University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Poetical Entertainer

Or, Tales, Satyrs, Dialogues, And Intrigues, &c. Serious and Comical. All digested into such Verse as most agreeable to the several Subjects. To be publish'd as often as occasion shall offer [by Edward Ward]

expand sectionI. 
expand sectionII. 
Numb. II.
collapse sectionIII. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
expand sectionIV. 
expand sectionV. 


1

Numb. II.


3

The Character of a certain rattling Whig.

Of all the Fools the present Times produce,
A Whig disgusted is the most profuse;
Not of his Wealth, but lavish of his Tongue;
Hot in Debate, tho' always in the wrong;
Yet wheresoe'er the Saint vouchsafes to come,
He roars, if thwarted, like a beaten Drum;
Does all he says most solemnly aver
For truth, and will no contradiction bear,
But stiles, whoe'er opposes him, at least
A Jacobite, if not a Popish Priest;
Does e'ery Hour new factious Shams devise,
And rails at all that disbelieve his Lyes,

4

Tho' he himself's too stubborn and morose
To credit Truth that does his Int'rest cross,
And will no Faith embrace, or Doctrine chuse,
But what well suits his Purpose, like his News.
So Governments revive those Laws that best
Will serve their present turn and slight the rest.
Eugene, altho' he blunders, must be thought
The most Heroick Prince that ever fought;
And Villars, tho' he baffles him, be made
The meerest Pigmy Gallia ever bred.
Whate'er the Dutch propose shall be allow'd
To tend to Europe's universal good.
What Britain does, beneath the Royal Care,
So wisely manage, must be thought unfair.
War, to a glorious Peace, be still prefer'd,
That Poverty may flourish by the Sword.
And thus he raves and rattles up and down,
Madly blaspheming both the Church and Crown,
Bullies all those that he can over-reach,
But by his Tongue sometimes betrays his Breech

5

To undergo that Penance, justly due
To him that's Saucy to he knows not who.
Good News from foreign Parts, at which he's vex'd
He mangles as a Tubster does his Text;
And, o'er his Ninny-Broth, to shew his spight,
Will construe it all ways, except the right;
But when the naked Truth prevails and shines,
Thro' all the misty Falsities he coins,
Sowre as a Bull-dog at a Butcher's Heels,
He lobs and leers and with ill-nature swells,
And looks as if he ready was to bite
Each Man he meets for a Sachev'relite,
Who, in his Frowns may easily discover
What bloody News th'last Dutch Mail brought over
So the frow'rd Gamester damns the Dice, when broke,
And makes himself the Picture of Ill-luck,
That whosoe'er observes the Rake's Grimace,
May read his late Ill-fortune in his Face.
In Tavern, factious Healths are his delight,
In which, at once, he shews his Love and Spight.

6

Against the Throne his Calumnies he spreads,
And rattles forth Eugene and Marlbrough's Deeds,
Lessens the Conduct which he ought to praise,
And impudently warrants all he says;
If contradicted, like a Hector huffs,
And heeds no Arguments but Kicks and Cuffs;
Abandons Duty, Modesty, and Sence,
And rattles with unbounded Insolence;
Gives us, instead of Reason, what the Great
And Rev'rend Fl---d terms, we know not what;
To Men of Manners makes himself appear
A more absurd Companion than a Bear;
Among the factious Clan has knacks to please,
But is to all the World besides a tease;
The Church he laughs at, and can scarce afford
The least due rev'rence to the sacred Word;
Tries all Religion by the touchstone Rules
Of Daniel's Revolution Principles;
Rejecting that as naught which don't agree
With pulling down the Pow'r of Monarchy;

7

And ridicules all Doctrine, 'less its brought
From Holland, and in Moorfield's Allies taught;
Yet claims the Name of Protestant, in hope
To save himself by damning of the Pope;
For all his Practises too plainly shew,
He's less a Christian than a Turk or Jew;
Honours the empty Name, but thinks the rest
A Cheat, a humane Artifice, a Jest,
Long since invented, and by Laws enjoin'd
By crafty Tyrants to enslave Mankind;
Yet of Religion talks, as many do
Of Robin Hood, whose Bow they never drew;
But 'tis not in his Nature to afford
The Rev'rend Clergy one respectful Word,
Except those few who for the Faction preach,
And scandalize the Truths they ought to teach.
Thus bad, and worse, is he whose Tongue of late,
At Will's, did such provoking Nonsense prate,
Condemn'd the Ministry, extol'd the Dutch,
Stain'd his own Country with unjust reproach,
Till, for his Pains, he was compell'd to take
A High-Church footing for the Low-Church sake.

