Page:Hudibras - Volume 1 (Butler, Nash, Bohn; 1859).djvu/239

CANTO I.] It is all philtres and high diet, That makes love rampant, and to fly out: 'Tis beauty always in the flower, That buds and blossoms at fourscore: 'Tis that by which the sun and moon, At their own weapons are outdone: That makes knights-errant fall in trances, And lay about 'em in romances: 'Tis virtue, wit, and worth, and all That men divine and sacred call: For what is worth in anything, But so much money as 'twill bring? Or what but riches is there known, Which man can solely call his own; In which no creature goes his half, Unless it be to squint and laugh? I do confess, with goods and land, I'd have a wife at second hand; And such you are: nor is't your person My stomach's set so sharp and fierce on; But 'tis your better part, your riches, That my enamour'd heart bewitches: Let me your fortune but possess, And settle. your person how you please; Or make it o'er in trust to the devil, You'll find me reasonable and civil. Quoth she, I like this plainness better Than false mock-passion, speech, or letter, Or any feat of qualm or sowning, But hanging of yourself, or drowning; Your only way with me to break Your mind, is breaking of your neck: