + 'Twould wound his conscience and defile his tongue. + He home repaired, and turning in his mind + What he had heard, at length his thoughts inclined, + To fancy that Aminta was disposed, + To play some cunning trick, which, not disclosed, + Would operate to bring her wish about; + I see, said he, the scheme I should not doubt; + It surely is my duty kind to be: + Methinks I hear her freely say to me, + O Cleon! show affection, I am yours; + I love her too, for beauty that secures; + And while her seraph charms my bosom fire; + I equally the stratagem admire. + Most freely howsoe'er I will confess, + At first I was so dull, I could not guess + At what she aimed, but now the object's plain: + Aminta o'er my heart desires to reign. + + THIS minute, if I durst, I'd thither go, + And, full of confidence, declare my woe, + The subtle flame that burns without controul; + What hurt to paint feelings of my soul? + From balance of accounts 'twill both exempt: + 'Tis better far to love than show contempt. + But should the husband find me in the house?-- + Ne'er think of that, and try the hunks to chouse. + + THEIR course had hardly run three other days, + When fair Aminta, studious still of ways + To have her wish, again to Alice came, + To give dear Cleon notice of her flame. + My home, cried she, 'tis requisite I leave: + To ruin me, your cousin, I perceive, + Is still resolved, for presents now he sends; + But he mistakes, and blindly wealth expends; + I'm clearly not the woman he suspects: + See here, what jewels rare to please the sex! + Nice rubies, diamonds too, but what is more, + My portrait I have found among the store, + Which must have been from memory designed, + Since only with my husband that you'll find. + + WHEN I arose, this person known to you, + Whose name I must conceal (to honour true), + Arrived and brought me what I just have shown; + The whole should at your cousin's head be thrown; + And were he present:--but I'll curb my rage; + Allow me to proceed, and you engage + To hear the rest:--he word has also sent, + That as to-day he knew my husband went + On business to his cottage in the wood, + Where he would sleep the night, he understood, + No sooner should the servants be in bed, + And Morpheus' robe be o'er their senses spread, + But to my dressing room he would repair:-- + What can he hope, such project to declare? + A meeting place indeed!--he must be mad; + Were I not fearful 'twould affliction add + To my old husband, I would set a watch, + Who, at the entrance, should the villain catch; + Or put him instantly to shame and flight; + This said, she presently was out of sight. + + AN hour had passed when Cleon came anew; + The jewels at him in a moment flew; + And scarcely Mistress Alice could refrain, + From wreaking further vengeance on the swain. + Is this your plan? cried she; but what is worse, + I find you still desire a greater curse; + And then she told him all Aminta said, + When last to visit her the fair was led. + + HIMSELF most fully warned the youth now thought; + I loved, cried he, 'tis true; but that is naught, + Since nothing from the belle I must expect: + In future her completely I'll neglect. + That is the line, said Alice, you should take; + The lad howe'er was fully now awake, + And thoroughly resolved to seek the dame, + Whose cunning wiles had set him in a flame. + + THE midnight hour the clock no sooner told; + Than Cleon ran the myst'ry to unfold, + And to the spot repaired, which he supposed, + Aminta meant, from what had been disclosed; + The place was well described, and there he found; + Awaiting at the door, this belle renowned, + Without attendants: sleep their eyes o'erspread: + Behind thick clouds the very stars had fled: + As all had been expected, in he went, + Most thoroughly they both appeared content; + Few words were used: in haste the pair withdrew, + Where ev'ry wish at ease they might pursue. + The smart gallant at once her beauty praised; + His admiration presently was raised; + Sweet kindness followed; charms were oft admired; + And all was managed as their hearts desired. + + SAID youthful Cleon, now you'll tell me why + This stratagem you were induced to try? + For such before in love was never seen; + 'Tis excellent, and worthy Beauty's queen. + A lovely blush o'erspread Aminta's face, + And gave her lily-cheeks superior grace. + He praised her person, artifice, and wit, + And did whate'er the moments would admit. + + + + + + + THE CLYSTER + + + IF truth give pleasure, surely we should try; + To found our tales on what we can rely; + Th' experiment repeatedly I've made, + And seen how much realities persuade: + They draw attention: confidence awake; + Fictitious names however we should take, + And then the rest detail without disguise: + 'Tis thus I mean to manage my supplies. + + IT happened then near Mans, a Normand town, + For sapient people always of renown, + A maid not long ago a lover had + Brisk, pleasing, ev'ry way a handsome lad; + The down as yet was scarcely on his chin; + The girl was such as many wished to win: + Had charms and fortune, all that was desired, + And by the Mansian sparks was much admired; + Around they swarmed, but vain was all their art + Too much our youth possessed the damsel's heart. + + THE parents, in their wisdom, meant the fair + Should marry one who was a wealthy heir; + But she contrived to manage matters well; + In spite of ev'ry thing which might repel, + (I know not how) at length he had access; + Though whether through indulgence or address, + It matters not: perhaps his noble blood + Might work a change when fully understood: + The LUCKY, ev'ry thing contrives to please; + The rest can nothing but misfortune seize. + + THE lover had success; the parents thought + His merit such as prudence would have sought; + What more to wish?