Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Some Husbands on a Winter's Day,
Were met to laugh their Spleen away.
As Wine flows in, and Spirits rise,
They praise their Consorts to the Skies.
Obedient Wives were seldom known,
Yet all could answer for their own.
Acknowledg'd each as Sov'reign Lord,
Abroad, at home, in deed, in word:
In short, as absolute their Reign, as
Grand-Seignior's over his Sultanas.
For pride, or shame to be out-done,
All join'd in the discourse but One;
Who vex'd so many Lies to hear,
Thus stops their arrogant Career:
'Tis mighty strange, Sirs, what you say!
What! all so absolutely sway!
In England, where Italians wise
Have plac'd the Women's Paradise?
In London, where the Sexes Flower
Have of that Eden fix'd the Bow'r?
Fie, Men of Sense to be so vain!
You're not in Turkey or in Spain;
True Britons all, I'll lay my life
None here is Master of his Wife.

These Words the general Fury rouse,
And all the common Cause espouse;
'Till one with Voice superior said
(Whose Lungs were sounder than his Head,)

I'll send my Footman instant Home,
To bid his Mistress hither come:
And if she flies not at my Call,
To own my Pow'r before you all,
I'll grant I'm hen-peck'd, if you please,
As S--- or as Socrates.

Hold there, replies th' Objector sly,
Prove first, that Matrons never lie;
Else Words are Wind: To tell you true,
I neither credit them nor you:
No, we'll be judg'd a surer way,
By what they do, not what they say.
I'll hold You severally that boast,
A Supper at the Loser's Cost,
That if you'll but vouchsafe to try
A Trick I'll tell you by and by;
Send strait for ev'ry Wife quite round,
One Mother's Daughter is not found,
But what before her Husband's Face
Point-blank his Order disobeys.

To this they one and all consent,
The Wager laid, the Summons went.
Mean while he this Instruction gives,
Pray only gravely tell your Wives,
Your Will and Pleasure is, t' invite
These Friends to a Boil'd Pig to Night:
The commoner the Trick has been,
The better Chance have you to win:
The Treat is mine, if they refuse;
But if they boil it, then I lose.

The first to whom the Message came
Was a well-born and haughty Dame;
A saucy independent She,
With Jointure and with Pin-Money,
Secur'd by Marriage Deeds from Wants,
Without a sep'rate Maintenance.
Her Loftiness disdain'd to hear
Half-through her Husband's Messenger;
But cut him short with—How dare he
'Mong Pot-Companions send for me?
He knows his way, if sober, home;
And if he wants me, bid him come.
This Answer hastily return'd,
Pleas'd all but him, whom it concern'd.
For each Man thought, his Wife on Trial
Would brighter shine by this Denial.

The second was a Lady gay,
Who lov'd to visit, dress and play;
To sparkle in the Box, or Ring,
And dance on Birth-nights for the King:
Whose Head was busy wont to be
With something else than Cookery.
She hearing of her Husband's Name,
Tho' much a Gentlewoman, came.
When half-inform'd of his Request,
A Dish as he desir'd it drest,
Quoth Madam, with a serious Face,
Without enquiring what it was,
You can't sure for an Answer look,
Sir, do you take me for your Cook?

But I must haste a Friend to see,
Who stays my coming for her Tea.
So said, that minute out she flew:
What could the slighted Husband do?
His Wager lost must needs appear,
For none obey that will not hear.

The next for Housewifry renown'd,
A Woman notable was own'd,
Who hated Idleness and Airs.
And minded Family-Affairs.
Expert at ev'ry thing was she,
At Needle-work, or Surgery:
Fam'd for her Liquors far and near,
From richest Cordial to Small-Beer.
To serve a Feast she understood,
In English or in Foreign Mode:
Whate'er the wanton Taste could chuse
In Sauces, Kickshaws, and Ragous;
She spar'd for neither Cost nor Pain,
Her welcome Guests to entertain.
Her Husband fair accosts her thus;
To-night these Friends will sup with us.
She answer'd with a Smile, My Dear,
Your Friends are always welcome there.
But we desire a Pig, and pray
You'd boil it.—Boil it, do you say?
I hope you'll give me leave to know
My Business better, Sir, than so.
Why! ne'er in any Book was yet
Found such a whimsical Receipt.

My Dressing none need be afeard of,
But such a Dish was never heard of.
I'll roast it nice,—but shall not boil it,
Let those that know no better spoil it.
Her Husband cry'd, For all my Boast,
I own the Wager fairly lost;
And other Wives besides my Love,
Or I'm mistaken much, may prove
More chargeable than this to me,
To show their Pride in Housewifry.

Now the poor Wretch who next him sate,
Felt his own Heart go pit-a-pat,
For well he knew his Spouse's Way;
Her Spirit brook'd not to obey;
And never yet was in the wrong:
He told her with a trembling Tongue,
Where, and on what his Friends would feast,
And how the Dainty should be drest.
To Night? quoth, in a Passion, she;
No, Sirs, to Night it cannot be.
And was it a boil'd Pig you said?
You and your Friends sure are not mad!
The Kitchen is the proper Sphere,
Where none but Females should appear:
And Cooks their Orders, by your Leave,
Always from Mistresses receive.
Boil it! was ever such an Ass!
Pray, what would you desire for Sauce?
If any Servant, in my Pay,
Dare dress a Pig that silly way,

In spight of any Whim of your's,
I'll turn them quickly out of doors:
For no such thing, nay, never frown,
Where I am Mistress, shall be done.
Each Woman wise her Husband rules,
Passive Obedience is for Fools.

This Case was quickly judg'd.—Behold,
A Fair One of a softer Mould;
Good Humour sparkled in her Eye,
And unaffected Pleasantry.
So mild and sweet she enter'd in,
Her Spouse thought certainly to win.
Pity such golden Hopes should fail!
Soon as she heard th' appointed Tale,
My Dear, I know not, I protest,
Whether in earnest or in jest,
So strange a Supper you demand;
Howe'er I'll not disputing stand,
But do't as freely as you bid it,
Prove but that ever Woman did it.
This Cause, by general Consent,
Was lost for want of Precedent.
Thus each deny'd a several Way;
But all agreed to disobey.

One only Dame did yet remain,
Who downright honest was and plain:
If now and then her Voice she tries,
'Tis not for Rule, but Exercise.
Unus'd her Lord's Commands to slight,
Yet sometimes pleading for the right,

She made her little Wisdom go
Farther than wiser Women do.
Her Husband tells her, looking grave,
A roasted Pig I boil'd would have,
And to prevent all Pro and Con,
I must insist to have it done.
Says she, My Dearest, shall your Wife
Get a Nick-Name to last for Life?
If you resolve to spoil it, do;
But I desire you'll eat it too:
For though 'tis boil'd to hinder Squabble,
I shall not, will not, sit at Table,

She spoke, and her good Man alone
Found he had neither lost nor won,
So fairly parted Stakes. The rest
Fell on the Wag that caus'd the Jest,
Would your Wife boil it? Let us see.
Hold there—you did not lay with me.
You find, in spite of all you boasted,
Your Pigs are fated to be roasted.
The Wager's lost, no more contend,
But take this Counsel from a Friend:
Boast not your Empire, if you prize it,
For happiest he that never tries it.
Wives unprovok'd think not of Sway,
Without commanding they obey.
But if your Dear Ones take the Field,
Resolve at once to win or yield:
For Heaven no Medium ever gave
Betwixt a Sovereign and a Slave.