'Twas when fresh May her early bloffom 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,
If e'er I laid my husband in his urn,
That he, and only he, fhould ferve my turn. 295
We ftraight ftruck hands, the bargain was agreed;
I ftill have thifts against a time of need:
The mouse that always trufts to one poor hole,
Can never be a moufe of any foul.
I vow'd, I scarce could fleep fince first I knew
And durit 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 followed but my crafty Crony's lore,
Who bid me tell this lie----and twenty more.
Thus day by day, and month by month, we paft;
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 breasts, as wretched widows---must.
Before my face my handkerchief I fpread,
To hide the flood of tears I did
not fhed.
The good man's coffin to the church was borne;
Around, the neighbours, and my clerk too, mourn.
But as he march'd, good gods! he thow'd a pair
Of legs and feet, fo clear, fo ftrong, so fair! 316
Of twenty winters age he feem'd to be;
I (to lay truth) was twenty more than he;
But vig'rous ftill, a lively buxome dame;
And had a wond'rous gift to quench a flame. 520
A conj'rer once, that deeply could divine,
Aflur'd ine, Mars in Taurus was my fign.
As the ftars order'd, fuch my life has been:
Alas, alas, that ever love was fin!
Fair Venus gave me fire, and sprightly grace, 325
And Mars affurance, and a dauntless face.
By virtue of this pow'rful conftellation,
I follow'd always my own inclination.
But to my tale: A month scarce pass'd away, With dance and fong we kept the nuptial day. 330 All I poffefs'd I gave to his command,
My goods and chattles, money, house, and land :
But oft repented, and repent it ftill;
He prov'd a rebel to my fov'reign will:
Nay once, by Heav'n, he struck me on the face; Hear but the fact, and judge yourselves the cafe. Stubborn as any lionefs was I;
And knew full well to raise my voice on high; As true a rambler as I was before,
And would be so, in spite of all he swore.
He against this right fagely would advise,
And old examples fet before my eyes;
Tell how the Roman matrons led their life,
Of Gracchus' mother, and Duilius' wife;
And chofe the fermon, as, befeem'd his wit, 345
With fome grave sentence out of Holy Writ.
Oft would he fay, Who builds his houfe on fands,
Pricks his blind horse across the fallow lands;
Or lets his wife abroad with pilgrims roam,
Deferves a fool's-cap and long ears at home. 350
All this avail'd not: for whoe'er he be
That tells my faults, I hate him mortally:
And fo do numbers more, I'll boldly fay,
Men, women, clergy, regular, and lay.
My spouse (who was, you know, to learning bred) A certain treatife oft at ev'ning read,
Where divers authors (whom the dev'l confound
For all their lies) were in one volume bound.
Valerius, whole; and of St. Jerome, part;
Chryfippus and Tertullian, Ovid's art,
Solomon's proverbs, Eloifa's loves;
And many more than fure the church approves.
More legends were there here, of wicked wives,
Than good, in all the Bible and faints lives.
Who drew the lion vanquiih'd? 'Twas a man, 365
But could we women wiite as scholars can,
Men fhould and mark'd with far more wickedness,
Than all the fons of Adam could redrefs.
Love feldom haunts the breast where learning lies,
And Venus fets ere Mercury can rife.
370
Thofe play the scholars who can't play the men,
And ufe that weapon which they have, their pen;
When old, and paft the relish of delight,
Then down they fit, and in their dotage write, That not one woman keeps her marriage-vow. 375 (This by the way, but to my purpose now).
It chanc'd my husband, on a winter's night, Read in this book, aloud, with ftrange delight, How the first female (as the Scriptures fhow) Brought her own spouse and all his race to woe. How Samfon fell; and he whom Dejanire 381 Wrapp'd in th' invenom'd shirt, and fet on fire. How curs'd Eryphile her lord betray'd, And the dire ambuth Clytemneftra laid.
But what most pleas'd him was the Cretan Dame,
And husband-bull----oh, monstrous! fie for fhame!
He had by heart the whole detail of woe
Xantippe made her good man undergo;
How oft fhe fcolded in a day, he knew,
How many piís-pots on the fage fhe threw;
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 fliding noofe, and waver'd in the wind.
Where grows this plant, (reply'd the friend,) oh
For better fruit did never orchard bear. [where?
Give me fome flip of this moft blissful tree,
And in my garden planted fhall it be.
Then how two wives their lord's deftruction
Thro' hatred one, and one through 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.
How some with fwords their fleeping lords have
flain,
And fome have hammer'd nails into their brain,
And fome have drench'd them with a deadly potion;
All this he read, and read with great devotion.
Long time I heard, and fwell'd, and blush'd, and·
frown'd:
But when no end of thefe vile tales I found;
When fill he read, and laugh'd, and read again,
And half the night was thus confum'd in vain;
Provok'd to vengeance, three large leaves I tore,
And with one buffet fell'd him on the floor. 416
With that my husband in a fury rofe,
And down he fettled me with hearty blows.
I groan'd, and lay extended on my fide;
Oh! thou haft flain me for my wealth, (I cry'd),
Yet I forgive thee----take my last embrace----
He wept, kind foul! and stoop'd to kiss my
I took him fuch a box as turn'd him blue,
Then figh'd, and cry'd, Adieu, my dear, adieu!
But after many a hearty ftruggle past,
I condefcended to be pleas'd at last.
Soon as he faid, My mistress and my wife,
Do what thou lift, the term of all your life:
I took to heart the merits of the cause,
And stood content to rule by wholesome laws; 430
'Receiv'd the reins of abfolute command,
With all the government of house and land,
And empire o'er his tongue, and o'er his hand.
As for the volume that revil'd the dames, 434
'Twas torn to fragments, and condemn'd to flames.
Now Heav'n on all my hufbands gone, bestow
Pleasures above, for tortures felt below:
That reft they wish'd for, grant them in the grave,
And bless thofe fouls my conduct help'd to fave!
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