THE robber answer'd, if my name around, Be not for honourable acts renown'd, 'Tis quite unjust:--your partner I'll restore In health, without a ransom:--would you more? A friendship so respect'd, heav'n forefend! Should ever, by my conduct, have an end. The fair, whom you so ardently admire, Shall to your arms return as you desire, Such pleasure to a friend I would not sell; Convince me that she's your's, and all is well; For if another I to you should give, (And many that I've taken with me live,) I surely should incur a heavy blame; I lately captur'd one, a charming dame, With auburn locks, a little fat, tall, young; If she declare she does to you belong, When you she's seen, I will the belle concede; You'll take her instantly; I'll not impede. THE sage replied, your conduct's truly wise; Such wond'rous kindness fills me with surprise; But since 'tis said that every trade must live, The sum just mention:--I'll the ransom give; No compliment I wish, my purse behold You know the money presently is told; Consider me a stranger now I pray; With you I'd equal probity display, And so will act, I swear, as you shall see; There 's not a doubt the fair will go with me; My word for this I would not have you take:-- You'll see how happy 'twill the lady make To find me here; to my embrace she'll fly; My only fears--that she of joy will die. To them the charmer now was instant brought, Who eyed her husband as beneath a thought; Received him coldly, just as if he'd been A stranger from Peru, she ne'er had seen. LOOK, said Quinzica, she's ashamed 'tis plain So many lookers on her love restrain; But be assured, if we were left alone, Around my neck her arms would soon be thrown.