THE famous Talleyrand, who knew The secret of avoiding execution, And kept his head upon his shoulders, through All the convulsions of the Revolution, When heads were cropped by the prevailing powers, Like cauliflowers, Till they themselves endured the keen Infliction of the Guillotine, And made way for another faction, To undergo the same reaction: -- This Talleyrand possessed a wife, Selected in his humbler life -- A rich bourgeois of homely breeding, Neither @3bas bleu,@1 nor @3femme savante,@1 But rather, as I freely grant, Deficient in her general reading. One day -- 'twas when he stood elate, Napoleon's minister of state -- Having invited to his house Some literati to confer With a great foreign traveller, The husband thus addressed his spouse: "My dear, at dinner you will meet A foreigner, a man of note. These authors like that you should quote From their own works; therefore, to greet Our guest, suppose you learn by rote A sentence here and there, that when He prates, like other travelled men, Of his exploits on land and ocean, You may not be completely gravelled, But have at least some little notion Of how, and when, and where he travelled. Take down his book, you'll find it yonder; Its dull contents you need not ponder; Read but the headings of the chapters, Refer to them with praise and wonder, And our vain guest will be in raptures." Madame, resolved to play her part So as to win the stranger's heart, Studied the book; but far from dull, She found it quite delightful; -- full Of marvellous adventures, fraught With perilous escapes, which wrought So deep an interest in her mind, She really was surprised to find, As to the dinner-room she tripped, How rapidly the time had slipped. The more to flatter and delight her, When at the board she took her place, The famous traveller and writer Was seated by her side; -- the grace Was hardly said, or soup sent round, 'Ere with a shrug and a grimace, Eager to show her lore profound, @3A la Francaise,@1 she raised her eyes, And hands, and voice, in ecstacies -- "@3Eh, Monsieur Robinson, mon Dieu, Voila un conte merveilleux! Ah, par exemple!@1 it appals The mind to think of your attacks On those terrific cannibals -- Those horrid savages and blacks, Who, if they once had gained the upper Hand, had eaten you for supper, And so prevented your proceeding With that sweet book I've just been reading. @3Mais, quel bonheur!@1 to liberate Poor FRIDAY from the murderous crew, And gain in your deserted state, So lonely and disconsolate A servant and companion too!" The visitants were all astounded; The stranger stared aghast, dumfounded: Poor Talleyrand blushed red as flame, Till having catechised the dame, The mystery was quickly cleared; The simple woman it appeared, Instead of the intended book In which she had been urged to look, From the same shelf contrived to take Robinson Crusoe by mistake! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DAY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM BY TITUS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ON THE DEATH OF JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK PARTED FRIENDS by JAMES MONTGOMERY BEATRICE by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE AN EVENING HYMN by JOSEPH BEAUMONT HUSBANDMAN'S SONG, FR. KING RENE'S HONEYMOON by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |