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 three tours of Doctor Syntax |  |
Song.
—“Haste to Dolly! haste away!
This is thine and Hymen's day!
Bid her thy soft bondage wear; Bid her for Love's rights prepare.
Let the nymphs with many a flower, Deck the sacred nuptial bower;
Thither lead the lovely fair, And let Cupid, too, be there.
This is thine and Hymen's day! Haste to Dolly! haste away!”
Thus pass'd the time; the morrow came,
And Mrs. Syntax was the same:
But when (for 'twas not done before)
She heard the Doctor's story o'er, With all the hopes he had in store;
By joy, by vanity subdu'd, Her warm embraces she renew'd;
While he, delighted, fondly kiss'd Those hands which, form'd into a fist,
Had often warn'd his eyes and nose
To turn from their tremendous blows.
At length, of golden ease possest,
No angry words, no frowns, molest;
No symptoms of domestic strife, Disturb'd their very alter'd life,
For she out-dress'd the Oilman's wife:
And he could now relieve the poor, Who sought his charitable door.
Though to each virtue often blind,
The world to wealth is ever kind:
For lo! a certain tell-tale dame, Yclep'd and known as Mistress Fame,
Had told to all the country round, That Syntax for a thousand pound
Had sold a learned book he wrote; That now he was a man of note,
By Lords protected! and that one Would make him tutor to his son.
So that, whenever he went forth, All paid their homage to his worth;
While it became the fond desire Of ev'ry neighb'ring rural 'Squire
To send his hopeful boys to share The favour of the Doctor's care.
But all these views soon found an end:
A packet came, and from a friend,
From 'Squire Worthy, who resides
On Keswick's bold and woody sides.
The wond'ring Postman made it known,
As he pass'd on, to all the town;
For such a letter ne'er had been Within his little circuit seen:
Nay, by the fiat of the Post, It more than seven shillings cost.
The Doctor star'd—while Ma'am unwilling,
Slowly drew forth each ling'ring shilling.
“Ne'er mind your silver,” Syntax said,
“The Postman, Deary, must be paid;
And now these papers I behold, I see they're worth their weight in gold:
Come, sit you down, and take good heed
To what I'm now about to read.”
This is thine and Hymen's day!
Bid her thy soft bondage wear; Bid her for Love's rights prepare.
Let the nymphs with many a flower, Deck the sacred nuptial bower;
Thither lead the lovely fair, And let Cupid, too, be there.
This is thine and Hymen's day! Haste to Dolly! haste away!”
Thus pass'd the time; the morrow came,
And Mrs. Syntax was the same:
But when (for 'twas not done before)
She heard the Doctor's story o'er, With all the hopes he had in store;
By joy, by vanity subdu'd, Her warm embraces she renew'd;
While he, delighted, fondly kiss'd Those hands which, form'd into a fist,
Had often warn'd his eyes and nose
To turn from their tremendous blows.
At length, of golden ease possest,
No angry words, no frowns, molest;
No symptoms of domestic strife, Disturb'd their very alter'd life,
For she out-dress'd the Oilman's wife:
And he could now relieve the poor, Who sought his charitable door.
Though to each virtue often blind,
The world to wealth is ever kind:
For lo! a certain tell-tale dame, Yclep'd and known as Mistress Fame,
Had told to all the country round, That Syntax for a thousand pound
Had sold a learned book he wrote; That now he was a man of note,
By Lords protected! and that one Would make him tutor to his son.
So that, whenever he went forth, All paid their homage to his worth;
While it became the fond desire Of ev'ry neighb'ring rural 'Squire
To send his hopeful boys to share The favour of the Doctor's care.
But all these views soon found an end:
A packet came, and from a friend,
From 'Squire Worthy, who resides
On Keswick's bold and woody sides.
The wond'ring Postman made it known,
As he pass'd on, to all the town;
120
Nay, by the fiat of the Post, It more than seven shillings cost.
The Doctor star'd—while Ma'am unwilling,
Slowly drew forth each ling'ring shilling.
“Ne'er mind your silver,” Syntax said,
“The Postman, Deary, must be paid;
And now these papers I behold, I see they're worth their weight in gold:
Come, sit you down, and take good heed
To what I'm now about to read.”
“Good Rev'rend Sir,
Our Vicar's dead And I have nam'd you in his stead.I often wish'd his neck he'd break, Or tumble drunk into the Lake;
So, you must know the poaching hound
Fulfill'd one wish—for he is drown'd.
Unfit for preaching or for praying, His merit lay in cudgel-playing:
And he preferr'd to saying prayers, The laying springes for the hares.
“You will perceive I keep my word,
And to this Church you're now preferr'd:
By ev'ry legal act and deed, To Parson Hairbrain you succeed:
The papers which you now receive, A right and full possession give.
You, Sir, may make the living clear
Above three hundred pounds a year;
And if you will but condescend To my son's learning to attend;
If you'll direct his studious hour, I'll add some fifty pounds or more:
Nay, soon we hope that you will cheer
The parish with your presence here.
Miss Worthy and her sister join Their kindest compliments to mine;
And to your prayers I recommend Your faithful and admiring friend,
Jonathan Worthy.”
The dame exclaim'd, “My Grecian boy,
I know not how to tell my joy.
This is the height of my desire:— 'Squire Worthy is a worthy 'Squire.”
“Ha, ha,” said Syntax, “O, the fun!
Why, Dolly, you have made a pun.
But still a pun I do detest, 'Tis such a paltry, humbug jest;
They who've least wit can make them best.
But you may frisk and pun away; I'm sure I cannot teach to-day,
So tell the boys to go and play.
Thank Heaven, that toil and trouble past,
My holidays are come at last!”
