XXVIII.

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.

XXIX.

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 dam

ning us,

Is philosophic in our former friends;

"Tis also pleasant to be deem'd magnanimous,
The more so in obtaining our own ends;
And what the lawyers call a,,malus animus,"
Conduct like this by no means comprehends:
Revenge in person's certainly no virtue,
But then 'tis not my fault, if others hurt you.

XXXI.

And if our quarrels should rip up old stories,

And help them with a lie or two addițional, 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 resurrection —

Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection.

XXXII.

Their friends had tried at reconciliation,

Then their relations, who made matters worse; (Twere hard to tell upon a like occasion

To whom it may be best to have recourse I can't say much for friend or yet relation): The lawyers did their utmost for divorce, But scarce a fee was paid on either side Before, unluckily, Dón Jóse died.

XXXIII.

He died and most unluckily, because,
According to all hints I could collect

From counsel learned in those kinds of laws,
(Although their talk's obscure and circumspect)
His death contrived to spoil a charming cause ;;
A thousand pities also with respect

To public feeling, which on this occasion.
Was manifested in a great sensation.

XXXIV.

But ah! he died; and buried with him lay
The publie feeling and the lawyers' fees:
His house was sold, his servants sent away,
A Jew took one of his two mistresses,
A priest the other at least so they say:
I ask'd the doctors after his disease,
He died of the slow fever call'd the tertian,
And left his widow to her own aversion.

XXXV.

Yet Jóse was an honourable man,

That I must say, who knew him very well; Therefore his frailties Pll no further scan, Indeed there were not many more to tell; And if his passions now and then outran

Discretion, and were not so peaceable

As Numa's (who was also named Pompilius),

He had been ill brought up, and was born bilious.

XXXVI.

Whate'er might be his worthlessness or worth, Poor fellow! he had many things to wound him, Let's own, since it can do no good on earth;

It was a trying moment that which found him Standing alone beside his desolate hearth, Where all his household gods lay shiver'd round

him;

No choice was left his feelings or his pride Save death or Doctors' Commons so he died.

XXXVII.

Dying intestate, Juan was sole heir

To a chancery suit, and messuages, and lands, Which, with a long minority and care,

Promised to turn out well in proper hands: Inez became sole guardian, which was fair, And answer'd but to nature's just demands; An only son left with an only mother Is brought up much more wisely than another.