Two pitiful Dukes at our Race did appear;
One bespoke him a Girl, the other new Geer,
And both went away without paying I hear,
For the Cheat lov’d his Money, and so did the Peer.
Underwritten.
You Rogue, Taylor shan’t catch me, while your Legs they are cross’d.
Don’t cry, my dear Girl, since you have got more than you lost.