At length, the busy school resign'd,
They both rejoic'd to leave behind
A place which little had to give, Than the hard struggle how to live.
For the long journey to prepare, Syntax had bought a one-horse chair,
With harness for the grizzle-mare.
Ralph would not from his master part,
But trudg'd beside the trav'ling cart
That bore the Doctor's books and chattles,
With Madam's clothes and fiddle-faddles:
The cook upon the baggage rode, And added to the weighty load;
For she, kind maid, was fully bent To go wherever Ralpho went.
The Doctor walk'd about to tell
The day when he should say—farewell:
And they who had disdain'd before To pass the threshold of his door,
When Syntax gave his farewell treat,
Sought that same door to drink and eat.
The neighbours now, who never yet
Knew his great worth, his loss regret;
While Madam, on whom no good word
Had been, throughout the town, preferr'd,
Was now a most delightful creature,
Of temper mild,—of winning feature.
The Ringers, who for many a year, Refus'd his natal day to cheer,
Now made the bells, in woeful zeal,
Chime forth the dumb, lamenting peal.
—The time soon came, when, quite light-hearted,
The Doctor and his spouse departed:
And as they journey'd on their way, They did not fail to pass a day
At Oxford, with his early friend, The kind and learned Dicky Bend.
Nor did he think it a delay, The Christian Vicar to repay,
And 'neath his roof a night to stay;
To add, for former kindness shown, His Dolly's greeting to his own.
At York they also form'd the party,
For a whole week, of 'Squire Hearty.
A few days more, and, lo! the Lake
Did, on th'enraptur'd vision break:
When, rising 'mid the tufted trees, Syntax his sacred structure sees,
Whose tow'r appear'd in ancient pride,
With the warm Vic'rage by its side.
“At length, dear wife,” he said, “we're come
To our appointed, tranquil home.”
The courteous people lined the way,
And their rude, untaught homage pay:
The foremost of the assembled crowd,
The fat Exciseman, humbly bow'd:
“Welcome,” he said, “to Sommerden.”
The Clerk stood by, and cried “Amen!”
Grizzle dash'd boldly through the gate,
Where the kind 'Squire and ladies wait,
With kind embrace, with heart and hand,
To cheer them into Cumberland.
The bells rang loud, the boys huzza'd; The bonfire was in order laid;
The villagers their zeal display, And ale and crackers close the day.
I know not how to tell my joy.
This is the height of my desire:— 'Squire Worthy is a worthy 'Squire.”
“Ha, ha,” said Syntax, “O, the fun!
Why, Dolly, you have made a pun.
But still a pun I do detest, 'Tis such a paltry, humbug jest;
They who've least wit can make them best.
But you may frisk and pun away; I'm sure I cannot teach to-day,
So tell the boys to go and play.
Thank Heaven, that toil and trouble past,
My holidays are come at last!”
At length, the busy school resign'd,
They both rejoic'd to leave behind
A place which little had to give, Than the hard struggle how to live.
For the long journey to prepare, Syntax had bought a one-horse chair,
With harness for the grizzle-mare.
Ralph would not from his master part,
But trudg'd beside the trav'ling cart
That bore the Doctor's books and chattles,
With Madam's clothes and fiddle-faddles:
The cook upon the baggage rode, And added to the weighty load;
For she, kind maid, was fully bent To go wherever Ralpho went.
121
The day when he should say—farewell:
And they who had disdain'd before To pass the threshold of his door,
When Syntax gave his farewell treat,
Sought that same door to drink and eat.
The neighbours now, who never yet
Knew his great worth, his loss regret;
While Madam, on whom no good word
Had been, throughout the town, preferr'd,
Was now a most delightful creature,
Of temper mild,—of winning feature.
The Ringers, who for many a year, Refus'd his natal day to cheer,
Now made the bells, in woeful zeal,
Chime forth the dumb, lamenting peal.
—The time soon came, when, quite light-hearted,
The Doctor and his spouse departed:
And as they journey'd on their way, They did not fail to pass a day
At Oxford, with his early friend, The kind and learned Dicky Bend.
Nor did he think it a delay, The Christian Vicar to repay,
And 'neath his roof a night to stay;
To add, for former kindness shown, His Dolly's greeting to his own.
At York they also form'd the party,
For a whole week, of 'Squire Hearty.
A few days more, and, lo! the Lake
Did, on th'enraptur'd vision break:
When, rising 'mid the tufted trees, Syntax his sacred structure sees,
Whose tow'r appear'd in ancient pride,
With the warm Vic'rage by its side.
“At length, dear wife,” he said, “we're come
To our appointed, tranquil home.”
The courteous people lined the way,
And their rude, untaught homage pay:
The foremost of the assembled crowd,
The fat Exciseman, humbly bow'd:
“Welcome,” he said, “to Sommerden.”
The Clerk stood by, and cried “Amen!”
Grizzle dash'd boldly through the gate,
Where the kind 'Squire and ladies wait,
With kind embrace, with heart and hand,
To cheer them into Cumberland.
The bells rang loud, the boys huzza'd; The bonfire was in order laid;
The villagers their zeal display, And ale and crackers close the day.
Syntax, whom all desired to please, Enjoy'd his hours of learned ease;
Nor did he fail to preach and pray, To brighter worlds to point the way;
While his dear spouse was never seen
To shew ill-nature or the spleen;
And faithful Grizzle now no more Or drew a chaise, or rider bore.
Nor did he fail to preach and pray, To brighter worlds to point the way;
While his dear spouse was never seen
To shew ill-nature or the spleen;
And faithful Grizzle now no more Or drew a chaise, or rider bore.
Thus the good Parson, Horse, and Wife Led a most comfortable life.
| The three tours of Doctor Syntax | |