|
Monday, March 10, 1712 |
Steele |
Ad humum mærore gravi deducit et angit.
Hor.
translation
It is often said, after a Man has heard a Story with extraordinary
Circumstances, It is a very good one if it be true: But as for the
following Relation, I should be glad were I sure it were false. It is
told with such Simplicity, and there are so many artless Touches of
Distress in it, that I fear it comes too much from the Heart.
Mr. Spectator,
'Some Years ago it happened that I lived in the same House with a
young Gentleman of Merit; with whose good Qualities I was so much
taken, as to make it my Endeavour to shew as many as I was able in my
self. Familiar Converse improved general Civilities into an unfeigned
Passion on both Sides. He watched an Opportunity to declare himself to
me; and I, who could not expect a Man of so great an Estate as his,
received his Addresses in such Terms, as gave him no reason to believe
I was displeased by them, tho' I did nothing to make him think me more
easy than was decent. His Father was a very hard worldly Man, and
proud; so that there was no reason to believe he would easily be
brought to think there was any thing in any Woman's Person or
Character that could ballance the Disadvantage of an unequal Fortune.
In the mean time the Son continued his Application to me, and omitted
no Occasion of demonstrating the most disinterested Passion imaginable
to me; and in plain direct Terms offer'd to marry me privately, and
keep it so till he should be so happy as to gain his Father's
Approbation, or become possessed of his Estate. I passionately loved
him, and you will believe I did not deny such a one what was my
Interest also to grant. However I was not so young, as not to take the
Precaution of carrying with me a faithful Servant, who had been also
my Mother's Maid, to be present at the Ceremony. When that was over I
demanded a Certificate, signed by the Minister, my Husband, and the
Servant I just now spoke of. After our Nuptials, we conversed together
very familiarly in the same House; but the Restraints we were
generally under, and the Interviews we had, being stolen and
interrupted, made our Behaviour to each other have rather the
impatient Fondness which is visible in Lovers, than the regular and
gratified Affection which is to be observed in Man and Wife. This
Observation made the Father very anxious for his Son, and press him to
a Match he had in his Eye for him. To relieve my Husband from this
Importunity, and conceal the Secret of our Marriage, which I had
reason to know would not be long in my power in Town, it was resolved
that I should retire into a remote Place in the Country, and converse
under feigned Names by Letter. We long continued this Way of Commerce;
and I with my Needle, a few Books, and reading over and over my
Husband's Letters, passed my Time in a resigned Expectation of better
Days. Be pleased to take notice, that within four Months after I left
my Husband I was delivered of a Daughter, who died within few Hours
after her Birth. This Accident, and the retired Manner of Life I led,
gave criminal Hopes to a neighbouring Brute of a Country Gentle-man,
whose Folly was the Source of all my Affliction. This Rustick is one
of those rich Clowns, who supply the Want of all manner of Breeding by
the Neglect of it, and with noisy Mirth, half Understanding, and ample
Fortune, force themselves upon Persons and Things, without any Sense
of Time and Place. The poor ignorant People where I lay conceal'd, and
now passed for a Widow, wondered I could be so shy and strange, as
they called it, to the Squire; and were bribed by him to admit him
whenever he thought fit. I happened to be sitting in a little Parlour
which belonged to my own Part of the House, and musing over one of the
fondest of my Husband's Letters, in which I always kept the
Certificate of my Marriage, when this rude Fellow came in, and with
the nauseous Familiarity of such unbred Brutes, snatched the Papers
out of my Hand. I was immediately under so great a Concern, that I
threw my self at his Feet, and begged of him to return them. He with
the same odious Pretence to Freedom and Gaiety, swore he would read
them. I grew more importunate, he more curious, till at last, with an
Indignation arising from a Passion I then first discovered in him, he
threw the Papers into the Fire, swearing that since he was not to read
them, the Man who writ them should never be so happy as to have me
read them over again. It is insignificant to tell you my Tears and
Reproaches made the boisterous Calf leave the Room ashamed and out of
Countenance, when I had leisure to ruminate on this Accident with more
than ordinary Sorrow: However, such was then my Confidence in my
Husband, that I writ to him the Misfortune, and desired another Paper
of the same kind. He deferred writing two or three Posts, and at last
answered me in general, That he could not then send me what I asked
for, but when he could find a proper Conveyance, I should be sure to
have it. From this time his Letters were more cold every Day than the
other, and as he grew indifferent I grew jealous. This has at last
brought me to Town, where I find both the Witnesses of my Marriage
dead, and that my Husband, after three Months Cohabitation, has buried
a young Lady whom he married in Obedience to his Father. In a word, he
shuns and disowns me. Should I come to the House and confront him, the
Father would join in supporting him against me, though he believed my
Story; should I talk it to the World, what Reparation can I expect for
an Injury I cannot make out? I believe he means to bring me, through
Necessity, to resign my Pretentions to him for some Provision for my
Life; but I will die first. Pray bid him remember what he said, and
how he was charmed when he laughed at the heedless Discovery I often
made of my self; let him remember how awkward he was in my dissembled
Indifference towards him before Company; ask him how I, who could
never conceal my Love for him, at his own Request, can part with him
for ever? Oh, Mr. Spectator, sensible Spirits know no Indifference in
Marriage; what then do you think is my piercing Affliction?—- I
leave you to represent my Distress your own way, in which I desire you
to be speedy, if you have Compassion for Innocence exposed to Infamy.