--the miser's hoarded store: + The golden age's wealth is now no more, + A silly shadow, phantom of the brain; + O happy time! I see indeed with pain, + Thou wilt return:--in MAINE thou shalt arise; + Thy innocence, we fondly may surmise, + Had seconded our lover's ardent flame, + And hastened his possession of the dame. + + THE slowness usually in parents found, + Induced the girl, whose heart by LOVE was bound; + To celebrate the Hymeneal scene, + As in the statutes of Cythera's queen. + Our legendary writers this define + A present contract, where they nothing sign; + The thing is common;--marriage made in haste: + LOVE'S perparation: Hymen's bit for taste. + + + NOT much examination Cupid made, + As parent, lawyer, priest, he lent his aid, + And soon concluded matters as desired; + The Mansian wisdom no ways was required. + + OUR spark was satisfied, and with his belle, + Passed nights so happy, nothing could excel; + 'Twere easy to explain;--the double keys, + And gifts designed the chambermaid to please, + Made all secure, and ev'ry joy abound; + The soft delights with secrecy were crowned. + + IT happened that our fair one evening said, + To her who of each infant step had led, + But of the present secret nothing knew:-- + I feel unwell; pray tell me what to do. + The other answered, you my dear must take + A remedy that easily I'll make, + A clyster you shall have to-morrow morn: + By me most willingly it will be borne. + + WHEN midnight came the sly gallant appeared, + Unluckily no doubt, but he revered + The moments that so pleasantly were passed, + Which always seemed, he thought, to glide too fast; + Relief he sought, for ev'ry one below + Is destined torments more or less to know. + He not a word was told of things designed, + And just as our gallant to sleep inclined, + As oft's the case at length with lovers true, + Quite open bright Aurora's portals flew, + And with a smile the aged dame arrived; + The apparatus properly contrived, + Was in her hand, she hastened to the bed, + And took the side that to the stripling led. + + OUR lady fair was instantly confused, + Or she precaution properly had used, + 'Twas easy to have kept a steady face, + And 'neath the clothes the other's head to place. + Pass presently beyond the hidden swain, + And t'other side with rapid motion gain, + A thing quite natural, we should suppose; + But fears o'erpow'red; the frightened damsel chose + To hide herself, then whispered her gallant, + What mighty terrors made her bosom pant. + The youth was sage, and coolly undertook + To offer for her:--t'other 'gan to look, + With spectacles on nose: soon all went right; + Adieu, she cried, and then withdrew from sight. + Heav'n guard her steps, and all conduct away, + Whose presence secret friendships would betray: + + SHOULD this be thought a silly, idle tale; + (And that opinion may perhaps prevail) + To censure me, enough will surely try, + For criticks are severe, and these will cry, + Your lady like a simpleton escaped; + Her character you better might have shaped; + Which makes us doubt the truth of what is told: + Naught in your prologue like it we behold. + + 'TWERE sueless to reply: 'twould endless prove: + No arguments such censurers could move; + On men like these, devoid of sense or taste, + In vain might Cicero his rhet'rick waste. + Sufficient 'tis for me, that what is here, + I got from those who ev'ry-where appear + The friends of truth:--let others say the same; + What more would they expect should be my aim? + + + + + + + THE INDISCREET CONFESSIONS + + + FAMED Paris ne'er within its walls had got, + Such magick charms as were Aminta's lot, + Youth, beauty, temper, fortune, she possessed, + And all that should a husband render blessed, + The mother still retained her 'neath the wing; + Her father's riches well might lovers bring; + Whate'er his daughter wished, he would provide, + Amusements, jewels, dress, and much beside. + + BLITHE Damon for her having felt the dart, + The belle received the offer of his heart; + So well he managed and expressed his flame. + That soon her lord and master he became, + By Hymen's right divine, you may conceive, + And nothing short of it you should believe. + + A YEAR had passed, and still our charming pair, + Were always pleased, and blisses seemed to share; + (The honeymoon appeared but just began) + And hopes were entertained to have a son, + When Damon on the subject chanced to touch: + In truth, said he, my soul is troubled much; + There is a fact, my dear, to you I'll tell: + I wish sincerely (since I love so well) + That for another, I had never known + Such fond affection as to you I've shown; + And none but you had entered in my breast, + So worthy ev'ry way to be caressed. + I have howe'er experienced other flame; + The fault's acknowledged: I confess my shame. + 'Twas in a wood; the nymph was young and nice, + And Cupid only near to give advice; + So well he managed:--or so ill, you'll say; + A little girl I've living at this day. + + WHAT, cried Aminta, now to you I'll state; + What happened once to be your spouse's fate; + I was at home alone, to say the truth, + When thither came by chance a sprightly youth. + The lad was handsome, with engaging mien; + I felt his worth:--my nature is serene; + In short so many things were our employ, + I've still upon my hands a little boy. + + THESE words no sooner had escaped the belle, + Than Damon into jealous torments fell; + With rage he left the room; and on his way, + A large pack-saddle near his footsteps lay, + Which on his back he put, then cried aloud, + I'm saddled! see; round quickly came a crowd; + The father, mother, all the servants ran; + The neighbours too; the husband then began + To state the circumstance that gave him pain; + And fully all the folly to explain. + + THE reader must not fail to keep in mind; + Aminta's parents were both rich and kind, + And having only her to be their heir, + The aged couple let the youthful pair, + With all their train, within the house reside, + And tranquilly the moments seemed to glide. + + THU mother fondly to her daughter flew; + The father followed, keeping her in view; + The dame went in, but he remained without: + To listen he designed beyond a doubt; + The door was on the jar; the sage drew near; + In short, to all they said, he lent an ear; + The lady thus he heard reproach her child: + You're clearly wrong; most silly may be styled; + I've many simpletons and ninnies seen; + But such as you before there ne'er has been: + Who'd have believed you indiscreet like this? + Who forced you to reveal what was amiss? + What obligation to