Obrazy na stronie

career in the loftiest apartment of a muffin maker in Milk-alley. Little did I think—“good easy man’— Shakspeare—Hem —of the riches and literary digmities which now

Enter Dick Dowlas. My pupil Tick. [Speaking while entering.] Well, where is the man that wants—ohl you are he I suppose— Pang. I am the man, young gentleman “Homo sum.”—Terence—Hem 1 Sir, the person who now presumes to address you is Peter Pangloss; to whose name, in the college of Aberdeen, is subjoined LL.D. signifying Doctor of Laws; to which has been recently added the distinction of A. double S.; the Roman initials for a Fellow of the Society of Arts. Dick. Sir, I am your most obedient, Richard Dowlas; to whose name, in his tailor's bill, is subjoined D. R., signifying Debtor; to which are added L.S.D.; the Roman initials for pounds, shillings, and pence. Pang. Ha! this youth was doubtless designed by destiny to move in the circles of fashion; for he's dipt in debt, and makes a merit of telling it. [Aside. Dick. But what are your commands with me, doctor : Pang. I have the honour, young gentleman, of being deputed an ambassador to you from your father. Dick. Then you have the honour to be ambassador of as good-natured an old fellow as ever sold a ha’porth of cheese in a chandler's shop. Pang. Pardon me, if, on the subject of your father's cheese, I advise you to be as mute as a mouse in one —for the future. Twere better to keep that “altà mente repostum.”—Virgil—Hem Dick. Why, what's the matter Any misfortune? —Broke, I fear? Pang. No, not broke; but his name, as 'tis customary in these cases, has appeared in the Gazette. Dick. Not broke, but gazetted l Why, zounds and the devil l— | Pang. Check your passions—learn philosophy. When the wife of the great Socrates threw a-hum ! —threw a teapot at his erudite head, he was as cool as a cucumber. When Plato— | Dick. Damn Plato . What of my father ? | Pang. Don’t damn Plato. The bees swarmed round his mellifluous mouth as soon as he was swaddled. “Cum in cunis apes in labellis consedissent.”—Cicero —Hem 1 Dick. I wish you had a swarm round yours, with all my heart. Come to the point. Pang. In due time. But calm your choler. ‘Ira furor brevis est.”—Horace—Hem 1 Read this. | [Gives a letter. Dick. [Snatches the letter, breaks it open, and reads.] “Dear Dick—This comes to inform you I am in a perfect state of health, hoping you are the same'— ay, that's the old beginning—“It was my lot, last week, to be made’—ay, a bankrupt, I suppose?—‘to be made a'—what?—‘to be made a P, E, A, R.;’—a pear ! —to be made a pear ! What the devil does he mean by that? Pang. A peer —a peer of the realm. His lordship's orthography is a little loose, but several of his equals | countenance the custom. Lord Loggerhead always spells physician with an F. Dick. A peer!—what, my father?—I’m electrified Old Daniel Dowlas made a peer 1 But let me see; [Reads on.]—“A pear of the realm. Lawyer Ferret got me my tittle’—titt—oh, title — and an estate of fifteen thousand per ann.—by making me out next of kin to old Lord Duberly, because he died without —without hair'—'Tis an odd reason, by the by, to be next of kin to a nobleman because he died bald. | Pang. His lordship means heir-heir to his estate. We shall meliorate his style speedily. ‘Reform it

[ocr errors]

Dick. “I send my carrot.”—Carrot I Pang. He! he hel Chariot his lordship means. || Dick. “With Dr Pangloss in it.” Pang. That's me. Dick. “Respect him, for he's an LL.D., and, moreover, an A. double S.’ [They bow. Pang. His lordship kindly condescended to insert that at my request. Dick. “And I have made him your tutorer, to mend your cakelology. Pang. Cacology; from Kakos, “malus,” and Logos, * verbum.”—Wide Lexicon—Heml Dick. “Come with the doctor to my house in Hanover Square.’—Hanover Square – I remain your affec- || tionate father, to command.—DUBERLY.” Pang. That's his lordship's title. Dick. It is : | Pang. It is. Dick. Say sir to a lord's son. manners than a bear! Pang. Bear !—under favour, young gentleman, I am the bear-leader; being appointed your tutor. Dick. And what can you teach me? Pang. Prudence. Don't forget yourself in sudden success. “Tecum habita.”—Persius—Hem! Dick. Prudence to a nobleman's son with fifteen thousand a-year!

