Analysis of Tale XVIII



Counter and Clubb were men in trade, whose pains,
Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains;
Partners and punctual, every friend agreed
Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed.
When they had fix'd some little time in life,
Each thought of taking to himself a wife:
As men in trade alike, as men in love,
They seem'd with no according views to move;
As certain ores in outward view the same,
They show'd their difference when the magnet came.
Counter was vain: with spirit strong and high,
'Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh:
'His wife might o'er his men and maids preside,
And in her province be a judge and guide;
But what he thought, or did, or wish'd to do,
She must not know, or censure if she knew;
At home, abroad, by day, by night, if he
On aught determined, so it was to be:
How is a man,' he ask'd, 'for business fit,
Who to a female can his will submit?
Absent a while, let no inquiring eye
Or plainer speech presume to question why:
But all be silent; and, when seen again,
Let all be cheerful--shall a wife complain?
Friends I invite, and who shall dare t'object,
Or look on them with coolness or neglect?
No! I must ever of my house be head,
And, thus obey'd, I condescend to wed.'
Clubb heard the speech--'My friend is nice, said

he;
A wife with less respect will do for me:
How is he certain such a prize to gain?
What he approves, a lass may learn to feign,
And so affect t'obey till she begins to reign;
A while complying, she may vary then,
And be as wives of more unwary men;
Beside, to him who plays such lordly part,
How shall a tender creature yield her heart;
Should he the promised confidence refuse,
She may another more confiding choose;
May show her anger, yet her purpose hide,
And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride.
In one so humbled, who can trace the friend?
I on an equal, not a slave, depend;
If true, my confidence is wisely placed,
And being false, she only is disgraced.'
Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye around;
And one so easy soon a partner found.
The lady chosen was of good repute;
Meekness she had not, and was seldom mute;
Though quick to anger, still she loved to smile,
And would be calm if men would wait a while:
She knew her duty, and she loved her way,
More pleased in truth to govern than obey;
She heard her priest with reverence, and her spouse
As one who felt the pressure of her vows;
Useful and civil, all her friends confess'd -
Give her her way, and she would choose the best;
Though some indeed a sly remark would make -
Give it her not, and she would choose to take.
All this, when Clubb some cheerful months had

spent,
He saw, confess'd, and said he was content.
Counter meantime selected, doubted, weigh'd,
And then brought home a young complying maid;
A tender creature, full of fears as charms,
A beauteous nursling from its mother's arms;
A soft, sweet blossom, such as men must love,
But to preserve must keep it in the stove:
She had a mild, subdued, expiring look -
Raise but the voice, and this fair creature shook;
Leave her alone, she felt a thousand fears -
Chide, and she melted into floods of tears;
Fondly she pleaded, and would gently sigh,
For very pity, or she knew not why;
One whom to govern none could be afraid -
Hold up the finger, this meek thing obey'd;
Her happy husband had the easiest task -
Say but his will, no question would she ask;
She sought no reasons, no affairs she knew,
Of business spoke not, and had nought to do.
Oft he exclaim'd, 'How meek! how mild! how kind!
With her 'twere cruel but to seem unkind;
Though ever silent when I take my leave,
It pains my heart to think how hers will grieve;
'Tis heaven on earth with such a wife to dwell,
I am in raptures to have sped so well;
But let me not, my friend, your envy raise,
No! on my life, your patience has my praise.'
His Friend, though silent, felt the scorn

implied -
'What need of patience?' to himself he cried:
'Better a woman o'er her house to rule,
Than a poor child just hurried from her school;
Who has no care, yet never lives at ease;
Unfit to rule, and indisposed to please.
What if he govern, there his boast should end;
No husband's power can make a slave his friend.'
It was the custom of these Friends to meet
With a few neighbours in a neighbouring street;
Where Counter ofttimes would occasion seize
To move his silent Friend by words like these:
'A man,' said he, 'if govern'd by his wife,
Gives up his rank and dignity in life;
N


Scheme Text too long
Poetic Form
Metre 1001010111 1001011101 100100100101 1001011101 1111110101 1111010101 1101011101 1111010111 1101010101 11110010101 1011110101 110111111 11110110101 0001010101 1111111111 1111110111 1101111111 1101011111 1101111101 110111101 10011101001 1101011101 1111001101 1111010101 11010111110 1111110101 1111011111 010110111 110111111 1 0111011111 1111010111 1101011111 0101101110111 0101011101 0111110101 011111111 1101010101 1101010001 1101010101 1101010101 0111000111 0111011101 1111010101 1111001101 0101110101 1111011101 0111010101 0101011101 111101101 1111011111 0111111101 1101001101 1101110101 11011100001 1111010101 1001010101 1001011101 1101010111 1101011111 111111011 1 1101011110 101010101 0111010101 0101011111 01111101 0111011111 1101111001 1101010101 1101011101 1001110101 1011001111 1011001101 1101011111 1111011101 1101011101 01010101001 1111110111 1111010111 1101101111 1101111111 1011011101 1101011111 1111111011 11011110111 110111111 1111111101 1111110111 11110101 01 1111010111 10010100111 1011110101 1111110111 01110111 1111011111 11010110111 1101011111 10110011 110110101 1111011111 0111110111 1111010001 1
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 4,346
Words 848
Sentences 25
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 29, 32, 29, 15
Lines Amount 105
Letters per line (avg) 32
Words per line (avg) 8
Letters per stanza (avg) 847
Words per stanza (avg) 210
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

4:18 min read
82

George Crabbe

 · 1754 · Aldborough
 · 1832 · Trowbridge

George Crabbe was an English poet, surgeon, and clergyman. more…

All George Crabbe poems | George Crabbe Books

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