Death, in stopping my breath
⁠Was unfair, you'll agree,
Since I ne'er thought of Death
⁠Why should he think of me?

I own I hardly like it, though
Such clouds of smoke you see me blow;
In fact I should not care for it a bit,
But that my husband has forbidden it:
Therefore my smoking is incessant,
To aggravate him—not because it's pleasant.

Women alone true tempters are to man,
The devil cannot tempt as women can.

You wish to make a good round fortune? Well,
⁠Here's a receipt will bring you in much pelf—
Buy Gilbert at his proper value: sell
⁠Him at the rate he estimates himself.