But since the sacred leaves to all are free, And men interpret texts, why should not we? But grant the worst; shall women then be weigh'd What tho' this King (as ancient story boasts) 685 Whose reign indulgent God, says Holy Writ, 690 Well, I'm a Woman, and as such must speak; 696 By Heav'n, those authors are our sex's foes, wroth: I yield it up; but since I gave my oath, That this much-injur'd Knight again should see; 700 And so has mine (she said)-I am a Queen: 705 Her answer she shall have, I undertake; And thus an end of all dispute I make.· Try when you list; and you shall find, my lord, We leave them here in this heroic strain, 710 715 By easy steps, to where the Pear-tree grew: 725 Sore sigh'd the Knight to hear his Lady's cry, But could not climb, and had no servant nigh: ł Old as he was, and void of eye-sight too, What could, alas! a helpless husband do? And must I languish then, she said, and die, 730 Yet view the lovely fruit before my eye? At least, kind Sir, for charity's sweet sake, Now prove your patience, gentle ladies all! 740 Nor let on me your heavy anger fall: "Tis truth I tell, tho' not in phrase refin'd; Tho' blunt my tale, yet honest is my mind. What feats the lady in the tree might do, I pass, as gambols never known to you; But sure it was a merrier fit, she swore, Than in her life she ever felt before. 745 750 In that nice moment, lo! the wond'ring Knight Look'd out, and stood restor❜d to sudden sight. Straight on the tree his eager eyes he bent, As one whose thoughts were on his spouse intent; But when he saw his bosom-wife so dress'd, His rage was such as cannot be express'd : Not frantic mothers when their infants die, With louder clamours rend the vaulted sky: 755 He cry'd, he roar'd, he storm'd, he tore his hair; Death! hell! and furies! what dost thou do there? 760 What ails my Lord? the trembling dame reply'd; I thought your patience had been better try'd; Is this your love, ungrateful and unkind, This my reward for having cur'd the blind?.. Why was I taught to make my husband see, By struggling with a man upon a tree? Did I for this the pow'r of magic prove? Unhappy wife, whose crime was too much love! If this be struggling, by this holy light, 'Tis struggling with a vengeance (quoth the Knight); So Heav'n preserve the sight it has restor❜d, As with these eyes I plainly saw thee whor'd, Whor'd by my slave-perfidious wretch! may hell As surely seize thee, as I saw too well. $766 771 Guard me, good angels! cry'd the gentle May, Pray Heav'n, this magic work the proper way! Alas, my love! 'tis certain, could you see, You ne'er had us'd these killing words to me: 775 (Reply'd the dame) are these the thanks I find? pear'd 785 Signs of remorse, while thus his spouse he cheer'd: Come down, and vex your tender heart no more; 791 Ah my lov'd lord! 'twas much unkind (she cry'd) On bare suspicion thus to treat your bride. 796 800 So just recov'ring from the shades of night, Your swimming eyes are drunk with sudden light, Strange phantoms dance around, and skim before your sight. Then, Sir, be cautious, nor too rashly deem; Heav'n knows how seldom things are what they seem; 805 809 Consult your reason, and you soon shall find Thus ends our tale, whose moral next to make, 820 |