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The three tours of Doctor Syntax

In search of 1. The picturesque, 2. Of consolation, 3. Of a wife. The text complete. [By William Combe] With four illustrations

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The Doctor heard and made pretence To listen to his eloquence;
But though with certain science fraught,
It could not charm his serious thought;
Nor did it seem to chase away The gloomy humour of the day.
“Why still so grave my worthy friend,”
The 'Squire exclaim'd, “where will this end?
I prithee, why make all this pother;
You've lost one wife—then get another;
And sure, in all this country round, Another may be quickly found.
From different motives people grieve,
For wives that die and wives that live.
—That scare-crow Death is oft a sad one,
Takes the good wife and leaves the bad one,
As sure as that bright sun doth shine, I wish that he had taken mine.
Not that I suffer such disaster As to let madam play the master,
Nor yet, to let the lady boast That o'er her lord she rules the roast.
I learn'd not, where I went to school, In such a way to play the fool.
'Tis true from harshness I refrain, But then I always hold the rein:
For he who ventures on a wife, To be the comfort of his life,
Should never this advice refuse:—
Take her down in her wedding shoes.
—Syntax his fancy to beguile Here sunk his laughter in a smile.
For it was known to great and small
How things went on at Bumpkin-Hall:
Nay, 'twas a well-known standing joke,
Among the neighb'ring country folk,
That when the lady's in the way The 'Squire would ne'er say yea or nay
But as her ruling spirit told him, Or with a certain look control'd him:
Though now his tongue ne'er seem'd to rest,
And thus his invitation press'd.—
“Doctor come here, next hunting-season,
And faith, my friend, I'll shew you reason;
You shall mount on my Yorkshire grey,
And gallop all your cares away.”
“I doubt not,” Syntax smiling said, “Your recipe would be obey'd;
It would afford a speedy cure For every evil I endure;
But for my kind physician's sake, I do not wish my neck to break.”
They talk'd, when soon the bell's shrill chime
Declar'd it to be dinner time,
Nor was it an unwelcome call That bade their footsteps seek the hall;
For though the Doctor's whims prevail'd, His appetite had never fail'd.
By madam he was kindly greeted,
As, “How d'ye do?” and “pray be seated.
It doth a perfect age appear Since we enjoy'd your presence here;
I feel it always as a treasure, And wish I oft'ner felt the pleasure.”

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“Bumpkin, I pray you move the dish,
And help the Doctor to some fish.”
“Indeed I hope, 'tis in your view To pass with us a day or two.
Nay I could wish it might be more, And lengthen'd out unto a score.”
“Bumpkin, you think not as we dine,
That some folks love a glass of wine.”
“I have not seen you for an hour,
Since you have made your charming Tour,
And I shall ask you to display Its hist'ry in your rapid way.”
“Husband, I'll bet my life upon it,
Our kind guest's plate has nothing on it;
Make haste and give it a supply Of that well-looking pigeon-pye.”
“'Tis a fine match Miss Worthy made: A charming girl, I always said;
And does those qualities possess That claim the promis'd happiness.
Some may think one thing, some another;
But is she handsome as her mother?
Her mamma's auburn locks, I own,
Are better than her daughter's brown,
Although the latter you may see, Dame nature has bestow'd on me.”
“'Squire Bumpkin, were it not my care To see how all about me fare,
Our Rev'rend friend would have good luck,
To get a wing of that fine duck.”
“Since, Doctor, you were here before, I've added to my Floral store,
And some fine specimens have got Which are not ev'ry Florist's lot.
They're in the happiest state to view, And will be much admir'd by you.”
“As some folk do not seem to think
That when we eat, we want to drink,
I ask you, Doctor, if you'll join Your Hostess in a glass of Wine?
Your better taste, Sir, will prevail, Nor share in vulgar cups of Ale.”
“My new Piano has a tone Which your judicious ear will own,
At least to me it so appears, Such as one very seldom hears.
I too of late have practis'd much, And am improv'd in time and touch;
Thus with your fiddle's well-known power,
We shall delight an evening hour.”