Wise niggard of his strength. Yet all thy care, O Hobbinol! availed not to prevent
One hapless blow; o'er his strong guard the plant Lapped pliant, and its knotty point impressed His nervous chine; he wreathed him to and fro Convolved; yet, thus distressed, intrepid bore His hilts aloft, and guarded well his head. So when the unwary clown, with hasty step, Crushes the folded snake, her wounded parts Grovelling she trails along, but her high crest Erect she bears; in all its speckled pride She swells inflamed, and with her forky tongue Threatens destruction. With like eager haste, The impatient Hobbinol, whom excessive pain Stung to his heart, a speedy vengeance vowed; Nor wanted long the means: a feint he made With well-dissembled guile, his battered shins Marked with his eyes, and menaced with his plant. Gorgonius, whose long-suffering legs scarce bore His cumbrous bulk, to his supporters frail Indulgent, soon the friendly hilts opposed; Betrayed, deceived, on his unguarded crest The stroke delusive fell; a dismal groan Burst from his hollow chest; his trembling hands Forsook the hilts; across the spacious ring Backward he reeled; the crowd affrighted fly To escape the falling ruin.
TWANGDILLO'S MISHAP. RUIN OF HIS FIDDLE. But, alas!
'Twas thy hard fate, Twangdillo ! to receive His ponderous trunk on thee, on helpless thee, Headlong and heavy the foul monster fell.
Beneath a mountain's weight, the unhappy bard Lay prostrate, nor was more renowned thy song, O seer of Thrace! nor more severe thy fate. His vocal shell, the solace and support Of wretched age, gave one melodious scream, And in a thousand fragments strewed the plain. The nymphs, sure friends to his harmonious mirth, Fly to his aid, his hairy breast expose
To each refreshing gale, and with soft hands His temples chafe; at their persuasive touch His fleeting soul returns; upon his rump He sat disconsolate; but when, alas! He viewed the shattered fragments, down again He sunk expiring: by their friendly care Once more revived, he thrice essayed to speak, And thrice the rising sobs his voice subdued, - Till thus, at last, his wretched plight he mourned: TWANGDILLO'S LAMENT FOR HIS FIDDLE. 'Sweet instrument of mirth! sole comfort left To my declining years! whose sprightly notes Restored my vigor and renewed my bloom; Soft healing balm to every wounded heart! Despairing, dying swains, from the cold ground Upraised by thee, at thy melodious call, With ravished ears received the flowing joy. Gay pleasantry, and care-beguiling joke,
Thy sure attendants were, and at thy voice All nature smiled. But, O, this hand no more Shall touch thy wanton strings; no more with lays Alternate, from oblivion dark redeem
The mighty dead, and vindicate their fame. Vain are thy toils, O Hobbinol! and all Thy triumphs vain. Who shall record, brave man! Thy bold exploits? who shall thy grandeur tell, Supreme of Kiftsgate? See thy faithful bard, Despoiled, undone. O cover me, ye hills! Whose vocal cliffs were taught my joyous song. Or thou, fair nymph, Avona, on whose banks The frolic crowd, led by my numerous strains, Their orgies kept, and frisked it o'er the green, Jocund and gay, while thy remurmuring streams Danced by, well pleased. O! let thy friendly waves O'erwhelm a wretch, and hide this head accursed !' So plains the restless Philomel, her nest And callow young, the tender growing hope Of future harmony, and frail return For all her cares, -to barbarous churls a prey; Darkling she sings, the woods repeat her moan.
Good eating expedient for heroes. Homer praised for keeping a table. Hobbinol triumphant. Ganderetta's bill of fare. Panegyric upon ale. Gossiping over a bottle. Compliment to Mr. John Philips. Ganderetta's perplexity discovered by Hobbinol; his consolatory speech; compares himself to Guy, Earl of Warwick. Ganderetta encouraged; strips for the race; her amiable figure. Fusca, the Gypsy; her dirty figure. Tabitha; her great reputation for speed. Tabitha carries weight. The smock race. Tabitha's fall. Fusca's short triumph; her humiliation. Ganderetta's matchless speed. Hobbinol lays the prize at her feet. Their mutual triumph. The vicissitude of human affairs experienced by Hobbinol. Mopsa, formerly his servant, with her two children, appears to him. Mopsa's speech; assaults Ganderetta; her flight. Hobbinol's prodigious fright; is taken into cus tody by constables, and dragged to Sir Rhadamanth's.
