« EelmineJätka »
You tell me, to preserve your wife's good grace, Your eyes must always languish on my face, Your tongue with constant flatteries feed my
And tag each sentence with My life! my dear!
And endless treats and endless visits paid
Why are thy chests all lock'd? on what design? Are not thy worldly goods and treasure mine? Sir, I'm no fool; nor shall you, by St. John, Have goods and body to yourself alone. One you shall 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 married life; I know thee for a virtuous faithful wife.'
Lord! when you have enough, what need you How merrily soever others fare? Though all the day I give and take delight, Doubt not sufficient will be left at night. 'Tis but a just and rational desire 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. The cat, if you but singe her tabby skin, The chimney keeps, and sits content within : But once grown sleek, will from her corner run, Sport with her tail, and wanton in the sun : 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 sires. I told them, Thus you say, and thus you do; And told them false, but Jenkin swore 'twas true. I, 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 them out of doors;
And swore the rambles that I took by night
By this nice conduct and this prudent course,
What! so familiar with your spouse?' I cried: I levied first a tax upon his need; Then let him-'twas a nicety indeed!
Let all mankind this certain maxim hold;
Yet with embraces curses oft I mix'd,
Billy, my dear, how sheepishly you look!
Great is the blessing of a prudent wife,
Their tender husbands, and their passions cool'd.
Thus with my first three lords I pass'd my life, A very woman and a very wife.
What sums from these old spouses I could raise
Wine lets no lover unrewarded go,
As all true gamesters by experience know. But oh, good gods! whene'er a thought I cast = On all the joys of youth and beauty past, To find in pleasures I have had my part, Still warms me to the bottom of my heart. This wicked world was once my dear delight; Now all my conquests, all my charms, good night! The flour consum'd, the best that now I can Is e'en to make my market of the bran.
My fourth dear spouse was not exceeding true; He kept, 'twas thought, a private miss or two: But all that score I paid-As how? you'll say, Not with my body, in a filthy way;
But I so dress'd, and danc'd, and drank, and din'd, And view'd a friend with eyes so very kind, As stung his heart, and made his marrow fry, With burning rage and frantic jealousy. P His soul, I hope, enjoys eternal glory, For here on earth I was his purgatory. Oft, when his shoe the most severely wrung, He put on careless airs, and sat and sung. How sore I gall'd him only heaven could know, And he that felt, and I that caus'd the woe: He died when last from pilgrimage I came, With other gossips, from Jerusalem ; And now lies buried underneath a rood, Fair to be seen, and rear'd of honest wood: A tomb, indeed, with fewer sculptures grac'd Than that Mausolus' pious widow plac'd,