XXIV. And so I interfered, and with the best Intentions, but their treatment was not kind For neither of them could I ever find, XXV. A little curly-headed good-for-nothing, And mischief-making monkey from his birth; Instead of quarrelling, had they been but both in XXVI. Don Jose and the Donna Inez led For some time an unhappy sort of life, Wishing each other, not divorced, but dead; They lived respectably as man and wife, Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred, And gave no outward signs of inward strife, Until at length the smother'd fire broke out, And put the business past all kind of doubt. XXVII. For Inez called some druggists and physicians, XXVIII. She kept a journal, where his faults were noted, The hearers of her case became repeaters: XXIX. And then this best and meekest woman bore Who saw their spouses kill'd, and nobly chose Calmly she heard each calumny that rose, And saw his agonies with such sublimity, That all the world exclaim'd, “ What magnanimity!" XXX. No doubt, this patience, when the world is damning us, XXXI. And if our quarrels should rip up old stories, By contrast, which is what we just were wishing all: And science profits by this resurrection Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection. XXXII. Their friends had tried at reconciliation, Then their relations, who made matters worse! ('Twere hard to tell upon a like occasion To whom it may be best to have recourseI can't say much for friend or yet relation :) The lawyers did their utmost for divorce, But scarce a fee was paid on either side, Before, unluckily, Don Jose died. XXXIII. He died: and most unluckily, because XXXIV. But ah! he died; and buried with him lay XXXV. Yet Jose was an honourable man, That I must say, who knew him very well: As Numa's, (who was also named Pompilius,) XXXVI. Whate'er might be his worthlessness or worth, It was a trying moment that which found him Where all his household gods lay shiver'd round him; No choice was left his feelings or his pride, Save death or Doctors' Commons--so he died. XXXVII, Dying intestate, Juan was sole heir To a chancery suit, and messuages, and lands, Which, with a long minority, and care, Promised to turn out well in proper hands: Inez became sole guardian, which was fair; And answer'd but to Nature's just demands; An only son left with an only mother Is brought up much more wisely than another. XXXVIII. Sagest of women, even of widows, she Resolved that Juan should be quite a paragon, And worthy of the noblest pedigree: (His sire was of Castile, his dam from Arragon.) Then for accomplishments of chivalry, In case our lord the king should go to war again, XXXIX. But that which Donna Inez most desired, And so they were submitted first to her, all, XL. The languages, especially the dead, The sciences, and most of all the abstruse, To be the most remote from common use, XLI. His classic studies made a little puzzle, But never put on pantaloons or boddices; XLII. Ovid's a rake, as half his verses show him, I don't think Sappho's ode a good example, Where the sublime soars forth on wings more ample; But Virgil's songs are pure, except that horrid one Beginning with "Formosum Pastor Corydon." XLIII. Lucretius' irreligion is too strong For early stomachs, to prove wholesome food; I can't help thinking Juvenal was wrong, Although no doubt his real intent was good, For speaking out so plainly in his song, So much indeed as to be downright rude; And then what proper person can be partial To all those nauseous epigrams of Martial? |