"And, after all, to crown my spleen,
"Be told you are not to be feen.
"Or, if you are, be forc'd to bear
"The awe of your majestic air.
"And can I then be faulty found
"In dreading this vexatious round?
"Can it be strange, if I efchew
"A fcene fo glorious and fo new?
"Or is he criminal that flies
"The living luftre of your eyes ?"

I

By Dr. SHERIDAN.

Written in the Year 1731.

often try'd in vain to find

A fimile for woman-kind,

A fimile I mean to fit 'em,'

In every circumftance to hit 'em.

Through

Through every beaft and bird I went,
I ranfack'd ev'ry element,

And, after peeping through all nature
To find fo whimfical a creature,
A cloud presented to my view,
And ftrait this parallel I drew :

Clouds turn with ev'ry wind about,
They keep us in fufpence and doubt,
Yet oft perverfe, like woman-kind,
Are feen to fcud against the wind;
And are not women juft the fame ?
For, who can tell at what they aim?
Clouds keep the ftouteft mortals under,
When bellowing they discharge their
thunder;

So when th' alarum-bell is rung,
Of* Xanti's everlasting tongue,

• XANTI, a nick-name for, XANTIPPE, that fcold of glorious memory, who never let poor SOCRATES have one moment's peace of mind, yet with unexampled patience he bore her peftilential tongue. I fhall beg the ladies pardon, if I infert a few paffages concerning her; and at the fame time I affure them, it is not to leffen

The

The husband dreads its loudness more. Than light’ning's flash, or thunder's roar.

Clouds weep, as they do, without pain, And what are tears but womens rain?

The clouds about the welkin roam,
And ladies never ftay at home...

The clouds build caftles in the air,
A thing peculiar to the fair;
For all the fchemes of their forecasting
Are not more folid, nor more lafting.

him how he could bear the
gaggling of his geefe. Ay, but
my geefe lay eggs for me, re-
ply'd his friend. So doth my
wife bear children, faid So-
CRATES. Diog. Laert.

Being asked another time by a friend, how he could bear her tongue, he faid, he was of this ufe to him, that the taught him to bear the impertinences of others with more eafe when he went abroad.

Plut de capiend. ex hoft. utilit.

SOCRATES invited hisfriend EUTHYDEMUS to fupper; XANTIPPE in great rage went in to them, and overlet the table; EUTHYDEMUS rifing in a paffion to go off, My dear friend stay, faid SOCRA

TES; did not a hen do the fame thing at your house the other day, and did I fhew any refentment? Pluț. de ira cohibenda:

I could give many more inftances of her termagancy, and his philosophy, if fuch a proceeding might not look as if I were glad of an opportunity to expofe the fair fex; but, to fhew I have no fuch defign, I declare,that I had much worfe ftories to tell of her behaviour to her husband, which I rather paffed over, on account of the great esteem which I bear the ladies, especially thofe in the honourable ftation of matrimony.

A cloud

A cloud is light by turns, and dark,
Such is a lady with her spark;
Now with a fudden pouting gloom
She seem to darken all the room;
Again fhe's pleas'd, his fears beguil❜d.
And all is clear when she has fmil'd.
In this they're wondrously alike
(I hope the fimile will strike),

Though in thedarkeftdumps you view'em,
Stay but a moment you'll fee through 'em.
The clouds are apt to make reflection,
And frequently produce infection;
So Calia, with fmall provocation,
Blafts ev'ry neighbour's reputation.

The clouds delight in gaudy show,
For they, like ladies, have their beau ;
The gravest matron will confess,
That the herself is fond of drefs.

Obferve the clouds in pomp array'd,
What various colours are display'd,
The pink, the rofe, the vi'let's dye,
In that great drawing-room the sky;
How do thefe differ from our graces,
In garden-filks, brocades, and laces?

U 4

Are they not fuch another fight,
When met upon a birth-day night?

The clouds delight to change their
fashion:

Dear ladies, be not in a paffion,
Nor let this whim to you feem ftrange,
Who ev'ry hour delight in change.
In them and you alike are seen
The fullen fymptoms of the spleen;
The moment that your vapours rife,
We fee them dropping from your eyes.
In ev'ning fair you may behold
The clouds are fring'd with borrow'd gold,
And this is many a lady's cafe,

Who flaunts about in * borrow'd lace.

Grave matrons are like clouds of fnow, Their words fall thick, and foft and flow, While brifk coquets, like rattling hail, Our ears on ev'ry fide affail.

Clouds, when they intercept our fight, Deprive us of celestial light:

*Not Flanders lace, but gold and filver lace. By borrowed, is meant fuch as run in honeft tradefmen's debts for what they were not able

to pay, as many of them did for French filver lace againft the laft birth-day. Vid. the Shopkeepers books.

So