Pleas'd her best fervant would his courage try,
No lefs in wedlock, than in liberty."
Full many an age old Hymen had not spy'd
So kind a bridegroom, or so bright a bride.
Ye bards! renown'd among the tuneful throng 335
For gentle lays, and joyous nuptial song ;
Think not your fofteft numbers can display
The matchless glories of this blissful day :
The joys are fuch, as far tranfcend your rage,
When tender youth has wedded stooping age.
The beauteous dame fat fmiling at the board,
And darted am'rous glances at her Lord.
Not Hefter's felf, whose charms the Hebrews fing,
E'er look'd fo lovely on her Perfian King:
Bright as the rifing fun, in fummer's day,
And fresh and blooming as the month of May!
The joyful Knight furvey'd her by his fide,
Nor envy'd Paris with the Spartan bride :
Still as his mind revolv'd with vaft delight
Th' entrancing raptures of th' approaching night, 350 Reftlefs he fate, invoking ev'ry pow'r
To speed his bliss, and hafte the happy hour.
Meantime the vig'rous dancers beat the ground,
And fongs were fung, and flowing bowls went round.
With od❜rous fpices they perfum'd the place,
And mirth and pleasure thone in ev'ry face.
Damian alone, of all the menial train,
Sad in the midst of triumphs, figh'd for pain;
Damian alone, the Knight's obfequious fquire,
Confum'd at heart, and fed a fecret fire.
His lovely Mistress all his foul poffefs'd,
He look'd, he languish'd, and could take no reft:
His task perform'd, he fadly went his way,
Fell on his bed, and loath'd the light of day.
There let him lie; till his relenting dame
Weep in her turn, and waste in equal flame.
The weary fun, as learned Poets write,
Forfook th' Horizon, and roll'd down the light;
While glitt'ring stars his absent beams supply,
And night's dark mantle overspread the sky.
Then rose the guests; and as the time requir'd,
Each paid his thanks, and decently retir'd.
The foe once gone, our Knight prepar'd t' undrefs,
So keen he was, and eager to poffefs:
But first thought fit th' affiftance to receive,
Which grave Physicians scruple not to give;
Satyrion near, with hot Eringos flood,
Cantharides, to fire the lazy blood,
Whose use old Bards defcribe in luscious rhymes,
And Critics learn'd explain to modern times.
By this the fheets were fpread, the bride undress`d,
The room was fprinkled, and the bed was blefs'd.
What next enfu'd befeems not me to say;
'Tis fung, he labour'd till the dawning day,
Then brifkly fprung from bed, with heart fo light,
As all were nothing he had done by night;
And fip'd his cordial as he fat upright.
He kifs'd his balmy fpoufe with wanton play,
And feebly fung a lufty roundelay :
Then on the couch his weary limbs he cast;
For ev'ry labour must have rest at last.
But anxious cares the penfive Squire opprefs'd,
Sleep fled his eyes, and peace forfook his breaft ;
The raging flames that in his bofom dwell,
He wanted art to hide, and means to tell.
Yet hoping time th' occcafion might betray,
Compos'd a fonnet to the lovely May;
Which writ and folded with the niceft art,
He wrapp'd in filk, and laid upon his heart.
When now the fourth revolving day was run,
('Twas June, and Cancer had receiv'd the fun)
Forth from her chamber came the beauteous bride;
The good old Knight mov'd flowly by her fide.
High mass was fung; they feafted in the hall;
The fervants round stood ready at their call.
The Squire alone was absent from the board,
And much his fickness griev'd his worthy Lord,
Who pray'd his spouse, attended with her train,
To vifit Damian, and divert his pain.
Th' obliging dames obey'd with one confent ;
They left the hall, and to his lodging went.
The female tribe surround him as he lay,
And close befide him fat the gentle May:
Where, as fhe try'd his pulfe, he foftly drew
A heaving figh, and caft a mournful view!
