THE 1 WIFE OF BATH, I HER TAL L E. N days of old, when Arthur fill'd the throne, blown ; The king of elfs and little fairy queen Gamboll'd on heaths, and danc'd on ev'ry green; Above the rest our Britain held they dear, And made more fpacious rings, and revell'd half 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 drefs'd, To fkim the bowls, and after pay the feaft. 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 sprinkled 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 crofs 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 seen, The midnight parfon pofting o'er the green, With gown tuck'd up, to wakes, for funday 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 A lufty knight was pricking o'er the plain; gay Now turning short, he better likes her face. And they, not bad, but in a vicious age, Had not, to pleafe the prince, debauch'd the ftage. Now what fhould Arthur do? He lov'd the knight, But fovereign monarchs are the source of right: And pray'd fo hard for mercy from the prince, 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; reserving still 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 question, 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, furprised, unknowing what to fay, Thou damn thyfelf) we give thee farther day: A year is thine to wander at thy will; And learn from others, if thou want'ft the fkill. But, not to hold our proffer turn'd in scorn, 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, He put in bail for his return again, And promis'd answer at the day affign'd, The best, with heav'ns affiftance, he could find. |