You have no more

[ocr errors][merged small]
[ocr errors]

—dance reels—go to the opera—cut off your tail— pull on your pantaloons—and there's a buck of the first fashion in town for you. D'ye think I don't know what's going? Pang. Mercy on me! tory pupill Dick. Not at all. We’ll be hand and glove together, my little doctor. I’ll drive you down to all the races, with my little terrier between your legs, in a tandem. Pang. Doctor Pangloss, the philosopher, with a terrier between his legs, in a tandemn ! Dick. I'll tell you what, doctor. I’ll make you my long-stop at cricket—you shall draw corks when I'm F. at my jokes before company—squeeze emons for punch—cast up the reckoning—and wo betide you if you don't keep sober enough to see me safe home after a jollification 1 Pang. Make me a long-stop, and a squeezer of lemons! Zounds ! this is more fatiguing than walking out with the lap-dogs And are these the qualifications for a tutor, young gentleman? Dick. To be sure ū; are. 'Tis the way that half the prig parsons, who educate us honourables, jump into fat livings. Pang. 'Tis well they jump into something fat at last, for they must wear all the flesh off their bones in the process. Dick. Come now, tutor, go you and call the waiter. Pang. Go and call! Sir-sir! I'd have you to understand, Mr Dowlas— Dick. Ay, let us understand one another, doctor. My father, I take it, comes down handsomely to you for your management of me? Pang. My lord has been liberal. Dick. But 'tis I must manage you, doctor. Acknowledge this, and, between ourselves, I'll find means to double your pay. Pang. Double my— Dick. Do you hesitate? Why, man, you have set up for a modern tutor without knowing your trade! Pang. Double my pay! Say no more—done. “Ac

I shall have a very refrac

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

Pang. Waiter! Here, put all the Honourable Mr Dowlas's clothes and linen into his father's, Lord Duberly's, chariot. Waiter. Where are they all, sir? Pang. All wrapt up in the Honourable Mr Dowlas's pocket handkerchief. [Ecit waiter with bundle. Dick. See 'em safe in, doctor, and I'll be with you directly. Pang. I go, most worthy pupil. Six hundred pounds a-year! However deficient in the classics, his knowledge of arithmetic is admirable! “I’ve often wished that I had, clear, For life—' Dick. Nay, nay, don't be so slow. Pang. Swift–Hem. I’m gone. [Erit. Dick. What am I to do with Zekiel and Cis? When a poor man has grown great, his old acquaintance generally begin to be troublesome.


