Prior. And fortify their crimes with confidence.
Nay, were they taken in a strict embrace,
Seen with both eyes, and pinion'd on the place,
All they fhall need, is to protest and swear,
Breathe a foft figh, and drop a tender tear,
Till their wife husbands, gull'd by arts like these,
Grow gentle, tractable, and tame as geefe.
What tho' this fland'rous Jew, this Solo
Call'd women fools, and knew full many a one,
The wifer wits of later times declare,
How conftant, chafte, and virtuous women are;
Witness the martyrs, who refign'd their breath,
Serene in torments, unconcern'd in death;
And witness next what Roman authors tell,
How Arria, Porcia, and Lucretia, fell.
But fince the facred leaves to all are free,
And men interpret texts, why fhould not we?
By this no more was meant than to have shown,
That fov'reign goodness dwells in him alone
Who only Is, and is but only One.
But grant the worft; fhall women then be
weigh'd
By ev'ry word that Solomon hath faid?
What tho' this king (as ancient story boasts)
Built a fair temple to the Lord of Hofts,
He ceas'd at laft his Maker to adore,
And did as much for idol gods, or more.
Beware what lavifh praises you confer
On a rank leacher and idolater,
Whofe reign indulgent God, fays holy writ,
Did but for David's righteous fake permit;
David! the monarch after Heav'n's own mind,
Who lov'd our fex, and honour'd all our kind.
Well, I'm a woman, and as fuch muft fpeak; Silence would fwell me, and my heart would break.
Know then, I fcorn your dull authorities,
Your idle wits, and all their learned lies.
By Heav'n, these authors are our fex's foes,
Whom in our right I must and will oppose."
,,Nay," quoth the King,,, dear Madam, be
not wroth;
I yield it up; but fince I gave my oath
That this much-injur'd knight again fhould fee,
It must be done
I am a King," said he
„And one whofe faith has ever facred been."
,,And fo has mine," fhe faid
Her anfwer fhe fhall have, I undertake;
And thus an end of all dispute I make.
Try when you lift, and you fhall find, my Lord,
It is not in our fex to break our word."
We leave them here in this heroic ftrain,
And to the Knight our ftory turns again,
Who in the garden, with his lovely May,
Sung merrier than the cuckoo or the jay.
This was his fong: „Oh! kind and conftant be,
Conftant and kind I'll ever prove to thee."
Thus finging as he went, at last he drew,
By eafy fteps, to where the pear-tree grew:
The longing dame look'd up, and spy'd her love
Full fairly perch'd among the boughs above.
She stopp'd, and fighing, „Oh! good Gods!" fhe
cry'd,
What pangs, what fudden fhoots diftend my
fide?
O for that tempting fruit,, fo fresh, fo green;
Help, for the love of Heav'n's immortal Queen!
Help, dearest Lord! and fave at once the life
Of thy poor infant and thy longing wife!“
Sore figh'd the Knight to hear his lady's cry, But could not climb, and had no fervant nigh:
Pope. Old as he was, and void of eyefight too,
What could, alas! a helpless husband do?
„And must I languifh then," she said, „and die,
Yet view the lovely fruit before my eye?
At least, kind Sir, for Charity's fweet fake,
Vouchsafe the trunk between your arms to take;
Then from your back I might afcend the tree;
Do you but stoop, and leave the rest to me."
With all my foul," he thus reply'd again,
,,I'd spend my dearest blood to ease your pain.'
With that his back against the trunk he bent,
She feiz'd a twig, and up the tree í he went.
Now prove your patience, gentle ladies all!
Nor let on me your heavy anger fall:
'Tis truth I tell, tho' not in phrase refin'd;
Tho' blunt my tale, yet honeft is my mind.
What feats the lady in the tree might do,
I país, as gambols never known to you;
But fure, it was a merrier fit, fhe fwore,
Than in her life fhe ever felt before.
In that nice moment, lo! the wond'ring
knight
Look'd out, and stood restor❜d to fudden fight.
Straight on the tree his eager eyes he bent,
As one whofe thoughts were on his spouse intent:
But when he saw his bofom-wife so dress'd,
His rage was fuch as cannot be express'd;
Not frantic mothers when their infants die
With louder clamours rend the vaulted sky:
He cry'd, he roar'd, he ftorm'd, he tore his hair;
Death! Hell! and Furies! what doft thou do the-
What ails my Lord?" the trembling dame re
,,I thought your patience had been better try'd:
Is this your love, ungrateful and unkind,
This my reward for having cur'd the blind?
Why was I taught to make my husband fee,
By ftruggling with a man upon a tree?
Did I for this the pow'r of magic prove:
Unhappy wife, whofe crime was too much love! \-
,,If this be ftruggling, by this holy light!
'Tis ftruggling with a vengeance," quoth the
Knight,
"So heav'n 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
As furely feize thee, as I faw too well."
Guard me, good Angels!" cry'd the gentle
May,
„Pray Heav'n this magic work the proper way.
Alas, my love! 'tis certain, could you fee,
You ne'er had uf'd these killing words to me:
So help me, Fates! as 'tis no perfect fight.
But fome faint glimm'ring of a doubtful light."
What I have faid," quoth he, „I must maintain, For, by th' immortal Pow'rs, it feem'd too plain."--
"By all thofe Pow'rs, fome frenzy feiz'd
Reply'd the dame; are thefe 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 cry.)
The Knight was touch'd; and in his looks ap
Signs of remorfe, while thus his fpoufe he
,,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 faid,
For, on my foul, amends fhall foon be made;
Let my repentance your forgiveness draw;
By Heav'n I swore but what I thought I faw."
"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 difplay,
The balls are wounded with the piercing ray,
And dufky vapours rife, and intercept the day.
So, juft recov'ring from the fhades 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 rafhly deem;
Heav'n knows, how feldom things are what they
feem!
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 thofe who think amifs."
With that he 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,
Difturb'd with doubts and jealoufies no more:
Both pleas'd and blefs'd renew'd their mutual vows;
A fruitful wife, and a believing fpoule.
Thus ends our Tale, whofe moral next to ma-
ke,
Let all wife hufbands hence example take,
And pray, to crown the pleasure of their lives,
To be fo well deluded by their wives.
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