Of rhime, more nauseous than three boys in buff.[339]
Though in their house the poets' heads[340] appear,
We hope we may presume their wits are here.
}
The best which they reserved they now will play, }
For, like kind cuckolds, though we've not the way }
To please, we'll find you abler men who may. }
}
If they should fail, for last recruits we breed }
A troop of frisking monsieurs to succeed: }