« VorigeDoorgaan »
A true hidalgo, free from every stain
Through the most Gothic gentlemen of Spain.
Or, being mounted, e'er got down again,
X. His mother was a learned lady, famed For every branch of
science knownIn every christian language ever named,
With virtues equall’d by her wit alone ;
And e'en the good with inward envy groan,
Al Calderon and greater part of Lopé,
She could have served him for the prompter's copy; For her Feinagle's were an useless art, And he himself obliged to shut up shop-he
Could never make a memory so fine as That which adorn'd the brain of Donna Inez.
Her noblest virtue was her magnanimity,
Her serious sayings darken’d to sublimity;
A prodigy-her morning dress was dimity,
XIII. She knew the Latin—that is, “ the Lord's prayer,"
And Greek—the alphabet, I 'm nearly sure ; She read some French romances here and there,
Although her mode of speaking was not pure ; For native Spanish she had no great care,
At least her conversation was obscure; Her thoughts were theorems, her words a problema, As if she deem'd that mystery would ennoble 'em.
And said there was analogy between 'em;
But I must leave the proofs to those who 've seen 'em;
way their judgments lean 'em, \ 'T is strange—the Hebrew noun which means · I am,' The English always use to govern d-n."
Miss Edgeworth's novels stepping from their covers,
Or “ Calebs' Wife" set out in quest of lovers, Morality's prim personification,
In which not envy's self a flaw discovers ; To others' share let “ female errors fall," For she had not even one-the worst of all,
modern female saint's comparison; So far above the cunning powers of hell,
Her guardian angel had giv'n up his garrison ;
As those of the best time-piece made by Harrison :
# The following is the 15th stanza, suppressed in the London editions ;
“Some women use their tongues; she look”d a lecture,
Each eye a sermon, and her brow a homily.
Like the lamented late Sir Samuel Romilly,
Whose suicide was almost an anomaly- 3
XVIII. Perfect she was, but as perfection is
Insipid in this naughty world of ours, Where our first parents never learn'd to kiss,
Till they were exiled from their earlier bowers, Where all was peace, and innocence, and bliss
(I wonder how they got through the twelve hours), Don Jose, like a lineal son of Eve, Went plucking various fruit without her leave.
With no great love for learning, or the learn'd,
And never dream'd his lady was concern'd : The world, as usual, wickedly inclined
To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn'd, Whisper'd he had a mistress, some said two, But for domestic quarrels one will do.
A great opinion of her own good qualities;
And such, indeed, she was in her moralities;
And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realities,
XXI. This was an easy matter with a man
Oft in the wrong, and never on his guard; And even the wisest, do the best they can,
Have moments, hours, and days, so unprepared, That you might “ brain them with their lady's fan,"
And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard, And fans turn into falchions in fair hands, And why and wherefore no one understands.
With persons of no sort of education,
Grow tired of scientific conversation :
lords of ladies intellectual, Inform us truly, have they not hen-peck'd you all?
any of the many could divine;
'T was surely no concern of theirs nor mine : I loathe that low vice curiosity;
But if there 's any thing in which I shine, ’T is in arranging all my friends' affairs, Not having, of my own, domestic cares.
XXIV. And so I interfered, and with the best
intentions, but their treatment was not kind; I think the foolish people were possess'd,
For neither of them could I ever find,
But that 's no matter, and the worst 's behind,
And mischief-making monkey from his birth ;
Upon the most unquiet imp on earth :
Their senses, they 'd have sent young master forth
XXVI. Don Jose and the Donna Inez led
For sometime an unhappy sort of life, Wishing each other, not divorced, but dead;
They lived respectably as man and wife, Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred,
And gave no outward signs of inward strife, Until at length the smother'd fire broke out, And put the business past all kind of doubt.
And tried to prove her loving lord was mad,
She next decided he was only bad;
No sort of explanation could be had,
And open'd certain trunks of books and letters,
And then she had all Seville for abettors, Besides her good old grandmother (who doted);
The hearers of her case became repeaters, Then advocates, inquisitors, and judges, Some for amusement, others for old grudges.
With such serenity her husband's woes,
Who saw their spouses kill'd, and nobly chose Never to say a word about them more
Calmly she heard each calumny that rose, And saw his agonies with such sublimity, That all the world exclaim'd " What magnanimity!"
XXX. No doubt, this patience, when the world is damning us,
Is philosophic in our former friends ; 'T is also pleasant to be deem'd magnanimous,
The more so in obtaining our own ends;
Conduct like this by no means comprehends :
And help them with a lie or two additional,
Any one else—they were become traditional;
By contrast, which is what we just were wishing all; And science profits by this resurrectionDead scandals form good subjects for dissection.
XXXII. Their friends had tried at reconciliation,
Then their relations, who made matters worse ('T were hard to tell upon a like occasion
To whom it may be best to have recourse-I can't
much for friend or yet relation) : The lawyers did their utmost for divorce, But scarce a fee was paid on either side Before, unluckily, Don Jose died.