The Works of John Hall-Stevenson :: :: University of Virginia Library

'Tis seldom seen, 'tis seldom read,
And 'tis, my friends, as seldom said,
When Man to Mate you tie, or tether,
That old and young agree together.—
Whence comes it?—Each, of different age,
A different passion will assuage:
While Madam follows Pleasure's plan,
Perhaps Ambition guides the Man;
Or Avarice goads him on to Riches,
While vixen Wife would wear the Breeches.
But, in the day, the discord's slight,
To what they must expect at night;
For sad! indeed, the Husband's lot,
Should Spouse's blood but prove too hot.
Yet that can be avoided too,
If what our story tells be true.—

284

A General, ancient in the wars,
Whose front was mark'd with twenty scars,
To make his hours the lighter pass,
In Friendship married a young lass.
Skill'd too he was in arts of peace,
Nor thought to live in perfect ease:
He'd pass his days in dismal plight,
Were dearest Rib not pleas'd at night.
So, soon as settled in their house,
He kindly thus address'd his spouse:—

“Think not, my Love, I was so vain,
(Forgive me, if I speak too plain),
As to suppose, when I did wed,
I was a match for you—in bed—
Ah! no;—I took thee for my wife,
To soothe me in declining life;
Thy converse sweet is all I want;
For other joys thy heart must pant;
My blood now flows in gentle pace,
But thine must run its youthful race;

285

Choose then, in all my handsome corps,
A young gallant, to please thee more.—
Blush not, my Love, and do not fear
To own thy flame;—I am sincere.”

With modest look and downcast eyes,
His spouse express'd unfeign'd surprise;
Then feign'd resentment at his speech,
As if he meant to make a breach,
And cast her off for doxy dearer;
But, when he spoke his meaning clearer,
And swore it was to please them both,
She gave consent (but seeming loth)
An Aid-de-Camp, at country house,
Shou'd e'er attend upon her spouse;
And secret, there, perform his duty—
(Per General's Orders) to her beauty.

It so fell out—the garden wall
Was much too low to cover all.
The Parson, from his window, saw
In neighbour's wife a filthy flaw.

286

What Parson wou'd not take amiss,
To see the pair so loving kiss?
So often dance, so often frisk,
As thinking nought of sin or risk?—
At last his very bowels boil'd,
To see the dame so oft defil'd;
His neighbour wrong'd, too, by a friend,
On whose firm faith he should depend;—
Eke Envy stirr'd him;—so sly John
A grave and saintly face put on;—
Then, taking gown and cleanest band,
He went to neighbour, hat in hand;
And, begging much to be excused,
For the great liberty he used,
He told him how he was abused
By Friend and Spouse, in whom he trusted,
Who nought but for each other lusted.—

The General smil'd, and thus reply'd:
“Is that all, John, you have espy'd?
Why, Man, this Aid-de-Camp I give
Free bed and board, with us to live;

287

And fifty pounds a-year, beside,
To do—the very thing you spy'd.”—

“If so, quoth John, I was to blame,
For hinting at your Honour's shame.
Good friends and neighbours we should be:
Wou'd you but still apply to me,
(Your spouse, I doubt, is not too nice)
I'd serve her, Sir, for half the price.”

University of Virginia Library

ANOTHER TALE, FOR THE ENTERTAINMENT OF MY MILITARY FRIENDS. MDCCLXXXII. 283

THE AID-DE-CAMP EFFECTIVE: OR, THE CONSCIENCIOUS PARSON.

ANOTHER TALE, FOR THE ENTERTAINMENT OF MY MILITARY FRIENDS.
MDCCLXXXII.
283