Thus far, then, I hope we are upon a par; for the Lord, you see, will fit either of us.
As to the latter Charge, the _Whore_, there indeed, I doubt you will have the better of me; for I must own, that I believe I know more of _your_ whoring than you do of _mine_; because I don't recollect that ever I made you the least Confidence of _my_ Amours, though I have been very near an Eye-Witness of _Yours_----By the way, gentle Reader, don't you think, to say only, _a Man has his Whore_, without some particular Circumstances to aggravate the Vice, is the flattest Piece of Satyr that ever fell from the formidable Pen of Mr. _Pope_? because (_defendit numerus_) take the first ten thousand Men you meet, and I believe, you would be no Loser, if you betted ten to one that every single Sinner of them, one with another, had been guilty of the same Frailty. But as Mr. _Pope_ has so particularly picked me out of the Number to make an Example of: Why may I not take the same Liberty, and even single him out for another to keep me in Countenance? He must excuse me, then, if in what I am going to relate, I am reduced to make bold with a little private Conversation: But as he has shewn no Mercy to _Colley_, why should so unprovok'd an Aggressor expect any for himself? And if Truth hurts him, I can't help it. He may remember, then (or if he won't I will) when _Button_'s Coffee-house was in vogue, and so long ago, as when he had not translated above two or three Books of _Homer_; there was a late young Nobleman (as much his _Lord_ as mine) who had a good deal of wicked Humour, and who, though he was fond of having Wits in his Company, was not so restrained by his Conscience, but that he lov'd to laugh at any merry Mischief he could do them: This noble Wag, I say, in his usual _Gayetè de Coeur_, with another Gentleman still in Being, one Evening slily seduced the celebrated Mr. _Pope_ as a Wit, and myself as a Laugher, to a certain House of Carnal Recreation, near the _Hay-Market_; where his Lordship's Frolick propos'd was to slip his little _Homer_, as he call'd him, at a Girl of the Game, that he might see what sort of Figure a Man of his Size, Sobriety, and Vigour (in Verse) would make, when the frail Fit of Love had got into him; in which he so far succeeded, that the smirking Damsel, who serv'd us with Tea, happen'd to have Charms sufficient to tempt the little-tiny Manhood of Mr. _Pope_ into the next Room with her: at which you may imagine, his Lordship was in as much Joy, at what might happen within, as our small Friend could probably be in Possession of it: But I (forgive me all ye mortified Mortals whom his fell Satyr has since fallen upon) observing he had staid as long as without hazard of his Health he might, I,