Octavia.
T.
Contents
|
Tuesday, March 11, 1712 |
Addison |
The journal with which I presented my Reader on Tuesday last, has
brought me in several Letters, with Accounts of many private Lives cast
into that Form. I have the
Rake's Journal,
the
Sot's Journal,
the
Whoremaster's Journal,
and among several others a very curious Piece,
entituled,
The Journal of a Mohock
. By these Instances I find that the
Intention of my last Tuesday's Paper has been mistaken by many of my
Readers. I did not design so much to expose Vice as Idleness, and aimed
at those Persons who pass away their Time rather in Trifle and
Impertinence, than in Crimes and Immoralities. Offences of this latter
kind are not to be dallied with, or treated in so ludicrous a manner. In
short, my Journal only holds up Folly to the Light, and shews the
Disagreeableness of such Actions as are indifferent in themselves, and
blameable only as they proceed from Creatures endow'd with Reason.
My following Correspondent, who calls her self
Clarinda
, is such a
Journalist as I require: She seems by her Letter to be placed in a
modish State of Indifference between Vice and Virtue, and to be
susceptible of either, were there proper Pains taken with her. Had her
Journal been filled with Gallantries, or such Occurrences as had shewn
her wholly divested of her natural Innocence, notwithstanding it might
have been more pleasing to the Generality of Readers, I should not have
published it; but as it is only the Picture of a Life filled with a
fashionable kind of Gaiety and Laziness, I shall set down five Days of
it, as I have received it from the Hand of my fair Correspondent.
Dear Mr. Spectator,
'You having set your Readers an Exercise in one of your last Week's
Papers, I have perform'd mine according to your Orders, and herewith
send it you enclosed. You must know, Mr. Spectator, that I am a Maiden
Lady of a good Fortune, who have had several Matches offered me for
these ten Years last past, and have at present warm Applications made
to me by a very pretty Fellow. As I am at my own Disposal, I come up
to Town every Winter, and pass my Time in it after the manner you will
find in the following Journal, which I begun to write upon the very
Day after your Spectator upon that Subject.
| Tuesday |
Night. |
Could not go to sleep till one in the Morning for
thinking of my Journal. |
| Wednesday |
From Eight 'till Ten |
Drank two Dishes of Chocolate in
Bed, and fell asleep after 'em. |
|
From Ten to Eleven. |
Eat a Slice of Bread and Butter, drank a Dish of
Bohea, read the Spectator. |
|
From Eleven to One. |
At my Toilet, try'd a new Head. Gave Orders for
Veny to be combed and washed. Mem. I look best in Blue. |
|
From One till Half an Hour after Two. |
Drove to the Change. Cheapned
a Couple of Fans. |
|
Till Four. |
At Dinner. Mem. Mr. Froth passed by in his new Liveries. |
|
From Four to Six. |
Dressed, paid a Visit to old Lady Blithe and her
Sister, having before heard they were gone out of Town that Day. |
|
From Six to Eleven. |
At Basset. Mem. Never set again upon the Ace of
Diamonds. |
| Thursday |
From Eleven at Night to Eight in the Morning. |
Dream'd that
I punted to Mr. Froth. |
|
From Eight to Ten. |
Chocolate. Read two Acts in Aurenzebe2 abed. |
|
From Ten to Eleven. |
Tea-Table. Sent to borrow Lady Faddle's Cupid
for Veny. Read the Play-Bills. Received a Letter from Mr. Froth.
Mem. locked it up in my strong Box. |
|
Rest of the Morning. |
Fontange, the Tire-woman, her Account of my
Lady Blithe's Wash. Broke a Tooth in my little Tortoise-shell Comb.
Sent Frank to know how my Lady Hectick rested after her Monky's
leaping out at Window. Looked pale. Fontange tells me my Glass is
not true. Dressed by Three. |
|
From Three to Four. |
Dinner cold before I sat down. |
|
From Four to Eleven. |
Saw Company. Mr. Froth's Opinion of Milton. His
Account of the Mohocks. His Fancy for a Pin-cushion. Picture in the
Lid of his Snuff-box. Old Lady Faddle promises me her Woman to cut
my Hair. Lost five Guineas at Crimp. |
|
Twelve a-Clock at Night. |
Went to Bed. |
| Friday |
Eight in the Morning. |
Abed. Read over all Mr. Froth's
Letters. Cupid and Veny. |
|
Ten a-Clock. |
Stay'd within all day, not at home. |
|
From Ten to Twelve. |
In Conference with my Mantua-Maker. Sorted a
Suit of Ribbands. Broke my Blue China Cup. |
|
From Twelve to One. |
Shut my self up in my Chamber, practised Lady
Betty Modely's Skuttle. |
|
One in the Afternoon. |
Called for my flowered Handkerchief. Worked
half a Violet-Leaf in it. Eyes aked and Head out of Order. Threw by
my Work, and read over the remaining Part of Aurenzebe. |
|
From Three to Four. |
Dined. |
|
From Four to Twelve. |
Changed my Mind, dressed, went abroad, and
play'd at Crimp till Midnight. Found Mrs. Spitely at home.
Conversation: Mrs. Brilliant's Necklace false Stones. Old Lady
Loveday going to be married to a young Fellow that is not worth a
Groat. Miss Prue gone into the Country. Tom Townley has red Hair.
Mem. Mrs. Spitely whispered in my Ear that she had something to tell
me about Mr. Froth, I am sure it is not true. |
|
Between Twelve and One. |
Dreamed that Mr. Froth lay at my Feet, and
called me Indamora3. |
| Saturday |
|
Rose at Eight a-Clock in the Morning. Sate down to my
Toilet. |
|
From Eight to Nine. |
Shifted a Patch for Half an Hour before I could
determine it. Fixed it above my left Eye-brow. |
|
From Nine to Twelve. |
Drank my Tea, and dressed. |
|
From Twelve to Two. |
At Chappel. A great deal of good Company. Mem.
The third Air in the new Opera. Lady Blithe dressed frightfully. |
|
From Three to Four. |
Dined. Miss Kitty called upon me to go to the
Opera before I was risen from Table. |
|
From Dinner to Six. |
Drank Tea. Turned off a Footman for being rude
to Veny. |
|
Six a-Clock. |
Went to the Opera. I did not see Mr. Froth till the
beginning of the second Act. Mr. Froth talked to a Gentleman in a
black Wig. Bowed to a Lady in the front Box. Mr. Froth and his
Friend clapp'd Nicolini in the third Act. Mr. Froth cried out
Ancora. Mr. Froth led me to my Chair. I think he squeezed my Hand. |
|
Eleven at Night. |
Went to Bed. Melancholy Dreams. Methought Nicolini
said he was Mr. Froth. |
| Sunday |
|
Indisposed. |
| Monday |
Eight a-Clock. |
Waked by Miss Kitty. Aurenzebe lay upon the
Chair by me. Kitty repeated without Book the Eight best Lines in the
Play. Went in our Mobbs to the dumb Man4, according to
Appointment. Told me that my Lover's Name began with a G. Mem. The
Conjurer was within a Letter of Mr. Froth's Name, &c. |
Upon looking back into this my Journal, I find that I am at a loss to
know whether I pass my Time well or ill; and indeed never thought of
considering how I did it before I perused your Speculation upon that
Subject. I scarce find a single Action in these five Days that I can
thoroughly approve of, except the working upon the Violet-Leaf, which
I am resolved to finish the first Day I am at leisure. As for Mr.
Froth and Veny I did not think they took up so much of my Time and
Thoughts, as I find they do upon my Journal. The latter of them I will
turn off, if you insist upon it; and if Mr. Froth does not bring
Matters to a Conclusion very suddenly, I will not let my Life run away
in a Dream.
Your humble Servant,
Clarinda.
To resume one of the Morals of my first Paper, and to confirm Clarinda
in her good Inclinations, I would have her consider what a pretty Figure
she would make among Posterity, were the History of her whole Life
published like these five Days of it. I
conclude my Paper with an
Epitaph written by an uncertain Author
on Sir Philip Sidney's Sister, a
Lady who seems to have been of a Temper very much different from that of
Clarinda. The last Thought of it is so very noble, that I dare say my
Reader will pardon me the Quotation.
On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke.
Underneath this Marble Hearse
Lies the Subject of all Verse,
Sidney's Sister, Pembroke's Mother:
Death, ere thou hast kil'd another,
Fair, and learn'd, and good as she,
Time shall throw a Dart at thee.
A quotation from memory of Virgil's 'Et juvenis quondam
nunc fœmina.'
Æn
. vi. 448.
Dryden's.
The heroine of
Aurengzebe
.
Duncan Campbell, said to be deaf and dumb, and to tell
fortunes by second sight. In 1732 there appeared 'Secret Memoirs of the
late Mr. D. Campbell.... written by himself... with an Appendix by way
of 'vindicating Mr. C. against the groundless aspersion cast upon him,
that he but pretended to be deaf and dumb.'
Ben Jonson.
Contents
|
Wednesday, March 12, 1712 |
Steele |
O curvæ in terris animæ, et cœlestium inanes.
Pers.
1translation
Mr.
Spectator,
The Materials you have collected together towards a general History
of Clubs, make so bright a Part of your Speculations, that I think it
is but a Justice we all owe the learned World to furnish you with such
Assistances as may promote that useful Work. For this Reason I could
not forbear communicating to you some imperfect Informations of a Set
of Men (if you will allow them a place in that Species of Being) who
have lately erected themselves into a Nocturnal Fraternity, under the
Title of the
Mohock Club, a Name borrowed it seems from a sort of
Cannibals in India, who subsist by plundering and devouring all the
Nations about them. The President is styled Emperor of the Mohocks;
and his Arms are a Turkish Crescent, which his Imperial Majesty bears
at present in a very extraordinary manner engraven upon his Forehead.
Agreeable to their Name, the avowed design of their Institution is
Mischief; and upon this Foundation all their Rules and Orders are
framed. An outrageous Ambition of doing all possible hurt to their
Fellow-Creatures, is the great Cement of their Assembly, and the only
Qualification required in the Members. In order to exert this
Principle in its full Strength and Perfection, they take care to drink
themselves to a pitch, that is, beyond the Possibility of attending to
any Motions of Reason and Humanity; then make a general Sally, and
attack all that are so unfortunate as to walk the Streets through
which they patrole. Some are knock'd down, others stabb'd, others cut
and carbonado'd. To put the Watch to a total Rout, and mortify some of
those inoffensive Militia, is reckon'd a
Coup d'éclat. The particular
Talents by which these Misanthropes are distinguished from one
another, consist in the various kinds of Barbarities which they
execute upon their Prisoners. Some are celebrated for a happy
Dexterity in tipping the Lion upon them; which is performed by
squeezing the Nose flat to the Face, and boring out the Eyes with
their Fingers: Others are called the Dancing-Masters, and teach their
Scholars to cut Capers by running Swords thro' their Legs; a new
Invention, whether originally French I cannot tell: A third sort are
the Tumblers, whose office it is to set Women on their Heads, and
commit certain Indecencies, or rather Barbarities, on the Limbs which
they expose. But these I forbear to mention, because they can't but be
very shocking to the Reader as well as the
Spectator. In
this manner
they carry on a War against Mankind; and by the standing Maxims of
their Policy, are to enter into no Alliances but one, and that is
Offensive and Defensive with all Bawdy-Houses in general, of which
they have declared themselves Protectors and Guarantees
2.