8

Whig and Tory.

An Epigram.

A vaunting Whig cry'd, Holland and Eugene
Will do the Work without the Church and Queen.
An honest Tory standing by, reply'd,
Faith, Friend, your Confidence declares your Side
But wiser Heads believe, that France will gain
The Empire sooner than the Empire Spain.

The Courtier's Compliment.

An Epigram.

Old blunt Sir Edward went to see the Queen,
Sal held the Door and would not let him in.
Madam, quoth he, you look so like your Mother,
That were she here, whose Deeds no Grave can smother,
Tho' puff'd so big of late, by him that made ye,
We scarce shou'd know the Dutchess from the Lady

9

The B*****s.

An Epigram.

In the Lord's House for Peace the B****s pray,
But Vote i'th' House of Lords another way.
So Phillis in Jove's Temple sits demure,
But, in the Temple of the Law turns Whore.

The Climber.

A Fable.

A swain, who had from time to time
Stood fair in Fortune's Books,
Made it his chief delight to climb
Aloft to rob the Rooks.
But growing foolish in his Age,
When too securely blest,
To please the Knaves, would needs engage
To take an Eagle's Nest.

10

He did accordingly ascend
A dang'rous Rock that grew
By the Sea-side, to gain the End
His Comrades had in view.
But as he did too close invade
The Eagle's lofty Throne,
The Royal Bird her Pinions spread,
And beat the Dotard down,
Who spralling lay much marr'd and maim'd,
Repenting what he'd done,
And, for his Pains, was mock'd and blam'd
By those that set him on.

Moral.

Whoe'er at Government presumes
To climb, and gets a Fall,
Loses his Honour, and becomes
The ridicule of all.

11

The Two Harlots.

An Epigram.

Engaging Phillis to her Arms decoy'd
A Spark of Chloe's, she had long enjoy'd,
Hussy, quoth Chloe, you're a treach'rous Jade,
I'd give you half my Cloaths, or half my Bread,
But not an Inch of my Gallant, you W**re.
And then the Rival's Coif the Fury tore.
Spare me, quoth Phil. forgive the Wrong I've done,
Two is too many for so dull a Drone,
I must confess he's not enough for one.

Chloe at Church.

A Song.

As in Jove's Temple once I pray'd,
A lovely Angel did surprize
My Soul, and, as she sat, display'd
A thousand Blessings with her Eyes.

12

Her Looks outshone the God of Day,
Her Face and Mein did well agree;
Devout she seem'd, tho' young and gay,
And awful as a Deity.
As she adorn'd the Holy Place,
Her Charms diffus'd a beauteous Light,
But when her Fan eclips'd her Face,
The pleasing Day was turn'd to Night.
At e'ery distant view I took,
A sudden Ague froze each Vein,
But when she blest me with a Look,
A Fever thaw'd my Blood again.
So great was her resistless Pow'r,
And so obsequious was my Love,
I scarce knew which to most adore,
Her Beauty or the Gods above.
O bounteous Venus! make her kind,
In her both Joy and Torment dwell;
For in her Smiles a Heav'n I find,
But in her scornful Frowns a Hell.

13

The Countryman's description of his Mistress.

