'Twas Paradise they thought, where all is nice, And our young spark believ'd he broke the ice.

THE folly I forgive him;--'tis in vain On this to reason--idle to complain; The WISE have oft been dup'd it is confest, And Solomon it seems among the rest. But gay Joconde felt nothing of the kind, A secret pleasure glow'd within his mind; He thought Astolphus wond'rous bliss had missed, And that himself alone the fair had kiss'd; A clod howe'er, who liv'd within the place, Had, prior to the Roman, her embrace.

THE soft amour extended through the night, The girl was pleas'd, and all proceeded right; The foll'wing night, the next, 'twas still the same; Young Clod at length her coldness 'gan to blame; And as he felt suspicious of the act, He watch'd her steps and verified the fact: A quarrel instantly between them rose; Howe'er the fair, his anger to compose, And favour not to lose, on honour vow'd, That when the sparks were gone, and time allow'd, She would oblige his craving, fierce desire;-- To which the village lad replied with ire:-- Pray what care I for any tavern guest, Of either sex; to you I now protest, If I be not indulg'd this very night, I'll publish your amours in mere despite.

HOW can we manage it, replied the belle, I'm quite distressed--indeed the truth to tell, I've promis'd them this night to come again, And if I fail, no doubt can then remain, But I shall lose the ring, their pledg'd reward, Which would, you know for me, be very hard.

TO you I wish the ring, replied young Clod, But do they sleep in bed, or only nod? Tell me, pray; oh, said she, they sleep most sound; But then between them plac'd shall I be found, And while the one amidst Love's frolicks sports, The other quiet lies, or Morpheus courts. On hearing this the rustick lad proposed, To visit her when others' eyes were closed. Oh! never risk it, quickly she replied; 'Twere folly to attempt it by their side. He answer'd, never fear, but only leave The door ajar, and me they'll not perceive.

THE door she left exactly as he said; The spark arriv'd, and then approach'd the bed, ('Twas near the foot,) then 'tween the sheets he slid, But God knows how he lay, or what he did. Astolphus and Joconde ne'er smelt a rat, Nor ever dreamt of what their girl was at, At length when each had turn'd and op'd his eyes, Continual movement fill'd him with surprise. The monarch softly said:--why how is this? My friend has eaten something, for in bliss, He revels on, and truly much I fear, His health will show, it may be bought too dear.

THIS very sentiment Joconde bethought; But Clod a breathing moment having caught, Resum'd his fun, and that so oft would seek: He gratified his wishes for a week; Then watching carefully, he found once more; Our noble heroes had begun to snore, On which he slyly took himself away, The road he came, and ere 'twas break of day; The girl soon follow'd, since she justly fear'd, Still more fatigues:--so off she quickly steer'd,

AT length when both the nobles were awake; Astolphus said, my friend you rest should take, 'Twere better till to-morrow keep in bed, Since sleep, with such fatigues, of course has fled: You talk at random, cried the Roman youth; More rest I fancy you require in truth; You've led a pretty life throughout the night; I? said the king; why I was weary quite, So long I waited; you no respite gave, But wholly seem'd our little nymph t' enslave; At length to try if I from rage could keep, I turn'd my back once more, and went to sleep. If you had willingly the belle resign'd, I was, my friend, to take a turn inclin'd; That had sufficed for me, since I, like you, Perpetual motion never can pursue.

YOUR raillery, the Roman youth replied, Quite disconcerted, pray now lay aside, And talk of something else; you've fully shown, That I'm your vassal, and since you are grown So fond that you to keep the girl desire, E'en wholly to yourself, why I'll retire; Do with her what you please, and we shall see, How long this furor will with you agree.

IT may, replied the king, for ever last, If ev'ry night like this, I'm doom'd to fast.

SIRE, said Joconde, no longer let us thus, In terms of playful raillery discuss; Since such your pleasure, send me from your view; On this the youthful monarch angry grew, And many words between the friends arose; The presence of the nymph Astolphus chose; To her they said, between us judge, sweet fair, And every thing was stated then with care.

THE girl with blushing cheeks before them kneel'd, And the mysterious tale at once reveal'd. Our heroes laugh'd; the treach'ry vile excus'd; And gave the ring, which much delight diffus'd; Together with a handsome sum of gold, Which soon a husband in her train enroll'd, Who, for a maid, the pretty fair-one took; And then our heroes wand'ring pranks forsook, With laurels cover'd, which in future times, Will make them famous through the Western climes; More glorious since, they only cost, we find, Those sweet ATTENTIONS pleasing to the MIND.

So many conquests proud of having made, And over full the BOOK of--those who'd play'd; Said gay Astolphus we will now, my friend, Return the shortest road and poaching end; If false our mates, yet we'll console ourselves, That many others have inconstant elves. Perhaps, in things a change will be one day, And only tender flames LOVE'S torch display; But now it seems some evil star presides, And Hymen's flock the devil surely rides. Besides, vile fiends the universe pervade, Whose constant aim is mortals to degrade, And cheat us to our noses if they can, (Hell's imps in human shape, disgrace to man!) Perhaps these wretches have bewitch'd our wives, And made us fancy errors in their lives. Then let us like good citizens, our days In future pass amidst domestick ways; Our absence may indeed restore their hearts, For jealousy oft virtuous truths imparts.

IN this Astolphus certainly believ'd; The friends return'd, and kindly were receiv'd; A little scolding first assail'd the ear; But blissful kisses banish'd ev'ry fear. To balls and banquets ALL themselves resigned; Of dwarf or valet nothing more we find; Each with his wife contentedly remained:-- 'Tis thus alone true happiness is gained.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Criticism never stops short nor ever wants for subjects In the midst of society, he was absent from it Regarded almost as an imbecile by the crowd The less of such misfortunes said is best The promises of kings are airy dreams Who only make friends in order to gain voices in their favour Who would wish to reduce Boccaccio to the same modesty as Virgil Wife beautiful, witty and chaste woman, who drove him to despair