Sir, I'm no fool; nor shall you, by St. John, Have goods and body to yourself alone. One you shall quit, in spite of both your eyes; I heed not, I, the bolts, the locks, the spies. If you had wit, you'd say, "Go where you will, 130 Dear spouse, I credit not the tales they tell; Take all the freedoms of a married life; I know thee for a virtuous, faithful wife." Lord! when you have enough, what need you care How merrily soever others fare? 135 Though all the day I give and take delight, Doubt not, sufficient will be left at night. 'Tis but a just and rational desire, To light a taper at a neighbour's fire. There's danger too, you think, in rich array, 140 And none can long be modest that are gay: The cat, if you but singe her tabby skin, The chimney keeps, and sits content within; But once grown sleek, will from her corner run, Sport with her tail, and wanton in the sun; 145 She licks her fair round face, and frisks abroad, To show her fur, and to be catterwawed.[8] 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 complained, whene'er the guilt was mine.[9] I taxed them oft with wenching and amours, When their weak legs scarce dragged 'em out of doors; 155 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;[10] For all this wit is given us from our birth; Heav'n gave to woman the peculiar grace, 160 To spin, to weep, and cully human race. By this nice conduct, and this prudent course, By murm'ring, wheedling, stratagem, and force, I still prevailed, and would be in the right, Or curtain lectures made a restless night. 165 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,[11] 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. 175 Yet with embraces, curses oft I've mixed, Then kissed again, and chid, and railed 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