She had, Gaffer Dumbleton, ay marry had she,
On each of her Brows a handful of Hair,
And rowl'd about two goggle Eyes like a mad she,
Was as rude as a Colt, and as rough as a Bear.
Her Udders no Cow newly calv'd could have bigger,
Her Belly so large, tho' I speak for no harm,
That whoever, I'm sure, has the Fortune to dig her,
Had need have a Spade full as long as my Arm.
Her Buttocks, no Mare can have plumper or fatter,
Like Stones in a Mill they most lovingly grind;
And if they're ne'er work'd by the strength of her Water,
I'm sure they are often supply'd by the Wind.
Of Cleanliness, Nouns, she's a notable Pattern,
Her sweaty black Locks she oft combs on her Cheese,
Upon which, with her Thumb, the sweet hussisly Slattern
Cracks heaps upon heaps, as it lies on her Knees.
Her Cloaths she becomes as a Sow does a Saddle,
Her Bonnet-flaps flies from her Pockfretten Face;
And whenever she walks e'ery Step is a Straddle,
As if the great Maukin was striding a Race.
No Hog in a Stye has a Hogo more frowsy,
Her Skin looks as yellow as rusty fat Bacon:
And can she believe I would wed such a Hussy?
No, no, if she does she is wound'ly mistaken.

14

The Tinker's Courtship.

Come Jug, tho' thou'rt tawny,
I'll make thee my Honey,
Thou'rt youthful and charming,
Altho' thou'rt so brown;
Thy Features and Favours,
Thy Smiles and Behaviours,
To me are more warming,
Than Paint, Powder, Patches,
Fine Dresses, Gold-Watches,
Now worn by each Jilt of the Town.
I'll love thee and hug thee,
Lie close in cold Weather.
Then prithee now, Juggy,
Let's travel together.
Our am'rous Souls we'll feast
Upon a Bed of Straw,
True Lovers want no Priest,
The honest need no Law.
Then be loving and kind, without further debate,
For to cozen the Church is the fashion of late.

15

The deceitful Lady punish'd, AND Innocent Love rewarded.

A rich old Batchelor, whose care
Was chiefly to provide an Heir
Of his own getting, or, at least,
A Wife, by whom he might be bless'd
With a fair Offspring, to his honour,
Tho' by his Friends begot upon her,
Happen'd to find a Coltish Tooth
In's Head, that had surviv'd his Youth,
Which so bewitch'd him with a strong
Desire, to such a charming young

16

And Buxom Lass, so full of Lust,
That if he cou'd not, others must;
Not that she'd lost her Reputation,
Whate'er might be her Inclination,
But was too fair and gay, by much,
For Age, Gout, Flannel, and a Crutch,
That any might foresee his Fortune
Would soon be seal'd behind the Curtain,
Or that he would be thought, at best,
A Cuckold, tho' his Wife was chast.
For he that's old and has the folly
To wed a Maid that's young and jolly,
Tho' none have dabbl'd with his 'Spouse,
Yet common Fame will horn his Brows,
For all Men think that fumbl'd Beauty
Hath reason to transgress her Duty.
However, Gravity and Phtysick,
In hopes young Flesh would prove good Physick,
Ventur'd upon the beauteous Maid,
And took her to his Marriage Bed;

17

His Fortune being much the greater,
Hers chiefly in the Gifts of Nature,
For which good Reason she comply'd
To be the old Curmudgeon's Bride,
That when kind Death had snatch'd away,
From her warm Sides, his frozen Clay,
And he had left her Gay and Wealthy,
She might have one more Young and Healthy.
These hopes alone make Youth engage
In Marriage with decrepit Age,
As Boys serve 'prentiships to be
More happy Masters when they're free.
The wealthy Dotard having thus
Got a fair Bride to Hug and Buss,
Thought himself highly bless'd, above
All other Mortals, in her Love,
And fumbl'd on with all his Spirit,
To raise an Heir, that might inherit
His large Possessions, but his Madam
Found matters not as she'd have had 'em;

18

So that things would not happen right,
As both sides highly wish'd they might,
Tho' still he doted so upon
The charming Prize his Age had won,
That all the Year was Honey-Moon.
But in this Interim a kind
Old trusty Neighbour and a Friend,
Who was as great as Cup and Kan
With the new-marry'd Gentleman,
Had a brisk Youth who just was come
From tedious Foreign Travel home,
And for the sake of his good Father,
Or his own worthy Merits rather,
Was by the Husband much respected,
And by the Wife as well affected,
So that at length he grew as free,
In the miscoupl'd Family,
As if the Youth had been no other
Than th'old Man's Son or Madam's Brother,

