One meek and fair I wish to gain,
Young, wealthy, too, and nobly bred;
You’re crazy—batter out your brain!
Consider! Grief can you sustain?
Women have tempers bold and dread;
When for a dish of eggs you’re fain,
Broth, cheese, you’ll have before you spread:
Now free, you’ll be a slave instead—
When married, you yourself have slain.
Think well. My first resolve is said;