And begg'd he'd call at proper time of day; King told her, " she must fetch her master down, "A chaise was ready, he was leaving town,
"But first, had much of deep concern to say." Thus urg'd, she went the snoring man to call, And long, indeed, was she oblig'd to bawl,
Ere she could rouse the torpid lump of clay; At last, he wakes -he rises-and he swears, But scarcely had he totter'd down the stairs, When King attacks him in the usual way. The Frenchman now perceiv'd 'twas all in vain, To this tormentor mildly to complain,
And strait in rage his crest began to rear: "Sare, what de devil make you treat me so? "Sare, I inform you, sare, tree nights ago,
"Got tam, I swear, no Monsieur Tonson here!" True as the night, King went, and heard a strife Between the harass'd Frenchman and his wife,
Which should descend to chase the fiend away;
At length, to join their forces they agree,
And straitimpetuously they turn the key,
Prepar'd with mutual fury for the fray.
Our hero, with the firmness of a rock,
Collected to receive the mighty shock!
Utt'ring the old inquiry, calmly stood.
The name of Thompson rais'd the storm so high,
He deem'd it then the safest plan to fly;
With, "well, I'll call when you're in gentler mood."
In short, our hero, with the same intent,
Full many a night to plague the Frenchman went;
So fond of mischief was the wicked wit:
They threw out water - for the watch they call-
But King expecting, still escapes from all;
Monsieur, at last, was fore'd his house to quit.
It happen'd that our wag, about this time,
On some fair prospect sought the Eastern clime;
Garrick's Farewell Address.
Six ling'ring years were there his tedious lot,
At length, content, amid his rip'ning store,
He treads again on Britain's happy shore,
And his long absence is at once forgot.
To London, with impatient hope he flies,
And the same night, as former freaks arise,
He fain must stroll, the well known haunt to trace; "Ah! here's the scene of frequent mirth," he said, "My poor old Frenchman, 1 suppose, is dead;
"Egad, I'll knock, and see who holds his place." With rapid strokes, he makes the mansion roar, And while he eager eyes the op'ning door,
Lo! who obeys the knocker's rattling peal? Why e'en our little Frenchman, strange to say! Had ta'en his old abode that very day;
Capricious turn of sportive fortune's wheel!
Without one thought of the relentless foe,
Who, fiend-like, haunted him so long ago,
Just in his former trim he now appears!
The waistcoat, and the night-cap, seem'd the same,
With rushlight, as before, he creeping came,
And King's detested voice astonish'd hears.
As if some hideous spectre struck his sight,
His senses seem'd bewilder'd with affright;
His face, indeed, bespoke a heart full sore;
Then, starting, he exclaim'd in rueful strain,
"By Got, here's Monsieur Tonson come again!"
Away he ran, and ne'er was heard of more.
GARRICK'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,
It has been customary with persons, under my circumstances, to address you in a Farewell Epilogue: I had the intention, and turned my thoughts that way, but found myself then as incapable of writing such an Epilogue, as I should be now of speaking it-the jingle of rhyme and the language of fiction, would but ill suit my present feel
The Double Transformation.
ings. This is to me a very awful moment; it is no less than parting for ever with those from 'whom I have received the greatest kindness and favours, and upon that spot, where that kindness and those favours were enjoyed.-(Here, for a moment, he was unable to proceed, until relieved by a flood of tears) -Whatever may be the changes of my future life, the deep impressions I have of your kindness will always remain here, -(Putting his hand to his breast, -fixed and unalterable. I will very readily agree to my successors having more skill and ability for their stations than I have; but I defy them all to take more sincere and more uninterrupted pains for your favour, or to be more truly sensible of it, than is your most obedient and grateful humble servant.
THE DOUBLE TRANSFORMATION.
A TALE: -WRITTEN BY DR. GOLDSMITH.
Secluded from domestic strife,
Jack Book-worm led a college life;
A fellowship at twenty-five,
Made him the happiest man alive;
He drank his glass, and crack'd his joke,
And fresh-men wonder'd as he spoke.
Such pleasures, unalloy'd with care,
Could any accident impair ?
Could Cupid's shaft at length transfix
Our swain, arriv'd at thirty-six?
O, had the archer ne'er come down,
To ravage in a country town!
Or Flavia been content to stop
At triumphs in a Fleet-street shop!
O, had her eyes forgot to blaze!
Or Jack had wanted eyes to gaze.
O!--but let exclamation cease;
Her presence banish'd all his pace:
So with decorum all things carried,
Miss frown'd, and blush'd, and then was-married.
Need we expose to vulgar sight
The raptures of the bridal night?
The Double Transformation.
Need we intrude on hallow'd ground,
Or draw the curtains clos'd around?
Let it suffice, that each had charms:
He clasp'd a goddess in his arms;
And, though she felt his usage rough,
Yet in a man 'twas well enough.
The honey-moon like light'ning flew;
The second brought its transports too:
A third, a fourth, were not amiss;
The fifth was friendship, mix'd with bliss:
But, when a twelvemonth pass'd away,
Jack found his goddess made of clay;
Found half the charms that deck'd her face
Arose from powder, shreds, or lace;
But still, the worst remain'd behind,
That very face had robb'd her mind.
Skill'd in no other arts was she,
But dressing, patching, repartee;
And, just as humour rose or fell,
By turns a slattern or a belle;
'Tis true, she dress'd with modern grace,
Half-naked at a ball or race;
But when at home, at board or bed,
Five greasy night-caps wrapther head.
Could so much beauty condescend
To be a dull domestic friend?
Could any curtain lectures bring
To decency, so fine a thing?
In short, by night, 'twas fits or fretting;
By day, 'twas gadding or coquetting;
Fond to be seen, she kepta bevy
Of powder'd coxcombs at her levee;
The 'squire and captain took their stations,
And twenty other near relations.
Jack suck'd his pipe, and often broke
A sigh in suffocating smoke;
While all their hours were pass'd between
Insulting repartee or spleen.
....
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The Double Transformation.
Thus, as her faults each day were known,
He thinks her features coarser grown:
He fancies ev'ry vice she shews,
Or thins her lip, or points her nose;
Whenever rage or envy rise,
How wide her mouth, how wild her eyes;
He knows not how, but so it is,
Her face is grown a knowing phiz;
And, tho' her fops are wond'rous civil,
He thinks her ugly as the devil.
Now, to perplex the ravell'd noose,
As each a different way pursues,
While sullen or loquacious strife,
Promis'd to hold them on for life,
That dire disease, whose ruthless pow'r,
Withers the beauty's transient flow'r.
Lo! the small-pox, whose horrid glare,
Levell'd its terror at the fair;
And, rifling ev'ry youthful grace,
Left but the remnant of a face.
The glass, grown hateful to her sight,
Reflected now a perfect fright:
Each former art she vainly tries
To bring back lustre to her eyes.
In vain she tries her pastes and creams,
To smooth her skin, and hide its seams;
Her country beaux and city cousins,
Lovers no more, flew off by dozens:
The 'squire himself was seen to yield,
And ev'n the captain quit the field.
Poor madam now, condemn'd to hack
The rest of life with anxious Jack,
Perceiving others fairly flown,
Attempted pleasing him alone.
Jack soon was dazzled, to behold,
Her present face surpass the old;
With modesty her cheeks are dy'd,
Humility displaces pride;
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