Zek. Well, I han’t been long. Dick. No, you are come time enough, in all conscience. [Coolly. Zek. Cicely has gotten the place. I be e'en almost stark wild wi' joy. Such a good-natured young madam! Why, you don't seem pleased, man; sure, and sure, you be glad of our good fortune, Dick? Dick. Dick Why, what do you—oh but he doesn't know yet that I am a lord's son. I rejoice to hear of your success, friend Zekiel. Zek. Why, now, that's hearty. . But, eh? Why, you look mortal heavy and loop. Dick. No bad tidings since we ha’ been out, I hope? Dick. Oh no. Zek. Eh! Let's ha' a squint at you. Od rabbit it, but summut have happened. You have seen your father, and things ha’ gone crossish. Who have been here, Dick? Dick. Only a gentleman, who had the honour of being deputed ambassador from my father. Zek. What a dickens—an ambassador! Pish, now you be a queering a body. An ambassador sent from an old chandler to Dick Dowlas, Lawyer Latitat's clerk Come, that be a good one, fegs Dick. Dick Dowlas ! and lawyer's clerk! Sir, the tleman came to inform me that my father, by ing proved next of kin to the late lord, is now Lord Duberly; by which means I am now the Honourable Mr Dowlas. Zek. Ods flesh gi'e us your fist, Dick! I ne'er shook the fist of an honourable afore in all my born days. Old Daniel made a lord! I be main glad to hear it. This be news indeed. But, Dick, I hope he ha’ gotten some ready along wi' his title; for a lord without money be but a foolish wishy-washy kind of a thing a'ter all. Dick. My father's estate is fifteen thousand a-year. Zek. Mercy on us!—you ha’ ta'en away my breath ! Dick. Well, Zekiel, Cis and you shall hear from me soon. Zek. Why, you ben’t a going, Dick? Dick. I must pay my duty to his lordship; his chariot waits for me below. We have been some time acquainted, Zekiel, and you may depend upon my good offices. Zek. You do seem a little flustrated with these

[ocr errors]

tidings, Dick. I—I should be loath to think our kindness was a cooling. Dick. Oh no. Rely on my protection. Zek. Why, lookye, Dick Dowlas; as to protection, and all that, we ha’ been old friends; and if I should need it from you, it be no more nor my right to expect it, and your business to give it me; but Cicely ha’ gotten a place, and I ha' hands and health to get a livelihood. Fortune, good or bad, tries the man, they do say; and if I should hap to be made a lord to-morrow (as who can say what may betide, since they ha'made one out of an old chandler) Dick. Well, sir, and what then Zek. Why, then, the finest feather in my lordship's cap would be, to show that there would be as much shame in slighting an old friend because he be poor, as there be pleasure in owning him when it be in our power to do him service. Dick. You mistake me, Zekiel. I—I—s'death ! I’m quite confounded ! I’m trying to be as fashionable here as my neighbours, but nature comes in, and knocks it all on the head. [Aside.] Zekiel, give me your hand. Zek. Then there be a hearty Castleton slap for you. The grasp of an honest man can't disgrace the hand of a duke, Dick. Dick. You're a kind soul, Zekiel. I regard you sincerely; I love Cicely, and—hang it, I'm going too far now for a lord's son. Pride and old friendship are now fighting in me till I'm almost bewildered. [Aside]. You shall hear from me in a few hours. Good-by, Zekiel ; good-by. [Erit. Zek. I don’t know what ails me, but I be almost ready to cry. Dick be a high-mettled youth, and this news ha' put him a little beside himself. I should make a bit of allowance. His heart, I do think, be in the right road; and when that be the case, he be a hard judge that wont pardon an old friend's spirits when they do carry him a little way out on't. [E.cit.

[From ‘The Poor Gentleman.”] SIR CHARLEs CRoPLAND at breakfast; his Walet de Chambre adjusting his hair. Sir Cha. Has old Warner, the steward, been told that I arrived last night? Valet. Yes, Sir Charles; with orders to attend yo this morning. Sir Cha. [Yawning and stretching.] What can a man of fashion do with himself in the country at this wretchedly dull time of the year! Valet. It is very pleasant to-day out in the park, Sir Charles. Sir Cha. Pleasant, you booby! How can the country be pleasant in the middle of spring? All the world's in London. Valet. I think, somehow, it looks so lively, Sir Charles, when the corn is coming up. Sir Cha. Blockhead Vegetation makes the face of a country look frightful. It spoils hunting. Yet

as my business on my estate here is to raise supplies

for my pleasures elsewhere, my journey is a wise one. What day of the month was it yesterday, when I left town on this wise expedition ? Valet. The first of April, Sir Charles. Sir Cha. Umph! hen Mr Warner comes, show him in. Valet. I shall, Sir Charles. [Erit. Sir Cha. This same lumbering timber upon my ground has its merits. Trees are notes, issued from the bank of nature, and as current as those payable to Abraham Newland. I must get change for a few oaks, for I want cash consumedly. So, Mr Warner 1


