Part 14 (1/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_
QUae GENUS & THE MONEY-LENDERS.]
QUae GENUS, was brimful of zeal To seize each turn of Fortune's wheel, And eager to fulfil his plan Of rising to a gentleman: But though gold roll'd beneath his eye, Though fees were paid and bribes were high, His heart, which had not lost its feeling, Shrunk from the base, remorseless dealing, That gloating avarice employ'd O'er the rich ruins it enjoy'd.
While, therefore, some kind, gen'rous sense His heart felt of benevolence, And ere of honour quite bereft, He the rapacious LEVI left, In hope he might obtain a place He should not think as a disgrace; Nor of success had he to fear From VALCOUR'S written character; Where all his virtues were pourtray'd, In such a view that he was made In every domestic sense A paragon of excellence.
But sad to tell, it was not long Before temptations, more than strong, Were urg'd by a kind, zealous friend, Who us'd on bus'ness to attend Old LEVI'S Levees: He display'd In artful whisper, the sure trade, Which, manag'd as he could define, Would shortly prove a golden mine.
”Think not,” he said, ”that I am canting; Money, my friend, is all that's wanting.
A certain sum could I command, I soon would purchase house and land.
Ere a short time had onward run, I would strut forth a BUCK OF TON; The world, with its dull pride, defy, And jostle fools of quality.”
QUae GENUS felt his brooding plan To be a finish'd GENTLEMAN, At that same word his spirit started, And instantly he grew great hearted.
”Your scheme,” he said, ”at once explain: If gainful, you shall share the gain.”
”But hear me out,” it was replied, ”And then you will be satisfied.
Know, you must an a.s.sistant be At a club's gaming revelry.
O check, I pray, your staring eyes, From looking on me with surprise; Let not the scheme I offer freeze you, Hear, and then do as it may please you!
Think not I would your hand entice To deal the card or shake the dice; You must employ a knowing friend, And such a one I can commend; He's wary, and suspicion guards, By shrewdly managing his cards; Whate'er he does is done with ease, And heaps his gains by slow degrees, Till he has such a sum attain'd By which his object may be gain'd, Then one successful effort make, And seize a fortune in the stake.
He watches those who love to drink, And sticks to such as cannot think: He turns his skilful inclination To young men who are p.r.o.ne to pa.s.sion; He has cool words for those who're heated, Whose pride will not believe they're cheated; In short, he can a card entice, And fix good-fortune on the dice.
With him you may your money trust; He will be generous as he's just: Proceed at once on manly ground And trust him with five hundred pound; With that, my friend, let him alone, He'll use it as it were his own.”
QUae GENUS enter'd on his place And acted with becoming grace; But with his keen, suspicious eye He saw what look'd like treachery, Which wak'd the fancy to be thrifty, So, of his pounds he gave but fifty.
--On his official duties bound, He pac'd the hubbub-table round, And with attentive leering kenn'd His trusty, confidential friend, Whose frequent nods and silent grinning Full plainly told, he had been winning; But, when QUae GENUS ask'd th' amount, His friend thus settled the account.
”It does my very heart-strings grieve That you have nothing to receive: Two hours ago my luck was crost, And then your fifty pounds were lost; For when with your advance I play'd Fortune became an arrant jade: Though since 'tis true that I have won, But then the risk was all my own; And, if you had but ventur'd more, Your purse might now be running o'er.
With a round sum to-morrow night, Fortune may set all matters right: As 'tis in war, so 'tis with gold, She fails not to protect the bold.”
Our Hero was not such a _Flat_ As to sit down content with that: He first determin'd to resist Or with a cudgel or a fist: But on reflection, felt an awe Of the grim, prosecuting law: Besides, had he enrag'd the room, It might have prov'd his final doom: Still he for vengeance inly cried And he was shortly satisfied.
--The _Bow-street_ folk he happ'd to know Were walking that way to and fro, And when more closely on the watch, He mov'd the door's unwilling latch, The myrmidons rush'd rudely in, And all above was noise and din.
Candles and lamps were all put out, When it became a mingled rout, While for the money on the table Each grasp'd as much as he was able; And our QUae GENUS had engross'd More than by _Humbug_ he had lost; Then nimbly made a safe retreat To lodgings in no distant street.
Here, for some time he pac'd the room, To dissipate th' oppressive gloom That did upon his spirits light From the proceedings of the night.
”Indeed,” he said, ”what then was done I do not wish to look upon, Nay I would from my mem'ry cast My curious ways for some time past, But certain, busy reasons tell Such effort is impossible.
All therefore, that I now can do Is the forthcoming time to woo With those endearments which may prove QUae GENUS worthy of its love: With that just sense of what is right, That makes the moral lamp burn bright.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Drawn by Rowlandson_
QUae GENUS OFFICIATING AT A GAMING HOUSE.]
Such pensive musings on him wrought Till he his welcome pillow sought, When, as absorb'd in sleep he lay, Fancy did on his spirits play, And in a strange and fearful dream A form did on his vision beam, With ghastly look as it were come From the pale confines of the tomb.
He seem'd with one uplifted hand Instant attention to command, The other, as he solemn stood, Folded around the flowing shroud; And thus QUae GENUS seem'd to hear The hollow voice that pierc'd his ear.
”I am thy foster-parent's shade, } Who, in the earth, has long been laid, } And let his counsels be obey'd. } 'Tis SYNTAX who before thee stands, And wait with awe his grave commands.
Fool as thou art, in thy misdoing Art thou not hast'ning to thy ruin?
Am I call'd hither to accuse Thy erring ways, and idle views?
Do I the wretched agent see Of gambling fraud and usury?
And is it thus you form the plan To vault into a Gentleman?
SYNTAX thy memory must own As the sole parent thou hast known, Whose mercy did the Foundling save From menace of an infant's grave.
Better, perhaps, his fond regard Had not thy sad condition spar'd, If what of future life may last, Wakes no contrition for the past.
Hear me, and tremble as I speak, Though you may human laws escape; The life you lead is not forgiven By the offended laws of Heaven.
If such your doings, I can ne'er Pet.i.tion for your pardon there.
The present means which you possess, If rightly us'd, will give success; Nay, if you cease to roam abroad, And turn from folly's wand'ring road; If you keep all things right at home, Much unexpected good may come.
QUae GENUS, to my words attend, The errors of your life amend; Resist the world's seducing power, Or fear me at the midnight hour.”
--Thus as he thought the vision spake, The curtains round him seem'd to shake; And frowning, as in angry mood, At the bed's foot the figure stood, When, in a misty gleam of light, It seem'd to vanish from his sight.
He woke in such an agitation His night-cap stream'd with perspiration; He started with a fearful stare, Not knowing if to pray or swear.