The best elixir t' appease man and wife;
Strange are th' effects, the qualities divine,
'Tis water called, but worth its weight in wine.
If in his sullen airs Sir John should come,
Three spoonfuls take, hold in your mouth—then mum:
Smile, and look pleased, when he shall rage and scold,
Still in your mouth the healing cordial hold;
One month this sympathetic medecine tried,
He'll grow a lover, you a happy bride.
But, dearest niece, keep this grand secret close,
Or every prattling hussy'll beg a dose."
A water-bottle's brought for her relief,
Not Nantz could sooner ease the lady's grief:
Her busy thoughts are on the trial bent,
And female-like, impatient for th' event:
The bonny knight reels home exceeding clear,
Prepared for clamour, and domestic war.
Entering, he cries, "Hey! where's our thunder fled?
No hurricane! Betty, 's your lady dead?"
Madam, aside, an ample mouthful takes,
Curtsies, looks kind, but not a word she speaks:
Wondering, he stared, scarcely his eyes believed,
But found his ears agreeably deceived.
"Why, how now, Molly, what's the crotchet now?"
She smiles, and answers only with a bow.
Then clasping her about,—"Why, let me die!
These nightclothes, Moll, become thee mightily!"
With that, he sighed, her hand began to press,
And Betty calls, her lady to undress;
"Nay, kiss me, Molly, for I'm much inclined."
Her lace she cuts, to take him in the mind.
Thus the fond pair to bed enamoured went,
The lady pleased, and the good knight content.
For many days these fond endearments passed,
The reconciling bottle fails at last;
'Twas used and gone: Then midnight storms arose,
And looks and words the union discompose.
Her coach is ordered, and post-haste she flies,
To beg her uncle for some fresh supplies;
Transported does the strange effects relate,
Her knight's conversion, and her happy state!
"Why, niece," says he, "I prithee apprehend
The water's water. Be thyself thy friend;
Such beauty would the coldest husband warm,
But your provoking tongue undoes the charm:
Be silent, and complying; you'll soon find,
Sir John, without a medecine, will be kind."
St. James's Coffee-house, April 13
Letters from Venice say, the disappointment of their expectation to see his Danish Majesty, has very much disquieted the Court of Rome. Our last advices from Germany inform us, that the minister of Hanover has urged the council at Ratisbon to exert themselves in behalf of the common cause, and taken the liberty to say, that the dignity, the virtue, the prudence of his electoral highness, his master, were called to the head of their affairs in vain, if they thought fit to leave him naked of the proper means to make those excellences useful for the honour and safety of the Empire. They write from Berlin of the 13th, O.S., that the true design of General Fleming's visit to that Court was, to insinuate, that it will be for the mutual interest of the King of Prussia and King Augustus to enter into a new alliance; but that the ministers of Prussia are not inclined to his sentiments. We hear from Vienna, that his Imperial Majesty has expressed great satisfaction in their high mightinesses having communicated to him the whole that has passed in the affair of a peace. Though there have been practices used by the agents of France, in all the Courts of Europe, to break the good understanding of the allies, they have had no other effect, but to make all the members concerned in the alliance, more doubtful of their safety from the great offers of the enemy. The Empire is roused by this alarm, and the frontiers of all the French dominions are in danger of being insulted the ensuing campaign: advices from all parts confirm, that it is impossible for France to find a way to obtain so much credit, as to gain any one potentate of the allies, or make any hope for safety from other prospects.
From my own Apartment, April 13
I find it of very great use, now I am setting up for a writer of news, that I am an adept in astrological speculations; by which means, I avoid speaking of things which may offend great persons. But at the same time, I must not prostitute the liberal sciences so far, as not to utter the truth in cases which do not immediately concern the good of my native country. I must therefore boldly contradict what has been so assuredly reported by the news-writers of England, that France is in the most deplorable condition, and that their people die in great multitudes. I will therefore let the world know, that my correspondent, by the way of Brussels, informs me, upon his honour, that the gentleman who writes the Gazette of Paris, and ought to know as well as any man, has told him, that ever since the king has been past his 63rd year, or grand climacteric, there has not one man died of the French nation who was younger than his Majesty, except a very few, who were taken suddenly near the village of Hochsted84 in Germany; and some more, who were straitened for lodging at a place called Ramilies, and died on the road to Ghent and Bruges. There are also other things given out by the allies, which are shifts below a conquering nation to make use of. Among others, 'tis said, there is a general murmuring among the people of France, though at the same time all my letters agree, that there is so good an understanding among them, that there is not one morsel carried out of any market in the kingdom, but what is delivered upon credit.
No. 3.
[STEELE.
From Thursday, April 14, to Saturday, April 16, 1709
Will's Coffee-house, April 14
This evening, the comedy called "The Country Wife"85 was acted in Drury Lane, for the benefit of Mrs. Bignell.86 The part which gives name to the play was performed by herself. Through the whole action, she made a very pretty figure, and exactly entered into the nature of the part. Her husband in the drama, is represented to be one of those debauchees who run through the vices of the town, and believe when they think fit they can marry, and settle at their ease. His own knowledge of the iniquity of the age, makes him choose a wife wholly ignorant of it, and place his security in her want of skill how to abuse him. The poet, on many occasions, where the propriety of the character will admit of it, insinuates, that there is no defence against vice, but the contempt of it: and has, in the natural ideas of an untainted innocent, shown the gradual steps to ruin and destruction, which persons of condition run into, without the help of a good education how to form their conduct. The torment of a jealous coxcomb, which arises from his own false maxims, and the aggravation of his pain, by the very words in which he sees her innocence, makes a very pleasant and instructive satire. The character of Horner, and the design of it, is a good representation of the age in which that comedy was written; at which time love and wenching were the business