Warner. Your honour is right welcome into Kent. I am proud to see Sir Charles Cropland on his estate

FROM 1780

again. I hope you mean to stay on the spot for some time, Sir Charles? Sir Cha. A very tedious time. Warner. | Warner. Ah, good sir! things would prosper better if you honoured us with your presence a little more. | f wish you lived entirely upon the estate, Sir | Charles. | Sir Cha. Thank you, Warner; but modern men of fashion find it difficult to live upon their estates. Warner. The country about you so charming! Sir Cha. Look ye, Warner—I must hunt in Leices| tershire—for that's the thing. In the frosts and the spring months, I must be in town at the clubs—for that's the thing. In summer I must be at the watering places—for that's the thing. Now, Warner, under these circumstances, how is it possible for me to reside upon my estate? For my estate being in Kent— Warner. The most beautiful part of the county. Sir Cha. Psha, beauty 1 we don’t mind that in Leicestershire. My estate, I say, being in Kent— Warner. A land of milk and honey! Sir Cha. I hate milk and honey. Warner. A land of fat! Sir Cha. Hang your fat!—listen to me—my estate being in Kent Warner. So woody! Sir Cha. Curse the wood l No-that's wrong; for it's convenient. I am come on purpose to cut it. Warner. Ah! I was afraid sol Dice on the table, and then the axe to the root! Money lost at play, and then, good lack! the forest groans for it. Sir Cha. But you are not the forest, and why do you groan for it! Warner. I heartily wish, Sir Charles, you may not encumber the goodly estate. Your worthy ancestors had views for their posterity. Sir Cha. And I shall have views for my posterity— I shall take special care the trees shan’t intercept their prospect.

Three days, Mr


Servant. Mr Ollapod, the apothecary, is in the hall, Sir Charles, to inquire after your health. Sir Cha. Show him in. [Exit servant.] The fellow's a character, and treats time as he does his patients. He shall kill a quarter of an hour for me this morning. In short, Mr Warner, I must have three thousand pounds in three days. Fell timber to that amount immediately. 'Tis my peremptory order, sir. Warner. I shall obey you, Sir Charles; but 'tis with a heavy heart! Forgive an old servant of the family if he grieves to see you forget some of the duties for which society has a claim upon you. Sir Cha. What do you mean by duties? Warner. Duties, Sir Charles, which the extravagant man of property can never fulfil—such as to support the dignity of an English landholder for the honour of old England; to promote the welfare of his honest tenants; and to succour the industrious poor, who naturally look up to him for assistance. But I shall obey you, Sir Charles. [Exit. Sir Cha. A tiresome old blockhead! But where is this Ollapod? His jumble of physic and shooting may enliven me; and, to a man of gallantry in the country, his intelligence is by no means uninteresting, nor his services inconvenient. Ha, Ollapod!

Enter Ollarod.

Ollapod. Sir Charles, I have the honour to be your slave. Hope your health is good. Been a hard winter here. Sore throats were plenty; so were woodcocks. Flushed four couple one morning in a halfmile walk from our town to cure Mrs Quarles of a quinsey. May coming on soon, Sir Charles—season

[blocks in formation]

