Epigrams from the French

You say that when you come to meYou quite forget your dull ennui;But tell me, Tomkins, is it fairTo leave me your ennui to bear?

To excuse your folly, friend, you need not seek—Who knows not Love is strong and Reason weak?

Virtuous and fair you are—and by my lifeI should adore you—were you not my wife.

I marvel, Maud, that you're so fond of scandal,Since you yourself give to it such a handle.

Seduce your wife! Nay, friend, your fears are vain—D'ye think my taste so bad? she's far too plain.

Love once in Heaven reigned and Reason reigned on earth,But Reason now has gone above since Love had here her birth.

Phillis! a deaf man you should wed,Because your beauty he would see,And, hearing not the things you said,Would never disenchanted be.

They say I take no exercise,—but that is idle talk,—Around Emilia, fair and fat, three times a day I walk.

Return, dear maid, my longing heart to bless;I'm dying of desire to die of happiness.

Blanche says she loves me: that is true no doubt:She loves all men—and doesn't leave me out.

Nothing you love but evil—tell us whyYou show to virtue such antipathy?Why when you see it show so much alarm?Virtue has never done you any harm.

Dad's dead and left me nothing in his will—I shouldn't care if he were living still.

Another Condé we may see,Turenne may come again,But for another Grammont weMust ever look in vain.

Louisa says that I'm her beau,So I suppose it must be so;But till she said so I must ownThe fact to me was quite unknown.

"My patients never of my skill complain,"Said a physician, ignorant and vain:"That I can understand," a jester said"For no complaints are uttered by the dead."

Here lies John Smith—a tear afford him—Who hung himself because life bored him.

When most for liberty the people shoutThere's usually the least of it about:It means most oft that every one is freeWith the misguided millions to agree.

Should we the truth on all occasions tell?Say, should the sun each morn the darkness quell?

Love's like the changing moon, whose figureGrows smaller if it grows not bigger.

What reason have I for my love, you ask?Alas! to answer were too hard a task:Affection from the reason does not flow,The heart has reasons reason does not know.

At happiness in prospect do not jeer,Since 'tis the only pleasure we have here.

To love or not to love we cannot will;A greater will our will o'erruleth still.

He whom desire doth make a slave,Possessed, as tyrant will behave.

What! here alone, dear Forlis! What's amiss?You do not oft shun company, I wis."I was engaged communing with myself."Alas! how bored you most have been, poor elf!

Titus counted as lost the dayUnsignalised by some good deed;But Maupou counts the other way,And mourns the day from evil freed,—And yet he mourns but few indeed.

Here lies the famous Cardinal Richelieu,Whose grave with tears I constantly bedew:If you should think my grief too great appearsKnow with him died my pension: hence these tears.

Since Bufo's picture never says a wordTo call it a good likeness is absurd.

"Robbers and thieves! how dare they cheat me so?Charge twenty crowns for burying my wife!The rascals mean to give me cause for woe—I almost wish her back, upon my life!"

"A true chameleon, Chloris can assumeAll the bright colours known in nature's loom.""What, all the colours?" "Well, the truth to speak,I've never seen a blush upon her cheek!"

He who lies here was faithful, good and kind.Search where you will no better friend you'll find:He clung to me when I was fortune's prey.""A man of men!" "Ah no! 'twas my dog Tray."

Why don't you wed?—I like my present state.—I know a maiden—Guard me from her, fate!—Charming: I'm sure she'll please you.—There you're out.—Fifteen.—Too young.—Most witty.—Pert, I doubt.—Discreet.—Dissembler.—Pretty.—Oft a curse!—Well born.—Proud as a peacock.—Loving.—Worse!Much talent.—Far too much, I fear, for me.—Wealthy.—Enough: to marry I agree.

Death, in stopping my breathWas unfair, you'll agree,Since I ne'er thought of DeathWhy should he think of me?

I own I hardly like it, thoughSuch clouds of smoke you see me blow;In fact I should not care for it a bit,But that my husband has forbidden it:Therefore my smoking is incessant,To aggravate him—not because it's pleasant.

Women alone true tempters are to man,The devil cannot tempt as women can.

You wish to make a good round fortune? Well,Here's a receipt will bring you in much pelf—Buy Gilbert at his proper value: sellHim at the rate he estimates himself.