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209

The Lady's ANSWER to the KNIGHT.

'Hat you're a Beast and turn'd to Grass,

TH

Is no strange News, nor ever was;
At leaft, to me, who once you know,
Did from the Pound Replevin you

When both your Sword, and Spurs were won
In Combat, by an Amazon;

That Sword, that did (like Fate) determine
Th' inevitable Death of Vermine ;
And never dealt its furious Blows,
But cut the Threads of Pigs or Cows;
By Trulla was, in fingle Fight,
Difarm'd, and wrefted from its Knight.
Your Heels Degraded of your Spurs,
And in the Stocks, close Prisoners;
Where ftill they'd lain in base Restraint,
If I, in pity of your Complaint,

Had no ton Hon'rable Conditions,
Releaft 'em from the worst of Prisons,
And what Return that Favour met,
You cannot (though you would) forget;
When being free, you ftrove t' evade,
The Oaths you had in Prison made :
Forfwore your felf, and firft deny'd it,
But after own'd, and juftify'd it:
And when y' had safely broke one Vow,
Abíolv'd your self, by breaking two.
For while you fneakingly submit,
And beg for Pardon at our Feet:
Difcourag'd by your guilty Fears,
To hope for Quarter, for yourEars;
And doubting 'twas in vain to fue,
You claim us boldly as your due.
Declare that Treachery and Force
To deal with us is th' only Course
Who have no Title nor pretence,
To Body, Soul, or Confcience:

But ought to fall to that Man's fhare,

That claims us for his

proper Ware.

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These are the Motives, which t' induce,
Or fright us into Love, you use,
A pretty new way of Gallanting;
Between Solliciting and Ranting
Like sturdy Beggars, that intreat
For Charity at once, and threat.
But fince you undertake to prove
Your own Propriety in Love,
As if we were but Lawful Prize
In War, between two Enemies;
Or Forfeitures, which ev'ry Lover
That would but fue for, might recover,
It is not hard to understand

The Mystry of this bold Demand:
That cannot at our Perfons aim,
But something capable of Claim.
'Tis not those paultry Counterfeit
French Stones, which in our Eyes you set,
But our Right Diamonds, that infpire,
And fet your Am'rous Hearts on fire :
Nor can thofe falfe St. Martin's Beads,
Which on our Lips you lay for Reds ;
0.2

And

And make us wear, like Indian Dames,
Add Fuel to your fcorching Flames,
But those true Rubies of the Rock,
Which in our Cabinets we lock.

Tis not thofe Orient Pearls, our Teeth,
That you are so transported with;
But thofe we wear about our Necks,
Produce thofe Amorous Effects.

Nor is't thofe Threads of Gold, our Hair
The Perriwigs you make us wear ;

But those bright Guinea's in our Chests,
That light the Wild-fire in your Breafts.
Thefe Love-Tricks I 've been vers'd in fo,
That all their fly Intrigues I know,
And can unriddle by their Tones,
Their Mystick Cabals, and Jargons.
Can tell what Paffions, by their Sounds,
Pine for the Beauties of my Grounds;
What Rapture's fond, and Amorous
O'th' Charms and Graces of my Houfse;
What Extafie, and fcorching Flame
Burns for my Money, in my

Name.

What

VVhat from th' unnatural Defire

To Beafts and Cattel, take its Fire;
VVhat tender Sigh, and trickling Tear,.
Longs for a Thousand Pound a Year;
And Languishing Transports are fond
Of Statute, Mortgage, Bill and Bond.

These are th' Attracts which most Men fall Inamour'd, at first Sight, withal.

To these th' Addrefs with Serenades,
And Court with Balls and Masquerades ;
And yet, for all the yearning Pain
Y' have fuffer'd for their Loves, in vain:
I fear they'll prove so nice and coy,
To have, and t' hold, and to enjoy;
That all your Oaths, and Labour lost,
They'll ne'er turn Ladies of the Post.
This is not meant to disapprove

Your Judgment in your Choice of Love;
VVhich is fo wife, the greatest part

Of Mankind study 't as an Art,
For Love fhould, like a Deodand,

Still fall to th' Owner of the Land,

L

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