Quæ Genus.
"Miss-Fortune is the name she bears,
Her rent-roll's form'd of sighs and tears:
She doth not live or here or there,
I fear, Sir, she lives ev'ry where.
I'm sure that I know not the ground
Where her sad influence is not found; |
But if a circle should appear
Beyond her arbitrary sphere,
I feel and hope, Sir, it is here. | } |
—This worn-out coat, Sir, which you see,
Is the kind Lady's livery:
I once was fat, but now am thin,
Made up of nought but bone and skin;
I once was large but now am small,
From feeding in her servants'-hall,
And the hump I shall ever bear
Is an example of her care.
As for the blessed Dame's beginning,
I've heard that it began in sinning,
And I have learn'd that she will end
When this vile world has learn'd to mend;
But if we guess when that may be,
We may guess to eternity." |
"Miss-Fortune!! Heav'ns! O thus she's nam'd,"
The Knight, with uplift eyes exclaim'd.
"O the dull head, not to have seen
What the Finale must have been!"
Then clasping hands and chuckling first
Into a bellowing laugh he burst,
Though not to his broad face confin'd,
But on each side, before, behind,
It seem'd as if his whimsies bound him,
In a joyous circle round him:
His belly trembles, his sides ache,
And the great-chair scarce stands the shake.
'Twas a hoarse, deep bass, note of mirth,
To which his fancy thus gave birth;
And Johnny fail'd not to come after
An octave higher in his laughter,
While his delight appear'd to speak
In somewhat of a treble squeak.—
Thus, for some minutes they enjoy'd
The Duo which their nerves employ'd.
Sir Jeff'ry shook his head awhile,
Then spoke with a complacent smile.
"Though in a diff'ring point of view,
I know her just as well as you;
And hang the hag she plagues me too. | } |
Need I, good fellow, need I tell ye,
She deck'd me out with this great belly;
'Tis she, by way of friendly treat,
Has given this pair of gouty feet;
Nay sometimes when her whim commands
Miss-Fortune robs me of my hands:
'Tis she with her intention vile
That makes me overflow with bile;
And tho' my table's spread with plenty
Of ev'ry nice and costly dainty,
She sometimes envies me a bite,
And takes away my appetite.
She does not meddle with my wealth,
But then she undermines my health;
She never in my strong box looks,
Nor pries into my banker's books;
My ample fortune I contrive
To guard with care and make it thrive,
I check her power to destroy it,
But then she says, 'you sha'n't enjoy it;
I will take care you shall endure
The ills and pains gold cannot cure.'
Or leagu'd with wrinkled age at least,
She strives to interrupt the feast.
—But with her malice I contend,
Where she's a foe, I'm oft a friend,
And, with the weapons I can wield,
I sometimes drive her from the field.
Nay when she does the victim clasp,
I snatch it from her cruel grasp.
And thus you see, or more or less,
I make her prove my happiness." |