I envy not their bliss, if he or she Think fit to live in perfect chastity: Pure let them be, and free from taint or vice; I for a few slight spots am not so nice. Heaven calls us different ways; on these bestows 40 One proper gift, another grants to those; Not every man's obliged to sell his store, And give up all his substance to the poor: Such as are perfect may, I can't deny; But, by your leaves, divines! so am not I. Full many a saint, since first the world began, Lived an unspotted maid in spite of man: Let such (a God's name) with fine wheat be fed, And let us honest wives eat barley bread. For me, I'll keep the post assign'd by heaven, 50 And use the copious talent it has given: Let my good spouse pay tribute, do me right, And keep an equal reckoning every night; His proper body is not his, but mine; For so said Paul, and Paul's a sound divine. Know then, of those five husbands I have had, Three were just tolerable, two were bad. The three were old, but rich and fond beside, And toil'd most piteously to please their bride; But since their wealth (the best they had) was mine, 60 The rest, without much loss, I could resign: Sure to be loved, I took no pains to please, Yet had more pleasure far than they had ease. Presents flow'd in apace: with showers of gold They made their court, like Jupiter of old: If I but smiled, a sudden youth they found, And a new palsy seized them when I frown'd. Ye sovereign wives! give ear, and understand: Thus shall ye speak, and exercise command; For never was it given to mortal man 70 To lie so boldly as we women can: Forswear the fact, though seen with both his eyes, And call your maids to witness how he lies. Hark, old Sir Paul! ('twas thus I used to say) Whence is our neighbour's wife so rich and gay Treated, caress'd, where'er she's pleased to roam-- I sit in tatters, and immured at home. Why to her house dost thou so oft repair? Art thou so amorous? and is she so fair? If I but see a cousin or a friend, 80 Lord! how you swell and rage, like any fiend! But you reel home, a drunken beastly bear, Then preach till midnight in your easy chair; Cry, Wives are false, and every woman evil, And give up all that's female to the devil. If poor (you say), she drains her husband's purse; If rich, she keeps her priest, or something worse; If highly born, intolerably vain, Vapours and pride by turns possess her brain; Now gaily mad, now sourly splenetic, 90 Freakish when well, and fretful when she's sick: If fair, then chaste she cannot long abide, By pressing youth attack'd on every side; If foul, her wealth the lusty lover lures, Or else her wit some fool-gallant procures, Or else she dances with becoming grace, Or shape excuses the defects of face. There swims no goose so gray, but soon or late She finds some honest gander for her mate.