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38
THE TRIUMPHS


While he with wrath th' intruding Mischief eyed,
Stern to the false Penelope replied:
"Go, teasing prude! cease in my ears to vent
Thy envious pride, and peevish discontent!
To me of prudence canst thou vainly boast?
Of all my household thou hast plagued me most,
The joys thou blamest are thy dear delight,
By day the visit, and the ball by night:
And, tho' too old the lover to trepan,
Thy midnight dream, thy morning thought is man.
Wert thou less closely to my blood allied,
Thou should'st, to cure thee of thy canting pride,
Be sent to sigh alone o'er purling brooks,
Scold village maids, and croak to croaking rooks."
He spoke, indignant: the sly fiend withdrew,
Nor inly griev'd; for well her force she knew.
As Indian females, in a jealous hour,
Of secret poison try the subtlest power,
Which sure, tho' slow, corrodes th' unconscious prey
And ends its triumph on a distant day: