University of Virginia Library

Have you not seen (to state the Case)
Two Wasps lie strugling in a Glass?
By the rich Flavour of Toleay
Allur'd, about the Brim they play;
They light, they murmur, then begin
To lick; and so at length slip in:
Embracing close the Couple lies,
Together dip, together rise;
You'd swear they love, and yet they strive
Which shall be sunk, and which survive.

Such feign'd Amours, and real Hate
Attend the Matrimonial State;
When sacred Vows are bought and sold,
And Hearts are ty'd with Threads of Gold.

A Nymph there was, who ('tis aver'd
By Fame) was born without a Beard:
A certain Sign, the Learn'd declare,
That (guarded with uncommon Care)
Her Virtue might remain at Ten
Impregnable, to Boys or Men.
But from that Æra we'll proceed,
To find her in a Widow's Weed:
Which all Love's Chronicles agree,
She wore just turn'd of Twenty three;
For an old Sot she call'd her Mate,
For Jewels, Pin-Money, and Plate.
The Dame, possess'd of Wealth and Ease,
Had no more Appetites to please:
That which provokes wild Girls to wed,
Fie!—It ne'er enter'd in her Head.

Yet some prolific Planet smil'd,
And gave the Pair a chopping Child;
Intitl'd by the Law to claim
Her Husband's Chattels, and his Name:
But was so like his Mother! She
The Queen of Love, her Cupid he.

This Matron fair for Spouse deceas'd
Had sorrow'd sore, a Week at least;
And seem'd to grudge the Worms that prey,
Which had lain dead full many a Day.
From Plays and Balls she now refrain'd,
To a dark Room by Custom chain'd;
And not a Male for Love or Gold,
But the dear Hopes of two Years old.

The Maids so long in Prison pent,
Ask leave to air; she gives Consent:
(For Health is Riches to the Poor)
But Tom must stay to guard the Door.
In reading Sherlock she'd employ
Her Solitude, and tend the Boy.

When Madam sees the Coast is clear,
Her Spirits mantle and carier;
Diffusing Ardour thro' her mien;
Pity they shou'd condense to Spleen!
But now by Honour she's confin'd,
Who flutter'd once as free as Wind:
And on a Masquerading Morn,
By Six securely cou'd Return;
Having, to seal him safe 'till Nine,
With Opium drugg'd her Spouse's Wine.
This the gay World no worse wou'd hold,
Than had she only chang'd his Gold;
The Species answer'd all Demands,
And only pass'd thro' other Hands.
But Honour now prescribes the Law,
The Tyrant keeps her Will in Awe:
For Charity forbid to roam,
And not a Chitterling at home.
What! a large Stomach, and no Meat!
In pity, Love, provide a Treat.
Can Widows feed on Dreams and Wishes,
Like Hags on visionary Dishes?
Impossible! Thro' Walls of Stone
Hunger will break, to suck a Bone.
Want oft' in Times of old, we read,
Made Mothers on their Infants feed;
And now constrain'd this Matron mild,
To grow hard-hearted to her Child.
Her darling Child she pinch'd; he squawl'd;
In haste the fav'rite Footman's call'd,
To pacify the peevish Chit;
For who but he cou'd do the Feat?
He smarting sore, refus'd to play;
But bade Man Thomas beat Mamma.
She laughing, soon avow'd her Flame
By various Signs that want a Name.
The Lacquey saw, with trembling Joy,
Gay Humour dancing in her Eye;
And strait with equal Fury fir'd
Began th' Attack; the Dame retir'd:
And haply falling as she fled,
He beat her 'till she lay for dead:
But, (with new Vigour for the Strife)
Soon with a Sigh return'd to Life.

Think ye she'd e'er forgive her Son,
For what the naughty Man had done?
She did; yet spited with his Pain,
He sounds th' Alarm to Charge again.
But, 'Squire, consult your Potent Ally,
Whether he's yet prepar'd to rally—
Yes; Blood is hot on either side;
Another Combat must be try'd.
She knew the Foe cou'd do no more,
Than at the first Attack she bore;
So at his little Malice smil'd,
And cry'd, Come on!—To please the Child.