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Thus, to avoid the greater vice,
I knew a Prieft, of conscience nice,
To quell his luft for neighbour's spouse,
Keep fornication in his house.

But you 're impatient all this time,
Fret at my counsel, curfe my rhyme.
Be fatisfy'd: I'll talk no more,
For thus my tale begins-Of yore
There dwelt at Blois a Prieft full fair,
With rolling eye and crifped hair;
His chin hung low, his brow was fleek,
Plenty lay basking on his cheek;
Whole days at cloyfter-grates he fate,
Ogled, and talk'd of this and that
So feelingly, the Nuns lamented
That double-bars were e'er invented.
If he the wanton wife confeft,

With downcaft eye, and heaving breast;
He ftroak'd her cheek to still her fear,
And talk'd of fins en cavalier ;
Each time enjoin'd her penance mild,
And fondled on her like his child.
At every jovial goffip's feaft

Pere Bernard was a welcome gueft;
Mirth fuffer'd not the least restraint,
He could at will shake off the faint;
Nor frown'd he when they freely spoke,
But fhook his fides, and took the joke;
Nor fail'd he to promote the jeft,
And fhar'd the fins which they confeft.

Yet,

Yet, that he might not always roam,
He kept conveniencies at home.

His maid was in the bloom of beauty,
Well-limb'd for every focial duty;
He meddled with no houfhold cares,
To her confign'd his whole affairs:
She of his ftudy kept the keys,
For he was ftudious-of his ease:
She had the power of all his locks,
Could rummage every cheft and box;
Her honesty such credit gain'd,
Not ev'n the cellar was reftrain'd.

In troth it was a goodly show,

Lin'd with full hogheads all a-row.
One veffel, from the rank remov'd,
Far dearer than the reft he lov'd;
Pour la bonne bouche 'twas fet afide,
To all but choicest friends deny'd.
He now and then would fend a quart,
To warm fome wife's retentive heart,
Against confeffion's fullen hour:
Wine has all fecrets in its power.
At common feasts it had been waste,
Nor was it fit for layman's taste.
If monk or friar were his gueft,

They drank it; for they know the best.
Nay, he at length fo fond was grown,
He always drank it when-alone.

Who fhall recount his civil labours,
In pious vifits to his neighbours ?

Whene'er

Whene'r weak hufbands went aftray,

He guefs'd their wives were in the way: 'Twas then his charity was fhown,

He chose to see them when alone.

Now was he bent on cuckoldom :
He knew friend Dennis was from home:
His wife (a poor neglected beauty,
Defrauded of a hufband's duty)

Had often told him at confeffion,

How hard the struggled 'gainst tranfgreffion.
He now refolves, in heat of blood,
To try how firm her virtue ftood.

He knew that wine (to love beft aid)

Has oft' made bold the fhame-fac'd maid,
Taught her to romp, and take more freedoms,
Than nymphs train'd-up at Smith's or Needham's.
A mighty bottle ftrait he chose,

Such as might give two Friars their dose.
Nannette he call'd: the cellar-door
She ftraight unlocks, defcends before;
He follow'd clofe. But when he spies
His favourite cafk; with lifted eyes
And lifted hands aloud he cries,
Heigh-day! my darling wine aftoop!
It must alas! have fprung a hoop.
That there's a leak is past all doubt,
(Reply'd the maid)-I'll find it out.
She fets the candle down in hafte,
Tucks her white apron round her waist.

}

The

The hogfhead's mouldy fide afcends;
She ftraddles wide, and downward bends:
So low fhe ftoops to feek the flaw,
Her coats rose up, her mafter faw-
I fee-he cries-(then clafpt her faft)
The leak through which my wine has paft.
Then' all in haste the maid descended,
And in a trice the leak was mended.
He found in Nannette all he wanted,
So Dennis' brows remain'd unplanted.

Ere fince this time, all lufty Friars
(Warm'd with predominant defires,
Whene'er the flesh with fpirit quarrels)
Look on the fex as leaky barrels.
Beware of thefe, ye jealous fpouses!
From fuch-like coopers guard your houses;
For, if they find not work at home,
For jobbs through all the town they roam.

THE

THE

ΑΝ

EQUIVOCATION.

A TALE.

N Abbot rich (whofe tafte was good
Alike in fcience and in food)

His Bishop had resolv'd to treat;

wed!

The Bishop came, the Bishop eat.
"Twas filence, till their ftomachs fail'd;
And now at Hereticks they rail'd.
What Herefy (the Prelate faid)
Is in that Church where Priests may
Do not we take the Church for life?
But thofe divorce her for a wife;
Like laymen, keep her in their houses,
And own the children of their spouses.
Vile practices! the Abbot cry'd,
For pious ufe we 're set aside!
Shall we take wives? Marriage at beft
Is but carnality profest!

Now, as the Bishop took his glafs,
He spy'd our Abbot's buxom lass,

Who cross'd the room; he mark'd her eye
That glow'd with love; his pulfe beat high.
Fye, father, fye, (the Prelate cries)

A maid fo young! for fhame, be wife.
Thefe indifcretions lend a handle

To lewd lay-tongues, to give us fcandal.

For

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