The English Dance of Death from the designs of Thomas Rowlandson, with metrical illustrations, by the author of "Doctor Syntax" [i.e. William Combe] |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | The English Dance of Death |  |
John Lockfast had, for years, kept sentry,
The Guardian of some Great Man's Entry,
Which, not to give offence, we call
By the more stylish name of Hall:—
Prepar'd, at ev'ry sounding knock,
The harrass'd Portal to unlock;
And there or yes—or no—to say,
As was the order of the day,
—The tenant of an Easy Chair,
His Life was free from bustling care:
There, when by watchful nights distrest,
He could recruit himself with rest.
There he would sit and hear the News,
With which the liv'ried train amuse
Their fellow varlets, and relate
As they in due attendance wait;
The lucky fortune, or disasters
Which happen to their Lords and Masters,
And tittle-tattle of the heigh-days
Of all the high-bred, tonish Ladies.
Nay, in a language of their own,
Talk o'er the scandal of the Town.
Thus John, who had, for many a year,
Been used the daily Tales to hear,
The state domestic, could declare
Of ev'ry house in ev'ry square.
Nay, such was his experience thought
In ev'ry thing which Service taught,
That all the shoulder-knots in town
Did his superior knowledge own,
Nor fail'd the Porter sage to greet,
As Oracle of Harley Street.
—He knew the policy that waits
On vigilance at Great Mens' gates;
And how to gloss the daily lie
With a soft, smiling gravity.
Of all his bows would give the best
To him who was a welcome guest;
But could reply, in surly tone,
To those he wanted to be gone:
In short, he could adapt his face,
As well as voice, to ev'ry case;
And had the art, the first I know,
When to return a Yes—or No.
The Guardian of some Great Man's Entry,
230
By the more stylish name of Hall:—
Prepar'd, at ev'ry sounding knock,
The harrass'd Portal to unlock;
And there or yes—or no—to say,
As was the order of the day,
—The tenant of an Easy Chair,
His Life was free from bustling care:
There, when by watchful nights distrest,
He could recruit himself with rest.
There he would sit and hear the News,
With which the liv'ried train amuse
Their fellow varlets, and relate
As they in due attendance wait;
The lucky fortune, or disasters
Which happen to their Lords and Masters,
And tittle-tattle of the heigh-days
Of all the high-bred, tonish Ladies.
Nay, in a language of their own,
Talk o'er the scandal of the Town.
Thus John, who had, for many a year,
Been used the daily Tales to hear,
231
Of ev'ry house in ev'ry square.
Nay, such was his experience thought
In ev'ry thing which Service taught,
That all the shoulder-knots in town
Did his superior knowledge own,
Nor fail'd the Porter sage to greet,
As Oracle of Harley Street.
—He knew the policy that waits
On vigilance at Great Mens' gates;
And how to gloss the daily lie
With a soft, smiling gravity.
Of all his bows would give the best
To him who was a welcome guest;
But could reply, in surly tone,
To those he wanted to be gone:
In short, he could adapt his face,
As well as voice, to ev'ry case;
And had the art, the first I know,
When to return a Yes—or No.
Nor was this all.—He could unfold
The Language which the Knocker told;
From Fashion's proud, imperious rap,
To the poor Suppliant's humble tap:
Whether 'twas Form, or Friendship came,
Or disappointed Tradesman's claim:
The sons of Frolic, and of Fun,
Or the stroke flippant of a Dun.
—Besides, John, though he did not know it,
Was no mean Casuist,—and I'll show it.
The Language which the Knocker told;
232
To the poor Suppliant's humble tap:
Whether 'twas Form, or Friendship came,
Or disappointed Tradesman's claim:
The sons of Frolic, and of Fun,
Or the stroke flippant of a Dun.
—Besides, John, though he did not know it,
Was no mean Casuist,—and I'll show it.
| The English Dance of Death | |