Volume I Part 29 (2/2)
What agony of soul she feels To see a knave's inverted heels!
She draws up card by card, to find Good fortune peeping from behind; With panting heart, and earnest eyes, In hope to see spadillo rise; In vain, alas! her hope is fed; She draws an ace, and sees it red; In ready counters never pays, But p.a.w.ns her snuff-box, rings, and keys; Ever with some new fancy struck, Tries twenty charms to mend her luck.
”This morning, when the parson came, I said I should not win a game.
This odious chair, how came I stuck in't?
I think I never had good luck in't.
I'm so uneasy in my stays: Your fan, a moment, if you please.
Stand farther, girl, or get you gone; I always lose when you look on.”
”Lord! madam, you have lost codille: I never saw you play so ill.”
”Nay, madam, give me leave to say, 'Twas you that threw the game away: When Lady Tricksey play'd a four, You took it with a matadore; I saw you touch your wedding ring Before my lady call'd a king; You spoke a word began with H, And I know whom you meant to teach, Because you held the king of hearts; Fie, madam, leave these little arts.”
”That's not so bad as one that rubs Her chair to call the king of clubs; And makes her partner understand A matadore is in her hand.”
”Madam, you have no cause to flounce, I swear I saw you thrice renounce.”
”And truly, madam, I know when Instead of five you scored me ten.
Spadillo here has got a mark; A child may know it in the dark: I guess'd the hand: it seldom fails: I wish some folks would pare their nails.”
While thus they rail, and scold, and storm, It pa.s.ses but for common form: But, conscious that they all speak true, And give each other but their due, It never interrupts the game, Or makes them sensible of shame.
The time too precious now to waste, The supper gobbled up in haste; Again afresh to cards they run, As if they had but just begun.
But I shall not again repeat, How oft they squabble, snarl, and cheat.
At last they hear the watchman knock, ”A frosty morn--past four o'clock.”
The chairmen are not to be found, ”Come, let us play the other round.”
Now all in haste they huddle on Their hoods, their cloaks, and get them gone; But, first, the winner must invite The company to-morrow night.
Unlucky madam, left in tears, (Who now again quadrille forswears,) With empty purse, and aching head, Steals to her sleeping spouse to bed.
THE LOGICIANS REFUTED
Logicians have but ill defined As rational, the human kind; Reason, they say, belongs to man, But let them prove it if they can.
Wise Aristotle and Smiglesius, By ratiocinations specious, Have strove to prove, with great precision, With definition and division, _h.o.m.o est ratione praeditum;_ But for my soul I cannot credit 'em, And must, in spite of them, maintain, That man and all his ways are vain; And that this boasted lord of nature Is both a weak and erring creature; That instinct is a surer guide Than reason, boasting mortals' pride; And that brute beasts are far before 'em.
_Deus est anima brutorum._ Whoever knew an honest brute At law his neighbour prosecute, Bring action for a.s.sault or battery, Or friend beguile with lies and flattery?
O'er plains they ramble unconfined, No politics disturb their mind; They eat their meals, and take their sport Nor know who's in or out at court.
They never to the levee go To treat, as dearest friend, a foe: They never importune his grace, Nor ever cringe to men in place: Nor undertake a dirty job, Nor draw the quill to write for Bob.[1]
Fraught with invective, they ne'er go To folks at Paternoster Row.
No judges, fiddlers, dancing-masters, No pickpockets, or poetasters, Are known to honest quadrupeds; No single brute his fellow leads.
Brutes never meet in b.l.o.o.d.y fray, Nor cut each other's throats for pay.
Of beasts, it is confess'd, the ape Comes nearest us in human shape; Like man, he imitates each fas.h.i.+on, And malice is his lurking pa.s.sion: But, both in malice and grimaces, A courtier any ape surpa.s.ses.
Behold him, humbly cringing, wait Upon the minister of state; View him soon after to inferiors Aping the conduct of superiors; He promises with equal air, And to perform takes equal care.
He in his turn finds imitators, At court, the porters, lacqueys, waiters, Their masters' manner still contract, And footmen, lords and dukes can act.
Thus, at the court, both great and small Behave alike, for all ape all.
[Footnote 1: Sir Robert Walpole, and his employment of party-writers.--_W. E. B._]
THE ELEPHANT; OR, THE PARLIAMENT MAN
WRITTEN MANY YEARS SINCE; AND TAKEN FROM c.o.kE'S FOURTH INSt.i.tUTE THE HIGH COURT OF PARLIAMENT, CAP. I
Sir E. c.o.ke says: ”Every member of the house being a counsellor should have three properties of the elephant; first that he hath no gall; secondly, that he is inflexible and cannot bow; thirdly, that he is of a most ripe and perfect memory ... first, to be without gall, that is, without malice, rancor, heat, and envy: ... secondly, that he be constant, inflexible, and not be bowed, or turned from the right either for fear, reward, or favour, nor in judgement respect any person: ...
thirdly, of a ripe memory, that they remembering perils past, might prevent dangers to come.”--_W. E. B._
Ere bribes convince you whom to choose, The precepts of Lord c.o.ke peruse.
Observe an elephant, says he, And let him like your member be: First take a man that's free from _Gaul_, For elephants have none at all; In flocks or parties he must keep; For elephants live just like sheep.
Stubborn in honour he must be; For elephants ne'er bend the knee.
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