At Sermons too I fhone in fcarlet gay, 'Twas when fresh May her early blossoms yields, This Clerk and I were walking in the fields. 291 We grew fo intimate, I can't tell how, I pawn'd my honour, and engag'd my vow, That he, and only he, fhould ferve my turn. 295 I vow'd, I scarce could fleep fince first I knew him, 300 And durft be fworn he had bewitch'd me to him; If e'er I flept, I dream'd of him alone, And dreams foretel, as learned men have shown: All this I faid; but dreams, Sirs, I had none: I follow'd but my crafty Crony's lore, Who bid me tell this lye---and twenty more. 305 Thus day by day, and month by month we past; It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last. I tore my gown, I foil'd my locks with duft, And beat my breafts, as wretched widows--must. Before my face my handkerchief I fpread, 311 To hide the flood of tears I did---not fhed. The good man's coffin to the Church was born; Around, the neighbours, and my clerk, too, mourn. But as he march'd, good Gods! he fhow'd a pair I (to fay truth) was twenty more than he; But to my tale: A month scarce pafs'd away, With dance and fong we kept the nuptial day. 330 All I poffefs'd I gave to his command, My goods and chattels, money, house, and land : But oft repented, and repent it still; He prov'd a rebel to my fov'reign will : Nay once by heav'n he struck me on the face; 335 Hear but the fact, and judge yourselves the cafe. Stubborn' as any Lioness was I; And knew full well to raise my voice on high; And would be so, in spite of all he swore. 340 Tell how the Roman matrons led their life, bred) A certain treatife oft at ev'ning read, 355 Where divers Authors (whom the dev'l confound For all their lyes) were in one volume bound. Valerius, whole; and of St. Jerome, part; 360 And many more than fure the Church approves. Than all the fons of Adam could redrefs. It chanc'd my husband, on a winter's night, Read in this book, aloud, with strange delight, How the first female (as the Scriptures show) Brought her own spouse and all his race to woe. How Samfon fell; and he whom Dejanire 381 Wrap'd in th' envenom'd shirt, and set on fire. How curs'd Eryphile her lord betray'd, 384 He had by heart, the whole detail of woe Xantippe made her good man undergo; How oft she scolded in a day, he knew, How many pifs-pots on the fage she threw ; 390 Who took it patiently, and wip'd his head; Rain follows thunder: that was all he faid. He read, how Arius to his friend complain'd, A fatal Tree was growing in his land, On which three wives fucceffively had twin'd 395 A sliding noose, and waver'd in the wind. Where grows this plant (reply'd the friend) oh where ? For better fruit did never orchard bear. Give me some flip of this most blissful tree, 400 Then how two wives their lords' deftruction prove, Thro' hatred one, and one thro' too much love; That for her husband mix'd a pois'nous draught, And this for luft an am'rous philtre bought : The nimble juice foon feiz'd his giddy head, 405 Frantic at night, and in the morning dead. |