Assist me, I pray, in this woful attack;
For—sure I don't wrong you—you seldom are slack,
When the ladies are calling, to blush and hang back.
For you're always polite and attentive,
Still to amuse us inventive,
And death is your only preventive:
Your hands and your voices for me.
MRS. BULKLEY.
Well, Madam, what if, after all this sparring,
We both agree, like friends, to end our jarring?