The Tête a Tête
S IR CHARLES MODISH.
My dear! this morning we will take a ride;
And call on Lord Rupee, and Lady Pride.
L ADY MODISH.
With all my heart; and bring them home to dine:
I like the scheme, the weather is so fine.
Sir Charles! now read the news: pray who is dead?
And see if Lady Jane is brought to bed.
S IR CHARLES.
The last new Tragedy was well receiv'd;
And Harrison I see is clear repriev'd;
Good Captain Bluster has obtain'd a Flag;
I hope he will promote Lieutenant Brag!
Where is my Chocolate? the toast is cold.
Lord Squander's pictures are, I find, just sold.
L ADY MODISH.
Indeed I fear'd his fortune was derang'd;
Of late his countenance was vaslly chang'd;
Like a Barometer the face explains,
The fall and rise of our uncertain gains.
S IR CHARLES.
He was good natur'd, and a well-bred Man,
Yet seem'd surrounded with a dang'rous clan.
To-morrow I'm resolv'd to go to Town,
To settle that affair with Captain Brown.
L ADY MODISH.
And leave me quite alone in this dull place!
Whilst you are gone, to see no human face!
This dreary season, gaiety best suits;
'Tis hard to spend my time with rustic brutes.
S IR CHARLES.
No cause but bus'ness e'er could make me leave
Your Ladyship, whose absence I shall grieve;
But really our expences are so great,
To keep up the parade of useless state,
'Tis needful for to live a rural life,
Tho' with my inclination oft at strife.
My Steward plagues me with his loud complaint,
Enough to tire the patience of a saint,
With such a catalogue of human ills,
Repairs, Subscriptions, and long Tradesmen's Bills;
The Land-Tax is so high, the Stocks so low,
And for my credit, 'tis, alas!—so so!
Tho' hard my lot, I must avoid a worse,
And e'en consent to put m'Estate to nurse.
L ADY MODISH.
How cruel is my fate! how great the fall!
So large my fortune, yet my jointure small.
Then my precedence is, alas! so low,
That even Citizens before me go.
A Lady-May'ress, e'en as good as me,
Tho'her weak husband may retail Bohea.
S IR CHARLES:
Nay, pray my Lady! cease to be so loud;
Nor of your consequence be yet so proud;
The fortune which you boast, was basely won,
And by your Father's gains, Lord George undone.
Women of highest rank so thoughtless live,
They nought but sorrow, and vexation give;
In dissipated scenes, they spend their time,
Infants in sense, tho' oft in years past prime.
L ADY MODISH.
In vain, Sir Charles! you strive my heart to vex;
I will revere and vindicate my sex.
Deign but to ask, where Female grace is seen,
I thus reply, in our benignant Queen!
In her, the Mother, and the Wife, we find,
Blended with Majesty, and sense refin'd:
Blest with a Monarch's love, a Nation's praise,
Her worth transcendent, shall adorn my lays;
Not Faction's venom can her pow'r disown,
Or Slander tarnish her illustrious throne.
From Royal George, a bright example take,
As good an Husband, and a Father make,
And strive like him no ordinance to break.
S IR CHARLES.
Your Ladyship with wond'rous skill and might,
Brings strong conviction for to act aright:
Be thou what Charlotte is, and then my heart
Sure cannot fail to act a George's part.
L ADY MODISH.
Pray now, Sir Charles! explain your present view;
And for the Children what will you pursue?
S IR CHARLES.
As for the Girls I'll send them all to France,
Where they will learn to chatter French, and dance:
But if you like it better, or as well,
I'll have at home, a modern Mad'moiselle.
The Boys I mean to thrive by Trade or Law;
And bring them up with due respect and awe.
Charles, who I think is something like an Ass,
May do, perhaps, at Bombay or Madrass.
L ADY MODISH.
In Britain bred, in Britain freely born,
A foreign education hence I scorn.
Will foreign teachers, English minds expand,
And paint the beauties of our native land?
Will they not strive to alienate the Heart,
And gain new proselytes with labour'd art?
Will they not deem it heresy to teach
Minds that have fled from Superstition's reach?
Knowledge so gain'd, is purchas'd much too dear;
Such measures I oppose, with heart sincere.