19

Being by both most kindly treated,
As far as Modesty permitted,
But no Intrigue carr'd on that cou'd
Be justly reckon'd base or lewd,
Tho' e'ery Freedom else, in truth,
Were taken by the Wife and Youth;
Who, tho' they had no sinful Meetings,
Would play together like two Kittens,
And sometimes in her Chamber chat,
But without off'ring you know what;
For you must think she often bedded
Apart from the Old Man she'd wedded,
That she might rest without the teasings
Of Flegmy Coughs, and Phtisick-Wheesings,
Then 'twas they'd dally for an Hour
Or two, and toy, but do no more,
Till drowsy Nature sleep requir'd,
And then the civil Youth retir'd.
So when Platonick Lovers walk
In Groves, they Ogle, Jest, and Talk,

20

But scorn to stain their Conversation,
With the sweet Sin of Procreation.
Thus Friendship got the start of Lust,
And tho' they lov'd, yet both were Just,
Improving, to their great Content,
Such Freedoms as were Innocent:
At length, when both in private were
The Youngster, toying with the Fair,
Made bold to ask her, If her 'Spouse
Should take his farewel, who she'd chuse
To be her next, in case she shou'd
Think fit to change her Widowhood,
To which she, like a loving Wife,
Reply'd, Pray God preserve the Life
Of my good Husband, tho' he's old;
But if he should to Heav'n be call'd,
Yourself my only choice should be,
Provided you'd accept of me.
Which answer so oblig'd the Youth,
That he at once confess'd the truth,

21

And vow'd, that, as he lov'd her dearly,
He'd be at her Command intirely,
Would also gladly wait the time
With patience, would she vow to him,
That, when it happen'd, he alone
Should be the Man she'd pitch upon.
With which she readily comply'd,
And swore herself his future Bride,
In case that he should live to see
Her Husband's Exit set her free.
Thus was the Bargain bound most firmly,
And seal'd with Kisses very warmly.
By this time, tho' they'd never made
A vicious use o'th' Marriage-Bed,
Yet had their freedoms giv'n a handle
To some ill Neighbours, that a Scandal
Was rais'd, and whisper'd far and near,
Till it had reach'd his Father's Ear,
Who, being troubl'd that his Son
Should into such an Error run,

22

Tax'd him with the Offence severely,
Tho' he deny'd it as sincerely,
And, to his Fathers Satisfaction,
Abjur'd the Guilt of such an Action.
But the old Gentleman b'ing much
Concern'd that such a vile Reproach
Should, on his Sons account, be cast
On his Friend's Wife, believ'd so chast,
And thinking so much smoak could ne'er
Ascend without some hidden Fire,
Enjoin'd the Youngster to desist
His Visits, till the rising Mist
Was blown away, which had already
Clouded the Vertue of the Lady.
The Youth, altho' this Obligation
Sat as uneasy as Castration,
Yet fearing, if he disobey'd,
He should be disinherited,
His distance kept, and did not dare
To visit his beloved Fair,

23

Or, as he us'd to do, carouse
A Bottle with her ancient 'Spouse,
Who now began to wonder, why
The Youth withheld his Company,
Who had not won, by his Behaviour,
Only the Wife's, but Husband's Favour;
So far, that he design'd to make him
His Heir when God should please to take him;
Therefore for fear some disrespect
Among his Servants, or neglect
Had giv'n Offence, he sent a Letter
T'enquire into the truth o'th' matter
And beg'd to know the reason why
He'd been, of late, so very shy,
The Youth not willing to disclose
The Cause that held him from the House,
Pretended that his long remisness
Was owing to some urgent Bus'ness;
And therefore humbly hop'd his Goodness,
At present, would excuse his Rudeness,

