betray'd Virtue the Noble Cause for which you 're made Improperly we measure Life by Breath Such do not truly Live who merit Death Tho they their wanton Sences nicely please With all the Charms of Luxury and Ease Tho mingled Flow'rs adorn their careless Brow And round 'em costly Sweets neglected flow As if they in their Funeral State were laid And to the World as they 're to Virtue Dead When You the Province you expect obtain From Passion and from Avarice refrain Let our Associates Poverty provoke Thy generous Heart not to encrease their Yoke Since Riches cannot rescue from the â—nave Which claims alike the Monarch and the Slave To what the Laws enjoin submission pay And what the Senate shall Command Obey Think what Rewards upon the Good attend And how those fall unpitied who offend Tutor and Capito may Warnings be Who felt the Thunder of the States Decree For robbing the Cilicians tho they Like lesser Pikes only subsist on Prey But what avails the Rigour of their Doom Which cannot future violence o'recome Nor give the Miserable Province â—ase Since what one Plund'rer left the next will seize Cherippus then in time your self bethink And what your Rags will yield by Auction sink Ne're put your self to Charges to complain Of Wrongs which 〈◊〉 you did sustain Make not a Voyage to detect the Theft 'T is mad to Lavish what their Rapine lest When Rome at first our Rich Allies subdu'd From gentle Taxes Noble Spoils accru'd Each wealthy Province but in part Opprest Thought the Loss trivial and enjoy'd the rest All Treasuries did then with Heaps abound In every Wardrobe costly Silks were found The least Apartment of the meanest House Cou'd all the wealthy Pride of Art produce Pictures which from Parrhasius did receive Motion and warmth and Statues taught to live Some Polyclete's some Myron's Work declar'd In others Phidia's Masterpiece appear'd And crowding Plate did on the Cupboard stand Emboss'd by curious Mentor's artful hand Prizes like these Oppressors might invite These Dolabella's Rapine did excite These Anthony for his own Theft thought fit Verres for these did Sacriledge commit And when their Reigns were ended Ships full Fraught The hidden Fruits of their Exaction brought Which made in Peace a Treasure Richer far Than what is Plunder'd in the Rage of War This was of Old But our Confederates now Have nothing left but Oxen for the Plough Or some few Mares reserv'd alone for Breed Yet lest this provident Design succeed They drive the Father of the Herd away Making both Stallion and his Pasture Prey Their Rapine is so abject and prophane They nor from Trifles nor from Gods refrain But the poor Lares from the Niches seize If they be little images that please Such are the Spoils which now provoke their Theft And are the greatest Nay they 're all that 's left Thus may You Corinth or weak Rhodes oppress Who dare not bravely what they feel redress For how can Fops thy Tyranny controul Smooth Limbs are symptoms of a servile Soul But Trespass not too far on sturdy Spain Sclavonia France thy Gripes from those restrain Who with their sweat Rome's Luxury maintain And send us Plenty while our wanton day Is lavish'd at the Circus or the Play For shou'd you to Extortion be inclin'd Your Cruel Guilt will little Booty find Since gleaning Marius has already seiz'd All that from Sun-burnt Africk can be squees'd But above all Be careful to with-hold Your Tallons from the Wretched and the Bold Tempt not the Brave and Needy to Despair For tho your Violence shou'd leave 'em bare Of Gold and Silver Swords and Darts remain And will Revenge the Wrongs which they sustain The Plundred still have Arms. Think not the Precept I have here laid down A fond uncertain Notion of my own No 't is a Sibyl's Leaf what I relate As fixt and sure as the Decrees of Fate Let none but Men of Honour you attend Chuse him that has most Virtue for your Friend And give no way to any Darling Youth To sell your Favour and pervert the Truth Reclaim your Wife from stroling up and down To all Assizes and through every Town With Claws like Harpies eager for the Prey For which your Justice and your Fame will pay Keep your self free from Scandals such as these Then Trace your Birth from Picus if you please If he 's too Modern and your Pride aspire To seek the Author of your Being higher Chuse any Titan who the Gods withstood To be the Founder of your Ancient blood Prometheus and that Race before the flood Or any other Story you can find From Heralds or in Poets to your mind But shou'd you prove Ambitious Lustful Vain Or cou'd you see with Pleasure and Disdain Rods broke on our Associates bleeding backs And Heads-Men lab'ring till they blunt their Ax Your Father's Glory will your Sin proclaim And to a clearer Light expose your shame For still more publick scandal Vice extends As he is Great and Noble who offends How dare you then your high Extraction plead Yet blush not when you go to forge a Deed In the