Mercury. Men are not so patient of whipping as boys, and I seldom have known a rough satirist mend them. But I will allow that you have done some good in that way, though not half so much as Addison did in his. And now you are here, if Pluto and Proserpine would take my advice, they should dispose of you both in this manner :- -When any hero comes hither from earth, who wants to be humbled, (as most heroes do) they should set Swift upon him to bring him down.. The same good office he may frequently do to a saint swoln too much with the wind of spiritual pride, or to a philosopher, vain of his wisdom and virtue. He will soon shew the first that he cannot be holy without being humble; and the last, that, with all his boasted morality, he is but a better kind of Yahoo. I would also have him apply, his anticosmetic wash to the painted face of female vanity, and his rod, which draws blood at every stroke, to the hard back of indolent folly or petulent wit. But you, Mr. Addison, should be employed to comfort and raise the spirits of those whose good and noble souls are dejected with a sense of some infirmities in their nature. To them you should hold your fair and charitable mirroar, which would bring to their sight all their hidden perfection, cast over the rest a softening shade, and put them in a temper fit for Elysium. -Adieu: I must now return to my business above. SECTION IV. PARENTAL LOVE. Enter Job Thornberry (in a night gown) and Bur. Bur. Don't take on so-don't you, now pray, lis ten to reason. Job. I won't. Bur. Pray, do. Job. I won't. Reason bid me love my child, and help my friend :—what's the consequence? my friend has run one way, and broke up my trade; my daughter has run another, and broke my No she shall never have it to say she broke my heart. If I hang myself for grief, she sha'nt know she made me. + Bur. Well, but, master Job. And reason told me to take you into my shop when the fat churchwardens starved you at the workhouse-hang their want of feeling for it ;—and you. were thump'd about, a poor unoffending, raggedrump. ed boy, as you were———— -I wonder hav'n't run away from me, too.. you Bur. That's the first real unkind word you ever said to me. I've sprinkled your shop two-and-twenty years, and never miss'd a morning. fob. The bailiffs are below, clearing the goods ;you won't have the trouble any longer. Bur. Trouble! look ye, old Job Thornberryfob. Well! What, you are going to be saucy to me, now I am ruined?. Bur. Don't say one cutting thing after another. You have been as noted, all round our town, for being a kind man, as being a blunt one. Job. Blunt or sharp, I've been honest. Let them look at my ledger-they'll find it right. I began upon a little I made that little great, by industry; L never cringed to a customer, to get him into my books, that I might hamper him with an overcharged bill, for long credit; I earned my fair profits; I paid my way; I break by the treachery of a friend, and my first div idend will be seventeen shillings in the pound. L wish every.tradesman may clap his hand on his heart, and say as much, when he asks a creditor to sign his certificate. Bur. "Twas I kept your ledger all the time.. Bur. From the time you took me out of the work1 house.. Job. Psha! rot the workhouse! Bur: You never mention'd. it to me, yourself, till to-day. fob. I said it in a hurry. Bur. And I've always remembered it at leisure. I don't want to brag, but I hope I've been found faithful. It's rather hard to tell poor John Bur, the workhouse boy, after clothing, feeding, and making him your man of trust, for two-and-twenty years, that you wonder he don't run away from you, now you are in trouble. Fob. Affected) John, I beg your pardon. (Stretching out his hand.) Bur. (Taking his hand.) Don't say a word more about it. Fob. I Bur. Pray, now, master, don't say any more! come, be a man! get on your things; and face the bailiffs,, that are rummaging the goods. Job. I can't, John: I can't. My heart's heavier than all the iron, and brass, in my shop. Bur. Nay, consider what confusion !-pluck up courage; do, now! Job. Well, I'll try. Bur. Aye, that's right here's your clothes. (Taking them from the back of a chair.) They'll play the duce with all the pots and pans, if you aren't by. -Why, I warrant you'll do ! bless you, what should. ail you? Job. Ail me? When you have a daughter, John Bur, and she runs away from you, you'll know what ails me.. Bur. Come here's your coat and waiscoat. (Going to help him on with his clothes.) This is the waistcoat young mistress work'd, with her own hands, for your birth day, five years ago. Come, get into. it as quick as you can.. Fob. (throwing it on the floor violently.) I'd as lieve get into my coffin. She'll have me there soon.. Psha! rot it! I'm going to snivel. Bur, go, and get me another. Bur. Are you sure you won't put it on ? Feb. No, I won't. (Bur pauses.) No, I tell you.. [Exit Bur. How proud. I was of that waistcoat, five years ago! I little thought what would happen, now, when I sat in it, at the top of my table, with all my neighbours, to celebrate the day;-there was Collop, on one side of me, and his wife on the other; and my daughter, Mary, sat at the further end-smiling so sweetly like an artful, good-for-nothing-I shou'dn't like to throw away a waistcoat neither: I may as well put it on. -Yes--it would be poor spite not to put it on. (Putting his arms into it.)-She's breaking my heart: but, I'll wear it, I'll wear it. (Buttoning it, and crying involuntarily.) It's my child's She's undutiful--ungrateful--barbarous -but she's my child--and she'll never work me another." Duke. SECTION V. CONJUGAL LOVE. Duke, Juliana, and Balthazar. Put up your weapon, Sir "Tis the worst argument a man can use; In which your whole authority is sunk- Balth. Lawful!-his lawful wife! I shall go mad. Did you not basely steal her, Duke. What I have done I'll answer to the law. Balth. Are you not A most notorious self-confess'd impostor? Duke. True! I am somewhat dwindled from the stateIn which you lately knew me ; nor alone Should my exceeding change provoke your wonder, "Tis indeed most true.. Jul. That modesty, in deed, in word, and thought, Whom she was ne'er intended to command. Balth. Amazement! Why, this nietamorphosis Exceeds his own! What spells, what cunning witchcraft has he employ'd? ful. None: he has simply taught me to look into myself: his powerful reth'ric Hath with strong influence impress'd my heart, And made me see at length the thing I have been, And what I am, Sir. Balth. Are you then content to live with him? Balth. Can you forget your crying wrongs? They sometimes serve us to make merry with. Balth. How like a villain he abus'd your father? ful. You will forgive him that for my sake! Balth. Never! Duke. Why, then, 'tis plain, you seek your own revenge, And not your daughter's happiness! Balth. No matter: I charge you, on your duty as my daughter, follow me! Duke. On a wife's obedience, I charge you, stir not! A thousand recollections rise within me, Bath. Thy husband; wellful. Tis fruitless now to think upon means He us'd-I am irrevocably his : And when he pluck'd me from my parent tree And, by adoption, I am bound as strictly As once to follow yours." |