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Fir'd by the fight, all Reason I disdain ;
SMILIND A. What more than marble must that heart com
pose, Can hearken coldly to my Sharper's Vows ?
? Then, when he trembles ! when his Blushes rise ! When awful Love seems melting in his Eyes ! 90 With eager beats his Mechlin Cravat moves : He Loves - I whisper to myself, He Loves ! Such unfeign'd Passion in his Looks appears, I lose all Mem’ry of my former Fears ; My panting heart confesses all his charms, 95 I yield at once, and sink into his arms : Think of that moment, you who Prudence boast; For such a moment, Prudence well were loft.
CARD ELI A. At the Groom-Porter's, batter'd Bullies play, Some Dukes at Mary-Bone bowl Time away. 100 But who the Bowl, or rattl'ing Dice compares To Baset's heav'nly Joys, and pleasing Cares?
SMILIND A. Soft SIMPLICETTA doats upon a Beau; PRudina likes a Man, and laughs at Show. Their several graces in my SHARPER meet; 105 Strong as the Footman, as the Master sweet.
LOVET Cease your contention, which has been too long; I grow impatient, and the Tea's too strong. Attend, and yield to what I now decide ; The Equipage shall grace SMILINDA's Side : The Snuff-Box to CARDELIA I decree, Now leave complaining, and begin your Tea.
Verbatim from BOILEA U.
Un Jour dit un Auteur, etc.
NCE says an Author, (where I need not say)
Two Trav'lers found an Oyster in their way; Both fierce, both hungry; the dispute grew strong, While Scale in hand Dame Justice paft along. Before her each with clamour pleads the Laws, Explain’d the matter and would win the cause. Dame Justice weighing long the doubtful Right, Takes, opens, swallows it before their fight. The cause of strife remov'd so rarely well, There take (says Justice) take ye each a Shell. We thrive at Westminster on Fools like you: 'Twas a fat Oyster-Live in peace-Adieu.
ANSWER to the following
Question of Mrs. Howe.
HAT IS PRUDERY?
'Tis a Beldam,
Occasioned by fome Verses of
his Grace the Duke of Buck
USE, 'tis enough : at length thy labour
ends, And thou shalt live, for Buckingham commends. Let Crowds of Critics now my verfe affail, Let Dennis write, and nameless numbers rail : This more than pays whole years of thankless pain, Time, health, and fortune are not lost in vain. Sheffield approves, consenting Phæbus bends, And I and Malice from this hour are friends.