To take the pestilence with poison’d breath,
And wed some potent minister of death,
Is cruel fate—yet death is then relief;
But thus to wed is ever-during grief.
Oft have I heard, how blest the youth who weds
Belinda Waters!—rather he who dreads
That fate—a truth her husband well approves, 140
Who blames and fondles, humours, chides, and loves.
TALE XVI.
THE DEALER AND CLERK.
I.