Page:Hudibras - Volume 1 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/190

112 That sword, which has so oft this day Through squadrons of my foes made way, And some to other worlds dispatch'd, Now with a feeble spinster match'd, Will blush with blood ignoble stain'd, By which no honour's to be gain'd. But if thou'lt take m' advice in this, Consider, while thou may'st, what 'tis To interrupt a victor's course, B' opposing such a trivial force. Tor if with conquest I come off. And that I shall do sure enough, Quarter thou canst not have, nor grace, By law of arms, in such a case; Both which I now do offer freely. I scorn, quoth she, thou coxcomb silly, Clapping her hand upon her breech, To show how much she priz'd his speech, Quarter or counsel from a foe: If thou canst force me to it, do. But lest it should again be said, When I have once more won thy head, I took thee napping, unprepar'd, Arm, and betake thee to thy guard. This said, she to her tackle fell, And on the Knight let fall a peal Of blows so fierce, and prest so home, That he retir'd, and follow'd 's bum. Stand to't, quoth she, or yield to mercy, It is not fighting arsie-versie