N days of old, when Arthur fill'd the throne, Whofe acts and fame to foreign lands were blown; The king of elfs and little fairy queen
Gamboll'd on heaths, and danc'd on ev'ry green;
And where the jolly troop had led the round,
The grafs unbidden rofe, and mark'd the ground:
Nor darkling did they glance, the filver light
Of Phoebe ferv'd to guide their steps aright,
And with their tripping pleas'd, prolong the night.
Her beams they follow'd, where at full the plaid,
Nor longer than fhe fhed her horns they ftaid,
From thence with airy flight to foreign lands convey'd.
Above the reft our Britain held they dear,
More folemnly they kept their fabbaths here, [year.
And made more fpacious rings, and revell'd half the
I fpeak of ancient times, for now the swain
Returning late may pass the woods in vain,
And never hope to fee the nightly train:
In vain the dairy now with mints is dress'd,
The dairy-maid expects no fairy guest,
To fkim the bowls, and after pay the feast.
She fighs and shakes her empty fhoes in vain,
No filver penny to reward her pain:
For priests with pray'rs, and other godly geer,
Have made the merry goblins disappear;
And where they play'd their merry pranks before,
Have fprinkled holy water on the floor:
And friars that through the wealthy regions run,
Thick as the motes that twinkle in the fun,
Refort to farmers rich, and bless their halls,
And exorcife the beds, and cross the walls :
This makes the fairy quires forfake the place,
When once 'tis hallow'd with the rites of grace :
But in the walks where wicked elves have been,
The learning of the parish now is feen,
The midnight parfon pofting o'er the green,
With gown tuck'd up, to wakes, for Sunday next,
With humming ale encouraging his text;
Nor wants the holy leer to country-girl betwixt.
From fiends and imps he fets the village free,
There haunts not any incubus but he.
The maids and women need no danger fear
To walk by night, and fanctity fo near:
For by fome haycock, or fome shady thorn,
He bids his beads both even fong and morn.
It fo befel in this king Arthur's reign,
A lufty knight was pricking o'er the plain;
A bachelor he was, and of the courtly train.
It happen'd as he rode, a damfel gay
In ruffet robes to market took her way:
Soon on the girl he caft an amorous eye,
So ftraight fhe walk'd, and on her pasterns high:
If feeing her behind he lik'd her pace.
Now turning fhort, he better likes her face.
He lights in hafte, and full of youthful fire,
By force accomplish'd his obfcene defire:
This done away he rode, not unespy'd,
For fwarming at his back the country cry'd :
And once in view they never loft the fight,
But feiz'd, and pinion'd brought to court the knight,
Then courts of kings were held in high renown,
Ere made the common brothels of the town:
There, virgins honourable vows receiv'd,
But chafte as maids in monafteries liv'd:
The king himself, to nuptial ties a flave,
No bad example to his poets gave:
And they, not bad, but in a vicious age,
Had not, to please the prince, debauch'd the ftage,
Now what should Arthur do? He lov'd the knight,
But fovereign monarchs are the fource of right:
Mov'd by the damfel's tears and common cry,
He doom'd the brutal ravisher to die.
But fair Geneura rofe in his defence,
And pray'd fo hard for mercy from the prince,
That to his queen the king, th' offender gave,
And left it in her pow'r to kill or fave:
This gracious act the ladies all approve,
Who thought it much a man fhould die for love;
And with their mistress join'd in close debate,
(Cov'ring their kindness with diffembled hate ;)
If not to free him, to prolong his fate,
At laft agreed they call him by confent
Before the queen and female parliament.
And the fair fpeaker rifing from the chair,
Did thus the judgment of the house declare.
Sir knight, though I have afk'd thy life, yet ftill
Thy destiny depends upon my will:
Nor haft thou other furety than the grace
Not due to thee from our offended race.
But as our kind is of a fofter mold,
And cannot blood without a figh behold,
I grant thee life; referving ftill the pow'r
To take the forfeit when I fee my hour:
Unless thy answer to my next demand
Shall fet thee free from our avenging hand.
The queftion, whofe folution I require,
Is, What the fex of women moft defire?
In this difpute thy judges are at ftrife;
Beware; for on thy wit depends thy life.
Yet (left, furprifed, unknowing what to say,
Thou damn thyfelf) we give thee farther day :
Α year
is thine to wander at thy will;
And learn from others, if thou want'ft the skill.
But, not to hold our proffer turn'd to fcorn,
Good fureties will we have for thy return;
That at the time prefix'd thou shalt obey,
And at thy pledge's peril keep thy day.
Woe was the knight at this severe command;
But well he knew 'twas bootlefs to withstand:
The terms accepted as the fair ordain,
in bail for his return again,
And promis'd answer at the day affign'd,
The beft, with heav'n's affistance he could find.
His leave thus taken, on his
he went With heavy heart, and full of difcontent, Mifdoubting much, and fearful of th' event. 'Twas hard the truth of fuch a point to find, As was not yet agreed among the kind.
Thus on he went; still anxious more and more,
Afk'd all he met, and knock'd at ev'ry door;
Enquir'd of men; but made his chief request
To learn from women what they lov'd the beft.
They answer'd each according to her mind
To pleafe herfelf, not all the female kind.
One was for wealth, another was for place:
Crones, old and ugly, wifh'd a better face.
The widow's wifh was oftentimes to wed;
The wanton maids were all for sport a-bed.
Some faid the fex were pleas'd with handsome lies,
And fome grofs flattery lov'd without difguife:
Truth is, fays one, he feldom fails to win
Who flatters well; for that's our darling fin.
But long attendance, and a duteous mind,
Will work ev'n with the wifeft of the kind.
One thought the fex's prime felicity
Was from the bonds of wedlock to be free:
Their pleasures, hours, and actions all their own,
And uncontroll'd to give account to none.
Some with a husband-focl; but fuch are curft,
For fools perverse of husbands are the worst:
All women would be counted chaste and wife,
Nor fhould our spouses fee, but with our eyes;
For fools will prate; and tho' they want the wit
To find close faults, yet open blots will hit :
Tho' better for their ease to hold their tongue,
For woman-kind was never in the wrong.
So noife enfues, and quarrels laft for life;
The wife abhors the fool, the fool the wife.
And fome men fay that great delight have we,
To be for truth extoll'd, and fecrefy:
And conftant in one purpose ftill to dwell;
And not our husbands counfels to reveal.
But that's a fable: for our fex is frail,
Inventing rather than not tell a tale.
Like leaky fieves no fecrets we can hold :
Witnefs the famous tale that Ovid told.
Midas the king, as in his book appears,
By Phoebus was endow'd with ass's ears,
Which under his long locks he well conceal'd,
(As monarch's vices must not be reveal'd)
For fear the people have 'em in the wind,
Who long ago were neither dumb nor blind :
Nor apt to think from heav'n their title springs,
Since Jove and Mars left off begetting kings.
This Midas knew: and durft communicate
To none but to his wife his ears of ftate:
One must be trufted, and he thought her fit,
As paffing prudent, and a parlous wit.
To this fagacious confeffor he went,
And told her what a gift the gods had fent:
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