Lo! thus, my friends, I wrought to my desires These three right ancient venerable sires. I told 'em, Thus you say, and thus you do; 150 And told 'em false, but Jenkin swore 'twas true. I, like a dog, could bite as well as whine, And first complain'd whene'er the guilt was mine. I tax'd them oft with wenching and amours, When their weak legs scarce dragg'd them out of doors And swore, the rambles that I took by night Were all to spy what damsels they bedight: That colour brought me many hours of mirth; For all this wit is given us from our birth. Heaven gave to woman the peculiar grace 160 To spin, to weep, and cully human race. By this nice conduct and this prudent course, By murmuring, wheedling, stratagem, and force, I still prevail'd, and would be in the right, Or curtain lectures made a restless night. If once my husband's arm was o'er my side, 'What! so familiar with your spouse?' I cried: I levied first a tax upon his need; Then let him--'twas a nicety indeed! Let all mankind this certain maxim hold; 170 Marry who will, our sex is to be sold. With empty hands no tassels you can lure, But fulsome love for gain we can endure; For gold we love the impotent and old, And heave, and pant, and kiss, and cling, for gold. Yet with embraces curses oft I mix'd, Then kiss'd again, and chid, and rail'd betwixt. Well, I may make my will in peace, and die, For not one word in man's arrears am I. To drop a dear dispute I was unable, 180 E'en though the Pope himself had sat at table: But when my point was gain'd, then thus I spoke: 'Billy, my dear, how sheepishly you look! Approach, my spouse, and let me kiss thy cheek; Thou shouldst be always thus, resign'd and meek! Of Job's great patience since so oft you preach, Well should you practise who so well can teach. 'Tis difficult to do, I must allow, But I, my dearest! will instruct you how. Great is the blessing of a prudent wife, 190 Who puts a period to domestic strife. One of us two must rule, and one obey; And since in man right reason bears the sway, Let that frail thing, weak woman, have her way. The wives of all my family have ruled Their tender husbands, and their passions cool'd. Fye! 'tis unmanly thus to sigh and groan: What! would you have me to yourself alone? Why, take me, love! take all and every part! Here's your revenge! you love it at your heart. 200 Would I vouchsafe to sell what nature gave, You little think what custom I could have. But see! I'm all your own--nay, hold--for shame! What means my dear?--indeed, you are to blame.'