University of Virginia Library

Cleora has her Wish, she weds a Peer,
Her weighty Train two Pages scarce can bear;
Persia, and both the Indies must provide,
To grace her Pomp, and gratify her Pride;
Of rich Brocade a shining Robe she wears,
And Gems surround her lovely Neck, like Stars;
Drawn by six Greys of the proud Belgian kind,
With a long Train of Livery Beaux behind,
She charms the Park, and sets all Hearts on fire,
The Lady's Envy, and the Mens Desire.
Beholding thus, O happy as a Queen!
We cry; but shift the gaudy flattering Scene;
View her at home, in her Domestick Light;
For thither she must come, at least at Night;
What has she there? A surly ill-bred Lord,
Who chides, and snaps her up at every Word;
A brutal Sot, who while she holds his Head,
With drunken Filth bedawbs the nuptial Bed;
Sick to the Heart, she breathes the nauseous Fume
Of odious Steams, that poison all the Room;
Weeping all Night the trembling Creature lies,
And counts the tedious Hours when she may rise:
But most she fears, lest waking she should find,
To make amends, the Monster would be kind;
Those matchless Beauties, worthy of a God,
Must bear, tho' much averse, the loathsome Load:
What then may be the Chance that next ensues?
Some vile Disease, fresh reeking from the Stews;
The secret Venom circling in her Veins,
Works thro' her Skin, and bursts in bloating Stains;
Her Cheeks their Freshness lose, and wonted Grace,
And an unusal Paleness spreads her Face;
Her Eyes grow dim, and her corrupted Breath
Tainting her Gums, infects her Iv'ry Teeth;
Of sharp, nocturnal Anguish she complains,
And, guiltless of the Cause, relates her Pains.
The conscious Husband, whom like Symptoms seize,
Charges on her the Guilt of their Disease;
Affecting Fury acts a Madman's Part,
He'll rip the fatal Secret from her Heart;
Bids her confess, calls her ten thousand Names;
In vain she kneels, she weeps, protests, exclaims;
Scarce with her Life she 'scapes, expos'd to Shame,
In Body tortur'd, murder'd in her Fame,
Rots with a vile Adulteress's Name.
Abandon'd by her Friends, without Defence,
And happy only in her Innocence.

Such is the Vengeance the just Gods provide
For those who barter Liberty for Pride,
Who impiously invoke the Pow'rs above
To witness to false Vows of mutual Love.
Thousands of poor Cleora's may be found,
Such Husbands, and such wretched Wives abound.

Ye guardian Pow'rs! the Arbiters of Bliss,
Preserve Clarinda from a Fate like this;
You form'd her fair, not any Grace deny'd,
But gave, alas! a Spark too much of Pride.
Reform that Failing, and protect her still;
O save her from the Curse of choosing ill!
Deem it not Envy, or a jealous Care,
That moves these Wishes, or provokes this Pray'r;
Tho' worse than Death I dread to see those Charms
Allotted to some happier Mortals Arms,
Tormenting Thought! yet could I bear that Pain,
Or any Ill, but hearing her complain;
Intent on her, my Love forgets his own,
Nor frames one Wish, but for her sake alone;
Whome'er the Gods have destin'd to prefer,
They cannot make me wretched, blessing her.