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Another REASONABLE AFFLICTION.
FROM her own native France as old Alison past,
She reproach'd English Nell with neglect or with
That the flattern had left, in the hurry and haste,
Her lady's complexion and eye-brows at Calais.
ER eye-brow-box one morning lost,
(The best of folks are oftenest crost) Sad Helen thus to Jenny said (Her careless but afflicted maid), Put me to bed then, wretched Jane ;; Alas! when, Ihall I rise again? I can behold no mortal now: For what 's an eye without a brow?
N a dark corner of the house
Poor Helen fits, and sobs, and cries ;
She will not see her loving spouse,
Nor her more dear picquet allies :
Unless the find her eye-brows,
out her eyes.
ELEN was just slipt into bed :
Her eye-brows on the toilet lay :
Away the kitten with them fled,
As fees belonging to her prey.
For this misfortune careless Jane,
Afsure yourself, was loudly rated :
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 :
If we don't catch a mouse to-night, Alas ! no eye-brows for to-morrow.
PHYLL I S'S A G E How old may Phyllis be, you ask,
Whose beauty thus all hearts engages? To answer is no easy task :
For she has really two ages.
Stiff in brocade, and pinch'd in stays,
Her patches, paint, and jewels on; All day let Envy view her face,
And Phyllis is but twenty-one,
FORMA BONUM FRAGILE.
WHAT a frail thing is Beauty, fays baron Le Cras,
Perceiving his Mistress had one eye of glass :
And scarcely had he spoke it;
When the more confus'd, as more angry
grew, By a negligent rage prov'd the maxim too true :
She dropt the eye, and broke it.
Written to the Duke de Noailles.
TAIN the concern which you express,
That uncall’d Alard will possess
Your house and coach, both day and night,
And that Macbeth was haunted less
By Banquo's restless spright.
With fifteen thousand pounds a year,
Do you complain, you cannot bear
An ill, you may fo foon retrieve?
Good Alard, faith, is modester
By much than
Lend him but fifty Louis-∨
And you shall never see him more :
Take the advice; probatum ejt.
Why do the Gods indulge our store,
But to secure our rest?
EPILOGUE to SMITH'S PHÆDRA and HIPPOLYTUS,
Spoken by Mrs. OLDFIELD, who acted ISMENA,
LADIES, to-night your pity I implore
For one, who never troubled you before:
An Oxford-man, extremely read in Greek,
Who from Euripides makes Phædra speak;
And comes to town to let us Moderns know,
How women lov'd two thousand years ago.
If that be all, said I, e’en burn your play:
Egad !' we know all that as well as they :
Shew us the youthful, handsome charioteer,
Firm in his seat, and running his career ;
Our fouls would kindle with as generous flames,
As e'er inspir'd the antient Grecian dames :
Every Ismena would resign her breast;
And every dear Hippolytus be blest.
But, as it is, fix flouncing Flanders mares
Are e'en as good as any two of theirs:
And, if Hippolytus can but contrive
To buy the gilded chariot, John can drive.
Now of the bustle you have seen to-day,
And Phædra's morals in this scholar's play,
Something at leaft in juftice should be faid;
But this Hippolytus so fills one's head
Well! Phædra liv'd as chastely as the cou'd ;
For lhe was Father Jove's own Aesh and blood.
Her aukward love indeed was oddly fated;
She and her Poly were too near related ;
And yet that scruple had been laid aside,
If honest Theseus had but fairly dy'd:
But when he came, what needed he to know,
But that all matters stood in ftatu quo ?
There was no harm, you see; or, grant there were
She might want conduct ; but he wanted care.
'Twas in a husband little less than rude,
Upon his wife's retirement to intrude-
He thould have sent a night or two before,
That he would come exact at such an hour;
Then he had -turn'd all tragedy to jest;
Found every thing contribute to his reft ;
The picquet friend dismiss'd, the coaft all clear,
And spouse alone impatient for her dear.
But, if these gay reflections come too late,
To keep the guilty Phædra from her fate ;
If your more serious judgement must condemn
"The dire effects of her unhappy flame :
Yet, ye chaste matrons, and ye tender fair,
Let Love and Innocence engage your care :
My spotless flames to your protection take;
And spare poor Phædra for Ismena's fake.