The thirst for plays, for concerts and for balls,
The insolence of the servants, and the spurns
That patient husbands from their consorts take
When he himself might his quietus gain
By living single. Who would wish to hear
The jeering name of bachelor,
But that the dread of something after marriage
(Ah, that vast expenditure of income,
The tongue call scarcely tell) puzzles the will,
And makes us rather choose the single life,