Volume I Part 33 (2/2)

(For Strephon could remember well, That once he heard a school-boy tell, How Semele,[7] of mortal race, By thunder died in Jove's embrace.) And what if daring Strephon dies By lightning shot from Chloe's eyes!

While these reflections fill'd his head, The bride was put in form to bed: He follow'd, stript, and in he crept, But awfully his distance kept.

Now, ”ponder well, ye parents dear;”

Forbid your daughters guzzling beer; And make them ev'ry afternoon Forbear their tea, or drink it soon; That, ere to bed they venture up, They may discharge it ev'ry sup; If not, they must in evil plight Be often forc'd to rise at night.

Keep them to wholesome food confin'd, Nor let them taste what causes wind: 'Tis this the sage of Samos means, Forbidding his disciples beans.[8]

O! think what evils must ensue; Miss Moll, the jade, will burn it blue; And, when she once has got the art, She cannot help it for her heart; But out it flies, even when she meets Her bridegroom in the wedding-sheets.

_Carminative_ and _diuretic_[9]

Will damp all pa.s.sion sympathetic; And Love such nicety requires, One blast will put out all his fires.

Since husbands get behind the scene, The wife should study to be clean; Nor give the smallest room to guess The time when wants of nature press; But after marriage practise more Decorum than she did before; To keep her spouse deluded still, And make him fancy what she will.

In bed we left the married pair; 'Tis time to show how things went there.

Strephon, who had been often told That fortune still a.s.sists the bold, Resolved to make the first attack; But Chloe drove him fiercely back.

How could a nymph so chaste as Chloe, With const.i.tution cold and snowy, Permit a brutish man to touch her?

Ev'n lambs by instinct fly the butcher.

Resistance on the wedding-night Is what our maidens claim by right; And Chloe, 'tis by all agreed, Was maid in thought, in word, and deed.

Yet some a.s.sign a different reason; That Strephon chose no proper season.

Say, fair ones, must I make a pause, Or freely tell the secret cause?

Twelve cups of tea (with grief I speak) Had now constrain'd the nymph to leak.

This point must needs be settled first: The bride must either void or burst.

Then see the dire effects of pease; Think what can give the colic ease.

The nymph oppress'd before, behind, As s.h.i.+ps are toss'd by waves and wind, Steals out her hand, by nature led, And brings a vessel into bed; Fair utensil, as smooth and white As Chloe's skin, almost as bright.

Strephon, who heard the fuming rill As from a mossy cliff distil, Cried out, Ye G.o.ds! what sound is this?

Can Chloe, heavenly Chloe,----?

But when he smelt a noisome steam Which oft attends that lukewarm stream; (Salerno both together joins,[10]

As sov'reign med'cines for the loins:) And though contriv'd, we may suppose, To slip his ears, yet struck his nose; He found her while the scent increast, As mortal as himself at least.

But soon, with like occasions prest He boldly sent his hand in quest (Inspired with courage from his bride) To reach the pot on t'other side; And, as he fill'd the reeking vase; Let fly a rouser in her face.

The little Cupids hov'ring round, (As pictures prove) with garlands crown'd, Abash'd at what they saw and heard, Flew off, nor ever more appear'd.

Adieu to ravis.h.i.+ng delights, High raptures, and romantic flights; To G.o.ddesses so heav'nly sweet, Expiring shepherds at their feet; To silver meads and shady bowers, Dress'd up with amaranthine flowers.

How great a change! how quickly made!

They learn to call a spade a spade.

They soon from all constraint are freed; Can see each other do their need.

On box of cedar sits the wife, And makes it warm for dearest life; And, by the beastly way of thinking, Find great society in stinking.

Now Strephon daily entertains His Chloe in the homeliest strains; And Chloe, more experienc'd grown, With int'rest pays him back his own.

No maid at court is less asham'd, Howe'er for selling bargains fam'd, Than she to name her parts behind, Or when a-bed to let out wind.

Fair Decency, celestial maid!

Descend from Heaven to Beauty's aid!

Though Beauty may beget desire, 'Tis thou must fan the Lover's fire; For Beauty, like supreme dominion, Is best supported by Opinion: If Decency bring no supplies, Opinion falls, and Beauty dies.

To see some radiant nymph appear In all her glitt'ring birth-day gear, You think some G.o.ddess from the sky Descended, ready cut and dry: But ere you sell yourself to laughter, Consider well what may come after; For fine ideas vanish fast, While all the gross and filthy last.

O Strephon, ere that fatal day When Chloe stole your heart away, Had you but through a cranny spy'd On house of ease your future bride, In all the postures of her face, Which nature gives in such a case; Distortions, groanings, strainings, heavings, 'Twere better you had lick'd her leavings, Than from experience find too late Your G.o.ddess grown a filthy mate.

Your fancy then had always dwelt On what you saw and what you smelt; Would still the same ideas give ye, As when you spy'd her on the privy; And, spite of Chloe's charms divine, Your heart had been as whole as mine.

Authorities, both old and recent, Direct that women must be decent; And from the spouse each blemish hide, More than from all the world beside.

Unjustly all our nymphs complain Their empire holds so short a reign; Is, after marriage, lost so soon, It hardly lasts the honey-moon: For, if they keep not what they caught, It is entirely their own fault.

They take possession of the crown, And then throw all their weapons down: Though, by the politician's scheme, Whoe'er arrives at power supreme, Those arts, by which at first they gain it, They still must practise to maintain it.

What various ways our females take To pa.s.s for wits before a rake!

And in the fruitless search pursue All other methods but the true!

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