of delight, love and campaigning ! Hope you come to sojourn, Sir Charles. Shouldn't be always on the wing—that's being too flighty. He, he, hel Do you take, good sir—do you take Sir Cha. Oh yes, I take. But, by the cockade in your hat, Ollapod, you have added lately, it seems, to your avocations. Olla. He! he yes, Sir Charles. I have now the honour to be cornet in the Volunteer Association corps of our town. It fell out unexpected—pop, on a sudden; like the going off of a field-piece, or an alderman in an apoplexy. Sir Cha. Explain. Olla. Happening to be at home—rainy day—no going out to sport, blister, shoot, nor bleed—was busy behind the counter. You know my shop, Sir Charles || —Galen's head over the door—new gilt him last week, by the by—looks as fresh as a pill. Sir Cha. Well, no more on that head now. Proceed. Olla. On that head 1 he, he, hel That's very well— very well, indeed! Thank you, good sir; I owe you one. Churchwarden Posh, of our town, being ill of an indigestion from eating three pounds of measly pork at a vestry dinner, I was making up a cathartic for the patient, when who should strut into the shop but Lieutenant Grains, the brewer—sleek as a drayhorse—in a smart scarlet jacket, tastily turned up with a rhubarb-coloured lapelle. I confess his figure struck me. I looked at him as I was thumping the mortar, and felt instantly inoculated with a military ardour. Sir Cha. Inoculated favourable sort : Olla. Ha! has That's very well—very well, indeed! Thank you, good sir; I owe you one. We first talked of shooting. He knew my celebrity that way, Sir Charles. I told him the day before I had killed six brace of birds. I thumpt on at the mortar. We then talked of physic. I told him the day before I had killed—lost, I mean—six brace of patients. I thumpt on at the mortar, eyeing him all the while; for he looked very flashy, to be sure; and I felt an itching to belong to the corps. The medical and military both deal in death, you know; so 'twas natural. He! hel Do you take, good sir—do you take? Sir Cha. Take? Oh, nobody can miss. Olla. He then talked of the corps itself; said it was

I hope your ardour was of a t

sickly; and if a professional person would administer to the health of the Association—dose the men and drench the horse—he could perhaps procure him a cornetcy. Sir Cha. Well, you jumped at the offer? Olla. Jumped! I jumped over the counter, kicked down Churchwarden Posh's cathartic into the pocket of Lieutenant Grains' small scarlet jacket, tastily turned up with a rhubarb-coloured lapelle; embraced him and his offer; and I am now Cornet Ollapod, apothecary at the Galen's Head, of the Association Corps of Cavalry, at your service. o ir Cha. I wish you joy of your appointment. You may now distil water for the shop from the laurels you gather in the field. a. Water for—oh laurel water—he hel Come, that's very well—very well indeed! Thank you, ood sir; I owe you one. Why, I fancy fame will ollow when the poison of a small mistake 1 made has ceased to operate. Sir Cha. A mistake? Olla. Having to attend Lady Kitty Carbuncle on a grand field-day, I clapt a pint bottle of her ladyship's diet-drink into one of my holsters, intending to proceed to the patient after the exercise was over. I reached the martial ground, and jalloped—gallopped, I mean—wheeled, and flourished, with great eclát; but when the word “Fire’ was given, meaning

to pull out my pistol in a terrible hurry, I presented, neck foremost, the hanged diet-drink of Lady Kitty | Carbuncle; and the medicine being unfortunately fermented by the jolting of my horse, it forced out the cork with a prodigious pop full in the face of my gallant commander.

[OLLApod visits Miss Lucartia MacTAB, a “stiff maiden aunt,' sister of one of the oldest barons in Scotland.]

Enter Foss.

Foss. There is one Mr Ollapod at the gate, an’ please your ladyship's honour, come to pay a visit to the family. Lucretia. Ollapod What is the gentleman? Foss. He says he's a cornet in the Galen's Head. 'Tis the first time I ever heard of the corps. Luc. Ha! some new raised regiment. Show the gentleman in. [Ecit Foss.] The country, then, has heard of my arrival at last. A woman of condition, in a family, can never long conceal her retreat. Ollapods that sounds like an ancient name. If I am not mistaken, he is nobly descended.

Enter Ollapod.

