ECLOGUE VIII. THE PARTING. Multi Committunt eadem diverso crimina fato; Ille crucem pretium sceleris tulit, hic diadema." JUV. CLOSE in those walls, which Frank's* mistaken zeal, The Sons of Bridewell lectures from his tub): Both young alike, and by the Muse inspir'd; * Sir Francis Burdett. + Huntingdon the Coal-heaver. And only waited for a prosp'rous gale, And thus the couple, full of am'rous pains, Ruth. Since cruel fate ordains that we should part, As painted Hags at Drawing-rooms by night- Hence with thy doubts, for shame! for surely she Thyrsis. Unhappy is the lesser villain's doom, Cut off in fortune's pride, in manhood's bloom! The crafty statesman, favour'd by his King, Obtains a ribbon-but deserves a string; And, thinking it the duty of his station To cheat the public, and to starve the nation, Leaves Bridewell, Bot'ny Bay, and Tyburn tree, To friendless unprotected rogues like me! * Immo ego Sardoïs videar tibi amarior herbis, Horridior rusco, projectâ vilior algâ; Si mihi non hæc lux toto jam longior anno est. Ruth. I busy was with reading Little's muse, When Cousin Bridget brought the dreadful news: 66 "A pretty joke (she cry'd), your Sweetheart Thyrsis, Who left an honest trade to scribble verses,' (And looking fiercely with her arms a-kimbo,) * Thyr. But I must travel far, to climes unknown,* Beneath the scorching or the freezing Zone; Condemn'd, alas! by Law's unjust decree, My home, my friends, my love! no more to see:— We all must reap the harvest that we sow, Good Heav'n! what ills from deeds dishonest flow. Ruth. Now hear me,Thyrsis, hear the vow I make, To die a faithful virgin for thy sake. * At nos hinc alii sitientes ibimus Afros: Pars Scythiam, et rapidum Cretæ veniemus Oaxem, &c. Let eager suitors proffer bars of gold, And court me like Penelope of old, I'll show the rogues, the lady of Ulysses Had not a heart more true to love, than this is. Thyr. I know thee, Love! thou surely wert the Of some hard judge, or shoulder-tapping dun, Ruth. O, dread not storms! my sighs shall Though tempests should arise, and billows roar, Thyr. As to the City 'Prentice, whey and curds, t So to me, gentle maiden! are thy words. As to the longing school-boy, Christmas cheer; To cattle, pastures green and rivers clear; * Nunc scio quid sit amor. Duris in cotibus illum, &c. + Quale sopor fessis in gramine; quale per æstum Dulcis aquæ saliente sitim restinguere rivo. To rosy vicars, revelry and ease; To hungry lawyers, briefs and double fees; So are thy sweet assurances of love To this fond heart, which, may I now be curst, * Ruth. This night, my Thyrsis, let us banish care,* Cutlets and bottled ale shall be our fare; Thy head shall find a pillow on my breast, My voice shall hush thy sorrows all to rest: For hark! the gaoler shakes his bunch of keys, And ev❜ning Zephyrs die along the trees. * Hic tamen hanc mecum poteras requiescere noctem Fronde super viridi. Sunt nobis mitia poma, &c. |