« הקודםהמשך »
months after Florimel happen'd to wed, And was brought in a laudable manner to bed, She warbled her groans with so charming a voice, Thatonehalfofthe parish wasstunn'dwith the noise; But when Florimel deign'd to lie privately in, Ten months before she and her spouse were a-kin, She chose with such prudence her pangs to conceal, That her nurse, nay, her midwife, scarce heard her once squeal. Learn, husbands, from hence, for the peace of your
lives, That maids make not half such a tumult as wives.
A REASONABLE AFFLICTION.
N his death-bed poor Lubin lies;
A different cause, says parson Sly,
Poor Lubin fears that he shall die;
ROM her own native France as old Alison past, She reproach'd English Nell with neglect or with malice, That the slattern had left, in the hurry and haste, Her lady's complexion and eye-brows at Calais.
f ER eye-brow box one morning lost,
ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
N a dark corner of the house
Poor Helen sits, and sobs and cries;
ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
ELEN was just slipt into bed:Her eye-brows on the toilet lay:
For this misfortune careless Jane,
And madam, getting up again, With her own hand the mouse-trap baited.
On little things, as sages write,
Depends our human joy or sorrow: 10 If we don't catch a mouse to-night,
Alas! no eye-brows for to-morrow
OW old may Phillis be, you ask,
Stiff in brocade, and pinch'd in stays,
All day let envy view her face,
Paint, patches, jewels laid aside,
At night astronomers agree, 10
The evening has the day belied;
FOEMA BONUM FRAGILE.
'HAT a frail thing is beauty! says Baron Le Cras, Perceiving his mistress had one eye of glass:And scarcely had he spoke it, When she more confus'd as more angry she grew, By a negligent rage prov' d the maxim too true:She dropt the eye, and broke it.
A CRITICAL MOMENT.
OW capricious were Nature and Art to poor
WRITTEN TO THE DUKE DE NOALLES.
AIN the concern which you express,
Your house and coach, both day and
And that Macbeth was haunted less
With fifteen thousand pounds a year,
An ill, you may so soon retrieve?
By much, than you believe.
Lend him but fifty louis-d'or;And you shall never see him more;
Take the advice; probatum est.
But to secure our rest?
EPILOGUE TO PHAEDRA AND HIPPOLITUS.*
A TRASES?, BY MB. EDMUND SMITH. SPOKEN BY
ADIES, to-night your pity I implore
* This excellent tragedy, although performed by Betterton, Booth, Mrs. Barry, and Mrs. Oldfield, met with but a very cold reception from the public on its first appearance. In the Spectator, No. 18, Mr. Addison says—" Would one think it was possible (at a time when an author lived that was able to write the Phasdra and Hippolitus) for a people to be so stupidly fond of the Italian opera, as scarce to give a third day's hearing to that admirable tragedy." The prologue to it was written by Mr. Addison.