Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/40

 At last comes the troop, by word of command, Drawn up in our court; when the captain cries, "! Your ladyship lifts up the sash to be seen, For sure I had dizen'd you out like a queen. The captain, to show he is proud of the favour, Looks up to your window, and cocks up his beaver; (His beaver is cock'd; pray, madam, mark that, For a captain of horse never takes off his hat, Because he has never a hand that is idle, For the right holds the sword, and the left holds the bridle.) Then flourishes thrice his sword in the air, As a compliment due to a lady so fair; (How I tremble to think of the blood it has spilt!) Then he lowers down the point, and kisses the hilt. Your ladyship smiles, and thus you begin; Pray, captain, be pleas'd to alight and walk in.' The captain salutes you with congée profound, And your ladyship curtsies half way to the ground. Kit, run to your master, and bid him come to us, I'm sure he'll be proud of the honour you do us, And, captain, you'll do us the favour to stay, And take a short dinner here with us to day: You're heartily welcome; but as for good cheer, You come in the very worst time of the year; If I had expected so worthy a guest —' Lord! madam! your ladyship sure is in jest; You banter me, madam; the kingdom must grant —' You officers, captain, are so complaisant!' "Hist,