90 'Tis possible ; but sure no man she found; "Twas desart, all, about her father's ground: And yet fome lustful god might there make bold, Court? One sees a dancing-master capering high, come, The noisy hall and theatres grown dumb) Their memories to refresh, and chear their hearts, In borrow'd breeches act the players' parts. 100 Ver. 84. Are Jore and Mars] Of whom more fornicating stories are told than any of the other gods. 114 The poor, that scarce have wherewithal to eat, Will pinch, to make the singing-boy a treat. 105 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 fought: (Though but the parrots of a poet's thought.) The pleading lawyer, though for counsel us’d, 110 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 wond'ring Pharos with her love she fled, To fhew one monster more than Africk bred : Forgetting house and husband, left behind, 120 Ev’n children too; she fails before the wind; False to 'em all, but constant to her kind. But, stranger yet, and harder to conceive, She could 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 seep. 1 25 Ver. 118. To wond'ring Pharos) She fled to Egypt, which wondered at the enormity of her crime. 136 Ere this, 'tis true, she did her fame expose: 129 every cord : And if she fpews, 'tis thinking of her lord. 145 Now ask, for whom her friends and fame she lost? What youth, what beauty could th' adulterer boast? What was the face, for which she could sustain To be call'd mistress to so base a man? 149 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 need ful rest. A promontory wen, with griesly grace, Stood high, upon the handle of his face : 155 160 His blear eyes ran in gutters to his chin: thin. But 'twas his fencing did her fancy move : 'Tis arms and blood and cruelty they love. But should he quit his trade, and sheath his sword, Her lover would 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 suggard but began to snore, When from his side up rose th’imperial whore: She who preferr'd the pleasures of the night 165 To pomps, that are but impotent delight; Strode from the palace, with an eager pace, To cope with a more masculine embrace; Muffled she march’d, like Juno in a cloud, Of all her train but one poor wench allow'd, 170 One whom in secret service she could trust; The rival and companion of her luft. To the known brothel-house she takes her way; And for a nafty room gives double pay; Ver. 163. He tells the famous story of Meffalina, wife to the emperor Claudius. 185 Still as one drops, another takes his place, Now should I fing what poisons they provide; 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 ev'ry hour; Who would not do as much for such a dower ? She writes love-letters to the youth in grace; 201 Nay, tips the wink before the cuckold's face ; And might do more; her portion makes it good; Wealth has the privilege of widowhood. Ver. 204. Wealth has the privilege &c.] His meaning is, that 196 |