The Boys, I trust, by industry will rise,
And all be happy, fortunate, or wise;
As for poor Charles, I can't endure the plan,
Tho' rich as Cræsus, or as Kouli Kan;
I hate a Nabob's great and ill got wealth,
Bought at th' expence of peace and precious health;
If they return with treasures vast of gold,
Conscience upbraids them, nor e'er quits her hold:
The poison'd Dagger, and the tainted Bowl,
Are ever present to the guilty soul:
Remember Harpax, thy unhappy friend;
How splendid was his life!—how sad his end!
S IR CHARLES.
You think too closely; weigh each point and grain;
Which ill accords with more substantial gain.
As for myself, a Patriot I will turn,
Yet for my private good with ardour burn;
Oppose the minister in all his views,
And make my fortune in the way I chuse.
L ADY MODISH.
Fictitious Patriots are a fix'd disgrace,
And found too oft but Statesmen out of place;
Like Reynard in the Fable, gasp for Pow'r,
And only yelp because the Grapes are sour.
For Liberty they roar like idle boys,
Which they misuse as Children do their toys.
Licentious Freedom is the gift they ask,
Which wears, sweet Liberty! thy pleasing mask.
S IR CHARLES.
But, list! I think I hear the Children's noise:
How I am plagued with chatt'ring Girls and Boys!
L ADY MODISH.
To you, I must confess their infant sounds,
Are not so pleasing as your Dice or Hounds.
Sir Charles, I wonder you dislike their talk,
Their op'ning reason you oppress and balk.
S IR CHARLES.
The Nursery's best suited to their plays,
I hate the fuss of all their childish ways;
At Meals especially I will be quiet,
And where they are, there is perpetual riot.
L ADY MODISH.
Alas! you hate the matrimonial life,
Domestic joys, and e'en your faithful Wife;
Your children are a burthen, and your home
A cheerless place, and melancholy dome.
S IR CHARLES.
I never will forego the joys of life,
To please a haughty or capricious Wife.
The man who lets a thoughtless woman rule;
Must needs be deem'd a most egregious fool.
My future prospects I resign to chance,
And for the present will retire to France:
The remedy you'll gain in legal course,
A sep'rate stipend, or a kind Divorce.
My dear! this morning we will take a ride;
And call on Lord Rupee, and Lady Pride.
L ADY MODISH.
With all my heart; and bring them home to dine:
I like the scheme, the weather is so fine.
Sir Charles! now read the news: pray who is dead?
And see if Lady Jane is brought to bed.
S IR CHARLES.
The last new Tragedy was well receiv'd;
And Harrison I see is clear repriev'd;
Good Captain Bluster has obtain'd a Flag;
I hope he will promote Lieutenant Brag!
Where is my Chocolate? the toast is cold.
Lord Squander's pictures are, I find, just sold.
L ADY MODISH.
Indeed I fear'd his fortune was derang'd;
Of late his countenance was vaslly chang'd;
Like a Barometer the face explains,
The fall and rise of our uncertain gains.
S IR CHARLES.
He was good natur'd, and a well-bred Man,
Yet seem'd surrounded with a dang'rous clan.
To-morrow I'm resolv'd to go to Town,
To settle that affair with Captain Brown.
L ADY MODISH.
And leave me quite alone in this dull place!
Whilst you are gone, to see no human face!
This dreary season, gaiety best suits;
'Tis hard to spend my time with rustic brutes.
S IR CHARLES.
No cause but bus'ness e'er could make me leave
Your Ladyship, whose absence I shall grieve;
But really our expences are so great,
To keep up the parade of useless state,
'Tis needful for to live a rural life,
Tho' with my inclination oft at strife.
My Steward plagues me with his loud complaint,
Enough to tire the patience of a saint,
With such a catalogue of human ills,
Repairs, Subscriptions, and long Tradesmen's Bills;
The Land-Tax is so high, the Stocks so low,
And for my credit, 'tis, alas!—so so!
Tho' hard my lot, I must avoid a worse,
And e'en consent to put m'Estate to nurse.
L ADY MODISH.
How cruel is my fate! how great the fall!
So large my fortune, yet my jointure small.
Then my precedence is, alas! so low,
That even Citizens before me go.
A Lady-May'ress, e'en as good as me,
Tho'her weak husband may retail Bohea.