same Temple which your Grandsire built Making his Statue privy to the Guilt Or in a Bawdy Masquerade are led Muffled by Night to some polluted Bed Fat Lateranus does his Revels keep Where his Fore-Fathers peaceful Ashes sleep Driving himself a Chariot down the Hill And tho a Consul links himself the Wheel To do him Justice 't is indeed by Night Yet the Moon sees and ev'ry smaller light Pries as a Witness of the shameful sight Nay when his Year of Honour 's ended soon He 'll leave that nicety and mount at Noon Nor blush shou'd he some Grave Acquaintance meet But proud of being known will Jerk and Greet And when his Fellow-Beasts are weary grown He 'll play the Groom give Oats and rub 'em down If after Numa's Ceremonial way He at Iove's Altar wou'd a Victim slay To no clean Goddess he directs his Pray'rs But by Hippona most Devoutly Swears Or some rank Deity whose filthy face We suitably o're stinking Stables place When he has run his length and does begin To steer his course directly for the Inn Where they have watch'd expecting him all night A greasie Syrian e're he can alight Presents him Essence while his courteous Host Well knowing nothing by good breeding's lost Tags every Sentence with some fawning word Such as My King My Prince at least My Lord And a tight Maid e're he for Wine can ask Guesses his Meaning and unoils the Flask Some Friends to Vice industriously defend These innocent Diversions and pretend That I the Tricks of Youth too roughly blame Alledging that when young we did the same I grant we did yet when that age was past The frolick Humour did no longer last We did not cherish and indulge the Crime What 's foul in acting shou'd
for the rude Husband's head Unlike the Niceness of our Modern Dames Affected Nymphs with new Affected Names The Cynthia's and the Lesbia's of our Years Who for a Sparrow's Death dissolve in Tears Those first unpolisht Matrons Big and Bold Gave Suck to Infants of Gygantick Mold Rough as their Savage Lords who Rang'd the Wood And Fat with Akorns Belcht their windy Food For when the World was Bucksom fresh and young Her Sons were undebauch'd and therefore strong And whether Born in kindly Beds of Earth Or strugling from the Teeming Oaks to Birth Or from what other Atoms they begun No Sires they had or if a Sire the Sun Some thin Remains of Chastity appear'd Ev'n under Iove but Iove without a Beard Before the servile Greeks had learnt to Swear By Heads of Kings while yet the Bounteous Year Her common Fruits in open Plains expos'd E're Thieves were fear'd or Gardens were enclos'd At length uneasie Justice upwards flew And both the Sisters to the Stars withdrew From that Old Aera Whoring did begin So Ven'rably Ancient is the Sin Adult'rers next invade the Nuptial State And Marriage-Beds creak'd with a Foreign Weight All other Ills did Iron times adorn But Whores and Silver in one Age were Born Yet thou they say for Marriage do'st provide Is this an Age to Buckle with a Bride They say thy Hair the Curling Art is taught The Wedding-Ring perhaps already bought A Sober Man like thee to change his Life What Fury wou'd possess thee with a Wife Art thou of ev'ry other Death bereft No Knife no Ratsbane no kind Halter left For every Noose compar'd to Hers is cheap Is there no City Bridge from whence to leap Would'st thou become her Drudge who dost enjoy A better sort of Bedfellow thy Boy He keeps thee not awake with nightly Brawls Nor with a beg'd Reward thy Pleasure palls Nor with insatiate heavings calls for more When all thy Spirits were drain'd out before But still Vrsidius Courts the Marriage-Bait Longs for a Son to settle his Estate And takes no Gifts tho ev'ry gapeing Heir Wou'd gladly Grease the Rich Old Batchelour What Revolution can appear so strange As such a Leacher such a Life to change A rank notorious Whoremaster to choose To thrust his Neck into the Marriage Noose He who so often in a dreadful fright Had in a Coffer scap'd the jealous Cuckold's sight That he to Wedlock dotingly betrayd Should hope in this lewd Town to find a Maid The Man 's grown Mad To ease his Frantick Pain Run for the Surgeon breathe the middle Vein But let a Heyfer with Gilt Horns be led To Iuno Regent of the Marriage-Bed And let him every Deity adore If his new Bride prove not an arrant Whore In Head and Tail and every other Pore On Ceres feast restrain'd from their delight Few Matrons there but Curse the tedious Night Few whom their Fathers dare Salute such Lust Their Kisses have and come with such a Gust With Ivy now Adorn thy Doors and Wed Such is thy Bride and such thy Genial Bed Think'st thou one Man is for one Woman meant She sooner with one â—ye wou'd be content And yet 't is nois'd a Maid did once appear In some small Village tho Fame says not where 'T is possible but sure no Man she found 'T was desart all about her Father's Ground And yet some Lustful God might there make bold Are Iove and Mars grown impotent and old Many