'Till she lets the Hunter get over her:
With her breast she does butt, and she bubs up her Scut,
When the Bullets fly close by her Ear;
She strives not to escape, but she mumps like an Ape,
And she turns up, &c.
The Ferret he goes in, through flaggs thick and thin,
Whilst Mettle pursueth his Chace;
The Cunny she shows play, and in the best of her way,
Like a Cat she does spit in his Face:
Tho' she lies in the Dust, she fears not his Nest,