TALE XII.

'SQUIRE THOMAS.

'SQUIRE THOMAS flatter'd long a wealthy Aunt,
Who left him all that she could give or grant:
Ten years he tried, with all his craft and skill,
To fix the sovereign Lady's varying will;
Ten years enduring at her board to sit,
He meekly listen'd to her tales and wit;
He took the meanest office man can take,
And his Aunt's vices for her money's sake:
By many a threat'ning hint she waked his fear,
And he was pain'd to see a rival near;
Yet all the taunts of her contemptuous pride
He bore, nor found his grov'ling spirit tried:
Nay, when she wish'd his parents to traduce,
Fawning he smiled, and justice call'd th' abuse;
"They taught you nothing; are you not, at best,"
Said the proud Dame, "a trifler, and a jest?"
"Confess you are a fool !"-he bow'd and he confess'd.

This vex'd him much, but could not always last: The Dame is buried, and the trial past.

There was a Female, who had courted long
Her Cousin's gifts, and deeply felt the wrong;
By a vain Boy forbidden to attend

The private councils of her wealthy friend,
She vow'd revenge, nor should that crafty boy
In triumph undisturb'd his spoils enjoy;

He heard, he smiled, and when the Will was read,
Kindly dismiss'd the Kindred of the dead;
"The dear deceased," he call'd her, and the crowd
Moved off with curses deep and threat'nings loud.

The Youth retired, and, with a mind at ease, Found he was rich, and fancied he must please: He might have pleased, and to his comfort found The Wife he wish'd, if he had sought around; For there were Lasses of his own degree, With no more hatred to the state than he: But he had courted spleen and age so long, His heart refused to woo the fair and young; So long attended on caprice and whim, He thought attention now was due to him; And as his flattery pleased the wealthy Dame, Heir to the wealth he might the flattery claim; But this the Fair, with one accord, denied, Nor waved for Man's caprice the Sex's pride:

There is a season when to them is due

Worship and awe, and they will claim it too: "Fathers,” they cry, "long hold us in their chain, "Nay, tyrant Brothers claim a right to reign; "Uncles and Guardians we in turn obey, "And Husbands rule with ever-during sway; "Short is the time when Lovers at the feet "Of Beauty kneel, and own the slavery sweet; "And shall we this our triumph, this the aim "And boast of female power, forbear to claim? "No! we demand that homage, that respect, "Or the proud rebel punish and reject."

Our Hero, still too indolent, too nice
To pay for Beauty the accustom'd price,
No less forbore t' address the humbler Maid,
Who might have yielded with the price unpaid;
But lived, himself to humour and to please,

To count his money, and enjoy his ease.

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It pleased a neighbouring 'Squire to recommend A faithful Youth, as servant to his friend; Nay, more than servant, whom he praised for Ductile yet strong, and for the best of hearts; One who might ease him in his small affairs, With tenants, tradesmen, taxes, and repairs;

Answer his letters, look to all his dues,

And entertain him with discourse and news.

The 'Squire believed, and found the trusted Youth
A very pattern for his care and truth;
Not for his virtues to be praised alone,
But for a modest mien and humble tone;
Assenting always, but as if he meant
Only to strength of reasons to assent:

For was he stubborn, and retain'd his doubt,
Till the more subtle 'Squire had forced it out;

"Nay, still was right, but he perceived that strong "And powerful minds could make the right the wrong."

When the 'Squire's thoughts on some fair damsel dwelt,

The faithful Friend his apprehensions felt;

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It would rejoice his faithful heart to find
A Lady suited to his Master's mind;
But who deserved that Master? who would
That hers was pure, uninterested love?
Although a Servant, he would scorn to take
A Countess, till she suffer'd for his sake;
Some tender spirit, humble, faithful, true,
Such, my dear Master! must be sought for you.

Six months had pass'd, and not a Lady seen, With just this love, 'twixt fifty and fifteen; All seem'd his doctrine or his pride to shun, All would be woo'd, before they would be won; When the chance naming of a race and fair, Our 'Squire disposed to take his pleasure there: The Friend profess'd," although he first began "To hint the thing, it seem'd a thoughtless plan: "The roads, he fear'd, were foul, the days were short, "The village far, and yet there might be sport."

"What! you of roads and starless nights afraid? "You think to govern! you to be obey'd!" Smiling he spoke, the humble friend declared His soul's obedience, and to go prepared.

The place was distant, but with great delight
They saw a race, and hail'd the glorious sight:
The 'Squire exulted, and declared the ride
Had amply paid, and he was satisfied.

They gazed, they feasted, and, in happy mood,
Homeward return'd, and hastening as they rode;
For short the day, and sudden was the change
From light to darkness, and the way was strange;
Our hero soon grew peevish, then distress'd;
He dreaded darkness, and he sigh'd for rest: