Chapter 19

EXAMPLE often proves of sov'reign use; At other times it cherishes abuse; 'Tis not my purpose, howsoe'er, to tell Which of the two I fancy to excel. Some will conceive the Abbess acted right, While others think her conduct very light Be that as 'twill, her actions right or wrong, I'll freely give a license to my tongue, Or pen, at all events, and clearly show, By what some nuns were led to undergo, That flocks are equally of flesh and blood, And, if one passes, hundreds stem the flood, To follow up the course the first has run, And imitate what t'other has begun. When Agnes passed, another sister came, And ev'ry nun desired to do the same; At length the guardian of the flock appeared, And likewise passed, though much at first she feared. The tale is this, we purpose to relate; And full particulars we now will state.

AN Abbess once a certain illness had, Chlorosis named, which oft proves very bad, Destroys the rose that decorates the cheek, And renders females languid, pale, and weak. Our lady's face was like a saint's in Lent: Quite wan, though otherwise it marked content. The faculty, consulted on her case, And who the dire disorder's source would trace, At length pronounced slow fever must succeed, And death inevitably be decreed, Unless;--but this unless is very strange Unless indeed she some way could arrange; To gratify her wish, which seemed to vex, And converse be allowed with t'other sex: Hippocrates, howe'er, more plainly speaks, No circumlocutory phrase he seeks.

O JESUS! quite abashed the Abbess cried; What is it?--fy!--a man would you provide? Yes, they rejoined, 'tis clearly what you want, And you will die without a brisk gallant; One truly able will alone suffice; And, if not such, take two we would advise. This still was worse, though, if we rightly guess, 'Twas by her wished, durst she the truth confess. But how the sisterhood would see her take Such remedies and no objection make? Shame often causes injury and pain; And ills concealed bring others in their train.

SAID sister Agnes, Madam, take their word; A remedy like this would be absurd, If, like old death, it had a haggard look, And you designed to get by hook or crook. A hundred secrets you retain at ease; Can one so greatly shock and you displease?-- You talk at random, Agnes, she replied; Now, would you for the remedy decide, Upon your word, if you were in my place?-- Yes, madam, said the nun, and think it grace; Still more I'd do, if necessary thought; Your health, by me, would ev'ry way be sought, And, if required by you to suffer this, Not one around would less appear remiss; Sincere affection for you I have shown, And my regard I'll ever proudly own.

A THOUSAND thanks the Abbess gave her friend; The doctors said:--no use for them to send; Throughout the convent sad distress appeared; When Agnes, who to sage advice adhered, And was not thought the weakest head around, A kinder soul perhaps could not be found, Said to the sisterhood,--What now retains Our worthy Abbess, and her will enchains, Is nothing but the shame of pow'rs divine, Or else, to what's prescribed she would resign. Through charity will no one take the lead, And, by example, get her to proceed?

THE counsel was by ev'ry one approved, And commendation through the circle moved.

IN this design not one, nor grave, nor old, Nor young, nor prioress, at all seemed cold; Notes flew around, and friends of worth and taste, The black, the fair, the brown, appeared in haste; The number was not small, our records say, Not (what might be) appearance of delay, But all most anxious seemed the road to show, And what the Abbess feared, at once to know; None more sincerely 'mong the nuns desired, That shame should not prevent what was required. Nor that the Abbess should, within her soul, Retain what might injuriously control.

NO sooner one among the flock had made The step, of which the Abbess was afraid, But other sisters followed in the train:-- Not one behind consented to remain; Each forward pressed, in dread to be the last; At length, from prejudice the Abbess passed; To such examples she at last gave way, And, to a youth, no longer offered nay.

THE operation o'er, her lily face Resumed the rose, and ev'ry other grace. O remedy divine, prescription blessed! Thy friendly aid to numbers stands confessed; The friends of thousands, friend of nature too; The friend of all, except where honour 's due. This point of honour is another ill, In which the faculty confess no skill.

WHAT ills in life! what mis'ries dire around, While remedies so easy may be found!

THE TRUCKERS

THE change of food enjoyment is to man; In this, t'include the woman is my plan. I cannot guess why Rome will not allow Exchange in wedlock, and its leave avow; Not ev'ry time such wishes might arise, But, once in life at least, 'twere not unwise; Perhaps one day we may the boon obtain; Amen, I say: my sentiments are plain; The privilege in France may yet arrive There trucking pleases, and exchanges thrive; The people love variety, we find; And such by heav'n was ere for them designed.

