Song LXXXV. Chastity

I Wonder, quoth Dame, as her Spouse she embraces, How Strumpets can look, how they dare shew their faces, And those wicked Wives who from Husband's arms fly, Lord! where do they think they must go when they die?

But next day, by Husband, with 'Prentice Boy caught, When she from the bed was to Toilet-glass brought, Her Head he held up, with this gentle Rebuke— My Dear! you was wishing to know how Whores look!

Turn your eyes to that table, at once you will see What Faces Jades wear; then, my Dear, behold me. Your Features confess the Adulteress clear, My Visage exhibits how Cuckolds appear.

You ask'd where bad Wives go? why, really, my Chick, You must, with the rest of them, go to Old Nick! If Beelzebub don't such damn'd Tenants disown, For bad Wives, he knows, make a Hell of their own.

All the World wou'd be wed, if the Clergy cou'd shew Any rule in the service to change I for O: How happy the Union of Marriage wou'd prove, Not long as we Live join'd, but long as we Love.

At his feet she sunk down, Sorrow lent her such Moans That Resentment was gagg'd by her Tears and her Tones. What cou'd Hubby do then? what cou'd then Hubby do? But Sympathy struck, as she cry'd, he cry'd too.

Oh Corregio! cou'd I Sigifmunda design, Or exhibit a Magdalen Guido like thine, I wou'd paint the fond Look which the Penitent stole, That pierced her soft Partner, and sunk to his Soul.

Transported to doating! he rais'd the Distress'd, And tenderly held her long time to his Breast; On the Bed gently laid her, by her gently laid, And the Breach there was clos'd the same way it was made.