Canto 2
LE LUTRIN.
15
Once at a Barbers Shop she took a Lodging,
But fickle in her Humour soon was trudging
To th' Cross-keys, Gun, and Ship: still her Head-Quarters
Where e're she roam'd by day, was the Crack-farters!
Forging, and telling Stories, with swift Wings
This tale at last to Jealous Nancy brings:
She tells (her tale I'm sure, lost nought i'th' telling,)
How Johns misguided zeal, 'gainst Vows rebelling,
Under a quaint pretence to set upright
A Pew (forsooth!) intends to watch that Night;
But the perfidious wretch, intends (sayes fame)
To Gratifie another kind of Flame!
For tyr'd with Lawful Love, and honest Kisses,
He elswhere payes the Tribute of Caresses
Due to his Spouse alone: Easie Belief
Receiv'd the News with Terrour mixt with Grief!
With finger in Eye, and Hair about her Shoulders,
Poor Nan runs out; thought Mad by the beholders,
Nor caring much whether she wrong or right him,
In this rude language straight begins t'Indite him.
Dissembling Traitor! could not Faith once plighted,
Nor those Embraces wherein we delighted,
Nor thy Poor Wench ready to run a Madding,
Cool thy hot Cod-piece, but thou must be Gadding?
Perfidious Wretch! didst thou sit up to make
A Clock or Watch, some Comfort I might take;
And hope of Lawful gain might slake my Anguish,
Whilst in thy Absence, I, poor I did Languish:
But what wild Phrenzie? what capricious Folly?
What Whimsey? what Religious Melancholly?
What strange Conundrum's got into thy Head,
To leave for Rotten Pulpit thy sweet Bed?
Ah! whether goest my John? dost Fly thy Nancy?
Can our delightful Nights forsake thy Fancy?
But fickle in her Humour soon was trudging
To th' Cross-keys, Gun, and Ship: still her Head-Quarters
Where e're she roam'd by day, was the Crack-farters!
Forging, and telling Stories, with swift Wings
This tale at last to Jealous Nancy brings:
She tells (her tale I'm sure, lost nought i'th' telling,)
How Johns misguided zeal, 'gainst Vows rebelling,
Under a quaint pretence to set upright
A Pew (forsooth!) intends to watch that Night;
But the perfidious wretch, intends (sayes fame)
To Gratifie another kind of Flame!
For tyr'd with Lawful Love, and honest Kisses,
He elswhere payes the Tribute of Caresses
Due to his Spouse alone: Easie Belief
Receiv'd the News with Terrour mixt with Grief!
With finger in Eye, and Hair about her Shoulders,
Poor Nan runs out; thought Mad by the beholders,
Nor caring much whether she wrong or right him,
In this rude language straight begins t'Indite him.
Dissembling Traitor! could not Faith once plighted,
Nor those Embraces wherein we delighted,
Nor thy Poor Wench ready to run a Madding,
Cool thy hot Cod-piece, but thou must be Gadding?
Perfidious Wretch! didst thou sit up to make
A Clock or Watch, some Comfort I might take;
And hope of Lawful gain might slake my Anguish,
Whilst in thy Absence, I, poor I did Languish:
But what wild Phrenzie? what capricious Folly?
What Whimsey? what Religious Melancholly?
What strange Conundrum's got into thy Head,
To leave for Rotten Pulpit thy sweet Bed?
Ah! whether goest my John? dost Fly thy Nancy?
Can our delightful Nights forsake thy Fancy?
What!
