Reply to Some Verses of J.M.B. Pigot, Esq. On the Cruelty of His Mistress
1
Why PIGOT, complain,
Of this damsel’s disdain,
Why thus in despair, do you fret?
For months you may try,
But believe me a sigh,
Will never obtain a coquette.
2
Would you teach her to love,
For a time seem to rove,
At first she may frown in a pet;
But leave her awhile,
She shortly will smile,
And then you may kiss your coquette.
3
For such are the airs,
Of these fanciful fairs,
They think all our homage a debt;
But a partial neglect,
Soon takes an effect,
And humbles the proudest coquette.
4
Dissemble your pain,
And lengthen your chain,
Nor seem her hauteur to regret,
If again you shall sigh,
She no more will deny,
That yours is the rosy coquette.
5
But if from false pride,
Your pangs she deride,
This whimsical virgin forget;
Some other admire,
Who will melt with your fire,
And laugh at the little coquette.
6
For me, I adore,
Some twenty or more,
And love them most dearly, but yet,
Though my heart they enthral,
I’d abandon them all,
Did they act like your blooming coquette.
7
No longer repine,
But form this design,
And break through her slight woven net;
Away with despair,
No longer forbear,
To fly from the captious coquette.
8
Then quit her, my friend!
Your bosom defend,
Ere quite with her snares you’re beset;
Lest your deep wounded heart
When incens’d by the smart,
Should lead you to curse the coquette.
BYRON, October 27, 1806.