With which the Bachelor is daily teased,
When he himself might end such heart-felt griefs
By wedding some fair maid? O! who would live
Yawning and staring sadly in the fire,
Till celibacy becomes a weary life,
But that the dread of something after wedlock
(That undiscover'd state from whose strong chains
No captive can get free) puzzles the will,
And makes us rather choose those ills we have,
Than fly to others which a wife may bring?
Thus caution does make Bachelors of us all,
And thus our natural wish for matrimony
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought--
And love-adventures of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And miss the name of wedlock.
--------
T H E L A N D S H I P W R E C K.
This gentleman and I
Pass'd but just now by your next neighbour's house,
Where, as they say, dwells one young Lionel,
An unthrift youth--his father now at sea;
And there this night was held a sumptuous feast.
In the height of their carousing, all their brains
Warm'd with the heat of wine, discourse was offered
Of ships and storms at sea; when suddenly,
Out of his giddy wildness, one conceives
The room wherein they quaff'd to be a pinnace,
Moving and floating, and the confus'd noise
To be the murmuring winds, gust, mariners
That their unsteadfast footing did proceed
From rocking of the vessel. This conceiv'd,
Each one begins to apprehend the danger,
And to look out for safety. Fly, saith one,
Up to the main-top, and discover. He
Climbs by the bed-post to the tester, there
Reports a turbulent sea and tempest towards;
And wills them, if they'll save their ship and lives,
To east their lading overboard. At this
All fall to work, and hoist into the street,
As to the sea, what next came to their hand,
Stools, tables, tressels, trenchers, bedsteads, cups,
Pots, plate, and glasses. Here a fellow whistles;
They take him for the boatswain: one lies struggling
