From subsequent parts of the narrative, it appears that Clavijo exerted all his powers of cunning and intrigue in order to get himself re-instated in his situation; not omitting further attempts to impose upon M. de Beaumarchais, accompanied with abject entreaties and hypocritical professions. All, however, was in vain; and this man, who seems to have been an extraordinary compound of intellectual ability and moral depravity, seems to have sunk into contempt and insignificance. The young lady recovered the shock she had received; and was afterwards happily married, and settled at Madrid. [51] The Princesses of France, in whose household M. de Beaumarchais held an office. [52] The Reflector. MARS AND VENUS. One day, upon that Trojan plain, Where men in hecatombs were slain, Th' immortal gods (no common sight) Thought fit to mingle in the fight, And found convincing proof that those Who will in quarrels interpose Are often doom'd to suffer harm-- Venus was wounded in the arm; Whilst Mars himself, the god of war, Receiv'd an ignominious scar, And, fairly beat by Diomed, Fled back to heav'n and kept his bed. That bed (the proof may still be seen) Had long been shared with beauty's queen; For, with th' adventure of the cage, Vulcan had vented all his rage, (a) And, like Italian husbands, he Now wore his horns resignedly. Ye modest critics! spare my song: If gods and goddesses did wrong, And revell'd in illicit love, As poets, sculptors, painters, prove, Is mine the fault? and, if I tell Some tales of scandal that befell In heathen times, why need my lays On ladies' cheeks more blushes raise, When read (if such my envied lot) In secret boudoir, bower, or grot, Than scenes which, in the blaze of light, They throng to witness ev'ry night? Ere you condemn my humble page, Glance for a moment at the stage, Where twirling gods to view expose Their pliant limbs, in tighten'd hose, And goddesses of doubtful fame Are by lord chamberlains allow'd, With practis'd postures, to inflame The passions of a gazing crowd: And if great camels, such as these, Are swallow'd with apparent ease, Oh! strain not at a gnat like me, Nor deem me lost to decency, When I now venture to declare That Mars and Venus--guilty pair-- On the same couch extended lay, And cursed the fortunes of the day. The little Loves, who round them flew, Could only sob to show their feeling, Since they, of course, much better knew The art of wounding than of healing, And Cupid's self essay'd in vain To ease his lovely mother's pain: The chaplet that his locks confin'd He tore indeed her wound to bind; But from her sympathetic fever He had no nostrum to relieve her, And, thinking that she might assuage That fever, as she did her rage,