GOOD EATING EXPEDIENT FOR HEROES. — AGAMEMNON.
Though some of old, and some of modern date, Penurious, their victorious heroes fed With barren praise alone; yet thou, my muse ! Benevolent, with more indulgent eyes Behold the immortal Hobbinol; reward With due regalement his triumphant toils. Let Quixote's hardy courage and renown With Sancho's prudent care be meetly joined. O thou, of bards supreme, Mæonides !1 What well-fed heroes grace thy hallowed page! Laden with glorious spoils, and gay with blood Of slaughtered hosts, the victor chief returns. Whole Troy before him fled, and men and gods Opposed in vain for the brave man, whose arm Repelled his country's wrongs, ev'n he, the great Atrides, king of kings, ev'n he prepares With his own royal hand the sumptuous feast. Full to the brim, the brazen cauldrons smoke, Through all the busy camp the rising blaze
Attests their joy; heroes and kings forego Their state and pride, and at his elbow wait Obsequious. On a polished charger placed, The bulky chine, with plenteous fat inlaid Of golden hue, magnificently shines, The choicest morsels severed to the gods. The hero next, well paid for all his wounds, The rich repast divides with Jove; from out The sparkling bowl he draws the generous wine, Unmixed, unmeasured; with unstinted joy His heart o'erflows.
THE MAY-DAY FEAST. RURAL CHEER.
In like triumphant port Sat the victorious Hobbinol; the crowd Transported view, and bless their glorious chief: All Kiftsgate sounds his praise with joint acclaim. Him every voice, him every knee confess, In merit, as in right, their king. Upon The flowery turf, earth's painted lap, are spread The rural dainties; such as Nature boon Presents with lavish hand, or such as owe To Ganderetta's care their grateful taste Delicious. For she long since prepared To celebrate this day, and with good cheer To grace his triumphs. Crystal gooseberries Are piled on heaps; in vain the parent tree Defends her luscious fruit with pointed spears. The ruby-tinctured corinth clustering hangs, And emulates the grape; green codlings float In dulcet creams: nor wants the last year's store; The hardy nut, in solid mail secure, Impregnable to winter's frosts, repays Its hoarder's care. The custard's jellied flood, Impatient youth, with greedy joy, devours. Cheesecakes and pies, in various forms upraised, In well-built pyramids aspiring stand. [suade Black hams and tongues, that speechless can per- To ply the brisk carouse, and cheer the soul With jovial draughts. Nor does the jolly god Deny his precious gifts; here jocund swains, In uncouth mirth delighted, sporting quaff Their native beverage; in the brimming glass The liquid amber smiles.
AN OUTBURST OF PATRIOTISM UPON THE FRENCH. THE SPANISH ARMADA. BRITAIN SALVABLE BY BEER. Britons, no more Dread your invading foes; let the false Gaul, Of rule insatiate, potent to deceive,
And great by subtile wiles, from the adverse shore Pour forth his numerous hosts; Iberia! join Thy towering fleets; once more aloft display Thy consecrated banners; fill thy sails With prayers and vows, most formidably strong In holy trumpery; let old Ocean groan Beneath the proud Armada, vainly deemed Invincible; yet fruitless all their toils, Vain every rash effort, while our fat glebe, Of barley grain productive, still supplies The flowing treasure, and with sums immense Supports the throne; while this rich cordial warms The farmer's courage,-arms his stubborn soul
With native honor, and resistless rage.
Thus vaunt the crowd, each freeborn heart o'erflows With Britain's glory and his country's love.
THE REVELRY. — MEAD; GIRLS, WOMEN, SCANDAL, WANTONNESS. CIDER; PHILIPS.
Here, in a merry knot combined, the nymphs Pour out mellifluous streams, the balmy spoils Of the laborious bee. The modest maid But coyly sips, and blushing drinks, abashed: Each lover with observant eye beholds Her graceful shame, and at her glowing cheeks Rekindles all his fires; but matrons sage, Better experienced, and instructed well In midnight mysteries, and feast-rites old, Grasp the capacious bowl; nor cease to draw The spumy nectar. Healths of gay import Fly merrily about; now scandal sly, Insinuating, gilds the specious tale With treacherous praise, and with a double face Ambiguous wantonness demurely sneers: Till circling brimmers every veil withdraw, And dauntless impudence appears unmasked. Others apart, in the cool shade retired, Silurian cider quaff, by that great bard Ennobled, who first taught my grovelling muse To mount aerial. O could I but raise My feeble voice to his exalted strains, Or to the height of this great argument, The generous liquid in each line should bound Spirituous, nor oppressive cork subdue Its foaming rage; but, to the lofty theme Unequal, muse, decline the pleasing task. Thus they luxurious, on the grassy turf, Revelled at large; while naught around was heard But mirth confused, and undistinguished joy, And laughter far resounding.
