Julio and tells him that a lady closely veiled wishes to speak to him. Accustomed to romantic adventures, Julio immediately orders his groom to admit her. She enters the room- -her veil falls-and the dandy beholds the unfortunate Baroness. "You see before you," exclaimed she," the most wretched of women. Julio, we are betrayed!" "Indeed!" replies Julio; "the incident appears remarkably dramatic." "Yes, Julio," sobs the wretched woman; " how it has happened I know not; but a letter I wrote to you yesterday has fallen into the hands of my husband." "I am annihilated!" said Julio. This brief conversation ends as Abufar enters the apartment and announces the Barou. The Baroness has only time to rush into a closet before he enters the room. The husband demands satisfaction of the dandy. "I am entirely at your service," says Julio. "I am glad of it," replies the injured husband; "my friend is waiting. Are you ready?" "Permit me," says Julio," to dress myself. Do me the kindness to step into that closet-you will see something that will surprise you." The Baron enters the cabinet and beholds his wife. The scene which ensues is terrible-Julio and the Baron go out and fight-Julio kills his adversary; after which he returns home and dresses for the play; the Baroness suddenly presents herself to his sight, pale and wretched-her hair dishevelled, her dress disordered. "Julio," sobs the unfortunate lady, "I forgive you, and I die!" Saying which she falls dead at his feet. Julio casts a look of indifference on the body, and, turning to his groom, says Abufar, give me my opera-glass, and then go and fetch the coroner; but take care that none of his people do any mischief to the furniture. The deuce, why it's a quarter past eight o'clock ! Norma must have begun. How time flies!" As he comes out of the theatre Julio meets one of his friends. "Hasn't Grisi been delightful to-night? By the bye, my dear fellow, I must tell you what has happened to me since yesterday-something terrible, upon my honour, in the highest degree, and more dramatic than Lucrece Borgia.' Every week of a dandy's life is marked by similar adventures, which, however, fortunately have not always equally deplorable results. But there is an end to this bright yet baleful career. The day at last arrives -the day of retribution, when the dandy finds himself utterly ruined by his luxury and his passions. Four ways are then open to him: if he is a philosopher, he enters the army; if he is handsome, he marries for money; if he is adventurous and romantic, he goes to Hungary and enrols himself in the corps of Schubri; if he be neither adventurous, nor philosophical, nor handsome, he kills himself. This is the picture of a dandy as fancifully painted by our modern novelists, and this fabulous creation is generally accredited by those who only see the world out of their windows, and who study the manners and customs of high life in the circulating libraries. Having now sketched a dandy as these writers make him, we shall next try to represent him as he really is. T. E. H. THE BITER BIT. A TALE OF RETALIATION.* IN Florence gay there lived a man much famed (Sharko by surname) as a desperate glutton: Certès, no heartier cormorant could be named For aught of carnal that's the table put on : From all, save fish, his jaws a tribute claim'd,— From rich made dishes down to poor boil'd mutton But soon he found so much carnivorous eating His pocket, for his palate's sake, was cheating. A trick he therefore tried, and found no bad one,'Twas to accost the great with phrase convenient, With flattering tongue, and smirking face (the sad one!) And make them to his cravings largely lenient. Then soon each scruple ceased, if e'er he had one, Betwixt his pride and stomach intervenient; Till, having wits, and knack for all occasion, He seldom fail'd to catch an invitation. In the same city flourish'd one Blondello, To Sharko known as friend, or rather neighbour, A little, dapper, consequential fellow, With hands so white as show'd he loved no labour. Brisk manners had he, like a Punchinello, And flaxen locks, retain'd in curl with paper. Now 'twixt these two there was, at heart, small liking, By chance one morning ('twas in time of Lent), Fain to inform you that he hath intent To give a dinner-party,-and right sure I'm Of this, that if you come, you'll find a welcome." "Corpo di Bacco!" answers Sharko, I'll come." 46 The hour arrived, keen Sharko, in full dress, To Sieur Donati's, to make one o' the mess At table. When he show'd himself, each face did Express non-recognition; nevertheless He bow'd to all around, and in the case did All that the policy of his assurance The host, Donati, was a little puzzled At this unbidden entrance, and was biting His nether lip, to keep his anger muzzled; But, wearing soon a look less un-inviting, (When Sharko had through his excuses bustled,) He smoothed his brow, erewhile so very affrighting, And, to avoid that rude horse-syllable nay, He bade, reluctantly, Sharko to stay. *Freely rendered from the Italian of Boccaccio. But, ah! the feast!