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The Modern World disrob'd

or, both sexes Stript of their pretended vertue. In Two Parts. First, Of the Ladies. Secondly, Of the Gentlemen. With Familiar Descant upon every Character [by Edward Ward]
  

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[PART I.]
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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I. [PART I.]

The formal Precisian;

OR, The devout Lady.


8

The pious Dame, with formal Face,
demure in Speech and Carriage;
Altho' she talks so much of Grace,
Is not the best for Marriage.
For Woman, tho' she's so precise
As ne'er to speak a Word ill;
Yet her Religion never lies
Beneath the Waste or Girdle.

9

What, tho' she prays with holy Friends,
And cants against the Devil;
Yet saving Grace ne'er condescends
To stoop beneath her Navel.
Her Petticoats so hard she ties,
That Conscience keeps its Station;
Nor can what's done below, arise
To give it Perturbation.
Thus wisely makes Religion know
Its Bounds of Ambulation,
That Grace above, and Lust below,
Have no Communication.
So that in Case the Seat of Love,
Her Tail, commits a Folly,
She thinks her Mind, that dwells above,
Is ne'er a Jot less holy.
Or else her Tongue could never cant
Of Grace with gifted Brother,
And act the Part of pious Saint,
Whilst Buttocks play another.
Fond Youth, beware how you pursue
The Lass demurely sober,
The Saint would vanish soon, could you
Of holy Cheats disrobe her.
The pious Dame may plague your Head;
Such Roses have their Prickles:
And Punks and Jilts are often bred
In holy Conventicles.

10

The Female Student;

OR, The Learned Lady.


19

Unhappy he that's doom'd to wear
The Matrimonial Collar,
With her who is not only fair,
But fancies she's a Schollar.
Puff'd up with Pride and vain Conceit,
She'll soar above her Station,

20

And think she has, by Dint of Wit,
The Right of Domination.
What, tho' she scolds in French or Dutch,
Or chatters in the Roman,
One Tongue is always found too much
For a contentious Woman.
If with more Languages she's hung,
Than taught her by her Mother,
Whene'er you bid her hold one Tongue,
She'll plague you with another.
Therefore let none select a Wife,
For having sundry Speeches;
The more she has, the greater Strife
Will rise about the Breeches.
Nor let the youthful Novice chuse
A Woman for her Learning;
For Wives turn greater Jilts or Shrews,
The more they are discerning.
Therefore, I say, beware, my Friend,
Of learned Dame or Gammar,
Who will with Tongue and Broom, contend
About the Rules of Grammar.
The prattling Shrew, in Spite of Art,
Will prove a head-strong Creature;
And thro' her cursed Pride, invert
The very Laws of Nature.

21

She muses as she uses:

OR, The Censorious Lady.


26

Of all the jealous Female-Race,
No Dame is so censorious
As she, who tho' she shuns Disgrace,
Deserves to be notorious.
For as she sins without the Shame,
And saves her Reputation,
She thinks all Women do the same,
Tho' free from Defamation.
Meeting with neither Child or Clap,
All single Dames and Widows
She fancies by some Art escape
The same, yet kiss as she does.

27

You therefore, who had rather wed,
Than live at large, and wander,
Ne'er join the Dame in Marriage-Bed,
That's given much to Slander.
For she that's forward to distrust,
On slender Grounds, another,
Has stood Love's penetrating Thrust,
As surely as her Mother.
She that has broke thro' Vertue's Laws,
And no Delight refuses,
Will think all others bad, because
She muses as she uses.
The Mother ne'er had peep'd at Mouth
Of th'Oven for her Daughter,
Had not the Baker, in her Youth,
That Way of hiding taught her.
Therefore the Fool, that wou'd be curs'd
Above his horned Brothers,
Of Plagues I'd have him wed the worst,
The Jilt that censures others.

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The Cunning Wanton:

OR, Intriguing Lady.


35

If she that boasts of noble Blood,
Of Vertue, and of Honour,
Will stray in spite of all that's good,
And bring Disgrace upon her:
If such, who are so nicely bred,
No Patience have to tarry;
But will, like German Eagle, spread
Their Legs before they marry:
Well may young Country Jug and Joan,
With Roger take their Freedom,
And wanton Damsels, bred in Town,
Submit to those that need 'em.
If Doll, the Chamber-maid, can find
My Lady has her Paces,
The Minx will have a longing Mind
To yield her own Embraces.
No sooner that the Slattern knows
Her Lady takes it freely,
But John, the Butler, must be chose
To be her Cockadilly.

