She stopp'd, and fighing: Oh good gods! she cry'd,

What pangs, what sudden shoots, diftend my side!
Of for that tempting fruit, fo fresh, so green;
Help, for the love of heaven's immortal Queen!
Help, deareft lord, and fave at once the life
Of thy poor infant, and thy longing wife!

Sore figh'd the knight to hear his lady's cry,
But could not climb, and had no fervant nigh:
Old as he was, and void of eye-fight too,
What could, alas! a helpless husband do?
And must I languish then, she said, and die,
Yet view the lovely fruit before my eye?
At least, kind Sir, for charity's fweet fake,
Vouchsafe the trunk between your arms to take;
Then from your back I might ascend the tree;
Do you but ftoop, and leave the rest to me.

With all my foul, he thus reply'd again,
I'd spend my dearest blood to ease thy pain.
With that, his back against the trunk he bent,
She feiz'd a twig, and up the tree she went.

Now prove your patience, gentle ladies all!
Nor let on me your heavy anger fall:
"Tis truth I tell, though not in phrase refin'd;
Though blunt my tale, yet honeft is my mind.
What feats the lady in the tree might do,
I país, as gambols never known to you;
But fure it was a merrier fit, fhe swore,
Than in her life fhe ever felt before.

In that nice moment, lo! the wondering knight

Look'd out, and stood restor'd to sudden fight.
Straight on the tree his eager eyes he bent,
As one whofe thoughts were on his spouse intent;
But when he faw his bofom-wife fo drefs'd,
His rage was fuch as cannot be exprefs'd;
Not frantic mothers when their infants die,
With louder clamours rend the vaulted sky:
He cry'd, he roar'd, he ftorm'd, he tore his hair;
Death! hell! and furies! what dost thou do there?
What ails my lord? the trembling dame re-
ply'd;

I thought your patience had been better try'd :
Is this your love, ungrateful and unkind,
This my reward for having cur'd the blind?
Why was I taught to make my husband fee,
By ftruggling with a man upon a tree?
Did I for this the power of magic prove?
Unhappy wife, whofe crime was too much love!
If this be struggling, by this holy light,
'Tis struggling with a vengeance (quoth the
knight):

So Heaven preferve the fight it has restor'd;
As with thefe eyes I plainly faw thee whor'd;
Whor'd by my flave-perfidious wretch! may
hell

As furely feize thee, as I faw too well!

Guard me, good angels! cry'd the gentle May, Pray heaven, this magic work the proper way! Alas, my love! 'tis certain, could you see, You ne'er had us'd these killing words to me : So help me, fates, as 'tis no perfect fight, But fome faint glimmering of a doubtful light,

What I have faid (quoth he) I must maintain,

cry'd)

On bare fufpicion thus to treat your bride.
But, till your fight's eftablifh'd, for a while,
Imperfect objects may your sense beguile.
Thus when from fleep we firft our eyes difplay,7
The balls are wounded with the piercing ray,
And dufky vapours rife, and intercept the day.
So, juft recovering from the fhades of night,
Your swimming eyes are drunk with fudden
light,
[your fight:
Strange phantoms dance around, and fkim before
Then, Sir, be cautious, nor too rafhly deem;
Heaven knows how feldom things are what they

feem!

Confult your reason, and you foon fhall find
"Twas you were jealous, not your wife unkind :
Jove ne'er fpoke oracle more true than this,
None judge fo wrong as those who think amifs.

With that the leap'd into her lord's embrace,
With well-diffembled virtue in her face.
He hugg'd her close, and kiss'd her o'er and o'er,
Disturb'd with doubts and jealoufies no more:
Both, pleas'd and blefs'd, renew'd their mutual

Vows,

A fruitful wife, and a believing spouse.

Thus ends our tale; whofe moral next to make, Let all wife husbands hence example take; And pray, to crown the pleasure of their lives, To be fo well deluded by their wives.

THE WIFE OF BATH,

HER PROLOGUE.

FROM CHAUCER.

BEHOLD the woes of matrimonial life,
And hear with reverence an experienc'd wife!
To dear-bought wisdom give the credit due,
And think, for once, a woman tells you true.
In all these trials I have borne a part,

I was myself the fcourge that caus'd the smart;
For, fince fifteen, in triumph have I led
Five captive hufbands from the church to bed.