Then gave his bill, and brib'd the pow'rs divine,
With fecret vows, to favour his design.
Who ftudies now but discontented May?
On her foft couch uneafily fhe lay:
The lumpish husband fnor'd away the night,
'Till coughs awak'd him near the morning light.
What then he did, I'll not presume to tell,
Nor if the thought herself in heav'n or hell:
Honeft and dull in nuptial bed they lay,
Till the bell toll'd, and all arofe to pray.
Were it by forceful destiny decreed,
Or did from chance, or nature's pow'r proceed;
Or that some star, with afpect kind to love,
Shed its felecteft influence from above;
Whatever was the caufe, the tender dame
Felt the first motions of an infant flame;
Receiv'd th' impressions of the love-fick Squire,,
And wasted in the foft infectious fire:
Ye fair, draw near, let May's example move
Your gentle minds to pity thofe who love!
Had fome fierce tyrant in her ftead been found,
The poor adorer fure had hang'd, or drown'd:
But fhe, your fex's mirrour, free from pride,
Was much too meek to prove a homicide.
But to my tale: Some fages have defin'd Pleasure the fov'reign blifs of humankind: Our Knight (who fludy'd much, we may fuppofe) Deriv'd his high philofophy from those ; For, like a prince, he bore the vast expence Of lavish pomp, and proud magnificence: His house was stately, his retinue gay, Large was his train, and gorgeous his array. His fpacious garden made to yield to none, Was compafs'd round with walls of folid ftone; Priapus could not half defcribe the grace (Tho' God of gardens) of this charming place: A place to tire the rambling wits of France In long defcriptions, and exceed Romance; Enough to fhame the gentleft bard that fings Of painted meadows, and of purling fprings. Full in the centre of the flow'ry ground, A crystal fountain fpread its ftreams around, The fruitful banks with verdant laurels crown'd: About this fpring (if ancient fame fay true) The dapper Elves their moon-light sports pursue: 460 Their pigmy king, and little fairy queen, In circling dances gambol'd on the green, While tuneful fprites a merry concert made, And airy mufic warbled thro' the shade.
Hither the noble knight would oft repair, (His fcene of pleasure, and peculiar care) For this he held it dear, and always bore The filver key that lock'd the garden-door.
To this fweet place in fummer's fultry heat,
He us'd from noife and bus'nefs to retreat;
And here in dalliance spend the live-long day,
Solus cum fola, with his fprightly May.
For whate'er work was undifcharg`d a-bed,
The duteous knight in this fair garden sped.
But ah! what mortal lives of blifs fecure?
How fhort a space our worldly joys endure?
O Fortune, fair, like all thy treach'rous kind,
But faithless still, and wav'ring as the wind!
O painted monfter, form'd mankind to cheat,
With pleafing poison, and with foft deceit!
This rich, this am'rous, venerable knight,
Amidst his eafe, his folace, and delight,
Struck blind by thee, refigns his days to grief,
And calls on death, the wretch's last relief.
The rage of jealoufy then feiz'd his mind,
For much he fear'd the faith of womankind.
His wife not fuffer'd from his fide to ftray,
Was captive kept, he watch'd her night and day,
Abridg'd her pleasures, and confin'd her fway.
Full oft in tears did hapless May complain,
And figh'd full oft; but figh'd and wept in vain :
She look'd on Damian with a lover's eye,
For oh, 'twas fix'd; fhe muft poffefs or die!
Nor less impatience vex'd her am'rous Squire,
Wild with delay, and burning with defire.
Watch'd as she was, yet could he not refrain
By fecret writing to disclose his pain:
The dame by figns reveal'd her kind intent,
Till both were confcious what each other meant.
Ah, gentle Knight, what would thy eyes avail, 500
Tho' they could fee as far as ships can fail ?
'Tis better, fure, when blind, deceiv'd to be,
Than be deluded when a man can see !
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