St. JAMES's bell had toll'd fome wretches in, {As tatter'd riding-hoods alone could fin)

The happier finners now their charms put out,
And to their manteaus their complexions fuit;
The opera queens had finish'd half their faces,
And city-dames already taken places;
Fops of all kinds, to see the Lion, run;
The beauties ftay till the firft a&t's begun,
And beaux ftep home to put fresh linen on.
No well-dress'd youth in coffee-house remain'd
But penfive PATCH, who on the window lean'd;
And SILLIANDER, that alert and gay,

Firft pick'd his teeth, and then began to fay.
SILLIANDER.

Why all these fighs ah! why fo penfive grown?

Some cause there is why thus you fit alone.
Does hapless paffion all this forrow move?

Or dost thou envy where the ladies love?

PATCH.

If, whom they love, my envy must pursue, 'Tis true, at least, I never envy you.

SILLIANDER.

No, I'm unhappy-you are in the right-
'Tis you they favour, and 'tis me they flight.
Yet I could tell, but that I hate to boast,
A club of ladies where 'tis me they toast.
PATCH.

Toafting does feldom any favour prove;
Like us, they never toast the thing they love.

3

}

A certain

A certain duke one night my health begun
With chearful pledges round the room it run,
"Till the young SYLVIA, press'd to drink it too,
Started and vow'd she knew not what to do:

What, drink a fellow's health! fhe dy'd with shame :
Yet blush'd whenever she pronounc'd my name.

SILLIANDER.

Ill fates pursue me, may I never find
The dice propitious, or the ladies kind,
If fair Mifs FLIPPY's fan I did not tear,
And one from me fhe condefcends to wear.
PATCH.

Women are always ready to receive ;
"Tis then a favour when the fex will give.
A lady (but she is too great to name)
Beauteous in person, spotlefs in her fame,
With gentle strugglings let me force this ring
Another day may give another thing.

SILLIANDER.

I could fay fomething-fee this billet-doux-
And as for prefents-look upon my fhoe-
These buckles were not forc'd, nor half a theft,
But a young countess fondly made the gift.

PATCH.

My countess is more nice, more artful too,
Affects to fly, that I may fierce pursue:
This fnuff-box which I begg'd, she still deny'd,
And when I ftrove to snatch it, seem'd to hide ;

She laugh'd and fled, and as I fought to feize,
With affectation cram'd it down her stays;
Yet hop'd she did not place it there unseen,
I prefs'd her breafts, and pull'd it from between.
SILLIANDER.

Last night, as I ftood ogling of her grace,
Drinking delicious poison from her face,
The foft enchantress did that face decline,
Nor ever rais'd her eyes to meet with mine;
With fudden art fome fecret did pretend,
Lean'd cross two chairs to whisper to a friend,
While the stiff whalebone with the motion rofe,
And thousand beauties to my fight expose.

PATCH.

Early this morn-(but I was afk'd to come)
I drank bohea in CALIA's dreffing room:
Warm from her bed, to me alone within,
Her night-gown faften'd with a fingle pin;
Her night-cloaths tumbled with refiftless grace,
And her bright hair play'd careless round her face;
Reaching the kettle måde her gown unpin,
She wore no waistcoat, and her shift was thin.
SILLIANDER.

See TITIANA driving to the park!
Hark! let us follow, 'tis not yet too dark:
In her all beauties of the fpring are seen,
Her cheeks are rofy, and her mantle green.

VOL. I.

G

PATCH.

PATCH.

See TINTORETTA to the opera goes!
Hafte, or the crowd will not permit our bows
In her the glory of the heav'ns we view,
Her eyes are star-like, and her mantle blue.
SILLIANDER.

What colour does in CELIA's ftockings shine?
Reveal that fecret, and the prize is thine.

PATCH.

What are her garters? tell me if you can ; I'll freely own thee far the happier man.

Thus PATCH continued his heroic ftrain, While SILLIANDER but contends in vain. After a conqueft fo important gain'd, Unrivall'd PATCH in every ruelle reign'd.

ᎣᎣᎣᎣ

86

WEDNESDAY,

The Tête à Tête.

DANCINDA.

No, fair DANCINDA, no; you strive in vain calm my care,

To calm my care, and mitigate my pain;

If all my fighs, my cares, can fail to move, "Ah! footh me not with fruitless vows of love.”

Thus

Thus STREPHON fpoke. DANCINDA thus reply'da
What must I do to gratify your pride

Too well you know (ungrateful as thou art)
How much you triumph in this tender heart:
What proof of love remains for me to grant?
Yet ftill you teaze me with fome new complaint.
Oh! would to heav'n!-but the fond wish is vain-
Too many favours had not made it plain!

But fuch a paffion breaks through all disguise,
Love reddens on my cheek, and wishes in my eyes.
Is't not enough (inhuman and unkind !)

I own the fecret conflict of my mind
You cannot know what fecret pain I prove,
When I with burning blushes own I love.
You fee my artlefs joy at your approach,
I figh, I faint, I tremble at your touch;
And in your abfence all the world I shun;
I hate mankind, and curfe the chearing fun.
Still as I fly, ten thousand fwains pursue;
Ten thousand fwains I facrifice to you.
I fhew you all my heart without disguise:
But these are tender proofs that you despise
I fee too well what wishes you pursue ;
You would not only conquer, but undo:
You, cruel victor, weary of your flame,
Would feek a cure in my eternal shame;
And not content my honour to subdue,
Now ftrive to triumph o'er my virtue too.