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Great his offence, and evil was his mind,
within A fair acquittal from so foul a sin ;
'Tis thought your deer doth hold you at a bay. Yet she too err'd, and must of Heaven expect
Tuming of the Shrero, act 5. sc. To be rejected, him should she reject.”
I choose her for myself: Susan was summon'd; “ I'm about to do
If she and I are pleased, what's that w you A foolish act, in part seduced by you ;
Ibid. Go to the creature, say that I intend,
Let's send each one to his wife, Foe to his sins, to be his sorrow's friend;
And he whose wife is most obedient Take, for his present comforts, food and wine,
Shall win the wager. And mark his feelings at this act of mine :
Ibid Observe if shame be o'er his features spread,
Now by the world it is a lusty wench, By his own victim to be soothed and sed ;
I love her ten times more than e'er I did.
ið. act. ii. sc. I. But, this inform him, that it is not love That prompts my heart, that duties only move : COUNTER and CLUBB were men in trade, whose Say, that no merits in his favour plead,
pains, But miseries only, and his abject need;
Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains; Nor bring me grovelling thanks, nor high-lown Partners and punctual, every friend agreed praise ;
Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed. I would his spirits, not his fancy raise ;
When they had fix'd some little time in life, Give him no hope that I shall ever more
Each thought of taking to himself a wife ; A man so vile to my esteem restore ;
As men in trade alike, as men in love But warn him rather, that, in time of rest, They seem'd with no according views lo more; His crimes be all remember'd and confess'd : As certain ores in outward view the same, I know not all that form the sinner's debt, They show'd their difference when the magnet But there is one that he must not forget.” The mind of Susan prompted her with speed
Counter was vain : with spirit strong and high, To act her part in every courteous deed :
"Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh: All that was kind she was prepared to say, “ His wife might o'er his men and maids preside, And keep the lecture for a future day ;
And in her province be a judge and guide ; When he had all life's comforts by his side, But what he thought, or did, or wish'd to do, Pity might sleep, and good advice be tried. She must not know, or censure if she knew;
This done, the mistress felt disposed to look, At home, abroad, by day, by night, is he As self-approving, on a pious book :
On aughi determined, so it was to be : Yet, to her native bias still inclined,
How is a man," he ask'd, “ for business fit,
Who to a female can his will submit?
But all be silent; and, when seen again,
Thus fix'd, she heard not her aliendant glide Friends I invite, and who shall dare t' object. With soft slow step-till, standing by her side, Or look on them with coolness or neglect ? The trembling servant gasp'd for breath, and No! I must ever of my house be head, shed
And, thus obey'd, I condescend to wed.” Relieving tears, then utter'd—“He is dead!" Clubb heard the speech—“My friend is nice," " Dead !" said the startled lady. “ Yes, he said he ;
“A wife with less respect will do for me : Close at the door where he was wont to dwell; How is he certain such a prize to gain ? There his sole friend, the ass, was standing by, What he approves, a lass may learn to feign, Half dead himself, to see his master die."
And so affect t' obey, till she begins to reign; “Expired he then, good Heaven! for want of A while complying, she may vary then, food !"
