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What tho' this King (as ancient story boasts)
Whofe reign indulgent God, fays holy writ,
Your idle wits, and all their learned lyes.
By heav'n, those authors are our fex's foes,
Whom, in our right, I muft and will oppofe.
That this much-injur'd Knight again should see :
And fo has mine (fhe faid) — I am a Queen :705 Her answer fhe fhall have, I undertake;
And thus an end of all dispute I make.
We leave them here in this heroic ftrain,
Who in the garden, with his lovely May,
Thus finging as he went, at laft he drew
By easy steps, to where the Pear-tree grew :
With all my foul, he thus reply'd again,
Now prove your patience, gentle ladies all! 740 Nor let on me your heavy anger fall:
'Tis truth I tell, tho' not in phrase refin'd;
Tho' blunt my tale, yet honeft is
In that nice moment, lo! the wond'ring knight Look'd out, and stood reftor'd to sudden fight. Strait on the tree his eager eyes he bent, As one whofe thoughts were on his spouse intent; But when he faw his bofom-wife fo drefs'd, His rage was fuch as cannot be exprefs'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? 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, whofe crime was too much love? 765 If this be ftruggling, by this holy light,
'Tis ftruggling with a vengeance (quoth the Knight)
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.
Guard me, good Angels! cry'd the gentle May, Pray heav'n, this magic work the proper way! Alas, my love! 'tis certain, could you fee, You ne'er had us'd thefe killing words to me: 775 So help me, fates, as 'tis no perfect fight, 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 thofe pow'rs, fome frenzy feiz'd you mind,
The Knight was touch'd; and in his looks appear'd Signs of remorfe, while thus his spouse he chear'd. Madam, 'tis paft, and my fhort anger o'er; Come down, and vex your tender heart no more: Excufe me, dear, if aught amifs was said, 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.
But till your fight's establish'd for a while,
Then, Sir, be cautious, nor too rafhly deem; 80; Heav'n knows how feldom things are what they feem!
Confult your reafon, and you foon fhall find
"Twas you were jealous, not your wife unkind: Jove ne'er spoke oracle more true than this, None judge fo wrong as those who think amifs.810
With that she leap'd into her Lord's embrace,
With well-diffembled virtue in her face.
He hugg'd her close, and kiss'd her o'er and o'er,
Thus ends our tale, whose moral next to make,
pray, to crown the pleasure of their lives, To be fo well deluded by their wives.