Tothis fair Constance answered not a word,
          Which showed, with him, her sentiments concurred. 
          The spark, no novice in the dumb assent,
          Received her silence fully as ’twas meant;
          The rest involved in myst’ry deep remains;
          Thus Constance was requitted for her pains.

          YeCyprian nymphs to profit turn my tale;
          The god of love, within his vot’ries pale,
          Has many, if their sentiments were known,
          That I’d prefer for Hymen’s joys alone. 
          My wife, not always to the spindle true,
          Will many things in life, not seem to view;
          By Constance and her conduct you may see
          How, with this theory, her acts agree;
          She proved the truth of what I here advance,
          And reaped the fruits produced by complaisance,
          A horde of nuns I know who, ev’ry night,
          Would such adventures wage with fond delight.

          Perhapsit will not be with ease believed,
          That Constance from Camillus now received,
          A proof of love’s enchanting balmy sweet,
          A proof perhaps you’ll think her used to meet;
          But ne’er till then she tasted pleasures pure;
          Her former life no blisses could secure. 
          You ask the cause, and signs of doubt betray: 
          Who truly loves, the same will ever say.

Nicaise

To serve the shop as ’prentice was the lot;
Of one who had the name of Nicaise got;
A lad quite ignorant beyond his trade,
And what arithmetick might lend him aid;
A perfect novice in the wily art,
That in amours is used to win the heart. 
Good tradesmen formerly were late to learn
The tricks that soon in friars we discern;
They ne’er were known those lessons to begin,
Till more than down appeared upon the chin. 
But now-a-days, in practice, ’tis confessed,
These shopkeepers are knowing as the best.

          Ourlad of ancient date was less advanced;
          At scenes of love his eyes had never glanced;
          Be that as ’twill, he now was in the way,
          And naught but want of wit produced delay: 
          A belle indeed had on him set her heart
          His master’s daughter felt love’s poignant smart;
          A girl of most engaging mind and mien,
          And always steady in her conduct seen. 
          Sincerity of soul or humour free,
          Or whether with her taste it might agree,
          A fool ’twas clear presided o’er her soul,
          And all her thoughts and actions felt control. 
          Some bold gallant would p’erhaps inform her plain,
          She ever kept wild Folly in her train,
          And