IF this, replied the pirate, you believe, Attend her toilet:--naught can then deceive. Away they went, and closely shut the door; When Richard said, thou darling of my store, How can'st thou thus behave? my pretty dove, 'Tis thy Quinzica, come to seek his love, In all the same, except about his wife; Dost in this face a change observe my life? 'Tis grieving for thy loss that makes me ill; Did ever I in aught deny thy will? In dress or play could any thee exceed? And had'st thou not whatever thou might'st need? To please thee, oft I made myself a slave; Such thou art now; but thee again I crave. Then what dost think about thy honour, dear?-- Said she, with ire, I neither know nor fear; Is this a time to guard it, do you say? What pain was shown by any one, I pray; When I was forc'd to wed a man like you, Old, impotent, and hateful to the view, While I was young and blooming as the morn, Deserving truly, something less forlorn, And seemingly intended to possess What Hymen best in store has got to bless; For I was thought by all the world around, Most worthy ev'ry bliss in wedlock found. YET things took quite another turn with me In tune my husband never proved to be, Except a feast or two throughout the year; From Pagamin I met a diff'rent cheer; Another lesson presently he taught; The life's sweet pleasures more the pirate brought, In two short days, than e'er I had from you In those four years that only you I knew. PRAY leave me husband:--let me have my will Insist not on my living with you still; No calendars with Pagamin are seen-- Far better treated with the man I've been. My other friends and you much worse deserved: The spouse, for taking me when quite unnerved, And they, for giving preference base to gold, To those pure joys--far better thought than told. But Pagamin in ev'ry way can please; And though no code he owns, yet all is ease; Himself will tell you what has passed this morn, His actions would a sov'reign prince adorn. Such information may excite surprise, But now the truth, 'twere useless to disguise, Nothing will gain belief, we've no one near To witness our discourse:--adieu, my dear, To all your festivals--I'm flesh and blood:-- Gems, dresses, ornaments, do little good; You know full well, betwixt the head and heel, Though little's said, yet much we often feel. On this she stopt, and Richard dropt his chin, Rejoiced to 'scape from such unwelcome din.