PAULO PURGANTI AND HIS WIFE
AN HONEST BUT A SIMPLE PAIR
by: Matthew Prior (1664-1721)
- DOCTOR of great Skill and Fame,
- PAULO PURGANTI was his Name,
- Had a good, comely, virtuous Wife:
- No Woman led a better Life:
- She to Intrigues was ev'n hard-hearted:
- She chuckl'd when a Bawd was carted:
- And thought the Nation ne'er wou'd thrive,
- 'Till all the Whores were burnt alive.
-
- On marry'd Men, that dare be bad,
- She thought no Mercy should be had;
- They should be hang'd, or starv'd, or flead,
- Or serv'd like Romish Priests in Swede,--
- In shord, all Lewdness She defy'd:
- And stiff was her Parochial Pride.
-
- Yet in an honest Way, the Dame
- Was a great Lover of That same;
- And could from Scripture take her Cue,
- That Husbands should give Wives their Due.
-
- Her Prudence did so justly steer
- Between the Gay and the Severe,
- That if in some Regards she chose
- To curb poor PAULO in too close;
- In others she relax's again,
- And govern'd with a looser Rein.
-
- Thus tho' She strictly did confine
- The Doctor from Excess of Wine;
- With Oysters, Eggs, and Vermicelli
- She let Him almost burst his Belly:
- Thus drying Coffee was deny'd;
- But Chocolate that Loss supply'd:
- And for Tobacco (who could bear it?)
- Filthy Concomitant of Claret!
- (Blest Revolution!) one might see
- Eringo Roots, and Bohé Tea.
-
- She often set the Doctor's Band,
- And strok'd his Beard, and squeez'd his Hand:
- Kindly complain'd, that after Noon
- He went to pore on Books too soon:
- She held it wholesomer by much,
- To rest a little on the Couch:--
- About his Waste in Bed a-nights
- She clung so close -- for fear of Sprites.
-
- The Doctor understood the Call;
- But had not always wherewithal.
-
- The Lion's Skin too short, you know,
- (As Plutarch's Morals finely show)
- Was lengthen'd by the Fox's Tail:
- And Art supplies, where Strength may fail.
-
- Unwilling then in Arms to meet
- The Enemy, He could not beat;
- He strove to lengthen the Campaign,
- And save his Forces by Chicane.
- Fabius, the Roman Chief, who thus
- By fair Retreat grew Maximus,
- Shows us, that all the Warrior can do
- With Force inferior, is Cunctando.
-
- One Day then, as the Foe drew near,
- With Love, and Joy, and Life, and Dear;
- Our Don, who knew this Tittle Tattle
- Did, sure as Trumpet, call to Battle;
- Thought it extremely á propos,
- To ward against the coming Blow:
- To ward: but how? Ay, there's the Question:
- Fierce the Assault, unarm'd the Bastion.
-
- The Doctor feign'd a strange Surprise:
- He felt her Pulse: he view'd her Eyes:
- That beat too fast: These rowl'd too quick:
- She was, He said, or would be Sick:
- He judg'd it absolutely good,
- That She should purge and cleanse her Blood.
- SPAW Waters for that end were got:
- If they past easily or not,
- What matters it? the Lady's Fever
- Continu'd violent as ever.
-
- For a Distemper of this Kind,
- (BLACKMORE and HANS are of my Mind)
- If once it youthful Blood infects,
- And chiefly of the Female Sex;
- Is scarce remov'd by Pill or Potion;
- What-e'er might be our Doctor's Notion.
-
- One luckless Night then, as in Bed
- The Doctor and the Dame were laid;
- Again this cruel Fever came,
- High pulse, short Breath, and Blood in Flame.
- What Measures shall poor PAULO keep
- With Madam, in this piteous taking?
- She, like MACBETH, has murder'd Sleep,
- And won't allow Him Rest, tho' waking.
- Sad State of Matters! when We dare
- Nor ask for Peace, nor offer War:
- Nor LIVY nor COMINES have shown,
- What in this Juncture may be done.
- GROTIUS might own, that PAULO'S Case is
- Harder, than any which He places
- Amongst his BELLI and his PACIS.
-
- He strove, alas! but strove in vain,
- By dint of Logic to maintain,
- That all the Sex was born to grieve,
- Down to her Ladyship from EVE.
- He rang'd his Tropes, and preach'd up Patience;
- Back'd his Opinion with Quotations,
- Divines and Moralists; and run ye on
- Quite thro' from SENECA to BUNYAN.
- As much in vain He bid Her try
- To fold her Arms, to close her Eye;
- Telling Her, Rest would do Her Good;
- If any thing in Nature cou'd:
- So held the GREEKS quite down from GALEN,
- Masters and Princes of the Calling:
- So all our Modern Friends maintain
- (Tho' no great GREEKS) in WARWICK-LANE.
-
- Reduce, my Muse, the wand'ring Song:
- A Tale should never be too long.
-
- The more He talk'd, the more She burn'd,
- And sigh'd, and tost, and groan'd, and turn'd:
- At last, I wish, said She, my Dear--
- (And whisper'd something in his Ear.)
- You wish! wish on, the Doctor cries:
- Lord! when will Womankind be wise?
- What, in your Waters? are You mad?
- Why Poison is not half so bad.
- I'll do it--But I give you Warning:
- You'll die before To-morrow Morning.--
- 'Tis kind, my Dear, what You advise;
- The Lady with a Sigh replies:
- But Life, You know, at best is Pain:
- And Death is what We should disdain.
- So do it therefore, and Adieu:
- For I will die for Love of You:--
- Let wanton Wives by Death be scar'd:
- But, to my Comfort, I'm prepared.
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