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But small the portion, and the wrong'd were wroth, The absent sick were s Nor to their debtor would a part allow;

And where to live he knew not-knew not how.

The wife a cottage found, and thither went
The suppliant man, but she would not relent:
Thenceforth she utter'd with indignant tone,
"I feel the misery, and will feel alone."
He would turn servant for her sake, would keep
The poorest school; the very streets would sweep,
To show his love." It was already shown:
And her affliction should be all her own.

As her free bounty soug

A plain and homely ch
And loved the objects
With her own hands sh
With her own fingers v
She heard all tales that
And took a double inte
But of all husbands not
So vile, so mean, so cr
This bounteous lady

His wants and weakness might have touch'd her To search th' abodes of

heart,

But from his meanness she resolved to part."

46

In a small alley was she lodged, beside
Its humblest poor, and at the view she cried,
Welcome-yes! let me welcome, if I can,
The fortune dealt me by this cruel man;
Welcome this low thatch'd roof, this shatter'd
door,

These walls of clay, this miserable floor;
Welcome, my envied neighbours; this, to you,
Is all familiar-all to me is new;

You have no hatred to the loathsome meal;
Your firmer nerves no trembling terrors feel,
Nor, what you must expose, desire you to conceal;
What your coarse feelings bear without offence.
Disgusts my taste, and poisons every sense:
Daily shall I your sad relations hear,
Of wanton women, and of men severe ;
There will dire curses, dreadful oaths abound,
And vile expressions shock me and confound;
Noise of dull wheels, and songs with horrid words,
Will be the music that this lane affords;
Mirth that disgusts, and quarrels that degrade
The human mind, must my retreat invade :
Hard is my fate! yet easier to sustain
Than to abide with guilt and fraud again;
A grave impostor! who expects to meet,
In such gray locks -- cavity, deceit ?
Where the sea rages, and the billows roar,
Men know the danger, and they quit the shore;
But, be there nothing in the way descried,
When o'er the rocks smooth runs the wicked tide,
Sinking unwarn'd, they execrate the shock,
And the dread peril of the sunken rock."

A frowning world had now the man to dread,
Taught in no arts, to no profession bred;
Pining in grief, beset with constant care,
Wandering he went, to rest he knew not where.
Meantime the wife-but she abjured the name-
Endured her lot, and struggled with the shame ;
When lo an uncle on the mother's side,
In nature something, as in blood allied,
Admired her firmness, his protection gave,
And show'd a kindness she disdain'd to crave.

Frugal and rich the man, and frugal grew
The sister mind, without a selfish view;
And further still; the temperate pair agreed
With what they saved the patient poor to feed:
His whole estate, when to the grave consign'd.

The gentle Susan serv
Unlike their notions, y

No practised villain co
Than this stern lady m
Nor (if detected in his
One less disposed to pa
The wrong she treasur
Received th' offender,
But the kind servant, t
A fourth time listen'd,

First in her youth, w
Came a smooth rogue,
Then to another and a
To boast the wanton n
Yet she forgave him, t
That she was never b

Then came a spoiler Implored her hand, an He seized her purse, i With a vile wanton, w Five years she suffer'd Then came to show h Alone he came, his vi And he, a wandering His body wasted, with When this kind soul b Nay, she was sure tha No better husband we For him she mourn'd, Sought and found com Ten years she served, Her tasks were pleasu

Thus lived the mist Each other's aid-one Oft at their window, To see the aged and t Like wounded bees, t Slowly and weak, but

The busy people of The curious lady view With steady motion s Through blocks of stc It gave her pleasure Among these men the Cold was the season, Tedious their tasks, b There she beheld an Patient and still, to ta

