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I vow'd, I scarce could fleep fince first I knew him, And durft be fworn he had bewitch'd me to him; If e'er I flept, I dream'd of him alone,
And dreams foretell, as learned men have shown:
Thus day by day, and month by month we past;
I (to fay truth) was twenty more than he;
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
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 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 ftruck me on the face; 335
And knew full well to raise my voice on high;
And would be fo, in spite of all he swore. 340
Tell how the Roman matrons led their life,
Oft would he fay, who builds his houfe on fands,
My spouse (who was, you know, to learning bred) A certain treatise oft at ev'ning read, 356 Where divers Authors (whom the dev'l confound For all their lyes) were in one volume bound. Valerius, whole: and of St. Jerome part;
Chryfippus and Tertullian, Ovid's Art,
Solomon's proverbs, Eloïfa's loyes;
And many more than fure the Church approves,
Those play the scholars who can't play the men,
It chanc'd my husband, on a winter's night, Read in this book, aloud, with strange delight, How the first female (as the fcriptures fhow) Brought her own spouse and all his race to woe. How Samfon fell; and he whom Dejanire 381 Wrap'd in th' envemon'd shirt, and set on fire. How curs'd Eryphile her lord betray'd,
And the dire ambust Clytemnestra laid.
But what most pleas'd him was the Cretan dame,
A fatal Tree was growing in his land,
On which three wives fucceffively had twin'd 395 A fliding noose, and waver'd in the wind.
Where grows this plant (reply'd the friend) oh
For better fruit did never orchard bear.
Give me fome flip of this moft blissful tree,
Then how two wives their lord's 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.
How some with swords 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. 410 Long time I heard, and fwell'd, and blush'd, and frown'd;
But when no end of thefe vile tales I found, When still 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, 415 And with one buffet fell'd him on the floor.