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48 MONSIEUR KANIFERSTANE.
< Oh! oh' reply'd the marquis, 'does it so?
To Monsieur JCaniferstane, lucky man!
But, then, the size and grandeur of the plan!
While he thus spoke, the sailors anchor cast,
As the marquis descended on the quay,
In liveliest bloom of youth and beauty gay,
Of gold and silver, pearls and jewels rare; On the marquis she much impression made;
His tender breast soon own'd a pleasing flame; Stopping a passenger, he, bowing said,
'Mousieur pray tell me who's that lovely dame." The civil Dutchman bow'd to him again, And gently answer'd 'Ik kan niet verstaaiu'
'What Monsieur Kaniferstane's wife!' the marquis cry'd,
'He who has got yon gay and sumptuous house? Well! that some men have luck can 't be deny'd;
What! such an edifice, and such a spouse! Ma foi! I think I never should complain, Had I the lot of Monsieur Kaniferstane.'
As on the morrow, through the streets he pass'd,
Gazing on the pretty sights about, On a largeopen hall his sight he cast,
Where bustling crowds were going in and out. Joining the throng, he entrance soon obtain'd,
And found the people much engaged to see The numbers which the blanks and prizes gain'd
In their high mightinesses' lottery. Some laugh'd, some wept, some groau'd and some exclaim'd,
In all the spirit of true castle-builders,
THE TOPER AND THE PLIES. 4d
When, on a sudden, a loud voice proclaim'd
'And who,' the marquis cry'd, to one close by,
The man survey'd him with a doubtful eye,
* What! Monsieur JCaniferstane got the prize!'
He who has got a house of such a size,
Diable! you may very well be vain,
With all these treasures, Monsieur KaniferstaneP
A week or two elaps'd when, as he stray'd,
Adorn'd with solemn pomp and grave parade,
'Monsieur,' said he, as bowing to a baker,
And just had nodded to the undertaker,
The baker, as he turn'd to shop again,
Reply'd most gravely, 'Ik, kan niet ver staan.'
'Mon Dieu!' exclaim'd the marquis. 'what pity!
Monsieur Kaniferstane! with surprise!
And such a wife! and such a glorious prize!
THE TOPER AND THE FLIES.
A Group of topers at a table sat,
With punch, that much regales the thirsty sonl: Flies soon the party join'd, and join'd the chat,
Humming and pitching, round the mantling bowl.
50 THE PETTIFOGGER.
At length those flies got drunk; and for their sin,
Wanting to drink—one of the men
He put in ev'ry mother's son agen.
Upjump'd the Bacchanalian crew, on this,
Swearing, and in the attitude to smite:
'Lord! (cry'd the man with gravely-lifted eyes) 'Though I don't like to swallow flies,
'I did not know but others viight.'
THE PETTIFOGGER,Or FEE SIMPLE, Esq.
Ix a town I could mention, a lawyer resided
In wrangles and quari;els he ever confided.
Of little importance, nay, paltry and mean,
But one thing he stuck to, he ever was seen
With pleasure he saw that the quarrels increased,
But all to the 'squire was a holiday feast
While he got his dear Fee, the one pound ten.
A parchment, Caveto, hung up in his hall,
That for one pound ten he would quibble and brawl, Twist, lie, and do all things a cause to defend.
Sometimes when the limits of lots were disputed, He would put all to rights in the turn of a straw;
From the tenth of an inch he his pocket recruited, Till he made the two parties curse lawyer and law.
Thus matters went on, and the lawyer grown rich, Fed high, and swilled wine till the dropsy began
To bloat up his guts to so monstrous a pitch,
At last he departed, and when he had died,
How much is the entrance? (demanded the guide)—
*twas at some country place, a parson preaching.
The virtue of long sufferance was teaching:
Discours'd so much of Job, and how he bore
Job wish'd for more.
Meaning, perhaps, that since'tis plain,
How would it be if man
Pursu'd a different plan,
And not, when tortur'd with the gout,
To make wry faces, roar and shout, But look agreeable and sprightly.
'And pray, d'ye think my dearest life/
As after church they sat,
In courteous chat,
'The sad extremity of wo,
'That Joh, you say, did undergo?
'A talent in your sex we seldom see;
• Tho' not, I think, to me.
'No woman, since the world began,
'And in good truth, 'twixt you and me,
'That patience and that strength of mind
'Were not entirely confin'd
Thus said the modest priest, and would have said
When out of breath, in stumps
His clownish servant 'Numps/
Just like the wight,
Who drew old Priam's curtains in the night, To tell Mm Troy was blazing. 'Well, Numps, the matter? speak! why look'st so
pale! 'Has any thing gone wrong?' quoth Numps, 'the ale.'
* What,' cries the priest, 'the ale gone sour?* (And then his phiz began to lower;)