For that’s the way, whatever you suppose, To slip your neck within the ready noose.” Thus, my beloved friend, a girl, if wise, Upon her Prudence, not her Truth, relies; It is confess’d, that not the good and pure Are in this world of calumny secure— And therefore never let a lass rely Upon her goodness and her chastity! Her very virtue makes her heedless: youth 130 Reveals imprudent, nay injurious, truth; Whereas, if conscious that she merit blame, She grows discreet, and well defends her fame, And thus, offending, better makes her way— As Joseph Surface argues in the play— Than when in virtue’s strength she proudly stood, So wrongly right, and so absurdly good. Now, when your Charles shall be your judge, and try } His own dear damsel—questioning how and why— } Let her be ready, arm’d with prompt reply; 140} No hesitation let the man discern, But answer boldly, then accuse in turn: Some trifling points with candid speech confess’d, You gain a monstrous credit for the rest. Then may you wear the Injured Lady frown, And with your anger keep his malice down; Accuse, condemn, and make him glad at heart To sue for pardon, when you come to part. But let him have it; let him go in peace, And all inquiries of themselves will cease; 150 To touch him nearer, and to hold him fast, Have a few tears _in petto_ at the last— But this with care! for ’tis a point of doubt, If you should end with weeping or without. ’Tis true you much affect him by your pain, But he may want to prove his power again; And, then, it spoils the look, and hurts the eyes— A girl is never handsome when she cries. Take it for granted, in a general way, The more you weep for men, the more you may. 160 Save your resources; for, though now you cry With good effect, you may not by and by. It is a knack; and there are those that weep Without emotion, that a man may sleep; Others disgust—’tis genius, not advice, That will avail us in a thing so nice. If you should love him, you have greater need Of all your care, and may not then succeed. For that’s our bane—we should be conquerors all With hearts untouch’d—our feelings cause our fall. 170 But your experience aids you: you can hide Your real weakness in your borrow’d pride. But to the point—should so the Charge be laid, That nought against it fairly can be said— How would you act? You would not then confess?— _C._ Oh! never! no!—nor even my Truth profess! To mute contempt I would alone resort For the Reporters, and for their Report. If he profess’d forgiveness, I would cry— “Forgive such faithlessness! so would not I! 180 Such errors pardon! he that so would act Would, I am sure, be guilty of the fact. Charles, if I thought your spirit was so mean, I would not longer in your walks be seen; Could you such woman for a moment prize?