24

And that e'relong he'd come and own
His Fault, and for the same attone.
This Answer he return'd by th'Hand
That brought the Letter from his Friend,
But did not dare to write a Word
To th'Lady he so much ador'd,
For fear the consequence should prove
Destructive to their mutual Love,
And happen to confirm the bad
Report, which Evil-Tongues had spread;
Therefore, the danger to prevent,
His humble Service only sent.
Just after this, as walking through
A Fair, the Youngster went to view,
He chanc'd to meet with Mistress Kather'n,
The Confident and Chamber Slattern,
That waited on the Lady bright,
The object of his sole delight,
And glad of such a good occasion
To gratify his am'rous Passion,

25

In hearing of her Health at least,
And how his absence had displeas'd,
He scrap'd Acquaintance with the Lass,
And took her in to take a Glass,
O'er which he lib'rally set forth
Her Lady's Vertues, Wit, and Worth;
How far he chastly did adore her,
And what an Honour he had for her,
At which the Hoyden laugh'd, and cry'd,
Alas, Sir, you are quite beside
The Cushion, you're a stranger to her,
You'd scarce so praise her if you knew her;
She only gives the Shell to you,
Whilst others do the Kernel chew.
“Prithee Sweet-heart, reply'd the Squire,
“Explain your meaning, I desire,
“I cannot think her such a sly
“Deceptress as your words imply.
You may believe her, quoth the Creature,
A perfect Saint, but I know better,

26

For if I'm sitting in this place,
And you are now before my Face,
Your own Companion, Young Philaster,
Has kiss'd her oft'ner than my Master,
That is, together they've been naught;
I mean, by kissing,—you know what.
“'Tis sure impossible, reply'd
The Gentleman, “She could not hide
“So black a Guilt with so much Grace
“And charming Goodness in her Face,
“I'm satisfy'd it cannot be,
“Her Looks confirm her Modesty;
“Besides, I never heard my Friend
“Drop one kind saying, that could tend
“Tow'rds any such Intrigue between 'em,
“So oft as I've together seen 'em,
“Nor all the times that we have sat
“With Madam, talking this or that,
“Could I, from either Countenance
“Discern one sly suspicious Glance.

27

No, no, says Kather'n, they have too
Much cunning to be catch'd by you,
Yet they as surely do embrace
As this is Cyder in the Glass;
For I am forc'd sometimes to be
Privy to what I hate to see.
Quoth the young Squire, ‘The Crime's too filthy,
“And she too Vertuous to be guilty,
“I cannot, will not, think her yet
“So full of Lewdness and Deceit.
Think as you please, cries taudry Kate,
But I'm your Friend, I tell you that,
It must come out, e'relong, most surely,
They can't Sin always so securely,
And then you'll see how wond'rous chast
Your Angel will appear at last;
But pray forbear to tell my Lady
What in true Friendship I have said t'ye.
After he'd promis'd to conceal
What Kate thought proper to reveal,

28

He drank a Glass, half broken hearted,
And from the Tell-tale Gossip parted,
Reflecting upon what the Slut
Into his thoughtful Head had put;
Sometimes believing that the Lass
Herself, might covet his Embrace,
And therefore fram'd these Lies to make
The Beauty he ador'd look black:
Or that her Malice, upon some
Disgust, had spur'd her to become
So base a Jade, as to detract
Her Lady, guiltless of the Fact:
These Thoughts, supported by the Pow'r
Of that tenacious Love he bore,
So far o'ercame those Doubts and Fears,
Which enter'd at his glowing Ears,
That he, at length, was fully bent
To judge the Lady innocent,
Resolving all that had been said,
Was only Malice in the Maid.

