Thus far the Captain heard, Nor save by sign or look had interfered; 810 But now he spoke; to all she said agreed, And she conceived it useless to proceed. Something he promised, and the Lady went Half-pleased away, yet wondering what he meant; Polite he was and kind, but she could trace A smile, or something like it, in his face; ’Twas not a look that gave her joy or pain— She tried to read it, but she tried in vain. Then call’d the Doctor—’twas his usual way— To ask “How fares my worthy friend to-day?” 820 To feel his pulse, and as a friend to give Unfee’d advice, how such a man should live; And thus, digressing, he could soon contrive, At his own purpose smoothly to arrive. “My Brother? yes, he lives without a care, And, though he needs not, yet he loves to spare. James I respect; and yet it must be told, His speech is friendly, but his heart is cold. His smile assumed has not the real glow Of love!—a sunbeam shining on the snow. 830 Children he has; but are they causes why He should our pleas resist, our claims deny? Our father left the means by which he thrives, While we are labouring to support our lives— _We_, need I say? my widow’d Sister lives On a large jointure; nay, she largely gives;— And Fanny sighs—for gold does Fanny sigh? Or wants she that which money cannot buy— Youth and young hopes?—Ah! could my kindred share The liberal mind’s distress, and daily care, 840 The painful toil to gain the petty fee— They’d bless their stars, and join to pity me. Hard is his fate, who would, with eager joy, To save mankind, his every power employ; Yet in his walk unnumber’d insults meets And gains ‘mid scorn the food that chokes him as he eats. “Oh, Captain Elliot! you who know mankind, With all the anguish of the feeling mind, Bear to our kind relation these the woes That e’en to you ’tis misery to disclose. 850 You can describe what I but faintly trace— A man of learning cannot bear disgrace; Refinement sharpens woes that wants create, And ’tis fresh grief such grievous things to state; Yet those so near me let me not reprove— I love them well, and they deserve my love; But want they know not—Oh! that I could say I am in this as ignorant as they.” The Doctor thus.—The Captain grave and kind, } To the sad tale with serious looks inclined, 860} And promise made to keep th’ important speech in mind. } James and the Widow, how is yet unknown, Heard of these visits, and would make their own. All was not fair, they judged, and both agreed To their good Friend together to proceed. Forth then they went to see him, and persuade— As warm a pair as ever Anger made. The Widow lady must the speaker be: So James agreed; for words at will had she; And then her Brother, if she needed proof, 870 Should add, “’Tis truth;”—it was for him enough.