 | The wits paraphras'd |  |
81
HELEN TO PARIS
The ARGUMENT.
Helen having received the forgoing Epistle from Paris, returns the following Answer. Wherein she seems at first to chide him for his presumption in writing, as he had done, which cou'd only proceed from his low opinion of her virtue. Then owns her self to be sensible of the passion which he had expressed for her, tho' she much suspect his Constancy, and at last discovers her inclinations to be favourable to him. The whole Letter shewing the Extream artifice of woman kind.
When Courtship grows impertinent,
You fancy Silence gives consent.
With such Designs how dare a stranger
Hope in our park to be a Ranger?
When you came hither helter skelter,
Was it for this we gave you shelter?
You study'd to reward us finely
In troth we us'd you but too kindly;
Your partial will since you came Starbor us
May fancy I'm unchast and barbarous;
But I defie 'em for my Taile
That e're cou'd say black is my nayle.
No Coxcomb yet has had the Knack on't,
Nor shall I give 'em cause to crack on't.
How cou'd you have the Imupdence
To hope a Queen shou'd be your Wench?
You fancy Silence gives consent.
With such Designs how dare a stranger
Hope in our park to be a Ranger?
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Was it for this we gave you shelter?
You study'd to reward us finely
In troth we us'd you but too kindly;
Your partial will since you came Starbor us
May fancy I'm unchast and barbarous;
But I defie 'em for my Taile
That e're cou'd say black is my nayle.
No Coxcomb yet has had the Knack on't,
Nor shall I give 'em cause to crack on't.
How cou'd you have the Imupdence
To hope a Queen shou'd be your Wench?
Because a Royster once forsooth
Thought me a Dish for his own Tooth,
Do 'ye think I'm meat for such a whorson?
Marry come up my Dirty Cousin;
Like him a Princess to bestride,
Is't nothing els but up and ride?
But that was only for a Spurt
And I was more afraid then hurt.
He was a kind good natur'd Devill
I doubt you'd hardly be so civil.
And do you think I scapt his force
For to become your stalking horse?
Thought me a Dish for his own Tooth,
Do 'ye think I'm meat for such a whorson?
Marry come up my Dirty Cousin;
Like him a Princess to bestride,
Is't nothing els but up and ride?
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And I was more afraid then hurt.
He was a kind good natur'd Devill
I doubt you'd hardly be so civil.
And do you think I scapt his force
For to become your stalking horse?
Nor was't for want of good will neither
That I cou'd keep my Legs together.
For I cou'd do with all my heart
With one that cou'd perform his part.
But that I fear thou 'rt such a sloven,
When thou art in to fire the oven;
And leave me glowing in that pickle,
You Trojan Fops are all so fickle.
Yet others Do the very Best on 'em,
Why shou'd not I as well as th'rest on 'em?
Leda was ravisht by a Swan,
And why shou'd Helen fear a Man?
But she had Jove whereof to glory,
And what have I? a Trojan Tory?
For all your boasting and your cracking
Of Phrygian Blood, you may be packing.
That I cou'd keep my Legs together.
For I cou'd do with all my heart
With one that cou'd perform his part.
But that I fear thou 'rt such a sloven,
When thou art in to fire the oven;
And leave me glowing in that pickle,
You Trojan Fops are all so fickle.
Yet others Do the very Best on 'em,
Why shou'd not I as well as th'rest on 'em?
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And why shou'd Helen fear a Man?
But she had Jove whereof to glory,
And what have I? a Trojan Tory?
For all your boasting and your cracking
Of Phrygian Blood, you may be packing.
Your Letter stuft with all the shams
That canting Gosips call flim flams,
Cou'd she but with your boasting buckle,
Wou'd make a very Queen to truckle.
That canting Gosips call flim flams,
Cou'd she but with your boasting buckle,
Wou'd make a very Queen to truckle.
But if I either whore or pilf
For any thing, it is your self.
I'm none of those ill natur'd Bitches:
Sweeten a Coxcomb for his Riches
But if I follow your Worships Highness,
It shall be mear stark Love, and Kindness.
Not that thy presents are a Clog,
For Love my self and Love my Dog.
But that for me so kind thou'st bin
To dabble here throw thick and thin.
For any thing, it is your self.
I'm none of those ill natur'd Bitches:
Sweeten a Coxcomb for his Riches
But if I follow your Worships Highness,
It shall be mear stark Love, and Kindness.
Not that thy presents are a Clog,
For Love my self and Love my Dog.
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To dabble here throw thick and thin.
I have observ'd (tho' I can too
Dissemble it as well as you)
How you'd turn up your goggle Eys,
And play a thousand amorous toys;
Take after me the Pot and Bason,
Nor wou'd you flip the least occasion.
For thy fond tricks I bore the blames on 'em
And many a time I blusht for shame on 'em.
I found thee willing by thy woeing
To do, what not? to be a doing.
Quoth I, I fancy this Fop-Doodle
Wou'd fain be dabling in my puddle.
