Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

materials to make up; to play Pope Joan with the curate; to read a novel to my aunt; or to be stuck down to an old spinet to strum my father to sleep after a fox-chase.

Sir P. I am glad you have so good a memory. Yes, madam, these were the recreations I took you from; but now you must have your coach-vis-a-vis 5 — and three powdered footmen before your chair; and, in the summer, a pair of white cats to draw you to Kensington Gardens. No recollection, I suppose, when you were content to ride double, behind the butler, on a docked coachhorse.

Lady T. No-I never did that: I deny the butler and the coach-horse.

Sir P. This, madam, was your situation; and what have I done for you? I have made you a woman of fashion, of fortune, of rank; in short, I have made you my wife.

Lady T. Well, then; and there is but one thing more you can make me, to add to the obligation, and that is – Sir P. My widow, I suppose?

Lady T. Hem! hem!

Sir P. I thank you, madam; but don't flatter yourself; for though your ill conduct may disturb my peace of mind, it shall never break my heart, I promise you: however, I am equally obliged to you for the hint.

Lady T. Then why will you endeavor to make yourself so disagreeable to me, and thwart me in every little elegant expense?

Sir P. Indeed, madam, had you any of these little elegant expenses when you married me?

Lady T. Why, Sir Peter! would you have me be out of the fashion?

Sir P. The fashion, indeed! What had you to do with the fashion before you married me?

Lady T. For my part, I should think you would like to have your wife thought a woman of taste.

Sir P. Ay; there again taste. Zounds! madam, you had no taste when you married me!

Lady T. That's very true indeed, Sir Peter; and after having married you, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow. But now, Sir Peter, since we have finished our daily jangle, I presume I may go to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell's.

a

Sir P. Ay, there's another precious circumstance charming set of acquaintance you have made there. Lady T. Nay, Sir Peter, they are all people of rank and fortune, and remarkably tenacious of reputation.

6

Sir P. Yes, they are tenacious of reputation with a vengeance; for they don't choose any body should have a character but themselves! Such a crew! Ah! many a wretch has rid on a hurdle' who has done less mischief than these utterers of forged tales, coiners of scandal, and clippers of reputation.

Lady T. What! would you. restrain the freedom of speech?

Sir P. Ah! they have made you just as bad as any one of the society.

Lady T. Why, I believe I do bear a part with a tolerable grace.

Sir P. Grace, indeed!

Lady T. But I vow I bear no malice against the people I abuse. When I say an ill-natured thing, 'tis out of pure good-humor; and I take it for granted, they deal exactly in the same manner with me. But, Sir Peter, you know you promised to come to Lady Sneerwell's too.

Sir P. Well, well, I'll call in just to look after my own character.

Lady T. Then indeed you must make haste after me, or you'll be too late. So, good-by to you. [Exit LADY TEAZLE. Sir P. So I have gained much by my intended expostulation: yet, with what a charming air she contra

dicts every thing I say, and how pleasingly she shows her contempt for my authority! Well, though I can't make her love me, there is great satisfaction in quarrelling with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage, as when she is doing every thing in her power to plague me.

1 TAM'BOUR. A frame on which cloth is stretched for convenience of embroidering.

2 SU-PER-IN-TEND'. Have the care or direction of; overlook.

[Exit.

here, a carriage for two persons who sit opposite to each other.

6 TE-NA'CIOUS (-shus). Holding fast; retentive.

7 HÜR'DLE. A sort of sledge on which
criminals were drawn to execution.
Earnest re-
monstrance; act of reasoning ear-
nestly with a person, on some im-
propriety of conduct.

3 POPE JOAN (-jōn). A game at cards.
4 SPIN'ET. A stringed musical instru- 8 Ex-PŎST'Ụ-LĀ-TIỌN.
ment of the harp kind, formerly
much in use.

5 VIS'Ä-vis (viz'ä-vē). Face to face ;]

LIX. THE PASSAGE.

UHLAND.

[Johann Ludwig Uhland was born in Tübingen, April 26, 1787, and died November 13, 1862. Among the recent poets of Germany he holds a very high place. He wrote dramas, ballads, odes, and lyrical pieces. But few of his poems have been translated into English, and these have a dreamy and spiritual beauty, and much tenderness of feeling.]

1. MANY a year is in its grave

Since I crossed this restless wave;
And the evening, fair as ever,
Shines on ruin, rock, and river.

2. Then in this same boat beside
Sat two comrades old and tried;
One with all a father's truth,
One with all the fire of youth.

3. One on earth in silence wrought',
And his grave in silence sought;

But the younger, brighter form
Passed2 in battle and in storm.

4. So, whene'er I turn my eye
Back upon the days gone by,

Saddening thoughts of friends come o'er me
Friends who closed their course before me,

5. But what binds us, friend to friend,
But that soul with soul can blend?
Soul-like were those days of yore—
Let us walk in soul once more.

6. Take, O boatman, thrice thy fee;
Take, I give it willingly;
For, invisible to thee,

Spirits twain have crossed with me.

1 WROUGHT (râwt). Worked.

| 2 PASSED. Departed from life.

LX. BINGEN ON THE RHINE.

MRS. CAROLINE NORTON.

[This poem was written by Mrs. Caroline Norton, an English lady, grand daughter of the celebrated R. B. Sheridan. Bingen is a beautiful town on the left bank of the Rhine, in Germany.]

1..

A SOLDIER of the Legion lay dying in Algiers,

There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears;
But a comrade stood beside him, while his life-blood ebbed away,
And bent, with pitying glances, to hear what he might say :
The dying soldier faltered, and he took that comrade's hand,
And he said, "I never more shall see my own, my native land:
Take a message, and a token, to some distant friends of mine,
For I was born at Bingen,' * at Bingen on the Rhine.

* Pronounced Bing'en.

2.

"Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd around,
To hear my mournful story, in the pleasant vineyard1 ground,
That we fought the battle bravely, and when the day was done,
Full many a corse lay ghastly pale, beneath the setting sun;
And, 'mid the dead and dying, were some grown old in wars,
The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the last of many scars;
And some were young, and suddenly beheld life's morn decline,
And one had come from Bingen, fair Bingen on the Rhine.

[ocr errors]

3.

"Tell my mother, that her other son shall comfort her old age; For I was still a truant bird, that thought his home a cage.

For my father was a soldier, and even as a child

My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and wild; And when he died, and left us to divide his scanty hoard3,

I let them take whate'er they would, - but kept my father's sword; And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light used to shine, On the cottage wall at Bingen,

[ocr errors]

calm Bingen on the Rhine.

4.

"Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head,
When the troops come marching home again, with glad and gallant tread;
But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye,
For her brother was a soldier, too, and not afraid to die:

And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name,

To listen to him kindly, without regret or shame ;

And to hang the old sword in its place (my father's sword and mine), For the honor of old Bingen, dear Bingen on the Rhine.

5.

"There's another not a sister; in the happy days gone by; You'd have known her by the merriment that sparkled in her eye; Too innocent for co'quetry 4, too fond for idle scorning,

[ocr errors]

O, friend! I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest mourning!
Tell her the last night of my life, - (for ere the moon be risen,
My body will be out of pain, my soul be out of prison), —
I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine
On the vine-clad hills of Bingen, — fair Bingen on the Rhine.

6.

"I saw the blue Rhine sweep along, — I heard, or seemed to hear,

The German songs we used to sing, in chorus sweet and clear;

« ZurückWeiter »