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Like old Alpheus fond, their wanton streams they
The Bald Barbelor.
Being a paraphrase upon the Second Fable in the Her bounty flows with every tide.
Second Book of Pbadrus. A thousand rivulets in her train With fertile waves enrich the plain : “ Frigidus in venerem senior, fruftraque laborem The scaly herd, a numerous throng,
“ Ingratum trahit : et si quando at prælia ventum Beneath her flver billows glide along, Whose fill increasing shoals supply
“ Ut quondam in ftipulis magnus fine viribus ignis, The poor man's wants, the great one's luxury: “ Incassum furit. Ergo animos ævumque notabis Here all the feather'd troops retreat, “ Præcipuè.”—
Virg. Georg. lib. in. Securely ply their oary feet, Upon her floating herbage gaze,
A BACHELOR, who, paft bis prime, And with their tuneful notes resound her praise, Had been a good one in his time, Here flocks and herds in safety feed,
Had fcour'd the streets, had whor'd, got drunk, And fatten in each flowery mead:
Had fought his man, and kept his punk: No beafts of prey appear
Was sometimes rich, but oftener poor, The watchful shepherd to beguile,
With early duns about his door;
Being a little off his mettle,
Resolving to be grave, and thrive. Bathe in her food, and sport upon her borders By chance he cast his roguish eye green.
Upon a dame who liv'd hard by; Here nerchants, careful of their store,
A widow debonair and gay, By angry billows toit,
October in the dress of May; Anchor Secure bencath her shore,
Artful to lay both red and white, And bless the friendly coalt.
Skill'd in repairs, and, ev'n in spite Soon mighty flcets in all their pride
Of time and wrinkles, kept all tight. Triumphant on her surface ride :
But he, whose heart was apt to rove,
An arrant wanderer in love;
Juicy and young, exceeding witty :
On her he thought, serious or gay, With joy the happy flood admires
His dream by night, his toast hy day; The losty domes, the pointed spires;
He thought, but not on her alone, The porticos, magnificently great,
For who would be confin'd to one? Where all the crowding nations meet; Between them both ftrange work he made; 7 The bridges that adorn her brow,
Gave this a ball, or masqurcade ; Trem bank to ank their ample arches stride, With that, at serious ombre play'd : Through which her curling waves in triumph The self-fame compliments he spoke, glide,
The self-fame oaths he swore, he broke; And in melodious murmurs flow.
Alternately on each bestows Now grown a port of high renown,
Frail promises and short-liv'd vows.
Variety: kind source of joy!
Without thee, who would ever prove
Would read what we in garrets write!
'Tis fit the courteous rcader know And ride o'er ruins with malignant joy ;
This middle-aged man had been a beau.
'Twas long, and curling, and jet black,
As an old horse that had been hard rid,
Humbles our pride, and shows the odds Or from his master's coach discarded,
Between frail mortals and the gods : Forc'd in a tumbrel to go filler,
This by the sequel will appear Or load for some poor rogue a miller ;
A truth most evident and clear. On his grave noddle, o'er his eyes,
As on the widow's panting breast Black hairs and white promiscuous rise;
He laid his peaceful head rest, Which chequer o'er his reverend pate,
Dreaming of pleasures yet in store, And prove the keffel more sedate :
And joys he ne'er had felt before ; So with this worthy 'squire it far'd,
His grizly locks appear display'd, Yet he nor time nor labour spar'd,
In all their pomp of light and shade, But, with excessive cost and pains,
Alas! my future spouse, said she, Still made the best of his remains.
What do mine eyes astonish'd see? Each night beneath his cap he furl'd it,
Marriage demands equality. Each morn in modifh ringlets curl'd it;
What will malicious neighbours say, Now made his comely tresses shine,
Should I, a widow young and gay, With orange-butter, jefiamine;
Marry a man both old and gray? Then with sweet powder and perfumes
Those hideous hairs !--with that a tear He purify'd his upper rooms.
