The English Dance of Death from the designs of Thomas Rowlandson, with metrical illustrations, by the author of "Doctor Syntax" [i.e. William Combe] |
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 | The English Dance of Death |  |
“Don't be a fool,” old Docket said,
“Nor falsify your father's trade.
Does not a stately mansion wait,
To ope for you its willing gate,
Where wealth invites, and at whose door,
You'll see your daily coach-and-four?
While all the pleasure gold can buy,
A husband's fondness will supply.
Will you from Fashion turn aside,
And all the charms of titled pride,
Those wants and that distress to prove,
Which wait on poverty and love?
For should the vap'ring Major live,
Should he the chance of war survive,
Half-pay is all he has to give.
Besides, to ev'ry eye 'tis clear
Sir Peter cannot live a year.
Your settlements I shall prepare
With a paternal Lawyer's care.
I shall employ my cunning skill
To shape the am'rous Dotard's will;
And then I'll make a swinging bill:
Which, from pure love to you he'll pay
Without deduction or delay.
Be to his fondling follies blind;
Be to his humours very kind;
And take the wealth he'll leave behind.
You then will be, by Fortune's bounty,
The richest widow in the county.—”
Thus Docket's arguments assail'd
His daughter's mind, and they prevail'd.
“Nor falsify your father's trade.
Does not a stately mansion wait,
To ope for you its willing gate,
Where wealth invites, and at whose door,
You'll see your daily coach-and-four?
While all the pleasure gold can buy,
A husband's fondness will supply.
Will you from Fashion turn aside,
And all the charms of titled pride,
Those wants and that distress to prove,
Which wait on poverty and love?
112
Should he the chance of war survive,
Half-pay is all he has to give.
Besides, to ev'ry eye 'tis clear
Sir Peter cannot live a year.
Your settlements I shall prepare
With a paternal Lawyer's care.
I shall employ my cunning skill
To shape the am'rous Dotard's will;
And then I'll make a swinging bill:
Which, from pure love to you he'll pay
Without deduction or delay.
Be to his fondling follies blind;
Be to his humours very kind;
And take the wealth he'll leave behind.
You then will be, by Fortune's bounty,
The richest widow in the county.—”
Thus Docket's arguments assail'd
His daughter's mind, and they prevail'd.
| The English Dance of Death | |