Is no strange news, nor ever was,

At least to me, who once, you know,

Did from the pound replevin you,

When both your sword and spurs were won,
In combat, by an Amazon:

That sword, that did (like fate) determine
Th' inevitable death of vermin;

And never dealt its furious blows,
But cut the threads of pigs and cows;
By Trulla was, in single fight,

Disarm'd, and wrested from its Knight,

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10

Your heels degraded of your spurs,

And in the stocks close prisoners:

Where still they'd lain, in base restraint, 15
If I, in pity of your complaint,

Had not, on hon'rable conditions,
Releas'd 'em from the worst of prisons;
And what return that favour met,

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You cannot (though you wou'd) forget; 20
When being free, you strove t' evade
The oaths you had in prison made;
Forswore yourself, and first deny'd it,
But after own'd, and justify'd it:
And when y' had falsely broke one vow,
Absolv'd yourself, by breaking two.
For while you sneakingly submit,
And beg for pardon at our feet,
Discourag'd by your guilty fears,
To hope for quarter for your ears ;

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v. 4. Did from the pound replevin you] Replevin, the releasing of cattle, or other goods distrained, with surety to answer the distrainer's suit. (See Jacob's Law Dictionary, and Baily.)

v. 13. Your heels degraded of your spurs] To this the author of Butler's Ghost refers, canto 1. p. 89.

You look, as if y' had something in ye,
Much different from the quondam ninny,
That sat with hamper'd foot i' th' stocks,
Dispersing his insipid jokes.

And perhaps, as Bertram observes of Parolles the coward, (see Snakespear's play, entitled, All's well that ends well, act 4.)

"His heels deserv'd it, for usurping his spurs so long."

In England, when a knight was degraded, his gilt spurs were beaten from his heels, and his sword taken from him, and broken. (See Sir William Segar's book, Of Honour, Civil and Military, lib. 2. chap. 13. p. 75. Selden's Titles of Honour, 2d edition, 2d part, chap. 5. p. 787.)

And doubting 'twas in vain to sue,
You claim us boldly as your due;
Declare that treachery and force,
To deal with us, is th' only course:
We have no title nor pretence
To body, soul, or conscience:
But ought to fall to that man's share
That claims us for his proper ware.

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These are the motives, which, t' induce,

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Or fright us into love, you use.
A pretty new way of gallanting,
Between soliciting and ranting;
Like sturdy beggars, that entreat
For charity at once, and threat.
But since you undertake to prove
Your own propriety in love,
As if we were but lawful prize
In war, between two enemies;

Or forfeitures, which ev'ry lover,

45

That wou'd but sue for, might recover. 50
It is not hard to understand

The myst❜ry of this bold demand;

That cannot at our persons aim,
But something capable of claim.

'Tis not those paltry counterfeit

French stones, which in our eyes you set,

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v. 43, 44. Like sturdy beggars, that entreat-For charity at once, and threat] It is observed of the beggars in Spain, that they are very proud, and when they ask an alms, it is in a very imperious and domineering way. (See Lady's Travels into Spain, part the last, p. 228.)

But our right diamonds, that inspire
And set your am'rous hearts on fire:
Nor can those false St. Martin's beads,
Which on our lips you lay for reds,
And make us wear, like Indian dames,
Add fuel to your scorching flames:
But those true rubies of the rock,
Which in our cabinets we lock.

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'Tis not those orient pearls, our teeth,

65

That you are so transported with;
But those we wear about our necks,
Produce those amorous effects.

v. 57. But our right diamonds, that inspire] The Tatler seems in one instance to be of a different opinion. (No. 151.) "What jewel (says he) can the charming Cleora place in her ears, that can please her beholders so much as her eyes? The cluster of diamonds upon her breast, can add no beauty to the fair chest of ivory that supports it; it may indeed tempt a man to steal a woman, but not to love her." -St. Martin's beads] Artificial rubies. (ED.)

v. 59.

v. 61. And make us wear, like Indian dames, &c.] Who wore stones hung at their lips. (Mr. W.) The Brazilians do so, as Maffeus affirms. Purchase his Pilgrims, vol. 5. b. 9. p. 906. See Knivet's account, ibid. vol. 4. p. 1225. and an account of the several nations that wear stones in their lips, Dr. Bulwer's Artificial Changeling, sc. 11.

v. 65. 'Tis not those orient pearls, our teeth, &c.] In the History of Don Fenise, a Romance, translated from the Spanish of Francisco de Las Coveras, 1651; Don Antonio, speaking of his mistress Charity, p. 269, says, "My covetousness exceeding my love, counselled me, that it was better to have gold in money, than in threads of hair; and to possess pearls that resembled teeth, than teeth that were like pearls."

Ibid. In praising Cloris, moons and stars and skies
Are quickly made to match her face and eyes;

And gold and rubies, with as little care,

To fit the colour of her lips and hair:

And mixing suns, and flowers, and pearls, and stones,
Muke 'em serve all complexions at once.

Nor is 't those threads of gold, our hair,
The periwigs you make us wear;
But those bright guineas in our chests,
That light the wildfire in your breasts.
These love-tricks I've been vers'd in so,
That all their sly intrigues I know,
And can unriddle by their tones,

Their mystick cabals, and jargones:

Can tell what passions, by their sounds,
Pine for the beauties of my grounds;
What raptures fond and amorous

O' th' charms and graces of my house;
What extacy, and scorching flame,
Burns for my money, in my name:
What, from th' unnatural desire,
To beasts and cattle, takes its fire;
What tender sigh, and trickling tear,
Longs for a thousand pounds a year;
And languishing transports are fond
Of statute, mortgage, bill and bond.
These are th' attracts which most men fall
Enamour'd, at first sight, withal;

To these th' address with serenades,
And court with balls, and masquerades ;
And yet, for all the yearning pain
Y' have suffer'd for their loves, in vain;

With these fine fancies at hap-hazard writ,
I could make verses without art or wit,
And, shifting fifty times the verb and noun,
With stol'n impertinence patch up my own.

Butler's Remains, vol. 1. (ED.)

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