Did in each crystal sluice appear; So when a jockey brings a mare,
She fetch'd a deep sigh from her heart, Or horse, or gelding, to a fair,
As who should say, Best friends must part ! Though he be spavin’d, old, and blind,
Then mus'd a while; there is but one, With founder'd feet, and broken wind;
But this expediene left alone, Yet, if he's master of his trade,
To save that dear head from disgrace; He'll curry well, and trim the jade,
Here, Jenny, fetch my tweaser-case. To make the cheat go glibly down,
To work then went the treacherous fair, And bubble some unwary clown.
And grubb'd up here and there a hair : What woman made of flesh and blood,
But, as the meant not to renew So sweet a gallant c'er withstood ?
His charms, but set her own to view; They mele, they yield, both, both are smitten, And by this foil more bright appear, The good old puls
, and the young kitten; In youthful bloom when he was near, And, being now familiar grown,
The cunning gipsy nipt away Each look'd upon him as her own;
The black, but lily left the gray. No longer talk'd of dear, or honey,
O Delilah ! perfidious fair ! But of plain downright matrimony.
O sex ingenious to ensnare! At that dread word his worship started,
How faithless all your doings are ! And was (we may suppose) faint-hearted; Whom nature form'd your lord, your guide, Yet, being resolu'd to change his state,
You his precarious power deride, Wirks both his eyes, and trusts to fate.
Tool of your vanity and pride. But now new doubts and scruples rise,
The 'squire, who, thus deceiv'd, ne'er dreamt To plague him with perplexities;
What the deceitful traitress meant; He knew not which, alas: to choose,
Thrice kiss'd her hand, and then retir'd, This he must take, and that refuse.
With more exalted thoughts inspir'd: As when some idle country lad
To his fair Filly next repairs, Swings on a gate, his wooden pad;
With satelier port, and youthful airs. To right, to left, he spurs away,
Lord! fir--(said she) you're mighty gay, But neither here nor there can stay;
But I must tell you by the way, *Till, by the catch surpris'd, the lout
That no brood goose was e'er to gray. His journey ends, where he set out :
Here, let this hand eradicate Ev'n fo this dubious lover Atray'd,
Those foul dishonours of your pate, Between the widow and the maid;
For she, poor thing! whole virgin heart, And, after swinging to and fro,
Uolkili'd in every female art, Was juft in equilibrio.
In pure simplicity believ'd Yet ftill a lover's warmth he shows,
His youth mighe this way be retriev'd; And makes his visies and his bows;
At least his age disguis'd, and the, Domestic grown, both here and there,
From spightful prudes, and censure free; Nor Pug, nor Shock, were half so dear:
With earnest diligence and care, With bread and butter, and with tea,
Grubb’d by the roots each grizzled hair; And madam's toilet, who hut he?
Some few black hairs the left behind, There fix'd a patch, or broke a comb;
But no one of the silver kind. At night, the widow's drawing-room.
But when ne saw what work she'd madę, O sweet viciffitude of love!
His bald broad front, without a shade, Who would covet heaven above,
And all his hatchet face display'd, Were men but thus allow'd to rove?
With scarce fix hairs upon a fide, But, alas! Some curs'd event,
His large out-Spreading lugs to hide; Sonic unexpcded accident,
She laugh'd, the scream'd; and Nan and Bess, Require exact conformity,
In person, age, and quality :
Muft, like exchequer callies, hit.
Others, less fçrupulous, opine
That hands and hearts in love may join,
For Nature's more in fault than they.
Whoe'er would lift this point more fully,
With me the doctrine shall prevail
That's à propos to form my tale. The neighbourhood was rais’d, and callid,
Two brethren (whether twins or no The maids miscarry'd, children bawlid,
Imports not very much to koow) The cur, whom oft his bounty fed,
Together bred; as fam'd their love With many a scrap and bit of bread;
As Leda's brats begot by Jove: Now own'd him not, but in the throng
As various too their tempers were; Growlid at him as he sneak'd along.
