Page images

Contempt. From Macedonia's madman to the Swede.

The whole strange purpose of their lives to find,
(1) Or make- an enemy of all mankind.

Not one looks backward: onward still he goes;
Yet ne'er looks forward farther than his nose.
No less alike the politic and wise;

(2) All sly, slow things, with circumspective


Men in their loose, unguarded hours they take,
Not that themselves are wise, but others weak;

Remonftr. But grant that those can conquer these can


Averfion. "Tis phrase absurd to call a villain great.
Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave,
Is but more the fool, the more a knave.
Approba. Who noble ends by noble means obtains,
Or, failing, smiles in exile, or in chains,
Admiration Like good Aurelius let him reign; or bleed
Like Socrates; that man is great indeed.


What's fame? A fancy'd life in others breath, A thing beyond us, e'en before our death.

Just what you hear's your own; and what's un-

The saine (my lord!) if Tully's or your own.
All, that we feel (3) of it, begins and ends
In the small circle of our foes, or friends;
To all besides as much an empty shade,
An Eugene living, as a Cæsar dead;
Alike or when, or where, they shone, or shine,
Or on the Rubicon, or on the Rhine,

Contempt. A vit's a feather, and a chief's a rod;
Approba. An honest man's the noblest work of God.




Fame, but from death a villain's name can save,
As justice tears his body from the grave;
When what t'oblivion better were resign'd,

(1) I have put a pause, after make, though to the contrary to general rule, to mark the antithefis between find and make, more diftinctly.

(2)" All fly, Now things," to be pronounced very flowly, and with a cunning lok.

(3)" All that we feel," &c. to be expreffed with the right hand laid upon the breast.

Is hung on high to poison half mankind.
All fame is foreign, but of true desert,

Plays round the head, but comes not to the Contempt. heart. (1)

One self-approving hour whole years outweighs
Of stupid starers, and of loud huzzas ;
And more true joy Marcellus exil'd feels,
Than Casar with a senate at his heels.

In parts superior what advantage lies?
Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise?
'Tis but to know, how little can be known;
To see all other's faults and feel our own;
Condemn'd in bus' ness, or in arts to drudge
Without a second, and without a judge.
Truths would you teach, to save a sinking land,
All fear; none aid you; and few understand.
Painful pre-eminence! yourself to view
Above life's weakness, and its comforts too.

Bring then these blessings to a strict account,
Make fair deductions: see to what they 'mount,
How much of other each is sure to cost;
How each for other oft is wholly lost;
How inconsistent greater goods with these;
How sometimes life is risk'd, and always ease,
Think. And if still such things thy envy call,





Say, would'st thou be the man to whom they Question.


To sigh for ribbands, if thou art so silly,
Mark how they grace Lord Umbra, or Sir Billy.
Is yellow dirt the passion of thy life?
Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' wife.
If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shin'd,
The wisest, brightest-meanest of mankind.
Or ravish'd with the whistling of a name,
See Cromwell damn'd to everlasting fame:
If all united thy ambition call,

From ancient story learn to scorn them all.

[ocr errors]


(1)- Comes not to the heart," to be spoken with the right hand laid upon the breast. As is likewife, "Marcellus exil'd" feels," in the line below.











The meeting of Humphrey Gubbin and Mr. Pounce.

(From the Comedy of the TENDER HUSBAND.)

Humph. How prettily this park is stock'd

with soldiers, and deer, and ducks, and ladies.Ha! Where are the old fellows gone? Where can they be, trow? I'll ask these people.A--a--a--you pretty young gentleman, [to FainQueftion. love] did you see Vather?





Fain. Your father, Sir?

Humph. Ey, my Vather, a weasel-faced cross old gentleman, with spindle shanks ? Fain. No, Sir.

Humph. A crab stick in his hand.

Pounce. We have met nobody with these marks. But sure I have seen you before, are you not Mr. Humphrey Gubbin, son and heir to Sir Harry Gubbin?


Humph. Ey, ey, an that were all, I'se his son; but how lung I shall be his heir, I can't tell for a talks o' disinheriting on ma every day! Pounce. Dear Sir, I am glad to see you. I have had a desire to be acquainted with you ever since I saw you clench your fist at your father, when his back was turned toward you. I love a young man of spirit.

Humph. Why, Sir, would it not vex a man to the very heart, blood and guts on him, to have a crabbed old fellow snubbing a body every minute before company?

Pounce. Why, Mr. Humphrey, he uses you like a boy.

Humph. Like a boy, quotha! He uses me like Complain- a dog. A lays ma on now and then, e'en as if a were a breaking a hound to the game.-You can't.


think what a tantrum a was in this morning, because I boggled a little at marrying my own born cousin.

Pounce. A man can't be too scrupulous, Mr. Cautioning.. Humphrey; a man can't be too scrupulous.


Humph. Why, Sir, I could as soon love my Complainmy own flesh and blood. We should squabble like brother and sister, not like man and wife. Do think we should not Mr.gentlemen, may I crave your names ?


Pray, Question.

Pounce. Sir, I am the very person, that has been employed to draw up the articles of marriage between you and your cousin.

Humph. Ho, ho! say you so? Then mayhap, you can tell one some things one wants to know.. A-a-pray, Sir, what estyeate an I heir to?



Pounce. To fifteen hundred pounds a year, Information

intailed estate.

Humph. Sniggers! I'se glad on't with all my heart. And-a- -a-can you satisfy ma in another question-Pray, how old be I?

Pounce. Three and twenty last March.




Humph. Plague on it! As sure as you are Vexation. there, they have kept ma back. I have been told by goody Clack, or goody Tipple, I don't know which, that I was born the very year the stone pig stie was built; and every body knows the pig stie in the back close is three and twenty years old. I'll be duck'd in a horse pond, if here has not been tricks play'd ma. But, pray, Sir may'nt I Question. crave your name ?

Pounce. My name, Sir, is Pounce, at your Information


Humph. Pounce with a P

Pounce. Yes, Sir, and Samuel with an S.

Humph. Why, then, Mr. Samuel Pounce, Earneftness. chuckling and wriggling, and rubbing his hands earnestly] do you know any clever gentlewoman of your acquaintance, that you think I could like? For I'll be hang'd like a dog, an I



han't taken a right down aversion to my cousin, ever since Vather proposed her to ma. And since every body knows I came up to be married, I should not care to go down again with a flee in my ear and look balk'd, d'ye see.

Pounce. [After a pause.] Why, Sir, I have a thought just come into my head. And if you will walk along with this gentleman and me, where we are going, I will communicate it. Humph. With all my heart, good Mr. Samuel Pounce. (Exeunt.)



From Æneas's account of the Sack of Troy. (Dryd. Virg. Æn. II.)

Attention. ALL





ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
Great queen! What you command me to relate
Renews the sad remembrance (1) of our fate;
An empire from its old foundations rent,
And every woe the Trojans underwent ;
A pop'lous city made a desart place;
All that I saw and part of which I was;
Not ev'n the hardest of our foes could hear,
Nor stern Ulysses tell without a tear.


'Twas now the dead of night, when sleep re-

Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares,
When Hector's ghost (2) before my sight appears;
Shrouded in blood he stood, and bath'd in tears
Such as when by the fierce Pelides slain,

Thessalian coursers dragg'd him o'er the plain.
Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs were


(1) The words, " sad remembrance,” may be spoken with a sigh, and the right-hand laid upon the breast.

(2) The words, "Hector's Ghost," may be fpoken with a start, and the attitude of fear. See Fear, page 21.

« PreviousContinue »