Then would I next the Roman Field survey,
Where brave Fabricius with his Army lay;
Fam'd for his Valour, from Corruption free,
Made up of Courage and Humility.
That when Encamp'd the good Man lowly bent,
Cook'd his own Cabbage in his homely Tent:
And when the Samaites sent a Golden Sum,
To tempt him to betray his Country Rome,
The Dross he scoffingly return'd untold, }
And answer'd with a Look serenely bold, }
That Roman Sprouts would boil without their Grecian Gold: }
Then eat his Cale-worts for his Meal design'd,
And beat the Grecian Army when he'd din'd.
Thus wou'd I range the World from Pole to Pole;
To encrease my Knowledge, and delight my Soul;
Travel all Nations and inform my Sence;
With ease and safety, at a small Expence:
No Storms to plough, no Passengers Sums to pay,
No Horse to hire, or Guide to show the way,
No Alps to clime, no Desarts here to pass,
No Ambuscades, no Thief to give me chase;
No Bear to dread, or rav'nous Wolf to fight,
No Flies to sting, no Rattle-Snakes to bite;
No Floods to ford, no Hurricans to fear;
No dreadful Thunder to surprize the Ear;
No Winds to freeze, no Sun to scorch or fry,
No Thirst, or Hunger, and Relief not nigh.
All these Fatiegues and Mischiefs could I shun; }
Rest when I pleas'd, and when I please Jog on, }
And travel through both Indies in an Afternoon. }
When the Day thus far pleasingly was spent,
And every Hour admin'stred Content,
Then would I range the Fields, and flow'ry Meads,
Where Nature her exub'rant Bounty spreads,
In whose delightful Products does appear
Inimitable Beauty ev'ry where;
Contemplate on each Plant, and useful Weed,
And how its Form first lay involved in Seed,
How they're preserv'd by Providential Care,
For what design'd, and what their Virtues are.
Thus to my Mind by dint of Reason prove,
That all below is ow'd to Heaven above,
And that no Earthly Temporals can be,
But what must Center in Eternity.
Then gaze aloft, whence all things had their Birth,
And mount my prying Soul 'twixt Heaven and Earth,
Thus the sweet Harmonv o' th' whole admire, }
And by due Search new Learning still aquire, }
So nearer ev'ry day to Truths Divine aspire. }
When tir'd with thought, then from my Pocket pluck
Some friendly dear Companion of a Book,
Whose homely Calves-skin fences did contain
The Verbal Treasure of some Old good Man:
Made by long study and experience wise,
Whose piercing thoughts to Heavenly knowledge rise,
Amongst whose Pious Reliques I would find,
Rules for my Life, Rich Banquets for my mind,
Such pleasing Nectar, such Eternal Food,
That well digested, makes a Man a God;
And for his use at the same time prepares
On Earth a Heav'n in spight of worldly Cares,
The day in these Enjoyments would I spend,
But chuse at Night my Bottle and my Friend,
Took prudent care that neither were abus'd,
But with due Moderation both I us'd.
And in one sober Pint found more delight,
Then the insatiate Sot that swills all Night;
Ne'er drown my Senses, or my Soul debase.
Or drink beyond the relish of my blass
For in Excess good Heav'ns design is Crost,
In all Extreams the true Enjoyments lost,
Wine chears the Heart, and elevates the Soul,
But if we surfeit with too large a Bowl,
Wanting true Aim we th' happy Mark o'er Shoot,
And change the Heavenly Image to a Brute.
So the great Grecian who the World subdu'd,
And drown'd whole Nations in a Sea of Blood;
At last was Conquer'd by the Power of Wine,
And dy'd a Drunken Victime to the Vine.
My Friend, and I, when o'er our Bottle sat,
Mix'd with each Glass some inoffensive Chat,
Talk'd of the World's Affairs, but still kept free
From Passion, Zeal, or Partiality;
With honest freedom did our thoughts dispense,
And judg'd of all things with indifference;
Till time at last did our Delights invade,
And in due season separation made,
Then without Envy, Discord or Deceit,
Part like true Friends as loving as we meet.
The Tavern change to a domestick scene,
That sweet Retirement, tho it's ne'er so mean.