Chrift faw a wedding once, the scripture says,

Whence fome infer, whofe confcience is too nice,
No pious Chriftian ought to marry twice.

But let them read, and folve me, if they can,
The words addrefs'd to the Samaritan :
Five times in lawful wedlock fhe was join'd;
And fure the certain stint was ne'er defin'd.

“Increase and multiply,” was heaven's command,

And that's a text I clearly understand.
This too," Let men their fires and mothers leave,
And to their dearer wives for ever cleave."
More wives than one by Solomon were try'd,
Or else the wifeft of mankind's bely'd.
I've had myself full many a merry fit;
And truft in heaven, I may have many yet,
For when my tranfitory fpoufe, unkind,
Shall die, and leave his woeful wife behind,
I'll take the next good Chriftian I can find.

Paul, knowing one could never ferve our turn,
Declar'd 'twas better far to wed than burn.
There's danger in affembling fire and tow;
I grant them that, and what it means you know.
The fame apoftle too has elsewhere own'd,
No precept for virginity he found:
'Tis but a counfel-and we women still
Take which we like, the counsel, or our will.
I envy not their blifs, if he or she
Think fit to live in perfect chastity;
Pure let them be, and free from taint of vice;
1, for a few flight fpots, am not so nice.
Heaven calls us different ways, on thefe beftows
One proper gift, another grants to thofe :
Not every man's obliged to fell his store,
And give up all his fubftance to the poor;
Such as are perfect may, I can't deny;
But, by your leaves, divines, fo am not I.

Full many a faint, fiuce first the world began,
Liv'd an unfpotted maid, in spite of man :
Let fuch (a-God's name) with fine wheat be fed,
And let us honeft wives eat barley bread.
For me, I'll keep the poft affign'd by heaven,
And ufe the copious talent it has given :
Let my good spouse pay tribute, do me right,
And keep an equal reckoning every night.
His proper body is not his, but mine;
For to faid Paul, and Paul's a found divine.
Know then, of those five hufbands I have had,
Three were just tolerable, two were bad.
The three were old, but rich and fond befide,
And toil'd moft piteously to please their bride:
But fince their wealth (the beft they had) was
mine,

The reft, without much lofs, I could refign.
Sure to be lov'd, I took no pains to pleate,
Yet had more pleasure far than they had eafe.
Prefents flow'd in apace: with fhowers of gold,
They made their court, like Jupiter of old.
If 1 but smil'd, a fudden youth they found,
And a new palsy seiz'd them when I frown'd.
Ye fovereign wives! give car and understand,
Thus fhall ye speak, and exercise command.
For never was it given to mortal man,
To lie fo boldly as we women can :
Forfwear the fact, though feen with both his
And call your maids to witness how he lies.

[eyes,

Hark, old Sir Paul! ('twas thus I us'd to fay)
Whence is our neighbour's wife fo rich and gay
Treated, carefs'd, where'er the's pleas'd to roam
I fit in tatters, and immur'd at hote.
Why to her house doft thou fo oft repair
Art thou fo amorous? and is the fo fair?
If I but fee a coufin or a friend,

Lord how you fwell, and rage like any fi
But you reel home, a drunken beastly bear,
Then preach till midnight in your easy chair
Cry, wives are falfe, and every woman evil
And give up all that 's female to the devil.

If poor (you fay) fhe drains her husband's purfe If rich, fhe keeps her priest, or fomething worse; If highly born, intolerably vain,

Vapours and pride by turns poffefs her brain,
Now gayly mad, now fourly fplenetic;
Freakish when well, and fretful when she's fick.
If fair, then chafte fhe cannot long abide,
By preffing youth attack'd on every fide;
If foul, her wealth the lufty lover lures,
Or elfe her wit fome fool-gallant procures,
Or else the dances with becoming grace,
Or fhape excufes the defects of face.
There fwims no goofe so grey, but, foon or late,
She finds fome honeft gander for her mate.

Horfes (thou fay'ft) and affes men may try,
And ring fufpected veffels ere they buy:
But wives, a random choice, untry'd they take;
They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake:
Then, nor till then, the veil's removed away,
And all the woman glares in open day.

