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Into the fair, with women mix’d, he went,
Arm’d with a huge two-handed instrument ;
A grateful present to those holy choirs,
Where the mouse, guilty of his sex, retires;
And ev'n male-pictures modestly are vail'd;
Yet no profaneness on that age prevailid;
No scoffers at religious rites are found ;
Tho' now, at ev'ry altar they abound.

I hear your cautious counsel, you would say,
Keep close your women under lock and key :
But, who shall keep those keepers ? Women, nurft
In craft : begin with those, and bribe them first.
The sex is turn'd all whore ; they love the game :
And mistresses and maids are both the same.

The poor Ogulnia, on the poet's day, Will borrow clothes, and chair, to see the play: She, who before had mortgag'd her estate, And pawn'd the last remaining piece of plate. Some are reduc'd their utmost shifts to try : But women have no shame of poverty. They live beyond their stint; as if their ftore The more exhausted, would encrease the more : Some men, instructed by the lab'ring ant, Provide againt th' extremities of want; But womankind, that never knows a mean, Down to the dregs their finking fortune drain: Hourly they give, and spend, and wafte, and wear : And think no pleasure can be bought too dear.

There are who in soft eunuchs place their bliss; To fhun the scrubbing of a bearded kiss ; And 'scape abortion ; but their folid joy Is 5 when the page, already past a boy, Is capon'd late ; and to the guelder shown, With his two pounders to perfection grown.

5 He taxes women with their loving eunuchs, who can get no children; but adds, that they only love such eunuchs as are gelded when they are already at the age of manhood.

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When all the navel-ftring could give, appears ;
All but the beard, and that's the barber's loss, not theirs,
Seen from afar, and famous for his ware,
He struts into the bath, among the fair :
Th'admiring crew to their devotions fall;
And, kneeling, on their new 6 Priapus cali.

Kerv’d for his lady's use, and with her lies
And let him drudge for her, if thou art wise,
Rather than trust him with thy fay’rite boy;
He proffers death, in proffering to enjoy.

If songs they love, the finger's voice they force .
Beyond his compass 'till his quail-pipe's hoarse ;
His lute and lyre, with their embrace is worn;
With knots they trim it, and with gems

adorn: Run over all the strings, and kiss the case ; And make love to it, in the master's place.

A certain lady once of high degree, To Janus vow'd, and Vefta's deity, That 7 Pollio might, in singing, win the prize; Pollio the dear, the darling of her eyes : She pray’d, and brib'd; what could the more have done For å fick husband, or an only fon? With her face veild, and heaving up her hands, The shameless suppliant at the altar stands; The forms of pray'r fe folemnly pursues; And, pale with fear, the offer'd entrails views Answer, ye Pow'rs : for, if you heard her vow, Your Godthips, sure, had little else to do.

This is not all; for 8 actors, they implore : An impudence not known to heav'n before, Th'9 Aruspex, tir'd with this religious rout, Is forc'd to stand so long, he gets the gout.

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6 The god of luft.
7 A famous singing boy.
Ś That such an actor whom they love might win the prize.

9 He who inspects the entrails of the sacrifice, and from thence foretels the success,



But suffer not thy wife abroad to roam,
If she loves singing, let her fing at home;
Not strut in streets, with Amazonian pace;
For that's to cuckold thee before thy face.

Their endless itch of news comes next in play;
They vent their own, and hear what others say.
Know what in Thrace, or what in France is done ;
Th'intrigues betwixt the stepdam, and the fon.
Tell who loves who, what favours some partake :
And who is jilted for another's fake.
What pregnant widow in what month was made ;
How oft she did, and doing, what she said.

She, first, beholds the raging comet rise : Knows whom it threatens, and what land destroys, Still for the freshest news fhe lies in wait; And takes reports juft entring at the gate. Wrecks, floods, and fires; whatever she can meet, She spreads; and is the fame of ev'ry street.

