The Reformer Exposing The Vices of the Age: In Several Characters. Viz. 1. The Vitious Courtier. 2. The Debauch'd Parson. 3. The Factious Hypocrite. 4. The Wet Quaker. 5. The Covetous Miser. 6. The Prodigal Son. 7. The City Letcher. 8. The Insatiate Wife. 9. The Amorous Maid. 10. The Beau Apprentice. 11. The City Mob. 12. The Country Squire [by Edward Ward] |
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THE REFORMER.
EXPOSING The Vices of the Age: In Several Characters.
I. The Vitious Courtier
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The pleasing Ears of Great Ones to deceive;
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Chops off his Head; 'tis practic'd in a Trice.
He'll give occasion that may move Discourse.
And by a Trick some Dangerous Theme Enforce,
To draw a Doubtful Question to the worst;
He'll make Men Guilty, then Betray 'em first.
Such are the only Spies that gape for Prey,
Cut-throats in silence Smile, and then Betray.
Intraps th'Unskilful, Beggs their forfeit Lives,
To grasp their 'State; thus the base Villain thrives,
Him the true Noble Mind must ever shun,
Or live in hazard still to be undone.
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VIII. An Insatiate Wife
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To Loose and Vile Affections is inclin'd;
Debar her Spark, she to supply his Room,
Will take a Foot-Boy, or a Stable-Groom:
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She'll Kiss the Skullion, and with Knaves Embrace.
Suspect her Faith with all, and all Distrust,
She'll buy a Monkey to supply her Lust:
Lock her from Man and Beast, from all Content,
She'll make him Cuckold with an Instrument;
For she is like an Angry Mastiff chain'd;
She'll bite at all, when she from all's Restrain'd.
We may set Locks and Guards, to Watch her Fire,
But have no means to quench her hot Desire:
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The Irresistlest Fury of the Wind,
As keep a Metl'd Woman, if that she
Strongly dispose her self to Venery.
Nothing can satisfie her hot Desire,
Her Raging Lust burns like a Quenchless Fire.
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IX. An Amorous Maid
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A Gentleman and use me thus! Egad I'll cry,
Ads Body! What means this? Nay fie for Shame!
Nay stand away, nay fie, away; I Vow, you are to Blame.
Hark! Some Body comes, leave off I pray;
I'll Pinch, I'll Scrath, I'll Squeak, I'll go away.
Puh; Faith you strive in Vain, you shall not speed;
You spoil my Head, you hurt my Back, my Nose will Bleed.
Look, look, the Door is open; somebody sees:
What will they say? Nay fie, you hurt my Knees;
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You make me Sweat, at last you'll make me Swear.
Nay pray let me intreat you to be Civil;
You Tear my Smock; I think you are the Devil;
I did not think you would have serv'd me thus,
But now I see, I took my Mark amiss:
A little thing would make me not be Friends;
You've us'd me well, I hope, you'll make amends.
Hold still, I'll wipe your Face, you sweat amain,
You have got a pretty thing with all your Pain!
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If you go Sweating down, what will they think?
Remember this, how you have serv'd me now:
Doubt not ere long, but I will meet with you.
If any Man but you, had us'd me so,
Would I have put it up? In Faith Sir, no.
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XI. The City Mob.
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To be Barbarian, is most Eloquent.
| The Reformer | |