You tell me, to preferve your wife's good grace,
Your eyes must always languifh on my face,
Your tongue with conftant flatteries feed my ear,
And tag each fentence with, My life! my dear!
If by ftrange chance, a modeft blush be rais'd,
Be fure my fine complexion must be prais'd.
My garments always must be new and gay,
And feasts still kept upon my wedding day.
Then must my nurfe be pleas'd, and favourite
maid;

And endless treats, and endless visits paid,
To a long train of kindred, friends, allies.
All this thou fay'ft, and all thou fay'st are lies.

On Jenkin too you caft a squinting eye:
What! can your 'prentice raife your jealoufy?
Fresh are his ruddy cheeks, his forehead fair,
And like the burnish'd gold his curling hair.
But clear thy wrinkled brow, and quit thy forrow,
I'd fcorn your 'prentice, fhould you die to-mor-

row.

Why are thy chefts all lock'd? on what design? Are not thy worldly goods and treasure mine? Sir, I'm no fool; nor fhall you, by St. John, Have goods and body to yourself alone. One you fhall quit, in fpite of both your eyes→→→ I heed not, I, the bolts, and locks and fpies. If you had wit, you'd fay, "Go where you will, "Dear spouse, I credit not the tales they tell : "Take all the freedoms of a married life; "I know thee for a virtuous, faithful wife." Lord! when you have enough, what need you

care

How merrily foever others fare?

Though all the day I give and take delight,
Doubt not. fufficient will be left at night.
'Tis but a juft and rational defire,
To light a taper at a neighbour's fire.

There's danger too, you think, in rich array,
And none can long be modeft that are gay.
The cat, if you but finge her tabby skin,
The chimney keeps, and fits content within;
But once grown fleek, will from her corner run,
Sport with nor tail, and wanton in the fun;
She licks her fair round face, and frisks abroad,
To fhew her fur, and to be catterwaw'd.

Lo thus, my friends, I wrought to my defires These three right ancient venerable fires. I told them, thus you fay, and thus you do, And told them falfe, but Jenkin fwore 'twas true. J, like a dog, could bite as well as whine, And first complain'd, whene'er the guilt was mine.

I tax'd them oft with wenching and amours. When their weak legs fcarce dragg'd them out of doors;

And fwore the ramb'es that I took by night,
Were all to fpy what damfels they bedight.
That colour brought me many hours of mirth;
For all this wit is given us from our birth.
Heaven gave to women the peculiar grace,
To ipin, to weep, and cully human race.
By this nice conduct, and this prudent course,
By murmuring, wheedling, ftratagem, and force,
I ftill prevail'd, and would be in the right,
Or curtain-lectures made a reftless night.
If once my husband's aim was o'er my fide,
What! fo familiar with your fpouse? I cry'd:
I levied firft a tax upon his need:
Then let him-'twas a nicety indeed!
Let all mankind this certain maxim hold,
Marry who will, our fex is to be fold.
With empty hands no taffels you can lure,
But fulfome love for gain we can endure;
For gold we love the impotent and old,

And heave, and pant, and kifs, and cling, for gold,

Yet with embraces, curfes oft I mix'd,

Then kifs'd again, and chid, and rail'd betwixt.
Well, I may make my will in peace, and die.
For not one word in nian's arrears am I.
To drop a dear difpute I was unable,
Ev'n though the Pope himself had fat at table.
But when my point was gain'd, then thus I fpoke:
Billy, , my dear, how theepishly you look!
Approach, my fpoufe, and let me kifs thy cheek;
"Thou shouldst be always thus, refign'd and

66

"meek!

"Of Job's great patience fince fo oft you preach, "Well fhould you practife, who fo well can teach, 'Tis difficult to do, I muft allow, "But I, my deareft, will inftruct you how. "Great is the bleffing of a prudent wife, "Who puts a period to domeftic strife. "One of us two muft rule, and one obey; "And fince in man right reafon bears the fway, "Let that frail thing,weak woman, have her way. "The wives of all my family have rul'd

