Stubborn as any lioness was I, And knew full well to raise my voice on high : 340 And would be so, in spite of all he swore: My spouse, who was, you know, to learning bred, A certain treatise oft at evening read, Where divers authors, whom the devil confound For all their lies were in one volume bound: Valerius, whole; and of St. Jerome, part; Chrysippus and Tertullian, Ovid's Art, Solomon's Proverbs, Eloisa's loves, 360 And many more than sure the Church approves. More legends were there, here, of wicked wives, Than good, in all the Bible and Saints' Lives. Who drew the lion vanquish'd? 'Twas a man: But could we women write as scholars can, Men should stand mark'd with far more wicked ness Than all the sons of Adam could redress. Love seldom haunts the breast where learning lies; And Venus sets, ere Mercury can rise. 370 Those play the scholars who can't play the men ; And use that weapon which they have, their pen: When old, and past the relish of delight, 381 It chanced, my husband, on a winter's night, Read in this book aloud with strange delight; How the first female, as the Scriptures show, Brought her own spouse and all his race to woe : How Samson fell; and he, whom Dejanire Wrapp'd in the envenom'd shirt, and set on fire: How cursed Eryphile her lord betray'd ; And the dire ambush Clytemnestra laid: But what most pleased him was the Cretan dame, And husband-bull-O, monstrous! fie, for shame! He had by heart, the whole detail of woe, Xantippe made her good man undergo; How oft she scolded in a day, he knew: How many piss-pots on the sage she threw; 390 Who took it patiently, and wiped his head; 'Rain follows thunder' that was all he said. He read, how Arius to his friend complain'd, A fatal tree was growing in his land, On which three wives successively had twined A sliding noose, and waver'd in the wind. 'Where grows this plant?' replied the friend; 'O, where? For better fruit did never orchard bear. Give me some slip of this most blissful tree, 400 Then, how two wives their lords' destruction prove, Through hatred one, and one through too much love; That for her husband mixed a poisonous draught, How some with swords their sleeping lords have slain, And some have hammer'd nails into their brain ; And some 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, I took him such a box as turn'd him blue; · 421 Then sigh'd, and cried,- Adieu, my dear, adieu !' But, after many a hearty struggle past, I condescended to be pleased at last. Soon as he said, 'My mistress and my wife, And stood content to rule by wholesome laws; 430 That rest they wish'd for, grant them in the grave; ODES. ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY, 1706.* I. DESCEND, ye Nine! descend and sing; Let the warbling lute complain : The shrill echoes rebound: While in more lengthen'd notes and slow, 10 Gently steal upon the ear; Now louder, and yet louder rise, And fill with spreading sounds the skies: Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes; And melt away, In a dying, dying fall. II. By Music, minds an equal temper know, 20 * Set to music, 1730, By Greene, organist of St. Paul's, as an exercise for his doctor's degree at Cambridge. Or, when the soul is press'd with cares, Warriors she fires with animated sounds; Intestine war no more our passions wage, III. 30 But when our country's cause provokes to arms, How martial music every bosom warms! So when the first bold vessel dared the seas, High on the stern the Thracian raised his strain, While Argo saw her kindred trees Descend from Pelion to the main. Transported demigods stood round, IV. But when through all the infernal bounds, Love, strong as death, the poet led O'er all the dreary coasts! Dreadful gleams, Dismal screams, Sullen moans, Hollow groans, And cries of tortured ghosts! FF 40 50 60 |