Crept under the bed like a terrified Hessian:
But the dauntless Xantippe, not one whit afraid,
Converted the siege into a blockade.
At last, after reasoning the thing in his pate,
He concluded 't was useless to strive against fate:
And so, like a tortoise protruding his head,
Said, "My dear, may we come out from under our bed?"
"Hah! hah!" she exclaimed, "Mr. Socrates Snooks,
I perceive you agree to my terms by your looks:
Now, Socrates—hear me—from this happy hour,