So he's gone. So, much the better. I don't love these fops; they make more husbands jealous, than wives happy.
My dear Meliffa, forget all the injuries I have done you, and you shall find in me a husband afhamed of his paft conduct, and a moft tender and faithful lover.
D'ye hear, Phyllis, that's pofitive. Are you a girlTM of your word? Your hand
You have not the honour of the reconciliationbut no matter. The affection of this married couple encourages me. There take it.
My project then has fucceeded. Ah! fir George, I have now learnt, that virtue can never fail to make itself refpected, but the defire of pleafing is the only method to attain that pleasure of being always lov'da
The End of the NEW SCHOOL FOR WOMEN.
Imitated from LA FONTAINE
E all the plagues with which mankind is curst,
The rage of jealoufy is fure the worlt, cf For do but picture to your mind
The self-tormenting anxious wretch,
Whofe thoughts are always on the ftretch,
In fearch of what he dreads to find.
He never dreams, but horns begin to peep;
Yet hold I fear the Mufe mistakes;
To dream, fuppofes fleep,
And jealoufy for ever wakes.
Or, if he fhould juft catch a doze,
Some cuckold ghost a racket makes,
And scares away repofe.
Then tell me, foolsif there be any fuch,
What is this frightful cuckoldom you dread?
Unknown 'tis nothing, and when known, not much :
Form'd by fufpicion, and by fancy fed.
Pray do you feel ought on your front,
That makes your hat uneasy on't?
Or is the pleasure of your life,
The plague you'll fay I mean your wife,
Lefs beautiful, or not fo kind?
Why, no! to please fhe's more inclin'd.
Then 'tis in fact no real pain,
But a chimæra of the brain.
Aye, but your honour takes alarm;
Why honour, honour that is true
Yet what has honour here to do
With an imaginary harm?
Better, methinks, to banish doubt,
And never seek to find it out;
Nor act like him, who needs would fup
Out of the gold enchanted cup.
Make, if you can, advantage of his folly.
The tale in ARIOSTO is of note,
And if 'twill footh your melancholy,
I'll ftrive to tell it as LA FONTAINE wrote.
A man there was, no matter where his dwelling
Who for some reasons, we'll fay not worth telling,
Refolv'd no woman e'er should be his wife.
Not that he meant to lead a fingle life,.
But keep a miss, or madam, what you please.
Whether he acted right or wrong,
It does not to our tale belong;
Let thofe decide it who have try'd both ways.
Our man was of fuch fort of caft,
That HYMEN found no favour in his eyes;
CUPID alone must form the pleafing ties
To make his paffion laft.
In fhort, he found one to his mind,
Young, lovely, beautiful and kind ;
Who, ere the fun one yearly course had ran,
Brought forth a charming girl, and dy'd.
The father tore his hair, and cry'd,
Not like a modifh widow'd man,
Whofe wife is taken to her laft repofe ;
Such grief is often meerly change of cloaths:
He mourn'd like one who felt the smart
Of a dejected broken heart,
Till time, not reafon, cur'd his woes.
Mean while our little Miffy grows;
Her tucker now begins to fall and rife,
And Doll, neglected, in a corner lies.
An unknown fomething flutters in her breast;
Sufpicions fill'd the father's mind;
He fear'd that Cat would after kind ;
Wherefore to fet his heart at reft,
He thought, in prudence, it was best
That in a convent fhe fhould be confin'd.
There in each virtuous notion bred,
Her ftudy was her mind t'improve;
None of thofe idle books fhe read,
With which young girls fo ftuff their head,
Nor hardly knew the name of love.
If any nun her beauty prais'd,
Up to the heavens her hands she rais'd,
Then blefs'd herself, and thus exclaim'd;
Fye, fifter! are you not asham'd?
These earthly beauties foon will fade,
Tranfient and fleeting as a fhade.
Or else why from the world retire,
And morn and eve both fast and pray
What are these features you admire ?
Mere dirt and duft, for worms a prey.
No canting Puritan had more to say.
But now her education quite complete,
Her father took her to his country feat.
CALISTA (that's our fair-one's name)
No fooner from the convent came,
Than-farewell all her holy books,
Her prim ftarcht grief, and downcaft looks;
No heav'nly thing her thoughts employs,
She fees the world with worldly eyes.
And now fame's trumpet founds aloud
Her virtue, beauty, and her fortune too;
Without this laft, the others feldom do,
Whilft wealth alone will draw a crowd;
For that's the point in view.
From far and near the fuitors ran,
Each hop'd to be the happy man.
But the diftinguish'd from the crew
Young ALTAMONT, of graceful air,
Of humour pliant, conduct nice,
Her father much approv'd her choice,
And join'd the loving pair.
VOL. I.
T t
All things at once were easy made,
The jointure fix'd, the portion paid;
That was indeed their fmallest care:
Their only schemes were, how to prove
Their mutual conftancy and love.
Six months of paradife were gone,
When hell of hell came fudden on;
For jealousy torments his brains;
He thinks a fpark fupplies his place;
Who would have loft both time and pains,
Had he not forc'd his own difgrace.
Why then, in fuch a cafe,
What must a husband do, or fay?a
Nothing; if he is wife,
But feem to fhut his eyes,
And let the lady take her way.
Dpend upon't, do all you can,
She will for certain have her man,
If fhe's refolv'd to go aftray;
And, if to virtue fhe's inclin'd,
Your doubts may make her change her mind.
You raise the devil you would quell;
For be it always understood,
Wherever fuch fufpicions dwell,
Cuckoldom's in the neighbourhood...
To ALTAMONT this was quite new.
I pity him with all my heart;
'Twas by advice he play'd the part,
Which gave him so much cause to rue.
If you'll but hear my story out,
I'll tell you how it came about.
A witch there was, of the firft rate, (Enchantress fair, I fhould have faid) Who took it in her head
To have with ALTAMONT a téte a tete.
NEREA nam'd; fhe knew, we're told,
Much more than CIRCE did of old,
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