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LOOK, said Quinzica, she’s ashamed ’tis plain
So many lookers on her love restrain;
But be assured, if we were left alone,
Around my neck her arms would soon be thrown.

IF this, replied the pirate, you believe,
Attend her toilet:–naught can then deceive.
Away they went, and closely shut the door;
When Richard said, thou darling of my store,
How can’st thou thus behave? my pretty dove,
‘Tis thy Quinzica, come to seek his love,
In all the same, except about his wife;
Dost in this face a change observe my life?
‘Tis grieving for thy loss that makes me ill;
Did ever I in aught deny thy will?
In dress or play could any thee exceed?
And had’st thou not whatever thou might’st need?
To please thee, oft I made myself a slave;
Such thou art now; but thee again I crave.
Then what dost think about thy honour, dear?–
Said she, with ire, I neither know nor fear;
Is this a time to guard it, do you say?
What pain was shown by any one, I pray;
When I was forc’d to wed a man like you,
Old, impotent, and hateful to the view,
While I was young and blooming as the morn,
Deserving truly, something less forlorn,
And seemingly intended to possess
What Hymen best in store has got to bless;
For I was thought by all the world around,
Most worthy ev’ry bliss in wedlock found.

YET things took quite another turn with me
In tune my husband never proved to be,
Except a feast or two throughout the year;
From Pagamin I met a diff’rent cheer;
Another lesson presently he taught;
The life’s sweet pleasures more the pirate brought,
In two short days, than e’er I had from you
In those four years that only you I knew.

PRAY leave me husband:–let me have my will
Insist not on my living with you still;
No calendars with Pagamin are seen–
Far better treated with the man I’ve been.
My other friends and you much worse deserved:
The spouse, for taking me when quite unnerved,
And they, for giving preference base to gold,
To those pure joys–far better thought than told.
But Pagamin in ev’ry way can please;
And though no code he owns, yet all is ease;
Himself will tell you what has passed this morn,
His actions would a sov’reign prince adorn.
Such information may excite surprise,
But now the truth, ’twere useless to disguise,
Nothing will gain belief, we’ve no one near
To witness our discourse:–adieu, my dear,
To all your festivals–I’m flesh and blood:–
Gems, dresses, ornaments, do little good;
You know full well, betwixt the head and heel,
Though little’s said, yet much we often feel.
On this she stopt, and Richard dropt his chin,
Rejoiced to ‘scape from such unwelcome din.

BARTHOLOMEA, pleased with what had passed;
No disposition showed to hold him fast;
The downcast husband felt such poignant grief,
With ills where age can scarcely hope relief,
That soon he left this busy stage of life,
And Pagamin the widow took to wife.
The deed was just, for neither of the two
E’er felt what oft in Richard rose to view;
From feeling proof arose their mutual choice;
And ‘tween them ne’er was heard the jarring voice.

BEHOLD a lesson for the aged man;
Who thinks, when old, to act as he began;
But, if the sage a yielding dotard seems,
His work is done by those the wife esteems;
Complaints are never heard; no thrilling fears;
And ev’ry one around at ease appears.