ONCE there dwelled, near Rouen, (sapient clime) Two villagers, whose wives were in their prime, And rather pleasing in their shape and mien, For those in whom refinement 's scarcely seen. Each looker-on conceives, LOVE needs not greet Such humble wights, as he would prelates treat.

IT happened, howsoe'er, both weary grown, Of halves that they so long had called their own; One holyday, with them there chanced to drink The village lawyer (bred in Satan's sink); To him, said one of these, with jeering air, Good mister Oudinet, a strange affair Is in my head: you've doubtless often made Variety of contracts; 'tis your trade: Now, cannot you contrive, by one of these, That men should barter wives, like goods, at ease? Our pastor oft his benefice has changed; Is trucking wives less easily arranged? It cannot be, for well I recollect, That Parson Gregory (whom none suspect) Would always say, or much my mem'ry fails, My flock 's my wife: love equally prevails; He changed; let us, good neighbour do the same; With all my heart, said t'other, that's my aim; But well thou know'st that mine's the fairest face, And, Mister Oudinet, since that's the case, Should he not add, at least, his mule to boot? My mule? rejoined the first, that will not suit; In this world ev'ry thing has got its price: Mine I will change for thine and that 's concise. Wives are not viewed so near; naught will I add; Why, neighbour Stephen, dost thou think me mad, To give my mule to boot?--of mules the king; Not e'en an ass I'd to the bargain bring; Change wife for wife, the barter will be fair; Then each will act with t'other on the square.

THE village lawyer now the friends addressed: Said he, Antoinetta is confessed To have superior charms to those of Jane; But still, if I may venture to be plain, Not always is the best what meets the eye, For many beauties in concealment lie, Which I prefer; and these are hid with care; Deceptions, too, are practised by the FAIR; Howe'er, we wish the whole to be disclosed, Too much, 'tis said, they must not be exposed.

NOW, neighbours, let us fair arrangement make: A pig in poke you'd neither give nor take; Confront these halves in nature's birth-day suit; To neither, then, will you deceit impute. The project was most thoroughly approved; Like inclination both the husbands moved.

ANTOINETTA, said the second spouse, Has neither ill nor scratch her fears to rouse. Jane, cried the first, is ev'ry way complete; No freckles on the skin: as balm she's sweet: Antoinetta is, her spouse replied, Ambrosia ev'ry way: no fault to hide.

SAID t'other:--Don't so confident appear; Thou know'st not Jane: her ways would marble cheer; And there's a play:--thou understand'st no doubt? To this rejoined the second village lout, One diff'rence only have my wife and I: Which plays the prettiest wiles is what we try; Thou'lt very soon of these know how to think; Here's to thee, neighbour; Mister Oud'net, drink; Come, toast Antoinetta; likewise Jane; The mule was granted, and the bargain plain: Our village lawyer promised to prepare, At once, the writings, which would all declare. This Oudinet a good apostle proved Well paid for parchment, or he never moved: By whom was payment made?--by both the dames; On neither husband showed he any claims.

THE village clowns some little time supposed That all was secret: not a hint disclosed; The parson of it, howsoe'er, obtained Some intimation, and his off'rings gained. I was not present, fully I admit; But rarely clergymen their dues will quit. The very clerk would not remit his fee:-- All those who serve the church in this agree.

THE permutation could not well be made, But scandal would such practices upbraid; In country villages each step is seen; Thus, round the whisper went of what had been, And placed at length the thorn where all was ease; The pow'rs divine alone it could displease. 'Twas pleasant them together to behold; The wives, in emulation, were not cold; In easy talk they'd to each other say: How pleasing to exchange from day to day! What think you, neighbour, if, to try our luck, For once we've something new, and valets truck? This last, if made, the secret had respect; The other had at first a good effect.

FOR one good month the whole proceeded well; But, at the end, disgust dispersed the spell; And neighbour Stephen, as we might suppose, Began dissatisfaction to disclose; Lamented much Antoinetta's stop; No doubt he was a loser by the swop; Yet neighbour Giles expressed extreme regret, That t'other from him ought to boot should get: Howe'er, he would retrucking not consent, So much he otherwise appeared content.