Within the panniers d

author would a name suppress,
-ast hint a reader learns to guess;
lost our novels sometimes treat,
are-assured again to meet :
writer for concealment tries,
is purpose under all disguise;

he tells us they are dead and gone, e wot-they will appear anon;

es fight, are wounded, hopeless lie, y cannot-nay, they cannot die; ese tricks and stratagems are known, once, the simple truth to own. the husband; in an humble shed slept, and daily sought his bread : Lief the weary man applied;

is rich," the angry vestry cried: ared not to his wife complain, wrongs, and fearing her disdain: methods he had tried to live, effort would subsistence give: usher in a school, till noise ess able than the weaker boys; she went, till he in vain

es, or words, or meanings to retain ; employment in each neighbouring town took, to lay as quickly down: is fate, he fail'd in all he plann'd, g prosper'd in his luckless hand. home, his motive half suppress'd, no more for riches, but for rest : the bounteous wife, and at her gate heerful groups the needy wait; right with bolder hope t' apply?" as answer'd, and went groaning by -mains of spirit, temper, pride, prayer he knew would be denied. the grieving man, with burden'd ass, day along the street to pass:

, Susan? who the poor old man? alls; do make him, if you can.' Dus damsel still delay'd to speak, confused, and had her words to seek; 's fears the fact her mistress knew, -"The wretch! what scheme has he ew?

ot ?-but let him, let him feelthe courage, not the will to steal." ul winter came, each day severe, mild, and icy cold when clear; e humble dealer took his load, slow, and shivering on the road: =till relentless, saw him come, I wonder, has the wretch a home?"hovel "-" Then his fate appears crime."-" Yes, lady, not his years ;8 sufferings, nor that form decay'd."the parish give its paupers aid; the vileness of his acts allow."dear lady, that he feels it now."_ch dissemblers on their deeds reflect, he pity they refused expect?

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wrong;

But look, (God bless him!) how he gropes along.""Brought me to shame."-"O! yes, I know it all;

What cutting blast! and he can scarcely crawl;
He freezes as he moves; he dies! if he should fall
With cruel fierceness drives this icy sleet,
And must a Christian perish in the street,
In sight of Christians?-There! at last, he lies;-
Nor unsupported can he ever rise:

He cannot live."-" But is he fit to die?".
Here Susan softly mutter'd a reply,

Look'd round the room, said something of its

state,

Dives the rich, and Lazarus at his gate;
And then aloud-" In pity do behold

The man affrighten'd, weeping, trembling, cold:
O how those flakes of snow their entrance win
Through the poor rags, and keep the frost within;
His very heart seems frozen as he goes,
Leading that starved companion of his woes :
He tried to pray-his lips, I saw them move,
And he so turn'd his piteous looks above;
But the fierce wind the willing heart opposed,
And, ere he spoke, the lips in misery closed:
Poor suffering object! yes, for ease you pray'd,
And God will hear-he only, I'm afraid."

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When reach'd his home, to what a cheerless fire
And chilling bed will those cold limbs retire!
Yet ragged, wretched as it is, that bed
Takes half the space of his contracted shed;
I saw the thorns beside the narrow grate,
With straw collected in a putrid state:
There will he, kneeling, strive the fire to raise,
And that will warm lum, rather than the blaze;
The sullen, smoky blaze, that cannot last
One moment after his attempt is past :
And I so warmly and so purely laid,
To sink to rest-indeed, I am afraid."-
"Know you his conduct?'-"Yes, indeed, I
know-

And how he wanders in the wind and snow:
Safe in our rooms the threatening storm we hear,
But he feels strongly what we faintly fear."-

Wilful was rich, and he the storm defied, Wilful is poor, and must the storm abide ;" Said the stern lady-" "Tis in vain to feel; Go and prepare the chicken for our meal."

Susan her task reluctantly began,

And utter'd as she went-" The poor old man!"
But while her soft and ever-yielding heart
Made strong protest against her lady's part,
The lady's self began to think it wrong
To feel so wrathful and resent so long.

Great his offence, and evil was his mind,—
But he had suffer'd, and she would be kind :
She spurn'd such baseness, and she found
within

A fair acquittal from so foul a sin;

Yet she too err'd, and must of Heaven expect
To be rejected, him should she reject."

