Full oft I drain'd the spicy nut-brown bowl;
Rich luscious wines, that youthful blood improve,
And warm the swelling veins to feats of love:
For 'tis as sure, as cold engenders hail,

215

A liqu'rish mouth must have a lech'rous tail;
Wine lets no lover unrewarded go,

As all true gamesters by experience know.

But oh, good Gods! whene'er a thought I cast
On all the joys of youth and beauty past,
To find in pleasures I have had my part,
Still warms me to the bottom of my heart.
This wicked world was once my dear delight;
Now all my conquests, all my charms, good night!
The flour consum'd, the best that now I can,
Is e'en to make my market of the bran.

My fourth dear spouse was not exceeding true;
He kept, 'twas thought, a private miss or two:
But all that score I paid-as how? you'll say,
Not with my body in a filthy way:

220

225

230

But I so dress'd and danc'd, and drank, and din'd,

And view'd a friend, with eyes so very kind,

As stung his heart, and made his marrow fry,

235

With burning rage and frantic jealousy.

His soul, I hope, enjoys eternal glory,
For here on earth I was his purgatory.

Oft, when his shoe the most severely wrung,
He put on careless airs, and sat and sung.

242

How sore I gall'd him, only heav'n could know,
And he that felt, and I that caus'd the woe.
He died, when last from pilgrimage I came,
With other gossips, from Jerusalem;
And now lies buried underneath a Rood,
Fair to be seen, and rear'd of honest wood.
A tomb indeed with fewer sculptures grac'd,
Than that Mausolus' pious widow plac'd,
Or where inshrin'd the great Darius lay;
But cost on graves is merely thrown away.
The pit fill'd up, with turf we cover'd o'er;

245

250

So bless the good man's soul, I say no more.

Now for my fifth lov'd Lord, the last and best;

(Kind heav'n afford him everlasting rest)

Full hearty was his love, and I can shew,
The tokens on my ribs in black and blue;

255

Yet, with a knack, my heart he could have won,
While yet the smart was shooting in the bone.
How quaint an appetite in women reigns!

Free gifts we scorn, and love what costs us pains:

260

Let men avoid us, and on them we leap;

A glutted market makes provision cheap.

In pure good will I took this jovial spark,

Of Oxford he, a most egregious clerk.
He boarded with a widow in the town,

265

A trusty gossip, one dame Alison.
Full well the secrets of my soul she knew,
Better than e'er our parish Priest could do.
To her I told whatever could befall:
Had but my husband piss'd against a wall,
Or done a thing that might have cost his life,
She and my niece-and one more worthy wife,
Had known it all: what most he would conceal,
To these I made no scruple to reveal.
Oft has he blush'd from ear to ear for shame,
That e'er he told a secret to his dame.

It so befel, in holy time of Lent,
That oft a day I to this gossip went;
(My husband, thank my stars, was out of town)
From house to house we rambled up and down,
This clerk, myself, and my good neighbour Alse,
To see, be seen, to tell, and gather tales.
Visits to ev'ry Church we daily paid,
And march'd in ev'ry holy Masquerade,
The Stations duly, and the Vigils kept;
Not much we fasted, but scarce ever slept.

270

275

280

285

At Sermons too I shone in scarlet gay,

The wasting moth ne'er spoil'd my best array;

The cause was this, I wore it ev'ry day.

'Twas when fresh May her early blossoms yields,

29༠

That he, and only he, should serve my turn.

295

We straight struck hands, the bargain was agreed;

I still have shifts against a time of need:
The mouse that always trusts to one poor hole,
Can never be a mouse of any soul.

I vow'd, I scarce could sleep since first I knew him

300

And durst be sworn he had bewitch'd me to him;
If e'er I slept, I dream'd of him alone,

And dreams foretell, as learned men have shown:
All this I said; but dream, sirs, I had none:
I follow'd but my crafty Crony's lore,
Who bid me tell this lie-and twenty more..

}

305

Thus day by day, and month by month we past;

It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last.

I tore my gown, I soil'd my locks with dust,
And beat my breasts, as wretched widows-must.
Before my face my handkerchief I spread,
To hide the flood of tears I did not shed.
The good man's coffin to the Church was borne;
Around, the neighbours, and my clerk too, mourn.
But as he march'd, good Gods! he show'd a pair
Of legs and feet, so clean, so strong, so fair!
Of twenty winters age he seem'd to be;

310

315

He wept, kind soul! and stoop'd to kiss my face;
I took him such a box as turn'd him blue,
Then sigh'd and cry'd, "Adieu, my dear, adieu!"
But after many a hearty struggle past,

I condescended to be pleas'd at last.
Soon as he said, "My mistress and my wife,
Do what you list, the term of all your life:"
I took to heart the merits of the cause,

And stood content to rule by wholesome laws;
Receiv'd the reins of absolute command,
With all the government of house and land,
And empire o'er his tongue, and o'er his hand.
As for the volume that revil'd the dames,
'Twas torn to fragments, and condemn'd to flames.
Now heav'n on all my husbands gone bestow
Pleasures above, for tortures felt below:
That rest they wish'd for, grant them in the grave,
And bless those souls my conduct help'd to save.

425

430

435

THE FIRST BOOK

OF

STATIUS HIS THEBAIS.

Translated in the Year 1703.