That brisk, and frolic, debonair ; To bed he went, 'tis true, but not
This more considerate and fevere. Or clos'd his eyes, or Dept one jot;
While Bob, with diligence would pore Not Nisus was in such despair,
And con by heart his battle door, Spoild of his kingdom and his hair :
Frank play'd at romps with John the groom, Not ev'n Belinda made such moan,
Or switch'd his hobby round the room. When her dear favourite lock was gone.
The striplings now too bulky grown, He fum'd, he rar'd, he curs'd amain,
To make dirt pies, and lounge at home, And all his past lise ran o'er again ;
With aching hearts to school are sent, Damn'd every female bite to Tyburn,
Their humcurs fill of various bent i From mother Eve, to mother Wyburn,
The silent, serious, folid boy, Each youthful vanity abjur'd,
Came on apace, was daddy's joy, Whores, box and dice, and claps ill-curid : Construed, and pars'd, and laid his part, And, having lost by female art
And got Que-genus all by heart. This darling idol of his heart,
While Franky, that unlucky rogue, Those precious locks, that might out-vie
Fell in with every whiri in vogue, The trim-curl'd God who lights the sky;
Valued not Lilly of a straw, Resolv'd to grow devout and wise,
A rook at chuck, a dab at taw. Or what's almost the same-- precise;
His bum was often brush'd, you'll say, Canted, and whin'd, and talk'd most odly, 'Tis true, now twice, then thrice a day : Was very slovenly and godiy
So leeches at the breech are fed, (For nothing makes devotion keen,
To cure vertigos in the head. Like disappointment and chagrin):
But, by your leave, good doctor Freind, In fine, he let his house in order,
Let me this maxim recommend; And piously put on a border.
“ A genius can't be forc'd;'' por can
You make an ape an alderman :
But how would furs become the brute ?
In fhort, the case is very plain, And marry in good time, or not at all.
When maggots once are in the brain, Of all the moniters Smithfield e'er could show,
Whole loads of birch are spent in vain. There's none fo hideous as a batter'd beau.
Now to pursue this hopeful pair Trust not the noon of life, but take the morn;
To Oxford, and the Lord knows where, Will Honeycomb is every female's scorn.
Would take more ink than I can spare.
Nor shalll here minutely fcore Let him be rich, high-born, book-learn'd, and
The volumes Bob surn'd o'er and o'er, wise, Believe me, friends, in every woman's eyes,
The laundresses turn'd up by Frank, Tis back, and brawn, and finew, wins the prize.
With many a strange diverring prank;
'Twould jade my muse, though better fed, FAELE XIV.
And kept in body clothes and bread,
When bristles on each chin began
To sprout, the promise of a man, # Fortuna sævo læta negotio, et
The good old gentleman expird, " Ludum infolentem ludere pertinax
And decently to heaven retir'd:
Enjoy'd a pleasant, snug retreat ; .
Their cellars and their barns well for'd, Friendihip confine to fricter tics,
And plenty smoking on their buard:
Ale and tobacco for the vicar,
Press boldly on; slighted, pursue ; For genury sometimes better liquor.
Repuls'd, again the charge renew; Judicious Bob had read all o'er
Give her no reft, attend, entreat, Each weighty stay'd philosopher,
And stick at nothing to be great. And therefore rightly understood
Fir'd with these thoughts, the youth grew vaing The real from th' apparent good;
Look'd on the country with disdain ; Substantial bliss, intrinsic joys,
Where Virtue's fools her laws obey, From bustle, vanity, and noise ;
And dream a lazy life away; Could his own happiness create,
Thinks poverty the greatelt fin, And bring his mind to his estate:
And walks on thorns till he begin: Liv'd in the same calm, ealy round,
Bur first before his brother laid His judgment clear, his body found;
The hopeful scheme, and begg'd his aide Good humour, probity, and sense,
Kind Bob was much abalh'd, to fee Repaid with peace and indolence :
His brother in extremity, While rakish Frank, whose active soul
Reduc'd co rags for want of thought, No bounds, no principle control,
A beggar, and not worth a groat. Flies o'er the world where pleasure calls,
He griev'd full sore, gave good advice, To races, masquerades, and balls;
Quoted his authors grave and wise, At random roves, now here, now there,
All who with wholefonie morals treat us, Drinks with the gay, and toasts the fair.
