SATIRICAL LETRILLA VII

O! what a blockhead is Don Andres,
So spending his gold without measure,
Who ruins, perhaps, to be a Marquess,
His house by the waste of his treasure!
A cross on his breast to wear so prim,
Much be the good it will do to him!

Louis is passing the whole long night,
In the dance, what a fancy to take!
So foolish too, when he easier might
On his warm soft bed his comfort make;
To stretch as he pleased each weary limb:
Much be the good it will do to him!

O, how short-sighted is Avarice!
Cenon exposes himself to shame,
For the few pounds more he gains amiss,
To lose his office and his good name;
For a paltry bribe his fame to dim,
Much be the good it will do to him.

And Clara! what of thee shall I say?
When slowly along I see thee go,
As if quite lame on the public way,
And on thy long broad foot bestow
A short narrow shoe for us to see?
Much be the good it will do to thee!

Can it be possibly true, Jerome,
Though yearly he sees his rents decrease,
When his fat steward shall bring him home
His bills, will sign them as he may please?
Without any search to scarcely skim?
Much be the good it will do to him!

Fabio wedded with Jane, when above
A sixpence they neither had, but then
«He loved her so!» Long life to that love,
Bravo! tomorrow if he seem fain
To hang himself with vexation grim,
Much be the good it will do to him.

Wouldst thou engage with the bulls in fight,
My friend! thy wish to be gratified,
When to the best champion known will light
Some luckless thrust give through the right side?
To try thy skill thou art surely free:
Much be the good it will do to thee!

Martin goes a poor rabbit to chase,
When he could buy for a trifle one
Fully as good in the market-place;
And he gets fever-struck by the sun!
Well, at the least he has had his whim:
Much be the good it will do to him!

If when such a thing he least expects,
His house should tumble upon his head,
Because a doubloon Anton neglects
To give for mending the roof instead,
The hole some rat had made in the rim,
Much be the good it will do to him!

If should some crusty reader exclaim
Over these lines,—What a wretched style!
What a bad taste to make it his aim!
My pen more gracefully could the while
Have made the verse go easy and trim,
Much be the good it will do to him!