But all in vain: her subtle snout
Did quickly wind his meaning out;
Which she return'd with too much scorn,
To be by man of honour borne;360
Yet much he bore, until the distress
He suffer'd from his spightful mistress
Did stir his stomach, and the pain
He had endur'd from her disdain
Turn'd to regret so resolute,365
That he resolv'd to wave his suit,
And either to renounce her quite,
Or for a while play least in sight.
This resolution b'ing put on,
He kept some months, and more had done,370
But being brought so nigh by fate,
The vict'ry he achiev'd so late
Did set his thoughts agog, and ope
A door to discontinu'd hope,[1]
That seem'd to promise he might win375
His dame too, now his hand was in;
And that his valour, and the honour
He 'ad newly gain'd, might work upon her:
These reasons made his mouth to water,
With am'rous longings to be at her.380
Thought he unto himself, who knows
But this brave conquest o'er my foes
May reach her heart, and make that stoop,
As I but now have forc'd the troop?
If nothing can oppugne love,[2]385
And virtue invious[3] ways can prove.
What may not he confide to do
That brings both love and virtue too?
But thou bring'st valour too, and wit,
Two things that seldom fail to hit.390
Valour's a mouse-trap, wit a gin,
Which women oft are taken in:[4]
H 2