S IR CHARLES:
Nay, pray my Lady! cease to be so loud;
Nor of your consequence be yet so proud;
The fortune which you boast, was basely won,
And by your Father's gains, Lord George undone.
Women of highest rank so thoughtless live,
They nought but sorrow, and vexation give;
In dissipated scenes, they spend their time,
Infants in sense, tho' oft in years past prime.
L ADY MODISH.
In vain, Sir Charles! you strive my heart to vex;
I will revere and vindicate my sex.
Deign but to ask, where Female grace is seen,
I thus reply, in our benignant Queen!
In her, the Mother, and the Wife, we find,
Blended with Majesty, and sense refin'd:
Blest with a Monarch's love, a Nation's praise,
Her worth transcendent, shall adorn my lays;
Not Faction's venom can her pow'r disown,
Or Slander tarnish her illustrious throne.
From Royal George, a bright example take,
As good an Husband, and a Father make,
And strive like him no ordinance to break.
S IR CHARLES.
Your Ladyship with wond'rous skill and might,
Brings strong conviction for to act aright:
Be thou what Charlotte is, and then my heart
Sure cannot fail to act a George's part.
L ADY MODISH.
Pray now, Sir Charles! explain your present view;
And for the Children what will you pursue?
S IR CHARLES.
As for the Girls I'll send them all to France,
Where they will learn to chatter French, and dance:
But if you like it better, or as well,
I'll have at home, a modern Mad'moiselle.
The Boys I mean to thrive by Trade or Law;
And bring them up with due respect and awe.
Charles, who I think is something like an Ass,
May do, perhaps, at Bombay or Madrass.
L ADY MODISH.
In Britain bred, in Britain freely born,
A foreign education hence I scorn.
Will foreign teachers, English minds expand,
And paint the beauties of our native land?
Will they not strive to alienate the Heart,
And gain new proselytes with labour'd art?
Will they not deem it heresy to teach
Minds that have fled from Superstition's reach?
Knowledge so gain'd, is purchas'd much too dear;
Such measures I oppose, with heart sincere.
The Boys, I trust, by industry will rise,
And all be happy, fortunate, or wise;
As for poor Charles, I can't endure the plan,
Tho' rich as Cræsus, or as Kouli Kan;
I hate a Nabob's great and ill got wealth,
Bought at th' expence of peace and precious health;
If they return with treasures vast of gold,
Conscience upbraids them, nor e'er quits her hold:
The poison'd Dagger, and the tainted Bowl,
Are ever present to the guilty soul:
Remember Harpax, thy unhappy friend;
How splendid was his life!—how sad his end!
S IR CHARLES.
You think too closely; weigh each point and grain;
Which ill accords with more substantial gain.
As for myself, a Patriot I will turn,
Yet for my private good with ardour burn;
Oppose the minister in all his views,
And make my fortune in the way I chuse.
L ADY MODISH.
Fictitious Patriots are a fix'd disgrace,
And found too oft but Statesmen out of place;
Like Reynard in the Fable, gasp for Pow'r,
And only yelp because the Grapes are sour.
For Liberty they roar like idle boys,
Which they misuse as Children do their toys.
Licentious Freedom is the gift they ask,
Which wears, sweet Liberty! thy pleasing mask.
S IR CHARLES.
But, list! I think I hear the Children's noise:
How I am plagued with chatt'ring Girls and Boys!
L ADY MODISH.
To you, I must confess their infant sounds,
Are not so pleasing as your Dice or Hounds.
Sir Charles, I wonder you dislike their talk,
Their op'ning reason you oppress and balk.
S IR CHARLES.
The Nursery's best suited to their plays,
I hate the fuss of all their childish ways;
At Meals especially I will be quiet,
And where they are, there is perpetual riot.
L ADY MODISH.
Alas! you hate the matrimonial life,
Domestic joys, and e'en your faithful Wife;
Your children are a burthen, and your home
A cheerless place, and melancholy dome.
S IR CHARLES.
I never will forego the joys of life,
To please a haughty or capricious Wife.
The man who lets a thoughtless woman rule;
Must needs be deem'd a most egregious fool.
My future prospects I resign to chance,
And for the present will retire to France:
The remedy you'll gain in legal course,
A sep'rate stipend, or a kind Divorce.
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