ePub 版

Laura, who knew it would not do at all To meet the daylight after seven hours sitting

Among three thousand people at a ball,
To make her curtsy thought it right and

The Count was at her elbow with her shawl,
And they the room were on the point of


When lo! those cursed gondoliers had got
Just in the very place where they should not.

In this they're like our coachmen, and the


Is much the same—the crowd, and pulling, hauling,

With blasphemies enough to break their jaws,

They make a never intermitted bawling.
At home, our Bow-street gemmen keep the

And here a sentry stands within your calling;
But, for all that, there is a deal of swearing,
And nauseous words past mentioning or

The Count and Laura found their boat at last,

And homeward floated o'er the silent

Discussing all the dances gone and past;
The dancers and their dresses, too, beside;
Some little scandals eke: but all aghast
(As to their palace - stairs the rowers

Sate Laura by the side of her Adorer,
When lp! the Mussulman was there before

"Sir," said the Count, with brow exceeding grave,

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

"Beppo! that board of yours becomes you not, It shall be shaved before you're a day older:

Why do you wear it? Oh! I had forgot-
Pray don't you think the weather here is

"Your unexpected presence here will make
It necessary for myself to crave
Its import? But perhaps 'tis a mistake;
I hope it is so; and at once to wave
All compliment, I hope so for your sake;
You understand my meaning, or you shall.” | Should find you out,
"Sir," (quoth the Turk) "tis no mistake
at all.

That lady is my wife!" Much wonder paints
The lady's changing cheek, as well it might:
But where an Englishwoman sometimes

Italian females don't do so outright;
They only call a little on their saints,
And then come to themselves, almost or

Which saves much hartshorn, salts, and
sprinkling faces,
And cutting stays, as usual in such cases.

How do I look? You shan't stir from this spot
In that queer dress, for fear that some
and make the story
Lord! how gray
it's grown!"

How short your hair is!

[blocks in formation]


And thus at Venice landed to reclaim
His wife, religion, house, and Christian name.

But he grew rich, and with his riches grew so | Or else the people would perhaps have shot
Keen the desire to see his home again,
He thought himself in duty bound to do so,
And not be always thieving on the main;
Lonely he felt, at times, as Robin Crusoe,
And so he hired a vessel come from Spain,
Bound for Corfu; she was a fine polacca,
Mann'd with twelve hands, and laden with

Himself, and much (heaven knows how
gotten) cash,
He then embark'd, with risk of life and limb,
And got clear off, although the attempt was

His wife received, the patriarch re-baptized

(He made the church a present by the way;)
He then threw off the garments which dis-
guised him,
And horrow'd the Count's small-clothes for
a day;
His friends the more for his long absence
prized him,
Finding he'd wherewithal to make them gay,
With dinners, where he oft became the
laugh of them,

He said that Providence protected him-
For my part, I say nothing, lest we clash
In our opinions:-well, the ship was trim, For stories,-but I don't believe the half
Set sail, and kept her reckoning fairly on,
Except three days of calm when off Cape


They reach'd the island, he transferr'd his lading,

And self and live-stock, to another bottom,
And pass'd for a true Turkey-merchant,

With goods of various names, but I've for-
got 'em.
However, he got off by this evading,

of them.

Whate'er his youth had suffer'd, his old age With wealth and talking made him some amends;

Though Laura sometimes put him in a rage,
I've heard the Count and he were always

My pen is at the bottom of a page,
Which being finish'd here the story ends;
"Tis to be wish'd it had been sooner done,
But stories somehow lengthen when begun.

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

In short she was a walking calculation,
Miss Edgeworth's novels stepping from their


Or Mrs. Trimmer's books on education,
Or "Coelebs' Wife" set out in quest of

Morality's prim personification,
In which not Envy's self a flaw discovers;
To others' share let "female errors fall,"
For she had not even one-the worst of all.

Oh! she was perfect past all parallel –
Of any modern female saint's comparison;
So far above the cunning powers of hell,
Her guardian angel had given up his gar-

Even her minutest motions went as well
As those of the best time-piece made by

In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her,
Save thine “incomparable oil," Macassar!

Perfect she was, but as perfection is
Insipid in this naughty world of ours,
Where our first parents never learn'd to kiss
Till they were exiled from their earlier

Where all was peace, and innocence, and

(I wonder how they got through the twelve


[blocks in formation]

And so I interfered, and with the best
Intentions, but their treatment was not

Don Jóse like a lineal son of Eve,
Went plucking various fruit without her For neither of them could I ever find,

I think the foolish people were possess'd,


[blocks in formation]

Although their porter afterwards confess'd—
But that's no matter, and the worst behind,
For little Juan o'er me threw, down stairs,
A pail of housemaid's water unawares.

A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing,
And mischief-making monkey from his

His parents ne'er agreed except in doting
Upon the most unquiet imp on earth;
Instead of quarrelling, had they been but
both in

Their senses, they'd have sent young master
To school, or had him soundly whipp'd
at home,
To teach him manners for the time to come.

Don Jose and the Donna Inez led
For some time an unhappy sort of life,
Wishing each other, not divorced, but

They lived respectably as man and wife,
Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred,
And gave no outward signs of inward strife,
Until at length the smother'd fire broke out,
And put the business past all kind of

[blocks in formation]

The hearers of her case became repeaters,The public feeling and the lawyer's fees;
Then advocates, inquisitors, and judges,
Some for amusement, others for old grudges.

And then this best and meekest woman bore With such serenity her husband's woes, Just as the Spartan ladies did of yore, Who saw their spouses kill'd, and nobly chose

Never to say a word about them more--Calmly she heard each calumny that rose, And saw his agonies with such sublimity, That all the world exclaim'd, "What magnanimity!"

No doubt, this patience, when the world is damning us,

Is philosophic in our former friends;
Tis also pleasant to be deem'd magnanimous,
The more so in obtaining our own ends;
And what the lawyers call a "malus animus,”
Conduct like this by no means comprehends:
Revenge in person's certainly no virtue,
But then 'tis not my fault if others hurt you.

And if our quarrels should rip up old stories, And help them with a lie or two additional, I'm not to blame, as you well know, no more is

Any one else they were become traditional; Besides, their resurrection aids our glories By contrast, which is what we just were wishing all:

And science profits by this resurrectionDead scandals form good subjects for dis


Their friends had tried at reconciliation, Then their relations, who made matters


His house was sold, his servants sent away,

A Jew took one of his two mistresses,
A priest the other at least so they say:
I ask'd the doctors after his disease,
He died of the slow fever called the tertian,
And left his widow to her own aversion.

Yet Jóse was an honourable man,
That I must say, who knew him very well;
Therefore his frailties I'll no further scan,
Indeed there were not many more to tell
And if his passion now and then outran
Discretion, and were not so peaceable
As Numa's (who was also named Pompilius),
He had been ill brought up, and was born

Whate'er might be his worthlessness or worth,

Poor fellow! he had many things to wound him,

Let's own, since it can do no good on earth; It was a trying moment that which found him Standing alone beside his desolate hearth, Where all his household-gods lay shiver'd round him;

No choice was left his feelings or his pride Save death or Doctors' Commons-so he died.

Dying intestate, Juan was sole heir
To a chancery-suit, and messuages, and

Which, with a long minority and care,
Promised to turn out well in proper hands:
Inez became sole guardian, which was fair,
And answer'd but to nature's just demands:
An only son left with an only mother
Is brought up much more wisely than

« 上一頁繼續 »