a fair Nymph has in a Cave been spread And much good Love without a Feather-Bed Whither wou'dst thou to chuse a Wiâ—e resort The Park the Mall the Play-house or the Court Which way soever thy Adventures fall Secure alike of Chastity in all One sees a Dancing-Master Capring high And Raves and Pisses with pure Extasie Another does with all his Motions move And Gapes and Grins as in the feat of Love A third is Charm'd with the new Opera Notes Admires the Song but on the Singer Doats The Country Lady in the Box appears Softly She Warbles over all she hears And sucks in Passion both at Eyes and Ears The rest when now the long Vacation's come The noisie Hall and Theatres grown dumb Their Memories to refresh and chear their hearts In borrow'd Breaches act the Players parts The Poor that scarce have wherewithal to eat Will pinch to make the Singing-Boy a Treat The Rich to buy him will refuse no price And stretch his Quail-pipe till they crack his Voice Tragedians acting Love for Lust are sought Tho but the Parrots of a Poet 's Thought The Pleading Lawyer tho for Counsel us'd In Chamber-practice often is refus'd Still thou wilt have a Wife and father Heirs The product of concurring Theatres Perhaps a Fencer did thy Brows adorn And a young Sword-man to thy Lands is born Thus Hippia loath'd her old Patrician Lord And left him for a Brother of the Sword To wondring Pharos with her Love she fled To shew one Monster more than Africk bred Forgetting House and Husband left behind Ev'n Children too she sails before the wind False to 'em all but constant to her Kind But stranger yet and harder to conceive She cou'd the Play-house and the Players leave Born of rich Parentage and nicely bred She lodg'd on Down and in a Damask Bed Yet daring now the Dangers of the Deep On a hard Mattress is content to sleep E're this 't is true she did her Fame expose But that great Ladies with great Ease can lose The tender Nymph cou'd the rude Ocean bear So much her Lust was stronger than her Fear But had some honest Cause her Passage prest The smallest hardship had disturb'd her brest Each Inconvenience makes their Virtue cold But Womankind in Ills is ever bold Were she to follow her own Lord to Sea What doubts and scruples wou'd she raise to stay Her Stomach sick and her head giddy grows The Tar and Pitch are nausâ—ous to her Nose But in Love's Voyage nothing can offend Women are never Sea-sick with a Friend Amidst the Crew she walks upon the boord She eats she drinks she handles every Cord And if she spews 't is thinking of her Lord. Now ask for whom her Friends and Fame she lost What Youth what Beauty cou'd th' Adult'rer boast What was the Face for which she cou'd sustain To be call'd Mistress to so base a Man The Gallant of his days had known the best Deep Scars were seen indented on his breast And all his batter'd Limbs requir'd their needful rest A Promontory Wen with griesly grace Stood high upon the Handle of his Face His blear Eyes ran in gutters to his Chin His Beard was Stubble and his Cheeks were thin But 't was his Fencing did her Fancy move 'T is Arms and Blood and Cruelty they love But shou'd he quit his Trade and sheath his Sword Her Lover wou'd begin to be her Lord. This was a private Crime but you shall hear What Fruits the Sacred
Brows of Monarchs bear The good old Sluggard but began to snore When from his side up rose th' Imperial Whore She who preferr'd the Pleasures of the Night To Pomps that are but impotent delight Strode from the Palace with an eager pace To cope with a more Masculine Embrace Muffl'd she march'd like Iuno in a â—lowd Of all her Train but one poor Weneh allow'd One whom in Secret Service she cou'd trust The Rival and Companion of her Lust. To the known Brothel-house she takes her way And for a nasty Room gives double pay That Room in which the rankest Harlot lay Prepar'd for fight expectingly she lies With heaving Breasts and with desiring Eyes Still as one drops another takes his place And baffled still succeeds to like disgrace At length when friendly darkness is expir'd And every Strumpet from her Cell retir'd She lags behind and lingring at the Gate With a repining Sigh submits to Fate All Filth without and all a Fire within Tir'd with the Toyl unsated with the Sin Old Caesar's Bed the modest Matron seeks The steam of Lamps still hanging on her Cheeks In Ropy Smut thus foul and thus bedight She brings him back the Product of the Night Now should I sing what Poisons they provide With all their Trumpery of Charms beside And all their Arts of Death it would be known Lust is the smallest Sin the Sex can own Caesinia still they say is guiltless found Of every Vice by her own Lord Renown'd And well she may she brought ten thousand Pound She brought him wherewithal to be call'd chaste His Tongue is ty'd in Golden Fetters fast He Sighs Adores and Courts her every Hour Who wou'd not do as much for such a Dower She writes Love-Letters to the