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To cheapen tea, to buy a screen;
What else could so much virtue mean?
For to prevent the least reproach,
Betty went with her in the coach.
But when no very great affair
Excited her peculiar care,
She without fail was waked at ten;
Drank chocolate, then slept again.
At twelve she rose; with much ado
Her clothes were huddled on by two;
Then, does my lady dine at home?
Yes, sure;—but is the Colonel come!
Next, how to spend the afternoon,
And not come home again too soon;
The 'Change, the City, or the Play,
As each was proper for the day;
A turn in summer to Hyde Park,
When it grew tolerably dark.
Wife's pleasure causes husband's pain:
Strange fancies come in Hans's brain :
He thought of what he did not name;
And would reform, but durst not blame.
At first he therefore preached his wife
The comforts of a pious life;
Told her how transient beauty was;
That all must die, and flesh was grass:
He bought her sermons, psalms, and graces;
And doubled down the useful places.
But still the weight of worldly care
Allowed her little time for
That teach one to deny oneself,
Stood unmolested on the shelf.
An untouched Bible graced her toilet:
No fear that thumb of hers should spoil it.
In short, the trade was still the same;
The dame went out, the colonel came.
What 's to be done? poor Carvel cried:
Another battery must be tried:
What if to spells I had recourse,
'Tis but to hinder something worse!
The end must justify the means:
He only sins who ill intends:
Since therefore 'tis to combat evil,
'Tis lawful to employ the devil.
Forthwith the devil did appear
(For name him, and he's always near),
Not in the shape in which he plies
At miss's elbow when she lies;
Or stands before the nursery doors,
To take the naughty boy that roars:
But, without saucer-eye or claw,
Like a grave barrister at law.
Hans Carvel, lay aside your grief,
The devil says; I bring relief.
let me crave
Your name, Sir,-Satan—Sir, your slave!
I did not look upon your feet;
You 'll pardon me:
Ay, now I see 't:
And pray, Sir, when came you from hell;
Our friends there, did you leave them well!
All well; but pr’ythee, honest Hans,
(Says Satan) leave your complaisance:
The truth is this; I cannot stay
Flaring in sunshine all the day;
For, entre nous, we hellish sprites
Love more the fresco of the nights;
And oftener our receipts convey
In dreams, than any other way.
I tell you therefore as a friend,
Ere morning dawns, your fears shall end.
Go then this evening, master Carvel,
Lay down your fowls, and broach your barrel; ;
Let friends and wine dissolve your care;
Whilst I the great receipt prepare :
To-night I 'll bring it, by my faith;
Believe for once what Satan saith.
Away went Hans: glad? not a little;
Obeyed the devil to a tittle;
Invited friends some half a dozen,
The colonel and my lady's cousin.
The meat was served, the bowls were crowned,
Catches were sung, and healths went round;
Barbadoes waters for the close;
Till Hans had fairly got his dose.
The colonel toasted to the best;
The dame moved off to be undressed;
The chimes went twelve; the guests withdrew:
But when, or how, Hans hardly knew.
Some modern anecdotes aver,
He nodded in his elbow chair;
From thence was carried off to bed:
John held his heels, and Nan his head.
My lady was disturbed, new sorrow!
Which Hans must answer for to-morrow.
In bed then view this happy pair;
And think how Hymen triumphed there.
Hans fast asleep as soon as laid,
The duty of the night unpaid;
The waking dame, with thoughts oppressed, 125
That made her hate both him and rest;
By such a husband, such a wife!
'Twas Acme's and Septimius' life:
The lady sighed: the lover snored:
The punctual devil kept his word;
Appeared to honest Hans again,
But not at all by madam seen;
And giving him a magic ring,
Fit for the finger of a king,
Dear Hans, said he, this jewel take,
And wear it long for Satan's sake;
'Twill do your business to a hair;
For, long as you this ring shall wear,
As sure as I look over Lincoln,
That ne'er shall happen which you think on. 140
A slave I am to Clara's eyes:
The gipsy knows her power, and flies.
Fire, water, woman, are my ruin:
And great thy wisdom, Vander Brüin.
PAULO PURGANTI AND HIS WIFE:
AN HONEST, BUT A SIMPLE PAIR.
Est enim quiddam, idque intelligitur in omni virtute, quod deceat: quod cogitatione magis à virtute potest quàm re separari. Cic. de Off. L. 2.
BEYOND the fixed and settled rules
Of vice and virtue in the schools,
Beyond the letter of the law,
Which keeps our men and maids in awe,
The better sort should set before 'em
A grace, a manner, a decorum;
Something, that gives their acts a light;
Makes them not only just, but bright;
And sets them in that open fame,
Which witty malice cannot blame.
For 'tis in life, as 'tis in painting,
Much may be right, yet much be wanting ;
From lines drawn true, our eye may trace
A foot, a knee, a hand, a face;
May justly own the picture wrought
Exact to rule, exempt from fault:
Yet, if the colouring be not there,
The Titian stroke, the Guido air;
To nicest judgment show the piece;
At best 'twill only not displease:
It would not gain on Jersey's eye;
Bradford would frown, and set it by.
Thus in the picture of our mind
The action may be well designed;