« AnteriorContinuar »
Blest was the time Waltz chose for her début :
The court, the Regent, like herself were new;
New face for friends, for foes some new rewards;
New ornaments for black and royal guards; New laws to hang the rogues that roar'd for bread;
New coins (most new) to follow those that fled;
New victories -nor can we prize them less, Though Jenky wonders at his own success; New wars, because the old succeed so well That most survivors envy those who fell; New mistresses -no, old and yet 't is true, Though they be old, the thing is something
Hot from the hands promiscuously applied, Round the slight waist or down the glowing side,
Where were the rapture then to clasp the form
From this lewd grasp and lawless contact warm?
At once love's most endearing thought resign,
To press the hand so press'd by none but thine;
To gaze upon that eye which never met 240 Another's ardent look without regret; Approach the lip which all, without restraint,
Come near enough ·
If such thou lovest-love her then no more,
if not to touch to
Voluptuous Waltz! and dare I thus blaspheme?
Thy bard forgot thy praises were his theme.
My son (or stop-'tis needless to inquire-
A LITERARY ECLOGUE
Nimium ne crede colori. - VIRGIL. [Ecl. ii. 17.]
O trust not, ye beautiful creatures, to hue,
London-Before the Door of a Lecture Room. Enter TRACY, meeting INKEL.
With the pride of our belles who have made it the fashion;
So, instead of beaux arts,' we may say ‘la belle passion'
For learning, which lately has taken the lead in
The world, and set all the fine gentlemen reading.
Tra. I know it too well, and have worn out my patience
With studying to study your new publications.
Ink. You're too late.
Ink. I heard Quite enough; and, to tell you the truth, my retreat
Was from his vile nonsense no less than the heat.
Tra. I have had no great loss then? Ink. Loss!-such a palaver! I'd inoculate sooner my wife with the slaver
Of a dog when gone rabid, than listen two hours
To the torrent of trash which around him he pours, Pump'd up with such effort, disgorged with such labour, That-come- - do not make me speak ill of one's neighbour. Tra. I make you!
Ink. Yes, you! I said nothing until You compell'd me, by speaking the truth Tra. To speak ill?
Is that your deduction?
Ink. When speaking of Scamp ill,
I perhaps may as well hold
But there's five hundred people can tell you you're wrong.
Tra. You forget Lady Lilac 's as rich as a Jew.
Ink. Is it miss or the cash of mamma you pursue?
Tra. Why, Jack, I'll be frank with you something of both. The girl's a fine girl.
Ink. And you feel nothing loth To her good lady-mother's reversion; and yet Her life is as good as your own, I will bet. Tra. Let her live, and as long as she likes; I demand Nothing more than the heart of her daughter and hand.
Why, Do you think me subdued by a Blue-stocking's eye,
So far as to tremble to tell her in rhyme What I've told her in prose, at the least, as sublime ?
Ink. As sublime! If it be so, no need of my Muse.
Tra. But consider, dear Inkel, she 's one
of the Blues.' Ink. As sublime! Mr. Tracy - I've nothing to say. Stick to prose
Ås sublime!! - but I wish you good day.
Tra. Nay, stay, my dear fellow
Ink. As sublime !!
I own it: but, prithee, compose me the
Tra. I but used the expression in haste. Ink. That may be, Mr. Tracy, but shows damn'd bad taste.
Ink. To be sure makes a difference.
Tra. I own it-I know it - acknowledge it - what
Can I say to you more?
I see what you'd be at: You disparage my parts with insidious abuse,
Till you think you can turn them best to
your own use.
Tra. And is that not a sign I respect them?
I know what is what:
Hark! Zounds, they'll be on us; I know
Ay! there he is at it. Poor Scamp! better join
Your friends, or he 'll pay you back in
your own coin.
Tra. All fair; 't is but lecture for lecture. Ink. That's clear. But for God's sake let's go, or the Bore will be here.
Come, come: nay, I'm off.
Tra. [Erit INKEL. You are right, and I'll follow; 'Tis high time for a 'Sic me servavit Apollo.' And yet we shall have the whole crew on our kibes, Blues, dandies, and dowagers, and secondhand scribes,
All flocking to moisten their exquisite throttles
With a glass of Madeira at Lady Bluebottle's. [Erit TRACY.
An Apartment in the House of LADY BLUEBOTTLE. A Table prepared.
SIR RICHARD BLUEBOTTLE solus.
WAS there ever a man who was married so sorry ?
Like a fool, I must needs do the thing in a hurry.
My life is reversed and my quiet destroy'd; My days, which once pass'd in so gentle a void,
Must now, every hour of the twelve, be employ'd:
The twelve, do I say?—of the whole twenty-four,
Is there one which I dare call my own any more?
What with driving and visiting, dancing and dining,
What with learning, and teaching, and scribbling, and shining
In science and art, I'll be cursed if I know
Myself from my wife; for although we are two,
Yet she somehow contrives that all things shall be done
In a style which proclaims us eternally
But the thing of all things which distresses
Than the bills of the week (though they trouble me sore),
Is the numerous, humorous, backbiting crew Of scribblers, wits, lecturers, white, black, and blue,
Who are brought to my house as an inn, to
For the bill here, it seems, is defray'd by the host: No pleasure! no leisure! no thought for my pains, But to hear a vile jargon which addles my brains;
A smatter and chatter, gleaned out of reviews,
By the rag, tag, and bobtail, of those they call 'BLUES;'
- But soft, here
A rabble who know not