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But I find I am not in Humour for telling a Tale, and nothing in Nature is so ungrateful as Story-Telling against the Grain, therefore take it as the Author has given it you.

1

Mifs Molly, a fam'd Toaft, was Fair and Young, Had Wealth and Charms; but then he had a (Tongue! From Morn' to Night, th' Eternal Larum run, Which often loft thofe Hearts her Eyes had won.

Sir John was smitten, and confefs'd his Flame, Sigh'd out the ufual Time, then wed the Dame: Poffefs'd he thought of ev'ry Joy of Life, But his Dear Molly prov'd a very Wife. Excess of Fondness did in Time decline, Madam lov'd Money, and the Knight lov'd Wine. From whence fome petty Difcords would arife, ; and, You are mighty

As, You're a Fool

(Wife!

Tho' he and all the World allow'd her Wit, Her Voice was fhrill, and rather loud than Sweet; When She began, for Hat and Sword he'd call, Then, after a faint Kifs, Cry, By, Dear Moll: Supper and Friends expect me at the Rofe. And, what, Sir John, You'll get your ufual Dofe! Go, ftink of Smoke, and guzzle nafty Wine, Sure, never Virtuous Love was us'd like Mine!

Oft,

Oft, as the watchful Bellman march'd his Round, At a fresh Bottle gay Sir John he found. By Four the Knight would get his Bufinefs done, And only then reel'd off, because alone Full well he knew the dreadful Storm to come, But arm'd with Bourdeaux,he durft venture Home.

My Lady with her Tongue was ftill prepar'd, She rattled loud, and he impatient heard: 'Tis a fine Hour! In a fweet Pickle made! And this, Sir John, is ev'ry Day the Trade. Here I fit moping all the live-long Night, Devour'd with Spleen, and Stranger to Delight; 'Till Morn' fends flaggring Home a Drunken (Beast, Refolv'd to break my Heart, as well as Reft.

(Spouse! Hey! Hoop! d'ye hear my damn'd obftrep'rous What, can't you find one Bed about the House! Will that perpetual Clack lie never ftill! That Rival to the Softness of a Mill!

Some Couch and diftant Room must be my Choice, Where I may fleep uncurs'd with Wife and Noife.

Long this uncomfortable Life they led, With fnarling Meals, and each a fep'rate Bed. To an old Uncle oft she would complain, Beg his Advice, and fearce from Tears refrain. Old Wifewood Smoak'd the Matter as it was, Cheer up, cry'd he! and I'll remove the Cause..

A won

A wondrous Spring within my Garden flows,
Of Sov'reign Virtue, chiefly to compofe
Domeftick Farrs, and Matrimonial Strife,
The beft Elixir t'appeafe Man and Wife;
Strange are th' Effects, the Qualities Divine,
'Tis Water call'd, but worth its Weight in Wine.
If in his fullen Airs Sir John fhould come,
Three Spoonfuls take, hold in your Mouth

then

(Mum:

Smile, and look Pleas'd, when he shall Rage and

Scold,

Still in your Mouth the Healing Cordial hold;
One Month this Sympathetick Med'cin try'd,
He'll grow a Lover, you a Happy Bride.
But, dearest Neece, keep this Grand Secret close,
Or ev'ry pratling Huffy'll beg a Dofe.

A Water-Bottle's brought for her Relief,
Not Nants could fooner eafe the Lady's Grief:
Her bufy Thoughts are on the Trial bent,
And Female-like, impatient for th'Event:

The Bonny Knight reels Home exceeding clear, Prepar'd for Clamour, and Domeftick War. Entring, he cries, Hey! Where's our Thunder

(fled? No Hurricane! Betty, 's your Lady dead? Madam, afide, an ample Mouthful takes, Curt' feys, looks Kind, but not a Word she speaks: Wond'ring, he star'd, fcarcely his Eyes believ'd, But found his Ears agreeably deceiv'd. Why, How now, Molly, What's the Crotchet now? She fmiles, and answers only with a Bow.

Then.

Then clafping her about, - Why, let me die!
Thefe Nightcloaths, Moll, become thee mightily!
With that, he figh'd, her Hand began to prefs,
And Betty calls, her Lady to undress.
Nay, kiss me, Molly, for I'm much inclin'd:
Her Lace fhe cuts, to take him in the Mind.
Thus the fond Pair to Bed enamour'd went,
The Lady pleas'd, and the good Knight content.

For many Days thefe fond Endearments pass'd, The reconciling Bottle fails at laft; 'Twas us'd and

gone, Then Midnight Storms

(arofe, And Looks and Words the Union difcompofe. Her Coach is order'd, and Poft-hafte fhe flies, To beg her Uncle for fome fresh Supplies ; Transported does the ftrange Effects relate, Her Knight's Converfion, and her happy State!

Why, Neece, fays he, I prithee apprehend The Water's Water, Be thy felf thy Friend; Such Beauty would the coldest Husband warm, But your provoking Tongue undoes the Charm: Be filent, and complying, You'll soon find, Sir John, without a Med'cin, will be kind.

St. James's Coffee-house, April 13.

Letters from Venice fay, The Disappointment of their Expectation to fee his Danish Majesty, has very much difquieted the Court of Rome. Our laft Advices from Germany inform us, That the Minister of Hanover has urg'd the Council at Ratisbonne to exert them

felves in Behalf of the Common Caufe, and taken the Liberty to fay, That the Dignity, the Virtue, the Prudence of his Electoral Highness, his Mafter, were call'd to the Head of their Affairs in vain, if they thought fit to leave him naked of the proper Means to make thofe Excellencies useful for the Honour and Safety of the Empire. They write from Berlin of the 13th, O. S. That the true Design of General Fleming's Visit to that Court was, to infinuate, that it will be for the mutual Interest of the King of Pruffia and King Auguftus to enter into a new Alliance; but that the Ministers of Prussia are not inclin❜d to his Sentiments. We hear from Vienna, That his Imperial Majesty has exprefs'd great Satisfaction in their High Mightineffes having communicated to him the whole that has pass'd in the Affair of a Peace. Tho' there have been Practices us'd by the Agents of France, in all the Courts of Europe, to break the good Understanding of the Allies, they have had no other Effect, but to make all the Members concern'd in the Alliance, more doubtful of their Safety from the great Offers of the Enemy. The Empire is rouz'd by this Alarm, and the Frontiers of all the French Dominions are in Danger of being infulted the ensuing Campagne Advices from all Parts confirm, That it is impoffible for France to find a Way to obtain so much Credit, as to gain any one Potentate of the Allies, or conceive any Hope for Safety from other Prospects.

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