Fy, 'tis unmanly thus to figh and grean;lone? "What! would you have me to yourself a rt! Why take me, love! take all and every pa heart. "Here's your revenge! you love it at your "Would I vouchfafe to fell what nature gave, "You little think what custom I could have, "But fee! I'm all your own-nay hold-for "fhame; [blame." "What means my dear-indeed-you are to Thus with my first three lords I past my life; A very woman, and a very wife. What Tums from thefe old fpoufes I could raise, Procur'd young husbands in my riper days Though paft my bloom, not yet decay'd was I, Wanton and wild, and chatter'd like a pic. In country dances ftill I bore the bell, And fung as fweet as evening Philomel. To clear my quailpipe, and refresh my foul Full oft I drain'd the spicy nut brown bowl; Rich lufcious wines, that youthful blood improve, And warm the fwelling veins to feats of love: For 'tis as fure, as cold engenders hail, A liquorifh mouth must have a lecherous tail Wine lets no lover unrewarded go, As all true gamefters by experience know,

But oh, good gods! whene'er a thought I caft On all the joys of youth and beauty past, To find in pleasures I have had my part, Still warms me to the bottom of my heart. This wicked world was once my dear delight; Now all my conquefts, all my charms, good night! The flour confum'd the beft that now I can, Is e'n to make my market of the bran.

My fourth dear fpoufe was not exceeding true;
He kept, 'twas thought, a private mifs or two;
But all that fcore I paid-as how? you'll fay,
Not with my body, in a filthy way:

But I fo drefs'd, and danc'd, and drank, and din'de
And view'd a friend with eyes fo very kind,
As ftung his heart, and made his marrow fry
With burning rage, and frantic jealousy.
His foul, I hope, enjoys eternal glory,
For here on earth I was his purgatory.
Oft, when his fhoe the moft feverely wrung,
He put on careless airs, and fat and fung.
How fore I gall'd him, only heaven could know,
And he that felt, and I that caus'd the woe.
He dy'd, when laft from pilgrimage I came,
With other goflips, from Jerufalem;
And now lies buried underneath a rood,
Fair to be feen, and rear'd of honett wood:
A tomb indeed, with fewer sculptures grac❜d
Than that Maufolus' pious widow plac'd,
Or where infrin'd the great Darius lay;
But coft on graves is merely thrown away.
The pit fill'd up, with turf we cover'd o'er;
So bleft the good man's foul, I fay no more.

Now for my fifth lov'd lord, the laft and beft
(Kind heaven afford him everlasting reft!)
Full hearty was his love, and I can show
The tokens on my ribs in black and blue;
Yet, with a knack, my heart he could have won,
While yet the fmart was fhooting in the bone.
How quaint an appetite in women reigns!

Let men avoid us, and on them we leap;
A glutted market makes provifion cheap.

In pure good will I took this jovial spark,
Of Oxford he, a most egregious clerk.
He boarded with a widow in the town,
A trufty goffip, one dame Allifon.
Full well the fecrets of my foul she knew,
Better than e'er our parish-priest could do.
To her I told whatever could befall:
Had but my husband pifs'd against a wall,
Or done a thing that might have coft his life,
She and my niece-and one more worthy wife,
Had known it all: what moft he would conceal,
To thefe I made no fcruple to reveal.
Oft has he blush'd from ear to ear for shame,
That e'er he told a fecret to his dame.

It fo befel, in holy time of Lent, That oft a day I to this goflip went (My husband, thank my itars, was out of town); From house to house we rambled up and down, This clerk, myself, and my good neighbour Alfe, To fee, be feen, to tell, and gather tales. Vifits to every church we daily paid, And march'd in every holy mafquerade, The ftations duly and the vigils kept; Not much we fafted, but fearce ever flept. At fermons too I fhone in fcarlet gay; The wafting moths ne'er fpoil'd my best array; The caufe was this, I wore it every day. 'Twas when fresh May her early bloffom yields, This clerk and I were walking in the fields, We grew fo intimate, I can't tell how,

}

1 pawn'd my honour, and engag'd my vow,
If e'er I laid my husband in his urn,
That he, and only he, thould ferve my turn.
We straight struck hands, the bargain was agreed;
I ftill have shifts against a time of need:
The mouse that always trufts to one poor hole,
Can never be a moufe of any foul.