Come Nelly come, you'l serve the turn,
To cool my pipes, I burn, I burn:
While I that kept thee from my placket,
My self was madder to be at it.
Dissemble it as well as you)
How you'd turn up your goggle Eys,
And play a thousand amorous toys;
Take after me the Pot and Bason,
Nor wou'd you flip the least occasion.
For thy fond tricks I bore the blames on 'em
And many a time I blusht for shame on 'em.
I found thee willing by thy woeing
To do, what not? to be a doing.
Quoth I, I fancy this Fop-Doodle
Wou'd fain be dabling in my puddle.
Come Nelly come, you'l serve the turn,
To cool my pipes, I burn, I burn:
While I that kept thee from my placket,
My self was madder to be at it.
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But oh! Thy face was so bewitching
I cou'd not choose but have an itching;
And tho' it were in Hall or Kitchin
Full dear I long'd to be a Bitching—
Of some young Rump I wish thy Maw full
That thou mayst pray on food that's lawfull.
Tho' I am young enough, and pert too,
You must not think to tempt a Virtue.
I cou'd not choose but have an itching;
And tho' it were in Hall or Kitchin
Full dear I long'd to be a Bitching—
Of some young Rump I wish thy Maw full
That thou mayst pray on food that's lawfull.
Tho' I am young enough, and pert too,
You must not think to tempt a Virtue.
You ask what's sought by all Mankind,
As you have Eyes they are not blind:
Circumfering Eyes make me their Center,
But you upon the spot dare venture.
Had you bin here before the Royster,
You'd had the opening of the Oyster.
But now too late, I've one to do't,
And you may kiss the Rabits Foot
You shou'd a fair'd before this Sot,
Yet I'm contented with my Lot.
Cease then to force a womans shiness
And do not wish me so much Kindness.
As you have Eyes they are not blind:
Circumfering Eyes make me their Center,
But you upon the spot dare venture.
Had you bin here before the Royster,
You'd had the opening of the Oyster.
But now too late, I've one to do't,
And you may kiss the Rabits Foot
You shou'd a fair'd before this Sot,
Yet I'm contented with my Lot.
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And do not wish me so much Kindness.
You think forsooth it is my Duty,
Since the three Misses strove for Beauty:
One offer'd Keys, another Locks,
And Venus, promis'd with a Pox,
For a Reward the rest beguileing,
You shou'd of me have the defileing.
Since the three Misses strove for Beauty:
One offer'd Keys, another Locks,
And Venus, promis'd with a Pox,
For a Reward the rest beguileing,
You shou'd of me have the defileing.
But thus to gratify your pains
Can never beat into my Brains,
That such nice Dames shou'd for a Ball
Uncase their scutts, and shew you all,
Then send to me to scowr your Rammer?
Don't think me such an Innyhammer.
Can never beat into my Brains,
That such nice Dames shou'd for a Ball
Uncase their scutts, and shew you all,
Then send to me to scowr your Rammer?
Don't think me such an Innyhammer.
But grant it were, it is not such
A Booty, tho' you got a touch:
I should be prouder of my Looks
To be in yours and Venus Books.
Juno and Pallas gave a Fee.
And you refus'd 'em all for me.
Am I then such a Dainty Bitt?
What heart of Rock but must submit?
What'ere you hear the Rabble say,
Dissemble still, yet mind your prey,
But to forbeare's the better way;
Yet if you will be bold, you may.
A Booty, tho' you got a touch:
I should be prouder of my Looks
To be in yours and Venus Books.
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And you refus'd 'em all for me.
Am I then such a Dainty Bitt?
What heart of Rock but must submit?
What'ere you hear the Rabble say,
Dissemble still, yet mind your prey,
But to forbeare's the better way;
Yet if you will be bold, you may.
But pray be private as you can,
For fear it come to my good man.
He's gon to see my Nuncle, speed 'em,
And kindly left us to our freedom.
His Journey's long, and longer may
With all my Intralls be his stay.
For fear it come to my good man.
He's gon to see my Nuncle, speed 'em,
And kindly left us to our freedom.
His Journey's long, and longer may
With all my Intralls be his stay.
I can't but tickle at his sence
To leave it to my negligence;
When he to me did recommend
All things, but most his Trojan friend,
I Split my sides, and only said
My Dear, well you shall be Obey'd.
To leave it to my negligence;
When he to me did recommend
All things, but most his Trojan friend,
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My Dear, well you shall be Obey'd.
Fair winds have blown him to a Farr land
What pains he taks to wear the garland?
He's gon, yet still I have some fears
You know small pitchers have long Eares.
You bid me use my time and tool
Left me by the good Easy Fool.
I would—and yet I doubt—pox split it
'Twixt hope and fear I have be sh---it
What pains he taks to wear the garland?
He's gon, yet still I have some fears
You know small pitchers have long Eares.
You bid me use my time and tool
Left me by the good Easy Fool.
I would—and yet I doubt—pox split it
'Twixt hope and fear I have be sh---it
We're both hot set; my Husbands gone;
I can't indure to lie a-lone.
