But if the rougher sex by this red sport
Are hurry'd wild, let not such horrid joy
E'er stain the bosom of the
Far be the spirit of the chace from them!
Uncomely courage, unbeseeming skill,
To spring the fence, to rein the prancing steed,
The cap, the whip, the masculine attire,
In which they roughen to the sense, and all
The winning softness of their sex is lost.