2

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,

Tho' they could fee as far as fhips can fail?
'Tis better, fure, when blind, deceiv'd to be,
Than be deluded, when a man can fee!

Argus himself, fo cautious and fo wife,
Was over-watch'd, for all his hundred eyes:
So many'an honeft hufband may, 'tis known,
Who, wifely never thinks the case his own.

The dame at last, by diligence and care,
Procur'd the key her Knight was wont to bear;
She took the wards in wax before the fire,
And gave th' impreffion to the trufty Squire;
By means of this fome wonder fhall
Which in due place and feafon you may hear.

appear,

Well fung fweet Ovid, in the days of yore,
What flight is that which Love will not explore?
And Piramus and Thisbe plainly show
The feats, true lovers, when they lift, can do:
Tho' watch'd and captive, yet, in spite of all,
They found the art of kiffing thro' a wall.

But now no longer from our Tale to stray,
It happ'd that once, upon a fummer's day,
Our rev'rend Knight was urg'd to am'rous play;
He rais'd his fpoufe ere matin-bell was rung,
And thus his morning canticle he fung.

}

„Awake, my love! disclose thy radiant eyes;
Arife, my wife, my beauteous lady! rife:
Hear how the doves with penfive notes complain,
And in foft numbers tell the trees their pain.
The winter 's past, the clouds and tempelt fly,

Dope.

Pope. The fun adorns the field, and brightens all the

fky.

Fair without spot, whofe ev'ry fhining part
My bofom wounds, and captivates my heart,
Come, and in mutual pleasures let's engage,
Joy of my life, and comfort of my age!"

This heard, to Damian ftraight a fign fhe
made,

To hafte before; the gentle Squire obey'd;
Secret and undefery'd he took his way,
And ambush'd close behind an arbour lay.

It was not long ere January came,
And hand in hand with him his lovely dame;
Blind as he was, not doubting all was fure,
He turn'd the key, and made the gate fecure.

Here let us walk," he faid, „obferv'd
by none,

Confcious of pleasures to the world unknown:
So may my foul have joy, as thou, my wife,
Art far the dearest folace of my life;

And rather would I chufe, by Heav'n above,
To die this inftant, than to lofe thy love.
Reflect, what truth was in my paffion fhown,
When, unendow'd, I took thee for my own,
And fought no treasure but thy heart alone.
Old as I am, and now depriv'd of fight,
Whilft thou art faithful to thy own true Knight,
Nor age nor blindness rob me of delight.
Fach other lofs with patience I can bear;
The lofs of thee is what I only fear.

Confider then, my lady and my wife,

The folid comforts of a virtuous life.

As first, the love of Christ himself you gain;
Next your own honour undefil'd maintain;
And, laftly, that which fure your mind must move,
My whole estate shall gratify your love:

Make

Make your own terms, and ere to-morrow's fun Displays his light, by Heav'n, it fhall be done. 1 feal the contract with a holy kifs,

And will perform by this

my dear, and this Have comfort, fpouse, nor think thy lord unkind; 'Tis love, not jealoufy, that fires my mind: For when thy charms my fober thoughts engage, And join'd to them my own unequal age, From thy dear fide I have no pow'r to part, Such fecret tranfports warm my melting heart: For who, that once poffefs'd these heav'nly charms,

Could live one moment absent from thy arms?"

He ceas'd; and May with modeft grace re

ply'd,

(Weak was her voice, as, while she spoke, she cry'd)

"Heav'n knows," with that a tender figh fhe drew,

I have a foul to fave as well as you;

And, what no lefs you to my charge commend,
My dearest honour will to death defend.
To you in holy church I gave my hand,
And join'd my heart in wedlock's facred band;
Yet after this, if you diftruft my care,

Then hear, my Lord, and witness what I fwear:

First may the yawning earth her bofom rend,
And let me hence to hell alive defcend,
Or die the death I dread no lefs than hell,
Sew'd in a fack, and plung'd into a well,
Ere I my fame by one lewd act difgrace,
Or once renounce the honour of my race:
For know, Sir Knight, of gentle blood I came;
I loath a whore, and startle at the name:
But jealous men on their own crimes reflect,
And learn from thence their ladies to suspect;
Elfe why thefe needlefs cautions, Sir, to me?
Thefe doubts and fears of female conftancy?

Pope.

pope. This chime still rings in ev'ry lady's ear, The only strain a wife muft hope to hear."

Thus while fhe fpoke, a fidelong glance if he

caft

Where Damian, kneeling, worshipp'd as the past:
She faw him watch the motions of her eye,
And fingled out a pear-tree planted nigh:
'Twas charg'd wit fruit that made a goodly show,
And hung with dangling pears was ev'ry bough.
Thither th' obfequious Squire addrefs'd his pace,
And, climbing, in the fummit took his place;
The Knight and Lady walk'd beneath in view,
Where let us leave them, and our Tale pursue.

'Twas now the season when the glorious fun
His heav'nly progrefs thro' the Twins had run,
And Jove, exalted, his mild influence yields,
To glad the glebe, and paint the flow'ry fields:
Clear was the day, and Phoebus, rifing bright,
Had ftreak'd the azure firmament with light;
He pierc'd the glitt'ring clouds with golden
ftreams,

And warm'd the womb of Earth with genial beams.

}

It fo befell, in that fair morning-tide,
The Fairies fported on the garden-fide,
And in the midft their monarch and his bride.
So featly tripp'd the light-food ladies round,
The knights fo nimbly o'er the greenfword bound,
That fcarce they bent the flow'rs, or touch'd the
ground.

The dances ended, all the fairy train

For pinks and daifies fearch'd the flow'ry plain;
While on a bank reclin'd of rifing green

Thus, with a frown, the King befpoke his Queen.

'Tis too apparent, argue what you can, The treachery you women ule to man;

A thou

A thousand authors have this truth made out,
And fad experience leaves no room for doubt.

Heav'n reft thy fpirit, nable Solomon!

A wifer monarch never faw the fun:
All wealth, all honours, the fupreme degree
Of earthly blifs, was well beftow'd on thee!
For fagely haft thou faid: „Of all mankind
One only juft and righteous hope to find;
But fhouldst thou fearch the fpacious world.
around,

Yet one good woman is not to be found."

Thus fays the King who knew your wicked-
nefs;

The fon of Sirach teftifies no lefs.

So may
fome wildfire on your bodies fall,
Or fome devouring plague confume you all,
As well you view the leacher in the tree,
And well this honourable Knight you fee;
But fince he's blind and old, (a helpless cafe)
His Squire fhall cuckold him before your face.

Now by my own dread majesty I swear,
And by this awful fceptre which I bear,
No impious wretch fhall 'fcape unpunish'd long
That in my presence offers fuch a wrong.
I will this inftance undeceive the Knight,
And in the very act reftore his fight,
And fet the ftrumpet here in open view,
A warning to thofe ladies and to you,
And all the faithless sex for ever to be true."

66

„And will you fo," reply'd the Queen, „
deed?

Now by my mother's foul! it is decree'd
She fhall not want an answer at her need.
For her and for her daughters I'll engage,
And all the fex in each fucceeding age;
Art fhall be theirs to varnish an offence,

£ 4

}

And

pope.