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The Magick Cup
by
THE metamorphosis our dame surprised;
To give relief her tears but just sufficed;
She scarcely spoke; the husband, days remained,
Reflecting on the circumstance that pained.
Himself a cuckold could he ever make,
By mere design a liberty to take?
But, horned or not? the question seemed to be,
When Neria told him, if from doubts not free,
Drink from the cup:–with so much art ’tis made,
That, whose’er of cuckoldom ‘s afraid,
Let him but put it to his eager lips
If he’s a cuckold, out the liquor slips;
He naught can swallow; and the whole is thrown
About his face or clothes, as oft ‘s been shown.
But should, from out his brow, no horns yet pop–
He drinks the whole, nor spills a single drop.
THE doubt to solve, our husband took a sup,
From this famed, formidably, magick cup;
Nor did he any of the liquor waste:–
Well, I am safe, said he, my wife is chaste,
Though on myself it wholly could depend;
But from it what have I to apprehend?
Make room, good folks, who leafless branches wear;
If you desire those honours I should share.
Thus Damon spoke, and to his precious wife
A curious sermon preached, it seems, on life.
IF cuckoldom, my friends, such torments give;
‘Tis better far ‘mong savages to live!
LEST worse should happen, Damon settled spies,
Who, o’er his lady watched with Argus’ eyes.
She turned coquette; restraints the FAIR awake,
And only prompt more liberties to take.
The silly husband secrets tried to know,
And rather seemed to seek the wily foe,
Which fear has often rendered fatal round,
When otherwise the ill had ne’er been found.
FOUR times an hour his lips to sip he placed;
And clearly, for a week was not disgraced.
Howe’er, no further went his ease of mind;
Oh, fatal science! fatally designed!
With fury Damon threw the cup away,
And, in his rage, himself inclined to slay.
HIS wife he straight shut up within a tower,
Where, morn and night, he showed a husband’s pow’r,
Reproach bestowed: while she bewailed her lot,
‘Twere better far, if he’d concealed the blot;
For now, from mouth to mouth, and ear to ear,
It echoed, and re-echoed far and near.
MEANWHILE Calista led a wretched life;
No gold nor jewels Damon left his wife,
Which made the jailer faithful, since ’twere vain
To hope, unbribed, this Cerberus to gain.
AT length, the wife a lucky moment sought,
When Damon seemed by soft caresses caught.
Said she, I’ve guilty been, I freely own;
But though my crime is great, I’m not alone;
Alas! how few escape from like mishap;
‘Mong Hymen’s band so common is the trap;
And though at you the immaculate may smile,
What use to fret and all the sex revile?
WELL I’ll console myself, and pardon you,
Cried Damon, when sufficient I can view,
Of ornamented foreheads, just like mine,
To form among themselves a royal line;
‘Tis only to employ the magick cup,
From which I learned your secrets by a sup.
HIS plan to execute, the husband went,
And ev’ry passenger was thither sent,
Where Damon entertained, with sumptuous fare;
And, at the end, proposed the magick snare:
Said he, my wife played truant to my bed;
Wish you to know if your’s be e’er misled?
‘Tis right how things go on at home to trace,
And if upon the cup your lips you place,
In case your wife be chaste, there’ll naught go wrong;
But, if to Vulcan’s troop you should belong,
And prove an antlered brother, you will spill
The liquor ev’ry way, in spite of skill.