No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.

Variety's the source of joy below, From whence still fresh-revolving pleasures flow, In books and love the mind one end pursues, And only change the expiring flames renews.

What frenzy dictates, jealousy believes

Is there no hope? the sick man said, The silent doctor shook his head, And took his leave with signs of sorrow, Despairing of his fee to-morrow.

Can you support the expense of a husband, hussy, in gaming, drinking and whoring? Have you money enough to carry on the daily quarrels of man and wife about who shall squander most?

Praising all alike, is praising none.

Here Shock, the pride of all his kind, is laid, Who fawned like man, but ne'er like man betrayed.