present
  To learn her secret cause of discontent,
  Which well she hoped might be with ease redress’d,
  Considering her a well-bred civil beast,
  And more a gentlewoman than the rest. 570
  After some common talk what rumours ran,
  The lady of the spotted muff began.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES: 

[Footnote 94:  ‘Hare:’  the Quakers.]

[Footnote 95:  ‘Ape:’  latitudinarians in general.]

[Footnote 96:  ‘Reynard:’  the Arians.]

[Footnote 97:  ‘Bilanders:’  an old word for a coasting boat.]

  [Footnote 98:  ‘First Apostate:’  Arius.]

  [Footnote 99:  ‘Wolf:’  Presbytery.]

  [Footnote 100:  ‘Many a year:’  referring to the price put on the head of
    wolves in Wales.]

  [Footnote 101:  ‘Kennel:’  Geneva.]

  [Footnote 102:  ‘Puddle:’  its lake.]

  [Footnote 103:  ‘Mighty hunter of his race:’  Nimrod.]

  [Footnote 104:  ‘Panther:’  Church of England.]

  [Footnote 105:  ‘Lion:’  Henry VIII.]

  [Footnote 106: 
  ‘Isgrim:’  the wolf.]

  [Footnote 107:  ‘Lion:’  James II.]

PART II.

  Dame, said the Panther, times are mended well,
  Since late among the Philistines[108] you fell. 
  The toils were pitch’d, a spacious tract of ground
  With expert huntsmen was encompass’d round;
  The enclosure narrow’d; the sagacious power 5
  Of hounds and death drew nearer every hour. 
  ’Tis true, the younger Lion[109] ’scaped the snare,
  But all your priestly Calves[110] lay struggling there,
  As sacrifices on their altar laid;
  While you, their careful mother, wisely fled, 10
  Not trusting destiny to save your head;
  For, whate’er promises you have applied
  To your unfailing Church, the surer side
  Is four fair legs in danger to provide. 
  And whate’er tales of Peter’s chair you tell,
  Yet, saving reverence of the miracle,
  The better luck was yours to ’scape so well.

   As I remember, said the sober Hind,
  Those toils were for your own dear self design’d,
  As well as me, and with the self-same throw, 20
  To catch the quarry and the vermin too. 
  (Forgive the slanderous tongues that call’d you so.)
  Howe’er you take it now, the common cry
  Then ran you down for your rank loyalty. 
  Besides, in Popery they thought you nursed,
  As evil tongues will ever speak the worst,
  Because some forms, and ceremonies some
  You kept, and stood in the main question dumb. 
  Dumb you were born indeed; but thinking long
  The Test[111] it seems at last has loosed your tongue. 30