HOPES AND FEARS OF AMBITION.
Found here no place, to Ganderetta's breast Retiring; there with hopes and fears perplexed Her fluctuating mind. Hence the soft sigh Escapes unheeded, spite of all her art; The trembling blushes on her lovely cheeks Alternate ebb and flow; from the full glass She flies abstemious, shuns the untasted feast. But careful Hobbinol, whose amorous eye From hers ne'er wandered, haunting still the place Where his dear treasure lay, discovered soon Her secret woe, and bore a lover's part. Compassion melts his soul; her glowing cheeks He kissed, enamored, and her panting heart He pressed to his; then with these soothing words, Tenderly smiling, her faint hopes revived.
'Courage, my fair! the splendid prize is thine. Indulgent fortune will not damp our joys, Nor blast the glories of this happy day. Hear me, ye swains! ye men of Kiftsgate! hear : Though great the honors by your hands conferred, These royal ornaments, though great the force Of this puissant arm, as all must own, Who saw this day the bold Gorgonius fall;
Yet were I more renowned for feats of arms, And knightly prowess, than that mighty Guy, Do famed in antique song, Warwick's great eail, Who slew the giant Colbrand, in fierce fight Maintained a summer's day, and freed this realm From Danish vassalage; - his ponderous sword, And massy spear, attest the glorious deed; Nor less his hospitable soul is seen
In that capacious cauldron, whose large freight Might feast a province; - yet were I like him, The nation's pride, like him I could forego All earthly grandeur, wander through the world A jocund pilgrim in the lonesome den, And rocky cave, with these my royal hands Scoop the cold streams with herbs and roots content, Mean sustenance; could I by this but gain For the dear fair, the prize her heart desires. Believe me, charming maid! I'd be a worm, The meanest insect, and the lowest thing The world despises, to enhance thy fame.' So cheered he his fair queen, and she was cheered.
GANDERETTA PREPARES FOR THE RACE. HER BEAUTY.
Now with a noble confidence inspired Her looks assure success, now stripped of all Her cumbrous vestments, beauty's vain disguise, She shines unclouded in her native charms. Her plaited hair behind her in a brede Hung careless; with becoming grace each blush Varied her cheeks, than the gay rising dawn More lovely, when the new-born light salutes The joyful earth, impurpling half the skies.
Her heaving breast, through the thin covering viewed,
Fixed each beholder's eye; her taper [limbs], And lineaments exact, would mock the skill Of Phidias; nature alone can form Such due proportion. To compare with her, Oread, or Dryad, or of Delia's train, Fair virgin huntress for the chase arrayed With painted quiver and unerring bow,— Were but to lessen her superior mien, And goddess-like deport. The master's hand, Rare artisan! with proper shades improves His lively coloring; so here, to grace Her brighter charms, next her upon the plain,
FUSCA AND TABITHA, HER COMPETITORS, described.
Fusca the brown appears, with greedy eye Views the rich prize, her tawny front erects Audacious, and with her legs unclean, Booted with grim, and with her freckled skin, Offends the crowd. She of the gypsy train Had wandered long, and the sun's scorching rays Imbrowned her visage grim; artful to view The spreading palm, and with vile cant deceive The lovesick maid, who barters all her store For airy visions and fallacious hope. Gorgonius, if the current fame say true,
1 Oreads were mountain-nymphs; Dryads, wood-nymphs; Delia was a name for Diana, born in the isle of Delos.
Her comrade once, they many a merry prank Together played, and many a mile had strolled, For him fit mate. Next Tabitha the tall Strode o'er the plain, with huge gigantic pace, And overlooked the crowd; known far and near For matchless speed, she many a prize had won ; Pride of that neighboring mart,1 for mustard famed, Sharp-biting grain, where amicably join The sister floods, and with their liquid arms Greeting, embrace.? *
THE MASTER OF THE RING, MILONIDES; HIS PROCESSION, MUSIC, AND ARRANGEMENTS.
