Call’d by this duty on a certain day,
And robed to grace it in a rich array,
Forth from her room, with measured step she came,
Proud of th’ event, and stately look’d the dame;
The husband met her at his study door —
“This way, my love—­one moment, and no more: 
A trifling business—­you will understand —
The law requires that you affix your hand;
But first attend, and you shall learn the cause
Why forms like these have been prescribed by laws.” 
Then from his chair a man in black arose,
And with much quickness hurried off his prose —
That “Ellen Paul, the wife, and so forth, freed
From all control, her own the act and deed,
And forasmuch”—­said she, “I’ve no distrust,
For he that asks it is discreet and just;
Our friends are waiting—­where am I to sign? —
There?—­Now be ready when we meet to dine.” 
   This said, she hurried off in great delight,
The ship was launch’d, and joyful was the night. 
   Now, says the reader, and in much disdain,
This serious Merchant was a rogue in grain;
A treacherous wretch, an artful sober knave,
And ten times worse for manners cool and grave: 
And she devoid of sense, to set her hand
To scoundrel deeds she could not understand. 
   Alas! ’tis true; and I in vain had tried
To soften crime that cannot be denied;
And might have labour’d many a tedious verse
The latent cause of mischief to rehearse: 
Be it confess’d, that long, with troubled look,
This Trader view’d a huge accompting-book;
(His former marriage for a time delay’d
The dreaded hour, the present lent its aid;)
But he too clearly saw the evil day,
And put the terror, by deceit, away;
Thus, by connecting with his sorrows crime,
He gain’d a portion of uneasy time. —
All this too late the injur’d Lady saw: 
What law had given, again she gave to law;
His guilt, her folly—­these at once impress’d
Their lasting feelings on her guileless breast. 
   “Shame I can bear,” she cried, “and want sustain,
But will not see this guilty wretch again:” 
For all was lost, and he with many a tear
Confess’d the fault—­she turning scorn’d to hear. 
To legal claims he yielded all his worth. 
But small the portion, and the wrong’d were wroth,
Nor to their debtor would a part allow;
And where to live he know not—­knew not how. 
   The Wife a cottage found, and thither went
The suppliant man, but she would not relent: 
Thenceforth she utter’d with indignant tone,
“I feel the misery, and will feel alone.” 
He would turn servant for her sake, would keep
The poorest school, the very streets would sweep,
To show his love.  “It was already shown,
And her affliction should be all her own: 
His wants and weakness might have touch’d her heart,
But from his meanness she resolved to part.” 
   In a small alley was she lodged, beside
Its humblest poor, and at the view she cried,