'I must own, Sir, these are only broken incoherent Memoirs of this
wonderful Society, but they are the best I have been yet able to
procure; for being but of late Establishment, it is not ripe for a
just History; And to be serious, the chief Design of this Trouble is
to hinder it from ever being so. You have been pleas'd, out of a
concern for the good of your Countrymen, to act under the Character of
Spectator, not only the Part of a Looker-on, but an Overseer of their
Actions; and whenever such Enormities as this infest the Town, we
immediately fly to you for Redress. I have reason to believe, that
some thoughtless Youngsters, out of a false Notion of Bravery, and an
immoderate Fondness to be distinguished for Fellows of Fire, are
insensibly hurry'd into this senseless scandalous Project: Such will
probably stand corrected by your Reproofs, especially if you inform
them, that it is not Courage for half a score Fellows, mad with Wine
and Lust, to set upon two or three soberer than themselves; and that
the Manners of Indian Savages are no becoming Accomplishments to an
English fine Gentleman. Such of them as have been Bullies and Scowrers
of a long standing, and are grown Veterans in this kind of Service,
are, I fear, too hardned to receive any Impressions from your
Admonitions. But I beg you would recommend to their Perusal your [Volume 1 link:
ninth]
Speculation: They may there be taught to take warning from the Club of
Duellists; and be put in mind, that the common Fate of those Men of
Honour was to be hang'd.
I am,
Sir,
Your most humble Servant,
Philanthropos
March the 10th, 1711-12.
The following Letter is of a quite contrary nature; but I add it here,
that the Reader may observe at the same View, how amiable Ignorance may
be when it is shewn in its Simplicities, and how detestable in
Barbarities. It is written by an honest Countryman to his Mistress, and
came to the Hands of a Lady of good Sense wrapped about a Thread-Paper,
who has long kept it by her as an Image of artless Love.
To her I very much respect, Mrs. Margaret Clark.
'Lovely, and oh that I could write loving Mrs. Margaret Clark, I pray
you let Affection excuse Presumption. Having been so happy as to enjoy
the Sight of your sweet Countenance and comely Body, sometimes when I
had occasion to buy Treacle or Liquorish Powder at the Apothecary's
Shop, I am so enamoured with you, that I can no more keep close my
flaming Desire to become your Servant. And I am the more bold now to
write to your sweet self, because I am now my own Man, and may match
where I please; for my Father is taken away, and now I am come to my
Living, which is Ten Yard Land, and a House; and there is never a Yard
of Land in our Field but it is as well worth ten Pound a Year, as a
Thief is worth a Halter; and all my Brothers and Sisters are provided
for: Besides I have good Houshold-stuff, though I say it, both Brass
and Pewter, Linnens and Woollens; and though my House be thatched,
yet, if you and I match, it shall go hard but I will have one half of
it slated. If you think well of this Motion, I will wait upon you as
soon as my new Cloaths is made and Hay Harvest is in. I could, 'though
I say it, have good—'
rest is torn off
; and Posterity must be contented to know, that
Mrs. Margaret Clark was very pretty, but are left in the dark as to the
Name of her Lover.
T.
'Sævis inter se convenit Ursis.'
Juv.
Gay tells also in his Trivia that the Mohocks rolled women
in hogs-heads down Snow hill. Swift wrote of the Mohocks, at this time,
in his Journal to Stella,
'Grub-street papers about them fly like lightning, and a list printed
of near eighty put into several prisons, and all a lie, and I begin to
think there is no truth, or very little, in the whole story.'
On the 18th of March an attempt was made to put the Mohocks down by
Royal Proclamation.
This letter is said to have been really sent to one who
married Mr. Cole, a Northampton attorney, by a neighbouring freeholder
named Gabriel Bullock, and shown to Steele by his friend the antiquary,
Browne Willis. See also
.
Contents
|
Thursday, March 13, 1712 |
Budgell |
Quid frustra Simulacra fugacia captas?
Quod petis, est nusquam: quod amas avertere, perdes.
Ista repercussæ quam cernis imaginis umbra est,
Nil habet ista sui; tecum venitque, manetque,
Tecum discedet si tu discedere possis.
Ovid.
translation
Will. Honeycomb
diverted us last Night with an Account of a young
Fellow's first discovering his Passion to his Mistress. The young Lady
was one, it seems, who had long before conceived a favourable Opinion of
him, and was still in hopes that he would some time or other make his
Advances. As he was one day talking with her in Company of her two
Sisters, the Conversation happening to turn upon Love, each of the young
Ladies was by way of Raillery, recommending a Wife to him; when, to the
no small Surprize of her who languished for him in secret, he told them
with a more than ordinary Seriousness, that his Heart had been long
engaged to one whose Name he thought himself obliged in Honour to
conceal; but that he could shew her Picture in the Lid of his Snuff-box.