And be as wives of more unwary men ; * No! crusts and water in a corner stood ; Besides, to him who plays such lordly part To have this plenty, and to wait so long,
How shall a tender creature yield her heart? And to be right too late, is doubly wrong: Should he the promised confidence resuse, Then, every day to see him totter by,
She may another more confiding choose ; And to forbear-O! what a heart had I !" May show her anger, yet her purpose hide,
“Blame me not, child ; I tremble at the news.” And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride. “ 'Tis my own heart,” said Susan, “ I accuse: In one so humbled, who can trace the friend ! To have this money in my purse-to know I on an equal, not a slave, depend ; What grief was his, and what to grief we owe: If true, my confidence is wisely placed, To see him often, always to conceive
And being false, she only is disgraced.” How he must pine and languish, groan and Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye around, grieve;
And one so easy soon a partner found. And every day in ease and peace to dine, The lady chosen was of good repute ; And rest in comfort !- what a heart is mine !" Meekness she had not, and was seldom mute ;
Thougn quick to anger, still she loved to smile; Thus made suspicious, he observed and saw And would be calm if men would wait a while. His friend each night at early hour withdraw; She knew her duty, and she loved her way,
He sometimes mention'd Juliet's tender nerves, More pleased in truth to govern than obey ; And what attention such a wise deserves : She heard her priest with reverence, and her spouse In this," thought Clubb, “ full sure some mystery As one who felt the pressure of her vows;
liesUseful and civil, all her friends confessid, He laughs at me, yet he with much complies, Give her her way, and she would choose the best ; And all his vaunts of bliss are proud apologies." Though some, indeed, a sly remark would make, With such ideas treasured in his breast, Give it her not, and she would choose to take. He grew composed, and let his anger rest; All this, when Clubb some cheerful months had Till Counter once (when wine so long went mund spent,
That friendship and discretion both were drown'd) He saw, consess'd, and said he was content. Began in teasing and triumphant mood
Counter meantime selected, doubted, weigh'd, His evening banter.—“Of all earthly good, And then brought home a young complying maid ; | The best,” he said, “ was an obedient spouse, A tender creature, full of fears as charms,
Such as my friend's--that every one allows : A beauteous nursling from its mother's arms; What if she wishes his designs to know? A soft, sweet blossom, such as men must love, It is because she would her praise bestow ; But to preserve must keep it in the stove : What if she wills that he remains at home ? She had a mild, subdued, expiring look
She knows that mischief may from travel come. Raise but the voice, and this fair creature shook; I, who am free to venture where I please, Leave her alone, she felt a thousand fears Have no such kind preventing checks as these; Chide, and she melted into floods of tears ; But mine is double duty, first to guide Fondly she pleaded, and would gently sigh, Myself aright, then rule a house beside ; For very pity, or she knew not why;
While this our friend, more happy than the free, One whom to govern none could be afraid - Resigns all power, and laughs at liberty.” Hold up the finger, this meek thing obey'd ;
“ By Heaven,” said Clubb, “excuse me if I Her happy husband had the easiest task
swear, Say bui his will, no question would she ask; I'll bet a hundred guineas, if he daro, She sought no rcasons, no affairs she knew, That uncontrollid I will such freedoms take, Of business spoke not, and had naught to do. That he will fear to equal-there's my stake.” Oft he exclaim'd, “How meek! how mild ! how “A match !” said Counter, much by wine in. kind!
flamed ; With her 'twere cruel but to seem unkind ;
But we are friends ; let smaller stake be named: Though ever silent when I take my leave, Wine for our future meeting, that will I It pains my heart to think how hers will grieve; Take, and no more-what peril shall we try ?" "Tis heaven on earth with such a wise to dwell, " Let's to Newmarket,” Clubb replied ; " or choose I arn in raptures to have sped so well;
Yourself the place, and what you like to lose ; But let me not, my friend, your envy raise,
And he who first returns, or fears to go, No! on my life, your patience has my praise.”
Forfeits his cash_" Said Counter, Be it so." His friend, though silent, felt the scorn implied,
The friends around them saw with much delight ** What need of patience ?” to himself he cried : The social war, and hail'd the pleasant night ; “ Better a woman o'er her house to rule,
Nor would they further hear the cause discuss'd, Than a poor child just hurried from her school; Afraid the recreant heart of Clubb to trust. Who has no care, yet never lives at ease ;
Now sober thoughts return'd as each withdrew, Unfit to rule, and indisposed to please ;
And of the subject took a serious view : What if he govern? there his boast should end, “ 'Twas wrong," thought Counter, “and will No husband's power can make a slave his friend." grieve my love."
It was the custom of these friends to meet 'Twas wrong," thought Clubb, “my wise will With a few neighbours in a neighbouring street;
not approve : Where Counter oft times would occasion seize But friends were present; I must try the thing, To move his silent friend by words like these : Or with my folly half the town will ring." “ A man,” said he, “ if govern'd by his wife, He sought his lady ; “ Madam, I'm to blame, Gives up his rank and dignity in life ;
But was reproach'd, and could not bear the shame,
The quiet partner, when he chose to speak, To that Newmarket-(though I hate the place,
And I must go : by Heaven, if you resist
Let me with grace before my friends appear, Of all that boasting ; “Wants my friend applause ? You know the truth, and must not be severe; This plainly proves him not at perfect ease, He too must go, but that he will of course ; For, felt he pleasure, he would wish to please. Do you consent ?-I never think of force." These triumphs here for some regrets atone “ You never need,” the worthy dame replied • Men who are blest let other men alone.”
“The husband's honour is the woman's pride ;
If I in trifles be the wilful wife,
The lady fainted, and the husband sent Still for your credit I would lose my life; For every aid, for every comfort went; Go! and when fix'd the day of your return, Strong terror seized him; “O! she loved so Stay longer yet, and let the blockheads learn,
well, That though a wise may sometimes wish to rule, And who th' effect of tenderness could tell ?" She would not make th' indulgent man a fool ; She now recover'd, and again began I would at times advise—but idle they
With accent querulous—“Ah! cruel manWho think th' assenting husband must obey." Till the sad husband, conscience struck, conThe happy man, who thought his lady right
fess'd, In other cases, was assured to-night;
'Twas very wicked with his friend to jest ; Then for the day with proud delight prepared, For now he saw that those who were obey'd, To show his doubling friends how much he could like the most subservient feel afraid ; dared.
And though a wife might not dispute the will Counter-who grieving sought his bed, his or her liege lord, she could prevent it still. rest
The morning came, and Clubb prepared to ride Broken by pictures of his love distress'd
With a smart boy, his servant and his guide ; With soft and winning speech the fair prepared ; When, ere he mounted on the ready steed, “She all his counsels comforts, pleasures Arrived a letter, and he stopp'd to read. shared :
“My friend," he read—“Our journey I decline, She was assured he loved her from his soul, A heart too tender for such strife is mine; She never knew and need not fear control ; Yours is the triumph, be you so inclined, But so it happen'd he was grieved at heart But you are too considerate and kind. It happen'd so, that they a while must part In tender pity to my Juliet's fears A little time-the distance was but short,
I thus relent, o'ercome by love and tears ; And business callid him-he despised the sport ; She knows your kindness; I have heard her say, But to Newmarket he engaged to ride,
A man like you 'tis pleasure to obey : With his friend Clubb," and there he stopp'd and Each faithful wife, like ours, must disapprove sigh’d.
Such dangerous trifling with connubial love; A while the tender creature look'd dismay'd, What has the idle world, my friend, to do Then floods of tears the call of grief obey'd. With our affairs ? they envy me and you : “She an objection! No!" she sobb’d, “not What if I could my gentle spouse commandone ;
Is that a cause I should her tears withstand ? Her work was finish'd, and her race was run; And what if you, a friend of peace, submit For die she must, indeed she would not live To one you love-is that a theme for wit? A week alone, for all the world could give; 'Twas wrong, and I shall henceforth judge it weak He too must die in that same wicked place; Both of submission and control to speak : It always happen'd-was a common case ; Be it agreed that all contention cease, Among those horrid horses, jockeys, crowds,
And no such follies vex our future peace ; 'Twas certain death-they might bespeak their Let each keep guard against domestic strife, shrowds ;
And find nor slave nor tyrant in his wife." He would attempt a race, be sure to fall
Agreed,” said Clubb,“ with all my soul And she expire with terror—that was all;
agreed” With love like hers she was indeed unfit
And to the boy, delighted, gave his steed; To bear such horrors, but she must submit." “I think my friend has well his mind expressid, “ But for three days, my love! three days at And I assent; such things are not a jest." most"
" True," said the wise, “no longer he can hide “ Enough for me; I then shall be a ghost" The truth that pains him by his wounded pride : “ My honour's pledged !"—“O! yes, my dearest Your friend has found it not an easy thing, life,
Beneath his yoke, this yielding soul to bring ; I know your honour must outweigh your wise ; These weeping willows, though they seem inclined But ere this absence, have you sought a friend ? By every breeze, yet not the strongest wind I shall be dead-on whom can you depend ? Can from their bent divert this weak but stubborn Let me one favour of your kindness crave,
kind ; Grant me the stone mention'd for my grave." Drooping they seek your pity to excite, • Nay, love, attend-why, bless my soul-I But 'tis at once their nature and delight; say
Such women feel not; while they sigh and I will return-there-weep no longer-nay !"
