“Nor have my laws thus broken and defied; 340 This is a fraud, a bargain for a wife; Expect my vengeance, or amend your life.” The wife was pretty, trifling, childish, weak; She could not think, but would not cease to speak. This he forbad--she took the caution ill, And boldly rose against his sovereign will; With idiot-cunning she would watch the hour, When friends were present, to dispute his power: With tyrant-craft, he then was still and calm, But raised in private terror and alarm: 350 By many trials, she perceived how far To vex and tease, without an open war; And he discover’d that so weak a mind No art could lead, and no compulsion bind; The rudest force would fail such mind to tame, And she was callous to rebuke and shame; Proud of her wealth, the power of law she knew, And would assist him in the spending too. His threat’ning words with insult she defied, To all his reasoning with a stare replied; 360 And when he begg’d her to attend, would say, “Attend I will--but let me have my way.” Nor rest had Conscience: “While you merit pain From me,” she cried, “you seek redress in vain.” His thoughts were grievous: “All that I possess From this vile bargain adds to my distress; To pass a life with one who will not mend, } Who cannot love, nor save, nor wisely spend, } Is a vile prospect, and I see no end; } For if we part, I must of course restore 370 Much of her money, and must wed no more. “Is there no way?”--here Conscience rose in power, “Oh! fly the danger of this fatal hour; I am thy Conscience, faithful, fond, and true, Ah, fly this thought, or evil must ensue; Fall on thy knees, and pray with all thy soul, Thy purpose banish, thy design control; Let every hope of such advantage cease, Or never more expect a moment’s peace.” Th’ affrighten’d man a due attention paid, 380 Felt the rebuke, and the command obey’d. Again the wife rebell’d, again express’d A love for pleasure--a contempt of rest; “She, whom she pleased, would visit, would receive Those who pleased her, nor deign to ask for leave.” “One way there is,” said he; “I might contrive Into a trap this foolish thing to drive: Who pleased her, said she?--I’ll be certain who--” “Take heed,” said Conscience, “what thou mean’st to do: Ensnare thy wife?”--“Why yes,” he must confess, 390 “It might be wrong--but there was no redress; Beside, to think,” said he, “is not to sin.” “Mistaken man!” replied the power within. No guest unnoticed to the lady came, He judged th’ event with mingled joy and shame; Oft he withdrew, and seem’d to leave her free. But still as watchful as a lynx was he; Meanwhile the wife was thoughtless, cool, and gay,