This is a grievance; but the next is worse; A very judgment, and her neighbours curse: For, if their barking dog disturb her ease, No pray'r can bind her, no excuse appease. Th' unmanner'd malefactor is arraign’d ; But first the master, who the curr maintain'd, Muft feel the scourge : by night fhe leaves her bed. By night her bathing equipage is led, That marching armies a less noise create ; She moves in tumult, and the sweats in state. Mean while, her guests their appetites must keep; Some gape for hunger, and fome gasp for fleep. At length she comes, all Aufh'd; but ere she sup, Swallows a swinging preparation-cup; And then to clear her stomach, spews it up. The deluge-vomit all the floor o'erflows, And the four favour nauseates ev'ry nose. She drinks again ; again the spews a lake ; Her wretched hulband sees, and dares not speak :




But mutters many a curse against his wife ;
And damns himself for choosing such a life.

But of all plagues, the greatest is untold ;
The book-learn'd wife in Greek and Latin bold.
The critic-dame, who at her table fits :
Homer and Virgil quotes, and weighs their wits ;
And pities Dido's agonizing fits,
She has so far th' ascendant of the board,
The prating pedant puts not in one word :
The man of law is non-plust, in his sute ;
Nay, every other female tongue is mute.
Hammers, and beating anvils, you would swear,
And 1 Vulcan with his whole militia there.
Tabors 2 and trumpets cease; for she alone
Is able to redeem the lab'ring moon.
Ev'n wit's a burden, when it talks too long :
But the who has no continence of tongue,
Should walk in breeches, and should wear a beard ;
And mix among the philofophic herd.
O what a midnight curse has he, whose fide
Is pefter’d with a 3 mood and figure bride!
Let mine, ye Gods! (if such must be my fate)
No logic learn, nor history translate ;
But rather be a quiet, humble fool :
I hate a wife to whom I go to school,
Who climbs the grammar-tree, distinAly knows
Where noun, and verb, and participle grows;
Corrects her country-neighbour; and, a-bed,
For breaking 4 Priscian's, breaks her husband's head.

The gawdy gossip, when she's set agog, In jewels drest, and at each ear a bob,

1 The god of (miths.

2 The ancients thought that with such sounds they could bring the moon out of her eclipse.

3 A woman who has learned logick.

4 A woman grammarian, who corrects her husband for speaking falle Latin, which is called breaking Priscian's head,



Goes flaunting out, and in her trim of pride,
Thinks all the says or does, is juftify'd.
When poor, she's scarce a tolerable evil ;
But tich, and fine, a wife's a very devil.

She duely, once a month, renews her face ;
Mean time, it lies in dawb, and hid in grease ;
Those are the husband's nights; the craves her due,
He takes fat kisses, and is fuck with glue.
But to the lov'd adult'rer when the steers,
Fresh from the bath, in brightness she appears :
For him the rich Arabia fweats her

And precious oils from diftant Indies come:
How haggardly foeler she looks at home.
Th'eclipse then vanishes; and all her face
Is open'd, and restor'd to ev'ry grace,
The crust remov'd, her cheeks as smooth as filk,
Are polish'd with a wath of affes milk;
And should the to the fartheft North be fent,
A train 5 of these attend her banishment.
But hadit thou seen her plaifter'd up before,
'Twas so unlike a face, it seem'd a fore.

'Tis worth our while, to know what all the day
They do, and how they pafs their time away,
For, if o'er-night the husband has been slack,
Or counterfeited sleep, and turn'd his back,
Next day, be sure, the fervants go to wrack.
The chamber-maid and dresser, are callid whores ;
The page is stript, and beaten out of doors.
The whole house fuffers for the master's crime:
And he himself is warn'd, to wake another time.
She hires tormentors by the

year; the treats Her visitors, and talks; but still she beats. Beats while she paints her face, surveys her gown, Casts

up the day's account, and fill beats on: Tir'd out, at length, with an outrageous tone, She bids 'em in the devil's name be gone.

5 A train of ibefe. That is, of the-asses.

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