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 thy pain.
With that, his back against the trunk he bent,
She feiz'd a twig, and up the tree she went.

Now prove your patience, gentle ladies all!
Nor let on me your heavy anger fall:
'Tis truth I tell, though not in phrase refin'd;
Though blunt my tale, yet honeft is my mind.
What feats the Lady in the Tree might do,
I pafs, as gambols never known to you;
But fure it was a merrier fit, fhe fwore,

Than in her life fhe ever felt before.

735

740

745

In that nice moment, lo! the wondering knight Lookt out, and stood reftor'd to fudden fight. Straight on the tree his eager eyes he bent, As one whofe thoughts were on his fpoufe intent; But when he faw his bofom-wife fo drefs'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 there? What ails my Lord? the trembling dame reply'd;

750

755

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,

760

By struggling with a Man upon a Tree?

765

Did I for this the power of magic prove?
Unhappy wife, whofe crime was too much love!
If this be struggling, by this holy light,
'Tis ftruggling with a vengeance (quoth the Knight)
So Heaven preserve the fight it has restor'd,

As with these eyes I plainly faw thee whor'd;

Whor'd by my slave-perfidious wretch! may hell 770
As furely feize thee, as I faw too well.

Guard me, good Angels! cry'd the gentle May,
Pray Heaven, this magic work the proper way!
Alas, my love! 'tis certain, could you see,
You ne'er had us'd these killing words to me :
So help me, Fates, as 'tis no perfect fight,
But fome faint glimmering of a doubtful light.
What I have said (quoth he) I must maintain,
For by th' immortal powers it feem'd too plain-

By all thofe powers, fome frenzy feiz'd your
(Reply'd the dame) : are these the thanks I find?
Wretch that I am, that e'er I was fo kind!
She said; a rising figh exprefs'd her woe,
The ready tears apace began to flow,

775

mind

And, as they fell, the wip'd from either eye

785

The drops (for women, when they lift, can cry).

The Knight was touch'd, and in his looks appear'd Signs of remorse, while thus his fpoufe he chear'd: Madam, 'tis past, and my short anger o'er;

Come down, and vex your tender heart no more: 790 Excufe me, dear, if aught amifs was said,

For, on my foul, amends fhall foon be made :

Let

Let my repentance your forgiveness draw,

By Heaven, 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 fense beguile.
Thus when from fleep we first our eyes display,
The balls are wounded with the piercing ray, 800
And dusky vapours rife, and intercept the day.
So, juft recovering from the shades of night,
Your swimming eyes are drunk with sudden light,
Strange phantoms dance around, and skim before
your fight:

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

805

Heaven knows how feldom things are what they seem !
Confult your reason, and you foon shall 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 she leap'd into her Lord's embrace,
With well-diffembled virtue in her face.

He hugg'd her clofe, and kifs'd her o'er and o'er,
Difturb'd with doubts and jealousies no more:

810

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 fo well deluded by their wives.

820

THE

THE

WIFE OF BATH

B

HER

PROLOGU E,

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 these trials I have borne a part,

I was myself the scourge that caus'd the smart;
For, fince fifteen, in triumph have I led
Five captive Husbands from the Church to bed.

Chrift faw a wedding once, the Scripture fays,
And faw 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 fhe was join'd;
And fure the certain ftint was ne'er defin'd.

5

10

15.

"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."

20

More

More wives than one by Solomon were try'd,
Or elfe the wifeft of mankind's bely'd.
I've had myself full many a merry fit;
And trust 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;

30

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

No precept for Virginity he found :

'Tis but a counfel-and we women still

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

35

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 spots, am not so nice;
Heaven calls us different ways, on these bestows

40

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.

45

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 honest wives eat barley bread.

For me, I'll keep the poft affign'd by heaven,
And use the copious talent it has given:

50

Let