divulge the fact? + More girls than one have failed to be exact; + The Devil's crafty; folks are wicked too; + But that is no excuse, however true; + In convents all of us should be immured, + Till perfectly by Hymen's bands secured. + + E'EN I who speak, alas! have troubles met; + Within my bosom oft I feel regret; + Three children ere my marriage I had got; + Have I your father told this secret blot? + Have we together been less happy found? + The list'ner had no sooner heard the sound, + But like a man distracted off he flew; + The saddle's girth, which hazard near him threw; + He took and fastened tightly 'bout his waist, + Then bawled around and round with anxious haste; + I'm girth'd! d'ye see, completely taken in; + The people stared, an 'gan to laugh and grin. + Though each was conscious, if the truth were known; + The ridicule in turn might be his own. + + BOTH husbands madly ran from cross to square, + And with their foolish clamours rent the air; + I'm saddled, hooted one; I'm girth'd, said this; + The latter some perhaps will doubt, and hiss; + Such things however should not be disbelieved + For instance, recollect (what's well received), + When Roland learned the pleasures and the charms; + His rival, in the grot, had in his arms, + With fist he gave his horse so hard a blow, + It sunk at once to realms of poignant woe. + Might he not, training, round the hapless beast, + From weight of saddle have its back released, + And putting it upon his own, have cried, + I'm saddled, I'm girth'd, and much beside; + (No matter this or that, since each is good,) + Which Echo would repeat from hill to wood? + You see that truth may be discovered here; + That's not enough; its object should appear; + And that I'll show as further we proceed; + Your full attention I of course shall need. + + THE happy Damon clearly seems to me, + As poor a thing as any we shall see; + His confidence would soon have spoiled the whole, + To leave a belle like this without control! + Her simplicity I much admire:-- + Confess herself to spouse, as if a friar! + What silliness! imprudence is a word, + Which here to use would truly be absurd. + To my discourse two heads alone remain; + The marriage vow you always should maintain; + Its faith the pair should ever keep in view: + The path of honour steadily pursue. + If some mishap howe'er should chance to glide; + And make you limp on one or t'other side, + Endeavour, of the fault, to make the best, + And keep the secret locked within your breast; + Your own consideration never lose; + Untruth 'tis pardonable then to use. + + No doubt my pages nice advice supply; + Is't what I've followed?--No, you may rely! + + + + + + + THE CONTRACT + + + THE husband's dire mishap, and silly maid, + In ev'ry age, have proved the fable's aid; + The fertile subject never will be dry: + 'Tis inexhaustible, you may rely. + No man's exempt from evils such as these:-- + Who thinks himself secure, but little sees. + One laughs at sly intrigues who, ere 'tis long, + May, in his turn, be sneered at by the throng: + With such vicissitudes, to be cast down, + Appears rank nonsense worthy Folly's crown. + He, whose adventures I'm about to write, + In his mischances,--found what gave delight. + + A CERTAIN Citizen, with fortune large, + When settled with a handsome wife in charge, + Not long attended for the marriage fruit: + The lady soon put matters 'yond dispute; + Produced a girl at first, and then a boy, + To fill th' expecting parent's breast with joy. + + THE son, when grown of size, a tutor had, + No pedant rude, with Greek and Latin mad, + But young and smart, a master too of arts, + Particularly learned in what imparts, + The gentle flame, the pleasing poignant pang, + That Ovid formerly so sweetly sang. + Some knowledge of good company he'd got; + A charming voice and manner were his lot; + And if we may disclose the mystick truth, + 'Twas Cupid who preceptor made the youth. + He with the brother solely took a place, + That better he the sister's charms might trace; + And under this disguise he fully gained + What he desired, so well his part he feigned: + An able master, or a lover true, + To teach or sigh, whichever was in view, + So thoroughly he could attention get, + Success alike in ev'ry thing he met. + + IN little time the boy could construe well + The odes of Horace:--Virgil's fable tell; + And she whose beauty caught the tutor's eyes, + A perfect mistress got of heaving sighs. + So oft she practised what the master taught, + Her stomach feeble grew, whate'er was sought; + And strange suspicions of the cause arose, + Which Time at length was driven to disclose. + + MOST terribly the father raged and swore; + Our learned master, frightened, left the door, + The lady wished to take the youth for life; + The spark desired to make the girl his wife; + Both had the Hymeneal knot in view, + And mutual soft affection fondly knew. + At present love is little more than name: + In matrimony, gold's the only aim. + The belle was rich, while he had nothing got; + For him 'twas great:--for her a narrow lot. + + O DIRE corruption, age of wretched ways! + What strange caprice such management displays! + Shall we permit this fatal pow'r to reign? + Base int'rest's impulse: hideous modern stain; + The curse of ev'ry tender soft delight, + That charms the soul and fascinates the sight. + + BUT truce to moral; let's our tale resume; + The daughter scared; the father in a fume; + What could be done the evil to repair, + And hide the sad misfortune of the fair? + What method seek?