One Room, and nothing but a Wattle
Devides between us and the Cattle.
Hang me but every things so lucky,
As if the Doe did cry come Buck me.
You banter when you shou'd be pressing,
By force to ravish such a Blessing.
Our sex still ready to receive,
And can take more than you can give.
I can't indure to lie a-lone.
One Room, and nothing but a Wattle
Devides between us and the Cattle.
Hang me but every things so lucky,
As if the Doe did cry come Buck me.
You banter when you shou'd be pressing,
By force to ravish such a Blessing.
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And can take more than you can give.
I'de fain be Doing—yet 't were best 'een
Give over, and leave off our jesting.
Tis bad to trust our geer with strangers,
Whose passions like themselves are Rangers.
And how dare I trust you my goods,
Who left Oenone in the suds?
Were you in Earnest, yet you stay
But for a Cast, and then away,
And sculk from Table to your Scull,
Before I've half my Belly full.
Give over, and leave off our jesting.
Tis bad to trust our geer with strangers,
Whose passions like themselves are Rangers.
And how dare I trust you my goods,
Who left Oenone in the suds?
Were you in Earnest, yet you stay
But for a Cast, and then away,
And sculk from Table to your Scull,
Before I've half my Belly full.
But 'cause I'm expert at the sport,
You'l keep m' a Miss in Priams Court;
Then of my fame you'l blow the Trumpet,
And tell the world I am your strumpet.
In Troy what credit shall I find,
And leave in Greece such shame behind?
When all the Town begins to stinck on't,
What will the modest Ladyes think on't?
You'l doubt as I left one for you,
I'll serve your self the same sawce too.
You'l be the first your self will bang me,
I'de rather farr your Grace wou'd hang me.
You'l keep m' a Miss in Priams Court;
Then of my fame you'l blow the Trumpet,
And tell the world I am your strumpet.
In Troy what credit shall I find,
And leave in Greece such shame behind?
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What will the modest Ladyes think on't?
You'l doubt as I left one for you,
I'll serve your self the same sawce too.
You'l be the first your self will bang me,
I'de rather farr your Grace wou'd hang me.
You promise heaps of Trojan Mountains,
But I more prize my Native Fountains.
If any of your Hectors kick me
Ith' Dirt, who have I there to lick me?
Medea was by Iason nubbled,
At such a rate I may be bubble'd.
Poor silly Devils like my self,
Do often Split upon that shelf.
But I more prize my Native Fountains.
If any of your Hectors kick me
Ith' Dirt, who have I there to lick me?
Medea was by Iason nubbled,
At such a rate I may be bubble'd.
Poor silly Devils like my self,
Do often Split upon that shelf.
Your Teeming Dam brought forth a Link,
Which fierd Troy, and made 'em stink:
Besides, some old prophetick Magots,
That Troy should smoke with Grecian Fagots.
I fear 'em both; nor is there trusting
To Venus in our Aid to thrust in.
They'l be reveng'd: the roreing Lyon,
Rob'd of his prey, with Death will fly on.
So great a wrong his Rage wou'd rouze,
And all my friends his cause Espouse.
You boast of Courage, but alas,
Ther's little sign on't in your face,
To turn it on thy swift pursuers:
Great Talkers are the meanest Doers.
Let Soldiers tend their Trump, and Rattle,
Thou'rt timberd for a safer Battle:
And Hector mind his siege and Sallyes,
That's good for nothing but the Gallows.
Which fierd Troy, and made 'em stink:
Besides, some old prophetick Magots,
That Troy should smoke with Grecian Fagots.
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To Venus in our Aid to thrust in.
They'l be reveng'd: the roreing Lyon,
Rob'd of his prey, with Death will fly on.
So great a wrong his Rage wou'd rouze,
And all my friends his cause Espouse.
You boast of Courage, but alas,
Ther's little sign on't in your face,
To turn it on thy swift pursuers:
Great Talkers are the meanest Doers.
Let Soldiers tend their Trump, and Rattle,
Thou'rt timberd for a safer Battle:
And Hector mind his siege and Sallyes,
That's good for nothing but the Gallows.
Yet why shou'd fears my heart amuse,
Had I as much wit as a Gooss?
I'm modest yet upon the sent;
In time I may grow impudent.
You hant my Burrou late and Early,
And only do desire a parley:
This is the Substance of your chat,
But I can guess what you'd be at.
In time, upon it you may chop,
And after seeds may bring a Crop.
Had I as much wit as a Gooss?
I'm modest yet upon the sent;
In time I may grow impudent.
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And only do desire a parley:
This is the Substance of your chat,
But I can guess what you'd be at.
In time, upon it you may chop,
And after seeds may bring a Crop.
This is enough without more shiness,
To let you understand my Kindness.
My womans trusty proof, and let her,
Who knows the Jig, inform thee Better.
To let you understand my Kindness.
My womans trusty proof, and let her,
Who knows the Jig, inform thee Better.
| The wits paraphras'd | |