<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395905" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tale XVIII</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE WAGER.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Counter and Clubb were men in trade, whose pains,<br>Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains;<br>Partners and punctual, every friend agreed<br>Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed.<br>When they had fix'd some little time in life,<br>Each thought of taking to himself a wife:<br>As men in trade alike, as men in love,<br>They seem'd with no according views to move;<br>As certain ores in outward view the same,<br>They show'd their difference when the magnet came.<br>Counter was vain: with spirit strong and high,<br>'Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh:<br>'His wife might o'er his men and maids preside,<br>And in her province be a judge and guide;<br>But what he thought, or did, or wish'd to do,<br>She must not know, or censure if she knew;<br>At home, abroad, by day, by night, if he<br>On aught determined, so it was to be:<br>How is a man,' he ask'd, 'for business fit,<br>Who to a female can his will submit?<br>Absent a while, let no inquiring eye<br>Or plainer speech presume to question why:<br>But all be silent; and, when seen again,<br>Let all be cheerful--shall a wife complain?<br>Friends I invite, and who shall dare t'object,<br>Or look on them with coolness or neglect?<br>No! I must ever of my house be head,<br>And, thus obey'd, I condescend to wed.'<br>Clubb heard the speech--'My friend is nice, said </div><div style="margin:10px 0">he;<br>A wife with less respect will do for me:<br>How is he certain such a prize to gain?<br>What he approves, a lass may learn to feign,<br>And so affect t'obey till she begins to reign;<br>A while complying, she may vary then,<br>And be as wives of more unwary men;<br>Beside, to him who plays such lordly part,<br>How shall a tender creature yield her heart;<br>Should he the promised confidence refuse,<br>She may another more confiding choose;<br>May show her anger, yet her purpose hide,<br>And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride.<br>In one so humbled, who can trace the friend?<br>I on an equal, not a slave, depend;<br>If true, my confidence is wisely placed,<br>And being false, she only is disgraced.'<br>Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye around;<br>And one so easy soon a partner found.<br>The lady chosen was of good repute;<br>Meekness she had not, and was seldom mute;<br>Though quick to anger, still she loved to smile,<br>And would be calm if men would wait a while:<br>She knew her duty, and she loved her way,<br>More pleased in truth to govern than obey;<br>She heard her priest with reverence, and her spouse<br>As one who felt the pressure of her vows;<br>Useful and civil, all her friends confess'd -<br>Give her her way, and she would choose the best;<br>Though some indeed a sly remark would make -<br>Give it her not, and she would choose to take.<br>All this, when Clubb some cheerful months had </div><div style="margin:10px 0">spent,<br>He saw, confess'd, and said he was content.<br>Counter meantime selected, doubted, weigh'd,<br>And then brought home a young complying maid;<br>A tender creature, full of fears as charms,<br>A beauteous nursling from its mother's arms;<br>A soft, sweet blossom, such as men must love,<br>But to preserve must keep it in the stove:<br>She had a mild, subdued, expiring look -<br>Raise but the voice, and this fair creature shook;<br>Leave her alone, she felt a thousand fears -<br>Chide, and she melted into floods of tears;<br>Fondly she pleaded, and would gently sigh,<br>For very pity, or she knew not why;<br>One whom to govern none could be afraid -<br>Hold up the finger, this meek thing obey'd;<br>Her happy husband had the easiest task -<br>Say but his will, no question would she ask;<br>She sought no reasons, no affairs she knew,<br>Of business spoke not, and had nought to do.<br>Oft he exclaim'd, 'How meek! how mild! how kind!<br>With her 'twere cruel but to seem unkind;<br>Though ever silent when I take my leave,<br>It pains my heart to think how hers will grieve;<br>'Tis heaven on earth with such a wife to dwell,<br>I am in raptures to have sped so well;<br>But let me not, my friend, your envy raise,<br>No! on my life, your patience has my praise.'<br>His Friend, though silent, felt the scorn </div><div style="margin:10px 0">implied -<br>'What need of patience?' to himself he cried:<br>'Better a woman o'er her house to rule,<br>Than a poor child just hurried from her school;<br>Who has no care, yet never lives at ease;<br>Unfit to rule, and indisposed to please.<br>What if he govern, there his boast should end;<br>No husband's power can make a slave his friend.'<br>It was the custom of these Friends to meet<br>With a few neighbours in a neighbouring street;<br>Where Counter ofttimes would occasion seize<br>To move his silent Friend by words like these:<br>'A man,' said he, 'if govern'd by his wife,<br>Gives up his rank and dignity in life;<br>Now, better fate befalls my Friend and me.' -<br>He spoke, and look'd th' approving smile to see.