Dishonour’d, unrevenged—I may forgive, But to thy oath I bind thee; on thy soul Seek not my injured spirit to control; Seek not to soften; I am hard of heart, 480} Harden’d by insult:—leave her now, and part, } And let me know she grieves while I enjoy her smart.” } Charles first in anger to the knight replied, Then felt the clog upon his soul, and sigh’d: To his obedience made his wishes stoop, And now admitted, now excluded hope; As lovers do, he saw a prospect fair, And then so dark, he sank into despair. The uncle grieved; he even told the youth That he was sorry, and it seem’d a truth; 490 But, though it vex’d, it varied not his mind; He bound himself, and would his nephew bind. “I told him this, placed danger in his view, Bade him be certain, bound him to be true; And shall I now my purposes reject, Because my warnings were of no effect?” Thus felt Sir Owen as a man whose cause Is very good—it had his own applause. * * * * * Our knight a tenant had in high esteem, His constant boast, when justice was his theme: 500 He praised the farmer’s sense, his shrewd discourse, Free without rudeness, manly, and not coarse; As farmer, tenant, nay, as man, the knight Thought Ellis all that is approved and right. Then he was happy, and some envy drew, For knowing more than other farmers knew; They call’d him learned, and it sooth’d their pride, While he in his was pleased and gratified. Still more t’ offend, he to the altar led The vicar’s niece, to early reading bred; 510 Who, though she freely ventured on the life, Could never fully be the farmer’s wife; She had a softness, gentleness, and ease, Sure a coarse mind to humble and displease. O! had she never known a fault beside, How vain their spite, how impotent their pride! Three darling girls the happy couple bless’d, Who now the sweetest lot of life possess’d; For what can more a grateful spirit move Than health, with competence, and peace, with love? 520 Ellis would sometimes, thriving man! retire To the town inn, and quit the parlour fire; But he was ever kind where’er he went, } And trifling sums in his amusements spent; } He bought, he thought, for her—she should have been content. } Oft, when he cash received at Smithfield mart, At Cranbourn-alley he would leave a part; And, if to town he follow’d what he sold, Sure was his wife a present to behold. Still, when his evenings at the inn were spent, 530 She mused at home in sullen discontent; And, sighing, yielded to a wish that some With social spirit to the farm would come. There was a farmer in the place, whose name, And skill in rural arts, was known to fame; He had a pupil, by his landlord sent, On terms that gave the parties much content: The youth those arts, and those alone, should learn;