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Poems

or, A Miscellany of Sonnets, Satyrs, Drollery, Panegyricks, Elegies, &c. At the Instance, and Request of Several Friends, Times, and Occasions, Composed; and now at their command Collected, and Committed to the Press. By the Author, M. Stevenson
 
 

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Upon a Hosier that carry'd His Wife to give Her a Lobster, and lockt Her up in an Apothecarie's House, pretending her mad, where She was kept Fourteen Days with Bread and Water.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


109

Upon a Hosier that carry'd His Wife to give Her a Lobster, and lockt Her up in an Apothecarie's House, pretending her mad, where She was kept Fourteen Days with Bread and Water.

Was this the Lobster that you meant her pray?
Well, I commend ye, you did claw'r away.
You Lady, and the Lobster's Lady met,
But there was too much vinegar at the Treat.
Yet by your binding to the good behaviour,
'Twas not a Lobster, but a Crab you gave her.
Was this to give your Wife a chearly dose,
To carry her abroad to keep her close?
Whom heaven made one, thus to divide, you are
Worse than two Stockins, for they make a paire.
Was this the way think you to tame a shrow?
Beshrow my heart, I cannot think it so.

110

No, no; it was in such a treacherous case,
The way to fit a VVoman for the Place.
And, if she still her wonted troth retain?
She's mad indeed, then, send her back again.
Would you your wife, alive, thus bury'd have?
'Cause Jealousie is cruel as the Grave.
Sure, having been so long your wife, it might
Have quencht that brand, and others appetite.
Come, come, I doubt, you thus made sure of her,
To make your self more safe Adulterer.
But for the 'Pothecary, may it be said,
A fool for once in his own Mortar braid.
And may the Man that wou'd so fain have had
His Wife distracted, be Himself Horn-mad.
Cornu petit ille Caveto.