29

So fond Uxorious Cuckolds wedded
To Harlots, by their Neighbours bedded,
If told, in friendship, of their Wives
Backslidings, and salacious Lives,
They disbelieve the Fact, and rail
At him or her that bears the Tale.
Soon after this a second Letter
Was sent by the old Fornicator,
To the young 'Squire, wherein he made
Much wonder that he had not paid
One Visit yet, and beg'd to know
The reason, why he us'd him so,
Entreating, also, that he'd come
And make his Mansion-House his Home.
The loving Youth, who much desir'd
To see the Lady he admir'd,
After his Ears had heard a Story
So odious and defamatory,
Did to her 'Spouse an Answer write,
That he'd be with him such a Night

30

But beg'd him that he would be ready,
Without the knowledge of his Lady,
In such a Room, at such an Hour,
And open leave his Garden-door,
Thro' which he would in private pass,
And with him take an Ev'ning's Glass,
Giving him caution not to scatter
A Word i'th' House about the matter,
Except to him he did design
Should wait upon 'em with their Wine,
And that he'd give him Reasons, why
He did desire such privacy.
When the time came, the Youngster paid
His secret Visit unbetray'd,
And by his good old trusty Friend,
Was very kindly entertain'd,
To whom he frankly did disclose
The Cause that kept him from his House;
And that he hop'd his being there
Would never reach his Father's Ear.

31

For if it should, he well foreknew,
Much Anger would at least ensue;
And that the consequence might prove
A less'ning of his Father's Love.
The good Old Man did much commend
The Care he took to not offend,
And thank'd him for his great Discretion,
In stifling that Disreputation,
Which Evil-Tongues had rais'd without
Sufficient cause, he did not doubt;
Therefore excus'd his long forbearance,
Approving of his non-appearance.
In drinking, and in such-like Chat,
They spent the happy Night, till late,
That Age, not able to endure
A further Glass at such an Hour,
Was forc'd to drowsily retire
To Bed, and leave his Friend the 'Squire,
To nod a little time away
Upon a Couch, till Break-of-Day,

32

Wh'intended early to be gone,
Before the rising of the Sun,
That not a Servant, but the Waiter,
Might know a tittle of the Matter:
But when he found himself alone,
His Thoughts were so intent upon
The object of his Hopes and Joys,
That Morphens could not close his Eyes,
For Love still hover'd o'er his Heart,
And kept him waking with his Dart.
At length consid'ring that the way
Toth' Chamber where the Lady lay,
Was up a Stair-case that he knew,
He ventur'd to approach thereto,
Hoping, according to her use,
She might be sep'rate from her Spouse,
And that the Door might only be
Upon the Latch, or that the Key
Was left by Carelesness without,
Or some such Accident fall out,

33

Whereby he might relieve his Passion,
By a few Moments Conversation.
For Love, in Solitude, creates
A thousand Whimsies in our Pates;
And, when our Brains with Wine are dizzy,
Renders all Hazards safe and easy.
This the desirous loving Youth
Found, by experience, to be truth;
And starting from his easy Couch,
On tip-toe made his soft approach,
Till to the Chamber of the Dame,
At length, by cautious Steps, he came,
But found the Door he gently grop'd for,
Too fast for th'entrance that he hop'd for:
However, list'ning stood to hear
The Breathings of his charming Dear,
Which he discover'd much more loud,
Than he expected that he shou'd,
As if some lushious Dream had rais'd her
Into an extasy that pleas'd her.

34

At length the squeaking Bed comply'd
With Motions wich he heard beside,
And Whispers, Sighs, and kissing Smacks,
In Chorus join'd with Bedstead cracks;
By which he plainly understood,
His Angel was about no good:
At last discover'd very plain,
Some kind Expressions of a Man,
By whose sweet Words and Voice he knew
Philaster to be one o'th' two;
Which now convinc'd him, that the Mouth
Of Kate had spoke no more than truth,
And that his Angel was, at best,
A Devil downwards from the Wast,
Altho' when lac'd within her Bodice,
She upwards look'd so like a Goddess.
These sinful Workings so amaz'd
The 'Squire, that he was almost craz'd,
To think how he'd been bubbl'd by
A Jilt, so wicked and so sly,

35

Thinking at first to force his way,
And stick the Lovers as they lay:
But then reflecting that so heinous
A Crime was very dissentaneous
To Reason, Justice, and to all
The Laws Divine and Natural;
And that all Ages held it good,
That Blood should be repay'd with Blood.
He overcame those daring Thoughts,
And left 'em to repeat their Fau'ts,
Stealing down Stairs, to shun all further
Incentives to so black a Murder,
Quitting the Mansion in a deep
Concern, when Day began to peep,
Returning timely home, without
His Father's knowing he'd been out.
But when he came to recollect
His Love, and Madam's foul defect,
Her Wickedness and his own Folly,
Possess'd his Heart with melancholy,

