JANUARY AND MAY: OR, THE

MERCHANT'S TALE

Pope says that this 'translation' was done at sixteen or seventeen years of age. It was first published, with the Pastorals, in 1709, in Tonson's sixth Miscellany. Eventually Pope grouped the Chaucer imitations with Eloisa to Abelard, the translations from Ovid and Statius and the brief Imitations of English Poets. To this collection be prefixed this Advertisement:

"The following Translations were selected from many others done by the Author in his youth; for the most part indeed but a sort of Exercises, while he was improving himself in the Languages, and carried by his early bent to Poetry to perform them rather in Verse than Prose. Mr. Dryden's Fables came out about that time, which occasioned the Translations from Chaucer. They were first separately printed in Miscellanies by J. Tonson and B. Lintot, and afterwards collected in the Quarto Edition of 1717. The Imitations of English Authors, which are added at the end, were done as early, some of them at fourteen or fifteen years old; but having also got into Miscellanies, we have put them here together to complete this Juvenile Volume.'

Warburton asserts that Pope did not intend to include this group of poems in the final edition of his works.

THERE liv'd in Lombardy, as authors write,

In days of old, a wise and worthy Knight;
Of gentle manners, as of gen'rous race,
Blest with much sense, more riches, and
some grace:

Yet, led astray by Venus' soft delights,
He scarce could rule some idle appetites:
For long ago, let priests say what they
could,

Weak sinful laymen were but flesh and blood.

But in due time, when sixty years were o'er,

9

He vow'd to lead this vicious life no more; Whether pure holiness inspired his mind, Or dotage turn'd his brain, is hard to find; But his high courage prick'd him forth to

wed,

And try the pleasures of a lawful bed.

60

Alone, and ev'n in Paradise unbless'd, With mournful looks the blissful scene survey'd,

And wander'd in the solitary shade.
The Maker saw, took pity, and bestow'd
Woman, the last, the best reserv'd of
God.

A Wife! ah gentle Deities! can he
That has a wife e'er feel adversity?

Would men but follow what the sex advise,

All things would prosper, all the world grow wise.

'T was by Rebecca's aid that Jacob won
His father's blessing from an elder son: 70
Abusive Nabal ow'd his forfeit life
To the wise conduct of a prudent wife:
Heroic Judith, as old Hebrews show,
Preserv'd the Jews, and slew th' Assyrian
foe:

At Hester's suit the persecuting sword
Was sheath'd, and Israel liv'd to bless the
Lord.

These weighty motives January the sage
Maturely ponder'd in his riper age;
And charm'd with virtuous joys, and sober

life,

'Beneath the weight of threescore years I bend,

And, worn with cares, am hastening to my end.

How I have liv'd, alas! you know too well

In worldly follies which I blush to tell; 90 But gracious Heav'n has oped my eyes at last,

With due regret I view my vices past,
And, as the precept of the church decrees,
Will take a wife, and live in holy ease.
But since by counsel all things should be
done,

And many heads are wiser still than one;
Choose you for me, who best shall be con-

tent

'Tis what concerns my soul's eternal bliss; Since if I found no pleasure in my spouse, As flesh is frail, and who (God help me) knows?

Then should I live in lewd adultery, And sink downright to Satan when I die: Or were I curs'd with an unfruitful bed, XThe righteous end were lost for which I

wed;

120

To raise up seed to bless the Powers above, And not for pleasure only, or for love. Think not I dote ; 't is time to take a wife, When vig'rous blood forbids a chaster life:

37

My word was this, "Your Honour's in the right."

Th' assuming Wit, who deems himself so wise

As his mistaken patron to advise,

Let him not dare to vent his dangerous thought;

A noble fool was never in a fault.
This, Sir, affects not you, whose ev'ry word
Is weigh'd with judgment, and befits a
Lord :

Your will is mine; and is (I will maintain)
Pleasing to God, and should be so to Man;
At least your courage all the world must
praise,

170

Who dare to wed in your declining days. Indulge the vigour of your mounting blood,

And let gray fools be indolently good,
Who, past all pleasure, damn the joys cf

'What does my friend, my dear Placebo, say?'

'I say,' quoth he, 'by Heav'n the man's to blame,

To slander wives, and wedlock's holy name.'

At this the council rose without delay; Each, in his own opinion, went his way; With full consent, that, all disputes appeas'd,

The Knight should marry when and where he pleas'd.

Who now but January exults with joy? The charms of wedlock all his soul employ : Each nymph by turns his wavering mind possess'd,

230

And reign'd the short-lived tyrant of his breast;