Susan was summon'd; "I'm about to do
A foolish act, in part seduced by you;
Go to the creature, say that I intend,
Foe to his sins, to be his sorrow's friend;
Take, for his present comforts, food and wine,
And mark his feelings at this act of mine:
Observe if shame be o'er his features spread,
By his own victim to be soothed and fed;
But, this inform him, that it is not love
That prompts my heart, that duties only move:
Say, that no merits in his favour plead,
But miseries only, and his abject need;

Nor bring me grovelling thanks, nor high-flown praise;

I would his spirits, not his fancy raise;
Give him no hope that I shall ever more
A man so vile to my esteem restore ;
But warn him rather, that, in time of rest,
His crimes be all remember'd and confess'd:
I know not all that form the sinner's debt,
But there is one that he must not forget."

The mind of Susan prompted her with speed
To act her part in every courteous deed:
All that was kind she was prepared to say,
And keep the lecture for a future day;
When he had all life's comforts by his side,
Pity might sleep, and good advice be tried.
This done, the mistress felt disposed to look,
As self-approving, on a pious book:
Yet, to her native bias still inclined,
She felt her act too merciful and kind;
But when, long musing on the chilling scene
So lately past-the frost and sleet so keen-
The man's whole misery in a single view-
Yes! she could think some pity was his due.

Thus fix'd, she heard not her attendant glide With soft slow step-till, standing by her side, The trembling servant gasp'd for breath, and shed

Relieving tears, then utter'd-" He is dead!"

"Dead!" said the startled lady. "Yes, he

fell

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ib. act. ii. sc. 1. COUNTER and CLUBB were men in trade, whose pains,

Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains;
Partners and punctual, every friend agreed
Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed.
When they had fix'd some little time in life,
Each thought of taking to himself a wife;
As men in trade alike, as men in love
They seem'd with no according views to move;
As certain ores in outward view the same,
They show'd their difference when the magnet

came.

Counter was vain: with spirit strong and high,
"Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh:
"His wife might o'er his men and maids preside,
And in her province be a judge and guide;
But what he thought, or did, or wish'd to do,
She must not know, or censure if she knew;
At home, abroad, by day, by night, if he
On aught determined, so it was to be :
How is a man," he ask'd, " for business fit,
Who to a female can his will submit?
Absent a while, let no inquiring eye
Or plainer speech presume to question why,
But all be silent; and, when seen again,
Let all be cheerful;-shall a wife complain?
Friends I invite, and who shall dare t' object.
Or look on them with coolness or neglect?
No! I must ever of my house be head,
And, thus obey'd, I condescend to wed."
Clubb heard the speech-" My friend is nice,
said he;

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A wife with less respect will do for me: How is he certain such a prize to gain? What he approves, a lass may learn to feign, And so affect t' obey, till she begins to reign;

Close at the door where he was wont to dwell;
There his sole friend, the ass, was standing by,
Half dead himself, to see his master die."
"Expired he then, good Heaven! for want of A while complying, she may vary then,

food?"

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And be as wives of more unwary men;
Besides, to him who plays such lordly part
How shall a tender creature yield her heart?
Should he the promised confidence refuse,
She may another more confiding choose;
May show her anger, yet her purpose hide,
And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride.
In one so humbled, who can trace the friend?
I on an equal, not a slave, depend;
If true, my confidence is wisely placed,
And being false, she only is disgraced."
Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye around,
And one so easy soon a partner found.
The lady chosen was of good repute;
Meekness she had not, and was seldom mute;

Thougn quick to anger, still she loved to smile;
And would be calm if men would wait a while.
She knew her duty, and she loved her way,
More pleased in truth to govern than obey;
She heard her priest with reverence, and her spouse
As one who felt the pressure of her vows;
Useful and civil, all her friends confess'd,
Give her her way, and she would choose the best;
Though some, indeed, a sly remark would make,
Give it her not, and she would choose to take.
All this, when Clubb some cheerful months had
spent,

He saw, confess'd, and said he was content.

Counter meantime selected, doubted, weigh'd,
And then brought home a young complying maid;
A tender creature, full of fears as charms,
A beauteous nursling from its mother's arms;
A soft, sweet blossom, such as men must love,
But to preserve must keep it in the stove:
She had a mild, subdued, expiring look-
Raise but the voice, and this fair creature shook;
Leave her alone, she felt a thousand fears-
Chide, and she melted into floods of tears;
Fondly she pleaded, and would gently sigh,
For very pity, or she knew not why;
One whom to govern none could be afraid-
Hold up the finger, this meek thing obey'd;
Her happy husband had the easiest task-
Say but his will, no question would she ask;
She sought no reasons, no affairs she knew,
Of business spoke not, and had naught to do.
Oft he exclaim'd, "How meek! how mild! how
kind!