36

If Quality thus run astray,
Who practise so much kneeling,
And yet as often as they pray,
Make Use of Fellow-Feeling:
Well may those Dames, who never had
Such pious Education,
Thro' want of Sense or Grace, run mad
For wicked Copulation.
Therefore, my Friend, if you'd be free
From horned Defamation,
Take Care as well of Quality,
As those of lower Station.

37

The Countess of Brandipolis:

OR, The Toping Lady.


42

Since scornful Dames, of high Renown,
Who ride in gilded Coaches,
Become the Jests of Court and Town,
For their obscene Debauches:
Well may Dame Thumbleton excuse
The Love she' as for the Pitcher;
And needy Whores bred up in Stews,
Take Pattern by the Richer.
If swelling Honour cannot bind
My Ladies, who are Courtiers,
From Stygian Drams, at first design'd
For Carmen, and for Porters:
But Noble Blood must rob the Rogues
Of their infernal Liquor,
And lofty Ladies have their Cogues
To make their Wits the quicker:

43

Who then can blame the Market-Dames,
That join their Pence together,
And by internal Brandy-Flames,
Keep out the frosty Weather?
But female Quality, of late,
To mend their tallow Faces,
Such who of Birth and Vertue prate,
Will tope off brimming Glasses.
So well the fiery Juice agrees
With Woman's colder Nature;
'Twill make the rev'rend Lady kiss
As warmly as her Daughter.
But if her Honour knows not how
To use it as she should do,
'Twill make her drunk as common Sow,
And every Jot as lewd too.

44

The Dissatisfy'd Wife:

OR, The Jealous Lady.


49

When the brisk Help-Mate does begin
To think her Husband slighting,
And doubts he plays at in and in
With Ladies more inviting.
'Tis Time he either mends his Pace,
To prove she is not cheated;
Or that he padlocks up the Place,
Where Female Honour's seated.
Or else, to ease her longing Mind,
She'll kiss behind the Curtain;
And tho' she seems more fondly kind;
Will horn him of a certain.
For when young Madam jealous proves,
Her Husband may be sure on't,
She only hints what 'tis she loves,
And that she wou'd have more on't.
In Wives, it is a modest Way
Of shewing what is wanted,
And begging that our Favours may
More lib'rally be granted.

50

I'm jealous Husband. Prithee why?
Because I'm so neglected.
That is, you don't repeat the Joy
So often as expected.
Not but, perhaps, the Gypsy thinks,
That you're a Man full able;
But that you kiss some wanton Minx,
And misapply your Bauble.
No Matter whether false or true,
Or brisk as other Fellows,
Your Wife believes sh'as not her Due,
Or else she'd ne'er be jealous.
For Jealousy's the Scum of Lust,
That boils above Discretion;
And if one won't, another must
Appease the frothy Passion.

51

Bad Luck to him that has her.

OR, The Gaming Lady.


56

Woman , when any Vice sh'as chose,
Whate'er the Devil ails her,
The evil Habit ne'er can lose,
'Till Purse or Beauty fails her.
If am'rous Sporting be her Game,
But trust her o'er the Gruncel,
And 'till she's old she'll hunt the same,
In Spite of all good Counsel.
If Drinking be her chosen Vice,
Ev'n Age will not reform her;
But still she'll drink whilst she can piss,
To keep her Clay the warmer.
If Gaming be your Wife's Delight,
She'll grow but worse upon ye,
And still play on, until her Sight
Does fail her, or her Money.
Therefore e'en let her chafe and scold,
But keep her from your Britches;
Or else she'll game away your Gold,
And soon exhaust your Riches.

57

Nor should you fear to be undone
By what she loses barely;
For Women have more Games than one,
Who love the Cards so dearly.
If Fortune, in a moody Vein,
Should chance to hardly use her,
The Winner, if a handsom Man,
Must always kiss the Loser.
Thus Gaming very oft does prove
A Bawd to that which worse is,
And causes base adult'rous Love,
As well as empty Purses.

58

Female Secresy:

OR, The Prying Lady.


63

She that unlocks her Husband's Breast,
By fondling and indulging,
Dives only that her Tongue may taste
The Pleasure of divulging.
For what her Kisses gain o'er Night,
Next Day she must discover,
And, with a cautious Hint, recite
The pleasing Secret over.
If bawdy, then her neighb'ring Dame
Receives the Jest with Laughter,
And wonders how my Lady came
Thus privy to the Matter.
If weighty, then amaz'd she stands,
Tho' with the News delighted;
And lifting up her Eyes and Hands,
Cries, Madam, I am frighted.
Thus 'tis from one to one reveal'd,
Tho' 'twas to go no further;
'Till what each vow'd should be conceal'd,
Be publish'd, tho' it's Murder.
Fine Ladies, well as tatling Drabs,
Conform to Female Custom;
For Heav'n has made all Women Blabs,
To warn us how we trust 'em.