weep, Well! I obey, and to the last am true,
'Tis but their habit-their affections sleep; But spirits fail me; I must die ; adieu !
They are like ice that in the hand we hold,
On such affection let not man rely,
“Go then, my love! it is a monstrous sum, But your friend's offer let us kindly take,
To all in turn full he allegiance swore,
And in his hat the various badges bore :
His liberal soul with every sect agreed,
Unheard their reasons, he received their creed ; -A tapster is a good trade, and an old cloak makes At church he deign'd the organ pipes to fill, a new jerkin; a wither'd serving-man, a fresh tapster. And at the meeting sang both loud and shrill :
Merry Wives of Windsor, act i. 8c. 3. But the full purse these different merits gain'd, A fellow, sir, that I have known go about with my By strong demands his lively passions drain'd; troll-my-dameg.
Liquors he loved of each inflaming kind,
To midnight revels flew with ardent mind ;
His boiling passions were by oaths express’d,
And lies he made his profit and his jest.
Such was the boy, and such the man had been,
But fate or happier fortune changed the scene; And whipp'd th’ offending Adam out of him.
A fever seized him, “ He should surely die_"
He fear'd, and lo! a friend was praying by ;
With terror moved, this teacher he address'd,
And all the errors of his youth confess'd:
The good man kindly clear'd the sinner's way
To lively hope, and counsell’d him to pray ;
Who then resolved, should he from sickness rise,
To quit cards, liquors, poaching, oaths, and lies : SOME to our hero have a hero's name
His health restored, he vet resolved, and grew Denied, because no father's he could claim; True to his masters, to their meeting true : Nor could his mother with precision state His old companions at his sober face A full fair claim to her certificate;
Laugh'd loud, while he, attesting it was grace, On her own word the marriage must depend - With tears besought them all his calling to emA point she was not eager to defend :
A convert meek, obedient, and afraid.
Suffice it then, our hero's name was clear, Pleased the grave friends, nor less his solemn For, call John Dighton, and he answer’d, “ Here!" tone, But who that name in early life assign'd
The lengthen'd face of care, the low and inward He never found, he never tried to find;
groan : Whether his kindred were to John disgrace, The stern good men exulted, when they saw Or John to them, is a disputed case ;
Those timid looks of penitence and awe; His infant state owed nothing to their care Nor thought that one so passive, humble, meek, His mind neglected, and his body bare ;
Had yet a creed and principles to seek. All his success must on himself depend,
The faith that reason finds, confirms, avows, He had no money, counsel, guide, or friend; The hopes, the views, the comforts she allowsBut in a market town an active boy
These were not his, who by his feelings found, Appear’d, and sought in various ways employ ; And by them only, that his faith was sound; Who soon, thus cast upon the world, began Feelings of terror these, for evil past, To show the talents of a thriving man.
