I was some time since in Company with a young Officer, who entertained
us with the Conquest he had made over a Female Neighbour of his; when
a Gentleman who stood by, as I suppose, envying the Captains good
Fortune, asked him what Reason he had to believe the Lady admired him?
Why, says he, my Lodgings are opposite to hers, and she is continually
at her Window either at Work, Reading, taking Snuff, or putting her
self in some toying Posture on purpose to draw my Eyes that Way. The
Confession of this vain Soldier made me reflect on some of my own
Actions; for you must know, Sir, I am often at a Window which fronts
the Apartments of several Gentlemen, who I doubt not have the same
Opinion of me. I must own I love to look at them all, one for being
well dressed, a second for his fine Eye, and one particular one,
because he is the least Man I ever saw; but there is something so
easie and pleasant in the Manner of my little Man, that I observe he
is a Favourite of all his Acquaintance. I could go on to tell you of
many others that I believe think I have encouraged them from my
Window: But pray let me have your Opinion of the Use of the Window in
a beautiful Lady: and how often she may look out at the same Man,
without being supposed to have a Mind to jump out to him. Yours,
Aurelia Careless.
Twice.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
I have for some Time made Love to a Lady, who received it with all
the kind Returns I ought to expect. But without any Provocation, that
I know of, she has of late shunned me with the utmost Abhorrence,
insomuch that she went out of Church last Sunday in the midst of
Divine Service, upon my coming into the same Pew. Pray, Sir, what must
I do in this Business?
Your Servant,
Euphues.
Let her alone Ten Days.
York, Jan. 20, 1711-12.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
We have in this Town a sort of People who pretend to Wit and write
Lampoons: I have lately been the Subject of one of them. The Scribler
had not Genius enough in Verse to turn my Age, as indeed I am an old
Maid, into Raillery, for affecting a youthier Turn than is consistent
with my Time of Day; and therefore he makes the Title to his Madrigal,
The Character of Mrs. Judith Lovebane, born in the Year [1680. [1]]
What I desire of you is, That you disallow that a Coxcomb who pretends
to write Verse, should put the most malicious Thing he can say in
Prose. This I humbly conceive will disable our Country Wits, who
indeed take a great deal of Pains to say any thing in Rhyme, tho they
say it very ill.
I am, SIR,
Your Humble Servant,
Susanna Lovebane.
Mr. SPECTATOR,
We are several of us, Gentlemen and Ladies, who Board in the same
House, and after Dinner one of our Company (an agreeable Man enough
otherwise) stands up and reads your Paper to us all. We are the
civillest People in the World to one another, and therefore I am
forced to this way of desiring our Reader, when he is doing this
Office, not to stand afore the Fire. This will be a general Good to
our Family this cold Weather. He will, I know, take it to be our
common Request when he comes to these Words, Pray, Sir, sit down;
which I desire you to insert, and you will particularly oblige
Your Daily Reader,
Charity Frost.