And these the earnest angry passions fed, } Till all was fierce reproach, and peace for ever fled. } “And so you own it! own it to my face, 240 Your love is vanish’d—infamous and base!”— “Madam, I loved you truly, while I deem’d You were the truthful being that you seem’d; But, when I see your native temper rise Above control, and break through all disguise, Casting it off, as serpents do their skin, } And showing all the folds of vice within— } What see I then to love? was I in love with Sin?”— } “So may I think, and you may feel it too; A loving couple, Sir, were Sin and you! 250 Whence all this anger? is it that you find You cannot always make a woman blind? You talk of falsehood and disguise—talk on! But all my trust and confidence are gone; Remember you, with what a serious air You talk’d of love, as if you were at prayer? You spoke of home-born comforts, quiet, ease, And the pure pleasure, that must always please, With an assumed and sentimental air, Smiting your breast, and acting like a player. 260 Then your life’s comfort! and your holy joys! Holy, forsooth! and your sweet girls and boys, How you would train them!—All this farce review, And then, Sir, talk of being just and true!”— “Madam! your sex expects that ours should lie. The simple creatures know it, and comply— You hate the truth; there’s nothing you despise Like a plain man, who spurns your vanities. Are you not early taught your prey to catch? When your mammas pronounce—‘A proper match!’ 270 What said your own?—‘Do, daughter! curb your tongue, And you may win him, for the man is young; But if he views you as ourselves, good-by To speculation!—He will never try.’ “Then is the mask assumed, and then you bait Your hook with kindness! and as anglers wait, Now here, now there, with keen and eager glance, Marking your victims as the shoals advance; When, if the gaping wretch should make a snap, You jerk him up, and have him in your trap: 280 Who gasping, panting, in your presence lies, And you exulting view the imprison’d prize. “Such are your arts! while he did but intend In harmless play an idle hour to spend, Lightly to talk of love! your fix’d intent } Is on to lure him, where he never meant } To go, but, going, must his speed repent. } If he of Cupid speaks, you watch your man, And make a change for Hymen, if you can; Thus he, ingenuous, easy, fond, and weak, 290 Speaks the rash words he has been led to speak; Puts the dire question that he meant to shun, And by a moment’s frenzy is undone.”— “Well!” said the Wife, “admit this nonsense true— A mighty prize she gains in catching you! For my part, Sir, I most sincerely wish My landing-net had miss’d my precious fish!”— “Would that it had! or I had wisely lent An ear to those who said I should repent.”—