The young Lady, who found herself the most sensibly touched by this
Confession, took the first Opportunity that offered of snatching his Box
out of his Hand. He seemed desirous of recovering it, but finding her
resolved to look into the Lid, begged her, that if she should happen to
know the Person, she would not reveal her Name. Upon carrying it to the
Window, she was very agreeably surprized to find there was nothing
within the Lid but a little Looking-Glass, in which, after she had
view'd her own Face with more Pleasure than she had ever done before,
she returned the Box with a Smile, telling him, she could not but admire
at his Choice.
Will
. fancying that his Story took, immediately fell into a Dissertation
on the Usefulness of Looking-Glasses, and applying himself to me, asked,
if there were any Looking Glasses in the Times of the Greeks and Romans;
for that he had often observed in the Translations of Poems out of those
Languages, that People generally talked of seeing themselves in Wells,
Fountains, Lakes, and Rivers: Nay, says he, I remember Mr.
Dryden
in his
Ovid
tells us of a swingeing Fellow, called
Polypheme
, that made use of
the Sea for his Looking-Glass, and could never dress himself to
Advantage but in a Calm.
My Friend
Will
, to shew us the whole Compass of his Learning upon this
Subject, further informed us, that there were still several Nations in
the World so very barbarous as not to have any Looking-Glasses among
them; and that he had lately read a Voyage to the South-Sea, in which it
is said, that the Ladies of Chili always dress their Heads over a Bason
of Water.
I am the more particular in my Account of
Will.'s
last Night's Lecture
on these natural Mirrors, as it seems to bear some Relation to the
following Letter, which I received the Day before.
Sir,
'I have read your last Saturday's Observations on the Fourth Book of
Milton with great Satisfaction, and am particularly pleased with the
hidden Moral, which you have taken notice of in several Parts of the
Poem. The Design of this Letter is to desire your Thoughts, whether
there may not also be some Moral couched under that Place in the same
Book where the Poet lets us know, that the first Woman immediately
after her Creation ran to a Looking-Glass, and became so enamoured of
her own Face, that she had never removed to view any of the other
Works of Nature, had not she been led off to a Man. If you think fit
to set down the whole Passage from Milton, your Readers will be able
to judge for themselves, and the Quotation will not a little
contribute to the filling up of your Paper.
Your humble Servant,
R. T.'
The last Consideration urged by my Querist is so strong, that I cannot
forbear closing with it. The Passage he alludes to, is part of
Eve's
Speech to
Adam
, and one of the most beautiful Passages in the whole Poem.
That Day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awaked, and found my self repos d
Under a shade of flow'rs, much wondering where
And what I was, whence thither brought, and how.
Not distant far from thence a murmuring Sound
Of Waters issu'd from a Cave, and spread
Into a liquid Plain, then stood unmoved
Pure as th' Expanse of Heav'n: I thither went
With unexperienced Thought, and laid me down
On the green Bank, to look into the clear
Smooth Lake, that to me seemed another Sky.
As I bent down to look, just opposite,
A Shape within the watry Gleam appeared
Bending to look on me; I started back,
It started back; but pleas'd I soon returned,
Pleas'd it return'd as soon with answering Looks
Of Sympathy and Love; there I had fix d
Mine Eyes till now, and pined with vain Desire,
Had not a Voice thus warn'd me, What thou seest,
What there thou seest, fair Creature, is thy self,
With thee it came and goes: but follow me,
And I will bring thee where no Shadow stays
Thy coming, and thy soft Embraces, he
Whose Image thou art, him thou shalt enjoy
Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear
Multitudes like thy self, and thence be call'd
Mother of Human Race. What could I do,
But follow streight, invisibly thus led?
Till I espy'd thee, fair indeed and tall,
Under a Platan, yet methought less fair,
Less winning soft, less amiably mild,
Than that smooth watry Image: back I turn'd,
Thou following cry'dst aloud, Return fair Eve,
Whom fly'st thou? whom thou fly'st, of him thou art,
His Flesh, his Bone; to give thee Being, I lent
Out of my Side to thee, nearest my Heart,
Substantial Life, to have thee by my side
Henceforth an individual Solace dear.
Part of my Soul I seek thee, and thee claim
My other half!—-With that thy gentle hand
Seized mine, I yielded, and from that time see
How Beauty is excell'd by manly Grace,
And Wisdom, which alone is truly fair.
So spake our general Mother,—