Clouds, when they intercept our sight,
Deprive us of celestial light:
So when my Chloe I pursue,
No heaven besides I have in view.
Thus, on comparison,[19] you see,
In every instance they agree;
So like, so very much the same,
That one may go by t'other's name.
Let me proclaim[20] it then aloud,
That every woman is a cloud.
[Footnote 1: The following foot-notes, which appear to be Dr. Sheridan's,
are replaced from the Irish edition:]
[Footnote 2: Most ladies, in reading, call this word a _smile_; but they
are to note, it consists of three syllables, si-mi-le. In English, a
likeness.]
[Footnote 3: Not to hurt them.]
[Footnote 4: Not like a gun or pistol.]
[Footnote 5: This is not meant as to shooting, but resolving.]
[Footnote 6: This word is not here to be understood of a bull, but a
cloud, which makes a noise like a bull, when it thunders.]
[Footnote 7: Xanti, a nick-name for Xantippe, that scold of glorious
memory, who never let poor Socrates have one moment's peace of mind; yet
with unexampled patience, he bore her pestilential tongue. I shall beg
the ladies' pardon if I insert a few passages concerning her; and at the
same time I assure them, it is not to lessen those of the present age,
who are possessed of the like laudable talents; for I will confess, that
I know three in the city of Dublin, no way inferior to Xantippe, but that
they have not as great men to work upon.
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