Metin
Censure her free discourse as confidence;
Her silence, want of breeding and good sense.
Discover her blind side, and put her still
Upon the task which she performs but ill;
To dance, if she has neither shape nor air;
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Court her to sing, if she wants voice and ear;
If talking misbecomes her, make her talk;
If walking, then in malice make her walk.
Commend her skill when on the lute she plays,
Till vanity her want of skill betrays.
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Take care, if her large breasts offend your eyes,
No dress does that deformity disguise.
Ply her with merry tales of what you will,
To keep her laughing, if her teeth be ill.
Or if blear-eyed, some tragic story find,
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Till she has read and wept herself quite blind.
But one effectual method you may take,-
Enter her chamber ere she's well awake:
Her beauty's art, gems, gold, and rich attire,
Make up the pageant you so much admire:
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