Did not a long acquaintance plead excuse ;
Besides, she likes no witt, thats now in use, 70
Dispises Courtly Vice, and plainly sais,
That sence and Nature shou'd be found in Plays,
And therefore, none will 'ere be brought to see
But those of Dryden, Etheridge, or Lee,
And some few Authors, old, and dull to me.
To her I did engage my coach and day,
And here must wait, while she within does pray.
Ere twelve was struck, she calls me from my bed,
Nor once observes how well my toilett's spread;
Then, drinks the fragrant tea contented up, 80
Without a complement upon the cup,
Tho' to the ships, for the first choice I stear'd,
Through such a storm, as the stout bargemen fear'd ;
Least that a praise, which I have long engross' d
Of the best china Equipage, be lost.
Of fashions now, and colours I discours'd,
Detected shops that wou'd expose the worst,
What silks, what lace, what rubans she must have,
And by my own, an ample pattern gave ;
To which, she cold, and unconcern' d reply'd, 90
I deal with one that does all these provide,
Hauing of other cares, enough beside ;
And in a cheap, or an ill chosen gown,
Can vallue blood that's nobler then my own,
And therefore hope, my self not to be weigh'd
By gold, or silver, on my garments laid;
Or that my witt, or judgment shou'd be read
In an uncomon colour on my head.
Stupid ! and dull, the shrugging Zany crys ;
When, service ended, me he moving spy's, 100
Hastes to conduct me out, and in my ear
Drops some vile praise, too low for her to hear;
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Countess of Winchilsea
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