IX. His father's name was Jose-Don, of course; Or, being mounted, e'er got down again, X. His mother was a learned lady, famed In For every branch of every science known- XI. Her memory was a mine: she knew by heart So that if any actor miss'd his part, She could have served him for the prompter's copy; For her Feinagle's were an useless art, And he himself obliged to shut up shop-he Could never make a memory so fine as That which adorn'd the brain of Donna Inez. XII. Her favourite science was the mathematical, XIII. She knew the Latin-that is, "the Lord's prayer," At least her conversation was obscure; XIV. She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue, But I must leave the proofs to those who 've seen 'em; But this I heard her say, and can't be wrong, And all may think which way their judgments lean 'em, "'T is strange-the Hebrew noun which means 'I am,' The English always use to govern d—n.” In short, she was a walking calculation, Miss Edgeworth's novels stepping from their covers, Or Mrs. Trimmer's books on education, Or "Cœlebs' Wife" set out in quest of lovers, Morality's prim personification, In which not envy's self a flaw discovers; To others' share let "female errors fall," For she had not even one-the worst of all, XVII. Oh! she was perfect past all parallel— Of any modern female saint's comparison; So far above the cunning powers of hell, Her guardian angel had giv'n up his garrison; Even her minutest motions went as well As those of the best time-piece made by Harrison : In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her, Save thine "incomparable oil," Macassar! › * The following is the 15th stanza, suppressed in the London editions; "Some women use their tongues; she look'd a lecture, Each eye a sermon, and her brow a homily. An all in all sufficient self-director, Like the lamented late Sir Samuel Romilly, XVIII. Perfect she was, but as perfection is Insipid in this naughty world of ours, Where our first parents never learn'd to kiss, Till they were exiled from their earlier bowers, Where all was peace, and innocence, and bliss (I wonder how they got through the twelve hours), Don Jose, like a lineal son of Eve, Went plucking various fruit without her leave. XIX. He was a mortal of the careless kind, With no great love for learning, or the learn'd, To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn'd, XX. Now Donna Inez had, with all her merit, A great opinion of her own good qualities; Neglect, indeed, requires a saint to bear it, And such, indeed, she was in her moralities; But then she had a devil of a spirit, And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realities, And let few opportunies escape Of getting her liege lord into a scrape. .XXI. This was an easy matter with a man Oft in the wrong, and never on his guard; And even the wisest, do the best they can, Have moments, hours, and days, so unprepared, That you might "brain them with their lady's fan," And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard, And fans turn into falchions in fair hands, XXII. 'T is pity learned virgins ever wed With persons of no sort of education, I don't chuse to say much upon this head, But-oh! ye lords of ladies intellectual, XXIII. Don Jose and his lady quarrell'd-why, But if there's any thing in which I shine, 'T is in arranging all my friends' affairs, Not having, of my own, domestic cares. XXIV. And so I interfered, and with the best Intentions, but their treatment was not kind; But that's no matter, and the worst 's behind, XXV. A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing, And mischief-making monkey from his birth; Instead of quarrelling, had they been but both in XXVI. Don Jose and the Donna Inez led For sometime an unhappy sort of life, Wishing each other, not divorced, but dead; They lived respectably as man and wife, Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred, And gave no outward signs of inward strife, Until at length the smother'd fire broke out, And put the business past all kind of doubt. XXVII. For Inez call'd some druggists and physicians, She next decided he was only bad; Yet when they ask'd her for her depositions, XXVIII. She kept a journal, where his faults were noted, XXIX. And then this best and meekest woman bore Who saw their spouses kill'd, and nobly chose 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 damning us, 'T is also pleasant to be deem'd magnanimous, Revenge in person 's certainly no virtue, XXXI. And if our quarrels should rip up old stories, 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 ('T were hard to tell upon a like occasion To whom it may be best to have recourse- |