Did I for this the power of magic prove?

Unhappy wife, whofe crime was too much love!
If this be struggling, by this holy light,

765

'Tis ftruggling with a vengeance (quoth the Knight) So Heaven preferve the fight it has restor'd,

As with these eyes I plainly faw thee whor'd;

Whor'd by my flave-perfidious wretch! may hell 770
As furely feize thee, as I faw too well.

Guard me, good Angels! cry'd the gentle May,
Pray Heaven, this magic work the proper way!
Alas, my love! 'tis certain, could you fee,
You ne'er had us'd thefe killing words to me:
So help me, Fates, as 'tis no perfect fight,
But fome faint glimmering of a doubtful light.
What I have faid (quoth he) I must maintain,
For by th' immortal powers it feem'd too plain-

775

By all those powers, fome frenzy feiz'd your mind (Reply'd the dame): are these the thanks I find?

Wretch that I am, that e'er I was fo kind!
She faid; a rifing figh exprefs'd her woe,
The ready tears apace began to flow,

And, as they fell, fhe wip'd from either eye

The drops (for women, when they lift, can ery).

785

The Knight was touch'd, and in his looks appear'd Signs of remorfe, while thus his spouse he chear'd: Madam, 'tis paft, and my fhort anger o'er;

Come down, and vex your tender heart no more:
Excufe me, dear, if aught amifs was said,
Fór, on my foul, amends fhall foon be made :

790

Let

Let my repentance your forgiveness draw,

By Heaven, I fwore but what I thought I saw.

Ah, my lov'd lord! 'twas much unkind (the cry'd) On bare fufpicion thus to treat your bride.

800

But, till your fight's establish'd, for a while,
Imperfect objects may your fenfe beguile.
Thus when from sleep we firft our eyes display,
The balls are wounded with the piercing ray,
And dufky vapours rife, and intercept the day.
So, juft recovering from the fhades of night,
Your swimming eyes are drunk with sudden light,
Strange phantoms dance around, and fkim before
your fight:

Then, Sir, be cautious, nor too rafhly deem;

805

Heaven knows how seldom things are what they seem! Confult your reason, and you soon shall find

'Twas you were jealous, not your wife unkind : Jove ne'er spoke oracle more true than this,

None judge fo wrong as those who think amifs.
With that she leap'd into her Lord's embrace,
With well-diffembled virtue in her face.

He hugg'd her close, and kiss'd her o'er and o'er,
Disturb'd with doubts and jealoufies no more:

810

Both, pleas'd and bless'd, renew'd their mutual vows, A fruitful wife, and a believing spouse.

Thus ends our tale; whofe moral next to make,

Let all wife husbands hence example take;

And pray, to crown the pleasure of their lives,
To be fo well deluded by their wives.

820

THE

THE

WIFE OF BATH

B

HER PROLOGUE,

FROM

CHAUCER.

EHOLD the woes of matrimonial life,
And hear with reverence an experienc'd wife!
To dear-bought wisdom give the credit due,
And think, for once, a woman tells you true.
In all these trials I have borne a part,

I was myself the fcourge that caus'd the fiart;
For, fince fifteen, in triumph have I led
Five captive Hufbands from the Church to bed.

Chrift faw a wedding once, the Scripture fays,
And faw but one, 'tis thought, in all his days;
Whence fome infer, whofe confcience is too nice,
No pious Christian ought to marry twice.

But let them read, and folve me, if they can, The words addrefs'd to the Samaritan:

Five times in lawful wedlock fhe was join'd;

And fure the certain ftint was ne'er defin'd.

15

"Encrease and multiply," was Heaven's command,

And that's a text I clearly understand.

This too, "Let men their fires and mothers leave,

And to their dearer wives for ever cleave."

20

More

More wives than one by Solomon were try'd,
Or else the wifeft of mankind's bely'd.
I've had myself full many a merry fit;
And truft in heaven, I may have many yet,
For when my transitory spouse, unkind,
Shall die, and leave his woeful wife behind,
I'll take the next good Chriftian I can find.

Paul, knowing one could never ferve our turn,
Declar'd 'twas better far to wed than burn.
There's danger in assembling fire and tow;

30

I grant them that, and what it means you know.
The fame apostle too has elsewhere own'd,

No precept for Virginity he found

'Tis but a counfel-and we women still

Take which we like, the counfel, or our will.

35

I envy not their blifs, if he or she

Think fit to live in perfect chastity;

Pure let them be, and free from taint of vice;

I, for a few flight spots, am not so nice;
Heaven calls us different ways, on these bestows
One proper gift, another grants to those :

Not every man's oblig'd to fell his store,
And give up all his fubftance to the poor;
Such as are perfect may, I can't deny;
But, by your leaves, Divines, fo am not I.

40

45

Full many a Saint, fince firft the world began,

Liv'd an unspotted Maid, in fpite of man:

Let fuch (a-God's name) with fine wheat be fed,
And let us honeft wives eat barley bread.

For me, I'll keep the poft affign'd by heaven,
And ufe the copious talent it has given:

50

Let

Let my good spouse pay tribute, do me right,
And keep an equal reckoning every night.
His proper body is not his, but mine;
For fo faid Paul, and Paul's a found divine.

Know then, of thofe five husbands I have had,
Three were just tolerable, two were bad.
The three were old, but rich and fond befide,
And toil'd moft piteously to please their bride:

55

But fince their wealth (the best they had) was mine, 60
The reft, without much lofs, I could refign.

Sure to be lov'd, I took no pains to please,
Yet had more Pleasure far than they had Eafe.

Prefents flow'd in apace: with fhowers of gold,
They made their court, like Jupiter of old.
If I but fmil'd, a fudden youth they found,
And a new palfy feiz'd them when I frown'd.

Ye fovereign wives! give ear and understand,
Thus fhall ye speak, and exercife command.
For never was it given to mortal man,
To lie fo boldly as we women can :

Forfwear the fact, though feen with both his eyes,
And call your maids to witnefs how he lies.

Hark, old Sir Paul! ('twas thus I us'd to fay)
Whence is our neighbour's wife fo rich and gay?
Treated, carefs'd, where'er fhe's pleas'd to roam-
I fit in tatters, and immur'd at home.
Why to her house doft thou so oft repair?
Art thou fo amorous? and is the fo fair?
If I but fee a coufin or a friend,

Lord! how you fwell, and

VOL. I.

65

70

75

80

rage like any

fiend!