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'Tis possible ; but sure no man she found; "Twas desart, all, about her father's ground: And yet fome lustful god might there make

Are Jove and Mars grown impotent and old ?
Many a fair nymph has in a cave been spread, 85
And much good love without a feather-bed.
Whither would'st thou to chuse a wife refort,
The Park, the Mall, the Play-house, or the

Which way foever thy adventures fall,
Secure alike of chastity in all.

One sees a dancing-master capering high,
And raves, and piffes, with pure ecstasy :
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, 95
Admires the song, buť on the finger dotes :
The country lady in the box appears,
Softly she warbles over all the hears ;
And sucks in passion, both at eyes and ears.
The rest (when now the long vacation's

come, The noisy hall and theatres grown dumb) Their memories to refresh, and chear their

hearts, In borrow'd breeches act the players' parts.


Ver. 84. Are Jore and Mars] Of whom more fornicating stories are told than any of the other gods.


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.


Ere this, 'tis true, she did her fame expose: 129
But that, great ladies with great ease can lose.
The tender nymph could the rude ocean bear :
So much her luft was stronger than her fear.
But, had some honest cause her passage prest,
The smallest hardship had disturb’d her breaft:
Each inconvenience makes their virtue cold;
But wornankind, in ills, is ever bold.
Were the to follow her own lord to fea,
What doubts or scruples would she raise to stay?
Her stomach fick, and her head giddy grows;
The tar and pitch are nauseous to her nose. 140
But in love's voyage nothing can offend;
Women are never sea-fick with a friend.
Amidst the crew, she walks upon the board ;
She eats, the drinks, she handles


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 :



His blear eyes ran in gutters to his chin:
His beard was stubble, and his cheeks were

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


And for a nafty room gives double pay;
That room in which the rankest harlot lay.
Prepar'd for fight, expectingly she lies, 176
With heaving breasts, and with desiring eyes.

Ver. 163. He tells the famous story of Meffalina, wife to the emperor Claudius.


Still as one drops, another takes his place,
And baffled still succeeds to like disgrace.
At length, when friendly darkness is expir’d, 180
And every strumpet from her cell retird,
She lags behind, and ling’ring at the gate,
With a repining figh submits to fate :
All filth without, and all a fire within,
Tir'd with the toil, unsated with the fin,
Old Cæsar'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 fing what poisons they provide;
With all their trumpery of charms beside ; 191
And all their arts of death : it would he known
Luft is the smallest sin the sex can own,
Cælinia ftill, they say, is guiltless found
Of ev'ry 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 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


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