Poems By Mr. Polwhele. In three volumes |
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CANTO THE EIGHTH.
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 | Poems |  |
188
CANTO THE EIGHTH.
ARGUMENT.
1. Disappearance of Emma and Herbert—Report that the former was pregnant, and that they had absconded together.— 2. Allan, canvassing the Scot and Lot Borough of Molfra—unsuccessful —Sir H. Hawtrap and Squintal elected Members for the Place.—3. Allan musing on the Cliffs near Andarton —and observing Sir H. Hawtrap and Juliet seemingly on the most familiar footing.
While now distrustful glances Allan cast
On those soft days in dissipation past,
Ponder'd o'er Herbert's spirit, Swellum's pomp,
And Laura, the light child of ease and romp,
And Juliet darken'd by a cloud of spleen,
And Emma's eye dejected tho' serene;
And yet, reflecting on each fleeted day,
Labour'd to steal a reconciling ray
From all his forc'd devoirs, to Laura paid
To please a dying parent's honour'd shade;
Sudden, ‘the curate, tho' a saint,’ he heard,
‘Had e'en with pregnant Emma disappear'd;’
And, catching now the slander as it flew
New edited, and much enlarg'd from Prue,
Was told, ‘that Herbert, better skill'd to lure
‘A girl into the toils than serve a cure,
‘Had play'd the pander to his pupil's lusts,
‘Tho' urg'd, perhaps, himself by carnal gusts;’
And found, at length, no two reports agree
To fix, whose right the byblow yet might be.
On those soft days in dissipation past,
Ponder'd o'er Herbert's spirit, Swellum's pomp,
And Laura, the light child of ease and romp,
189
And Emma's eye dejected tho' serene;
And yet, reflecting on each fleeted day,
Labour'd to steal a reconciling ray
From all his forc'd devoirs, to Laura paid
To please a dying parent's honour'd shade;
Sudden, ‘the curate, tho' a saint,’ he heard,
‘Had e'en with pregnant Emma disappear'd;’
And, catching now the slander as it flew
New edited, and much enlarg'd from Prue,
Was told, ‘that Herbert, better skill'd to lure
‘A girl into the toils than serve a cure,
‘Had play'd the pander to his pupil's lusts,
‘Tho' urg'd, perhaps, himself by carnal gusts;’
And found, at length, no two reports agree
To fix, whose right the byblow yet might be.
But in the neighbour town a rumour rose
To draw attention from his private woes—
A rumour strange, ‘that almost every vote
‘Pent up in populous Molfra, scot and lot,
‘Was brib'd, Halvenna's lineage to supplant’—
A race that, from its charter's ancient grant
Thro' ev'ry age hoar Molfra could attach
As by some magic, to its mud and thatch.
To draw attention from his private woes—
A rumour strange, ‘that almost every vote
‘Pent up in populous Molfra, scot and lot,
190
A race that, from its charter's ancient grant
Thro' ev'ry age hoar Molfra could attach
As by some magic, to its mud and thatch.
Meantime, a message from Halvenna came
That to the borough pointed Allan's aim;
Entreating, from Andarton's house, support,
And offering him a seat in civil sort.
And, lo, Halvenna's lord, to guardian Ned,
To feel the borough-pulse, young Allan led,
His views unfolded with becoming grace,
And caught confusion in the conscious face.
“My interest (cries recover'd Ned) is yours—
“That interest which, behold! at once restores
“Andarton to its pristine rank and rights,
“And closely with a kindred house unites.
“Nor need you canvass—Zounds! I've strength enough
“From ev'ry vote to ward pretenders off;
“Assur'd, whate'er their riches, power, or rank
“Against them all to carry it, point-blank.”
That to the borough pointed Allan's aim;
Entreating, from Andarton's house, support,
And offering him a seat in civil sort.
And, lo, Halvenna's lord, to guardian Ned,
To feel the borough-pulse, young Allan led,
His views unfolded with becoming grace,
And caught confusion in the conscious face.
“My interest (cries recover'd Ned) is yours—
“That interest which, behold! at once restores
“Andarton to its pristine rank and rights,
“And closely with a kindred house unites.
“Nor need you canvass—Zounds! I've strength enough
“From ev'ry vote to ward pretenders off;
“Assur'd, whate'er their riches, power, or rank
“Against them all to carry it, point-blank.”
191
By Ned attended, to the townclerk next
As Allan bow'd, he mark'd an air perplext
That struggled between interest, spleen, and guile;
Tho' to Halvenna's lord was lent the smile
Which servile adulation, midst the rays
Of courtly favour, to a patron pays.
As Allan bow'd, he mark'd an air perplext
That struggled between interest, spleen, and guile;
Tho' to Halvenna's lord was lent the smile
Which servile adulation, midst the rays
Of courtly favour, to a patron pays.
But waiting on the mayor, a supple clerk
They met, it seems, a most obsequious smirk,
Such flattering looks as scarcely credit ask,
Professions smooth and soft, that deem'd no task
Halvenna's favours to requite too hard,
And all the current gibberish of regard.
