He felt disposed to fix his station there. 340 To gain his purpose, he perform’d the part Of a good actor, and prepared to start-- Not like a traveller in a day serene, When the sun shone and when the roads were clean; Not like the pilgrim, when the morning gray, The ruddy eve succeeding, sends his way; But in a season when the sharp east wind Had all its influence on a nervous mind. When past the parlour’s front it fiercely blew, } And Gwyn sat pitying every bird that flew, } 350 This strange physician said--“Adieu! adieu! } Farewell!--Heaven bless you!--if you should--but no, You need not fear--farewell! ’tis time to go.” The doctor spoke; and as the patient heard, His old disorders (dreadful train!) appear’d; He felt the tingling tremor, and the stress Upon his nerves that he could not express; Should his good friend forsake him, he perhaps Might meet his death, and surely a relapse.” So, as the doctor seem’d intent to part, 360 He cried in terror--“Oh! be where thou art: Come, thou art young, and unengaged; oh! come, Make me thy friend, give comfort to mine home; I have now symptoms that require thine aid, Do, doctor, stay”--th’ obliging doctor stay’d. Thus Gwyn was happy; he had now a friend, And a meek spouse on whom he could depend. But now, possess’d of male and female guide, Divided power he thus must subdivide: In earlier days he rode, or sat at ease 370 Reclined, and having but himself to please; Now, if he would a fav’rite nag bestride, He sought permission--“Doctor, may I ride?”-- (Rebecca’s eye her sovereign pleasure told,)-- “I think you may; but, guarded from the cold, Ride forty minutes.”--Free and happy soul! He scorn’d submission, and a man’s control; But where such friends in every care unite All for his good, obedience is delight. Now Gwyn, a sultan, bade affairs adieu, 380 Led and assisted by the faithful two; The favourite fair, Rebecca, near him sat, And whisper’d whom to love, assist, or hate; While the chief vizier eased his lord of cares, And bore himself the burden of affairs. No dangers could from such alliance flow, But from that law that changes all below. When wint’ry winds with leaves bestrew’d the ground, And men were coughing all the village round; When public papers of invasion told, 390 Diseases, famines, perils new and old; When philosophic writers fail’d to clear The mind of gloom, and lighter works to cheer; Then came fresh terrors on our hero’s mind-- Fears unforeseen, and feelings undefined. “In outward ills,” he cried, “I rest assured Of my friend’s aid; they will in time be cured: But can his art subdue, resist, control