The boy was vex’d, he felt his heart reprove The stern decree.--What! punish’d for his love! No! he would go, but softly, to the room Stealing in silence--for he knew his doom. Once in a week the father came to say, 300 “George, are you ill?”--and hurried him away; Yet to his wife would on their duties dwell, And often cry, “Do use my brother well;” And something kind, no question, Isaac meant, Who took vast credit for the vague intent. But, truly kind, the gentle boy essay’d To cheer his uncle, firm, although afraid; But now the father caught him at the door, And, swearing--yes, the man in office swore, And cried, “Away! How! Brother, I’m surprised, 310 That one so old can be so ill advised. Let him not dare to visit you again, Your cursed stories will disturb his brain; Is it not vile to court a foolish boy, Your own absurd narrations to enjoy? What! sullen!--ha! George Fletcher? you shall see, Proud as you are, your bread depends on me!” He spoke, and, frowning, to his dinner went, Then cool’d and felt some qualms of discontent; And thought on times when he compell’d his son 320 To hear these stories, nay, to beg for one; But the wife’s wrath o’ercame the brother’s pain, And shame was felt, and conscience rose in vain. George yet stole up--he saw his uncle lie Sick on the bed, and heard his heavy sigh: So he resolved, before he went to rest, To comfort one so dear and so distress’d; Then watch’d his time, but, with a child-like art, Betray’d a something treasured at his heart. Th’ observant wife remark’d, “the boy is grown 330 So like your brother, that he seems his own; So close and sullen! and I still suspect They often meet--do watch them and detect.” George now remark’d that all was still as night, And hasten’d up with terror and delight; “Uncle!” he cried, and softly tapp’d the door; “Do let me in”--but he could add no more; The careful father caught him in the fact, And cried, “You serpent! is it thus you act? Back to your mother!” and, with hasty blow, 340 He sent th’ indignant boy to grieve below; Then at the door an angry speech began: “Is this your conduct--is it thus you plan? Seduce my child, and make my house a scene Of vile dispute--What is it that you mean?-- George, are you dumb? do learn to know your friends, And think awhile on whom your bread depends.-- What! not a word? be thankful I am cool; But, sir, beware, nor longer play the fool.-- Come! brother, come! what is that you seek 350 By this rebellion?--Speak, you villain, speak!-- Weeping! I warrant, sorrow makes you dumb; I’ll ope your mouth, impostor! if I come. Let me approach--I’ll shake you from the bed,