With her 'twere cruel but to seem unkind;
Though ever silent when I take my leave,
It pains my heart to think how hers will grieve;
Tis heaven on earth with such a wife to dwell,
I am in raptures to have sped so well;
But let me not, my friend, your envy raise,
No! on my life, your patience has my praise."

His friend, though silent, felt the scorn implied,
"What need of patience?" to himself he cried :
"Better a woman o'er her house to rule,
Than a poor child just hurried from her school;
Who has no care, yet never lives at ease;
Unfit to rule, and indisposed to please;
What if he govern? there his boast should end,
No husband's power can make a slave his friend."
It was the custom of these friends to meet
With a few neighbours in a neighbouring street;
Where Counter oft times would occasion seize
To move his silent friend by words like these:
"A man," said he, "if govern'd by his wife,
Gives up his rank and dignity in life;
Now better fate befalls my friend and me"—
He spoke, and look'd th' approving smile to see.
The quiet partner, when he chose to speak,
Desired his friend," another theme to seek ;
When thus they met, he judged that state affairs
And such important subjects should be theirs."
But still the partner, in his lighter vein,
Would cause in Clubb affliction or disdain ;
It made him anxious to detect the cause
Of all that boasting; "Wants my friend applause?
This plainly proves him not at perfect ease,
For, felt he pleasure, he would wish to please.
These triumphs here for some regrets atone—
Men who are blest let other men alone.".

Thus made suspicious, he observed and saw
His friend each night at early hour withdraw;
He sometimes mention'd Juliet's tender nerves,
And what attention such a wife deserves:
"In this," thought Clubb, "full sure some mystery
lies-

He laughs at me, yet he with much complies,
And all his vaunts of bliss are proud apologies."
With such ideas treasured in his breast,
He grew composed, and let his anger rest;
Till Counter once (when wine so long went round
That friendship and discretion both were drown'd)
Began in teasing and triumphant mood
His evening banter.-" Of all earthly good,
The best," he said, " was an obedient spouse,
Such as my friend's-that every one allows :
What if she wishes his designs to know?

It is because she would her praise bestow;
What if she wills that he remains at home?
She knows that mischief may from travel come.
I, who am free to venture where I please,
Have no such kind preventing checks as these;
But mine is double duty, first to guide
Myself aright, then rule a house beside;
While this our friend, more happy than the free,
Resigns all power, and laughs at liberty."
"By Heaven," said Clubb, "excuse me if I

swear,

I'll bet a hundred guineas, if he dare, That uncontroll'd I will such freedoms take, That he will fear to equal-there's my stake." "A match!" said Counter, much by wine inflamed;

But we are friends; let smaller stake be named: Wine for our future meeting, that will I Take, and no more-what peril shall we try?" "Let's to Newmarket," Clubb replied; "or choose Yourself the place, and what you like to lose; And he who first returns, or fears to go, Forfeits his cash-" Said Counter, “Be it so."

The friends around them saw with much delight The social war, and hail'd the pleasant night; Nor would they further hear the cause discuss'd, Afraid the recreant heart of Clubb to trust.

Now sober thoughts return'd as each withdrew, And of the subject took a serious view:

""Twas wrong," thought Counter, "and will grieve my love."

""Twas wrong," thought Clubb, "my wife will not approve :

But friends were present; I must try the thing,
Or with my folly half the town will ring.”

He sought his lady; "Madam, I'm to blame,
But was reproach'd, and could not bear the shame,
Herein my folly-for 'tis best to say
The very truth-I've sworn to have my way:
To that Newmarket-(though I hate the place,
And have no taste or talents for a race,
Yet so it is-well, now prepare to chide)—
I laid a wager that I dared to ride;
And I must go by Heaven, if you resist
I shall be scorn'd, and ridiculed, and hiss'd;
Let me with grace before my friends appear,
You know the truth, and must not be severe;
He too must go, but that he will of course;
Do you consent ?-I never think of force."