Olla. Madam, I have the honour of paying my respects. Sweet spot, here, among the cows; good for consumptions — charming woods hereabouts— pheasants flourish—so do agues—sorry not to see the good lieutenant—admire his room—hope soon to have his company. Do you take, good madam—do you take : Luc. I beg, sir, you will be seated. Olla. Oh, dearmadam 1 [Sitting down.] A charming chair to bleed in! [Aside. | Luc. I am sorry Mr Worthington is not at home to receive you, sir. | Olla. You are a relation of the lieutenant, madam? | Luc. I; only by his marriage, I assure you, sir. | Aunt to his deceased wife: but I am not surprised at your question. My friends, in town would wonder to see the Honourable Miss Lucretia MacTab, sister to the late Lord Lofty, cooped up in a farmhouse. | Olla. [Aside.] The honourable ! humph 1 a bit of quality tumbled into decay. The sister of a dead peer in a pig-stye | - . You are of the military, I am informed, sir?

Olla. He he Yes, madam. Cornet Ollapod, of our volunteers—a fine healthy troop—ready to give the enemy a dose whenever they dare to attack us. Luc. I was always prodigiously partial to the military. My great grandfather, Marmaduke Baron Lofty, commanded a troop of horse under the Duke of Marlborough, that famous general of his age. Olla. Marlborough was a hero of a man, Inadam; and lived at Woodstock—a sweet sporting country; where Rosamond perished by poison—arsenic as likely as anything. Luc. And have you served much, Mr Ollapod Olla. He, he Yes, madam; served all the nobility and gentry for five miles round. Luc. Sir! oua. And shall be happy to serve the good lieutenant and his family. [Bowing. Lue. We shall be proud of your acquaintance, sir. | A gentleman of the army is always an acquisition among the Goths and Vandals of the country, where every sheepish squire has the air of an apothecary. Olla. Madam . An apothe—Zounds !—hum!— He! hel I—You must know, I—I deal a little in Galenicals myself [Sheepishly]. Luc. Galenicals; Oh, they are for operations, I suppose, among the military Olla. Operations! he he Come, that's very well—

| very well indeed! Thank you, good madam; I owe you one. Galenicals, madam, are medicines. Luc. Medicines 1 Olla. Yes, physic: buckthorn, senna, and so forth. Luc. [Rising.] Why, then, you are an apothecary? Olla. [Rising too, and bowing.] And man-midwife at your service, madam. Luc. At my service, indeed! Olla. Yes, madam | Cornet Ollapod at the gilt Galen's Head, of the Volunteer Association Corps of Cavalry—as ready for the foe as a customer; always willing to charge them both. Do you take, good madam—do you take? Luc. And has the Honourable Miss Lucretia MacTab been talking all this while to a petty dealer in drugs? Olla. Drugs! Why, she turns up her honourable nose as if she was going to swallow them I [Aside.] No man more respected than myself, madam. Courted by the corps, idolised by invalids; and for a shot—ask my friend Sir Charles Cropland. Luc. Is Sir Charles Cropland a friend of yours, sir? Olla. Intimate. He doesn’t make wry faces at physic, whatever others may do, madam. This village flanks the intrenchments of his park—full of fine fat venison; which is as light a food for digestion as

Luc. But he is never on his estate here, I am told. Olla. He quarters there at this moment. Luc. Bless me! has Sir Charles then— Olla. Told me all—your accidental meeting in the metropolis, and his visits when the lieutenant was out. Luc. Oh, shocking! I declare I shall faint. Olla. Faint I never mind that, with a medical man in the room. I can bring you about in a twinkling. Luc. And what has Sir Charles Cropland presumed to advance about me ! Olla. Oh, nothing derogatory. Respectful as a ducklegged drummer to a commander-in-chief. Luc. I have only proceeded in this affair from the purest motives, and in a mode becoming a MacTab. Olla. None dare to doubt it. Luc. And if Sir Charles has dropt in to a dish of tea with myself and Emily in London, when the lieutenant was out, I see no harm in it. Olla. Nor I neither: except that tea shakes the nervous system to shatters. But to the point: the baronet's my bosom friend. Having heard you were here, ‘Ollapod,” says he, squeezing my hand in his own, which %. strong symptoms of fever—‘Ollapod,' says he, “you are a military man, and may be trusted.’ “I’m a cornet,” says I, ‘and close as a pill-box.’ ‘Fly, then, to Miss Lucretia MacTab, that honourable picture of prudence—" Luc. He he Did Sir Charles say that? Olla. [Aside..] How these tabbies love to be toaded! Luc. In short, Sir Charles, I perceive, has appointed you his emissary, to consult with me when he may have an interview. Olla. Madam, you are the sharpest shot at the truth I ever met in my life. And now we are in consultation, what think you of a walk with Miss Emily by the old elms at the back of the village this evening? Luc. Why, I am willing to take any steps which may promote Emily's future welfare. ź. Take steps what, in a walk He hel Come, that's very well—very well indeed! Thank you, good madam; I owe you one. I shall communicate to my friend with due despatch. Command Cornet Ollapod on all occasions ; and whatever the gilt Galen's Head can produce— Luc. [Curtsying.] Oh, sir! Olla. By the by, I have some double-distilled

