University of Virginia Library

EPILOGUE to the LAW of LOMBARDY, Written by the AUTHOR. Spoken by Miss YOUNGE.

Of all the Gothic laws I ever heard,
This Lombard Law was sure the most absurd:
What! could the monsters mean to make us die,
But for a little harmless gallantry?
Were such a barbarous custom now in fashion,
Good Lord! it would unpeople half the nation.
Scaffolds on scaffolds now the streets would fill,
As sign-posts did, before the paving-bill.
Were British law-makers such rigorous churls,
They'd hardly leave a head to wear false curls.
Besides, what champion now would risque his life,
To gain what most men shudder at—a wife.
Instead of arm'd knights, at trumpet's summons,
Commend me to our proctors, and the Commons.
There, though we lose our husbands, and our fame,
We get our portion, and a maiden name.
And if her fortune, and her charms remain,
Then Miss may wed—and be divorc'd again.
Yet, though these frolics have of late been common,
Lay not the blame entirely on weak woman.
The careless mate his rival recommends,
We find him 'midst his own obliging friends.
Some swain, who swears he lives but in our eyes,
And plies us with such cunning flatteries,
That spouse neglecting us, and lover wooing,
One strives, and t'other leads us, to our ruin.
So, if weak ladies, chance to go astray,
Their lords, methinks, are more in fault than they:
The goal of marriage reach'd, the men lie down,
Like weary racers when the prize is won;
Mere catching us alone their care engages;
The nets they spread, but never mind the cages.
The married gamester more delight can find,
In “Seven's the main,” than all dear womankind.
Acteon wedded, to our voice prefers
The sweeter music of his yelping curs;
While the dull sot, who his six bottles boasts,
Thinks women good for nothing—but for toasts.
Thus slighted for the glass, the hound, the die,
Our pride steps in, and to revenge we fly;
One obvious method only can preserve us,
Strive, by your own attentions, to deserve us;
And now, as formerly, be sure you'll prove,
Contempt will meet contempt, as love meets love.