To please the eye were chosen pictures plac'd, ' And some light volumes to amuse the taste;

'Letters and music on a table laid,

"For much the Lady wrote, and often play'd;
'Beneath the window was a toilet spread,
And a fire gleam'd upon a crimson bed.'

He paus'd, he rose; with troubled joy the Wife
Felt the new era of her changeful life;

Frankness and love appear'd in Stafford's face,
And all her trouble to delight gave place.

Twice made the Guest an effort to sustain

Her feelings, twice resum'd her seat in vain,
Nor could suppress her shame, nor could support her

pain:

Quick she retir'd, and all the dismal night

Thought of her guilt, her folly, and her flight;

Then sought unseen her miserable home,

To think of comforts lost, and brood on wants to come.

X

TALE XVII.

RESENTMENT.

She hath a tear for pity, and a hand

Open as day for melting charity;

Yet, notwithstanding, being incens'd, is flint-
Her temper, therefore, must be well observ'd.

2 Henry IV. Act IV. Scene 4.

Three or four wenches where I stood, cried-" Alas! good soul!" and forgave him with all their hearts: but there is no heed to be taken of them; if Cæsar had stabb'd their Mothers, they would have done no less.

1

Julius Cæsar, Act I. Scene 2.

How dost? Art cold?

I'm cold myself─Where is the straw, my fellow ?
The act of our necessities strange,

That can make vile things precious.

King Lear, Act III. Scene 2.

TALE XVII.

RESENTMENT.

FEMALES there are of unsuspicious mind,
Easy and soft, and credulous and kind;
Who, when offended for the twentieth time,
Will hear th' offender and forgive the crime:
And there are others whom, like these to cheat,
Asks but the humblest effort of deceit;
But they, once injur'd, feel a strong disdain,
And, seldom pardoning, never trust again;
Urg'd by religion, they forgive-but yet
Guard the warm heart, and never more forget:-
Those are like wax-apply them to the fire,
Melting, they take th' impressions you desire;
Easy to mould, and fashion as you please,
And again moulded with an equal ease:
Like smelted iron these the forms retain,
But once impress'd will never melt again.

A busy port, a serious Merchant made, His chosen place to re-commence his trade: And brought his Lady, who, their children dead, Their native seat of recent sorrow fled;