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The nimble juice soon seiz'd his giddy head,
Frantic at night, and in the morning dead.

405

How some with fwords their fleeping lords have slain, 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 swell'd, and blush'd, and frown'd;
But when no end of these vile tales I found,
When still he read, and laugh'd, and read again,
And half the night was thus consum'd in vain;
Provok'd to vengeance, three large leaves I tore, 415
And with one buffet fell'd him on the floor.
With that, my husband in a fury rose,
And down he fettled me with hearty blows,
I groan'd, and lay extended on my fide;
Oh! thou hast slain me for my wealth (I cry'd) 420
Yet I forgive thee-take my last embrace-
He wept, kind foul! and stoop'd to kiss my face;
I took him such a box as turn'd him blue,
Then sigh'd and cry'd, Adieu, my dear, adieu!

But after many a hearty struggle past,
I condescended to be pleas'd at last.
Soon as he faid, My mistress and my wife,
Do what you lift, the term of all your life :
I took to heart the merits of the cause,
And fstood content to rule by wholesome laws;
Receiv'd the Reins of absolute command,
With all the government of house and land,
And empire o'er his tongue, and o'er his hand.

425

430

}

As for the volume that revil'd the dames, 'Twas torn to fragments, and condemn'd to flames. 435 Now heav'n on all my husbands gone, bestow

Pleasures above, for tortures felt below :

That rest they wish'd for, grant them in the grave,
And bless those fouls my conduct help'd to save!

IMI

IMITATIONS

OF

ENGLISH POETS:

Done by the AUTHOR in his Youth.

N4

IMITATIONS

OF

ENGLISH POETS.

W

I.

CHAUCER.

OMEN ben full of Ragerie,
Yet swinken nat sans secrefie.

Thilke moral shall ye understond,
From Schole-boy's Tale of fayre Irelond:
Which to the Fennes hath him betake,
To filch the gray Ducke fro the Lake.
Right then, there passen by the Way
His Aunt, and eke her Daughters tway.
Ducke in his Trowses hath he hent,
Not to be spied of Ladies gent.
" But ho! our Nephew, (crieth one,)
"Ho! quoth another, Cozen John;
And stoppen, and lough, and callen out,
This sely Clerk full low doth lout:
They asken that, and talken this,

Lo here is Cox, and here is Miss.

5

19

:

15 But,

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