"But what so pure, which envious tongues will spare? Some wicked wits have libell'd all the fair. With matchless impudence they style a wife The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life; A bosom-serpent, a domestic evil, A night-invasion and a mid-day-devil. Let not the wife these sland'rous words regard, But curse the bones of ev'ry living bard."