<br>The quiet partner, when he chose to speak,<br>Desired his friend 'another theme to seek;<br>When thus they met, he judged that state-affairs<br>And such important subjects should be theirs:'<br>But still the partner, in his lighter vein,<br>Would cause in Clubb affliction or disdain;<br>It made him anxious to detect the cause<br>Of all that boasting: --'Wants my friend applause?<br>This plainly proves him not at perfect ease,<br>For, felt he pleasure, he would wish to please.<br>These triumphs here for some regrets atone -<br>Men who are bless'd let other men alone.'<br>Thus made suspicious, he observed and saw<br>His friend each night at early hour withdraw;<br>He sometimes mention'd Juliet's tender nerves,<br>And what attention such a wife deserves:<br>'In this,' thought Clubb, 'full sure some mystery </div><div style="margin:10px 0">lies -<br>He laughs at me, yet he with much complies,<br>And all his vaunts of bliss are proud apologies.'<br>With such ideas treasured in his breast,<br>He grew composed, and let his anger rest;<br>Till Counter once (when wine so long went round,<br>That friendship and discretion both were drown'd)<br>Began, in teasing and triumphant mood,<br>His evening banter: --'Of all earthly good,<br>The best,' he said, 'was an obedient spouse,<br>Such as my friend's--that every one allows:<br>What if she wishes his designs to know?<br>It is because she would her praise bestow;<br>What if she wills that he remain at home?<br>She knows that mischief may from travel come.<br>I, who am free to venture where I please,<br>Have no such kind preventing checks as these;<br>But mine is double duty, first to guide<br>Myself aright, then rule a house beside;<br>While this our friend, more happy than the free,<br>Resigns all power, and laughs at liberty.'<br>'By heaven!' said Clubb, 'excuse me if I swear,<br>I'll bet a hundred guineas, if he dare,<br>That uncontroll'd I will such freedoms take<br>That he will fear to equal--there's my stake.'<br>'A match!' said Counter, much by wine inflamed;<br>'But we are friends--let smaller stake be named:<br>Wine for our future meeting, that will I<br>Take and no more--what peril shall we try?'<br>'Let's to Newmarket,' Clubb replied; 'or choose<br>Yourself the place, and what you like to lose:<br>And he who first returns, or fears to go,<br>Forfeits his cash.'--Said Counter, 'Be it so.'<br>The friends around them saw with much delight<br>The social war, and hail'd the pleasant night;<br>Nor would they further hear the cause discuss'd,<br>Afraid the recreant heart of Clubb to trust.<br>Now sober thoughts return'd as each withdrew,<br>And of the subject took a serious view:<br>''Twas wrong,' thought Counter, 'and will grieve my </div><div style="margin:10px 0">love;'<br>''Twas wrong,' thought Clubb, 'my wife will not </div><div style="margin:10px 0">approve:<br>But friends were present; I must try the thing,<br>Or with my folly half the town will ring.'<br>He sought his lady--'Madam, I'm to blame,<br>But was reproach'd, and could not bear the shame;<br>Here in my folly--for 'tis best to say<br>The very truth--I've sworn to have my way;<br>To that Newmarket--(though I hate the place,<br>And have no taste or talents for a race,<br>Yet so it is--well, now prepare to chide) -<br>I laid a wager that I dared to ride:<br>And I must go: by heaven, if you resist<br>I shall be scorn'd, and ridiculed, and hiss'd;<br>Let me with grace before my friends appear,<br>You know the truth, and must not be severe:<br>He too must go, but that he will of course:<br>Do you consent?--I never think of force.'<br>'You never need,' the worthy Dame replied;<br>'The husband's honour is the woman's pride:<br>If I in trifles be the wilful wife,<br>Still for your credit I would lose my life.<br>Go! and when fix'd the day of your return,<br>Stay longer yet, and let the blockheads learn<br>That though a wife may sometimes wish to rule,<br>She would not make th' indulgent man a fool;<br>I would at times advise--but idle they<br>Who think th' assenting husband must obey.'<br>The happy man, who thought his lady right<br>In other cases, was assured to-night;<br>Then for the day with proud delight prepared,<br>To show his doubting friends how much he dared.<br>Counter--who grieving sought his bed, his rest<br>Broken by pictures of his love distress'd -<br>With soft and winning speech the fair prepared:<br>'She all his councils, comforts, pleasures shared:<br>She was assured he loved her from his soul,<br>She never knew and need not fear control;<br>But so it happen'd--he was grieved at heart<br>It happen'd so, that they awhile must part<br>A little time--the distance was but short,<br>And business called him--he despised the sport;<br>But to Newmarket he engaged to ride<br>With his friend Clubb:' and there he stopp'd and </div><div style="margin:10px 0">sigh'd.