His word her surety, and his worth her pride. When ship was launch’d, and merchant Paul had share, A bounteous feast became the lady’s care; Who then her entry to the dinner made, In costly raiment, and with kind parade. Call’d by this duty on a certain day, And robed to grace it in a rich array, Forth from her room with measured step she came, Proud of th’ event, and stately look’d the dame. The husband met her at his study-door-- 130 “This way, my love--one moment and no more: A trifling business--you will understand, The law requires that you affix your hand; But first attend, and you shall learn the cause Why forms like these have been prescribed by laws:” Then from his chair a man in black arose, And with much quickness hurried off his prose: That “Ellen Paul the wife, and so forth, freed From all control, her own the act and deed, And forasmuch”----said she, “I’ve no distrust, 140 For he that asks it is discreet and just; Our friends are waiting--where am I to sign?-- There!--Now be ready when we meet to dine.” This said, she hurried off in great delight: The ship was launch’d, and joyful was the night. Now, says the reader, and in much disdain, This serious merchant was a rogue in grain; A treacherous wretch, an artful, sober knave, And ten times worse for manners cool and grave; And she devoid of sense, to set her hand 150 To scoundrel deeds she could not understand. Alas! ’tis true; and I in vain had tried To soften crime, that cannot be denied; And might have labour’d many a tedious verse The latent cause of mischief to rehearse: Be it confess’d, that long with troubled look This trader view’d a huge accompting-book (His former marriage for a time delay’d The dreaded hour, the present lent its aid); But he too clearly saw the evil day, 160 And put the terror, by deceit, away; Thus by connecting with his sorrows crime, He gain’d a portion of uneasy time.-- All this too late the injured lady saw, What law had given, again she gave to law; His guilt, her folly--these at once impress’d Their lasting feelings on her guileless breast. “Shame I can bear,” she cried, “and want sustain, But will not see this guilty wretch again:” For all was lost, and he, with many a tear, 170 Confess’d the fault--she turning scorn’d to hear. To legal claims he yielded all his worth; But small the portion, and the wrong’d were wroth, Nor to their debtor would a part allow; And where to live he knew not--knew not how. The wife a cottage found, and thither went The suppliant man, but she would not relent; Thenceforth she utter’d with indignant tone, “I feel the misery, and will feel alone.”