Then-"Fairest, for thy beauty's sake,
Which long has fired my breast,
Permit me to your maid to make
A single short request !

"And yet you know what I'd require,
And wherefore I apply:
Nought unrequited I desire,

But gold the boon shall buy.

"I'll give, my fairest, what you please—
You'll not exact, I'm sure:

Then deign, bright charmer, deign to ease
The torments I endure."

Assent sat smiling in her eyes;
Her lily hand he seized;
Nor feign'd she very great surprise,
Nor look'd so much displeased.

She blush'd a little too, methought,
As though she should refuse-
But women, I've been told, are taught
To blush whene'er they choose.

Hippias was now quite hand in glove,
With Miss, and firmly bent

To take her to the bower of Love,

He whisper'd as he went

"Well, Phil, say now whose judgment's best?
Was I so very wrong?

You saw, not eagerly I press'd,

Nor did I press her long.

"But you are ignorant, I see,

So follow, and improve,

For few, I ween, can teach like me

The mysteries of Love."

EPISTLE V. THE EXPEDIENT.*

ALCIPHRON TO LUCIAN.

T'OTHER day Charidemus a feast did prepare,

And with all his acquaintances fill'd up the room:

The writer here describes an ingenious device practised by a lady of gallantry to deceive a suspicious husband.

'Mong the rest, (for you know his tendresse for the fair,)
Another man's wife he persuaded to come.

The guests were all seated, when in comes our spark,
Introducing to table a musty old dad,

Whom as soon as the lady had time to remark,

To another apartment she scuttled like mad.

"Charidemus," said she, "do you know what you've done? That old fellow's my husband just now you brought in:

I shall here be discover'd, as sure as a gun,

By the cloak I pull'd off, and which hangs on a pin.

"But if you can assist me, and privately send

That cloak to my house, with a dish of your meat, I've a trick that shall quickly his jealousy end;

His suspicions I'll 'scape, and his vigilance cheat."

Away then she slipt, and got quick to her house,
Then sent for a gossip, her help to implore;
And they'd scarce fix'd their plan the old cuckold to chouse,
When blust'ring and swearing he came to the door.

He cried, while he sought for his poignard to stab her,
"No more shall you shame me;-your cloak show'd your
pranks."—

But while he was storming thus, in pops her neighbour,
The cloak to return to its owner with thanks.

"I'm come to acknowledge your favour," she said,

"And some prog from the feast have I brought with me here :

I knew that at home all the ev'ning you stay'd,
So was willing to give you a taste of our cheer."

The silly curmudgeon grew meek as a lamb,
On hearing this story, and seeing the meat;
For pardon he sued from his retrograde dame,
And bow'd with contrition quite down to her feet.

He vow'd that he ne'er would suspect her again,
If now she'd accept his most humble submission;
And swore Dian herself sent the old woman in,
To show him the folly of groundless suspicion.

EPISTLE VI. THE CONSOLATION.❤

HERMOCRATES TO EUPHORION.t

SAYS a girl to her nurse, "I've a tale to unfold,
Of utmost concern to us both;

But first you must swear not to blab when you're told."
-Nurse greedily swallow'd the oath.

"I've lost, my dear mother," the innocent said,
1."What should be a virgin's chief pride."-
I wish you had seen what a face the dame made,
And heard how she blubber'd and cried.

"Hush, for God's sake," says Miss, in a whispering tone,
"The people will hear you within;
You have sworn to discover my secret to none,
Then why such a horrible din ?

"My virtue long all opposition withstood,
And scorn'd at Love's efforts to flinch;
It retreated at last-but as slow as it could,
40 Disputing the ground inch by inch.

"In vain to my aid did I reason invoke;
Young Cupid no reason could quell;

He'd got root in my heart, and there grew like an oak,
So I fell-but reluctantly fell.

"Yet surely young Lysias has charms to betray;
Too charming, alas, to be true!

But you never heard the soft things he can say―
Ah! would I had ne'er heard them too:

For now that the spoiler has robb'd me of all
My innocent heart used to prize,

He cruelly mocks at my tears as they fall-
The tears he has drawn from my eyes."

"You've play'd a sad game," cries the matron, aghast ;
"Besides, you disgrace my gray head:

But since no reflections can alter what's past,

Cheer up there's no more to be said.

This Epistle describes the distress of a girl who has been debauched, with the consolation of the good old woman her nurse.

+ The subject of this Epistle does not in the least regard the writer; who, as in the preceding one, only entertains his correspondent with a little tale, or amusing description. The case is the same with many of the subsequent

ones.

"Cheer up, child, I say; why there's no such great crime;

Sure I too have met with false men:

I've known what it was to be trick'd in my time;
But I know too-to trick them again.

"But do so no more; lest, should you be rash,
Your apron-strings publish your tricks:
Your father, I hope, has a round sum of cash,
And soon on your husband will fix.

"Some innocent swain, (if such innocence be !)
Unskill'd in the myst'ries of love;
Whose gallantry ne'er went 'yond Phyllis's knee,
Or fast'ning the garter above.

"My humble petition may Jupiter hear,

And grant that you quickly may wed."— "So at present, dear mother, I've nothing to fear No tale-telling urchin to dread?"—

"You're safe, my dear daughter, I fancy, as yet;
And when at the altar you're tied,

I'll teach you a method your husband to cheat,
For a virgin, as well as a bride."

EPISTLE VII. THE DISAPPOINTMENT.

CYRTION TO DICTYS.

LATE as upon the rocky strand

Alone the death-barb'd bait I threw,

Just as I tow'd a fish to land,

Which almost broke my line in two

Comes a fair maid, whose native bloom
The tinct of art excall'd as far,
As the wild fruits of Nature's womb
Beyond the hotbed's produce are.

This prize is better than my fish,
Thought I-'tis sure a lucky day.—
"I want to bathe, sir, and I wish

You'd watch my clothes while I'm away."

* Epistle VII.] A disagreeable end to a pleasing rencontre.

"Yes, yes," I eagerly replied,

In hopes her naked charms to spy, "I'll watch your clothes, and by their side My faithful little dog shall lie."

She bow'd, and doff'd her mantle blue;

Good heavens! what beauties struck my sight:
Thus morn's sweet ruddy skies I view,
Fresh from the midst of lagging night.

Bright polish'd arms, a neck of snow,
Through locks of lovely jet were seen;
Which by their blackness seem'd to throw
An added lustre on her skin.

Two rising globules at her breast,
Whose swelling throb was such,
They seem'd upheaving to be prest,
And sued impatient for the touch.

The wind was hush'd, the sea was calm,

And in she leap'd, and plough'd the tide
The froth that bubbled as she swam,
Lost all its whiteness by her side.

But soon the wave's impetuous gush
Dash'd o'er her form a crimson hue;
She blush'd-you've seen the rosebud blush
Beneath its morning coat of dew.

Askance she view'd the watery space,
Her neck averted from the tide,
As if old Ocean's cold embrace
Would shock her modest virgin-pride.

Each pressing wave, that seem'd to try
With am'rous haste her limbs to kiss,
With coy rebuke she patted by;

Rebuked-but never could dismiss.

Still as she stemm'd her liquid way,

Thought I, a Nereid 'tis that laves: And when she tired, and left her play, 'Twas Venus rising from the waves. Then from her oozy bed she sprung,

And shiv'ring on the bank reclined,