IT happened on a day, as Stephen strayed Within a wood, he saw, beneath a shade, And near the stream, asleep, and quite alone, Antoinetta, whom he wished his own. He near her drew, and waked her with surprise; The change ne'er struck her when she ope'd her eyes; The gay gallant advantage quickly took, And, what he wished, soon placed within his hook. 'Tis said, he found her better than at first; Why so? you ask: was she then at the worst? A curious question, truly, you've designed; In Cupid's am'rous code of laws you'll find-- Bread got by stealth, and eat where none can spy, Is better far than what you bake or buy; For proof of this, ask those most learn'd in love Truth we prefer, all other things above; Yet Hymen, and the god of soft desire, How much soe'er their union we admire, Are not designed together bread to bake; In proof, the sleeping scene for instance take. Good cheer was there: each dish was served with taste; The god of love, who often cooks in haste, Most nicely seasoned things to relish well; In this he's thought old Hymen to excel.

ANTOINETTA, to his clasp restored, Our neighbour Stephen, who his wife adored, Quite raw, howe'er, in this, exclaimed apart Friend Giles has surely got some secret art, For now my rib displays superior charms, To what she had, before she left my arms. Let's take her back, and play the Norman trick Deny the whole, and by our priv'lege stick.

IMMEDIATELY he ev'ry effort tried, To get the bargain fully set aside. Giles, much distressed, exerted all his might, To keep his prize, and prove his conduct right. The cause was carried to the bishop's court; Much noise it made, according to report. At length the parliament would hear the claim, And judge a case of such peculiar fame.

THE village lawyer, Oudinet, was brought; From him, who drew the contract, truth was sought; There rests the cause, for 'tis of recent date; While undecided, more we cannot state.

HOW silly neighbour Stephen must appear! He went against his int'rest now 'tis clear; For, when superior pleasure he was shown, The fascinating fair was not his own. Good sense would whisper then, 'twere full as well, To let remain with Giles the beauteous belle; Save now and then, within the leafy shade, Where oft Antoinetta visits made, And warbled to the shrubs and trees around; There he might easily the nymph have found, But, if with ease it could not be obtained, Still greater pleasure he would then have gained.

GO preach me this to silly country louts; These, howsoe'er, had managed well their bouts, It must not be denied, and all was nice; To do the like perhaps 'twill some entice. I much regret my lot was not the same, Though doubtless many will my wishes blame.

THE CASE OF CONSCIENCE

THOSE who in fables deal, bestow at ease Both names and titles, freely as they please. It costs them scarcely any thing, we find. And each is nymph or shepherdess designed; Some e'en are goddesses, that move below, From whom celestial bliss of course must flow.

THIS Horace followed, with superior art:-- If, to the trav'ller's bed, with throbbing heart, The chambermaid approached, 'twas Ilia found, Or fair Egeria, or some nymph renowned.

GOD, in his goodness, made, one lovely day, Apollo, who directs the lyrick lay, And gave him pow'rs to call and name at will, Like father Adam, with primordial skill. Said he, go, names bestow that please the ear; In ev'ry word let sweetest sound appear. This ancient law then proves, by right divine, WE oft are sponsors to the royal line.

WHEN pleasing tales and fables I endite, I, who in humble verse presume to write, May surely use this privilege of old, And, to my fancy, appellations mould. If I, instead of Anne, should Sylvia say, And Master Thomas (when the case I weigh) Should change to Adamas, the druid sage, Must I a fine or punishment engage? No, surely not:--at present I shall choose Anne and the Parson for my tale to use.

WITHIN her village, Anne was thought the belle, And ev'ry other charmer to excel. As near a river once she chanced to stray, She saw a youth in Nature's pure array, Who bathed at ease within the gliding stream; The girl was brisk, and worthy of esteem, Her eyes were pleased; the object gave delight; Not one defect could be produced in sight; Already, by the shepherdess adored, If with the belle to pleasing flights he'd soared, The god of love had all they wished concealed None better know what should not be revealed. Anne nothing feared: the willows were her shade, Which, like Venetian blinds, a cov'ring made; Her eyes, howe'er, across had easy view, And, o'er the youth, each beauty could pursue.

SHE back four paces drew, at first, through shame; Then, led by LOVE, eight others forward came; But scruples still arose that ardour foiled, And nearly ey'ry thing had truly spoiled. Anne had a conscience pure as holy fire; But how could she abstain from soft desire? If, in the bosom chance a flame should raise, Is there a pow'r can then subdue the blaze? At first these inclinations she withstood; But doubting soon, how those of flesh and blood Could sins commit by stepping in advance, She took her seat upon the green expanse, And there attentively the lad observed, With eyes that scarcely from him ever swerved.

