Solomon's Proverbs, Eloïsa's Loves,
And many more than sure the Church approves.
More legends were there here, of wicked wives
Than good in all the Bible and Saints' Lives.
Who drew the lion vanquish'd? 'Twas a man; 365
But could we women write as scholars can,
Men should stand mark'd with far more wickedness
Than all the sons of Adam could redress.
Love seldom haunts the breast where learning lies,
And Venus sets ere Mercury can rise.
Those play the scholars who can't play the men,
And use that weapon which they have their pen:
When old, and past the relish of delight,
Then down they sit, and in their dotage write
That not one woman keeps her marriage-vow.
(This by the way, but to my purpose now.)
It chanc'd my husband, on a winter's night, Read in this book aloud with strange delight, How the first female (as the Scriptures show) Brought her own spouse and all his race to woe; How Samson fell; and he whom Dejanire Wrapp'd in th' envenom'd shirt, and set on fire; How curs'd Eriphyle her lord betray'd,
And the dire ambush Clytemnestra laid;
But what most pleas'd him was the Cretan dame 385 And husband bull-Oh, monstrous! fy for shame! VOL. II.
He had by heart the whole detail of woe
Xantippe made her good man undergo;
How oft' she scolded in a day he knew,
How many pisspots on the sage she threw,
Who took it patiently, and wip'd his head :
"Rain follows thunder," that was all he said,
He read how Arius to his friend complain'd
A fatal tree was growing in his land,
On which three wives successively had twin'd
A sliding noose, and waver'd in the wind.
Where grows this plant, reply'd the friend, oh! where?
For better fruit did never orchard bear:
Give me some slip of this most blissful tree,
And in my garden planted it shall be,
Then how two wives their lords' destruction prove, Thro' hatred one, and one thro' too much love; That for her husband mix'd a pois'nous draught, And this for lust an am'rous philtre bought : This nimble juice soon seiz'd his giddy head, Frantic at night, and in the morning dead.
How some with swords their sleeping lords have slain, And some have hammer'd nails into their brain, And some have drench'd them with a deadly potion: All this he read, and read with great devotion. 410 Long time I heard, and swell'd, and blush'd, and frown'd;
But when no end of these vile tales I found,
When still he read, and laugh'd, and read again,
And half the night was thus consum❜d in vain,
Provok'd to vengeance, three large leaves I tore,
And with one buffet fell'd him on the floor.
With that my husband in a fury rose,
And down he settled me with hearty blows.
I groan'd, and lay extended on my side;
Oh! thou hast slain me for my wealth, I cry'd: 420
Yet I forgive thee-take my last embrace—
He wept, kind soul! and stoop'd to kiss my face:
I took him such a box as turn'd him blue,
Then sigh'd and cry'd, Adieu, my dear, adieu!
But after many a hearty struggle past,
I condescended to be pleas'd at last.
Soon as he said, My mistress and my wife!
Do what you list the term of all your life,
I took to heart the merits of the cause,
And stood content to rule by wholesome laws;
Receiv'd the reins of absolute command,
With all the government of house and land,
And empire o'er his tongue and o'er his hand.
As for the volume that revil'd the dames,
'Twas torn to fragments, and condemn'd to flames.
Now Heav'n on all my husbands gone bestow
Pleasures above for tortures felt below:
That rest they wish'd for grant them in the grave,
And bless those souls my conduct help'd to save. 439
SHE said, and for her lost Galanthis sighs,
When the fair consort of her son replies;
Since you a servant's ravish'd form bemoan,
And kindly sigh for sorrows not your own,
Let me [if tears and grief permit] relate
A nearer woe, a sister's stranger fate.
No nymph of all Oechalia could compare
For beauteous form with Dryope the fair,
Her tender mother's only hope and pride,
[Myself the offspring of a second bride.]
This nymph, compress'd by him who rules the day,
Whom Delphi and the Delian isle obey,
Andræmon lov'd; and, bless'd in all those charms
That pleas'd a god, succeeded to her arms.
A lake there was with shelving banks around, 15
Whose verdant summit fragrant Myrtles crown'd:
These shades, unknowing of the Fates she sought,
And to the Naiads flow'ry garlands brought:
Her smiling babe [a pleasing charge] she prest
Within her arms, and nourish'd at her breast. 20
Not distant far a watʼry lotos grows;
The spring was new, and all the verdant boughs
Adorn'd with blossoms, promis'd fruits that vie
In glowing colours with the Tyrian dye :
Of these she cropp'd to please her infant son,
And I myself the same rash act had done;
But, lo! I saw (as near her side I stood)
The violated blossoms drop with blood.
Upon the tree I cast a frightful look;
The trembling tree with sudden horror shook.
Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true)
As from Priapus' lawlesss lust she flew,
Forsook her form, and, fixing here, became
A flow'ry plant, which still preserves her name.
This change unknown, astonish'd at the sight, 35
My trembling sister strove to urge her flight;
And first the pardon of the nymphs implor'd,
And those offended sylvan pow'rs ador'd:
But when she backward would have fled, she found
Her stiff'ning feet were rooted in the ground:
In vain to free her fasten'd feet she strove,
And as she struggles only moves above;
She feels th' encroaching bark around her grow
By quick degrees, and cover all below.
Surpris'd at this, her trembling hand she heaves 45 To rend her hair; her hand is fill'd with leaves
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