Room for the master of the ring; ye swains! Divide your crowded ranks. See! there on high The glittering prize, on the tall standard borne, Waving in air; before him march in files The rural minstrelsy, the rattling drum Of solemn sound, and th' animating horn, Each huntsman's joy; the tabor and the pipe, Companion dear at feasts, whose cheerful notes Give life and motion to the unwieldy clown. Even age revives, and the pale, [puling] maid Feels ruddy health rekindling on her cheeks, And with new vigor trips it o'er the plain; Counting each careful step, he paces o'er Th' allotted ground, and fixes at the goal His standard; there himself majestic swells.
Stretched in a line, the panting rivals wait Th' expected signal, with impatient eyes Measure the space between, and in conceit Already grasp the warm contested prize. Now all at once rush forward to the goal! And step by step, and side by side, they ply Their busy feet, and leave the crowd behind. Quick heaves each breast, and quick they shoot along
Through the divided air, and bound it o'er the plain. To this, to that, capricious fortune deals Short hopes, short fears, and momentary joy. The breathless throng, with open throats, pursue, And broken accents shout imperfect praise. Such noise confused is heard, such wild uproar, When on the main the swelling surges rise, Dash on the rocks, and, hurrying through the flood, Drive on each other's backs, and crowd the strand. Before the rest tall Tabitha was seen Stretching amain, and whirling o'er the field; Swift as the shooting star that gilds the night With rapid, transient blaze, she runs, she flies ; Sudden she stops, nor longer can endure The painful course, but, drooping, sinks away, And like that falling meteor, there she lies, A jelly cold on earth. Fusca with joy Beheld her wretched plight; o'er the pale corse Insulting bounds; hope gave her wings, and now, Exerting all her speed, step after step,
1 Tewksbury, in the vale of Evesham, where the Avon runs into the Severn.
2 The author's vulgar fling at the dissenters, and their school at Tewksbury, some thirty-one lines, is omitted. J.
At Ganderetta's elbow urged her way, Her shoulder pressing, and with poisonous breath Tainting her ivory neck. Long while had held The sharp contest, had not propitious [fate], With partial hands, to such transcendant charms Dispensed its favors. For as o'er the green The careless gypsy, with incautious speed, Pushed forward, and her rival fair had reached, With equal pace, and only not o'erpassed— Haply she treads where late the merry train, In wasteful luxury and wanton joy, Lavish had spilt the cide.'s frothy flood, And mead with custard mixed. Surprised, appalled, And in the treacherous puddle struggling long, She slipped, she fell; upon her back, supine, Extended lay; the laughing multitude, With noisy scorn, approved her just disgrace.
THE TRIUMPH OF GANDERETTA.
As the sleek leveret skims before the pack, So flies the nymph, and so the crowd pursue. Borne on the wings of wind the dear one flies, Swift as the various goddess, nor less bright In beauty's prime; when through the yielding air She darts along, and with refracted rays Paints the gay clouds; celestial messenger, Charged with the high behests of heaven's great queen.2
Her at the goal with open arms received Fond Hobbinol; with active leap he seized The costly prize, and laid it at her feet, Then pausing stood, dumb with excess of joy. Expressive silence! for each tender glance Betrayed the raptures that his tongue concealed. Less mute the crowd, in echoing shouts, applaud Her speed, her beauty, his obsequious love.
THE KING AND QUEEN OF THE MAY; THEIR THRONES.
Upon a little eminence, whose top O'erlooked the plain, a steep, but short ascent, Placed in a chair of state, with garlands crowned, And loaded with the fragrance of the spring, Fair Ganderetta shone; like mother Eve In her gay sylvan lodge, delicious bower! Where Nature's wanton hand, above the reach Of rule, or art, had lavished all her store To deck the flowery roof; and at her side Imperial Hobbinol, with front sublime, Great as a Roman consul, just returned From cities sacked, and provinces laid waste, In his paternal wicker sat enthroned.
PUBLIC APPLAUSE. ITS HOLLOWNESS.
With eager eyes the crowd about them press, Ambitious to behold the happy pair. Each voice, each instrument proclaims their joy With loudest vehemence such noise is heard, Such a tumultuous din, when, at the call Of Britain's sovereign, the rustic bands O'erspread the fields; the subtle candidates Dissembled homage pay, and court the fools Whom they despise; each proud majestic clown
1 Iris, the rainbow, messenger of the gods. 2 Juno.
Looks big and shouts amain, mad with the taste Of power supreme, frail empire of a day! That with the setting sun extinct is lost.