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If I in trifles be the wilful wife,
Still for your credit I would lose my life;
Go! and when fix'd the day of your return,
Stay longer yet, and let the blockheads learn,
That though a wife may sometimes wish to rule,
She would not make th' indulgent man a fool;
I would at times advise-but idle they
Who think th' assenting husband must obey."

The happy man, who thought his lady right
In other cases, was assured to-night;
Then for the day with proud delight prepared,
To show his doubting friends how much
dared.

he

The lady fainted, and the husband sent
For every aid, for every comfort went;
Strong terror seized him; "O! she loved so
well,

And who th' effect of tenderness could tell?"
She now recover'd, and again began
With accent querulous-“Ah! cruel man-"
Till the sad husband, conscience struck, con-
fess'd,

'Twas very wicked with his friend to jest;
For now he saw that those who were obey'd,
Could like the most subservient feel afraid;
And though a wife might not dispute the will

Counter-who grieving sought his bed, his Of her liege lord, she could prevent it still.

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The morning came, and Clubb prepared to ride
With a smart boy, his servant and his guide;
When, ere he mounted on the ready steed,
Arrived a letter, and he stopp'd to read.

"My friend," he read-"Our journey I decline,
A heart too tender for such strife is mine;
Yours is the triumph, be you so inclined,
But you are too considerate and kind.
In tender pity to my Juliet's fears

I thus relent, o'ercome by love and tears;

She knows your kindness; I have heard her say,
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.

A while the tender creature look'd dismay'd, Then floods of tears the call of grief obey'd. "She an objection! No!" she sobb'd,

one ;

"not

Her work was finish'd, and her race was run;
For die she must, indeed she would not live
A week alone, for all the world could give;
He too must die in that same wicked place;
It always happen'd-was a common case;
Among those horrid horses, jockeys, crowds,
"Twas certain death-they might bespeak their
shrowds;

He would attempt a race, be sure to fall-
And she expire with terror-that was all;
With love like hers she was indeed unfit
To bear such horrors, but she must submit."

Such dangerous trifling with connubial love;
What has the idle world, my friend, to do
With our affairs? they envy me and you :
What if I could my gentle spouse command-
Is that a cause I should her tears withstand?
And what if you, a friend of peace, submit
To one you love-is that a theme for wit?
"Twas wrong, and I shall henceforth judge it weak
Both of submission and control to speak:
Be it agreed that all contention cease,
And no such follies vex our future peace;
Let each keep guard against domestic strife,
And find nor slave nor tyrant in his wife."
"Agreed," said Clubb, "with all my soul
agreed❞—

And to the boy, delighted, gave his steed;
"I think my friend has well his mind express'd,

"But for three days, my love! three days at And I assent; such things are not a jest.”

most-"

"Enough for me; I then shall be a ghost-"
"My honour's pledged!"-"O! yes, my dearest
life,

I know your honour must outweigh your wife;
But ere this absence, have you sought a friend?
I shall be dead-on whom can you depend?
Let me one favour of your kindness crave,
Grant me the stone I mention'd for my grave."
Nay, love, attend-why, bless my soul-I
say

I will return-there-weep no longer-nay!"
"Well! I obey, and to the last am true,
But spirits fail me; I must die; adieu!'

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weep,

'Tis but their habit-their affections sleep; They are like ice that in the hand we hold,

"What, madam! must ?-'tis wrong-I'm angry- So very melting, yet so very cold;

zounds!

Can I remain and lose a thousand pounds?"

"Go then, my love! it is a monstrous sum,

On such affection let not man rely,
The husbands suffer, and the ladies sigh:
But your friend's offer let us kindly take,

Worth twenty wives-go, love! and I am dumb-And spare his pride for his vexation's sake;

Nor be displeased-had I the power to live,
You might be angry, now you must forgive;
Alas! I faint-ah! cruel-there's no need
Of wounds or fevers-this had done the deed."

For he has found, and through his life will find,
'Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind-
More just when it resists, and, when it yields, more
kind."

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