In Marriage-Beds, as single People guess,
No, no, so far from that, that thousands be
Flatter'd by hopes to endless misery.
And where there's two obtain their hearts desire,
Ten thousand miss it, and in grief expire.

_Ger._ Were these Positions true, there's no man, sure,
If Widdowed once, could other Wives endure.
And yet we see the first depriv'd of Life,
There's few that seek not for a second Wife.

_Anto._ 'Tis true, though strange, but yet our minds are such,
As alwayes find too little, or too much;
Desire's a Monster, whose extended Maw
Is never fill'd, tho' it doth all things draw:
For we with envious Eyes do others see,
Who want our ills, and think they happy be,
Till we possessing what we wish'd before,
Find our ills doubl'd, and so wish for more.

_Ger._ Suppose all true which you wou'd have me fear,
Ills in possession still the greatest are:
And my desires to such a height do rise,
T' attain their ends, I shou'd all else despise.

_Anto._ Since y'are resolv'd, I'le not your ends deny,
But pray my words prove false when e're you try;
Though well they speak, who say the damned State,
Chiefly consists in wishing things too late:
_Eugenia's_ Father left her to my care,