Yet, call'd to honours from a cobler's last,
What priest could ponder long on favours past?
They met, it seems, a most obsequious smirk,
Such flattering looks as scarcely credit ask,
Professions smooth and soft, that deem'd no task
Halvenna's favours to requite too hard,
And all the current gibberish of regard.
Yet, call'd to honours from a cobler's last,
What priest could ponder long on favours past?
The pair, now hailing whiffs from Cheshire cheese,
Their homage made, with more than wonted ease,
To an old townsman, who indeed deserv'd
Obeisance, from plain truth who never swerv'd,
Nor, tho' he spent his days amid the strife
Of venal votes, was brib'd thro' all his life—
Poor simple Wagstaff; who from punch still drew
O'er all his honest face the poppy's hue;
Who, tho' immerst in liquor every night,
Yet rose, recruited with the morning light;
Who, stout and vigorous at threescore, flung out
At every spring and fall, a healthful gout;
Still at his door, as erst, in flannel stood,
And leaning on his cane in merry mood,
There puff'd his pipe, nor flinch'd tho' sore attack'd,
But many a joke with wonted humour crack'd;
Laid hold of every gentleman he knew,
And squeez'd each hand to homebred friendship true;
Unskill'd to close the tale he quick began,
O'er the long history of the borough ran,
And, at his finger's ends each pedigree,
Trac'd from its sturdy root the branching tree;
And drew, as he devour'd the daily news,
The glance of envy to his gouty shoes.
Their homage made, with more than wonted ease,
To an old townsman, who indeed deserv'd
Obeisance, from plain truth who never swerv'd,
Nor, tho' he spent his days amid the strife
Of venal votes, was brib'd thro' all his life—
192
O'er all his honest face the poppy's hue;
Who, tho' immerst in liquor every night,
Yet rose, recruited with the morning light;
Who, stout and vigorous at threescore, flung out
At every spring and fall, a healthful gout;
Still at his door, as erst, in flannel stood,
And leaning on his cane in merry mood,
There puff'd his pipe, nor flinch'd tho' sore attack'd,
But many a joke with wonted humour crack'd;
Laid hold of every gentleman he knew,
And squeez'd each hand to homebred friendship true;
Unskill'd to close the tale he quick began,
O'er the long history of the borough ran,
And, at his finger's ends each pedigree,
Trac'd from its sturdy root the branching tree;
And drew, as he devour'd the daily news,
The glance of envy to his gouty shoes.
“What!” (cry'd old Wagstaff, and his fingers snapp'd,
And jump'd about, his legs in flannel wrapt,)
“Zounds! zounderkins! I'm gladder than a bird!”
(When now the boy's pretensions Wagstaff heard)
“Why, half thy family for Molfra sat—
“Sir Roger, and Sir Oliver the Fat,
“And many a worthy of the Andarton-line—
“But, damme, do beware of dark design.
“Each day, my lad, I like the townclerk less:
“Damme, I see, in every look, finesse.
“The mayor too, Rehoboam's priest, by G*d!
“A greater rogue his vather never shod.”
And jump'd about, his legs in flannel wrapt,)
193
(When now the boy's pretensions Wagstaff heard)
“Why, half thy family for Molfra sat—
“Sir Roger, and Sir Oliver the Fat,
“And many a worthy of the Andarton-line—
“But, damme, do beware of dark design.
“Each day, my lad, I like the townclerk less:
“Damme, I see, in every look, finesse.
“The mayor too, Rehoboam's priest, by G*d!
“A greater rogue his vather never shod.”
Now for the election-poll the hall unclos'd,
And the high business of the day propos'd,
Paus'd the sly mayor; look'd round with face of brass,
And cried in tones that mock'd the braying ass:
“Tho' e'er my private feelings own'd, I trust,
“The kindness of the Halvennas, from the dust
“Who rais'd me; yet my sense of public good
“Against the Halvennas turns my mantling blood.
“In truth, their favours tho' we highly rate,
“Their favours but a crowd of slaves create.”
He spoke: and Squintal, with a stammering voice,
Sir Hawtrap introduc'd to Molfra's choice;
When Ned arose, that minion of intrigue,
And blushless nam'd old Squintal his colleague:
Strait grocers, butchers, tinmen, one and all,
With acclamations shook the vaulted hall.
Poor Wagstaff, in a litter thither borne,
With ruddier cheeks than autumn's mildest morn,
Soon of his fond delusion unbeguil'd,
Now swore, now wept, now blubber'd like a child.
And the high business of the day propos'd,
Paus'd the sly mayor; look'd round with face of brass,
And cried in tones that mock'd the braying ass:
“Tho' e'er my private feelings own'd, I trust,
“The kindness of the Halvennas, from the dust
“Who rais'd me; yet my sense of public good
“Against the Halvennas turns my mantling blood.
