For a bare bout, ill huddled o'er in haste,While o'er my side the fair her mantle cast!You to your husband shall not be so kind,But lest you should, your mantle leave behind.Encourage him to tope, but kiss him not,Nor mix one drop of water in his pot.If he be fuddled well, and snores apace,Then we may take advice from time and place.When all depart, while compliments are loud,Be sure to mix among the thickest crowd;There I will be, and there we cannot miss,Perhaps to grubble, or at least to kiss.Alas, what length of labor I employ,Just to secure a short and transient joy!For night must part us, and when night is comeTuck'd underneath his arm, he leads you home.He locks you in, I follow to the door,His fortune envy, and my own deplore;He kisses you, he more than kisses too,Th' outrageous cuckold thinks it all his due.