To t'other ear I felt it coming on: 'Tis true, a glafs will bring fupplies And as for hands, there have been those, A quiet LIFE and a good NAME. To a friend who married a fhrew. Written in the Year 1724. NELL fcolded in fo loud a din, 'That Will durft hardly venture in : He markt the conjugal difpute; Nell roar'd inceffant, Dick fat mute; But, when he faw his friend appear, Cry'd bravely, Patience, good my dear. *There was about this time a man fhewed, who wrote with his foot, At fight of Will, she bawl'd no more, Why Dick! the devil's in thy Nell, Scripture you know exhorts us to it; Will went again to visit Dick; With Dick's own ftaff, his peaceful neigh bour: Poor Will, who needs muft interpofe, But now, to make my story short Z-ds, Z—ds, I would fhip her to Jamaica, Dear Will; but what would people say? Lord! I fhould get fo ill a name, The neighbours roundwould cry out fhame. Dick fuffer'd for his peace and credit; But who believ'd him, when he faid it? Can he, who makes himself a flave, Confult his peace, or credit fave? Dick found it by his ill fuccess, His quiet fmall, his credit less. She ferv'd him at the ufual rate; She stunn'd and then fhe broke, his pate. And, what he thought the hardest case, The parish jeer'd him to his face; Those men, who wore the breeches leaft, Call'd him a cuckold, fool and beast. At home he was purfu'd with noife; Abroad was pefter'd by the boys: Within, his wife would break his bones; Without, they pelted him with ftones : The 'prentices procur'd a riding * To act his patience, and her chiding. A riding, a humorous cavalcade ftill practifed in fome parts of England to ridicule a fcolding wife and henpecked husband: a woman beftrides F 3 the horfe, and with a ladle chaftifes a man, who fits on a pillion behind her with his face to the horfe's tail. Falle False patience and mistaken pride! There are ten thousand Dicks befide; Slaves to their quiet and good name, Are us'd like Dick, and bear the blame. Some ingenious gentlemen, friends to the author, used to entertain themselves with writing riddles, and fending them to him and their other acquaintance; copies of which ran about, and fome of them were printed both in England and Ireland. The author at his leifure hours fell into the fame amufement; although it be faid, that he thought them of no great merit, entertainment, or use. However, by the advice of fome perfons, for whom the author had a great efteem, and who were pleased to fend the copies, the few followlowing have been published (which are allowed to be genuine): because we are informed that feveral good judges have a taste for fuch kind of compofitions. A RID D L E. IN Written in the Year 1724. I. N youth exalted high in air, Nature Nature to form me took delight, And then, with heart more hard than stone, All languages I can command, Yet not a word I understand. |