I vow'd, I scarce could fleep fince firft I knew him,

}

And durft be fworn he had bewitch'd me to him;
If e'er I flept, I dream'd of him alone,
And dreams foretel, as learned men have shown.
All this I faid; but dreams, firs, I had none :
I follow'd but my crafty crony's lore,
Who bid me tell this lie-and twenty more.
Thus day by day, and month by month we paft;
It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last.
I tore my gown, I foil'd my locks with duft,
And beat my breafts, as wretched widows-muft.
Before my face my handkerchief I fpread,
To hide the flood of tears I did not fhed.
The good man's coffin to the church was borne;
Around, the neighbours, and my clerk too, mourn,
But as he march'd, good gods! he fhow'd a pair
Of legs and feet, fo clean, fo ftrong, so fair!
Of twenty winters age he feem'd to be;
1 (to fay truth) was twenty more than he;
But vigorous ftill, a lively buxom dame;
And had a wonderous gift to quench a flame.
A conjuror once, that deeply could divine,
Affur'd me, Mars in Taurus was my fign.
As the ftars order'd, fuch my life has been:

Fair Venus gave me fire and fprightly grace,
And Mars affurance and a dauntless face.
By virtue of this powerful conftellation,

I follow'd always my own inclination.
But to my tale: A month fcarce pafs'd away,
With dance and fong we kept the nuptial day.'
All I poffefs'd I gave to his command,

My goods and chattels, money, house, and land;
But oft repented, and repent it still;

He prov'd a rebel to my foverign will:
Nay once, by heaven, he ftruck me on the face;
Hear but the fact, and judge yourselves the cafe.
Stubborn as any lionefs was I;

And knew full well to raise my voice on high;
As true a rambler as I was before,

And would be fo, in fpite of all he swore.
He against this right fagely would advise,
And old examples fet before my eyes,
Tell how the Roman matrons led their life,
Of Gracchus' mother, and Duilius' wife;
And close the fermon, as befeem'd his wit,
With fome grave fentence out of holy writ.
Oft would he fay, who builds his houfe on fands
Pricks his blind horfe across the fallow lands;
Or lets his wife abroad with pilgrims roam,
Deferves a fool's cap, and long ears at home.
All this avail'd not; for whoe'er he be
That tells my faults, I hate him mortally;
And fo do numbers more, I boldly say,
Men, women, clergy, regular, and lay.

My fpoufe (who was, you know, to learning bred)

A certain treatife oft at evening read,

Where divers authors (whom the devil confound
For all their lies), were in one volume hound,
Valerius, whole: and of St. Jerome, part;
Chryúppus and Tertullian, Ovid's art,
Solomon's Proverbs, Eloifa's loves;

And many more than fure the church approves.
More legends were there here of wicked wives,
Than good in all the Bible and faints lives.
Who drew the lion vanquish'd? 'Twas a man.
But could we women write as fcholars can, [ness,
Men fhould stand mark'd with far more wicked-
Than all the fons of Adam could redrefs.
Love feldom haunts the breast where learning lies,
And Venus fets e'er Mercury can rise.
Those play the scholars, who can't play the men,
And ufe that weapon which they have, their pen;
When old, and past the relish of delight,
Then down they fit, and in their dotage write,
That not one woman keeps her marriage vow.
(This by the way, but to my purpose now).

It chanc'd my husband, on a winters night,
Read in his book, aloud, with strange delight,
How the first female (as the Scriptures fhow)
Brought her own spouse, and all his race, to woc.
How Simfon fell; and he whom Dejanire
Wrapp'd in th' envenom'd fhirt, and fet on fire.
How curs'd Eryphile her lord betray'd,
And the dire ambush Clytemnestra laid.
But what most pleas'd him was the Cretan dame,
And hufband-bull-oh, monftrous fie for fhame!
He had by heart the whole detail of woe

Though all the day I give and take delight,
Doubt not. fufficient will be left at night.
'Tis but a just and rational defire,
To light a taper at a neighbour's fire.

There's danger too, you think, in rich array,
And none can long be modeft that are gay.
The cat, if you but finge her tabby skin,
The chimney keeps, and fits content within;
But once grown fleek, will from her corner run,
Sport with no tail, and wanton in the fun;
She licks her fair round face, and frisks abroad,
To fhew her fur, and to be catterwaw'd.

Lo thus, my friends, I wrought to my defires These three right ancient venerable fires. I told them, thus you fay, and thus you do, And told them falfe, but Jenkin fwore 'twas true. I, like a dog, could bite as well as whine, And firft complain'd, whene'er the guilt was

mine.

