Part 29 (1/2)
”A ROMANCE BY M. G. LEWIS.
”A Doctor so grave and a virgin so bright, Hob-a-n.o.bbed in some right marasquin; They swallowed the cordial with truest delight, Giles Bolus the knave was just five feet in height, And four feet the brown Sally Green.
”'And as,' said Giles Bolus, 'to-morrow I go To physic a feverish land, At some sixpenny hop, or perhaps the mayor's show, You'll tumble in love with some smart city beau, And with him share your shop in the Strand.'
”'Lord! how can you think so?' Brown Sally Green said, 'You must know mighty little of me; For if you be living, or if you be dead, I swear, 'pon my honour, that none in your stead, Shall husband of Sally Green be.
”'And if e'er I by love or by wealth led aside Am false to Giles Bolus the knave; G.o.d grant that at dinner so amply suppli'd, Over-eating may give me a pain in the side, May your ghost then bring rhubarb to physic the bride, And send her well-dosed to the grave.'
”To Jamaica the doctor now hastened for gold, Sally wept till she blew her nose sore; Yet scarce had a twelvemonth elaps'd, when behold!
A brewer quite stylish his gig that way roll'd, And stopped it at Sally Green's door.
”His barrels, his bungs, and his bra.s.s-headed cane, Soon made her untrue to his vows; The stream of small beer now bewildered her brain; He caught her while tipsy--denials were vain-- So he carried her home as his spouse.
”And now the roast-beef had been blest by the priest, To cram now the guests had begun; Tooth and nail, like a wolf, fell the bride on the feast Nor yet had the clash of her knife and fork ceased, When a bell (t'was the dustman's) toll'd one.
”Then first, with amazement, brown Sally Green found, That a stranger was stuck by her side.
His cravat and his ruffles with snuff were embrown'd; He ate not--he drank not--but, turning him round, Sent some pudding away to be fried.
”His wig was turned forwards, and wort was his height, His ap.r.o.n was dirty to view; The women (oh! wondrous) were hushed at the sight, The cats as they eyed him drew back (well they might), For his body was pea-green and blue.
”Now, as all wish'd to speak, but none knew what to say, They look'd mighty foolish and queer: At length spoke the lady with trembling--'I pray, Dear sir, that your peruke aside you would lay, And partake of some strong or small beer.'
”The bride shuts her fly-trap--the stranger complies, And his wig from his phiz deigns to pull.
Adzooks! what a squall Sally gave through surprise!
Like a pig that was stuck, how she opened her eyes, When she recognized Giles's bare skull.
”Each miss then exclaimed, while she turn'd up her snout, 'Sir, your head isn't fit to be seen!'-- The pot-boys ran in, and the pot-boys ran out, And couldn't conceive what the noise was about, While the doctor addressed Sally Green.
”'Behold me, thou jilt-flirt! behold me!' he cri'd-- 'I'm Bolus, whom some call the 'knave!'
G.o.d grant, that to punish your falsehood and pride, You should feel at this moment a pain in your side.
Quick, swallow this rhubarb!--I'll physic the bride, And send her well-dosed to the grave!'
”Thus saying, the physic her throat he forced down, In spite of whate'er she could say: Then bore to his chariot the maiden so brown, Nor ever again was she seen in that town, Or the doctor who whisked her away.
”Not long lived the brewer, and none since that time To inhabit the brew-house presume; For old women say that by order sublime There Sally Green suffers the pain of her crime, And bawls to get out of the room.
”At midnight four times in each year does her sprite With shrieks make the chamber resound.
'I won't take the rhubarb!' she squalls in affright, While a cup in his left hand, a draught in his right, Giles Bolus pursues her around.
”With wigs so well powdered, twelve doctors so grave, Dancing hornpipes around them are seen; They drink chicken-broth, and this horrible stave Is tw.a.n.ged through each nose, 'To Giles Bolus the knave, And his patient the sick Sally Green.'”
In the court of love, Dr. Van Buch.e.l.l, the empiric, may pa.s.s muster as a physician. When that droll charlatan lost his first wife, in 1775, he paid her the compliment of preserving her body with great care. Dr.
Hunter, with the a.s.sistance of Mr. Cruikshank, injected the blood-vessels of the corpse with a carmine fluid, so that the cheeks and lips had the hue of healthy life; the cavities of the body were artistically packed with the antiseptics used by modern embalmers; and gla.s.s eyes were subst.i.tuted in place of the filmy b.a.l.l.s which Death had made his own. Decked in a dainty apparel of lace and finest linen, the body was then placed in a bed of thin paste of plaster of Paris, which, crystallizing, made a most ornamental couch. The case containing this fantastic horror had a gla.s.s lid, covered with a curtain; and as Van Buch.e.l.l kept it in his ordinary sitting-room, he had the pleasure of introducing his visitors to the lifeless form of his ”dear departed.” For several years the doctor lived very happily with this slough of an immortal soul--never quarrelling with it, never being scolded by it--on the whole, enjoying an amount of domestic tranquility that rarely falls to one man's lot. Unwisely he made in advanced years a new alliance, and manifested a desire to be on with the new and the old love at the same time. To this Mrs. Van Buch.e.l.l (No. 2) strongly objected, and insisted that the quaint coffin of Mrs.
Van Buch.e.l.l (No. 1) should be removed from the parlour in which she was expected to spend the greatest part of her days. The eccentric mode in which Buch.e.l.l displayed his affection for his first wife was scarcely less repulsive than the devotion to the interests of anatomical science which induced Rondeletius to dissect the dead body of his own child in his theatre at Montpelier.
Are there no more loves to be mentioned? Yes; let these concluding pages tell an interesting story of the last generation.