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THE APOTHECARY OF NEWCASTLE. A man in many a country town we know,

Professes openly' with death to wrestle, Entering the field against the grimly foe,

Arm’d with a mortar and a pestle.

Yet some affirm, no enemies they are,
But meet just like prize-fighters in a fair,
Who first shake hands before they box,
Then give each other plaguy knocks.
With all the love and kindness of a brother ;

So (many a suffering patient saith,)

Though the apothecary fights with Death, Still3 they are sworn friends to one another.

A member of this Æsculapian line 4

Lived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne :
No man could better5 gild a pill,

Or make a bill ;
Or mix a draught, or bleed, or blister ;
Or draw a tooth out of your head ;
Or chatter scandal by your bed, 6

Or spread a plaster.
His fame full six miles round the country ran;

In short, in reputation he was solus :7 All the old women call'd him “ a fine man;" —

His name was Bolus.

Benjamin Bolus, though in trade

(Which oftentimes will genius fetter,) 8

i Professes openly, Fait profession de. -—2 Like prize-fighters in a fair, Comme ces lutteurs de la foire.—3 See § 42.-4 A member of this Æsculapian line, Un membre de cette race d'Esculape.-—5 Could better, Était plus capable de. _6 Chatter scandal by your bed, Médire du prochain à votre chevet.—7 Solus (alone), Seul. -8 Which oftentimes will genius fetter, Circonstance qui souvent entrave le génie.

Poor man, I would save him his fruit if I could,
But staying behind will do him no good.

“ If this matter depended alone upon me,
His apples might hang till they dropp'd from the tree :
But since they will take them, I think I'll go too ;
He will lose none by me, though I get a few.”2

His scruples thus silenced,3 Tom felt more at ease,
And went with his comrades the apples to seize :
He blamed and protested, but join'd in the plan ;
He shared in the plunder, but pitied the man.

Conscience slumber'd a while, but soon woke in his breast,
And in language severe the delinquent address'd:4
“With such empty and selfish pretences away !5
By your actions you 're judged, 6 be your speech what it may.”?

W. COWPER.
1731–1800.

THE FOX AT THE POINT OF DEATH.

A Fox, in life's extreme decay,
Weak, sick, and faint, expiring lay;
All appetite had left his maw,
And age disarm’d his mumbling jaw.
His num'rous races around him stand,
To learn their dying sire's command ;
He raised his head with dying moan,

1 Staying behind will do kim no good, Si je reste en arrière, cela ne lui profitera pas.—2 He will lose none by me, though I get a few, Je ne lui ferai pas perdre une seule pomme, et j'en aurai quelques-unes. See also § 20.—3 His scruples thus silenced, Ayant ainsi fait taire ses scrupules.-4 In language severe the delinquent address'd, Elle adressa au coupable ce langage sévère.-_5 With such empty and selfish pretences away! Loin de toi des prétextes si vains et si intéressés ! See also 8 25.–6 See § 5, 12.—7 Be your speech what it may, Quelles que soient tes paroles. _8 Race, Famille.

Who a vile trick of stumbling had
It was indeed a very sorry hack;

But that's of course : 1

For what's expected from a horse With an apothecary on his back ?

Bolus arrived, and gave a doubtful tap,
Between a single and a double rap.2
The servant lets him in with dismal face,
Long as a courtier's out of place,

Portending some disaster;
John's countenance as rueful look’ and grim,
As if the apothecary had physick'd 3 him,

And not his master.

“Well, how's the patient ?” Bolus said.

John shook his head. “ Indeed !-hum ! ha !—that's very odd ! He took the draught ?” John gave a nod.4 “Well, how? what then ? 5 speak out, you dunce ! ” “Why then,” said John, “we shook him once.” “ Shook him ! how ?"6 Bolus stammer'd out.

“We jolted him about.” “Well ! shake a patient, man ! a shake won't do."? “No, sir, and so we gave him two."

“Two shakes ! 'Twould make the patient worse.” 8 “ It did so, sir, and so a third we tried.” “Well, and what then ? "_" Then, sir, my master died.”

G. COLMAN. 1733–1794.

i See $ 55, 28. _2 Bolus arrived, and gave a doubtful tap, Between a single and a double rap, Bolus arriva et frappa d'une manière équivoque, Entre un et deux coups de marteau._3 Physick'd, Médeciné.—4 John gave a nod, Jean fit signe que oui.5 Well. how? what then ? Mais alors, comment cela ?_6 Shook him! how ! Secoué ! lui? comment dis-tu ?_7 A shake won't do, Ce n'est pas une secousse qu'il lui fallait. -8 'Twould make the patient worse, Cela a dû le rendre plus malade.

And infamy hath mark'd our race.
Though we, like harmless sheep, should feed,
Honest in thought, in word, and deed,
Whatever hen-roost is decreased, 2
We shall be thought to share the feast.3
The change shall never be believed ;
A lost good name is ne'er retrieved.”
—“Nay, then,” replies the feeble fox,
“But hark! I hear a hen that clucks !
Go, but be moderate in your food ;
A chicken too, might do me good !"

J. Gay. 1688–1732.

BALLAD OF LORD WILLIAM.
No eye beheld when William plunged

Young Edmund in the stream ;
No human ear but William's heard

Young Edmund's drowning scream.

Submissive all the vassal's own'd 4

The murderer for their lord,
And he as rightful heir possess'd

The houses of Erlingford.

The ancient house of Erlingford

Stood in a fair domain,
And Severn's ample waters near

Roll'd through the fertile plain.

1 Thougk we, like harmless sheep, should feed, Honest in thought, in word, and deed, Nous aurions beau vivre comme d'innocentes brebis, et nous montrer vertueux dans toutes nos pensées, nos paroles, et nos actions._? Whatever hen-roost is decreased, Si un poulailler vient à diminuer.-3 We shall be thought to share the feast, On croira que nous en avons pris notre part.-4 Submissive all the vassals own'd, Tous les vassaux reconnurent sans résistance.-5 The house, Le manoir.

The cause of strife removed so rarely well,
“There take, (says Justice,) take ye each a shell ;
We thrive at Westminster on fools like you :
'Twas a fat oyster-live in peace-adieu.”

A. POPE. 1688–1744.

THE LAST MINSTREL.
The way was long, the wind was cold,
The Minstrel was infirm and old,
His wither'd cheek and tresses gray
Seem'd to have known a better day;
The harp, his sole remaining joy,
Was carried by an orphan boy.
The last of all the bards was he,
Who sung of border chivalry,
For well-a-day! their date was fled, 2
His tuneful brethren 3 all were dead,
And he, neglected and oppressid,
Wish'd to be with them, and at rest.4
No more5 on prancing palfrey bore,
He caroll'd light as lark at morn:
No longer courted and caress’d,
High placed in hall, a welcome guest,
He pour'd to lord and lady gay,
The unpremeditated lay : 6
Old times were changed, old manners gone,
A stranger fill’d the Stuart's throne,
A wandering harper scorn’d and poor,

i We thrive on, Nous nous engraissons aux dépens de. - Their date was fled, Leur temps était passé.—3 His tuneful brethren, Ses frères en poésie.-4 To be wit'i them, and at rest, Reposer avec eux pour toujours.-5 No more, Ce n'était plus le temps où.-6 Unpremeditated lay, Des vers improvisés.--7 A wandering harper scorn'd and poor, Errant avec sa harpe, pauvre et méprisé.

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