That, whose'er of cuckoldom 's afraid,
Let him but put it to his eager lips
If he's a cuckold, out the liquor slips;
He naught can swallow; and the whole is thrown
About his face or clothes, as oft 's been shown.
But should, from out his brow, no horns yet pop—
He drinks the whole, nor spills a single drop.
THE doubt to solve, our husband took a sup,
From this famed, formidably, magick cup;
Nor did he any of the liquor waste:—