. . You cannot, sure, demean yourself with
such a poor body as I . . . Lord! Sir, my mistress may come
home . . . I must not indeed . . . I will cry out . . ."
All of which did not hinder her from insensibly suffering
herself to be brought to the foot of the couch, upon which
a push of no mighty violence serv'd to give her a very easy
fall, and my gentleman having got up his hands to the
strong-hold of her VIRTUE, she, no doubt, thought it was
time to give up the argument, and that all further de-
fense would be in vain: and he, throwing her petticoats over
her face, which was now as red as scarlet, discover'd a pair
of stout, plump, substantial thighs, and tolerably white; he
mounted them round his hips, and coming out with his drawn
weapon, stuck it in the cloven spot, where he seem'd to find
a less difficult entrance than perhaps he had flatter'd him-
self with (for, by the way, this blouze had left her place
in the country, for a bastard), and, indeed, all his motions
shew'd he was lodg'd pretty much at large. After he had
done, his DEAREE gets up, drops her petticoats down, and
smooths her apron and handkerchief. Mr. H . . . look'd a
little silly, and taking out some money, gave it her, with
an air indifferent enough, bidding her be a good girl, and
say nothing.
Had I lov'd this man, it was not in nature for me to
have had patience to see the whole scene through: I should
have broke in and play'd the jealous princess with a ven-
geance.
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