ABSTRACT
A C E R T A IN gentleman had a daughter whose cheeks were fair as Venus’ , her face resplendent as the moon, her bosom white as silver. When she was of age he bestowed her on a husband. The husband was no proper match for her socially; however, when a melon is ripe it becomes watery, and goes to waste unless you split it. It was a case of dire necessity; he gave his daughter to a social inferior, fearing she might otherwise go bad.
