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Let my repentance your forgiveness draw,

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

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Ah, my lov'd lord! 'twas much unkind (fhe cry'd) On bare fufpicion thus to treat your bride. But, till your fight's establish'd, for a while, Imperfect objects may your fenfe beguile. Thus when from fleep we firft our eyes display, The balls are wounded with the piercing ray, And dusky vapours rise, and intercept the day. So, juft recovering from the shades of night, Your fwimming eyes are drunk with fudden light, Strange phantoms dance around, and fkim before your fight:

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

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Heaven knows how feldom things are what they seem!
Confult your reason, and you foon fhall 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 jealousies no more:

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Both, pleas'd and blefs'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 so well deluded by their wives.

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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 thefe trials I have borne a part,

I was myself the fcourge that caus'd the fmart;
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 saw but one, 'tis thought, in all his days;
Whence fome infer, whofe confcience is too nice,
No pious Chriftian 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 she was join'd;
And fure the certain ftint was ne'er defin'd.

ΤΟ

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"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."

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More

More wives than one by Solomon were try'd,
Or else the wifeft of mankind's bely'd.
I've had myfelf 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 serve our turn,
Declar'd 'twas better far to wed than burn.
There's danger in affembling fire and tow;

I

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

No precept for Virginity he found :

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'Tis but a counsel-and we women still

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

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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 fpots, 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.

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Full many a Saint, fince first the world began,

Liv'd an unspotted Maid, in spite 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 use the copious talent it has given;

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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 those 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:

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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 Ease.

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

Ye fovereign wives! give ear and understand,
Thus fhall ye fpeak, and exercise 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 witness how he lies.

Hark, old Sir Paul! ('twas thus I us'd to fay)
Whence is our neighbour's wife so 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 dost thou so oft repair?
Art thou fo amorous? and is the fo fair?
If I but fee a coufin or a friend,

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.But you reel home, a drunken beastly bear,
Then preach till midnight in your eafy chair;
Cry, wives are falfe, and every woman evil,
And give up all that 's female to the devil.

If poor (you fay) she drains her husband's purse;
If rich, fhe keeps her prieft, or fomething worse;
If highly born, intolerably vain,

Vapours and pride by turns poffefs her brain,

Now gayly mad, now fourly fplenetic ;

fide:

Freakish when well, and fretful when the 's fick.
If fair, then chafte fhe cannot long abide,
By preffing youth attack'd on every
If foul, her wealth the lufty lover lures,
Or elfe her wit fome fool-gallant procures,
Or elfe fhe dances with becoming grace,
Or fhape excufes the defects of face.
There fwims no goofe fo grey, but, foon or late,
She finds fome honeft gander for her mate.

Horfes (thou fay'ft) and affes men may try,
And ring fufpected veffels ere they buy:
But wives, a random choice, untry'd they take,
They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake:
Then, nor till then, the veil's remov'd away,
And all the woman glares in open day.

You tell me, to preserve your wife's good grace,
Your eyes must always languish on my face,
Your tongue with conftant flatteries feed my ear,
And tag each fentence with, My life!
If, by strange chance, a modeft blush be rais'd,
Be fure my fine complexion must be prais'd.

my

dear!

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