Discourse on Jealousy—Of unsuspicious Men—Visit [to] William and his Wife—His Dwelling—Story of William and Fanny—Character of both—Their Contract—Fanny’s Visit to an Aunt—Its Consequences—Her Father’s Expectation—His Death—William a Wanderer—His Mode of Living—The Acquaintance he forms—Travels across the Kingdom—Whom he finds—The Event of their Meeting. TALES OF THE HALL. BOOK XIX. _WILLIAM BAILEY._ The letters Richard in a morning read To quiet and domestic comforts led; And George, who thought the world could not supply Comfort so pure, reflected with a sigh; Then would pursue the subject, half in play, Half earnest, till the sadness wore away. They spoke of Passion’s errors, Love’s disease, His pains, afflictions, wrongs, and jealousies; Of Herod’s vile commandment—that his wife Should live no more, when he no more had life; 10 He could not bear that royal Herod’s spouse Should, as a widow, make her second vows; Or that a mortal with his queen should wed, Or be the rival of the mighty dead. “Herods,” said Richard, “doubtless may be found, But haply do not in the world abound; Ladies, indeed, a dreadful lot would have, If jealousy could act beyond the grave: No doubt Othellos every place supply, Though every Desdemona does not die; 20 But there are lovers in the world, who live Slaves to the sex, and every fault forgive.” “I know,” said George, “a happy man and kind, Who finds his wife is all he wish’d to find: A mild, good man, who, if he nothing sees, Will suffer nothing to disturb his ease; Who, ever yielding both to smiles and sighs, } Admits no story that a wife denies— } She guides his mind, and she directs his eyes. } “Richard, there dwells within a mile a pair 30 Of good examples—I will guide you there: Such man is William Bailey—but his spouse Is virtue’s self since she had made her vows. I speak of ancient stories, long worn out, That honest William would not talk about; But he will sometimes check her starting tear, And call her self-correction too severe. “In their own inn the gentle pair are placed, Where you behold the marks of William’s taste. They dwell in plenty, in respect, and peace, 40 Landlord and lady of the Golden Fleece; Public indeed their calling—but there come No brawl, no revel to that decent room; All there is still, and comely to behold, Mild as the fleece, and pleasant as the gold. But, mild and pleasant as they now appear, They first experienced many a troubled year; And that, if known, might not command our praise, Like the smooth tenor of their present days. “Our hostess, now so grave and steady grown, 50 Has had some awkward trials of her own. She was not always so resign’d and meek— Yet can I little of her failings speak;