Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/407

 If you'll redeem the silver cup He keeps in pawn?" — "First, show him up." "Your dressing-plate he'll be content To take, for interest cent per cent. And, madam, there's my lady Spade Has sent this letter by her maid: Well, I remember what she won; And has she sent so soon to dun? Here, carry down those ten pistoles My husband left to pay for coals: I thank my stars, they all are light; And I may have revenge to-night." Now, loitering o'er her tea and cream, She enters on her usual theme; Her last night's ill success repeats, Calls lady Spade a hundred cheats: "She slipt spadillo in her breast, Then thought to turn it to a jest: There's Mrs. Cut and she combine, And to each other give the sign." Through every game pursues her tale, Like hunters o'er their evening ale. Now to another scene give place: Enter the folks with silks and lace: Fresh matter for a world of chat, Right Indian this, right Mechlin that: "Observe this pattern; there's a stuff; I can have customers enough. Dear madam, you are grown so hard — This lace is worth twelve pounds a yard: Madam, if there be truth in man, I never sold so cheap a fan." This business of importance o'er, And madam almost dress'd by four; The