Against her fate a smooth young Baron,
Wit he had none, Beauty he had his share on,
A soft clear Skin, a dapper Neck and Waist,
In all Things suited to the modern Taste;
And most polite, like all our modish Brood,
That is, a very Fool, who's very leud:
He ogles Miss, she squints, and turns aside,
Nor can her Mask her rising Blushes hide;
At last (as Bargains here are quickly made)
She yeilds to be Caress'd, tho' still afraid;