Quoth he, To bid me not to love, Is to forbid my pulse to move, My beard to grow, my ears to prick up, 345 Or (when I'm in a fit) to hickup: Command me to piss out the moon, And 'twill as easily be done: Love's power's too great to be withstood By feeble human flesh and blood. 350 'Twas he that brought upon his knees The hect'ring, kill-cow HERCULES; Transform'd his leager-lion's skin T' a petticoat, and made him spin; Seiz'd on his club, and made it dwindle 355 T' a feeble distaff, and a spindle. 'Twas he that made emperors gallants To their own sisters and their aunts; Set popes and cardinals agog, To play with pages at leap-frog. 360 'Twas he that gave our Senate purges, And flux'd the House of many a burgess; Made those that represent the nation Submit, and suffer amputation; And all the Grandees o' the Cabal 365 Adjourn to tubs at Spring and Fall. He mounted Synod-Men, and rode 'em To Dirty-Lane and Little Sodom; Made 'em curvet like Spanish jenets, And take the ring at Madam [Bennet's] 370 'Twas he that made Saint FRANCIS do More than the Devil could tempt him to, In cold and frosty weather, grow Enamour'd of a wife of snow; And though she were of rigid temper, 375 With melting flames accost and tempt her; Which after in enjoyment quenching, He hung a garland on his engine Quoth she, If Love have these effects, Why is it not forbid our sex? 380 Why is't not damn'd and interdicted, For diabolical and wicked? And sung, as out of tune, against, As Turk and Pope are by the Saints? I find I've greater reason for it, 385 Than I believ'd before t' abhor it. Quoth HUDIBRAS, These sad effects Spring from your Heathenish neglects Of Love's great pow'r, which he returns Upon yourselves with equal scorns; 390 And those who worthy lovers slight, Plagues with prepost'rous appetite. This made the beauteous Queen of Crete To take a town-bull for her sweet, And from her greatness stoop so low, 395 To be the rival of a cow: Others to prostitute their great hearts, To he baboons' and monkeys' sweet-hearts; Some with the Dev'l himself in league grow, By's representative a Negro. 400 'Twas this made vestal-maids love-sick, And venture to be bury'd quick: Some by their fathers, and their brothers, To be made mistresses and mothers. 'Tis this that proudest dames enamours 405 On lacquies and valets des chambres; Their haughty stomachs overcomes, And makes 'em stoop to dirty grooms; To slight the world, and to disparage Claps, issue, infamy, and marriage. 410