Thus leave each other in a Cheerful Plight,
T' enjoy the silent Pleasures of the Night,
When home return'd, my Thanks to Heaven pay,
For all the past kind Blessing of the Day;
No haughty Help-mate to my Peace molest,
No treacherous Snake to harbour in my Breast:
No fawning Mistress of the Female Art,
With Judas Kisses to betray my Heart;
No light-tail'd Hypocrite to raise my Fears,
No vile Impert'nence to torment my Ears;
No molted Off spring to disturb my Thought,
In Wedlock born but G——d knows where begot;
No lustful Massalina to require
Whole Troops of Men to feed her Brutal Fire?
No Family Cares my quiet to disturb;
No Head-strong Humours to asswage or Curb
No Jaring Servants, no Domestick strife, }
No Jilt, no Termagent, no Faithless Wife, }
With Vinegar or Gall, to sowre or bitter Life. }
Thus freed from all that could my Mind annoy,
Alone my self, I did my self enjoy:
When Nature call'd, I laid me down to rest,
With a sound Body, and a peaceful Breast;
Hours of Repose with Constancy I kept,
And Guardian Angels watch'd me as I slept,
In lively Dreams reviving as I lay,
The Pleasures of the last precedent day,
Thus whilst I singly liv'd, did I possess }
By Day and Night incessant Happiness, }
Content enjoy'd awak'd, and sleeping found no less. }
But the Curs'd Fiend from Hell's dire Regions sent,
Ranging the World to Man's Destruction bent,
Who with an Envious Pride beholding me,
Advanc'd by Virtue to Felicity,
Resolv'd his own Eternal wretched state,
Should be in part reveng'd by my sad Fate;
And to at once my happy Life betray
Flung Woman, Fathless Woman in my way:
Beauty she had, a seeming Modest Mein, }
All Charms without, but Devil all within, }
Which did not yet appear, but lurk'd, alas unseen. }
A fair Complexion far exceeding Paint,
Black sleepy Eyes that would have Charm'd a Saint;
Her Lips so soft and sweet, that ev'ry Kiss,
Seem'd a short Tast of the Eternal Bliss;
Her set of Teeth so Regular and White,
They'd show their Lustre in the darkest Night;
Round her Seraphick Face so fair and young,
Her Sable Hair in careless Dresses hung,
Which added to her beauteous Features, show'd
Like some fair Angel peeping through a Cloud?
Her Breasts, her Hands, and every Charm so bright,
She seem'd a Sun by Day, a Moon by Night;
Her shape so ravishing, that every Part,
Proportion'd was to the nicest Rules of Art:
So awful was her Carriage when she mov'd,
None could behold her, but he fear'd and lov'd,
She danc'd well, sung well, finely plaid the Lute,
Was always witty in her Words, or Mute;
Obliging, not reserv'd, nor yet too free,
But as a Maid divinely bless'd should be;
Not vainly gay, but decent in Attire, }
She seem'd so good, she could no more acquire }
Of Heaven, than what she had, & Man no more desire: }
Fortune, like God and Nature too was kind,
And to these Gifts a copious Sum had joyn'd
Who could the power of such Temptations shun;
What frozen Synick from her Charms could run:
What Cloister'd Monk could see a Face so bright, }
But quit his Beads and follow Beauty's Light, }
And by Its Lustre hope to shun Eternal Night. }
I so bewitch'd, and poyson'd with her Charms,
Believ'd the utmost Heaven was in her Arms,
Methoughts the Goodness, in her Eyes I see,
Spoke her the Off-spring of some Deity.
Now Books and Walks, would no content afford,
She was the only Good to be Ador'd.
In her fair Looks alone delight I found,
Love's raging Storms all other Joys had drown'd.
By Beauty's Ignis fatuus led astray,
Bound for Content, I lost my happy way
Of Reason's faithful Pilot now bereft,
Was amongst Rocks and Shelves in danger left,
There must have perish'd, as I fondly thought,
Lest her kind Usage my Salvation wrought;
Her happy Aid I labour'd to obtain,
Hop'd for Success, yet fear'd her sad Disdain,
Tortur'd like dying Convicts whilst they live,
'Twixt fear of Death, and hopes of a Reprieve.
First for her smallest Favours did I sue,
Crept, Fawn'd and Cring'd, as Lovers us'd to do?
Sigh'd e'er I spoke, and when I spoke look'd Pale,
In words confus'd disclos'd my mournful Tale?
Unpractised and Amour's fine Speeches coin'd,
But could not utter what I well design'd.
Warm'd by her Charms 'gainst Bashfulness I strove,
And trembling far, and stammer'd out my Love;
Told her how greatly I admir'd and fear'd,
Which she 'twixt Coyness and Compassion heard,
Grutch'd no Expence of Money, or of Time,
And thought that not to adore her was a Crime;
The more each Visit I acquainted grew,
Yet every time found something in her new.
