426 The Club Room. [APRIL, 



prating about the battle of Vimiera. Megrim, for mercy's sake, spare 

 the ear of my Lord Icicle, you will never thaw it. Shilelah, drink your 

 native whiskey and fall asleep. Silence ! I say ; Lord Friezland's 

 song. 



(Friezland sings.) 



SAPPHICS. 



TO THE GLORY OF CHARLES MATHEWS. 



Prime mimorum ! thou rare mimic Mathews ! 

 Quern jocus circumvolat, blithe as May-day, 

 Te canunt gownsmen giddy, and the grave too, 



All over Oxford ! 



Tu potes proctors, comitesque bull-dogs, 

 Ducere, et red-coats celeres morari; 

 E'en the stern masters tibi blandienti 



Smilingly cedunt ! 



Quin et each high Don, sociique vultu 

 Titter invito 'mid the gay assemblage ; 

 Shouts of applause rise rapid, dum catervas 



Carmine mulces ! 



Tu, merry fellow, velut es levamen 



To the pale forms, whose final doom approaches 



Who cito cor am solio Minerva 



Shuddering shall stand ! 



Fell are her priests ! quum vitulos prehendunt, 



Singulos eheu, lacerant in pieces ; 



Hi tamcn mites sweetlv gaze at Mathews, 



Full of his frolics ! 



Serus in Lunnun redeas, diuque 

 Gratus intersis pojntlo togato, 



Leave the dull Cockneys ; with us be At Home. 



Go it in Oxford ! 



All, in acclamation. Bravo capital you see what a man can do, 

 when he's beyond ear-shot of his wife. Encore. 



Icicle. We must change your name. It may be Vassal among hus- 

 bands ; but among freemen, and the gods of the club-room, it shall be 

 Apollo, or Stentor, or both together. 



Megrim, to Fickle, in close conversation. The fact is, we are driven to 

 the wall. The year sees an end of us ; from its beginning to this 

 hour, every step has been deeper in the mire. The fellows about me are 

 totally restive, with that last characteristic of supereminent absurdity, 

 an idea that they are the cleverest haranguers and every thing else 

 alive. I freely acknowledge that I see no remedy, short of a coalition 

 with the rabble, or a surrender at discretion to the adversary. 



Fickle. But why, in the name of all that's rash, did you suffer your 

 set to bring forward a parcel of measures in which success was impos- 

 sible ? 



Megrim. Why, Sir, am I to be eternally plagued with this cross- 

 examination ? It is not yet lawful to knock out people's brains in the 

 first paragraph of their speeches ; and nothing short of the Act would 

 have stopped them. Could any persuasion on earth silence you ? It 

 would be as easy to stop the Thames from running under London 

 Bridge, as to stop any of my exemplary recruits from blowing 



