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1The
marmottane’s1
for unity’s renowned,2And for conjugal love they may be crowned.
3That you may see no wisdom they do lack:
4They lie alternately upon their back;
5
T’other2
with grass and herbs doth load him well;6Then by the tail she draws him to their cell.
7There, neat and warm, they join to build their nest,
8In which, all winter, they do sit and feast
9With corn and fruits by them laid up in store,
10For till next summer comes they’ll need no more.
11Surely they live, by far, more happy lives
12Than many wealthy husbands and their wives!
13Some noble minds there be, I know, will share
14Their pleasure with their wives, as well as care;
15But most to taverns—or to worse—will roam,
16Or else they’ll always
tyrannize3
at home.17If you should ask me which of these is worse,
18Trust me, I know not: either is a curse.
19If such do read these lines, to them I say:
20The Rat of Pontus’s
lovinger4
than they.