Part 55 (2/2)

In studious dishabille behold her sit, A lettered gossip and a household wit; At once invoking, though for different views, Her G.o.ds, her cook, her milliner and muse.

Round her strewed room a frippery chaos lies, A checkered wreck of notable and wise, Bills, books, caps, couplets, combs, a varied ma.s.s, Oppress the toilet and obscure the gla.s.s; Unfinished here an epigram is laid, And there a mantua-maker's bill unpaid.

There new-born plays foretaste the town's applause, There dormant patterns pine for future gauze.

A moral essay now is all her care, A satire next, and then a bill of fare.

A scene she now projects, and now a dish; Here Act the First, and here, Remove with Fish.

Now, while this eye in a fine frenzy rolls, That soberly casts up a bill for coals; Black pins and daggers in one leaf she sticks, And tears, and threads, and bowls, and thimbles mix.

_Richard Brinsley Sheridan._

TWELVE ARTICLES

I

Lest it may more quarrels breed, I will never hear you read.

II

By disputing, I will never, To convince you once endeavor.

III

When a paradox you stick to, I will never contradict you.

IV

When I talk and you are heedless, I will show no anger needless.

V

When your speeches are absurd, I will ne'er object a word.

VI

When you furious argue wrong, I will grieve and hold my tongue.

VII

Not a jest or humorous story Will I ever tell before ye: To be chidden for explaining, When you quite mistake the meaning.

VIII

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