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AN ENGLISH PADLOCK.

MISS Danaë, when fair and young,

(As Horace has divinely fung)

Could not be kept from Jove's embrace
By doors of steel, and walls of brass.
The reafon of the thing is clear,
Would Jove the naked truth aver.
Cupid was with him of the party;
And fhew'd himself fincere and hearty;
For, give that whipfter but his errand,
He takes my lord chief justice' warrant;
Dauntlefs as death
he walks ;

away

Breaks the doors open, fnaps the locks;
Searches the parlour, chamber, study;
Nor ftops till he has culprit's body.
Since this has been authentic truth,
By age deliver'd down to youth;
Tell us, mistaken husband, tell us,
Why fo mysterious, why so jealous?
Does the restraint, the bolt, the bar,
Make us lefs curious, her lefs fair?
The fpy, which does this treasure keep,
Does the ne'er fay her prayers, nor fleep?
Does the to no excefs incline?

Does the fly mufic, mirth, and wine?
Or have not gold and flattery power
To purchase one unguarded hour?

Your

Your care does further yet extend :
That spy is guarded by your friend.—
But has this friend nor eye nor heart?
May he not feel the cruel dart,
Which, foon or late, all mortals feel?
May he not, with too tender zeal,
Give the fair prisoner cause to see,
How much he wishes fhe were free?
May he not craftily infer

The rules of friendship too fevere,
Which chain him to a hated truft;
Which make him wretched, to be just ?
And may not fhe, this darling fhe,
Youthful and healthy, flesh and blood,
Eafy with him, ill us'd by thee,
Allow this logic to be good?
Sir, will your questions never end?
I truft to neither spy nor friend.
In fhort, I keep her from the fight
Of every human face.-She 'll write.
From pen and paper fhe's debarr'd.-
Has fhe a bodkin and a card?

She'll prick her mind.-She will, you fay :
But how fhall fhe that mind convey?
I keep her in one room: I lock it :
The key (look here) is in this pocket.
The key-hole, is that left? Moft certain,
She'll thruft her letter through-Sir Martin.
Dear angry friend, what must be done?
Is there no way-There is but one.

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Send her abroad: and let her fee,
That all this mingled mass, which she,
Being forbidden, longs to know,
Is a dull farce, an empty fhow,
Powder, and pocket-glafs, and beau;
A ftaple of romance and lies,

Falfe tears and real perjuries:

Where fighs and looks are bought and fold;
And love is made but to be told

Where the fat bawd and lavish heir
The fpoils of ruin'd beauty share ;
And youth, feduc'd from friends and fame,
Muft give up age to want and fhame.
Let her behold the frantic fcene,
The women wretched, false the men :
And when, thefe certain ills to fhun,
She would to thy embraces run;
Receive her with extended arms,
Seem more delighted with her charms;
Wait on her to the park and play,
Put on good-humour; make her gay;
Be to her virtues very kind;
Be to her faults a little blind;

Let all her ways be unconfin'd;
And clap your padlock-on her mind.

}

HANS

HANS CAR VEL,

HA

ANS CARVEL, impotent and old,
Married a lafs of London mould:
Handfome? enough; extremely gay:
Lov'd mufic, company, and play :
High flights fhe had, and wit at will
And fo her tongue lay feldom ftill:
For in all vifits who but the,

To argue, or to repartée ?

4

She made it plain, that human paffion

Was order'd by predeftination;

That, if weak women went aftray,

Their ftars were more in fault than they :

Whole tragedies fhe had by heart;

Enter'd into Roxana's part:

To triumph in her rival's blood,

The action certainly was good.

How like a vine young Ammon curl❜d { ̈
Oh that dear conqueror of the world!
She pitied Betterton in age,

That ridicul'd the god-like rage.

She, first of all the town, was told,
Where newest India things were fold:
So in a morning, without bodice,
Slipt fometimes out to Mrs. Thody's ;-
To cheapen tea, to buy a fcreen:
What elfe could fo much virtue mean?

For,

All well; but pr'ythee, honeft Hans,
(Says Satan) leave your complaifance
The truth is this: I cannot stay
Flaring in fun-shine all the day :
For, entre nous, we hellish fprites
Love more the frefco of the nights
And oftener our receipts convey
In dreams, than any other way.
I tell you therefore as a friend,

Ere morning dawns, your fears fhall end :
Go then this evening, mafter Carvel,

Lay down your fowls, and broach your barrel;
Let friends and wine diffolve your care;
Whilft I the great receipt prepare :
To-night I'll bring it, by my faith !
Believe for once what Satan faith.

Away went Hans: glad? not a little ;

Obey'd the Devil to a tittle;

Invited friends fome half a dozen,

The Colonel and my Lady's coufin.

The meat was ferv'd; the bowls were crown'd;
Catches were fung; and healths went round;
Barbadoes waters for the clofe;

Till Hans had fairly got his dofe :

The Colonel toafted" to the best :"

The Dame mov'd off, to be undrest:

The chimes went twelve: the guests withdrew:
But when, or how, Hans hardly knew.

Some modern anecdotes aver,

He nodded in his elbow-chair ;

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