« EelmineJätka »
I've had myself full many a merry fit;
I'll take the next good Christian I can find. n? Paul, knowing one could never serve our turn, Declar'd 'twas better far to wed than burn.
There's danger in assembling fire and tow; 30
1 envy not their bliss, if he or she
45 Full many a faint, fince first the world began, Liv'd an unspotted maid, in spite of man: Let such (a God's name) with fine wheat be fed, And let us honest wives eat barley-bread. For me, I'll keep the post asiign’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. 55
Know then, of those five husbands I have had,
Presents flow'd in a-pace: with ow'rs of gold
Ye sov’reign wives! give ear, and understand,
Hark, old Sir Paul; ('twas thus I usd to fay);
8 Lord! how you swell,
If poor, (you say,) ine drains her husband's purse;
Now gaily mad, now sourly splenetic,
Horfes (thou fay'it) and affes, men may try,
You tell me, to preserve your wife's good grace, Your eyes must always languish on my face, Yoar tongue with constant tiatt’ries feed my ear, And tag each sentence with, My life! my
dear! If, by Itrange chance, a modest blush be rais’d, Be sure my fine complexion must be prais’d. III My garments always must be new and gay, And feasts still kept upon my wedding-day. Then must my nurie be pleas’d, and fav’rite maid; And endless treats, and endless viiits paid, 115 To a long train of kindred, friends, allies; All this thou say'ft, and all thou say’lt are lies.
On Jenkin too you cast a squinting eye: What can your 'prentice raise your jealousy? Fresh are his ruddy cheeks, his forehead, fair, 120 And like the burnih'd gold his curling hair. Bat clear tly wrinkled brow, and quit thy forrow, I'd fcorn your 'prentice, should you die to-morrow,
Why Why are thy chests all lock'd ? on what design? Are not thy worldly goods and treasure mine? Sir, I'm' no fool: nor Hall you, by St John, 126 Have goods and body to yourself alone. One you snall quit, in spite of both your eyes---I heed not, I, the bolts, the locks, the spies. If you had wit, you'd say, “Go where you will,
, « Dear spouse, I credit not the tales they tell: “ Take all the freedoms of a marry'd life; 132 I know thee for a virtuous, faithful wife.”. Lord! when you have enough, what need you
How merrily soever others fare?
135 Tho' all the day I give and take delight, Doubt not, sufficient will be left at night. 'Tis but a juit and rational defire, To light a taper at a neighbour's fire.
There's danger too, you think, in rich array, And none can long be modest that are gay. 141 The cat, if you but finge her tabby skin, The chimney keeps, and sits content within; But once grown fleek, will from her corner run, Sport with her tail, and wanton in the fun; 145 She licks her fair round face, and frisks abroad, To show her fur, and to be catterwaw’d.
Lo thus,, my friends, I wrought to my desires These three right ancient venerable fires. I told 'em, Thus you say, and thus you do, 150 And told 'em false, but Jenkin swore 'twas true. 1, like a dog, could bite as well as whine, And first complain’d, whene'er the guilt was mine. I tax'd them oft with wenching and amours, When their weak legs scarce dragg’d 'em out of doors;
And swore, the rambles that I took by night, Were all to spy what damsels they bedight. That colour brought me many hours of mirth; For all this wit is given us from our birth. Heav'n gave to woman the peculiar grace
160 To fpin, to weep, and cully human race. By this nice conduct, and this prudent course, By murm’ring, wheedling, stratagem, and force, I still prevail'd, and would be in the right, Or curtain-lectures made a restless night. 165 If once my husband's arm was o'er my side, What! so familiar with your spouse? I cry'd: I levied first a tax upon his need; Then let him----'twas a nicety indeed! Let all mankind this certain maxim hold, 170 Marry who will, our sex is to be sold. With empty hands taffels
you can lure, But fulsome love for gain we can endure ; For gold we love the impotent and old, And heave, and pant, and kiss, and cling, for gold. Yet with embraces curses oft I mixt,
176 Then kiss'd again, and chid and rail'd betwixt. Well, I may make my will in peace, and die, For not one word in man's arrears am I. To drop a dear dispute I was unable, 180 Ev’n tho’ the Pope himself had sat at table. But when my point was gain'd, then thus I spoke, “ Billy, my dear, how sheepishly you look! “ Approach, my spouse, and let me kiss thy cheek; “ Thou shouldst be always thus, resign’d and meek! “Of Job's great patience fince so oft you preach, “ Well should you practise, who so well can teach, 66 'Tis difficult to do, I must allow, “But I, my dearest, will instruct you how.