And Lily, postilion, With cheeks of vermilion, Is one of a million That fill up the church-yards; IV. And, lusty as Dido, By Stygian hid ford; V. And gallant Tom Dockwra, Lurks by Avernus, Whose honest grasp of hand Still, while his life did stand, At friend's or foe's command, Almost did burn us. VI. Roger de Coverley Not more good man than he; Push'd for Cocytus, With drivelling Worral, 'Gainst whom I've a quarrel, VII, Kindly hearts have I known; Linger yet uneffaced, VIII. But this day Fanny Hutton She died, as the dunce died; Things, as she once did; IX. And prudent Miss Wither Nor I well, nor you know; FREE THOUGHTS ON SEVERAL EMINENT COMPOSERS. SOME Cry up Haydn, some Mozart, Just as the whim bites; for my part, I do not care a farthing candle For either of them, or for Handel.- Or through the world with comfort go, Or those old ante-queer-diluvians That lived in the unwash'd world with Jubal, Before that dirty blacksmith Tubal By stroke on anvil, or by summ'at, Found out, to his great surprise, the gamut. Than he did for Salvator Rosa, Be mine, if I can bear that Gluck! Old Tycho Brahe, and modern Herschel, Had something in them; but who's Purcel? For aught I care, may take Beethoven; To choose 'twixt him last named, and Winter. I would not go four miles to visit I shall not say a word to grieve 'em, Selby. Do not too far mistake me, gentlest wife; I meant to chide your virtues, not yourself, And those too with allowance. I have not Been blest by thy fair side with five white years Of smooth and even wedlock, now to touch With any strain of harshness on a string Hath yielded me such music. 'Twas the quality Of a too grateful nature in my Katherine, That to the lame performance of some vows, And common courtesies of man to wife, Attributing too much, hath sometimes seem'd To esteem as favours, what in that blest union Are but reciprocal and trivial dues, As fairly yours as mine: 'twas this I thought Gently to reprehend. Kath. In friendship's barter The riches we exchange should hold some level, And corresponding worth. Jewels for toys Demand some thanks thrown in. You took me, sir, Selby. But to divert the subject: Kate too fond, You speak this of the Widow- I must guess, "Twas a bolt At random shot; but if it hit, believe me, have swerved From our first talk. I was to caution you exacts To that blest haven of my peace, your bosom, [4 voice within. even now I hear her call you Kath. Or new vamp up Sister! I know you are come to welcome The tarnish'd cloak she came in. I have seen In years gone by this day was used to be her Demand such service from thee, as her maid, slave ! And yet my dearest Kate !-This day at least Why weeps my wife? You know, I promised you An airing o'er the pleasant Hampshire downs cheek An apt resemblance to the fruit's warm side, The smoothest of the year. You seem ruffled. Your honey turn'd Selby. Selby. She came at first a meek admitted guest, In jewels stolen or borrow'd from my wife; I must be kept in ignorance. Katherine's meek Some mystery hangs on it. Enter a Servant. Now, Robin, what make you here? May it please you, cares For my displeasure. Sometimes I have thought, None, sir, that I know of, She keeps some moderation; but is never But from the lady, who expects some letter I find my Katherine in briny tears. She should have coach enough, and scope to ride. From the small chamber, where she first was My merry groom should in a trice convey her lodged, The gradual fiend by specious wriggling arts own; Commands my servants, equipage.—I hear Enter MRS. FRAMPTON. Mrs. F. O, I am jolter'd, bruised, and shook to death, To Sarum Plain, and set her down at Stonehenge, She should take sample of our Wiltshire flints. Secrets that touch'd your peace. If there be My life upon't, 'tis but some girlish story With your vile Wiltshire roads. The villain Of a First Love; which even the boldest wife Philip Chose, on my conscience, the perversest tracks, Lucy. And I shall love the knave for ever after. Mrs. F. A friend with you! My eldest sister, Lucy, To stand on ceremony with obligations, Is to restrain the obliger. That old coach, Of yours jumbles one strangely. I shall order An equipage soon, more easy to you, madam- I hope he means. [Aside. Might modestly deny to a husband's ear, SCENE-Servants' Hall. HOUSEKEEPER, PHILIP, and others, laughing. Housekeeper. Our Lady's guest, since her short And somewhat in disorder. ride, seems ruffled, Philip, Philip, I do suspect some roguery. Your mad tricks And sage Duenna to the maids and scullions, younger, And undisturb'd with care of keys and pantries. Butler. Good Philip, tell us all. All. Ay, as you live, tell, tell— Butler. I think that no one can mistake her Waiting-maid. Our Lady's ring is soft sweet music to it, Mrs. F. I must go trim myself; this humbled More of entreaty hath it than command. Would shame a wedding-feast. I have your leave [Exit. Fare you well, then. Selby. How like you her assurance? Philip. I lose my story, if you interrupt me The bell, I say, rang fiercely; and a voice I straight obey'd, as 'tis my name and office. Good Mistress Abigail; look to your dressings, Philip. 'Tis market-day, thought I; and the But I could make a shift to thread a smaller. Meeting such droves of cattle and of people, Mrs. F. I will fit you. [Aside. Quick, quick; And where the flints were biggest, and ruts You were not once so slack.—As I was saying, motions We flounder'd on a furlong, till my madam, In all your dangers, all your little difficulties, Butler. Hang her, 'tis pity such as she should If you'd not have me, sinking at your feet, Waiting-maid. I think she is a witch; I have [Kneels. This to me! This posture to your friend had better suited With sticking pins in her pillow; still she 'scapes The orphan Katherine in her humble school-days themTo the then rich heiress, than the wife of Selby, Butler. And I with helping her to mum for Of wealthy Mr. Selby, claret, But never yet could cheat her dainty palate. And so should be respected. Though, I think, coachman. SCENE.-Mrs. Selby's Chamber. MRS. FRAMPTON, KATHERINE, working. To the poor widow Frampton, sunk as she is. 'Twas something, or 'twas nothing, that I said; Kath. Mrs. F. Not by that name. And saviour of my honour! You still shall find me such. Hear me, madam- This sounds better; That you have graced Mrs. F. I am thinking, child, how contrary our You have been pleased fates To accept some trivial hospitalities, Have traced our lots through life.-Another In part of payment of a long arrear needle, This works untowardly.-An heiress born I owe to you, no less than for my life. Mrs. P. You speak my services too large. For what an abject thing were life to me T T |