The History of Johnny Quae Genus Part 10

Now, on his serious purpose bent, He to Sir MIDRIFF BOLUS went; But then, alas! as we shall see, His face did not forebode a fee: Nor did the great man smiling meet him, Or with a tone familiar greet him, As his keen humour us'd to do When _golden sovereigns_ were in view: Nor did he take him by the hand, As when it did the coin command.

He now put on a curious leer, That said, "I pray, what brought _you_ here?"

"I'm come to hope you'll condescend To prove yourself my promis'd friend,"

QUae GENUS said, "and with this view, I now present myself to you.

You told me, 'when your master's gone, Look on my friends.h.i.+p as your own.'

He's gone, alas, I too well know, To me a most affecting blow: But still, I trust, I may engage Your kind, protecting patronage, And, among those of rank and wealth Who make you guardian of their health, Your favour may smile on my fate, And I renew an household state, Like that which crown'd my better days, When I enjoy'd your frequent praise."

The Doctor now his suppliant ey'd, And thus in hasty tone replied.

"Indeed I've something else to do Than thus to be employ'd by you: I'm in great haste and must away, My patients wait, I cannot stay, To hear you, your fine story tell:-- So, honest friend, I wish you well."-- --Thus when Sir _Jeffery's_ fees were o'er He thought not of QUae GENUS more.

Now, as he pac'd along the street, } Thus did he to himself repeat, } "Is this the fortune I must meet? } Is this the merited reward Which they receive who strive to guard Their hearts against the tempting guise Of int'rest and its sorceries; And say to Virtue, 'Maid divine!

Behold thy slave, I'm wholly thine!'

--It is not that I now repent, Or harbour selfish discontent, That I should hesitate to seize The golden opportunities Which were presented to my power, Not ev'ry day, but ev'ry hour, While with Sir _Jeffery Gourmand_ I Enjoy'd the means those arts to ply, Which, by the curious eye unseen, Might with such gains have pregnant been: No, no, thank Heaven, I'm not embued With that worst vice, Ingrat.i.tude; An odious vice that is of kin To every other mortal sin.

I felt his kindness, and where'er My lot may be of pain and care, Those kind reflections I possess To make me smile in my distress, That I ne'er for a moment swerv'd From the best duties he deserv'd; Nay, which he, to his closing days, So often honour'd with his praise,-- And should it be my lot to find Another master good and kind, Whose gen'rous heart would condescend To treat QUae GENUS as a friend, This I may truly boast, that he } Should find an humble friend in me, } Whose soul is faithful loyalty! } I would the path of truth pursue As I have long been us'd to do; And where, howe'er oblig'd to bend To pressing views, my wishes tend.

But, in this world of chance and change, As it appears, I'm doom'd to range, And I may be oblig'd to treat it As it will be my lot to meet it.

I will not rob nor will I steal, } But from myself I'll not conceal } The secret purpose which I feel. } Commandments I will never break, But when fair interest is at stake, I'll follow in my future views The conduct which the world pursues; And when that principle I own, The world will have no right to frown.

Thus whatsoe'er may be my station, Where chance may fix my next vocation I'll keep discretion in my view, As prudent folk profess to do.

--But ere throughout the town at large I look for some inviting charge, Though with one Doctor I have fail'd, Another now shall be a.s.sail'd; Though brilliant prospects may not s.h.i.+ne, Yet I'll e'en go to ANODYNE.

The QUACK may prove a better friend Than e'er Sir MIDRIFF might intend; At all events, howe'er perverse, 'Tis plain he cannot prove a worse; Howe'er that be, I can but try."-- --Thus clos'd his thoughts' soliloquy.

QUae GENUS now pa.s.s'd up the Court The sickly patient's still resort, Where, in a corner quite retired, The mansion stood which he desired, Whose door, bedight with darksome green And mouldings edg'd with black, is seen; While letter'd gold appears to s.h.i.+ne And tell the name of ANODYNE.

He touch'd the well-known tinkling-bell That did some sickly presence tell, When the door op'd with rapid force, And patients glided in of course.

There was ne'er heard a knocker's sound, To rouse the idle neighbours round, Or to the windows call the eye Of peeping curiosity.

The signal was not given twice; QUae GENUS enter'd in a trice And sought the solemn Doctor's nook, Where he sat with a folio book, Some ancient Galen's learned creed, Which 'tis not certain he could read: Alone, o'er this he gravely doz'd, But when the sick arriv'd, he clos'd The c.u.mbrous volume, and gave ear The tale of some distress to hear.

To JOHNNY this was no new scene, For here he had full often been, But as he _fee-less_ ne'er before Had hasten'd through the well-known door, He felt some doubts within his mind What sort of welcome he should find.

Sir MIDRIFF'S conduct it appears, Had chang'd his promis'd hopes to fears; And when he felt such rude disdain From one who rul'd in Warwick-Lane, Who boasted of superior knowledge To all the learned of the College; Who from his frequent promise swerv'd, To one who his kind smiles deserv'd; Yet ev'ry day, and ev'ry hour, Possess'd the patronising power, With mere commending words to gain The boon QUae GENUS ask'd in vain;-- What good then could his hopes supply From the low pride of quackery, From one who rested his pretence On nostrums and on impudence.

