One fitter for your pocket than your bed!
Advised by me, the worthless baby shun,
Or you will ne'er be brought to bed of one.
Oh, take me to thy arms, and never-flinch,
Who am a man, by Jupiter! every inch.
Then, while in joys together lost we lie,[129]
I'll press thy soul while gods stand wishing by.
Hunc. If, sir, what you insinuate you prove,
All obstacles of promise you remove;
For all engagements to a man must fall,