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Strait on the tree his eager eyes he bent,
As one whose thoughts were on his spouse intent;
But when he saw his bofom-wife so drefs'd, 751
His rage was such as cannot be express'd:
Not frantic mothers when their infants die,
With louder clamours rend the vaulted sky:
He cry'd, he roar'd,he ftorm'd, he tore his hair;
Death! hell! and furies! what doft thou do there?
What ails my lord? the trembling dame reply'd;
I thought your patience had been better try'd:
Is this your love, ungrateful and unkind,
This my reward for having cur'd the blind? 760
Why was I taught to make my husband fee,
By struggling with a Man upon a Tree?
Did I for this the pow'r of magic prove?
Unhappy wife, whose crime was too much love!
If this be struggling, by this holy light, 765
'Tis ftruggling with a vengeance(quoth theKnight)
So heav'n preserve the fight it has restor❜d,
As with these eyes I plainly faw thee whor'd;
Whor'd by my flave --- perfidious wretch! may hell
As furely feize thee, as I faw too well. 770
Guard me, good Angels! cry'd the gentle May,
Pray heav'n, this magic work the proper way!
love! 'tis certain, could you fee, You ne'er had us'd these killing words to me: So help me, fates, as 'tis no perfect fight, 775 But fome faint glimm'ring of a doubtful light. What I have faid (quoth he) I must maintain, For by th' immortal pow'rs it feem'd too plain By all those pow'rs, fome frenzy feiz'd your mind,
(Reply'd the dame) are these the thanks I find?
Wretch that I am, that e'er I was fo kind! 781
She faid; a rifing figh express'd her woe,
The ready tears apace began to flow,
And as they fell fhe wip'd from either eye
The drops (for women, when they lift,can cry.) 785
The Knight was touch'd; and in his looks appear'ḍ
Signs of remorfe, while thus his spouse he chear'd.
Madam, 'tis paft, and my short anger o'er;
Come down, and vex your tender heart no more:
Excufe me, dear, if aught amiss was said, 790
For, on my foul, amends fhall foon be made:
Let my repentance your forgiveness draw,
By heav'n, I fwore but what I thought I faw.
Ah my lov'd lord! 'twas much unkind (she cry’d)
On bare fufpicion thus to treat your bride. 795
But till your fight's establish'd for a while,
Imperfect objects may your sense beguile.
Thus when from fleep we firft our eyes difplay,
The balls are wounded with the piercing ray,
And dusky vapours rife, and intercept the day. So just recov❜ring from the shades of night, 801 Your swimming eyes are drunk with fudden light, Strange phantoms dance around, and fkim before your fight:
Then, Sir, be cautious, nor too rafhly deem; Heav'n knows how feldom things are what they
Confult your reafon, and you foon fhall find
'Twas you were jealous, not your wife unkind:
Jove ne'er fpoke oracle more true than this,
None judge fo wrong as those who think amifs.
With that she leap'd into her Lord's embrace, With well-diffembled virtue in her face. He hugg'd her clofe, and kiss'd her o'er and o'er, Disturb'd with doubts and jealoufies no more: Both, pleas'd and bless'd,renew'd their mutual vows, A fruitful wife, and a believing spouse.
Thus ends our tale, whofe moral next to make, Let all wife husbands hence example take;
pray, to crown the pleasure of their lives, To be fo well deluded by their wives.