Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/303
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The WIFE of BATH.
267
How Sampson fell; and he whom Dejanire
Wrap'd in th' envenom'd shirt, and set on fire.
How curs'd Eryphile her Lord betray'd,
And the dire ambush Clytemnestra lay'd.
But what most pleas'd him was the Cretan dame,
And husband-bull—oh monstrous! fie, for shame!
He had by heart the whole detail of woe
Xantippe made her good man undergo;
How oft' she scolded in a day, he knew,
How many piss-pots on the sage she threw;
Who took it patiently, and wip'd his head;
Rain follows thunder, that was all he said.
He read, how Arius to his friend complain'd,
A fatal Tree was growing in his land,
On which three wives successively had twin'd
A sliding noose, and waver'd in the wind.
Where grows this plant (reply'd the friend) oh where?
For better fruit did never orchard bear:
Give me some slip of this most blissful tree,
And in my garden planted shall it be!
Wrap'd in th' envenom'd shirt, and set on fire.
How curs'd Eryphile her Lord betray'd,
And the dire ambush Clytemnestra lay'd.
But what most pleas'd him was the Cretan dame,
And husband-bull—oh monstrous! fie, for shame!
He had by heart the whole detail of woe
Xantippe made her good man undergo;
How oft' she scolded in a day, he knew,
How many piss-pots on the sage she threw;
Who took it patiently, and wip'd his head;
Rain follows thunder, that was all he said.
He read, how Arius to his friend complain'd,
A fatal Tree was growing in his land,
On which three wives successively had twin'd
A sliding noose, and waver'd in the wind.
Where grows this plant (reply'd the friend) oh where?
For better fruit did never orchard bear:
Give me some slip of this most blissful tree,
And in my garden planted shall it be!
Then