[ocr errors]


TILL the present time.

| FROM 1780

lavender water, much admired in our corps. Permit me to send a pint bottle by way of present. Luc. Dear sir, I shall rob you. Olla. Quite the contrary; for I'll set it down to Sir Charles as a quart. [Aside..] Madam, your slave. You have prescribed for our patient like an able physician. Not a step. Luc. Nay, I insist— Olla. Then I must follow in the rear—the physician always before the apothecary. Luc. Apothecary Sir, in this business I look upon you as a general officer. Olla. Do you? Thank you, good ma'am ; I owe you one. [Ereunt.

The humorous poetry of Colman has been as popular as his plays. Of his ‘Broad Grins,' the eighth edition (London, 1839) is now before us. Some of the pieces are tinged with indelicacy, but others display his lively sparkling powers of wit and observation in a very agreeable light. We subjoin two of these pleasant levities.

The Newcastle Apothecary.

A man in many a country town, we know, Professes openly with death to wrestle;

Entering the field against the grimly foe, Armed with a mortar and a pestle.

Yet some affirm, no enemies they are;
But meet just like prize-fighters in a fair,
Who first shake hands before they box,
Then give each other plaguy knocks,
With all the love and kindness of a brother:
So (many a suffering patient saith)
Though the apothecary fights with Death,
Still they're sworn friends to one another.

A member of this JEsculapian line,
Lived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne:
No man could better gild a pill,
Or make a bill;
Or mix a draught, or bleed, or blister;
Or draw a tooth out of your head;
Or chatter scandal by your bed;
Or give a clyster.

Of occupations these were quantum suff.:
Yet still he thought the list not long enough;
And therefore midwifery he chose to pin to't.
This balanced things; for if he hurled
A few score mortals from the world,
He made amends by bringing others into't.

His fame full six miles round the country ran;
In short, in reputation he was solus:

All the old women called him “a fine mans’
His name was Bolus.

Benjamin Bolus, though in trade
(Which oftentimes will genius fetter),

Read works of fancy, it is said,
And cultivated the belles lettres.

And why should this be thought so odd?
Can't men have taste who cure a phthisic?
Of poetry, though patron god,
Apollo patronises physic.
Bolus loved verse, and took so much delight in't,
That his prescriptions he resolved to write in’t.

No opportunity he e'er let pass
Of writing the directions on his labels
In dapper couplets, like Gay's Fables,

Or rather like the lines in Hudibras.

Apothecary's verse! and where's the treason? 'Tis simply honest dealing; not a crime;

When patients swallow physic without reason, It is but fair to give a little rhyme.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Next night 'twas the same; and the next, and the next; He perspired like an ox; he was nervous and vexed: Week passed after week, till, by weekly succession, His weakly condition was past all expression. In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him; For his skin, “like a lady's loose gown, hung about him. He sent for a doctor, and cried like a ninny; ‘I have lost many pounds—make me well—there's a guinea.'

« PoprzedniaDalej »