CANTO V.
101
By Brontin Cover'd, Takes delib'rate Aim,
And at the Warrior darts the Missive Dame.
The tender Auth'ress Softens on his Crown,
And Guiltless of a Wound fell Feebly down.
Ye Miscreant Pair, said Fabri, thus you see
My Front rebates your soft Artillery.
Think ye, that I, who like a Castle stand,
Can fall, the Conquest of a Female Hand?
Judge, if my Arm, with Mean exploits content,
Do's on it's Errand send an Innocent.
Lo! here! A Folio, swol'n with Floods of Gore,
Shall Crown the Carnage of this Bloody Hour!
With this, He Fox's Book of Martyrs chose.
Four ill-joyn'd Boards the Coverture compose,
Burrow'd