ied from Troy's horse of old.
BUT to our lady's humour let's adhere;
Sighs passed for naught: they entered not her ear;
'Twas speaking only would the charmer please,
The reader, without doubt, my meaning sees;
Gay Gulphar plainly spoke, and named a sum
A hundred pounds, she listened:--was o'ercome.
OUR wight the cash by Gasperin was lent;
And then the husband to the country went,
Without suspecting that his loving mate,
Designed with horns to ornament his pate.
THE money artful Gulphar gave the dame,
While friends were round who could observe the same;
Here, said the spark, a hundred pounds receive,
'Tis for your spouse:--the cash with you I leave.
The lady fancied what the swain had said,
Was policy, and to concealment led.
NEXT morn our belle regaled the arch gallant,
Fulfilled his promise:--and his eager want.
Day after day he followed up the game;
For cash he took, and int'rest on the same;
Good payers get, we always may conclude,
Full measure served, whatever is pursued.
WHEN Gasperin returned, our crafty wight,
Before the wife addressed her spouse at sight;
Said he the cash I've to your lady paid,
Not having (as I feared) required its aid;
To save mistakes, pray cross it in your book;
The lady, thunderstruck, with terror shook;
Allowed the payment; 'twas a case too clear;
In truth for character she 'gan to fear.
But most howe'er she grudged the surplus joy,
Bestowed on such a vile, deceitful boy.
THE loss was doubtless great in ev'ry view
Around the town the wicked Gulphar flew;
In all the streets, at every house to tell,
How nicely he had trick'd the greedy belle.
To blame him useless 'twere you must allow;
The French such frolicks readily avow.
FAVORITE QUOTATIONS
A pretty wife? Beware the monks as you would guard your life
Above all law is might
Avoid attorneys, if you comfort crave
But reason 's fruitless, with a soul on fire
By others do The same as you would like they should by you
Caresses lavish, and you'll find return
Criticism never stops short nor ever wants for subjects
Delays are dangerous, in love or war
Ev'ry grave's the same
Extremes in ev'ry thing will soonest tire
Favours, when conferred with sullen air, But little gratify
Few ponder long when they can dupe with ease
Fools or brutes, With whose ideas reason never suits
He who loves would fain be loved a
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