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wards hanged for it. But no more of this at present. As things stand, I shall put up no more affronts ; and I shall be so far from taking ill words, that I will not take ill looks. I therefore warn all hot young fellows not to look hereafter more terrible then their neighbours; for, if they stare at me with their hats cocked higher than other people, f' will not bear it. Nay, I give warning to all people in general to look kindly at me; for I will bear no frowns, even from ladies; and if any woinan pretends to look scornfully at me, I shall demand satisfaction of the next of kin of the mafculine gender.
ADDISON AND STEELE.
LADY BURNT IN THE PLAYHOUSE AT COPEN
CLARINDA and Chloe, two very fine women, were Bred up as sisters in the family of Romeo, who was the fatherof Chloe, and the guardian of Clarinda. Philander, & young gentleman of a good person, and charming conversation, being a friend of old Romeo's, frequented his house, and by that means was much in conversation with the young ladies, though still in the presence of the father and the guardian. The ladies both entertained à secret passion for him, and could see well enough, notwithstanding the delight which he really took in Romeo's conversation, that there was something more in his heart' which made him so assiduous, a visitant. Each of them thought herself the happy woman; but the person beloved was Chloe. It happened that both of them were at a play in a carnival evening, when it is the fashion there, as well as in most countries of Europe, both for men and women to appear in masks
and disguises. It was on that memorable night in the year 1679, when the playhouse by sume unhappy accident was set on fire. Philander, in the first hurry of the disaster, immediately ran where his treasure wass burst open the door of the box, snatched the lady up in his arms, and with unspeakable resolution and good fortune carried her off safe. He was no sooner out of the crowd, but he set her down; and grasping her in his arms, with all the raptures of a deserving lover, How happy am I, says he, in an opportunity to tell you I love you more than all things, and of showing you the sincerity of my passion at the very first declaration of it! My dear, dear Philander, says the lady, pulling off her mask, this is not a time for art; you are much dearer to me than the life you have preserved; and the joy of my present deliverance does not transport ne so much as the passion which occasioned it. Who can tell the grief, the astonishment, the terror, that appeared in the face of Philander, when he saw the person he spoke to was Clarinda ? After a short pause, Madam, says he, with the looks of a dead man, we are both mistaken; and immediately flew away, without hearing the distressed Clarinda, who had just strength enough to cry out, Cruel Philander ! why did you not leave me in the theatre? Crowds of people immediately gathered about her, and, after having brought her to herself, conveyed her to the house of the good old unhappy Romeo. Philander was now pressing against a whole tide of people at the doors of the theatre, and striving to enter with more earnesıness than
there endeavoured to get out. He did it at last, and with much difficulty forced his way to the box, where his beloved Chloe stood, expecting her fate amidst this scene of terror and distraction. She revived at the sight of
Philander, who fell about her neck with a tenderness not to be expressed; and amidst a thousand sobs and sighs told her his love, and his dreadful mistake. The stage was now in flames, and the whole house full of smoke: the entrance was quite barred up with heaps of people, who had fallen upon one another as they endeavoured to get out: swords were drawn, shrieks heard on all sides; and, in short, no possibility of an escape for Philander himself, had he been capable of making it without his Chloe. But bis mind was above such a thought, and wholly employed in weeping, condoling, and comforting. He caiches her in his arms. The fire surrounds them, while I cannot go on
Were I an infidel, misfortunes like this would convince me that there must be an hereafter: for who can believe that so much virtue could meet with so great elistress without a following reward *?
DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. No. 95.
There are several persons who have many pleasures and entertainments in their possession which they do not enjoy. It is therefore a kind and good office to acquaint them with their own happiness, and turn their attention to such instances of their good fortune which they are apt to overlook. Persons in the married state osten want such a monitor; and pine away their days, by looking upon the same condition in anguish and murmur, which carries with it in the opinion of others
* This catastrophe is said to have really happened in Denmark,
a complication of all the pleasures of life, and a retreat from its inquietudes.
I am led into this thought by a visit I made an old friend who was formerly my schoolfellow. He came to town last week with his family for the winter, and yesterday morning sent me word his wife expected me to dinner. I am as it were at home at that house, and every member of it knows me for their well-wisher. I cannot indeed express the pleasure it is to be met by the children with so much joy as I am when I go thither: the boys and girls strive who shall come first when they think it is I that am knocking at the door ; and that child which loses the race to me runs back again to tell the father it is Mr. Bickerstaff. This day I was led in by a pretty girl that we all thought must have forgot me; for the family has been out of town these two years. Her knowing me again was a mighty subject with us, and took up our discourse at the first entrance. After which, they began to rally me upon a thousand little stories they heard in the country, about my marriage to one of my neighbour's daughters: upon which the gentleman, my friend, said,
Nay, if Mr. Bickerstaff marries a child of any of his old companions, I hope mine shall have the preference; there is Mrs. Mary is now sixteen, and would make him as fine a widow as the best of them : but I know him too well; he is so enamoured with the very memory of those who flourished in our youth, that he will not so much as look upon the modern beauties. I remember, old gentleman, how often you went home in a day to refresh your countenance and dress, when Teraminta reigned in your heart. As we came up in the coach, I repeated to my wife some of
your verses on her.' With such reflections on little passages D3
which happened long ago, we passed our time during a cheerful and elegant meal. After dinner, his lady left the room, as did also the children. As soon as we were alone, he took me by the hand; Well, my good friend, says he, I am heartily glad to see thee; I was afraid you would never have seen all the company that dined with you to-day again. Do not you think the good woman of the house a little altered since you followed her from the playhouse, to find out who she was for me? I perceived a tear fall down his cheek'as he spoke, which moved me not a little. But to turn the discourse, said I, She is not indeed quite that creature she was when she returned me the letter I carried from you; and told me, she hoped, as I was a gentleman, I would be employed no more to trouble her, who had never offended me; but would be so much the gentle. man's friend as to dissuade him from a pursuit which he could never succeed in. You may remember I thought her in earnest; and you were forced to employ your cousin Will, who made his sister get acquainted with her for you. You cannot expect her to be for ever fifteen. Fifteen! replied my good friend : ah ! you little understand, you that have lived a bachelor, how great, how exquisite a pleasure there is in being really beloved ! It is impossible that the most beauteous face in nature should raise in me such pleasing ideas as when I look upon that excellent woman. That fading in her countenance is chiefly caused by her watching with me in my fever. This was followed by a fit of sickness, which had like to have carried her off last winter. I tell you sincerely, I have so many ob- . ligations to her, that I cannot with any sort of moderation think of her present state of health. But as to what you say of fifteen, she gives me every day plea