But if amongst us there should chance to be, One silly fond regardless foolish She, That spight of all our Edicts will maintain A League with that detested Creature Man: Good Counsels first shall strive to bring her off, But if the Fool will that good Counsel scoff, If she the freedom of her Sex will leave, And love a Wretch she knows that will deceive, From Pity well exempt the Female Sot, That wretched Thing a Husband be her Lot.

The Fourteenth Comfort

Jealous by Day, and Impotent by Night, Have neither Shape nor Mein to please the Sight Diseas'd in Body, and deform'd in Soul, Conceited, Proud, yet all the while a Fool: May she with him spin out a tedious Life, Blest with that much admir'd Title, Wife. And may no Female better Fate partake, That prophane the wholsome Laws we make.

The Fifteenth Comfort

And may the silly Maid that is so blind, } To trust Man's Oaths that are as false as Wind, } And only to her Ruin are design'd, } That thinks her Vertue is a Plague of Life, And will to cure it, yield as Whore or Wife. Find all the Ills that have before been said, And lose for endless Plauges her Maiden-head, Who will not bear what they infer a Pain, And laugh at all the base Delights of Men.

FINIS

THE FIFTEEN PLEASURES OF A VIRGIN

WRITTEN

By the suppos'd AUTHOR of

THE

Fifteen Plagues

OF A

Maidenhead

Virtus, repulsæ nescia fortidæ,

Intimitatis fulget honoribus. Hor. L. 3. Od. 1

LONDON: Printed in the Year, 1709

AN

APOLOGY

FOR

The Fifteen Plagues of a Maidenhead,

by the Imputed Author thereof

Suppose 'twas I, you thought, had drew my Pen On Virtue, see I fight for her agen; Wherefore, I hope my Foes will all excuse Th' Extravagance of a Repenting Muse; Pardon whate'er she has too boldly said, She only acted then in Masquerade; But now the Vizard's off, She's chang'd her Scene, And turns a Modest, Civil Girl agen; Let some admire the Fops whose Talent lie Inventing dull, insipid Blasphemy; I swear I cannot with those Terms dispence, Nor won't be Damn'd for the Repute of Sense; I cou'd be Bawdy much, and nick the Times, In what they dearly Love; damn'd Placket Rhimes; But that such Naus'ous Lines can reach no higher Than what the Cod-Piece or Buffoons inspire. To noble Satyr, I'll direct my Aim, And bite Mankind, and Poetry Reclaim; I'll ever use my Wit another Way, And next the Ugliness of Vice display. Yours, &c.

THE FIFTEEN P–S OF A VIRGIN

The first P–

In these unhappy and more wretched Days, Eclipsed with Debauchery and Plays! Virgins can scarce stir out, but some dull Fop, Impertinently kind, her way will stop, And almost force Her to some House of Sin, Her Innocence and Virtue to draw in; And if he can her Modesty invade, Glad with her Spoils and Trophies of a Maid, The Villain is the first that will complain Her foul Dishonour, and polluted Shame.

The Second P–

A Maid dispos'd to take the gentle Air, And to Grays-Inn, or Temple-Walks repair; No sooner enters she the Garden Gate, Sits down, and thinks of going e're 'tis late, But some insipid Squire having spy'd her, Takes Heart of Steel, and boldly squats beside her. He thus accosts her,—Madam, Ah! by Gad You're wond'rous Fair; but Lady, why so sad? Her Innocence he thinks will soon submit, To all the swagg'ring Tyrants of his Wit; But being strictly taught in Vertue's School, She does not only slight the prating Fool, Contemn'd his Actions, and his feigned Tone, But leaves the Lawyer strait to Curse alone.

The Third P–

The Maid that's Blessed with a beauteos Face, A gentile Air, and as genteel a Grace; On her some am'rous Beau soon casts his Eyes, And to obtain the much admired Prize; He fashionably dresses, struts, looks big, Like John of Gaunt, and in a pond'rous Wig; A subtle, sly, and cunning Ambuscade, For her Virginity is quickly laid; Of Love he tells a Thousand Fictious Tales, Till over her Discretion Lust prevails, But modest Maids, whose young and tender Hearts Unwounded yet, have the scap'd fatal Darts; Let the sad Fates of wanton Strumpets move, And learn by them to shun unlawful Love: Thus Virgins, if you'll Modesty embrace, By making all Allurements give you place: Virtue a Sanctuary e'er shall be Against the Quivers of Iniquity.

The Fourth P–

A Maid of honest, but mean Parents Born, These Times is only made the rich Man's scorn, Howe'er her Beauty tempting some young Spark He takes her to the Playhouse and the Park, Where he with many Imprecations vows, His Fortune and his Life to her he owes; But finding his Temptations are in vain, Her Company in Wrath he do's refrain; Which at the first may touch her tender Heart, And make her feel the force of Cupid's Dart; But Time and Absence Having made a Cure Of that same Plague she could not first endure. She says, as now I'm well, recite not then The Falshood and Deceit of Perjur'd Men, Virtue retain'd, that Man I'll ever slight, Whom I cannot by Marriage claim my Right.

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The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses From Women

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The Thirteenth Comfort