--They married her in haste; + But not to him who had the belle debased, + For reasons I've sufficiently detailed; + To gain her hand a certain wight prevailed, + Who store of riches relished far above + The charms of beauty, warmed with fondest love. + Save this the man might well enough be thought: + In family and wealth just what was sought; + But whether fool or not, I cannot trace, + Since he was unacquainted with the case; + And if he'd known it, was the bargain bad? + Full twenty thousand pounds he with her had + A sprightly youthful wife to ease his care, + And with him ev'ry luxury to share. + + HOW many tempted by the golden ore, + Have taken wives whose slips they know before; + And this good man the lady chaste believed, + So truly well she managed and deceived. + But when four months had passed, the fair-one showed. + How very much she to her lessons owed; + A little girl arrived: the husband stared + Cried he, what father of a child declared! + The time's too short: four months! I'm taken in! + A family should not so soon begin. + + AWAY he to the lady's father flew, + And of his shame a horrid picture drew; + Proposed to be divorced: much rage disclosed; + The parent smiled and said, pray be composed; + Speak not so loud: we may be overheard, + And privacy is much to be preferred. + A son-in-law, like you, I once appeared, + And similar misfortune justly feared; + Complaint I made, and mentioned a divorce; + Of heat and rage the ordinary course. + + THE father of my wife, who's now no more, + (Heav'n guard his soul, the loss I oft deplore,) + A prudent honest man as any round, + To calm my mind, a nice specifick found; + The pill was rather bitter, I admit; + But gilding made it for the stomach fit, + Which he knew how to manage very well: + No doctor in it him could e'er excel; + To satisfy my scruples he displayed + A CONTRACT (duly stamped and ably made), + Four thousand to secure, which he had got, + On similar occasion for a blot; + His lady's father gave it to efface + Domestick diff'rences and like disgrace: + With this my spouse's fortune he increased; + And instantly my dire complaining ceased. + From family to family the deed + Should pass, 'twill often prove a useful meed; + I kept it for the purpose:--do the same + Your daughter, married, may have equal blame. + On this the son-in-law the bond received, + And, with a bow, departed much relieved. + + MAY Heav'n preserve from trouble those who find, + At cheaper rate, to be consoled inclined. + + + + + + + THE QUID PRO QUO; + OR + THE MISTAKES + + + DAME FORTUNE often loves a laugh to raise, + And, playing off her tricks and roguish ways, + Instead of giving us what we desire, + Mere quid pro quo permits us to acquire. + I've found her gambols such from first to last, + And judge the future by experience past. + Fair Cloris and myself felt mutual flame; + And, when a year had run, the sprightly dame + Prepared to grant me, if I may be plain, + Some slight concessions that would ease my pain. + This was her aim; but whatsoe'er in view, + 'Tis opportunity we should pursue; + The lover, who's discreet, will moments seize; + And ev'ry effort then will tend to please. + + ONE eve I went this charming fair to see; + The husband happened (luckily for me) + To be abroad; but just as it was night + The master came, not doubting all was right; + No Cloris howsoe'er was in the way; + A servant girl, of disposition gay, + Well known to me, with pretty smiling face, + 'Tis said, was led to take her lady's place. + The mistress' loss for once was thus repaid; + The barter mutual:--wife against the maid. + + WITH many tales like this the books abound; + But able hands are necessary found, + To place the incidents, arrange the whole, + That nothing may be forced nor feel control. + The urchin blind, who sees enough to lay + His num'rous snares, such tricks will often play. + The CRADLE in Boccace excels the most, + As to myself I do not mean to boast, + But fear, a thousand places, spite of toil, + By him made excellent, my labours spoil. + 'Tis time howe'er with preface to have done, + And show, by some new turn, or piece of fun, + (While easy numbers from my pencil flow,) + Of Fortune and of Love the quid pro quo. + In proof, we'll state what happened at Marseilles: + The story is so true, no doubt prevails. + + THERE Clidamant, whose proper name my verse, + Prom high respect, refuses to rehearse, + Lived much at ease: not one a wife had got, + Throughout the realm, who was so nice a lot, + Her virtues, temper, and seraphick charms, + Should have secured the husband to her arms; + But he was not to constancy inclined; + The devil's crafty; snares has often twined + Around and round, with ev'ry subtle art, + When love of novelty he would impart. + + THE lady had a maid, whose form and size, + Height, easy manners, action, lips, and eyes, + Were thought to be so very like her own, + That one from t'other scarcely could be known; + The mistress was the prettiest of the two; + But, in a mask where much escapes the view, + 'Twas very difficult a choice to make, + And feel no doubts which better 'twere to take. + + THE Marseillesian husband, rather gay, + With mistress Alice was disposed to play; + (For such was called the maid we just have named;) + To show coquettish airs the latter aimed, + And met his wishes with reproof severe; + But to his plan the lover would adhere, + And promised her at length a pretty sum: + A hundred crowns, if to his room she'd come. + To pay the girl with kindness such as this, + In my opinion, was not much amiss. + At that rate what should be the mistress' price? + Perhaps still less: she might not be so nice. + But I mistake; the lady was so coy, + No spark, whatever art he could employ, + How cleverly soe'er he laid the snare, + Would have succeeded, spite of ev'ry care. + Nor presents nor attentions would have swayed; + Should I have mentioned presents as an aid? + Alas! no longer these are days of old! + By Love both nymph and shepherdess are sold; + He sets the price of many beauties rare; + This was a god;--now nothing but a mayor. + + O ALTERED times! O customs how depraved! + At first fair Alice frowardly behaved; + But in the sequel 'gan to change her way, + And said, her mistress, as the foll'wing day, + A certain remedy to take designed; + That, in the morning then, if so inclined, + They could at leisure in the cavern meet;-- + The plan was pleasing: all appeared discreet. + + THE servant, having to her mistress said, + What projects were in view: what nets were spread; + The females, 'tween themselves, a plot contrived, + Of Quid pro quo, against the hour arrived. + The husband of the trick was ne'er aware, + So much the mistress had her servant's air; + But if he had, what then? no harm of course; + She might have lectured him with double force. + + NEXT day but one, gay Clidamant, whose joy + Appeared so great, 'twas free from all alloy, + By hazard met a friend, to whom he told + (Most indiscreetly) what to him was sold; + How Cupid favoured what he most required, + And freely granted all he had desired. + Though large the blessing, yet he grudged the cost; + The sum gave pain: a hundred crowns were lost! + The friend proposed they should at once decide, + The charge and pleasure 'tween them to divide. + Our husband thought his purse not over strong, + That saving fifty crowns would not be wrong. + But then, on t'other hand, to lend the fair, + In ev'ry view had got an awkward air; + Would she, as was proposed, consent to two? + To keep things secret would their lips be true? + Or was it fair to sacrifice her charms, + And lay her open thus to dire alarms? + + THE friend this difficulty soon removed, + And represented that the cavern proved + So very dark, the girl would be deceived; + With one more shrewd the trick might be achieved. + Sufficient howsoever it would be, + If they by turns, and silent, could agree + To meet the belle, and leave to Love the rest, + From whom they hoped assistance if distressed. + Such silence to observe no hurt could do, + And Alice would suppose, a prudent view + Retained the tongue, since walls have often ears, + And, being mum, expressive was of fears. + + WHEN thus the two gallants their plan had laid, + And ev'ry promised pleasure fully weighed, + They to the husband's mansion made their way, + Where yet the wife between the bed-clothes lay. + The servant girl was near her mistress found; + Her dress was plain: no finery around; + In short, 'twas such that, when the moment came; + To fail the meeting could not be her aim. + + THE friends disputed which the lead should take, + And strong pretentions both appeared to make; + The husband, honours home would not allow: + Such compliments were out of fashion now. + To settle this, at length three dice they took; + The friend was highest placed in Fortune's book. + The both together to the cavern flew, + And for the servant soon impatient grew; + But Alice never came, and in her room + The mistress, softly treading 'mid the gloom, + The necessary signal gently gave, + On which she entered presently the cave, + And this so suddenly, no time was found + To make remarks on change or errors round, + Or any diff'rence 'tween the friend and spouse; + In short, before suspicions 'gan to rouse, + Or alteration lent the senses aid:-- + To LOVE, a sacrifice was fully made. + The lucky wight more pleasure would have felt, + If sensible he'd been with whom he dealt: + The mistress rather more of beauty had, + And QUALITY of course must something add. + + THIS scene just ended, t'other actor came, + Whose prompt arrival much surprised the dame, + For, as a husband, Clidamant had ne'er + Such ardour shown, he seemed beyond his sphere. + The lady to the girl imputed this, + And thought, to hint it, would not be amiss. + + THE entertainment o'er, away they went + To quit the dark abode they were intent. + The partner in amour repaired above; + But when the husband saw his wedded love + Ascend the stairs, and she the friend perceived, + We well may judge how bosoms beat and heaved. + + THE master of the house conceived it best + To keep the whole a secret in his breast. + But to discover ALL, his lovely rib + Appeared disposed, though wives can often fib; + The silliest of the throng (or high or low), + Most perfectly the science seem to know. + + SOME will pretend that Alice, in her heart + Was sorry she had acted such a part, + And not a better method sought to gain + The money which had caused her master's pain; + Lamented much the case, and tried to please + By ev'ry means that might his trouble ease. + But this is merely with design to make + The tale a more impressive feature take. + + TWO questions may agitate around; + The one, if 'mong the brotherhood renowned, + The husband, who thus felt disgraced, + Should (with the usual ornaments) be placed? + But I no grounds for such conclusion see: + Both friend and wife were from suspicion free; + Of one another they had never thought, + Though in the mystick scene together brought. + The other is:--Should she, who was misused, + Have sought revenge for being so abused? + Though this sufficiently I have maintained, + The lady inconsolable remained. + + HEAV'N guard the FAIR, who meet with ills like these, + And nothing can their wounded minds appease: + I many know howe'er, who would but laugh, + And treat such accidents as light as chaff. + But I have done: no more of that or this; + May ev'ry belle receive her lot of bliss! + + + + + + + THE DRESS-MAKER + + + A CLOISTERED nun had a lover + Dwelling in the neighb'ring town; + Both racked their brains to discover + How they best their love might crown. + The swain to pass the convent-door!-- + No easy matter!--Thus they swore, + And wished it light.--I ne'er knew a nun + In such a pass to be outdone:-- + In woman's clothes the youth must dress, + And gain admission. I confess + The ruse has oft been tried before, + But it succeeded as of yore. + Together in a close barred cell + The lovers were, and sewed all day, + Nor heeded how time flew away.-- + "What's that I hear? Refection bell! + "'Tis time to part. Adieu!--Farewell!-- + "How's this?" exclaimed the abbess, "why + "The last at table?"--"Madam, I + "Have had my dress-maker."--"The rent + "On which you've both been so intent + "Is hard to stop, for the whole day + "To sew and mend, you made her stay; + "Much work indeed you've had to do! + "--Madam, 't would last the whole night through, + "When in our task we find enjoyment + "There is no end of the employment." + + + + + + + THE GASCON + + + I AM always inclined to suspect + The best story under the sun + As soon as by chance I detect + That teller and hero are one. + + We're all of us prone to conceit, + And like to proclaim our own glory, + But our purpose we're apt to defeat + As actors in chief of our story. + + To prove the truth of what I state + Let me an anecdote relate: + A Gascon with his comrade sat + At tavern drinking. This and that + He vaunted with assertion pat. + From gasconade to gasconade + Passed to the conquests he had made + In love. A buxom country maid, + Who served the wine, with due attention + Lent patient ear to each invention, + And pressed her hands against her side + Her bursting merriment to hide. + To hear our Gascon talk, no Sue + Nor Poll in town but that he knew; + With each he'd passed a blissful night + More to their own than his delight. + This one he loved for she was fair, + That for her glossy ebon hair. + One miss, to tame his cruel rigour, + Had brought him gifts.--She owned his vigour + In short it wanted but his gaze + To set each trembling heart ablaze. + His strength surpassed his luck,--the test-- + In one short night ten times he'd blessed + A dame who gratefully expressed + Her thanks with corresponding zest. + At this the maid burst forth, "What more? + "I never heard such lies before! + "Content were I if at that sport + "I had what that poor dame was short." + + + + + + + THE PITCHER + + + THE simple Jane was sent to bring + Fresh water from the neighb'ring spring; + The matter pressed, no time to waste, + Jane took her jug, and ran in haste + The well to reach, but in her flurry + (The more the speed the worse the hurry), + Tripped on a rolling stone, and broke + Her precious pitcher,--ah! no joke! + Nay, grave mishap! 'twere better far + To break her neck than such a jar! + Her dame would beat and soundly rate her, + No way could Jane propitiate her. + Without a sou new jug to buy! + 'Twere better far for her to die! + O'erwhelmed by grief and cruel fears + Unhappy Jane burst into tears + "I can't go home without the delf," + Sobbed Jane, "I'd rather kill myself; + "So here am I resolved to die." + A friendly neighbour passing by + O'erheard our damsel's lamentation; + And kindly offered consolation: + "If death, sweet maiden, be thy bent, + "I'll aid thee in thy sad intent." + Throwing her down, he drew his dirk, + And plunged it in the maid,--a work + You'll say was cruel,--not so Jane, + Who even seemed to like the pain, + And hoped to be thus stabbed again. + Amid the weary world's alarms, + For some e'en death will have its charms; + "If this, my friend, is how you kill, + "Of breaking jugs I'll have my fill!" + + + + + + + TO PROMISE IS ONE THING + TO KEEP IT, ANOTHER + + + JOHN courts Perrette; but all in vain; + Love's sweetest oaths, and tears, and sighs + All potent spells her heart to gain + The ardent lover vainly tries: + Fruitless his arts to make her waver, + She will not grant the smallest favour: + A ruse our youth resolved to try + The cruel air to mollify:-- + Holding his fingers ten outspread + To Perrette's gaze, and with no dread + "So often," said he, "can I prove, + "My sweet Perrette, how warm my love." + When lover's last avowals fail + To melt the maiden's coy suspicions + A lover's sign will oft prevail + To win the way to soft concessions: + Half won she takes the tempting bait; + Smiles on him, draws her lover nearer, + With heart no longer obdurate + She teaches him no more to fear her-- + A pinch,--a kiss,--a kindling eye,-- + Her melting glances,--nothing said.-- + John ceases not his suit to ply + Till his first finger's debt is paid. + A second, third and fourth he gains, + Takes breath, and e'en a fifth maintains. + But who could long such contest wage? + Not I, although of fitting age, + Nor John himself, for here he stopped, + And further effort sudden dropped. + Perrette, whose appetite increased + just as her lover's vigour ceased, + In her fond reckoning defeated, + Considered she was greatly cheated-- + If duty, well discharged, such blame + Deserve; for many a highborn dame + Would be content with such deceit. + But Perrette, as already told, + Out of her count, began to scold + And call poor John an arrant cheat + For promising and not performing. + John calmly listened to her storming, + And well content with work well done, + Thinking his laurels fairly won, + Cooly replied, on taking leave: + "No cause I see to fume and grieve; + "Or for such trifle to dispute; + "To promise and to execute + "Are not the same, be it confessed, + "Suffice it to have done one's best; + "With time I'll yet discharge what's due; + "Meanwhile, my sweet Perrette, adieu!" + + + + + + + THE NIGHTINGALE + + + NO easy matter 'tis to hold, + Against its owner's will, the fleece + Who troubled by the itching smart + Of Cupid's irritating dart, + Eager awaits some Jason bold + To grant release. + E'en dragon huge, or flaming steer, + When Jason's loved will cause no fear. + + Duennas, grating, bolt and lock, + All obstacles can naught avail; + Constraint is but a stumbling block; + For youthful ardour must prevail. + Girls are precocious nowadays, + Look at the men with ardent gaze, + And longings' an infinity; + Trim misses but just in their teens + By day and night devise the means + To dull with subtlety to sleep + The Argus vainly set to keep + In safety their virginity. + Sighs, smiles, false tears, they'll fain employ + An artless lover to decoy. + I'll say no more, but leave to you, + Friend reader, to pronounce if true + What I've asserted when you have heard + How artful Kitty, caged her bird. + + IN a small town in Italy, + The name of which I do not know, + Young Kitty dwelt, gay, pretty, free, + Varambon's child.--Boccacio + Omits her mother's name, which not + To you or me imports a jot. + At fourteen years our Kitty's charms + Were all that could be wished--plump arms, + A swelling bosom; on her cheeks + Roses' and lilies' mingled streaks, + A sparkling eye--all these, you know, + Speak well for what is found below. + With such advantages as these + No virgin sure could fail to please, + Or lack a lover; nor did Kate; + But little time she had to wait; + One soon appeared to seal her fate. + Young Richard saw her, loved her, wooed her-- + What swain I ask could have withstood her? + Soft words, caresses, tender glances, + The battery of love's advances, + Soon lit up in the maiden's breast + The flame which his own heart possessed, + Soon growing to a burning fire + Of love and mutual desire. + Desire for what? My reader knows, + Or if he does not may suppose, + And not be very wond'rous wise. + When youthful lovers mingle sighs, + Believe me, friend, I am not wrong, + For one thing only do they