’Good-morrow, good captain’—­’I’ll wait on you down’—­
’You shan’t stir a foot’—­’You’ll think me a clown.’—­
’For all the world, captain, not half an inch farther’—­
’You must be obey’d—­Your servant, Sir Arthur! 
My humble respects to my lady unknown.’—­
‘I hope you will use my house as your own.’”
  “Go bring me my smock, and leave off your prate,
Thou hast certainly gotten a cup in thy pate.” 
  “Pray, madam, be quiet:  what was it I said? 
You had like to have put it quite out of my head. 
Next day to be sure, the captain will come,
At the head of his troop, with trumpet and drum. 
Now, madam, observe how he marches in state: 
The man with the kettle-drum enters the gate: 
Dub, dub, adub, dub.  The trumpeters follow. 
Tantara, tantara; while all the boys holla. 
See now comes the captain all daub’d with gold lace: 
O la! the sweet gentleman! look in his face;
And see how he rides like a lord of the land,
With the fine flaming sword that he holds in his hand;
And his horse, the dear creter, it prances and rears;
With ribbons in knots at its tail and its ears: 
At last comes the troop, by word of command,
Drawn up in our court; when the captain cries, STAND! 
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 pleased to alight and walk in.’ 
The captain salutes you with congee profound,
And your ladyship curtseys 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, hussey, I think I hear somebody coming “—­
“No madam:  ’tis only Sir Arthur a-humming. 
To shorten my tale, (for I hate a long story,)
The captain at dinner appears in his glory;
The dean and the doctor[8] have humbled their pride,
For the captain’s entreated to sit by your side;
And, because he’s their betters, you carve for him first;
The parsons for envy are ready to burst.