But he had felt that in Life's dance, We often owe to strokes of chance, That unexpected good prevail'd Where Reason's better hopes have fail'd.

Such thoughts the purpose did incline To make his bows to ANODYNE.

The Doctor with a friendly air, } 'Rose from his dictatorial chair, } And pleasure told to see him there: } When thus QUae GENUS in reply, Began the following Colloquy.

QUae GENUS.

"Sir _Jeffery_, as, I trust, you know, Is gone, Sir, where we all must go; In spite of all your healing power, Has reach'd, at length, his final hour, Though had he trusted all to you, } And to Sir MIDRIFF bade adieu, } Which he was half inclin'd to do, } Perhaps, my present visit here Would not so penniless appear; For I am come, as you must see, Without the pa.s.s-port of a fee.

It is self-interest, I fear, Yes, I must own it, brings me here.

Since his departure I am hurl'd To push my fortune in the world, And may I now with courage say, You will a.s.sist me on my way?

--Such is, alas! my alter'd case, I'm seeking for another place, Though e'en my visionary mind Can never hope again to find Such a so envied household post, As that which I have lately lost.

With fortune I shall ne'er contend But smile on that which she may send; And of whatever state possest, Be satisfied and act my best.

Now, as I've reason well to know, Though 'tis not you have told me so, That persons of superior worth, The wealthy and of n.o.ble birth; Who, tir'd of physic's settled rules, As taught in colleges and schools, Have sought your bold and fearless skill, The potent drafts and secret pill, Which your _Ac.u.men_ can impart, Beyond the reach of drudging art, And I have heard will cure the pain, When boasting science tries in vain: Nor is this all, the tonish fair Attend to seek your healing care.

When here I've for Sir _Jeffery_ been, } Dames of high figure I have seen, } Lolling behind your folding screen } With all their gay caricatures The lively eye's attractive lures.

Broad bonnets all beflower'd o'er, Are often pa.s.sing through your door, And I have glanc'd at many a shawl That glided through your gloomy hall.

When such grand visitors as these Apply to you to give them ease; And when your skill relieves their pain, That is the time their grace to gain, And then, good Doctor, you might see If you could gain a grace for me; While to some patient you commend The service of your humble friend: Nor will he fail returns to make, Which you may condescend to take; And grateful memory will repay Your kindness to his dying day."

The modest suit was not denied, And thus, th' a.s.senting Don replied.

"QUae GENUS, my regards are thine, As sure as my name's ANODYNE.

--If worth lay in a flatt'ring tongue, You would not want a service long; For if you do with caution use it, Where is the ear that will refuse it?

'Tis but the art how to apply The well-conceal'd artillery, And, more or less, the well-told tale Will o'er the pliant mind prevail.

Your int'rest, friend, I'll not neglect, Perhaps do more than you expect; Nay, I e'en may your mind surprise, When I mark how that int'rest lies;-- But 'tis not where your hopes may look, 'Tis not that page in fortune's book.

--The higher folk who come to me Are all involv'd in secrecy: Those who can't walk employ a hack, When they employ the humble quack: Hence, no fine carriages resort About the purlieus of my court, For the rich owners, with their wealth, Blush to pa.s.s this bye-way to health.

Such is proud fas.h.i.+on's powerful rule O'er many a purse-proud, t.i.tled fool: They tell me all their sickness claims, But seem afraid to tell their names.

--There's an old man I sometimes see, And faith he brings a handsome fee, Whose hackney always drops his fare Just by, in the adjoining Square: Where, when we've clos'd our consultation, He hobbles to regain his station.

In a loose coat of common wear, This person chuses to appear; With his round hat and dingy caxon, He calls himself a Mr. Jackson; Though still his manners and his words Are such as highest rank affords: And, sure as I e'er gave a puke, I know the man to be a duke.-- But I, of course, the secret keep, And let his splendid t.i.tles sleep.

--I have two ladies now in hand, Whose whims and fancies I command: They tell of humours on the skin, But then they only shew their chin; No other part they let me see, Such is their bashful fantasy.

They seem to think I doubt their graces, As veils o'erspread their pimpled faces, So that where'er they chuse to show 'em, I do not think that I should know 'em.

Yet by their chat they have betray'd, That one's a wife, and one's a maid: Nor from the names can they refrain Of _Lady Bell_ and _Lady Jane_.

They never fail in their appointments, And are fast curing by my ointments: Thus, from their praise, I hope to claim An added honour to my name.

Nor are these all; for many more } Of wealth and rank pa.s.s through my door; } Though still as I have said before, } They to such aid as mine apply All mask'd in fearful secrecy.

These whims I have explain'd, to prove I cannot in this quarter move; And where I could your worth commend It would degrade you to attend.