long. + One check deferred our lover's bliss, + A thing quite natural, 'twas this: + The mother loved so well her child + That, fearful she might be beguiled, + She would not let her out of sight, + A single minute, day or night. + At mother's apron string all day + Kate whiled the weary hours away, + And shared her bed all night. Such love + In parents we must all approve, + Though Catherine, I must confess, + In place of so much tenderness + More liberty would have preferred. + To little girls maternal care + In such excess is right and fair, + But for a lass of fourteen years, + For whom one need have no such fears, + Solicitude is quite absurd, + And only bores her. Kitty could + No moment steal, do what she would, + To see her Richard. Sorely vexed + She was, and he still more perplexed. + In spite of all he might devise + A squeeze, a kiss, quick talk of eyes + Was all he could obtain, no more. + Bread butterless, a sanded floor, + It seemed no better. Joy like this + Could not suffice, more sterling bliss + Our lovers wished, nor would stop short + Till they'd obtained the thing they sought. + And thus it came about. One day + By chance they met, alone, away + From jealous parents. "What's the use;" + Said Richard, "of all our affection? + "Of love it is a rank abuse, + "And yields me nothing but dejection + "I see you without seeing you, + "Must always look another way, + "And if we meet I dare not stay, + "Must ev'ry inclination smother. + "I can't believe your love is true; + "I'll never own you really kind + "Unless some certain means you find + "For us to meet without your mother." + Kate answered: "Were it not too plain + "How warm my love, another strain + "I would employ. In converse vain + "Let us not waste our moments few; + "But think what it were best to do." + "If you will please me," Robert said, + "You must contrive to change your bed, + "And have it placed--well, let me see-- + "Moved to the outer gallery, + "Where you will be alone and free. + "We there can meet and chat at leisure + "While others sleep, nor need we fear, + "Of merry tales I have a treasure + "To tell, but cannot tell them here." + Kate smiled at this for she knew well + What sort of tales he had to tell; + But promised she would do her best + And soon accomplish his request. + It was not easy, you'll admit, + But love lends foolish maidens wit; + And this is how she managed it. + The whole night long she kept awake, + Snored, sighed and kicked, as one possessed, + That parents both could get not rest, + So much she made the settle shake. + This is not strange. A longing girl, + With thoughts of sweetheart in her head, + In bed all night will sleepless twirl. + A flea is in her ear, 'tis said. + The morning broke. Of fleas and heat + Kitty complained. "Let me entreat, + "O mother, I may put my bed + "Out in the gallery," she said, + "'Tis cooler there, and Philomel + "Who warbles in the neigh'bring dell + "Will solace me." Ready consent + The simple mother gave, and went + To seek her spouse. "Our Kate, my dear, + "Will change her bed that she may hear + "The nightingale, and sleep more cool." + "Wife," said the good man, "You're a fool, + "And Kate too with her nightingale; + "Don't tell me such a foolish tale. + "She must remain. No doubt to-night + "Will fresher be. I sleep all right + "In spite of heat, and so can she. + "Is she more delicate than me?" + Incensed was Kate by this denial + After so promising a trial, + Nor would be beat, but firmly swore + To give more trouble than before. + That night again no wink she slept + But groaned and fretted, sighed and wept, + Upon her couch so tossed and turned, + The anxious mother quite concerned + Again her husband sought. "Our Kate + "To me seems greatly changed of late. + "You are unkind," she said to him, + "To thwart her simple, girlish whim. + "Why may she not her bed exchange, + "In naught will it the house derange? + "Placed in the passage she's as near + "To us as were she lying here. + "You do not love your child, and will + "With your unkindness make her ill." + "Pray cease," the husband cried, "to scold + "And take your whim. I ne'er could hold + "My own against a screaming wife; + "You'll drive me mad, upon my life. + "Her belly-full our Kate may get + "Of nightingale or of linnet." + The thing was settled. Kate obeyed, + And in a trice her bed was made, + And lover signalled. Who shall say + How long to both appeared that day, + That tedious day! But night arrived + And Richard too; he had contrived + By ladder, and a servant's aid, + To reach the chamber of the maid. + To tell how often they embraced, + How changed in form their tenderness, + Would lead to nothing but a waste + Of time, my readers will confess. + The longest, most abstruse discourse + Would lack precision, want the force + Their youthful ardour to portray. + To understand there's but one way-- + Experience. The nightingale + Sang all night long his pleasing tale, + And though he made but little noise, + The lass was satisfied. Her joys + So exquisite that she averred + The other nightingale, the bird + Who warbles to the woods his bliss, + Was but an ass compared with this. + But nature could not long maintain + Of efforts such as these the strain; + Their forces spent, the lovers twain + In fond embrace fell fast asleep + Just as the dawn began to peep: + The father as he left his bed + By curiosity was led + To learn if Kitty soundly slept, + And softly to the passage crept. + "I'll see the influence," he said, + "Of nightingale and change of bed." + With bated breath, upon tip toes, + Close to the couch he cautious goes + Where Kitty lay in calm repose. + Excessive heat had made all clothes + Unbearable. The sleeping pair + Had cast them off, and lay as bare + As our first happy parents were + In Paradise. But in the place + Of apple, in her willing hand + Kate firmly grasp the magic wand + Which served to found the human race, + The which to name were a disgrace, + Though dames the most refined employ it; + Desire it, and much enjoy it, + If good Catullus tells us true. + The father scarce believed his view, + But keeping in his bosom pent + His anger, to his wife he went, + And said, "Get up, and come with