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Well, if our author in the wife offends, He has a husband that will make amends: He draws him gentle, tender, and forgiving; And sure such kind good creatures may be living. In days of old, they pardon'd breach of vows, Stern Cato's self was no relentless spouse: Plu-Plutarch, what's his name, that writes his life? Tells us, that Cato dearly lov'd his wife: Yet if a friend, a night or so, should need her, He'd recommend her as a special breeder. To lend a wife, few here would scruple make; But, pray, which of you all would take her back? Though with the stoic chief our stage may ring, The stoic husband was the glorious thing. The man had courage, was a sage, 'tis true. And lov'd his country-but what's that to you? Those strange examples ne'er were made to fit ye, But the kind cuckold might instruct the city: There, many an honest man may copy Cato, Who ne'er saw naked sword, or look'd in Plato. If, after all, you think it a disgrace, That Edward's miss thus perks it in your face; To see a piece of failing flesh and blood, In all the rest so impudently good;
Faith, let the modest matrons of the town
Come here in crowds, and stare the strumpet down.
ON RECEIVING FROM
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE LADY FRANCES SHIRLEY,
A STANDISHI AND TWO PENS*.
YES, I beheld th' Athenian Queen
Descend in all her sober charms;
"And take," she said, and smil'd serene,
These lines were occasioned by the poet's being threatened with a prosecution in the House of Lords, for writing the Epilogue to the
"Secure the radiant weapons wield;
Aw'd, on my bended knees I fell,
"What well? what weapon?" Flavia cries,
"But, friend! take heed whom you attack;
Red, blue, and green, nay, white and black,
"You'd write as smooth again on glass,
As not to stick at fool or ass,
"Athenian Queen! and sober charms!
BY A PERSON OF QUALITY.
Written in the Year 1733.
FLUTTERING spread thy purple pinions,
I a slave in thy dominions:
Nature must give way to art.
Mild Arcadians, ever blooming,
Thus the Cyprian goddess weeping,
Cynthia! tune harmonious numbers;
Gloomy Pluto! king of terrors,
Mournful cypress, verdant willow,
HEN simple Macer, now of high renown,
Some ends of verse his betters might afford,
Now he begs verse, and what he gets commends,
So some coarse country-wench, almost decay'd, 15 Trudges to town, and first turns chambermaid; Awkward and supple each devoir to pay, She flatters her good lady twice a-day; Thought wondrous honest, tho' of mean degree, And strangely lik'd for her simplicity: In a translated suit then tries the town, With borrow'd pins, and patches not her own; But just endur'd the winter she began, And in four months a batter'd harridan: Now nothing left, but wither'd, pale, and shrunk, To bawd for others, and go shares with punk.
A CERTAIN LADY AT COURT.
I KNOW the thing that's most uncommon
(Envy be silent and attend!)
I know a reasonable woman,
Handsome and witty, yet a friend.
Not warp'd by passion, aw'd by rumour,
And sensible soft melancholy.
“Has she not faults then (Envy says), sir?" Yes, she has one, I must aver;
When all the world conspires to praise her,
VERBATIM FROM BOILEAU.
ONCE (says an author, where I need not say)
TO THE FOLLOWING QUESTION OF MRS. HOWE.
WHAT is prudery?
'Tis a beldam,
Seen with wit and beauty seldom.
OF HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
MUSE, 'tis enough, at length thy labour ends,