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Who have fo fov'reign a control

O'er that poor flave of your's, my foul,

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That, rather than to forfeit you,

Has ventur'd lofs of heav'n too;
Both with an equal pow'r possest,

To render all that serve you bleft;

But none like him, who's deftin'd either

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To have or lose you both together;

And if you 'll but this fault release,

For so it must be, fince you please,

I'll pay down all that vow, and more,
Which you commanded, and I swore,
And expiate, upon my fkin,
Th' arrears in full of all my
For 'tis but just that I should pay
Th' accruing penance for delay,

fin :

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Which shall be done, until it move
Your equal pity and your love.

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The knight, perusing this epistle,

Believ'd he 'ad brought her to his whistle;
And read it, like a jocund lover,

With great applause, t' himself, twice over; 340
Subfcrib'd his name, but at a fit

And humble distance, to his wit:
And dated it with wondrous art,
Giv'n from the bottom of his heart:
Then seal'd it with his coat of love,
A smoking faggot—and above
Upon a fcroll-I burn, and weep-
And near it--for her ladyfhip,
Of all her fex most excellent,
These to her gentle hands present.
Then gave it to his faithful fquire,

With leffons how t' observe, and eye her.

She first confider'd which was better,

To fend it back, or burn the letter:

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But gueffing that it might import,

Tho' nothing else, at least her sport,
She open'd it, and read it out,

With many a smile and leering flout;
Refolv'd to answer it in kind,

And thus perform'd what she design'd.

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Epistle to his Lady, Line 337.

L. Rofs in soulp.

THE

LADY'S ANSWER

то THE

KNIGHT.

THAT you're a beast and turn'd to grass,

Is no strange news, nor ever was ;
At least to me, who once, you know,

Did from the pound replevin you,

When both your sword and spurs were won 5
In combat, by an Amazon;

That fword that did, like fate, determine
Th' inevitable death of vermine,

And never felt its furious blows,

But cut the throats of pigs and cows,

By Trulla was, in single fight,

Difarm'd and wrested from its knight,

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Your heels degraded of your spurs,
And in the stocks close prisoners:

Where still they 'ad lain, in base restraint,
If I, in pity of your complaint,

Had not, on hon'rable conditions,
Releast 'em from the worst of prisons ;
And what return that favour met,
You cannot, tho' you wou'd, forget;

When being free, you strove t' evade,
The oaths you had in prison made:
Forfwore yourself, and first deny'd it,
But after own'd, and justify'd it :

And when y' had falfely broke one vow,
Abfolv'd yourself, by breaking two.
For while you sneakingly submit,
And beg for pardon at our feet;
Difcourag❜d by your guilty fears,
To hope for quarter, for your ears;

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