me. + "At present I can plainly see + "Why Kate had such anxiety + "To hear the nightingale, for she + "To catch the bird so well has planned + "That now she holds him in her hand." + The mother almost wept for glee. + "A nightingale, oh! let me see. + "How large is he, and can he sing, + "And will he breed, the pretty thing? + "How did she catch him, clever child?" + Despite his grief the good man smiled. + "Much more than you expect you'll see. + "But hold your tongue, and come with me; + "For if your chattering is heard, + "Away will fly the timid bird; + "And you will spoil our daughter's game." + Who was surprised? It was the dame. + Her anger burst into a flame + As she the nightingale espied + Which Kitty held; she could have cried, + And scolded, called her nasty slut, + And brazen hussey, bitch, and--but + Her husband stopped her. "What's the use + "Of all your scolding and abuse? + "The mischief's done, in vain may you + "From now till doomsday fret and stew, + "Misfortune done you can't undo, + "But something may be done to mend: + "For notary this instant send, + "Bid holy priest and mayor attend. + "For their good offices I wait + "To set this nasty matter straight." + As he discoursed, Richard awoke, + And seeing that the sun had broke, + These troubled words to Kitty spoke + "Alas, my love, 'tis broad day light, + "How can I now effect my flight?" + "All will go well," rejoined the sire, + "I will not grumble, my just ire + "Were useless here; you have committed + "A wrong of which to be acquitted, + "Richard, there is one only way, + "My child you wed without delay. + "She's well brought up, young, full of health + "If fortune has not granted wealth, + "Her beauty you do not deny, + "So wed her, or prepare to die." + To hesitate in such a case + Would surely have been out of place + The girl he loved to take to wife, + Or in his prime to lose his life, + The point in truth needs no debate, + Nor did our Richard hesitate. + Besides, the most supreme delight + Of life he'd tasted one short night, + But one, in lovely Kitty's arms; + Could he so soon resign her charms! + While Richard, pleased with his escape + From what he feared an awkward scrape, + Was dreaming of his happy choice, + Our Kitty, by her father's voice + Awakened, from her hand let go + The cause of all her joy and woe, + And round her naked beauties wound + The sheet picked up from off the ground: + Meanwhile the notary appears + To put an end to all their fears. + They wrote, they signed, the sealed--and thus + The wedding ended free from fuss. + They left the happy couple there. + His satisfaction to declare, + Thus spoke their father to the pair: + "Take courage, children, have no care; + "The nightingale in cage is pent, + "May sing now to his heart's content." + + + + + + + EPITAPH OF LA FONTAINE + MADE BY HIMSELF + + + JOHN, as he came, so went away, + Consuming capital and pay, + Holding superfluous riches cheap; + The trick of spending time he knew, + Dividing it in portions two, + For idling one, and one for sleep. + + + THE END. + + + + +PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +A pretty wife? Beware the monks as you would guard your life +Above all law is might +Avoid attorneys, if you comfort crave +But reason 's fruitless, with a soul on fire +By others do The same as you would like they should by you +Caresses lavish, and you'll find return +Criticism never stops short nor ever wants for subjects +Delays are dangerous, in love or war +Ev'ry grave's the same +Extremes in ev'ry thing will soonest tire +Favours, when conferred with sullen air, But little gratify +Few ponder long when they can dupe with ease +Fools or brutes, With whose ideas reason never suits +He who loves would fain be loved as well +He, who laughs, is always well received +Her doll, for thought, was just as well designed +Historick writ +How could he give what he had never got? +In childhood FEAR 's the lesson first we know! +In country villages each step is seen +In the midst of society, he was absent from it +Monks are knaves in Virtue's mask +No folly greater than to heighten pain +No grief so great, but what may be subdued +No pleasure's free from care you may rely +Not overburdened with a store of wit +Of't what we would not, we're obliged to do +Opportunity you can't discern--prithee go and learn +Perhaps one half our bliss to chance we owe +Possession had his passion quite destroyed +Regarded almost as an imbecile by the crowd +Removed from sight, but few for lovers grieve +Sight of meat brings appetite about +Some ostentation ever is with grief +The eyes:-- Soul-speaking language, nothing can disguise +The god of love and wisdom ne'er agree +The less of such misfortunes said is best +The more of this I think, the less I know +The plaint is always greater than the woe +The promises of kings are airy dreams +The wish to please is ever found the same +Those who weep most the soonest gain relief +Though expectations oft away have flown +Tis all the same:--'twill never make me grieve +Tis past our pow'r to live on love or air +To avoid the tempting bit, 'Tis better far at table not to sit +Too much you may profess +Twere wrong with hope our fond desires to feed +Was always wishing distant scenes to know +We scarcely good can find without alloy +When husbands some assistance seemed to lack +When mourning 's nothing more than change of dress +When passion prompts, few obstacles can clog +While good, if spoken, scarcely is believed +Who knows too much, oft shows a want of sense +Who only make friends in order to gain voices in their favour +Who would wish to reduce Boccaccio to the same modesty as Virgil +Who, born for hanging, ever yet was drowned? +Wife beautiful, witty and chaste woman, who drove him to despair +You little dream for whom you guard the store + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tales and Novels, Complete +by Jean de La Fontaine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALES AND NOVELS, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 5300.txt or 5300.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/0/5300/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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