36

Which ended in a Fit of Sickness,
Attended with consumptive Weakness:
However he, by Art, at length,
Grew better, and recover'd strength,
Resolving now to spend his Days
In travelling from Place to Place,
Hating his Native Country, where
Such Monsters liv'd among the Fair;
But from his Friends conceal'd, with Caution,
The Reasons of his Resolution,
Pretending only 'twas his Fancy
He should regain his Health beyond-Sea,
Which here the sharpness of the Air,
He found, did very much impair,
When Madam's Levity alone
Provok'd the Youngster to be gone.
For who that Loves, and is deny'd,
Can bear to have the Nymph enjoy'd,
And he himself unpity'd stay
Till Death has snatch'd her 'Spouse away;

37

And then, to cool his am'rous Heat,
Must take the Bitter with the Sweet.
Therefore the 'Squire, to cure his Passion,
Prepar'd for Foreign Per'grination,
Resolving, when he just was ready
To march, once more to see the Lady,
And give the Jilt to understand,
By Letter thrust into her Hand,
What he'd detected, how and when;
And that it might appear more plain,
Recited sev'ral Words that pass'd,
During the time she was embrac'd,
Such as no Woman could forget,
They were so joyful and so sweet:
And what's most feelingly express'd,
The tender Sex remember best.
When thus he'd penn'd a stabbing Letter,
For his dear, fair, deceitful Creature,
To his Friend's House away he went,
To put in practise his intent;
Also to dine and to carouse
A parting Bottle with her 'Spouse:

38

Which he accordingly perform'd,
Till with the Wine their Brains were warm'd.
The good old Man, at e'ery turn,
Expressing very much concern,
That he should lose, for evermore,
A Friend he'd so much kindness for,
Making large Offers, if he'd change
His Temper, and forbear to range:
But all his Kindness would not make
The 'Squire his Resolution break;
Who, when 'twas almost time to think
Of parting, did from Table slink,
That he might opportunely find
A Minute to express his Mind
To Madam, who as much desir'd
To grant the Favour he requir'd,
That she might shed a farewel Tear,
To comfort her departing Dear,
And steal a Kiss from him she reckon'd
She had secur'd to be her Second:
But he no sooner found the Lady,
In place convenient, standing ready,

39

Weeping in melancholy Posture,
But thus did in a Rage accost her.
O false dissembling Fair, the worst
Of Women, bless'd, and yet accurs'd;
Happy in thy external Feature,
But wretched in thy lustful Nature;
Angelick in thy Looks and Mien,
But black and devil-like within.
“Lord, Sir, reply'd the Lady frighted,
“Why am I thus misus'd and slighted?
“What have I done? What just occasion
“Given for this unruly Passion?
There, thou perfidious wicked Creature,
Replies the Lover, read that Letter;
Let that thy odious Failings tell,
Which wrack my Bosom. So farewel.
Then, turning short, return'd again
To the old nodding Gentleman,
And bidding his dear Friend adieu,
With all convenient haste withdrew,
Leaving the Lady to unfold
Those startling Truths the Letter told,

40

And to reflect upon her Folly,
O'ercome with Grief and Melancholy,
That quite unable to sustain
Her Guilt, which he had prov'd so plain,
Too conscious of the Ills she'd acted,
In a few Days she dy'd distracted.
Whose Death so wrought upon her 'Spouse,
Who knew not she had horn'd his Brows,
That he himself departed soon,
And wanting Issue of his own,
Did, in his dying Will declare
The fortunate young 'Squire his Heir,
Who being by cross Winds with-held,
Receiv'd the News before he sail'd,
And soon returning from aboard,
Enjoy'd the truth of what he'd heard.

Moral.

Thus modest Looks too often skreen
The Serpent Lust that lurks within.
But Time turns sinful Joys to Sadness.
And good Mens Sorrows into Gladness.
The End.