Youth in Grace Nay tipâ— the wink before the Cuckold's Face And might do more Her Portion makes it good Wealth has the Priviledge of Widow-hood These Truths with his Example you disprove Who with his Wife is monstrously in Love But know him better for I heard him Swear 'T is not that She 's his Wife but that She 's Fair. Let her but have three Wrinkles in her Face Let her Eyes Lessen and her Skin unbrace Soon you will hear the Saucy Steward say Pack up with all your Trinkets and away You grow Offensive both at Bed and Board Your Betters must be had to please my Lord. Mean time She 's absolute upon the Throne And knowing time is Precious loses none She must have Flocks of Sheep with Wool more Fine Than Silk and Vinyards of the Noblest Wine Whole Droves of Pages for her Train she Craves And sweeps the Prisons for attending Slaves In short whatever in her Eyes can come Or others have abroad she wants at home When Winter shuts the Seas and fleecy Snows Make Houses white she to the Merchant goes Rich Crystals of the Rock She takes up there Huge Agat Vases and old China Ware Then Beâ—enice's Ring her Finger proves More Precious made by her incestuous Loves And infamously Dear A Brother's Bribe Ev'n Gods Annointed and of Iudah's Tribe Where barefoot they approach the Sacred Shrine And think it only Sin to Feed on Swine But is none worthy to be made a Wife In all this Town Suppose her free from strife Rich Fair and Fruitful of Unblemish'd Life Chast as the Sabines whose prevailing Charms Dismiss'd their Husbands and their Brothers Arms. Grant her besides of Noble Blood that ran In Ancient Veins e're Heraldry began Suppose all these and take a Poet's word A Black Swan is not half so Rare a Bird. A Wife so hung with Virtues such a freight What Mortal Shoulders cou'd support the weight Some Country Girl scarce to a Curtsey bred Wou'd I much rather than Cornelia Wed If Supercilious Haughty Proud and Vain She brought her Father's Triumphs in her Train Away with all your Carthaginian State Let vanquish'd Hannibal without Doors wait Too burly and too big to pass my narrow Gate Oh Paean cries Amphion bend thy Bow Against my Wife and let my Children go But sullen Paean shoots at Sons and Mothers too His Niobe and all his Boys he lost Ev'n her who did her num'rous Offspring boast As Fair and Fruitful as the Sow that carry'd The Thirty Pigs at one large Litter Farrow'd What Beauty or what Chastisty can bear So great a Price if stately and severe She still insults and you must still adore Grant that the Hony's much the â—all is more Upbraided with the Virtues she displays Sev'n Hours in Twelve you loath the Wife you Praise Some Faults tho small intolerable grow For what so Nauâ—eous and Affected too As those that think they due Perfection want Who have not learnt to Lisp the Greciâ—n Cant In Greece their whole Accomplishments they seek Their Fashion Breeding Language must be Greek But Raw in all that does to Rome belong They scorn to cultivate their Mother Tongue In Greek they flatter all their Fears they speak Tell all their Secrets nay they Scold in Greek Ev'n in the Feat of Love they use that Tongue Such Affectations may become the Young But thou Old Hag of Threescore Years and Three Is shewing of thy Parts in Greek for thee 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 All those tender words The Momentary trembling Bliss affords The kind soft Murmurs of the private Sheets Are Bawdy while thou speak'st in publick Streets Those words have Fingers and their force is such They raise the Dead and mount him with a touch But all Provocatives from thee are vain No blandishment the slacken'd Nerve can strain If then thy Lawful Spouse thou canst not love What reason shou'd thy Mind to Marriage move Why all the Charges of the Nuptial Feast Wine and Deserts and Sweet-meats to digest Th' indoweing Gold that buys the dear Delight Giv'n for thy first and only happy Night If thou art thus Uxoriously inclin'd To bear thy Bondage with a willing mind Prepare thy Neck and put it in the Yoke But for no mercy from thy Woman look For tho perhaps she loves with equal Fires To Absolute Dominion she aspires Joys in the Spoils and Triumphs o'er thy Purse The better Husband makes the Wife the worse Nothing is thine to give or fell or buy All Offices of Ancient Friendship dye Nor hast thou leave to make a Legacy By thy Imperious Wife thou art bereâ—t A Priviledge to Pimps and Panders left Thy Testament's her Will Where she prefers Her Ruffians Drudges and Adultere's Adopting all thy Rivals for thy Heirs Go drag that Slave to Death your Reason why Shou'd the poor Innocent be doom'd to Dye What proofs for when Man's Life is in debate The Judge can ne're too long deliberate Call'st thou that Slave a Man the Wife replies Prov'd or unprov'd the Crime the Villian Dies I have the Soveraign Pow'r to save or kill And give no other Reason but my Will Thus the She-Tyrant Reigns till pleas'd