Though his minx mix’d the mass, made his spouse pluck it out,
And likewise submit to a buffetting bout.
One time when he wanted his fingers to warm,
She fronted the fire, and thought of no harm;
Her seat he upset, and she fell on the floor,
Depriv’d of her senses for more than an hour.
As he and his harlot one time sat at tea,
To taste a bit toast, his own matron made free;
For which misdemeanor his concubine cog’d her,
And for the offence he unfeelingly flog’d her.