LIII. The Count and Laura made their new arrangement, For half a dozen years without estrangement; They had their little differences, too; Those jealous whiffs, which never any change meant : Who have not had this pouting sort of squabble, LIV. But on the whole, they were a happy pair, As happy as unlawful love could make them ; The gentleman was fond, the lady fair, Their chains so slight, 'twas not worth while to break them : The world beheld them with indulgent air; The pious only wish'd "the devil take them!" He took them not; he very often waits, LV. But they were young: Oh! what without our youth LVI. It was the Carnival, as I have said Laura the usual preparations made, Which you do when your mind's made up to ge To-night to Mrs. Boehm's masquerade, LVII. Laura, when drest, was (as I sang before) That and the title-page, for fear the press Should soil with parts of speech the parts of dress. LVIII. They went to the Ridotto; -'tis a hall Where people dance, and sup, and dance again; Its proper name, perhaps, were a masqued ball, But that's of no importance to my strain; "Tis (on a smaller scale) like our Vauxhall, Excepting that it can't be spoilt by rain : The company is "mix'd" (the phrase I quote is, As much as saying, they're below your notice ;) LIX. For a "mixt company" implies that, save Yourself and friends, and half a hundred more, Whom you may bow to without looking grave, The rest are but a vulgar set, the bore Of public places, where they basely brave The fashionable stare of twenty score Of well-bred persons, called "the World;" but I, Although I know them, really don't know why. LX. This is the case in England; at least was Irreparably soon decline, alas! The demagogues of fashion: all below LXI. Crush'd was Napoleon by the northern Thor, Who knock'd his army down with icy hammer, Stopp'd by the elements, like a whaler, or A blundering novice in his new French grammar; Good cause had he to doubt the chance of war, And as for Fortune--but I dare not d-n her, Because, were I to ponder to infinity, The more I should believe in her divinity. LXIL Soe rules the present, past, and all to be yet, Not that I mean her bounties to disparage, LXIII. To turn, and to return; -the devil take it! It needs must be-and so it rather lingers; LXIV. They went to the Ridotto ('tis a place LXV. Now Laura moves along the joyous crowd, LXVI. One has false curls, another too much paint, A third-where did she buy that frightful turban? A fourth's so pale she fears she's going to faint, A fifth's look 's vulgar, dowdyish, and suburban, A sixth's white silk has got a yellow taint, A seventh's thin muslin surely will be her bane, And lo! an eighth appears,---"I'll see no more!" For fear, like Banquo's kings, they reach a score. LXVII. Meantime, while she was thus at others gazing, The women only thought it quite amazing |