FOND Woman! which wouldst have thy husband die,
And yet complain'st of his great Jealousy:
If swoln with poison he lay in his last bed,
His body with a sere-cloth covered,
Drawing his breath as thick and short as can
The nimblest crocheting musician,
Ready with loathsome vomiting to spue
His soul out of one hell into a new,
Made deaf with his poor kindred's howling cries,
Begging with few feign'd tears great legacies,
Thou wouldst not weep, but jolly' and frolic be,
As a slave which to-morrow should be free;
Yet weep'st thou when thou seest him hungerly
Swallow his own death, heart's-bane Jealousy.
O! give him many thanks, he's courteous,
That in suspecting kindly warneth us:
We must not, as we us'd, flout openly
In scoffing riddles his deformity;
Nor, at his board together being sate
With words, nor touch, scarce looks adulterate:
Nor when he, swoln and pamper'd with high fare,
Sits down and snorts, cag'd in his basket-chair,
Must we usurp his own bed any more,
Nor kiss and play in his house as before."
Now do I see my danger, for it is
His realm, his castle, and his diocese.
But if (as envious men, which would revile
Their prince, or coin his gold, themselves exile
Into another country', and do it there)
We play' in another's house, what should we fear?/-
There will we sco:n his household policies,
His silly plots and pensionary spies ; ·
As the inhabitants of Thames' right side
Do London's Mayor, or Germans the Pope's pride. 34
MARRY and love thy Flavia, for she
Hath all things whereby others beauteous be;
For tho' her eyes be small her mouth is great;
Tho' thei's be ivory, yet her teeth be jeat;
Though they be diu, yet she is light enough,
And tho' her harsh hair's foul, her skin is rough.
What tho' her cheeks be yellow, her hair's red;
Give her thine, and she hath a maidenhead.
These things are bea ty's elements; where these
Meet in one, that one must, as perfect, please.
If red and white, and each good quality,
Be in thy wench, ne'er ask where it doth lie.ale?
In buying things perfum'd, we ask if there sine ba
Be musk and amber in it, but not where,
Tho' all her parts be not in th' usual place,
She' hath yet the Anagrams of a good face.
If we might put the letters but one way,
In that lean dearth of words what could, we say ?
When by the gamut some musicians make
A perfect song, others will undertake,
By the same gamut chang'd, to equal it.
Things simply good can never be unfit;
She's fair as any, if all be like her;
And if none be, then she is singular.
All love is wonder: if we justly do
Account her wonderful, why not lovely too?
Love built on beauty soon as beauty dies:
Chuse this face, chang'd by no deformities.
Women are all like angels; the fair be
Like those which fell to worse; but such as she,
Like to good angels nothing can impair:
'Tis less grief to be foul than to' have been fair,
For one night's revels silk and gold we chuse,
But in long journies cloth and leather use.
Beauty is barren oft'; best husbands say
There is best land where there is foulest way.
Oh! what a sovereign plaister will she be,
If thy past sins have taught thee jealousy!
Here needs no spies nor eunuchs, her commit
Safe to thy foes, yea, to a marmoşit.
Like Belgia's cities, when the country drowns,
That dirty foulness guards and arms the towns;
So doth her face guard her; and so for thee
Who, forc'd by bus'ness, absent oft' must be:.
She, whose face, like clouds, turns the day to night,
Who, mightier than the sea, makes Moors seem white;
Whom, tho' seven years she in the stews had laid,
A nunnery durst receive, and think a maid;
And tho' in child-birth's labour she did lie,
Midwives would swear 'twere but a timpany;
Whom, if she' accuse herself, I credit less
Than witches, which impossibles confess.
One like none, and lik'd of none, fittest were;
For things in fashion every man will wear.
ALTHO' thy hand and faith, and good works too,
Have seal'd thy love, which nothing should undo,
Yea, tho' thou fall back, that apostasy
Confirms thy love; yet much, much I fear thee.
Women are, like the arts, forc'd unto none,
Open to all searchers, unpriz'd if unknown.
If I have caught a bird, and let him fly,
Another fowler, using those means as I,
May catch the same bird; and, as these things be,
Women are made for men, not him nor me,
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