FORTUNE IS CAPRICIOUS. REVERSES.-HOBBINOL'S SIN
Nor is thy grandeur, mighty Hobbinol ! Of longer date. Short is, alas! the reign Of mortal pride; we play our parts a while, And strut upon the stage; the scene is changed, And offers us a dungeon for a throne. Wretched vicissitude! for, after all His tinsel dreams of empire and renown, Fortune, capricious dame, withdraws at once The goodly prospect, to his eyes presents Her, whom his conscious soul abhorred and feared!
APPARITION OF THE INJURED MOPSA AND HER BABES.
Lo! pushing through the crowd, a meagre form With hasty step, and visage incomposed! Wildly she stared: rage sparkled in her eyes, And poverty sat shrinking on her cheeks. Yet through the cloud that hung upon her brows A faded lustre broke, that dimly shone, Shorn of its beams, the ruins of a face, Impaired by time, and shattered by misfortunes. A froward babe hung at her flabby breast, And tugged for life; but wept, with hideous moan, His frustrate hopes, and unavailing pains. Another o'er her bending shoulder peeped, Swaddled around with rags of various hue. He kens his comrade twin with envious eye, As of his share defrauded; then amain He also screams, and to his brother's cries In doleful concert joins his loud laments.
THE STORY OF SIN. SIMILE OF THE PIRATE SHIP. — HOBBINOL'S DISMAY.
O, dire effects of lawless love! O sting Of pleasure past! As when a full-freight ship, Blest in a rich return of pearls or gold, Of fragrant spice, or silks of costly dye, Makes to the wished-for port with swelling sails, And all her gaudy trim displayed; o'erjoyed The master smiles; but if from some small creek A lurking corsair the rich quarry spies, With all her sails bears down upon her prey, And peals of thunder from her hollow sides Check his triumphant course, aghast he stands Stiffened with fear, unable to resist, And impotent to fly; all his fond hopes Are dashed at once! naught now, alas! remains But the sad choice of slavery or death! So fared it with the hapless Hobbinol, In the full blaze of his triumphant joy Surprised by her, whose dreadful face alone Could shake his steadfast soul. In vain he turns And shifts his place averse; she haunts him still, And glares upon him with her haggard eyes, That fiercely spoke her wrongs.
MOPSA'S INVECTIVE. - STORY OF HER SEDUction. Words swelled with sighs At length burst forth, and thus she storms enraged:
'Know'st thou not me? false man! not to know me Argues thyself unknowing of thyself, Puffed up with pride, and bloated with success. Is injured Mopsa then so soon forgot? Thou knew'st me once, ah! woe is me! thou didst. But if laborious days and sleepless nights; If hunger, cold, contempt, and penury, Inseparable guests, have thus disguised Thy once-beloved, thy handmaid dear; if thine And fortune's frowns have blasted all my charms; If here no roses grow, no lilies bloom, Nor rear their heads on this neglected face; If through the world I range a slighted shade, The ghost of what I was, forlorn, unknown; At least know these. See! this sweet simpering Dear image of thyself; see! how it sprunts [babe, With joy at thy approach! see, how it gilds Its soft, smooth face, with false paternal smiles! Native deceit, from thee, base man, derived! Or view this other elf, in every art Of smiling fraud, in every treacherous leer, The very Hobbinol! ah! cruel man! Wicked, ingrate! and couldst thou then so soon, So soon forget that ** fatal [hour] when me ** Thy artful wiles betrayed? was there a star,
By which thou didst not swear? was there a curse, A plague on earth, thou didst not then invoke On that devoted head, if e'er thy heart Proved haggard to my love, if e'er thy hand Declined the nuptial bond? but, O! too well, Too well, alas! my throbbing breast perceived The black impending storm; the conscious moon Veiled in a sable cloud her modest face,
GANDERETTA ESCAPES AND FIDES HERSELF. HOBBINOL IS ARRESTED AND CONVEYED TO JUDGMENT.
Borne on the wings of fear, away she bounds, And in the neighboring village pants forlorn. So the coursed hare to the close covert flies, Still trembling, though secure. Poor Hobbinol More grievous ills attend: around him press A multitude, with huge, herculean clubs, Terrific band! the royal mandate these Insulting show: arrested and amazed,
Half dead he stands; no friends dare interpose, But bow dejected to the imperial scroll: Such is the force of law. While conscious shame Sits heavy on his brow, they view the wretch To Rhadamanth's august tribunal dragged. Good Rhadamanth! to every wanton clown Severe indulgent only to himself.
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