The Whores and Bawds Answer to the Fifteen Comforts of Whoring | Page 4

indeed, would be poor I,?N'er Maiden-heads upon my Hands should lie,?Which till I lose, I'm sure my watry Eyes?Will pay to Love so great a Sacrifice,?That my Carcass soon will weep out all its Juice,?Till grown so dry, as fit for no Man's use.
_The Ninth Plague._
By all the pleasant Postures of Delight,?By all the Twines and Circles of the Night,?By the first Minute of those Nuptial Joys,?When Men put fairly for a Brace of Boys,?Dying a Virgin once I more do dread,?Than ten times losing of a _Maiden head_;?For tho' it can't be seen nor understood,?Yet is it troublesome to Flesh and Blood.
_The Tenth Plague._
You heedless Maids, whose young and tender Hearts Unwounded yet, have scop'd the fatal Darts;?Let the sad Fate of a poor Virgin move,?And learn by me to pay Respect to Love.?If one can find a Man fit for Love's Game,?To lose one's Maiden-head it is no Shame:?'Tis no Offence, if from his tender Lip?I snatch a tonguing Kiss; if my fond Clip?With loose Embraces oft his Neck surround,?For Love in Debts of Nature's ever bound.
_The Eleventh Plague._
A _Maiden head_! Pish, in it's no Delight,?Nor have I Ease, but when returning Night,?With Sleep's soft gentle Spell my Senses charms,?Then Fancy some Gallant brings to my Arms:?In them I oft the lov'd Shadow seem?To grasp, and Joys, yet blush I too in Dream.?I wake, and long my Heart in Wonder lies,?To think on my late pleasing Extasies:?But when I'm waking, and don't yet possess,?In Sleep again I wish to enjoy the Bliss:?For Sleep do's no malicious Spies admit,?Yet yields a lively Semblance of Delight.?Gods! what a Scene of Joy was that! how fast?I clasp'd the Vision to my panting Breast??With what fierce Bounds I sprung to meet the Bliss, While my wrapt Soul flew out in ev'ry Kiss!?Till breathless, faint, and softly sunk away,?I all dissolv'd in reaking Pleasures lay.
_The Twelfth Plague._
Happen what will, I'll make some Lovers know?What Pains, what raging Pains I undergo,?Till I am really Heart-sick, almost Dead,?By keeping that damn'd thing a Maiden-head.?Which makes me with Green Sickness almost lost,?So pale, so wan, and looking like a Ghost,?Eating Chalk, Cindars, or Tobacco-Pipes,?Which with a Looseness scowers all my Tripes;?But e'er I'll longer this great Pain endure,?The Stews I'll search, but that I'll find a Cure.
_The Thirteenth Plague._
Let doating Age debate of _Law_ and _Right_,?And gravely state the Bounds of Just and Fit;?Whose Wisdom's but their Envy, to destroy?And bar those Pleasures which they can't enjoy.?My blooming Years, more sprightly and more gay,?By Nature were design'd for Love and Play:?Youth knows no Check, but leaps weak Virtue's Fence, And briskly hunts the noble Chace of Sense!?Without dull thinking I'll Enjoyment trace,?And call that lawful whatsoe'er do's please.?Nor will my Crime want Instances alone,?'Tis what the Glorious Gods above have done;?For _Saturn_, and his greater Off-spring _Jove_,?Both stock'd their Heaven with Incestuous Love.
_The Fourteenth Plague._
If any Man do's with my Bubbies play,?Squeeze my small Hand, as soft as Wax or Clay,?Or lays his Hands upon my tender Knees,?What strange tumultuous Joys upon me seize!?My Breasts do heave, and languish do my Eyes,?Panting's my Heart, and trembling are my Thighs;?I sigh, I wish, I pray, and seem to die,?In one continu'd Fit of Ecstacy;?Thus by my Looks may Man know what I mean,?And how he easily may get between?Those Quarters, where he may surprize a Fort,?In which an Emperor may find such Sport,?That with a mighty Gust of Love's Alarms,?He'd lie dissolving in my circling Arms;?But 'tis my Fate to have to do with Fools,?Who're very loth and shy to use their Tools,?To ease a poor, and fond distressed Maid,?Of that same Load, of which I'm not afrad?To lose with any Man, tho' I should die,?For any Tooth (good Barber) is my Cry.
_The Fifteenth Plague._
Alas! I care not, Sir, what Force you'd use,?So I my Maiden-head could quickly lose:?Oft do I wish one skill'd in _Cupid_'s Arts,?Would quickly dive into my secret Parts;?For as I am, at Home all sorts of Weather,?I kit,----as Heaven and Earth would come together, Twirling a Wheel, I sit at home, hum drum,?And spit away my Nature on my Thumb;?Whilst those that Marry'd are, invited be?To Labours, Christnings, where the Jollitry?Of Women lies in telling, as some say,?When 'twas they did at Hoity-Toity play;?Whose Husband's Yard is longest, whilst another?Can't in the least her great Misfortune smother,?So tells, her Husband's Bauble is so short,?That when he Hunts, he never shews her Sport.?Now I, because I have my Maiden-head,?Mayn't know the Pastimes of the Nuptial Bed;?But mayn't I quickly do as Marry'd People may,?I'll either kill my self, or shortly run away.
_FINIS._

_The_ Maids _Vindication:_
OR, THE
Fifteen Comforts of living a Single Life.
Being an _ANSWER_ to