That makes knights errant fall in trances,
And lay about them in Romances:

'Tis virtue, wit, and worth, and all That men divine and facred call; 465 For what is worth in any thing,

But so much money as 'twill bring?
Or what but riches is there known
Which man can solely call his own;
In which no creature goes his half,
470 Unless it be to squint and laugh?
I do confefs, with goods and land,
I'd have a wife at fecond hand;
And fuch you are: nor is't your person
My stomach's fet so sharp and fierce on;
475 But 'tis (your better part) your riches,
That my enamour'd heart bewitches;
Let me your fortunes but poffefs,
And settle your perfon how you please,
Or make it o'er in trust to th' devil,
480 You'll find me reasonable and civil.

Quoth fhe, I like this plainness better
Than falfe mock-paffion, Speech, or letter,
Or any feat of qualm or fwooning,
But hanging of yourself, or drowning;
485 Your only way with me to break
Your mind, is breaking of your neck:
For as when merchants break, o'erthrown
Like nine-pins, they ftrike others down :
So that would break my heart, which done,
490 My tempting fortune is your own.
These are but trifles, ev'ry lover
Will damn himself, over and over,

470 Unless it be to fquint, etc.] Pliny, in his Natural History, affirms, that uni animalium homini oculi depravantur, ande cognomina Strabonum et Poetarum, lib. a.

And greater matters undertake
For a lefs worthy miflrefs fake:

490 Yet they're the only ways to prove
Th' unfeign'd realities of love;

For he that hangs or beats out's brains,
The devil's in him if he feigns.

Quoth Hudibras, this way's too rough
500 For mere experiment and proof;
It is no jefting trivial matter,

To fwim i' th' air, or douce in water,
And, like a water-witch, try love;
That's to destroy, and not to prove :
505 As if a man fhould be diffected,
To find what part is difaffected;
Your better way is to make over
In truft, your fortune to your lover ;
Truft, is a trial, if it breck,
510 'Tis not fo defp'rate as a neck;
Befide, th' experiment's more certain,
Men venture necks to gain a fortune;
The foldier does it ev'ry day

(Eight to the week) for fix-pence pay: 515 Your pettifoggers damn their fouls,

To share with knaves in cheating fools:
And merchants, vent'ring through the main,
Slight pyrates, rocks, and horns, for gain;
This is the way I'dvife you to,

520 Trust me, and fee what I will do.

Quoth fhe, I fhould be loth to run
Myself all th' hazard, and you none,
Which must be done, unlefs fome deed
Of yours aforefaid do precede;
525 Give but yourself one gentle fwing
For trial, and I'll cut the string:

Or give that rev'rend head a mall, Or two, or three, against a wall; To fhow you are a man of mettle, 130 And I'll engage myself to settle.

Quoth he, my head's not made of brafs,
As friar Bacon's noddle was ;

Not (like the Indian's skull) so tough, That, authors fay, 'twas mufquet-proof: 535 As it had need-to be to enter

As yet on any new adventure:
You fee what bangs it has endur'd,
That would, before new feats, be cur'd:
But if that's all you stand upon,
540 Mere ftrike me luck, it fhall be done.

Quoth fhe, the matter's not fo far gone
As you fuppofe, Two words t'a bargain;
That may be done, and time enough,
When you have given downright proof:
545 And yet 'tis no fantastic pique
I have to love, nor coy diflike;
'Tis no implicit, nice aversion
T' your converfation, mein, or perfon,
But a just fear, left you should prove

550 Falfe and perfidious in love:

532 As friar Bacon's noddle was, etc.] The tradition of friar Bacon, and the brazen head, is very commonly known; and, confidering the times he lived in, is not much more Strange than what another great philofopher, of his name, has fince delivered of a ring, that being tied in a string, and held like a pendulum in the middle of a filver bowl, will vibrate of itself, and tell exactly against the sides of the di vining cup, the fame thing with, time is, time was, etc.

533 American Indians, among whom (the fame authors affirm) there are others, whofe skulls are so foft, to use their own words, Ut digito perforari possunt.

For if I thought you could be true,
I could love twice as much as you.

Quoth he, my faith as adamantine,
As chains of destiny, I'll maintain;
555 True as Apollo ever spoke,
Or oracle from heart of oak;
And if you'll give my flame but vent,
Now in clofe hugger-mugger pent,
And shine upon me but benignly,
560 With that one, and that other pigsney,
The fun and day shall fooner part,
Than love, or you, shake off my heart;
The fun that shall no more dispense
His own but your bright influence;
365 I'll carve your name on barks of trees,
With true love-knots and flourishes ;
That shall infufe eternal spring,
And everlasting flourishing;

Drink ev'ry letter on't in flum
570 And make it brisk champaign become:
Where-e'er you tread, your foot shall fet
The primrose and the violet;

All fpices, perfumes, and fweet powders,
Shall borrow from your breath their odours;

575 Nature her charter fhall renew,

And take all lives of things from you;
The world depend upon your eye,
And when you frown upon it, die.
Only our love fhall still furvive,

580 New worlds, and natures to out-live;
And like to heralds moons, remain

All crefcents, without change or wane.

556 Or oracle, etc.] Jupiter's oracle in Epirus, near the eity of Dodona, Ubi Nemus erat Foi facrum, Qerneum to-tum, in quo Jovis Dodonaei templum fuife narratur.

Hold, hold, quoth fhe, no more of this,
Sir Knight, you take your aim amifs:
$85 For you will find it a hard chapter
To catch me with poetic rapture,
In which your mastery of art

Doth fhew itfelf, and not your heart;
Nor will you raise in mine combustion,
590 By dint of high heroic fustian :
She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say of her, they mean.
No more than on the thing they lean.
595 Some with Arabian spices strive
T'embalm her cruelly alive;

Or feafon her, as French cooks ufe
Their haut-gous, bouillies, or ragous;
Use her fo barbarously ill,

600 To grind her lips upon a mill,
Until the facet doublet doth

Fit their rhymes rather than her mouth ;
Her mouth compar'd t' an oyster's, with
A row of pearl in 't, instead of teeth;
605. Others make posies of her cheeks,
Where red and whiteft colours mix;
In which the lilly, and the rofe
For Indian lake, and cerufe goes.
The fun and moon by her bright eyes
610 Eclips'd, and darken'd in the skies,
Are but black patches, that she wears,
Cut into funs, and moons, and stars:
By which aftrologers, as well

As thofe in heav'n above, can tell
415 What strange events they do forefhow
Unto her under-world below.