Feelings of hope, to be received at last; With spirit high John learn'd the world to Now weak, now lively, changing with the day, brave,
These were his feelings, and he felt his way. And in both senses was a ready knave:
Sprung from such sources, will this faith remain Knave as of old, obedient, keen, and quick, While these supporters can their strength retain : Knave as at present, skill’d to shift and trick; As heaviest weights the deepest rivers pass, Some humble part of many trades he taught, While icy chains fast bind the solid mass ; He for the builder and the painter wrought; So, born of feelings, faith remains secure, For serving maids on secret errands ran,
Long as their firmness and their strength endure :
Such bridge is reason, and there faith relies,
His patrons, still disposed their aid to lend, Assistant poacher, he o'erlook'd the wood; Behind a counter placed their humble friend ; At an election John's impartial mind
Where pens and paper were on shelves display'd, Was to no cause nor oandidate confined ;
And pious pamphlets on the windows laid;
By nature active and from vice restrain'd, And growing pride in Dighton's mind was bred
And now, his health restored, his spirits eased, To make him humble, and confine his views
Might reason with him to some good effect; Simple and civil, loving and beloved,
Arm'd with authority, and led by love,
Deciding thus, and with this kind intent,
John,” said the teacher, “ Jolin, with great John had provision for the coming made :
And thou art careless, slumbering in the net; To think what trifles will dissolve the tie.
Unmindful art thou of thy early vow? John, now become a master of his trade,
Who at the morning meeting sees thee now? Perceived how much improvement might be made; Who at the evening ? where is brother John ? And as this prospect open'd to his view,
We ask-are answer'd, To the tavern gone : A certain portion of his zeal withdrew;
Thee on the Sabbath seldom we behold ; His fear abated_“What had he to fear Thou canst not sing, thou’rt nursing for a cold; His profits certain, and his conscience clear?" This from the churchmen thou hast learn'd, for they Above his door a board was placed by John, Have colds and fevers on the Sabbath day ; And, “ Dighton, stationer," was gilt thereon ; When in some snug warm room they sit, and pen His window next, enlarged to twice the size, Bills from their ledgers, (world entangled men!) Shone with such trinkets as the simple prize ; “See with what pride thou hast enlarged thy shop; While in the shop with pious works were seen To view thy tempting stores the heedless stop; The last new play, review, or magazine :
By what strange names dost thou these baubles In orders punctual, he observed—“ The books
To be the pander of a vicious taste ?
What's here? a book of dances --you advance Of what they print, the authors must beware." In goodly knowledge—John, wilt learn to dance? He held his patrons and his teachers dear, How ! ‘Go!-' it says, and to the devil go! But with his trade-they must not interfere. And shake thyself! I tremble—but 'tis so
'Twas certain now that John had lost the dread Wretch as thou art, what answer canst thou make ? And pious thoughts that once such terrors bred; 0! without question thou wilt go and shake. His habits varied, and he more inclined
What's here? the School for Scandal-pretty To the vain world, which he had half resign'd :
schools! He had moreover in his brethren seen,
Well, and art thou proficient in the rules ? Or he imagined, craft, conceit, and spleen; Art thou a pupil, is it thy design “They are but men,” said John, “and shall I then To make our names contemptible as thine ? Fear man's control, or stand in awe of men? Old Nick, a novel " 0! 'tis mighty well; 'Tis their advice, (their convert's rule and law,) A fool has courage when he laughs at hell; And good it is—I will not stand in awe.”
* Frolic and Fun,' the humours of .Tim Grin;' Moreover Dighton, though he thought of books Why, John, thou grow'st facetious in thy sin ; As one who chiefly on the title looks,
And what? 'th' Archdeacon's Charge '-'tis Yet sometimes ponder'd o'er a page to find,
We find thee fitted for each evil work-
Do print the Koran, and become a Turk. All these were read, and he began to feel
“ John, thou art lost; success and worldly pride Some self-approval on his bosom steal.
O’er all thy thoughts and purposes preside, Wisdom creates humility, but he
Have bound thee fast, and drawn thee far aside : Who thus collects it will not humble be :
Yet turn; these sin-traps from thy shop expel, No longer John was filled with pure delight Repent and pray, and all may yet be well. And humble reverence in a pastor's sight;
“ And here thy wife, thy Dorothy, behold, Who, like a grateful zealot, listening stood, How fashion's wanton robes her form infold! To hear a man so friendly and so good ;
Can grace, can goodness with such trappings But felt the dignity of one who made
dwell ? Ilimself important by a thriving trade;
John, thou hast made thy wife a Jezebel :