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WIFE

THE

OF BAT H.

FROM

CHAUCER.

BEHOLD the woes of matrimonial life,

And hear with rev'rence an experienc'd wife!
To dear-bought wildom give the credit due,
And think, for once, a woman tells you true.
In all thefe trials I have borne a part,

I was myfelf the fcourge that caus'd the fiart;
For, fince fifteen, in triumph have I led
Five captive Hufbands from the Church to bed.

Chrift faw a wedding once, the fcripture 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:

ΤΟ

Five times in lawful wedlock she was join'd; 15
And fure the certain ftint was ne'er defin'd.

Encrease and multiply, was heav'n'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 cleavė.“
More wives than one by Solomon were try'd,.

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Or elfe the wifeft of mankind's bely'd,
I've had myself full many a merry fit;
And truft in heav'n I may have many yet,
For when my tranfitory fpoufe, 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'em that, and what it means you know.
The fame Apoftle too has elsewhere own'd,
No precept for Virginity he found:

and we women still

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

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.
Heav'n calls us diff'rent ways, on these bestows
One proper gift, another grants to thofe :
Not ev'ry man's oblig'd to fell his tore,
And give up all his 'fubftance to the poor;
Such as are perfect, may, I can't deny;
But, by your leave, Divines, fo am not I.

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Full many a Saint, fince firft the world began, Liv'd an unfpotted Maid, in spite of man: Let fuch (a God's naine) with fine wheat be fed, And let us honeft wives eat barley bread. For me, I'll keep the poft affign'd by heav'n, And use the copious talent it has giv'n: Let my good spouse pay tribute, do me right, And keep an equal reck'ning ev'ry night:

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His proper body is not his, but mine;
For fo faid Paul, and Paul's a found divine.
Know then, of thofe five hufbands I have had,
Three were juft tolerable, two were bact
The three were old, but rich and fond befide,
And toil'd moft piteoufly to please their bride:
But fince their wealth (the best they had) was mine,
The reft, without much lofs, 1 could refign,
Sure to be lov'd, I took no pains to please,
Yet had more Pleafure far than they had Ease.

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

Ye fov'reign wives! give ear, and understand,
Thus fhall ye fpeak, and exercife command.
For never was it giv'n to mortal man,
To lye fo boldly as we women can:
Forfwear the fact, tho' feen with both his eyes,
And call your maids to witness how he lies,

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Hark, old Sir Paul! ('twas thus I us'd to fay) Whence is our neighbour's wife fo rich and gay? 75 Treated, carefs'd, where'er fhe's pleas'd to roam I fit in tatters, and immur'd at home. Why to her house doft thou fo oft repair? Art thou fo am'rous? and is fhe fo fair? If I but fee a coufin or a friend,

Lord! how you fwell, and rage like any fiend?
But you reel home, a drunken beaftly bear,
Then preach till midnight in your eafy chair;
Cry, wives are falfe, and ev'ry woman evil,
And give up all that's female to the devil.

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

Vapours and pride by turns possess her brain,
Now gayly inad, now fourly fplenetic,
Freakish when well, and fretful when fhe's fick.
I fair, then chalte fhe cannot long abide,
By preffing youth attack'd on ev'ry side:
If foul, her wealth the lufty lover lures,
Or else her wit fome fool-gallant procures,
Or clfe fhe dances with becoming grace,
Or fhape excufes the defects of face.

There swims no goose fo grey, but, foon or late,
She finds fome honeft gander for her mate.

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Horfes (thou fay'ft) and affes, men may try, 100 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.

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You tell me, to preferve your wife's good grace,
Your eyes mult always languifh on my face,
Your tongue with conftant flatt'ries feed my ear,
And tag each fentence with, My life! my dear!
If by ftrange chance, a modeft blush be rais'd
Before my fine complexion must be prais'd.
My garments always must be new and gay,
And feasts still kept upon my wedding day,
Then must my nurse be pleas'd, and fav'rite maid;
And endless treats, and endless visits paid.
To a long train of kindred, friends, allies;
All this thou fay'it, and all thou say'st are lyes.

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On Jenkin too you caft a fquinting eye: What! can your 'prentice raise your jealousy? Fresh are his ruddy cheeks, his forehead fair, And like the burnifh'd gold his curling hair. But clear thy wrinkled brow, and quit thy forrow, I'd fcorn your 'prentice, fhould you die to-morrow.

Why are thy chefts all lock'd? on what design? Are not thy worldly goods and treasure mine? 125 Sir, I'm no fool: nor fhall you, by St. John, Have goods and body to yourself alone. 45 One you fhall quit, in fpite of both your eyes I heed nor, I, the bolts, the locks, rhe fpies. If you had wit, you'd fay, "Go where you will, 130 ,,Dear fpoufe, I credit nor the tales they tell: ,,Take all the freedoms of a married life;

,,I know thee for a virtuous, faithful wife."

Lord! when you have enough, what need you care How merrily foever others fare?

Tho' all the day I give and take delight, Doubt not, fufficient will be left at night. 'Tis but a juft and rational defire,

To light a taper at a neighbour's fire.

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There's danger too, you think, in rich array, 140 And none can long be modeft that are gay. The Cat, if you but finge her tabby fkin, The chimney keeps, and fit content within; But once grown fleek, will from her corner run, Sport with her tail, and wanton in the fun; She licks her fair round face, and frifks abroad, To fhew her furr, and to be catterwaw'd,

Lo thus, my friends, I wrought to my defires These three right ancient venerable fires.

G S

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