Need we intrude on hallowed ground,
Or draw the curtains, closed around?
Let it suffice, that each had charms :
He clasped a goddess in his arms;
And though she felt his usage rough,
Yet in a man 'twas well enough.
The honey-moon like lightning flew;
The second brought its raptures too.
A third, a fourth, were not amiss;
The fifth was friendship mixed with bliss:
But, when a twelvemonth passed away,
Jack found his goddess made of clay;
Found half the charms that decked her face
Arose from powder, shreds, or lace;
But still the worst remained behind;
That very face had robbed her mind.
Skilled in no other arts was she,
But dressing, patching, repartee;
And, just as humour rose or fell,
By turns a slattern or a belle.
'Tis true she dressed with modern grace, Half-naked at a ball or race;
But when at home, at board or bed,
Five greasy night-caps wrapped her head.
Could so much beauty condescend
To be a dull domestic friend?
Could any curtain lectures bring
To decency so fine a thing?
In short, by night, 'twas fits or fretting;
By day, 'twas gadding or coquetting.
Fond to be seen, she kept a bevy
Of powdered coxcombs at her levee:
THE DOUBLE TRANSFORMATION.
The 'squire and captain took their stations,
And twenty other near relations.
Jack sucked his pipe, and often broke
A sigh in suffocating smoke;
While all their hours were passed between
Insulting repartee or spleen.
Thus as her faults each day were known,
He thinks her features coarser grown;
He fancies ev'ry vice she shows,
Or thins her lip, or points her nose:
Whenever rage or envy rise,
How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes!
He knows not how, but so it is,
Her face is grown a knowing phyz;
And though her fops are wond'rous civil,
He thinks her ugly as the devil.
Now, to perplex the ravelled nooze,
As each a different way pursues,
While sullen or loqacious strife
Promised to hold them on for life,
That dire disease, whose ruthless power
Withers the beauty's transient flower :
Lo! the small-pox, whose horrid glare
Levelled its terrors at the fair;
And, rifling ev'ry youthful grace,
Left but the remnant of a face.
The glass grown hateful to her sight,
Reflected now a perfect fright;
Each former art she vainly tries
To bring back lustre to her eyes.
In vain she tries her paste and creams,
To smooth her skin, or hide its seams;
Her country beaux and city cousins,
Lovers no more, flew off by dozens :
The 'squire himself was seen to yield,
And e'en the captain quit the field.
Poor madam now, condemned to hack
The rest of life with anxious Jack,
Perceiving others fairly flown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack soon was dazzled to behold
Her present face surpass the old ;
With modesty her cheeks are dyed,
Humility displaces pride;
For taudry finery is seen,
A person ever neatly clean:
No more presuming on her sway,
She learns good-nature ev'ry day :
Serenely gay, and strict in duty,
Jack finds his wife a perfect beauty.
WHAT? five long acts--and all to make us wiser!
Our authoress sure has wanted an adviser.
Had she consulted me, she should have made
Her moral play a speaking masquerade;
Warmed up each bustling scene, and in her rage,
Have emptied all the green room on the stage.
My life on't, this had kept her play from sinking;
Have pleased our eyes, and saved the pain of think-
ing.
Well, since she thus has shown her want of skill,
What if I give a masquerade ?—I will.
But how? ay, there's the rub! [pausing]—I've got my cue:
The world's a masquerade! the masquers, you, you,
[To Boxes, Pit, and Gallery.
Lud! what a group the motley scene discloses ! False wits, false wives, false virgins, and false spouses!
Statesmen with bridles on; and, close beside 'em,
Patriots in party-coloured suits that ride 'em
There Hebes, turned of fifty, try once more
To raise a flame in Cupids of threescore.
These in their turn, with appetites as keen,
Deserting fifty, fasten on fifteen.
Miss, not yet full fifteen, with fire uncommon,
Flings down her sampler, and takes up the woman;
The little urchin smiles, and spreads her lure,
And tries to kill, ere she's got power to cure :
Thus 'tis with all-their chief and constant care
Is to seem every thing-but what they are.
Yon broad, bold, angry spark, 1 fix my eye on,
Who seems t' have robbed his vizor from the lion;
Who frowns, and talks, and swears, with round pa-
[Mimicking.
Looking, as who should say, dam'me! who's afraid!
Strip but this vizor off, and sure I am
You'll find his lionship a very lamb.
Yon politician, famous in debate,
Perhaps to vulgar eyes, bestrides the state;
Yet, when he deigns his real shape t' assume,
He turns old woman, and bestrides a broom.
Yon patriot, too, who presses on your sight,
And seems to every gazer, all in white,
If with a bribe his candour you attack,
He bows, turns round, and whip-the man in black l
Yon critic, too-but whither do I run?
If I proceed, our bard will be undone !
Well then a truce, since she requests it too :
Do you spare her, and I'll for once spare you.'
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