But I shall now unfold to view, Another chance I have for you: And let your patience ope its ear To all you are about to hear.

"'Tis not to breathe the tonish air } Of Portland-Place, or Grosv'nor-Square, } Or stand behind her Grace's chair: } 'Tis not to serve the t.i.tled beaux, And flourish in your master' clothes: 'Tis not, as you are wont, to grace Some peopled household's highest place, Though well-accomplish'd as you are, 'Tis chance alone can place you there: For, through your days, you may not boast A master such as you have lost; Nay, your precarious life may end Before a master proves a friend; And, after all, old age may come Without an alms-house for a home.

Think, think in what a woeful plight The man must live who's pocket's light!

Are not his hours by want depress'd?

Penurious care corrodes his breast; Without respect, or love, or friends, His solitary day descends.

O be not led away by pride, But use the means that may provide For future wants, when evils press, And life is pregnant with distress!

Hear me, my friend, nor let surprise With staring looks burst from your eyes, When I, in language frank and free,-- Tell you to come and _live with me_.

"Think not I want you for a hack, A serving menial to a quack; If to my interests you attend, } You will be treated as a friend. } On this be sure you may depend, } That you will find a better station, In profit as in inclination, Than were you hired to be solus Behind the chair of Doctor BOLUS.

--Within a week, perhaps a day, You'll see the part you have to play.

The man I had, whom you have seen, Might still beneath this roof have been, But he by coughing was worn down To a poor gasping skeleton, And 'twere not fit I should endure One in my house I could not cure He would not prove a tempting sign To spread the fame of ANODYNE: But in the time he here remain'd, He had a little fortune gain'd.

--Your knowledge, which I well can trace, } Is far above a servant's place, } And would a higher station grace. } The pleasing manners you possess, Your winning speech and nice address, Might call to your ambitious view, An higher state than you pursue; Though still your savings you might waste, Before you're suited to your taste.

--Such aid as your's I long have wanted, And if my warm proposal's granted, You must at once grow wond'rous dull, Or soon your pocket will be full: Here, in one year, you will get more Than with your n.o.ble lords in four.

Nay, on the honour of a friend, Who no deception can intend, You'll greatly err, if you decline Such an official place as mine.

--I'll teach you how to cup and bleed; These operations you will need; The pulses' movements you shall know, When they are either high or low: While other symptoms of disease I can communicate with ease.

All this, if I the truth discern, Your ready mind will quickly learn.

Besides 'tis right to let you know You'll have no nauseous work to do; For the old woman spreads the blisters, Rolls up the pills and stirs the clysters.

While 'tis my hand alone composes The patients' necessary doses, And your chief care is to dispense These med'cines with your eloquence.

--But I have sick folk to attend, So while away an hour, my friend: And as I trust you'll stay and dine, We'll close our bargain o'er our wine."

CANTO VI

It often happens as we range Through life, an unexpected change, With sudden stroke may pain destroy And turn our thoughts from grief to joy: Or as some shock cuts off relief May turn a flow of joy to grief.

Thus our days' varying system bears Th' alternate play of hopes and fears: Nay, when more pleasant views provoke, May turn our gravity to joke.

Besides, as in the Drama's art, The scene displays the varying part, So apt are we to play the fool, We serve for our own ridicule: And when sly Fortune's pleas'd to vary Our progress with some strange vagary, We oft become such merry elves To burst with laughter at ourselves.

Thus as QUae GENUS pac'd the room, Reflecting on the time to come, And all the heap of promis'd good By ANODYNE to be bestow'd; That he was to be cramm'd with wealth, And turn all sickness into health; His fancy, tickled at the thought, He set each serious wish at nought, And laugh'd till his sides seem'd to crack, To think he should become a Quack.

But when he had indulg'd the joke Which this idea might provoke, He thought more gravely of the case And vow'd to take the proffer'd place: At all events, he could but try This self-same scheme of quackery: At least some knowledge he should gain, And knowledge never comes in vain.

Indeed, what harm, if he succeed in The arts of cupping and of bleeding?

The lancet's power to command Might be of use in any hand, And e'en in any hand might save A forlorn suff'rer from the grave; While he might well instructed be In principles of Pharmacy.

He also felt that application Might fit him for a better station; That in some distant country town, He might a _Galen's_ t.i.tle own: Where, if his fortune did not vary, He might strut an Apothecary.

Thus between gravity and smile Conceit play'd its full part the while, Though not without a view to gains Which might reward his present pains: Indeed he knew the means that made 'em, For he had for Sir _Jeffery_ paid 'em: As while for potion, pill and plaister A golden fee awaits the master; He found it was a useful plan, With lesser coin, to fee the man, Who had the means to lift the latch That did the secret wish dispatch; And could th' impatience set to rest Of the more eager, grumbling guest.

--Thus, with lively hope high-season'd, QUae GENUS walk'd about and reason'd; And, in his Pericranium fast, This grave opinion fix'd at last: If not in honour, yet in purse, _He might go further and fare worse_,-- But if no other good were done, There might be sure a world of fun.