You do the very same; in truth, my friend,
          No mark of folly ’tis, you may depend,
          In lord or squire, or citizen or clown,
          To change the bread that’s white for bit of brown: 
          With more experience, you’ll with me agree,—­
          My motto ever is—­variety.

          Whenthus the master had himself expressed,
          The valet presently was less distressed;
          Some arguments, howe’er, at first he used;
          For, after all—­are fully we excused,
          When we our pleasure solely have in view;
          Without regarding what’s to others due? 
          I relish change; well, take it; but ’tis best,
          To gain the belles with love of gold possessed;
          And that appears to me the proper plan;
          In truth, our lover very soon began
          To practise this advice;—­his voice and way
          Could angel-sweetness instantly convey.

          Hiswords were always gilt; (impressive tongue!)
          To gilded words will sure success belong. 
          In soft amours they’re ev’ry thing ’tis plain
          The maxim ’s certain, and our aim will gain;
          My meaning doubtless easily is seen;
          A hundred times repeated this has been
          Th’ impression should be made so very deep,
          That I thereon can never silence keep;
          And this the constant burden of my song-
          To gilded words will sure success belong.

          Theyeasily persuade the beauteous dame;
          Her dog, her maid, duenna, all the same;
          The husband sometimes too, and him we’ve shown
          ’Twas necessary here to gain alone;
          By golden eloquence his soul was lulled;
          Although from ancient orators not culled: 
          Their books retained have nothing of the kind;
          Our jealous spouse indulgent grew we find. 
          He followed e’en, ’tis said, the other’s plan—­
          And, thence his dishes to exchange began.

          Themaster and his fav’rite’s freaks around;
          Continually the table-talk were found;
          He always thought the newest face the best: 
          Where’er he could, each beauty he caressed;
          The wife, the widow, daughter, servant-maid,
          The nymph of field or town:—­with all he played;
          And, while he breathed, the same would always be;
          His motto ever was—­variety.

The magnificent

          Somewit, handsome form and gen’rous mind;
          A triple engine prove in love we find;
          By these the strongest fortresses are gained
          E’en rocks ’gainst such can never be sustained. 
          If you’ve some talents, with a pleasing face,