Your care does further yet extend:
That fpy is guarded by your friend.—
But has this friend nor eye nor heart?
May he not feel the cruel dart,
Which, foon or late, all mortals feel?
May he not, with too tender zeal,
Give the fair prifoner caufe to fee,
How much he wishes fhe were free?
May he not craftily infer
The rules of friendship too fevere,
Which chain him to a hated truft;
Which make him wretched, to be just?
And may not she, this darling she,
Youthful and healthy, flesh and blood,
Eafy with him, ill us❜d by thee,
Allow this logic to be good?
will your queftions never end?
I trust to neither spy nor friend.
In short, I keep her from the fight Of every human face. She'll write. fhe's debarr'd.---
From pen and paper
Has fhe a bodkin and a card?
She'll prick her mind.-She will, you fay:
But how fhall fhe that mind convey y?
I keep her in one room: I lock it :
The key (look here) is in this pocket.
The key-hole, is that left? Moft certain.
She'll thrust her letter through-Sir Martin.
Dear angry friend, what must be done?
Is there no way?-There is but one.
Send her abroad: and let her fee,
That all this mingled mafs, which fhe,
Being forbidden, longs to know,
Is a dull farce, an empty show,
Powder, and pocket-glafs, and beau;
A ftaple of romance and lies,
Falfe tears and real perjuries :
Where fighs and looks are bought and fold,
And love is made but to be told:
Where the fat bawd and lavish heir
The spoils of ruin'd beauty share ;
And youth, feduc'd from friends and fame,
Muft give up age to want and fhame.
Let her behold the frantic scene,
The women wretched, falfe the men :
And when, these certain ills to fhun,
She would to thy embraces run;
Receive her with extended arms,
Seem more delighted with her charms;
Wait on her to the park and play,
Put on good-humour; make her gay;
Be to her virtues very kind;
Be to her faults a little blind;
Let all her ways be unconfin'd;
And clap your padlock-on her mind.
HANS CAR VEL.
HANS CARVEL, impotent and old,
Married a lafs of London mould:
Handfome? enough; extremely gay:
Lov'd mufic, company, and play :
High flights fhe had, and wit at will;
And fo her tongue lay feldom ftill:
For in all vifits who but she,
To argue, or to repartée ?
She made it plain, that human paffion
Was order'd by predeftination;
That, if weak women went aftray,
Their ftars were more in fault than they:
Whole tragedies fhe had by heart;
Enter'd into Roxana's part:
To triumph in her rival's blood,
The action certainly was good.
How like a vine young Ammon curl'd!
Oh that dear conqueror of the world!
She pitied Betterton in age,
That ridicul'd the god-like rage.
She, first of all the town, was told,
Where newest India things were fold
So in a morning, without bodice,
Slipt fometimes out to Mrs. Thody's;
To cheapen tea, to buy a screen:
What else could fo 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 wak'd at ten;
Drank chocolate, then slept again :
At twelve fhe rofe; with much ado
Her clothes were huddled on by two;
Then, does my Lady dine at home?
Yes, fure!-But is the Colonel come?
Next, how to spend the afternoon,
And not come home again too foon;
The Change, the City, or the Play,
As each was proper for the day:
A turn in fummer to Hyde-Park,
When it grew tolerably dark.
Wife's pleasure caufes 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 preach'd his wife
The comforts of a pious life:
Told her, how tranfient beauty was;
That all muft die, and flesh was grass:
He bought her fermons, pfalms, and graces;
And doubled down the useful places.
But ftill the weight of worldly care
Allow'd her little time for prayer:
And Cleopatra was read o'er;
While Scot, and Wake, and twenty more,
That teach one to deny one's-felf,
Stood unmolefted on the shelf.
An untouch'd bible grac'd her toilet:
No fear that thumb of hers should spoil it.
In short, the trade was ftill the fame :
The Dame went out: the Colonel came.
What's to be done? poor Carvel cry'd ::
Another battery must be try'd :
What if to spells I had recourfe?
"Tis but to hinder fomething worse.
The end must justify the means;
He only fins 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 Mifs's elbow when the lies. ;
Or ftands before the nursery-doors,.
To take the naughty boy that roars:
But, without fawcer-eye or claw,
Barrister at Law.
Hans Carvel, lay afide your grief,.
The Devil fays; I bring relief.
Relief! fays Hans: pray, let me crave
Your name, Sir-Satan-Sir, your flave;
I did not look upon your feet:
You'll pardon me :-Ay, now I fee't:
And pray, Sir, when came you from hell?
Our friends there, did you leave them well?
|