PERHAPS you've seen, from Nature, drawings made? Some Eve, or Adam, artists then persuade, In birth-attire to stand within their view, While they with care and taste each trait pursue; And, like our shepherdess, their stations take, A perfect semblance ev'ry way to make.

ANNE in her mem'ry now his image placed; Each line and feature thoroughly she traced, And even now the fair would there remain, If William (so was called this youthful swain) Had not the water left; when she retired, Though scarcely twenty steps from him admired, Who, more alert than usual then appeared, And, by the belle, in silence was revered.

WHEN such sensations once were in the breast, Love there we may believe would hardly rest.

THE favours Anne reserved he thought his own, Though expectations oft away have flown. The more of this I think, the less I know; Perhaps one half our bliss to chance we owe!

BE this as 'twill, the conscientious Anne Would nothing venture to regale her man; Howe'er, she stated what had raised her fear, And ev'ry thing that made her persevere.

WHEN Easter came, new difficulties rose Then, in confession, ALL she should disclose. Anne, passing peccadillos in review, This case aside, as an intruder threw; But parson Thomas made her all relate; And ev'ry circumstance most clearly state; That he, by knowing fully each defect, Might punishment accordingly direct, In which no father-confessor should err, Who absolution justly would confer. The parson much his penitent abused; Said he, with sensual views to be amused, Is such a sin, 'tis scarcely worse to steal; The sight is just the same as if you feel.

HOWE'ER, the punishment that he imposed Was nothing great:--too slight to be disclosed; Enough to say, that in the country round, The father-confessors, who there abound, As in our own, (perhaps in ev'ry part,) Have devotees, who, when they ought to smart, A tribute pay, according to their lot, And thus indulgences are often got.

THIS tribute to discharge the current year, Much troubled Anne, and filled her breast with fear, When William, fishing, chanced a pike to hook, And gave it to his dear at once to cook, Who, quite delighted, hastened to the priest, And begged his rev'rence on the fish to feast. The parson with the present much was pleased; A tap upon the shoulder care appeased; And with a smile he to the bringer said This fish, with trifles on the table spread, Will all complete; 'twas holyday we find, When other clergy with our rector dined. Will you still more oblige, the parson cried, And let the fish at home by you be fried? Then bring it here:--my servant's very new, And can't attempt to cook as well as you. Anne hastened back; meanwhile the priests arrived, Much noise, and rout of course, once these were hived; Wines from the vault were brought without delay; Each of the quality would something say.

THE dinner served; the dean at table placed; Their conversation various points embraced; To state the whole would clearly endless be; In this no doubt the reader will agree. They changed and changed, and healths went round and round; No time for scandal while such cheer was found; The first and second course away were cleared, Dessert served up, yet still no pike appeared. The dinner o'er without th' expected dish, Or even a shadow of the promised fish. When William learned the present Anne had made, His wish, to have it cancelled, with her weighed. The rector was surprised, you may suppose, And, soon as from the table all arose, He went to Anne, and called her fool and knave, And, in his wrath, could scarcely secrets wave, But nearly her reproached the bathing scene; What, treat, said he, your priest like base and mean?

ANNE archly answered, with expression neat:-- The sight is just the same as if you eat!

THE DEVIL OF POPE-FIG ISLAND

BY master Francis clearly 'tis expressed: The folks of Papimania are blessed; True sleep for them alone it seems was made With US the copy only has been laid; And by Saint John, if Heav'n my life will spare, I'll see this place where sleeping 's free from care. E'en better still I find, for naught they do: 'Tis that employment always I pursue. Just add thereto a little honest love, And I shall be as easy as a glove.

ON t'other hand an island may be seen, Where all are hated, cursed, and full of spleen. We know them by the thinness of their face Long sleep is quite excluded from their race.

SHOULD you, good reader, any person meet, With rosy, smiling looks, and cheeks replete, The form not clumsy, you may safely say, A Papimanian doubtless I survey. But if, on t'other side, you chance to view, A meagre figure, void of blooming hue, With stupid, heavy eye, and gloomy mien Conclude at once a Pope-figir, you've seen.