Before the fervile Greeks had learnt to swear

By Heads of Kings; while yet the bounteous Year
Her common Fruits in open Plains expos'd,

Ere Thieves were fear'd, or Gardens were enclos❜d.
At length 4 uneafy Juftice upwards flew,
And both the Sifters to the Stars withdrew;
From that old Era Whoring did begin,
So venerably 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 fay, for Marriage doft provide:.
Is this an Age to Buckle with a Bride?
They fay thy Hair the Curling Art is taught,
The Wedding-Ring perhaps already bought:
A fober Man like thee to change his Life!
What Fury wou'd poffefs thee with a Wife?
Art thou of every other Death bereft,
No Knife, no Ratsbane, no kind Halter left?
(For ev'ry Noofe compar'd to hers is cheap)
Is there no City Bridge from whence to leap?
Would'st thou become her Drudge, who doft enjoy
A better fort of Bedfellow, thy Boy?

He keeps thee not awake with nightly Brawls,
Nor with a begg'd Reward thy pleasure palls;
Nor with infatiate Heavings calls for more,
When all thy Spirits were drain'd out before.
But ftill Urfidius courts the Marriage-Bait,
Longs for a Son to fettle his Estate,
And takes no Gifts, tho' ev'ry raping Heir
Would gladly grease the rich old Batchelor.
Father into Banishment, the
Silver Agebégan, according to

the Poets.

The Poet makes Justice

and Chastity Sifters; and says, that they fled to Heaven together, and left Earth for ever.

What

What Revolution can appear fo frange,
As fuch a Leacher, fuch a Life to change?
A rank, notorious Whoremafter, to choose
To thruft his Neck into the Marriage Noofe?
He who so often in a dreadful fright

Had in a Coffer 'fcap'd the jealous Cuckold's fight,
That he to Wedlock dotingly betray'd,

Should hope, in this lewd Town, to find a Maid!
The Man's grown mad: To case his frantick Pain,
Run for the Surgeon; breath the middle Vein:
But let a Heifer with gilt Horns be led
To Juno, Regent of the Marriage-Bed,
And let him ev'ry Deity adore,

If his new Bride prove not an arrant Whore
In Head and Tail, and ev'ry other Pore.
Ons Ceres' Feast, reftrain'd from their Delight,
Few Matrons there, but curfe the tedious Night ::
Few whom their Fathers dare falute, fuch Luft
Their Kiffes have, and come with fuch a Gust.
With Ivy now adorn thy Doors, and Wed;
Such is thy Bride, and fuch thy genial Bed.
Think'ft thou one Man is for one Woman meant ?
She, fooner with one Eye wou'd be content.
And yet, 'tis nois'd, a Maid did once appear
In some small Village, tho' Fame fays not where:
'Tis poffible; but fure no Man fhe found;
'Twas defart, all, about her Father's Ground:
And yet some luftful God might there make bold;
Are Fove and Mars grown impotent and old?
Many a fair Nymph has in a Cave been spread,
And much good Love, without a Feather Bed.

S Ceres' Feaft. When the more fornicating Stories are Roman Women were forbidden told than any of the other to bed with their Husbands. Gods.

6 Jove and Mars. Of whom

M

Whither

Whither woud'ft thou to chufe a Wife refort,

The Park, the Mall, the Play-house, or the Court?
Which way foever thy Adventures fall,
Secure alike of Chastity in all.

One fees a Dancing- Mafter cap'ring high,
And Raves, and Piffes, with pure Ecftafie:
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 dotes:
The Country Lady in the Box appears,
Softly the warbles over all the hears;
And fucks in Paffion, both at Eyes and Ears.
The reft, (when now the long Vacation's come,
The noify Hall and Theatres grown dumb)
Their Mem'ries to refresh, and chear their Hearts,
In borrow'd Breeches act the Players Parts.
The poor, that fcarce have wherewithal to cat,
Will pinch, to make the Singing Boy a Treat.
The Rich, to buy him, will refufe no Price;
And stretch his Quail-pipe till they crack his Voice.
Tragedians, acting Love, for Luft are fought:
(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 7 Pharos with her Love she fled,
To fhew one Monster more than Africk bred:

}

7 She fied to Egypt; which wonder'd at the Enormity of her Crime.

Forgetting

Forgetting House and Husband, left behind,
Ev'n Children too; the fails before the Wind;
Falfe to 'em all, but conftant to her Kind.
But, ftranger 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 Dimask Bed;
Yet daring now the Dangers of the Deep,
On a hard Mattress is content to sleep.

Ere this, 'tis true, fhe did her Fame expofe :
But that, great Ladies with great Ease can lofe.
The tender Nymph cou'd the rude Ocean bear:
So much her Luft was stronger than her Fear.
But had fome honeft Cause her Paffage preft,
The smallest Hardthip had disturb'd her Breast:
Each Inconvenience makes their Virtue cold:
But Womankind, in Ills, is ever bold.
Were fhe to follow her own Lord to Sea,
What Doubts and Scruples wou'd fhe raise to stay?
Her Stomach fick, and her Head giddy grows;
The Tar and Pitch are naufeous to her Nofe.
But in Love's Voyage nothing can offend;
Women are never Sea-fick with a Friend.
Amidst the Crew, fhe walks upon the Board;
She eats, fhe drinks, fhe handles every Cord:
And, if the fpews, 'tis 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 fhe cou'd fuftain.
To be call'd Mistress to fo base a Man?

The Gallant, of his Days had known the best:
Deep Scars were feen indented on his Breast;
And all his batter'd Limbs requir'd their needful Reft.
A Promontory Wen, with griefly Grace,
Stood high, upon the Handle of his Face:

}

w

}

His

His b'ear Eyes ran in Gutters to his Chin:

His Beard was Stabble, and his Cheeks were thin,
But 'twas his Fencing did her Faney move :
'Tis Arms and Blood and Cruelty they love.
But fhou'd he quit his Trade, and fheath 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 friore,
When from his fide up rofe 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 mafculine Embrace:
Muffled the march'd, like Juno in a Cloud,
Of all her Train but one poor Wench allow'd,
One whom in fecret Service fhe could trufts
The Rival and Companion of her Luft.
To the known Brothel-House he takes her ways
And for a nafty Room gives double Pay;
That Room in which the rankeft Harlot lay.
Prepar'd for Fight, expectingly fhe lies,
With heaving Breafts and with defiring Eyes:
Still as one drops, another takes his place,
And baffled ftill fucceeds to like difgrace.
At length when friendly Darkness is expir'd,
And ev'ry Strumpet from her Cell rétir'd,
She lags behind, and lingring at the Gate,
With a repining Sigh fubmits to Fate:
All Filth without, and all a Fire within,
Tir'd with the Toil, unfated with the Sin.
Old Cafar's Bed the modeft Matron feeks;

The team of Lamps ftill hanging on her Cheeks

8 He tells the famous Story of Meffalina, Wife to the Em peror Claudins.