His father's name was JoseDon, of course ;

A true hidalgo, free from every stain
Of Moor or Hebrew blood, he traced his source

Through the most Gothic gentlemen of Spain.
A better cavalier ne'er mounted horse,

Or, being mounted, e'er got down again,
Than Jose, who begot our hero, who
Begot—but that 's to come--Well, to renew :

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 ;
She made the cleverest people quite ashamed,

And e'en the good with inward envy groan,
Finding themselves so very much exceeded
In their own way by all the things that she did.


Her memory was a mine : she knew by heart

Al Calderon and greater part of Lopé,
So that if any actor miss'd his part,

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 favourite science was the mathematical,

Her noblest virtue was her magnanimity,
Her wit (she sometimes tried at wit) was Attic all,

Her serious sayings darken’d to sublimity;
In short, in all things she was fairly what I call

A prodigy-her morning dress was dimity,
Her evening silk, or, in the summer, muslin,
And other stuffs, with which I wont stay puzzling.

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.

She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue,

And said there was analogy between 'em;
She proved it somehow out of sacred song,

But I must leave the proofs to those who 've seen 'em;
But this I heard her say, and can't be wrong,
And all

think which

way their judgments lean 'em, \ 'T is strange—the Hebrew noun which means · I am,' The English always use to govern d-n."

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In short, she was a walking calculation,

Miss Edgeworth's novels stepping from their covers,
Or Mrs. Trimmer's books on education,

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,


Oh! she was perfect past all parallel

modern female saint's comparison; So far above the cunning powers of hell,

Her guardian angel had giv'n up his garrison ;
Even her minutest motions went as well

As those of the best time-piece made by Harrison :
In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her,
Save thine “ incomparable oil,” Macassar !

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# The following is the 15th stanza, suppressed in the London editions ;

“Some women use their tongues; she lookd a lecture,

Each eye a sermon, and her brow a homily.
An all in all sufficient self-director,

Like the lamented late Sir Samuel Romilly,
The law's expounder, and the state's corrector,

Whose suicide was almost an anomaly- 3
One sad example more that all is vanity,'
The jury brought their verdict in ‘Insanity.'?

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.

He was a mortal of the careless kind,

With no great love for learning, or the learn'd,
Who chose to go where'er he had a mind,

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.

Now Donna Inez had, with all her merit,

A great opinion of her own good qualities;
Neglect, indeed, requires a saint to bear it,

And such, indeed, she was in her moralities;
But then she had a devil of a spirit,

And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realities,
And let few opportunies escape
Of getting her liege lord into a scrape.


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.


'T is pity learned virgins ever wed

With persons of no sort of education,
Or gentlemen who, though well-born and bred,

Grow tired of scientific conversation :
I don't chuse to say


this head,
I 'm a plain man, and in a single station,


lords of ladies intellectual, Inform us truly, have they not hen-peck'd you all?

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Don Jose and his lady quarrell’d—why,

any of the many could divine;
Though several thousand people chose to try,

'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,
Although their porter afterwards confess'd—

But that 's no matter, and the worst 's behind,
For little Juan o'er me threw, down stairs,
A pail of housemaid's water unawares.

A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing,

And mischief-making monkey from his birth ;
His parents ne'er agreed, except in doting

Upon the most unquiet imp on earth :
Instead of quarrelling, had they been but both in

Their senses, they 'd have sent young master forth
To school, or had him soundly whipp'd at home,
To teach him manners for the time to come,

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.

For Inez call’d some druggists and physicians,

And tried to prove her loving lord was mad,
But as he had some lucid intermissions,

She next decided he was only bad;
Yet when they ask'd her for her depositions,

No sort of explanation could be had,
Save that her duty both to man and God
Required this conduct--which seem'd very odd.

She kept a journal, where his faults were noted,

And open'd certain trunks of books and letters,
All which might, if occasion served, be quoted ;

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.

And then this best and meekest woman bore

With such serenity her husband's woes,
Just as the Spartan ladies did of yore,

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;
And what the lawyers call "malus animus,

Conduct like this by no means comprehends :
Revenge in person 's certainly no virtue,
But then 't is not my fault if others hurt you.


And if our quarrels should rip up old stories,

And help them with a lie or two additional,
I 'm not to blame, as you well know, no more is

Any one else—they were become traditional;
Besides, their resurrection aids our glories

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.

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