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.