<br>Awhile the tender creature look'd dismay'd,<br>Then floods of tears the call of grief obeyed: -<br>'She an objection! No!' she sobb'd, 'not one:<br>Her work was finish'd, and her race was run;<br>For die she must--indeed she would not live<br>A week alone, for all the world could give;<br>He too must die in that same wicked place;<br>It always happen'd--was a common case;<br>Among those horrid horses, jockeys, crowds,<br>'Twas certain death--they might bespeak their </div><div style="margin:10px 0">shrouds.<br>He would attempt a race, be sure to fall -<br>And she expire with terror--that was all;<br>With love like hers she was indeed unfit<br>To bear such horrors, but she must submit.'<br>'But for three days, my love! three days at most,'<br>'Enough for me; I then shall be a ghost.'<br>'My honour's pledged!'--'Oh! yes, my dearest life,<br>I know your honour must outweigh your wife;<br>But ere this absence have you sought a friend?<br>I shall be dead--on whom can you depend?<br>Let me one favour of your kindness crave,<br>Grant me the stone I mention'd for my grave.'<br>'Nay, love, attend--why, bless my soul! I say<br>I will return--there, weep no longer, nay!'<br>'Well! I obey, and to the last am true,<br>But spirits fail me; I must die; adieu!'<br>'What, Madam! must?--'tis wrong--I'm angry--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">zounds<br>Can I remain and lose a thousand pounds?'<br>'Go then, my love! it is a monstrous sum,<br>Worth twenty wives--go, love! and I am dumb;<br>Nor be displeased--had I the power to live,<br>You might be angry, now you must forgive:<br>Alas! I faint--ah! cruel--there's no need<br>Of wounds or fevers--this has done the deed.'<br>The lady fainted, and the husband sent<br>For every aid--for every comfort went;<br>Strong terror seized him: 'Oh! she loved so well,<br>And who th' effect of tenderness could tell?'<br>She now recover'd, and again began<br>With accent querulous--'Ah! cruel man!'<br>Till the sad husband, conscience-struck, confess'd,<br>'Twas very wicked with his friend to jest;<br>For now he saw that those who were obey'd,<br>Could like the most subservient feel afraid:<br>And though a wife might not dispute the will<br>Of her liege lord, she could prevent it still.<br>The morning came, and Clubb prepared to ride<br>With a smart boy, his servant, and his guide;<br>When, ere he mounted on his ready steed,<br>Arrived a letter, and he stopped to read.<br>'My friend,' he read, 'our journey I decline,<br>A heart too tender for such strife is mine;<br>Yours is the triumph, be you so inclined;<br>But you are too considerate and kind:<br>In tender pity to my Juliet's fears<br>I thus relent, o'ercome by love and tears;<br>She knows your kindness; I have heard her say,<br>A man like you 'tis pleasure to obey:<br>Each faithful wife, like ours, must disapprove<br>Such dangerous trifling with connubial love;<br>What has the idle world, my friend, to do<br>With our affairs? they envy me and you:<br>What if I could my gentle spouse command -<br>Is that a cause I should her tears withstand?<br>And what if you, a friend of peace, submit<br>To one you love--is that a theme for wit?<br>'Twas wrong, and I shall henceforth judge it weak<br>Both of submission and control to speak:<br>Be it agreed that all contention cease,<br>And no such follies vex our future peace;<br>Let each keep guard against domestic strife,<br>And find nor slave nor tyrant in his wife.'<br>'Agreed,' said Clubb, 'with all my soul agreed;' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">-<br>And to the boy, delighted, gave his steed.<br>'I think my friend has well his mind express'd,<br>And I assent; such things are not a jest.'<br>'True,' said the Wife, 'no longer he can hide<br>The truth that pains him by his wounded pride:<br>Your friend has found it not an easy thing,<br>Beneath his yoke this yielding soul to bring:<br>These weeping willows, though they seem inclined<br>By every breeze, yet not the strongest wind<br>Can from their bent divert this weak but stubborn </div><div style="margin:10px 0">kind;<br>Drooping they seek your pity to excite,<br>But 'tis at once their nature and delight;<br>Such women feel not; while they sigh and weep,<br>'Tis but their habit--their affections sleep;<br>They are like ice that in the hand we hold,<br>So very melting, yet so very cold;<br>On such affection let not man rely,<br>The husbands suffer, and the ladies sigh:<br>But your friend's offer let us kindly take,<br>And spare his pride for his vexation's sake;<br>For he has found, and through his life will find,<br>'Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind -<br>More just when it resists, and, when it yields, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">more kind.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Crabbe">George Crabbe</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395905" data-title="Tale XVIII de George Crabbe" data-description="THE WAGER. Counter and Clubb were men in trade, whose pains, Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains; Partners and punctual, every friend agreed Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed. When they had fix'd some little time in life, ..."></div> </div> </div>

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