The Whores and Bawds Answer to the Fifteen Comforts of Whoring | Page 7

Rhimes;
But that such Naus'ous Lines can reach no higher
Than
what the Cod-Piece or Buffoons inspire.
To noble Satyr, I'll direct my Aim,
And bite Mankind, and Poetry
Reclaim;
I'll ever use my Wit another Way,
And next the Ugliness
of Vice display.
_Yours, &c._
THE
FIFTEEN P----s
OF A
VIRGIN.
_The first P----._
In these unhappy and more wretched Days,
Eclipsed with
Debauchery and Plays!
Virgins can scarce stir out, but some dull Fop,

Impertinently kind, her way will stop,
And almost force Her to

some House of Sin,
Her Innocence and Virtue to draw in;
And if he
can her Modesty invade,
Glad with her Spoils and Trophies of a Maid,

The Villain is the first that will complain
Her foul Dishonour, and
polluted Shame.
_The Second P----._
A Maid dispos'd to take the gentle Air,
And to _Grays-Inn_, or
_Temple-Walks_ repair;
No sooner enters she the Garden Gate,
Sits
down, and thinks of going e're 'tis late,
But some insipid Squire
having spy'd her,
Takes Heart of Steel, and boldly squats beside her.
He thus accosts her,--Madam, _Ah! by Gad
You're wond'rous Fair;
but Lady, why so sad?_
Her Innocence he thinks will soon submit,

To all the swagg'ring Tyrants of his Wit;
But being strictly taught in
Vertue's School,
She does not only slight the prating Fool,

Contemn'd his Actions, and his feigned Tone,
But leaves the Lawyer
strait to Curse alone.
_The Third P----._
The Maid that's Blessed with a beauteos Face,
A gentile Air, and as
genteel a Grace;
On her some am'rous Beau soon casts his Eyes,

And to obtain the much admired Prize;
He fashionably dresses, struts,
looks big,
Like _John_ of _Gaunt_, and in a pond'rous Wig;
A
subtle, sly, and cunning Ambuscade,
For her Virginity is quickly laid;

Of Love he tells a Thousand Fictious Tales,
Till over her
Discretion Lust prevails,
But modest Maids, whose young and tender
Hearts
Unwounded yet, have the scap'd fatal Darts;
Let the sad
Fates of wanton Strumpets move,
And learn by them to shun
unlawful Love:
Thus Virgins, if you'll Modesty embrace,
By
making all Allurements give you place:
Virtue a Sanctuary e'er shall
be
Against the Quivers of Iniquity.
_The Fourth P----._

A Maid of honest, but mean Parents Born,
These Times is only made
the rich Man's scorn,
Howe'er her Beauty tempting some young Spark

He takes her to the Playhouse and the Park,
Where he with many
Imprecations vows,
His Fortune and his Life to her he owes;
But
finding his Temptations are in vain,
Her Company in Wrath he do's
refrain;
Which at the first may touch her tender Heart,
And make
her feel the force of _Cupid_'s Dart;
But Time and Absence Having
made a Cure
Of that same Plague she could not first endure.
She
says, as now I'm well, recite not then
The Falshood and Deceit of
Perjur'd Men,
Virtue retain'd, that Man I'll ever slight,
Whom I
cannot by Marriage claim my Right.
_The Fifth P----, in a Dialogue betwixt_
Cloris
_and_ Parthenisea.
_Clo._ Why dost thou all Address deny?
Hard-hearted _Parthenisea_,
why?
See how the trembling Lovers come,
That from thy Lips
expect their Doom.
_Par._ _Cloris!_ I hate them all, they know,
Nay I have often told
them so;
Their silly Politicks abhorr'd:
I scorn to make my Slave
my Lord.
_Clo._ But _Strephon_'s Eyes proclaim His Love
Too brave,
Tyrannical to prove.
_Par._ Ah _Cloris!_ when we lost our Power?
We must obey the
Conqueror.
_Clo._ Yet when a gentle Prince bears sway,
It is no Bondage to
Obey.
_Par._ But if like _Nero_, for a while,
With Arts of Kindness he
beguile,
How shall the Tyrant be withstood,
When he has writ his
Laws in Blood?

_Clo._ Love (_Parthenisea_) all commands,
it fetters Kings in
charming Bands;
_Mars_ yields his Arms to _Cupid_'s Darts,
And
Beauty softens Savage Hearts.
_Par._ Well may you choose to be a Wife,
I'll still retain a Single
Life.
_The Sixth P----._
Rid of a Coxcomb, next a Siege is laid
Against the weak Repulses of
a Maid,
By one that keeps a Coach and Lackies too,
And that he
might his wicked Plots pursue,
In gawdy Dress he would her Heart
surprize,
with Gold to dazle her too watchful Eyes;
But Vertue
cherishing her Virtuous Breast,
With so much Innocence which made
her blest,
Her Innocence as hitherto ne'er knew
What Mischief
_Venus_ or her Son cou'd do,
_The Seventh P----._
Where blindfold Fortune has been pleas'd to place A Virgen with a
Master void of Grace,
With Foot, with Hand, or Eyes, he'll Tokens
speak, The Signs deny, these Assignations make;
Thinks she shall be
as pliant to his Use,
As Strumpets on a _Cornival_ let loose;
But if
she's Chast, his Miss she will not be,
Unless she is as Fiend, and Base
as he.
_The Eighth P----._
_A_ Negro _Courting onto a maid,
That was most Fair; to him she
said,
Thy Ink, my Papper, make me guess,
Our Nuptial Bed will
make a Press,
And to our Sports, if any came
They'll read a Wanton
Epigram,_
_The