64

The Widow's Lawyer, in his Wine,
As he a Bond was making,
With Know one Woman, did begin,
The common Form mistaking.
Says she, O! fie, your Bond is lame,
It should have been All Men, Sir.
With that he looks upon the Dame,
And makes this witty Answer.
Says he, I've made it right and Just;
For if one Woman knows it,
'Tis very plain, that all Men must,
For she will soon disclose it.

65

From the Spinning-Wheel, to the Coach:

OR, Golden Joan made his Worship's Lady.


70

The 'Squire that leads a rural Life
Among his Hounds and Horses,
And takes a Country Joan to Wife,
To join their wealthy Purses;
Had best be careful how he brings
Her rosy Cheeks to London,
Lest, by fine Men, and pretty Things,
The giddy Fool be undone.

71

For Madam will the Spark admire,
Whose Gallantry's exceeding,
And quit her surly Country 'Squire,
For Beau of nicer Breeding.
He's wise, that thinks his Wife is true
To Vertue, and to Honour;
But he's the wiser of the two,
That keeps an Eye upon her.
Convenient Time, and proper Place,
With him that knows to flatter,
In Spite of Modesty and Grace,
Will cause her Chaps to water.
For holy Wedlock's but a Kind
Of lawful Obligation,
That is not strong enough to bind
A Woman's Inclination.
When lovely Objects do appear,
Their fickle Hearts will wander;
And as Temptation draws more near,
Forget the Vows they're under.
Therefore, since Wives, altho' debarr'd
By Wedlock, yet will do it;
Let's be our selves their Vertue's Guard,
But never let 'em know it.

72

High Birth, but no Fortune:

OR, The Depending Lady.


78

If highly bred, tho' at others Cost,
How Madam makes a Pudder,
Altho' she nothing has to boast,
Besides her Tongue and Udder:
This is not good enough to wear,
Nor that to please her Palate,
Altho' her Fortune is so bare,
She scarce deserves a Vallet.
Yet, highly born, she hopes at least
To be my Lady Kath'rine,
Tho' the proud taudry Flirt, at best,
Is but a worthless Slattern.
What, tho' she young and airy be,
And has her Share of Beauty,
She's born with too much Quality,
In Wedlock to be true t'ye.
Th'ambitious Madam seldom loves
The Blockhead that she marries;
And tho' with Child she never proves,
She very oft miscarries.

79

For Beauty, who can boast no Gold,
Seeks out for some rich Tony;
The gouty Fool that's lame and old,
May buy her with his Money.
But when he'as done, not all his Wealth
Will to his Bed secure her;
She'll have a handsom Spark, by Stealth,
To do her Business for her.
Like Flies about a Honey-pot,
The Beaus will flock about her,
And quickly make him curse his Lot,
And wish himself without her.

80

The Fashionable Bawd:

OR, The Lady's Confident.


86

When Lust inflames a Woman's Breast,
And fires her Inclination,
She's not alone content to taste
The Sweets of Generation.
But when she'as oft the Bliss enjoy'd,
A farther Itch arises,
And makes her fond to be employ'd
In others secret Vices:
For she that once has taken Man,
Hates Lovers should be idle,
And is for chaining all she can,
Like Monkeys, by the Middle:
Judging, by'rself, the Brisk and Blith
Are all inclin'd, by Nature,
To have a Fellow-feelling with
Their amorous Fellow-Creature.
She smiles to hear my Lady cant
Of Honour so precisely,
And thinks she ploughs with some Gallant,
But that she does it wisely:

87

Well knowing 'tis a common Blind,
For Women to be railing
Against that pleasing Sin, they find
To be the most prevailing.
Therefore, the humble Punk is proud
To see her lofty Betters,
Who talk so much of being good,
As bad as other Creatures:
Turns Bawd and Pimp, that she may tell
Convincing pretty Stories,
To prove her Grace-Intrigues, as well
As Phillis, or as Chloris.

88

The Great Man's Prostitute:

OR, The Original of an Actress taken into Keeping.


