A Man of Wisdom may disguise

His Knowledge, and not seem too wise:

But, take it for a constant Rule,

There’s no concealing of a Fool.

Of this the Instances are plenty;

But One may serve as well as Twenty.

A worthy Knight, of great Estate,

Prov'd to be so unfortunate,

That, with great Cost and fruitless Care,

He rear'd a Blockhead to his Heir;

But, hoping it wou'd mend the Breed,

Should he some prudent Damsel wed,

He sent him out to court a Lady,

Whose Father he’d engag'd already.

But, first, he charg'd him on his Blessing,

To keep in Mind this easy Lesson.

Humphry, says he, whate’er you do,

Take heed your Words be very few,

For you'll be counted wise, so long

As you have Wit to hold your Tongue.

Then never feed too greedily

On Custard, Pudding, or sweet Pye,

Lest your ungovern'd Appetite

Bring Shame and Sorrow in the Night.

But John shall go, and he’ll advise ye,

And, let me tell you, John’s no Nisey.

- Here, John, d’you mind, give Numps a Touch

Whene’er he Talks or Eats too much.

Be sure take heed he don't neglect

To pay th’old Gentry great Respect;

And all thy Services express

With handsome Terms, with good Address.

Instructed thus, they both look Horse,

And t'wards the Lady bent their Course.

While John perform'd the Teacher’s Part,

Numps got his Compliments by Heart;

Which he deliver'd in such guise,

They thought him tolerably wise:

He held his Tongue, this seem'd to be

A Token of his Modesty.

All pais'd on well, till Supper came:

O hateful Meal! oh hateful Name!

Vile Author of poor Humphry’s Shame!

From ev'ry Dish most nicely drest

Th’old Lady still supply'd her Guest;

All with Astonishment beheld

His Plate oft empty, often fill'd.

He eat; John pull'd, and pull'd again,

Thy Pulls, O John, were all in vain!

For when he’d cramm'd up to the Throat,

In came an Apple pie to boot.

When Madam saw how fond an Eye

He cast upon the smoaking Pye,

She fill'd his Plate six Inches high.

John gave his Elbow many a Twitch,

Thought he, our John may kiss my B-

'Tis Apple-pye, I’ll eat my Fill,

Let Consequence be what it will.

Fatal Resolve! I dread to tell

The Consequences which befel.

Let sordid Night-men tell the rest,

Who relish the unsav’ry Jest.

My dainty Muse wou'd fain have done:

But Truth commands, she must go on.

'Tis for Repentance now too late:

The Fish has gorg'd the slipp'ry Bait.

In the best Bed the 'Squire must lie,

And John in Truckle-Bed just by;

Who slept, till bitter Voice and Groan

At Midnight cry'd, O help! dear John,

Or else for ever I'm undone:

For Heaven’s sake find out some Excuse,

The dev'lish Applepye’s broke loose;

And as I’ve laid upon’t, and roll’d it,

The Bed’s scarce big enough to hold it.

John wak'd, and thus began to pray,

The Devil take all Fools, I say;

Why, choak ye, eat it up again,

And lick the Sheets and Bolster clean.

What can be done! — Here take my Shirt,

And I’ll come wallow in the Dirt.

Do you get up as soon as light,

I’ll lie, and try to set all right.

So said, so done; up got the 'Squire,

And John lay tumbling in the Mire.

He lay till two brisk Lasses come

To make the Bed, and clean the Room;

Soon in the Damask Bed, Friend John

Was spy'd half bury'd in the Down.

What’s here? quo' Nell, as I’m alive,

The Master rose soon after Five.

Here is his Man, a lazy Loon,

Intends to lie a-bed till Noon.

Quoth John, I’ve had a tedious Night,

That Truckle-bed has lam'd me quite.

I turn'd in here to take some Rest,

This is a comfortable Nest:

One Nap, dear Girls, is all I beg.

A Nap! — Sue, give him some cold Pig.

Come, come, says John, don't play the Fool;

I’m laxative, you’ll make me pull,

And straining hard, will force a Stool.

They pull'd, John squeez'd, and gave a Grunt;

And out he leap'd - good faith, I’ve don’t:

E’en thank your selves - Away ran Nell

And Sue, half poison'd with the Smell.

This Story slipt not, you may swear,

But quickly reach'd the Master’s Ear,

His Worship, tickled with the Whim,

Could not forbear at Dinner-time

To banter John; nor did he fail

T’enlarge upon the curious Tale.

But, seeing John with Shame cast down

He frankly tipp'd him half a Crown.

John bow'd - Young Master sitting by,

Seeing the Prize with envious Eye,

Into John’s Fob directly go,

Cry'd out aloud, why, John, you know

The half Crown is by Right my due;

'Twas I be—t the Bed, not you.

O blunder, never to be mended!

This one wise Speech the Courtship ended.

Home trotted John in doleful Dumps,

And far behind sneak'd hopeful Numps.

And Madam, thus deserted by her 'Squire,

Found out a cleanlier Lover to lie by her.