With hollow blasts of wind,
A damsel lay deploring,
All on a rock reclin'd.
The What d' ye call it. Act ii. Sc. 8.
[[348]]
So comes a reckoning when the banquet 's o'er,—
The dreadful reckoning, and men smile no more.[348:1]
The What d' ye call it. Act ii. Sc. 9.
'T is woman that seduces all mankind;
By her we first were taught the wheedling arts.