95

When Beauty does adorn the Lass
In poor dejected Station,
'Tis seldom 'company'd with Grace,
For want of Education.
Tho' Nature has been greatly kind,
And all her Pow'r exerted,
Yet, where there wants a vertuous Mind,
Those Blessings are perverted.
The Son, by an ill Father bred,
One copies from the other;
Nor will fair Looks preserve the Maid
From proving like her Mother.
And he that's am'rously inclin'd
T'ingross the fickle Creature,
Will find no Love or Gold will bind
The Baseness of her Nature.
She's mix'd with such a course Allay,
That Art can ne'er refine her,
And thinks 'tis witty to betray
The Fool that glories in her:

96

For who can be accounted wise,
Tho' ne'er so rich and noble,
That's drawn by such a Harlot's Eyes,
To be a Keeping-Bubble?
If Men of Honour must be lewd,
And will be Womens Cullies,
Let 'em not mix their noble Blood
With Scoundrels bred in Alleys;
But, with young City Dames, engage
The Spawn of broken Mayors,
And not corrupt the Royal Stage
To th'Scandal of the Players.

97

Miss Buxom:

OR, The Golden-lock'd Lady unmarry'd.


103

'Tis not ill Company alone
That draws us into Evil,
Some are to Vice by Nature prone,
Untempted by the Devil.
Some Female Looks too plainly shew
A whorish Inclination,
Nor can they hide it from our View,
By vertuous Education:
Their Eyes, the Index of the Mind,
Will still disclose their Failing,
And shew to all that are not blind,
How Nature is prevailing.
The Phisnomist the Signs of Grace,
In vertuous Look discovers
The Gallows in a Villain's Face,
And Leach'ry in a Lover's.
So does the sanguine Lass denote
Her Lust by her Complexion,
And that she's rank as Stable-Goat,
And full of fond Affection.

104

From Stars, Astrologers aver
We draw our Inclinations,
And that all Women subject are
To sublunar Mutations.
If Stars have such a fatal Pow'r
On those, who are so naught here,
Then Venus is a greater Whore,
Than ever yet I thought her:
She's painted too with Golden-Hair
Dishrevil'd down her Boddice,
To shew most yellow Ladies are
As lustful as their Goddess.

105

Modern Quality:

OR, The Upstart Lady.


111

Honour , the Just should only bear,
Tho' Knaves and Harlots court it;
And ought not to be plac'd, but where
There's Merit to support it.
'Twas not design'd for Dames to wear,
Bred to the Pot and Ladle;
The Hog or Sow, tho' fat and fair,
Will ill become a Saddle.
Honour should drop, when Vertue fails,
And cease when we misuse it;
Not be so fix'd to Ladies Tails,
That do so oft abuse it.
Then might the Danger of Disgrace
Make sinful Pleasures hated,
And padlock up that slip'ry Place,
Wher Female Honour's seated.
Proud Ladies then might vertuous prove,
To keep their lofty Titles,
And not persue what now they love
Much better than their Victuals.

112

But what great Dame will want her Fill
Of Pleasures that she prizes,
When Ladies shall be honour'd still,
In Spight of all their Vices?
Since Fortunes are such Jilts and Shrews,
Whom Friends bestow much Cost on,
And prove as bad, or worse, than those,
Who have no Bags to boast on.
I'll praise the Dame with Vertue blest,
Altho' her Fortune's little,
Who wears her Honour in her Breast,
And not in empty Title.

113

The Hospitable House-keeper:

OR, The Bountiful Lady.


117

My Lady's Honour, if she's lewd,
Is but an airy Bubble;
'Tis Vertue, not her boasted Blood,
That makes a Woman noble.
A wanton Harlot we have seen
Advanc'd to be a Dutchess;
And many a lustful Persian Queen
Were subject to Debauches.
Therefore, since Lady-Punks, we find
In ev'ry lofty Station;
None but the chast and noble Mind,
Deserves our Admiration.
For what vain Mortal would regard
My Lady's boasted Honour,
When fifty more, besides my L---,
Her Woman swears, have known her?
Yet Poets make such now-a-days,
As chast as bright Diana;
But I'd as soon bestow my Praise
On lustful Messilana.

118

Man may commend a Common-Shore,
That every Scoundrel uses;
But still a Whore will be a Whore,
In Spite of all the Muses.
Therefore, were I to shew my Skill,
I'd praise my good old Countess;
And in the smoothest Numbers, tell
Her Vertues, and her Bounties.
The Graces of her noble Mind,
Would be a Theme uncommon;
But who, among the Sex, can find
So excellent a Woman?
The End of the first Part.