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XV.
But the barber perſiſted (ah, could I relate ’em!)
To ply her with compliments ſoft as pomatum:
And took ev’ry occaſion to flatter and praiſe her.
Till ſhe fancied his wit was as keen as his razor.
XVI.
He proteſted beſides, if ſhe’d grant his petition,
She ſhould live like a lady of rank and condition:
And to Billingſgate market no longer repair,
But himſelf all her bus’neſs would do to a hair.
XVII.
Her ſmiles, he aſſerted, would melt even rocks,
Nay, the fire of her eyes would conſume barbers’ blocks,
On infenfible objects beftow animation,
And give to old perriwigs regeneration.
XVIII.
With fair ſpeeches cajol’d, as you’d tickle a trout,
'Gainſt the barber the fiſh-wife no more could hold out;
He applied the right bait,and with flattery he caught her;
Without flattery a female’s a fiſh out of water.
XIX.
The ſtate of her heart when the barber once gueſs’d,
Love’s ſiege with redoubled exertion be preſs’d;
And as briſkly beſtirr’d him, the charmer embracing,
As the waſh-ball that dances and froths in his baſon.
