Until they force her to convey,
And steal the thief himself away.
These are the everlasting fruits
Of all your paffionate love-suits,

Th' effects of all your am'rous fancies,
To portions and inheritances ;
Your love-fick raptures for fruition

Of dowry, jointure, and tuition;

To which you make address and courtship,
And with your bodies strive to worship,
That th' infant's fortunes may partake
Of love too, for the mother's fake.
For these you play at purposes,
And love your loves with A's and B's;
For thefe at Befte and L'Ombre woo,
And play for love and money too;
Strive who fhall be the ableft man

At right gallanting of a fan ;

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And who the most genteelly bred

At fucking of a vizard-bead;

How best t'accoft us in all quarters,

T'our question and command new garters ;
And folidly discourse upon

All forts of dreffes pro and con:

For there's no mystery nor trade,
But in the art of love is made;

And when you have more debts to pay
Than Michaelmas and Lady-day,

And no way poffibly to do't

But love and oaths, and restless fuit,

To us y' apply, to pay the scores
Of all your cully'd past amours;

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Act o'er your flames and darts again,

1025

And charge us with your wounds and pain ;

Which other's influences long fince

Have charm'd your noses with, and shins;

For which the furgeon is unpaid,

And like to be, without our aid.

Lord! what an am'rous thing is want!

How debts and mortgages enchant!

1030

What graces must that lady have,

That can from executions fave!

What charms, that can reverse extent,

1035

And null decree and exigent!

What magical attracts, and graces,

That can redeem from fcire facias!

From bonds and statutes can discharge,
And from contempts of courts enlarge !
These are the highest excellencies

1040

Of all your true or false pretences;
And you would damn yourselves, and swear
As much t'an hoftefs dowager,
Grown fat and purfy by retail

Of pots of beer and bottled ale,

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your turn,

And find her fitter for

For fat is wondrous apt to burn ;

Who at your flames would foon take fire,
Relent, and melt to your defire,

And, like a candle in the focket,

Diffolve her graces int' your pocket.
By this time 'twas grown dark and late,
When th' heard a knocking at the gate,
Laid on in hafte, with fuch a powder,
The blows grew louder ftill and louder :
Which Hudibras, as if they 'd been,
Bestow'd as freely on his skin,
Expounding by his inward light,
Or rather more prophetic fright,
To be the wizard come to fearch,
And take him napping in the lurch,
Turn'd pale as ashes, or a clout,
But why, or wherefore, is a doubt:

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For men will tremble, and turn paler,

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With too much, or too little valour.

His heart laid on, as if it try'd

To force a paffage thro' his side,
Impatient, as he vow'd, to wait 'em,
But in a fury to fly at'em;

And therefore beat, and laid about,
To find a cranny to creep out.
But fhe, who faw in what a taking

The Knight was by his furious quaking,
Undaunted cry'd, courage, Sir Knight,

Know I'm refolv'd to break no rite
Of hospitality t' a stranger;

But, to secure you out of danger,
Will here myself stand sentinel,
To guard this pass 'gainst Sidrophel :
Women, you know, do seldom fail
To make the ftouteft men turn tail,

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