Old Seneca and Epi&etus. As when the full-fed refly steed
What's my unhappy brother doing ? Breaks from his groom, he Alies with speed; Whither rambling? whom pursuing His high-arch'd neck he proudly rears,
An idle, tricking, giddy jade, Upon his back bis cail he bears,
A phantom, and a fleeting hade; His main upon his shoulders curls,
Grasp'd in this coxcomb's arms a while, O'er every precipice he whirls,
The false jile fawns, then a fond smile; He planges in the cooling tides,
On that the leers, he like the rest He laves his shining pamper'd fides,
Is soon a bubble and a jeft; He souffs the females on che plain,
But live with me, just to thyself, And to his joy he springs amain,
And scorn the bitch, and all her pell; To this, to that, impetuous fies,
Fortune's ador'd by fools alone, Nor can the stud his luft fuffice;
The wise man always makes his own. Till pature flags, his vigour spent,
But 'ris, alas! in vain e' apply With dr ooping tail, and nerves unbent,
Fine fayings and philosophy, The humble beast returns content,
Where a poor youth's o'erheated brain, Waits tamely at the stable door,
Is sold to interest and gain, As tractable as e'er before.
And pride and fierce ambition reign. This was exactly Franky's case;
Bob found it so, nor did he strive When blood ran high he liv'd apace;
To work the nail that would not drive; But pockets drain'd, and every vein,
Content to do the best he could, Look'd lilly, and came home again.
And as became his brotherhood, Atlength extravagance and vice,
Gave him what money he could spare, Whoring and drinking, box and dice,
And kindly paid his old arrear, Sunk his exchequer ; cares intrude,
Bought him his equipage and clothes, And duns grow troublesome and rude.
So thus supply'd away he goes, What measures shall poor Franky take
For London town he mounts, as gay To manage wisely the last stake,
As tailors on their wedding-day. With some few pieces in his purse,
Not many miles upon the road, And half a dozen brats at nurse?
A widow's liately manfion tood;
What if dame Fortune should be there?
I'll try to find her in the crowd,
She loves the wealthy and the proud. The questinn now remains alone,
Away he spurs, and at the door Whether 'uis best to hang or drown.
Slood gallant gentry many a score, Thank you for that, good friendly devil!
Penelope had never more. You're very courteous, very civil;
Here cortur'd cats-gut squeals amain, Other expedients may be try'd,
Guitcars in softer notes complain, The man is young, the world is wide,
And lutes reveal the lover's pain. And, as judicious authors say,
Frank, with a careless, easy mien, " Every dog shall have his day;"
Sung her a long, and was let in. What if we ramble for a while ?
The rest with envy burst, to see Seck Fortune oui, and court her smile,
The Atranger's odd felicity. Ad every part in hfe to win her,
Low bow'd the footman at the stairs, Firit try the faint, and then the finner ; The groueman at top appears:
And is your lady, fir, at home?
Who would seek Fortune, sir, at court ? Pray walk into the drawing-room.
At H-I's is her chief resort; But here my muse is too well bred,
"Tis there her midnight hours she spends, To prattle what was done or faid;
Is very gracious to her friends; She lik'd the youth, his dress, his face,
Shows honeft men the means of thriving, His calves, his back, and every grace :
The best, good-natur'd goddess living. Supper was serv'd, and down they fit,
Away he trudges with his rook, Much meat, good wine, some little wit.
