LXIII. Now justices of peace must judge all pieces Of those who have not a licence for the same; LXIV. The present culprit was extremely pale, 'Tis white, at least when they just rise from bed Perhaps she was ashamed of seeming frail, Poor soul for she was country born and bred, And knew no better in her immorality Than to wax white-for blushes are for quality. LXV. Her black, bright, downcast, yet espiègle eye, Nor insolent enough to scorn the scorner, LXVI. Of course these groups were scatter'd here and there, The prize pig, ploughman, poachers; the men sent From town, viz. architect and dealer, were Both busy (as a general in his tent Writing despatches) in their several stations, Exulting in their brilliant lucubrations. LXVII. But this poor girl was left in the great hall, She waited until Justice could recall Its kind attentions to their proper pale, LXVIII. You see here was enough of occupation For the Lord Henry, link'd with dogs and horses. There was much bustle too, and preparation Below stairs on the score of second courses; Because, as suits their rank and situation, Those who in counties have great land resources Have " public days," when all men may carouse, Though not exactly what's called " open house." LXIX. But once a week or fortnight, uninvited (Thus we translate a general invitation) All country gentlemen, esquired or knighted, May drop in without cards, and take their station At the full board, and sit alike delighted With fashionable wines and conversation; And, as the isthmus of the grand connection, LXX. Lord Henry was a great electioneerer, LXXI. Courteous and cautious therefore in his county, And promises to all-which last commenced LXXII. A friend to freedom and freeholders-yet 'Twixt place and patriotism-albeit compell'd, Such was his sovereign's pleasure, (though unfit, He added modestly, when rebels rail'd,) To hold some sinecures he wish'd abolish'd, He was LXXIII. "free to confess"-(whence comes this phrase? Is't English? No-'tis only parliamentary) That innovation's spirit now-a-days Had made more progress than for the last century. He would not tread a factious path to praise, Though for the public weal disposed to venture high; As for his place, he could but say this of it, That the fatigue was greater than the profit. LXXIV. Heaven, and his friends, knew that a private life Which threaten'd the whole country with perdition? When demagogues would with a butcher's knife Cut through and through (oh ! damnable incision!) The Gordian or the Geordi-an knot, whose strings Have tied together commons, lords, and kings. LXXV. Sooner "come place into the civil list [keep it, And champion him to the utmost—” (1) he would Till duly disappointed or dismiss'd: Profit he cared not for, let others reap it; But should the day come when place ceased to exist, LXXVI. He was as independent—ay, much more— Than those who were not paid for independence, As common soldiers, or a common hore, Have in their several arts or parts ascendance O'er the irregulars in lust or gore, Who do not give professional attendance. Thus on the mob all statesmen are as eager Το prove their pride, as footmen to a beggar. LXXVII. All this (save the last stanza) Henry said, Off-or upon the hustings-some slight such No more on this—the dinner-bell hath rung, (1) "Rather than so, come, fate, into the list, And champion me to the utterance."- Macbeth. |