“In truth, their favours tho' we highly rate,
“Their favours but a crowd of slaves create.”
194
Sir Hawtrap introduc'd to Molfra's choice;
When Ned arose, that minion of intrigue,
And blushless nam'd old Squintal his colleague:
Strait grocers, butchers, tinmen, one and all,
With acclamations shook the vaulted hall.
Poor Wagstaff, in a litter thither borne,
With ruddier cheeks than autumn's mildest morn,
Soon of his fond delusion unbeguil'd,
Now swore, now wept, now blubber'd like a child.
Whilst pensive from the rocks his eyes he lifts,
In melancholy mood along the clifts
Where once his wild heroic rage he fed,
Young Allan rov'd, by other feelings led,
Thro' all the puzzled maze of treachery ran,
And, pausing, trembled at the guilt of man.
Calm o'er Andarton shone the closing day,
And the beach-pebbles glanc'd a sparkling ray;
And gentle zephyrs, midst the glow of eve,
Dipp'd their smooth pinions in the purpled wave,
Where the green woods, in vivid tints array'd
O'er the clear waters wreath'd their silent shade;
When, sudden, starting at the mellow sound
Of many a mingled note, he look'd around,
And saw, distended with her aweful charge,
Swell into pomp the corporation-barge,
And, her gay colours as she stream'd in air,
Announce the mighty presence of the—mayor!
Thus Argo, freighted with the golden sleece,
Wav'd her bright ensigns o'er the sons of Greece.
In melancholy mood along the clifts
Where once his wild heroic rage he fed,
Young Allan rov'd, by other feelings led,
Thro' all the puzzled maze of treachery ran,
And, pausing, trembled at the guilt of man.
Calm o'er Andarton shone the closing day,
And the beach-pebbles glanc'd a sparkling ray;
And gentle zephyrs, midst the glow of eve,
Dipp'd their smooth pinions in the purpled wave,
195
O'er the clear waters wreath'd their silent shade;
When, sudden, starting at the mellow sound
Of many a mingled note, he look'd around,
And saw, distended with her aweful charge,
Swell into pomp the corporation-barge,
And, her gay colours as she stream'd in air,
Announce the mighty presence of the—mayor!
Thus Argo, freighted with the golden sleece,
Wav'd her bright ensigns o'er the sons of Greece.
Slow mov'd the barge—to notes so loud, yet clear,
That all the stream-tin imps peep'd up to hear,
Whilst on each head green oysters op'd their jaws,
And to the crazy fiddlers gap'd applause.
Slow mov'd the barge; while some, opprest with sleep,
Nodded, the Palinuri of the ship;
While some, triumphant, of their freedom talk'd,
Or starting from the board in anger stalk'd,
Where flying glasses bitter strife bespoke,
And ere the joke was crack'd, the bottles broke;
Tho', as each challenge in oblivion sunk,
Soft were the tears that sooth'd the crying-drunk.
That all the stream-tin imps peep'd up to hear,
Whilst on each head green oysters op'd their jaws,
And to the crazy fiddlers gap'd applause.
Slow mov'd the barge; while some, opprest with sleep,
Nodded, the Palinuri of the ship;
While some, triumphant, of their freedom talk'd,
Or starting from the board in anger stalk'd,
Where flying glasses bitter strife bespoke,
And ere the joke was crack'd, the bottles broke;
196
Soft were the tears that sooth'd the crying-drunk.
Fixt like a statue on the clift's pale brow,
As Allan view'd the gaudy barge below,
He saw a groupe of females pace the deck,
And mark'd Sir Hawtrap's arm round Juliet's neck;
And, as the pair in dalliance seem'd to sport,
Half credited, at length, a strange report,
‘That Hawtrap, by the borough-projects led,
‘The townclerk's daughter had engag'd to wed;
‘And honest Squintal, on these terms alone,
‘For the good Nabob had the borough won.’
“Alas!” (cried Allan) “such are Hawtrap's sighs—
“Such his fond languishing at Laura's eyes!”
Nor had he ceas'd, when soft on air portray'd,
In transient vision smil'd a heavenly maid;
And, ere she vanish'd into ether cold,
Beam'd azure light, and wav'd her locks of gold!
As Allan view'd the gaudy barge below,
He saw a groupe of females pace the deck,
And mark'd Sir Hawtrap's arm round Juliet's neck;
And, as the pair in dalliance seem'd to sport,
Half credited, at length, a strange report,
‘That Hawtrap, by the borough-projects led,
‘The townclerk's daughter had engag'd to wed;
‘And honest Squintal, on these terms alone,
‘For the good Nabob had the borough won.’
“Alas!” (cried Allan) “such are Hawtrap's sighs—
“Such his fond languishing at Laura's eyes!”
Nor had he ceas'd, when soft on air portray'd,
In transient vision smil'd a heavenly maid;
And, ere she vanish'd into ether cold,
Beam'd azure light, and wav'd her locks of gold!
END OF THE EIGHTH CANTO.
| Poems | |