Sir John Dering: A romantic comedy

by Jeffery Farnol

She is but Satan’s chiefest snare.

Wherefore, then, of her wiles beware:

They bring woe.”

“Hoot awa’!” ejaculated Sir Hector indignantly. “’Tis rankest blasphemy!”

“’Tis very truth! And faith, it reads better than I thought. Mark this line, Hector, ‘She is but Satan’s chiefest snare.’ ’Tis apt, Hector; ’tis well expressed and should commend itself to all philosophers! Now, hear the rest—nay, you must and shall! ’Tis brief, yet pithy.” And Sir John read forthwith:

“Therefore, who’d lead a quiet life,

Unmarred by turmoil, care and strife,

Avoid that dreadful thing called ‘wife’;

She’ll plague you!