[The First Book of the Thebais of Statius was published in 1712, in Lintot's Miscellany. Pope had tried his hand at translating part of Statius before he was twelve years of age; and his efforts were revised by his early friend Henry Cromwell, so mysteriously described by Gay in Alexander Pope his safe return from Troy as 'honest hatless Cromwell, with red breeches.'-P. Papinius Statius, born at Naples about 50 A.D. was the most popular poet of the Flavian epoch, and besides his epics, the Thebais (in 12 books) and the Achilleis (in 2), wrote the Sylva (5 books of occasional pieces). Of his Thebais, said to have been founded on the Greek poem by Antimachus, a criticism will be found in Merivale's Romans under the Empire, chap. LXIV., where it is designated as perhaps the most perfect in form and arrangement of ancient epics, but confused in its general effect from want of breadth and largeness of treatment.]

ARGUMENT.

EDIPUS King of Thebes having by mistake slain his father Laius, and marry'd his mother Jocasta, put out his own eyes, and resign'd the realm to his sons Eteocles and Polynices. Being neglected by them, he makes his prayer to the fury Tisiphone, to sow debate betwixt the brothers. They agree at last to reign singly, each a year by turns, and the first lot is obtain'd by Eteocles. Jupiter, in a council of the Gods, declares his resolution of punishing the Thebans, and Argives also by means of a marriage betwixt Polynices and one of the daughters of Adrastus King of Argos. Juno opposes, but to no effect; and Mercury is sent on a message

And Venus sets ere Mercury can rise.
Those play the scholars who can't play the men,
And use that weapon which they have, their pen;
When old, and past the relish of delight,
Then down they sit, and in their dotage write,
That not one woman keeps her marriage-vow.
(This by the way, but to my purpose now.)

It chanc'd my husband, on a winter's night,
Read in this book, aloud, with strange delight,
How the first female (as the Scriptures show)
Brought her own spouse and all his race to woe.
How Samson fell; and he whom Dejanire
Wrapp'd in th' envenom'd shirt, and set on fire.
How curs'd Eryphile her lord betray'd,
And the dire ambush Clytemnestra laid.

But what most pleas'd him was the Cretan dame,
And husband-bull-oh monstrous! fie for shame!
He had by heart, the whole detail of woe
Xanthippe made her good man undergo;
How oft she scolded in a day, he knew,
How many piss-pots on the sage she threw;
Who took it patiently, and wip'd his head;
"Rain follows thunder," that was all he said.
He read, how Arius to his friend complain'd,
A fatal Tree was growing in his land,
On which three wives successively had twin'd
A sliding noose, and waver'd in the wind.

370

375

380

385

390

395

For better fruit did never orchard bear.

"Where grows this plant" (reply'd the friend) "oh where?

Give me some slip of this most blissful tree,

And in my garden planted shall it be."

Then how two wives their lord's destruction prove

400

Frantic at night, and in the morning dead.

The nimble juice soon seiz'd his giddy head,

That for her husband mix'd a pois'nous draught,
And this for lust an am'rous philtre bought:

Thro' hatred one, and one thro' too much love;

405

And some have hammer'd nails into their brain,

How some with swords their sleeping lords have slain,

All this he read, and read with great devotion.

And some have drench'd them with a deadly potion;

Long time I heard, and swell'd and blush'd, and frown'd'

410

But when no end of these vile tales I found,
When still he read, and laugh'd, and read again,
And half the night was thus consum'd in vain;
Provok'd to vengeance, three large leaves I tore
And with one buffet fell'd him on the floor.
With that my husband in a fury rose,
And down he settled me with hearty blows.
I groan'd, and lay extended on my side;

"Oh! thou hast slain me for my wealth" (I cry'd)
"Yet I forgive thee-take my last embrace"

415

420

He wept, kind soul! and stoop'd to kiss my face;
I took him such a box as turn'd him blue,
Then sigh'd and cry'd, "Adieu, my dear, adieu!"
But after many a hearty struggle past,

I condescended to be pleas'd at last.
Soon as he said, "My mistress and my wife,
Do what you list, the term of all your life:"
I took to heart the merits of the cause,
And stood content to rule by wholesome laws;
Receiv'd the reins of absolute command,
With all the government of house and land,
And empire o'er his tongue, and o'er his hand.
As for the volume that revil'd the dames,
'Twas torn to fragments, and condemn'd to flames.
Now heav'n on all my husbands gone bestow
Pleasures above, for tortures felt below:
That rest they wish'd for, grant them in the grave,
And bless those souls my conduct help'd to save.

425

430

435

THE FIRST BOOK

OF

STATIUS HIS THEBAIS.

Translated in the Year 1703.

[The First Book of the Thebais of Statius was published in 1712, in Lintot's Miscellany. Pope had tried his hand at translating part of Statius before he was twelve years of age; and his efforts were revised by his early friend Henry Cromwell, so mysteriously described by Gay in Alexander Pope his safe return from Troy as 'honest hatless Cromwell, with red breeches.'-P. Papinius Statius, born at Naples about 50 A.D. was the most popular poet of the Flavian epoch, and besides his epics, the Thebais (in 12 books) and the Achilleis (in 2), wrote the Sylva (5 books of occasional pieces). Of his Thebais, said to have been founded on the Greek poem by Antimachus, a criticism will be found in Merivale's Romans under the Empire, chap. LXIV., where it is designated as perhaps the most perfect in form and arrangement of ancient epics, but confused in its general effect from want of breadth and largeness of treatment.]

ARGUMENT.

EDIPUS King of Thebes having by mistake slain his father Laius, and marry'd his mother Jocasta, put out his own eyes, and resign'd the realm to his sons Eteocles and Polynices. Being neglected by them, he makes his prayer to the fury Tisiphone, to sow debate betwixt the brothers. They agree at last to reign singly, each a year by turns, and the first lot is obtain'd by Eteocles. Jupiter, in a council of the Gods, declares his resolution of punishing the Thebans, and Argives also by means of a marriage betwixt Polynices and one of the daughters of Adrastus King of Argos. Juno opposes, but to no effect; and Mercury is sent on a message