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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457146" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hans Carvel</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hans Carvel, impotent and old,<br>Married a lass of London mould.<br>Handsome? Enough; extremely gay;<br>Loved music, company, and play:<br>High flights she had, and wit at will,<br>And so her tongue lay seldom still;<br>For in all visits who but she <br>To argue or to repartee?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She made it plain that human passion<br>Was order'd by predestination;<br>That if weak women went astray,<br>Their stars were more in fault than they.<br>Whole tragedies she had by heart;<br>Enter'd into Roxana's part;<br>To triumph in her rival's blood<br>The action certainly was good.<br>How like a vine young Ammon curl'd!<br>Oh that dear conqueror of the world!<br>She pity'd Betterton in age<br>That ridiculed the godlike rage.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She, first of all the town, was told<br>Where newest India things were sold;<br>So in a morning, without bodice,<br>Slipt sometimes out to Mrs. Thody's<br>To cheapen tea, to buy a screen;<br>What else could so much virtue mean?<br>For to prevent the least reproach<br>Betty went with her in the coach.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when no very great affair<br>Excited her peculiar care,<br>She without fail was waked at ten,<br>Drank chocolate, then slept again:<br>At twelve she rose; with much ado<br>Her clothes were huddled on by two:<br>Then, does my lady dine at home?<br>Yes, sure; - but is the colonel come?<br>Next, how to spend the afternoon,<br>And not come home again too soon,<br>The change, the city, or the play,<br>As each was proper for the day;<br>A turn in summer to Hyde-park,<br>When it grew tolerably dark.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wife's pleasure causes husband's pain;<br>Strange fancies come in Hans's brain:<br>He thought of what he did not name,<br>And would reform but durst not name,<br>At first he therefore preach'd his wife<br>The comforts of a pious life;<br>Told her how transient beauty was;<br>That all must die, and flesh was grass:<br>He bought her sermons, psalms, and graces,<br>And doubled down the useful places:<br>But still the weight of worldly care<br>Allow'd her little time for prayer;<br>And Cleopatra was read o'er,<br>While Scot, and Wake, and twenty more,<br>That teach one to deny one's self,<br>Stood unmolested on the shelf.<br>An untouch'd bible graced her toilette;<br>No fear that thumb of hers should spoil it,<br>In short, the trade was still the same;<br>The dame went out, the colonel came.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What's to be done? poor Carvel cried;<br>Another battery must be tried:<br>What if to spells I had recourse?<br>'Tis but to hinder something worse.<br>The end must justify the means;<br>He only sins who ill intends:<br>Since therefore 'tis to combat evil<br>'Tis lawful to employ the devil.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Forthwith the devil did appear,<br>(For name him and he's always near)<br>Not in the shape in which he plies<br>At miss's elbow when she lies,<br>Or stands before the nursery doors<br>To take the naughty boy that roars,<br>But without tail, or eye, or claw,<br>Like a grave barrister at law.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hans Carvel, lay aside your grief,<br>The devil says; I bring relief.<br>Relief! says Hans; pray let me crave<br>Your name Sir - Satan - Sir, your slave.<br>I did not look upon your feet;<br>You'll pardon me, - Ay, now I see't.<br>And pray, Sir, when came you from hell?<br>Our friends there, did you leave them well?<br>All well; but, pr'ythee, honest Hans<br>(Says Satan) leave your complaisance:<br>The truth is this; I cannot stay<br>Flaring in sunshine all the day,<br>For, entre nous, we hellish sprites<br>Love more the fresco of the nights;<br>And oftener our receipts convey<br>In dreams than any other way,<br>I tell you, therefore, as a friend,<br>Ere morning dawns your fears shall end:<br>Go then this evening, Master Carvel,<br>Lay down your fowls, and broach your barrel; <br>Let friends and wine dissolve your care<br>Whilst I the great receipt prepare ---<br>To-night I'll bring it by my faith:<br>Believe for once what Satan saith.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Away went Hans; glad not a little;<br>Obey'd the devil to a tittle;<br>Invited friends some half a dozen,<br>The colonel and my lady's cousin.<br>The meat was served, the bowls were crown'd,<br>Catches were sung, and healths went round;<br>Barbadoes' waters for the close,<br>Till Hans had fairly got his dose;<br>The colonel toasted to the best;<br>The dame moved off to be undress'd;<br>The chimes went twelve, the guests withdrew<br>But when or how Hans hardly knew:<br>Some modern anecdotes aver<br>He nodded in his elbow chair,<br>From thence was carried off to bed;<br>John held his heels, and Nan his head;<br>My lady was disturb'd; new sorrow!<br>Which Hans must answer for to-morrow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In bed then view this happy pair,<br>And think how Hymen triumph'd there;<br>Hans fast asleep as soon as laid, <br>The duty of the night unpaid; <br>The waking dame with thoughts oppress'd<br>That made her hate both him and rest:<br>By such a husband, such a wife!<br>'Twas Acme's and Septimius' life:<br>The lady sigh'd, the lover snored,<br>The punctual devil kept his word;<br>Appear'd to Honest Hans again,<br>But not at all by Madam seen,<br>Fit for the finger of a king,<br>Dear Hans, said he, this jewel take,<br>And wear it long for Satan's sake;<br>'Twill do your business to a hair;<br>For long as you this ring shall wear,<br>As sure as I look over Lincoln<br>That ne'er shall happen which you think on.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hans took the ring with joy extreme,<br>(All this was only in a dream)<br>And thrusting it beyond his joint.--<br>'Tis done, he cried: I've gain'd my point. ---<br>What point, said she, you ugly beast?<br>You neither give me joy nor rest.<br>'Tis done - What's done, you drunken bear?<br>You've thrust your finger G-d knows where.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Matthew+Prior">Matthew Prior</a><div class=q>
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<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=457146" data-title="Hans Carvel de Matthew Prior" data-description="Hans Carvel, impotent and old,
Married a lass of London mould.
Handsome? Enough; extremely gay;
Loved music, company, and play:
High flights she had, and wit at will,
And so her tongue lay seldom still;
For in all visits who but she 
To argue or t..."></div>
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