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Consnlt with those, and be of better cheer; .
So said, they rose, nor more the work delay'd:
Nor was it hard to move the lady's mind; When fortune favours, still the fair are kind.
I pass each previous settlement and deed, Too long for me to write, or you to read ; Nor will with quaint impertinence display The pomp, the pageantry, the proud array. The time approach'd; to church the parties went, At once with carnal and devout intent : Forth came the priest, and bade the' obedient wife, Like Sarah or Rebecca lead her life ; Then pray'd the pow'rs the fruitful bed to bless, And made all sure enough with holiness." · And now the palace gates are open'd wide, ) The guests appear in order, side by side,', And,plac'd in state,the bridegroom and the bride.) The breathing flute's soft notes are heard around, And the slırill trumpets mix their silver sound; The vaulted roofs with echoing music ring, These touch the vocal stops, and those the trembling Not thus Amphion tun'd the warbling lyre, [string. Nor Joab the sounding clarion could inspire, Nor fierce Theodamas, whose sprightly strain Could swell the sout to rage and fire the martial train.
Bacchus himself, the nuptial feast to grace, (So poets sing) was present on the place : And lovely Venus, goddess of delight, Shook high her flaming torch in open sight, And danc'd around, and smild on every knight :-)
Pleas'd her best servant would his courage try,
The beanteous dame sat smiling at the board,
Damian alone, of all the mienial train, Sad in the midst of triumphs, sigh'd for pain; Damian alone, the knight's obsequions 'squire, Consum'd at heart, and fed a secret fire. His lovely mistress all his soul possessid, He look’d, he languishod, and could take no rest : His task perform’d, he sadly went his way, Fell on his bed, and loatlrd the light of day :
There let him lie; till bis relenting dame
The weary sun, as learned poets write,
The foe once gone, our knight prepard to’undress, So keen he was, and eager to possess; But first thought fit the assistance to receive, Which grave physicians scruple not to give; Satyrion near, with hot eringoes stood, Cantharides, to fire the lazy blood, Whose use old bards describe in luscious rlıymes, And critics learn'd explain to modern times. By this the sheets were spread, the bride up
dress'd, The room was sprinkled, and the bed was bless'd. What next ensued beseems not me to say; 'Tis sung, he labour'd till the dawning day, Then briskly spring from bed, with heart so light, ) As all were nothing he had done by night, And sipp'd his cordial as he sat npright. He kiss'd his balmy spouse with wanton play, And feebly sung a lusty roundelay: Then on the couch his weary limbs he cast; For every labour must have rest at last.
But anxious cares the pensive 'squire oppressid, Sleep fled his eyes, and peace forsook his breast; The raging flames that in his bosom dwell, He wanted art to hide, and means to tell: Yet hoping time the occasion might betray, Compos'd a sonnet to the lovely May;
Which, w:it and folded with the nicest art,
When now the fourth revolving day was ron,
Who studies now but discontented May? On her soft couch uneasily she lay: The lumpish husband snor'd away the night, Till coughs awak'd him near the morning light. What then be did, I'll not presume to tell, Nor if she thought herself in heav'n or bell: Honest and dull in nuptial bed they lay, Till the bell toll'd, and all arose to pray. . .
Were it by forceful destiny decreed, Or did from chance or nature's pow'r proceed ; ; Or that some star, with aspect kind to love, Sbed its seleçtest influence from above; Whatever was the cause, the tender dame Felt the first motions of an infant fame;
Receiv'd the impressions of the love-sick 'squire, And wasted in the soft infectious fire.
Ye fair, draw near, let May's example move Your gentle minds to pity those who love! Had some fierce tyrant in her stead been found, The poor adorer sure had hang'd, or drown'd; But she, your sex's mirror, free from pride, Was much too meek to prove a homicide.
But to my tale :-Some sages have defin'd Pleasure the sovereign bliss of humankind : Our knight (who studied much, we may suppose) Deriv'd his high philosophy from those; For, like a prince, le bore the vast expense Of lavish pomp, and proud magnificence : His house was stately, his retinue gay, Large, was his train, and gorgeous his array. His spacious garden, made to yield to none, Wąs compass'd round with walls of solid stone; Priapns could not half describe the grace (Thongh god of gardens) of this charming place : A place to tire the rambling wits of France In long descriptions, and exceed romance: Enough to shame the gentlest bard that sings Of painted meadows, and of purling springs,
Full in the centre of the flowery ground A crystal fountain spread its streams around, The fruitful banks with yerdant laurels crown'd:) About this spring (if ancient fame say true) The dapper elves their moon-light sports pursue : Their pigmy king, and little fairy queen, Io circling dances gambold on the green, While tuneful sprites a merry concert made, And airy music warbled through the shade.;
Hither the noble knight would oft repair, (His scene of pleasure, and peculiar care;)