No wonder that Hippodamia's charms,At such a sight, the Centaurs urg'd to arms:That in a rage, they threw their cups aside,Assail'd the bridegroom, and would force the bride.I am not half a horse, (I would I were :)Yet hardly can from you my hands forbear.Take, then, my counsel; which observ'd, may be,Of some importance both to you and me.Be sure to come before your man be there,There's nothing can be done, but come howe'er.Sit next him, (that belongs to decency;)But tread upon my foot in passing by.Read in my looks what silently they speak,And slily, with your eyes, your answer make.My lifted eye-brow shall declare my pain,My right hand to his fellow shall complain;And on the back a letter shall design,Beside a note that shall be writ in wine.Whene'er you think upon our last embrace,With your fore-finger gently touch your face.