-In sooth, 'twas less alluring Strange! that your men of Italy should be Thus brought in contact with a tribe of Fins! As for poor Sharko, scarce a bit ate he, Spite of his appetite, that prick'd like pins; For fish his soul eschew'd; and, ah! to see Such heaps of fish, his flesh to creep begins. The empty jest he smoked, and homeward went, Full, not of dinner, but of discontent. 66 Fervens difficili bile tumet jecur"— Inward he swell'd with choler most ferocious: He watch'd, and scann'd his best resources quite fully- There figured in the square of Cavicciuli A knight of note, call'd Philip Fiorigenti, Red-hair'd, red-faced, and red-hot-temper'd-" You lie!" His mildest words, and the least blow he lent ye, A leveller. Him Sharko imagined truly To be just son affaire: so to him sent he A ragamuffin porter, duly hired, To work him to the rage his scheme required. Charged with two flasks, the porter straightway hied A capital dinner for some dear friends' sake, Hath sent me, Sir, (nor fears to be denied) For some of your most choice red wine, to slake Their tasteful thirst." This caused the knight some puzzle : And, promptly roused into a mood pugnacious, Roar'd out, whilst nearer to the man he drew, Base wretch! what wine, and friends, and fudge d'ye speak of?" But t'other, well forewarn'd, took care to sneak off. The train thus laid, the explosion but remain'd; And Sharko in the person of Blondello The match for Fiorigenti's powder gain'd, By telling him that "warm but worthy fellow" As glares the tiger in his horrid den, So on Blondello, heedless as he went, Scowl'd the fell knight, most truculent of men, Who speaks not, but (his words, ere utter'd, spent,) Bellows, like one horn-mad,-and, bull-like, then Tosses his head, as if with gory intent, And, rushing on the miserable intruder, Shakes him with shocks than shivering ague ruder. Some intermittent words here gurgled out, As "Rogue! knave! ass! wine, beggar, wine? I'll teach thee:" And then, (still roughlier knocking him about,) "Thy fool hath fled-but thou-these cuffs shall reach thee." Anon he seized his hair, and, many a root Extracting, shouted, "Caitiff! I'll impeach thee And now, if it were not quantum suff, To bear the beating's memory, and its pain, For tempting thus one who with ease enough Could so belabour. But you'll know again," Sneer'd they, in words that stood for consolation, "How to avoid this sort of castigation." Night several times had black'd the eye of Day To take the air,-when lo! whom should he meet And whisper'd, " Friend, how liked you the red wine Liked Sieur Donati's fish-feast. That friend's name "Well, well," quoth Sharko, " cease we this collision, 'Tis this, that for the future you had best Look to yourself: for, Sir, you must not think, Against such heavy odds, was fain to sink G. D ILL-WIL L. AN ACTING CHARADE.-BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT. Dramatis Persona. MR. CADAVEROUS, An old Miser, very rich and very ill. SEEDY, Solicitor. THOMAS MONTAGU, Nephews to Mr. Cadaverous. JOHN MONTAagu, JAMES STERLING, WILLIAM STERLING, Nephews twice removed to Mr. Cadaverous. CLEMENTINA MONTAGU, Niece to Mr. Cadaverous. ACT I. SCENE-A sick room-MR. CADAVEROUS in an easy chair asleep, supported by cushions, wrapped up in his dressing-gown, a night-cap on his head-A small table with phials, gallipots, &c.—MRS. JELLY BAGS seated on a chair close to the table. Mrs. Jellybags. (Looks at Mr. CADAVEROUS, and then comes forward.) He sleeps yet, the odious old miser. Mercy on me, how I do hate him,—almost as much as he loves his money. Well, there's one comfort, he cannot take his money-bags with him, and the doctor says that he cannot last much longer. Ten years have I been his slave,— ten years have I been engaged to be married to Sergeant Major O'Callaghan of the Blues,-ten years has he kept me waiting at the porch of Hymen, and what thousands of couples have I seen enter during the time! Oh dear! it's enough to drive a widow mad. I think I have managed it; he has now quarrelled with all his relations, and Doctor Gumarabic intends this day to suggest the propriety of his making his last will and testament. (Mr. CADAVEROUS, still asleep, coughs.) He is waking. (Looks at him.) No, he is not. Well, then, I shall wake him, and give him a draught, for, after such a comfortable sleep as he is now in, he might last a whole week longer. (Goes up to MR. CADAVEROUS, and shakes him.) Mr. Cad. (starting up.) Ugh! ugh! ugh! (Coughs violently.) Oh! Mrs. Jellybags, I'm so ill. Ugh! ugh! Jel. My dear, dear Sir, now don't say so. I was in hopes, after such a nice long sleep, you would have found yourself so much better. Cad. Long sleep! oh dear!-I'm sure I've not slept ten minutes. Jel. (aside.) I know that. (aloud) Indeed, my dear Sir, you are mistaken. Time passes very quick when we are fast asleep. I have been watching you, and keeping the flies off. But you must now take your draught, my dear Sir, and your pill first. Cad. What! more pills and more draughts! to them! Jel. Yes, there will be, by and by, my dear Sir, Why, there's no end You know Doctor |