¡Descarga A Portrait of Amoret: A Poetic Tribute by R.B. Sheridan - Prof. Martín y más Apuntes en PDF de Teatro solo en Docsity! A Portrait Addressed to Mrs. Crewe, with the Comedy of the School for Scandal, By R. B. Sheridan, Esq. TELL me, ye prim adepts in Scandal’s school, Who rail by precept, and detract by rule, Lives there no character, so tried, so known, So decked with grace, and so unlike your own, That even you assist her fame to raise, 5 Approve by envy, and by silence praise! Attend!—a model shall attract your view— Daughters of calumny, I summon you! You shall decide if this a portrait prove, Or fond creation of the Muse and Love. 10 Attend, ye virgin critics, shrewd and sage, Ye matron censors of this childish age, Whose peering eye and wrinkled front declare A fixed antipathy to young and fair; By cunning, cautious; or by nature, cold, 15 In maiden madness, virulently bold!— Attend, ye skilled to coin the precious tale, Creating proof, where innuendos fail! Whose practised memories, cruelly exact, Omit no circumstance, except the fact!— 20 Attend, all ye who boast,—or old or young,— The living libel of a slanderous tongue! So shall my theme as far contrasted be, As saints by fiends, or hymns by calumny. Come, gentle Amoret (for ’neath that name 25 In worthier verse is sung thy beauty’s fame); Come—for but thee who seeks the Muse? and while Celestial blushes check thy conscious smile, With timid grace, and hesitating eye, The perfect model, which I boast, supply:— 30 Vain Muse! couldst thou the humblest sketch create Of her, or slightest charm couldst imitate— Could thy blest strain in kindred colours trace The faintest wonder of her form and face— Poets would study the immortal line, 35 And Reynolds own his art subdued by thine; That art, which well might added lustre give To Nature’s best, and Heaven’s superlative: On Granby’s cheek might bid new glories rise, Or point a purer beam from Devon’s eyes! 40 Hard is the task to shape that beauty’s praise, Whose judgment scorns the homage flattery pays! But praising Amoret we cannot err, No tongue o’ervalues Heaven, or flatters her! Yet she by Fate’s perverseness—she alone 45 Would doubt our truth, nor deem such praise her own. Adorning fashion, unadorned by dress, Simple from taste, and not from carelessness; Discreet in gesture, in deportment mild, Not stiff with prudence, nor uncouthly wild: 50 No state has Amoret; no studied mien; She frowns no goddess, and she moves no queen. The softer charm that in her manner lies Is framed to captivate, yet not surprise; It justly suits the expression of her face,— 55 ’Tis less than dignity, and more than grace! On her pure cheek the native hue is such, That, formed by Heaven to be admired so much, The hand divine, with a less partial care, Might well have fixed a fainter crimson there, 60 And bade the gentle inmate of her breast— Inshrinèd Modesty—supply the rest. But who the peril of her lips shall paint? Strip them of smiles—still, still all words are faint. But moving Love himself appears to teach 65 Their action, though denied to rule her speech; And thou who seest her speak, and dost not hear, Mourn not her distant accents ’scape thine ear; Viewing those lips, thou still may’st make pretence To judge of what she says, and swear ’tis sense: 70 Clothed with such grace, with such expression fraught, They move in meaning, and they pause in thought! But dost thou farther watch, with charmed surprise, The mild irresolution of her eyes, Curious to mark how frequent they repose, 75 In brief eclipse and momentary close— Ah! seest thou not an ambushed Cupid there, Too timorous of his charge, with jealous care Veils and unveils those beams of heavenly light, Too full, too fatal else, for mortal sight? 80 Nor yet, such pleasing vengeance fond to meet, In pardoning dimples hope a safe retreat. What though her peaceful breast should ne’er allow Subduing frowns to arm her altered brow, By Love, I swear, and by his gentle wiles, 85 More fatal still the mercy of her smiles! Thus lovely, thus adorned, possessing all Of bright or fair that can to woman fall, The height of vanity might well be thought Prerogative in her, and Nature’s fault. 90