Who was above her Sex so fortunate,
She had a Charm for Man in every State;
Beauty for the Youthful, Prudence for the Old,
Scripture for the Godly, for the Miser Gold;
Wit for the Ingenious, silence for the Grave,
Flatt'ry for the Fool, and Cunning for the Knave:
Compounded thus of such Varieties, }
She had a knack to every Temper please, }
And as her self thought fit was every one of these. }
I lov'd, I sigh'd and vow'd, talk'd, whin'd, and pray'd,
And at her Feet my panting Heart I lay'd;
She smil'd, then frown'd, was now reserv'd, then free,
And as she plaid her part, oft chang'd her Key;
Not through Fantastick Humour but Design,
To try me throughly e'er she should be mine,
Because she wanted in one Man to have,
A Husband, Lover, Cuckold and a Slave.
So Travellers, before a Horse they buy,
His Speed, his Paces, and his Temper try,
Whether he'll answer Whip and Spur, thence Judge,
If the poor Beast will prove a patient Drudge:
When she by wiles had heightned my Desire,
And fain'd Love's sparkles to a raging Fire;
Made now for Wedlock, or for Bedlam fit.
Thus Passion gain'd the upper-hand of Wit,
The Dame by pity, or by Interest mov'd,
Or else by Lust, pretended now she lov'd;
After long-sufferings, her Consent I got. }
To make me happy, as I hop'd and thought, }
But oh, the wretched hour I ty'd the Gordian Knot. }
Thus thro' mistake I rashly plung'd my Life
Into that Gulph of Miseries a Wife.
With joyful Arms I thus embrac'd my Fare,
Believ'd too soon, was undeceiv'd too late;
So hair-brain'd Fools to Indian Climates rove,
With a vain hope their Fortunes to improve;
There spend their slender Cargoes, then become
Worse Slaves abroad than e'er they were at home
When a few Weeks were wasted I compar'd,
With all due moderation and regard,
My former freedom, with my new restraint,
Judging which State afforded most content.
But found a single Life as calm and gay,
As the delightful Month of blooming May,
Not chill'd with Cold, or scorch'd with too much heat. }
Not plagu'd with flying Dust, nor drown'd with wet, }
But pleasing to the Eyes, and to the Nostrils sweet. }
But Wedlock's like the blustring Month of March,
That does the Body's Maims and Bruises search,
Brings by cold nipping Storms unwelcom Pains,
And finds, or breeds, Distempers in our Veins;
Renews old Sores, and hastens on Decay,
And seldom does afford one pleasant Day.
But Clouds dissolve, or raging Tempest blow,
And untile Houses, like the wrangling Shrow;
Thus March and Marriage justly may be said, }
To be alike, then sure the Man is Mad, }
That loves such changling Weather where the best is bad. }
Though I once happy in a single Life,
Yet Shipwrack'd all upon that Rock a Wife.
By Gold and Beauties Powerful Charms betray'd,
To the dull drugery of a Marriage-Bed;
That Paradise for Fools, a Sport for Boys,
Tiresom its Chains, and brutal are its Joys,
Thou nauseous Priestcraft that to soon appear'd,
Not as I hop'd, but worse than what I fear'd.
All her soft Charms which I believ'd divine,
Marriage I thought had made them only mine;
Vain hope, alas for I too early found,
My Brows were with the Throne of Wedlock crown'd,
Jealousies, first from Reason rais'd a doubt,
And Fatal Chance th' unhappy Truth brought out;
Made it so plain from all Pretences free'd.
That wicked Woman no Excuse could plead;
And if she wants device to hide her Shame,
Hell can no Umbrage for Audult'ry frame.
I though it prudence the Disgrace to hide,
Tho' rav'd and Storm'd, she Pardon beg'd and Cry'd.
Yet with false Protestations strove to Charm:
The Cuckold to believe she'd done no harm,
Tho' taken by surprize (O curse the Day)
Where all the Marks of past Enjoyment lay,
And she disorder'd by her lustful freeks
Had Shame and Horrour strugling in her Cheeks:
Yet, made Essays to clear her Innocence,
And hide her guilt with Lyes and Impudence;
For lustful Women like a vicious State,
Oft stifle Ills by others full as great,
But I convinc'd too plainly of her Guilt,
All her false Oaths and quick inventions spoilt,
Which when she'd used in vain she blush'd and cry'd,
And own'd her fault she found she could not hide.