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PROLOGUE. LADIES! 1 (I hope there’s none behind to hear,) | |
| I long to whisper something in your Ear, | |
| A Secret, which does much my Mind perplex: | |
| There’s Treason in the Play against our Sex. | |
| A Man that’s false to Love, that vows and cheats, | 5 |
| And kisses every living thing he meets! | |
| A Rogue in Mode, I dare not speak too broad, | |
| One that does something to the very Bawd. | |
| Out on him, Traytor, for a filthy Beast! | |
| Nay, and he’s like the pack of all the rest: | 10 |
| None of ’em stick at mark; They all deceive. | |
| Some Jew has changed the Text, I half believe; | |
| Their 2 Adam cozen’d our poor Grandame Eve. | |
| To hide their Faults they rap out Oaths, and tear; | |
| Now tho’ we lye, we’re too well-bred to swear. | 15 |
| So we compound for half the Sin we owe, | |
| But men are dipt for Soul and Body too; | |
| And, when found out, excuse themselves, Pox cant ’em, | |
| With Latin stuff, perjuria ridet Amantum. | |
| I’m not Book Learn’d, to know that word in vogue, | 20 |
| But I suspect ’tis Latin for a Rogue. | |
| I’m sure, I never heard that Schritch-Owl hollow’d | |
| In my poor Ears, but Separation follow’d. | |
| How can such perjur’d Villains e’er be saved? | |
| Achitophel’s not half so false to David. | 25 |
| With Vows and soft Expressions to allure, | |
| They stand, like Foremen of a Shop, demure: | |
| No sooner out of sight, but they are gadding, | |
| And for the next new Face ride out a padding. | |
| Yet, by their Favour, when they have bin kissing, | 30 |
| We can perceive the ready Mony missing. | |
| Well! we may rail; but ’tis as good e’en wink; | |
| Something we find, and something they will sink. | |
| But, since they’re at renouncing, ’tis our Parts | |
| To trump their Diamonds, & they trump our Hearts. | 35 |
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EPILOGUE A Qualm of Conscience brings me back agen, | |
| To make amends to you bespatter’d Men. | |
| We Women love like Cats, that hide their Joys | |
| By growling, squaling, and a hideous Noise. | |
| I rail’d at wild young Sparks; but without lying, | 40 |
| Never was Man worse thought on for high-flying. | |
| The Prodigal of Love gives each her Part, | |
| And Squandring shows at least a noble Heart. | |
| I’ve heard of Men, who, in some lewd Lampoon, | |
| Have hir’d a Friend to make their Valour known. | 45 |
| That Accusation straight this Question brings, | |
| What is the Man that does such naughty things? | |
| The Spaniel Lover, like a sneaking Fop, | |
| Lies at our Feet; he’s scarce worth taking up, | |
| Tis true, such Heroes in a Play go far; | 50 |
| But Chamber Practice is not like the Bar. | |
| When Men such vile, such feint Petitions make, | |
| We fear to give, because they fear to take; | |
| Since Modesty’s the Virtue of our Kind, | |
| Pray let it be to our own Sex confin’d. | 55 |
| When Men usurp it from the Female Nation, | |
| ’Tis but a Work of Supererogation—— | |
| We show’d a Princess in the Play, ’tis true, | |
| Who gave her Cæsar more than all his due; | |
| Told her own Faults; but I shou’d much abhor | 60 |
| To choose a Husband for my Confessor. | |
| You see what Fate follow’d the Saint-like Fool, | |
| For telling Tales from out the Nuptial School. | |
| Our Play a merry Comedy had prov’d, | |
| Had she confess’d as much to him she lov’d. | 65 |
| True Presbyterian-Wives the means wou’d try: | |
| But damn’d Confessing is flat Popery. | |