Throws many a main, is bit, is broke; The grace.cup drunk, or dance, or play ;
With dirty knuckles, aching head,
Disconfolate he sneaks to bed.
How humble, and how complaisant,
Is a proud man reduc'd to want ! Slept not a wink; he raves, he dies,
With what a filly, hanging face, Smit with her jointure and her eyes.
He bears his unforeseen disgrace! Refless as in a lion's den,
His spirits flag, his pulse beats low, He sprawlid and kick'd about till ten :
The gods, and all the world his foe; But, as he dreamt of future joys,
To thriving knaves a ridicule, His car was startled with a noise,
A butt to every wealthy fool. Six trumpets and a ketle-drum;
For where is courage, wit, or sense, Up in a hurry flies the groom,
When a poor rake has lost his pence? Lord, fır! get dress'd, the colonel's come :
Let all the learn'd say what they can, Your horse is ready at the door,
'Tis ready money makes the man; You may reach Uxbridge, fir, by four.
Commands respect where'er we go, Poor Franky must in haste remove,
And gives a grace to all we do. With disappointment vex'd, and love;
With such reflections Frank distress'd, To dirt aband n'd, and despair,
The horrors of his soul express'd : For lace and feather won the fair.
Contempt, the basket, and a gaol, Now for the town he jogs apace,
By turns his restless mind affail; With leaky boots and sun-burnt face;
Aghast the dismal scene he flies, And, leaving Acton in his rear,
And death grows pleasing in his eyes: Began to breathe sulphureous air.
For since his rhino was all flown, Arriv'd ar length, the table spread,
To the last solitary crown, Three bottles drunk, he reels to bed.
Who would not, like a Roman, dare Next morn his buly thoughts begun,
To leave that world he could not share ? To rise and travel with the sun;
The pistol on his table lay, Whims heap'd on whims his head turn'd round, And death fed hovering o'er his prey ; But how dame Fortune might be found,
There wanted nothing now to do, Was the momentuous grand affair,
But touch the trigger, and adieu.' His secret wilh, his only care.
As he was saying some short prayers, Damme, thought Franky to himself,
He heard a wheezing on the stairs, l'll find this giddy wandering elf;
And looking out, his aunt appears; I'll hunt her out in every quarter.
Who from Moorfields, breathless and lame, Till the bestow the staff or garter :
To see her graceless godson canie : I'll visit good Lord Sunderland,
The falutations being part, Who keeps the jilt at his command;
Coughing, and out of wind, at last Or else some courteous duchefs may
In his great chair she took her place, Take pity on a runaway.
How does your brother ? is my neice Dress'd to a pink, to court he flies,
Well marry'd? when will Robin settle? At this levee, and that he plies;
He answer'd all things to a tittle; Bows in his rank, an humble slave,
Gave such content in every part, And meanly sawns on every knave;
He gain'd the good old beldam's heart. With maids of honour learns to chat,
“ Godson," said she, “ alas ! I know Fights for this lord, and pimps for that.
“ Matters with you are but so-lo: Fortune he fought from place to place,
“ You're come to town, I understand, She led him ftill a wild-goose chase;
“ To make your fortune out of hand; Always prepar'd with some excuse,
“ Your time and patrimony lost, The hopesul younker to amuse;
“ To beg a place, or buy a poft. Was busy, indispos’d, was gone
“ Believe me, godson, I'm your friend ; To Hampton-court, or Kensington;
“ Of this great town, this wicked end And, after all her wiles and dodgings,
• Is ripe for judgment; Satan's seat, She slipp'd clear off, and bilk'd her lodgings. " The fink of fin, and hell complete. Jaded, and almost in difpair,
“ In every street of trulls a troop, A gamiester whisper'd in his ear;
" And cvery cook-wench wears a hoopi