Scanderbeg :: :: University of Virginia Library

Well , Sir!—What say you?—You who boldly dare
Attack our Sex, and scandalize the Fair?
Do you not like us by our Author's Painting?
Or do you think 'tis a fictitious Sainting?
He says from Nature each Idea springs,
And draws us as we are—poor—harmless Things—
Draws us with Beauty, Meekness, Modesty,
And (which is still more strange) with Constancy.

If Resolution's prov'd by fiery Trials,
She sure is virtuous, who gives three Denials:
Who strongly fights against the Force of Passion,
And makes her Virtue conquer Inclination:
Whose Honour rises timely to her Aid,
Spite of the Frailties of a yielding Maid;
When warm Desire boils up without her Call,
And bids the pressing Lover push at All.

Once ask'd, and Virtuous, is but little Merit,
But she who thrice refuses must have Spirit:
With distant—bowing Sparks—'tis easy Dealing;
But dev'lish hard to stop the Sense of Feeling:
Nature will struggle to contrive our Fall,
And if she conquers—then good Night to All—
For in this Point the Learned all agree,
The Door will open, if she keeps the Key.

To obviate this our Author makes me shew,
How much the virtuous Fair, resolv'd, can do:
His honest Aim strives to make me appear,
What all shou'd be—and what he hopes you are.