The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq

THE

WIFE OF BATH.

From CHAUCER.

EHOLD the woes of matrimonial life,

Band Lear thit Woes of main experienc'd wife!

To dear-bought wisdom give the credit due,
And think, for once, a woman tells you true.
In all these trials I have borne a part,

I was myself the fcourge that caus'd the fmart;
For, fince fifteen, in triumph have I led
Five captive husbands from the church to bed.

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Christ saw a wedding once, the Scripture fays; And faw but one, 'tis thought, in all his days; 10 Whence fome infer, whofe confcience is too nice, No pious Chriftian ought to marry twice.

But let them read, and folve me, if they can, The words addrefs'd to the Samaritan:

Five times in lawful wedlock fhe was join'd; 15 And fure the certain flint was ne'er defin'd. Increafe and multiply, was Heav'n's command, And that's a text I clearly understand.

This too, " Let men their fires and mothers leave

"And to their dearer wives for ever cleave."
More wives than one by Solomon were try'd,
Or elfe the wifeft of mankind's bely'd.
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VOL. II.

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I've

fit;

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I've had myself full many a merry
And truft in Heav'n I may have many yet.
For when my tranfitory spouse, unkind,
Shall die, and leave his woeful wife behind,
I'll take the next good Chriftian I can find.
Paul, knowing one could never ferve our turn,
Declar'd 'twas better far to wed than burn.
There's danger in aflembling fire and tow;
I grant 'em that, and what it means you know.
The fame apoitle too has elsewhere own'd,
No precept for virginity he found :

'Tis but a counfel- and we women ftill
Take which we like, the counfel, or our will.
I envy not their blifs, if he or she

Think fit to live in perfect chastity;

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Pure let them be, and free from taint or vice;
I, for a few flight fpots, am not so nice.
Heav'n calls us diff'rent ways, on these bestows 40
One proper gift, another grants to those :
Not ev'ry man's oblig❜d to fell his store,
And give up all his fubftance to the poor;
Such as are perfect, may, I can't deny;
But, by your leaves, divines, fo am not I.
Full many a faint, fince first the world began,
Liv'd an unfpotted maid, in spite of man:
Let fuch (a God's name) with fine wheat be fed,
And let us honeft wives eat barley-bread.

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For me, I'll keep the poft affign'd by Heav'n, 50
And use the copious talent it has giv❜n:

Let my good spouse pay tribute, do me right,
And keep an equal reck'ning ev'ry night:
His proper body is not his, but mine;
For fo faid Paul, and Paul's a found divine.

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Know

Know then, of those five husbands I have had, Three were just tolerable, two were bad. The three were old; but rich, and fond befide, And toil'd most piteously to please their bride: But fince their wealth (the best they had) was mine, The rest, without much loss, I could refign. 61 Sure to be lov'd, I took no pains to please, Yet had more pleasure far than they had ease. Presents flow'd in a-pace: with how'rs of gold They made their court, like Jupiter of old, If I but fmil'd, a fudden youth they found, And a new palfey feiz'd them when I frown'd. Ye fov'reign wives! give ear, and understand, Thus fhall ye fpeak, and exercise command. For never was it giv'n to mortal man, To lie fo boldly as we women can:

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Forfwear the fact, though feen with both his eyes, And call your maids to witness how he lies.

Hark, old Sir Paul; ('twas thus I us'd to fay); Whence is our neighbour's wife fo rich and gay? Treated, carefs'd, where'er fhe's pleas'd to roam--I fit in tatters, and immur'd at home.

Why to her house doft thou so oft repair?
Art thou so am'rous? and is the fo fair?
If I but fee a coufin or a friend,

Lord! how you fwell, and rage like any fiend!
But you reel home, a drunken beastly bear,
Then preach till midnight in your eafy chair;
Cry, wives are falfe, and ev'ry woman evil,
And give up all that's female to the devil.

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If poor, (you fay,) she drains her husband's purse; If rich, he keeps her priest, or fomething worfe If highly born, intolerably vain, Vapours and pride by turns poffefs her brain,

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Now

Now gaily mad, now fourly fplenetic,
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Freakish when well, and fretful when she's fick:
If fair, then chafte the cannot long abide,
By preffing youth attack'd on ev'ry fide;
If foul, her wealth the lufty lover lures,
Or elfe her wit fome fool-gallant procures,
Or elfe the dances with becoming grace,
Or fhape excufes the defects of face.
There fwims no goofe fo gray, but foon or late
She finds fome honeft gander for her mate.

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Horfes (thou fay'ft) and affes, men may try, And ring fufpected veffels ere they buy: But wives a random choice, untry'd they take, They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake: Then, not till then, the veil's remov'd away, And all the woman glares in open day.

105 You tell me, to preferve your wife's good grace, Your eyes must always languifh on my face, Your tongue with conftant flatt'ries feed my ear, And tag each fentence with, My life! my dear! If, by ftrange chance, a modeft blush be rais'd, Be fure my fine complexion must be prais'd. 111 My garments always must be new and gay, And feafts ftill kept upon my wedding-day. Then muft my nurse be pleas'd, and fav'rite maid; And endless treats, and endless vifits paid, To a long train of kindred, friends, allies; All this thou fay'ft, and all thou fay'ft are lies. On Jenkin too you caft a fquinting eye: What! can your 'prentice raise your jealoufy? Fresh are his ruddy cheeks, his forehead fair, 120 And like the burnifh'd gold his curling hair. But clear thy wrinkled brow, and quit thy forrow, I'd fcorn your 'prentice, fhould you die to-morrow.

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Why

Books

The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: In Eight Volumes, Complete, with ..., 2. köide