I tax'd them oft with wenching and amours. When their weak legs fcarce dragg'd them out of doors;

And fwore the ramb'es that I took by night,
Were all to fpy what damfels they bedight.
That colour brought me many hours of mirth;
For all this wit is given us from our birth.
Heaven gave to women the peculiar grace,
To fpin, to weep, and cully human race.
By this nice conduct, and this prudent course,
By murmuring, wheedling, ftratagem, and force,
I ftill prevail'd, and would be in the right,
Or curtain-lectures made a reftless night.
If once my husband's aim was o'er my fide,
What! fo familiar with your spouse? I cry'd:
I levied first a tax upon his need:
Then let him-'twas a nicety indeed!
Let all mankind this certain maxim hold,
Marry who will, our fex is to be fold.
With empty hands no taffels you can lure,
But fulfome love for gain we can endure;
For gold we love the impotent and old,

And heave, and pant, and kifs, and cling, for gold,

Yet with embraces, curfes oft I mix'd,

Then kifs'd again, and chid, and rail'd betwixt. Well, I may make my will in peace, and die. For not one word in man's arrears am I. To drop a dear difpute I was unable, Ev'n though the Pope himself had fat at table. But when my point was gain'd, then thus I fpoke: "Billy, my dear, how sheepishly you look! "Approach, my fpoufe, and let me kifs thy cheek; "Thou should be always thus, refign'd and "meek!

"Of Job's great patience fince fo oft you preach, "Well fhould you practife, who fo well can teach,

l'is difficult to do, I muft allow, "But I, my deareft, will inftruct you how. "Great is the bleffing of a prudent wife, "Who puts a period to domeftic ftrife. "One of us two muft rule, and one obey "And fince in man right reafon bears the way, "Let that frail thing,weak woman, have her way.. "The wives of all my family have rul'd

Fy, 'tis unmanly thus to figh and grean;lone? "What! would you have me to yourself a rt! "Why take me, love! take all and every pa heart. "Here's your revenge! you love it at your "Would I vouchfafe to fell what nature gave, "You little think what custom I could have, "But fee! I'm all your own-nay hold-for "fhame; [blame." "What means my dear-indeed-you are te Thus with my first three lords I past my life; A very woman, and a very wife. What Tums from thefe old fpoufes I could raise, Procur'd young husbands in my riper days. Though paft my bloom, not yet decay'd was I, Wanton and wild, and chatter'd like a pic. In country dances ftill I bore the bell, And fung as fweet as evening Philomel. To clear my quailpipe, and refresh my foul Full oft I drain'd the spicy nut brown bowl; Rich lufcious wines, that youthful blood improve, And warm the fwelling veins to feats of love: For 'tis as fure, as cold engenders hail,

A liquorifh mouth must have a lecherous tail
Wine lets no lover unrewarded go,
As all true gamefters by experience know.

But oh, good gods! whene'er a thought I caft
On all the joys of youth and beauty pait,
To find in pleafures I have had my part,
Still warms me to the bottom of my heart.
This wicked world was once my dear delight;
Now all my conquefts, all my charms, good night!
The flour confum'd the beft that now I can,
Is e'n to make my market of the bran.

My fourth dear spouse was not exceeding true;
He kept, 'twas thought, a private mifs or two;
But all that fcore I paid-as how? you'll fay,
Not with my body, in a filthy way:

But I fo drefs'd, and danc'd, and drank, and din'de
And view'd a friend with eyes fo very kind,
As flung his heart, and made his marrow fry
With burning rage, and frantic jealouly.
His foul, I hope, enjoys eternal glory,
For here on earth I was his purgatory.
Oft, when his fhoe the most feverely wrung,
He put on careless airs, and fat and fung.
How fore I gall'd him, only heaven could know,
And he that felt, and I that caus'd the woe.
He dy'd, when laft from pilgrimage I came,
With other goflips, from Jerufalem;
And now lies buried underneath a rood,
Fair to be feen, and rear'd of honeft wood:
A tomb indeed, with fewer fculptures grac'd
Than that Maufolus pious widow plac'd,
Or where infhrin'd the great Darius lay;
But coft on graves is merely thrown away.
The pit fill'd up, with turf we cover'd o'er;
So bleft the good man's foul, I fay no more.

Now for my fifth lov'd lord, the last and best
(Kind heaven afford him everlasting reft!)
Full hearty was his love, and I can how
The tokens on my ribs in black and blue;
Yet, with a knack, my heart he could have won,
While yet the fmart was fhooting in the bone.
How quaint an appetite in women reigns!