Clo. Why dost thou all Address deny? Hard-hearted Parthenisea, why? See how the trembling Lovers come, That from thy Lips expect their Doom. Par. Cloris! I hate them all, they know, Nay I have often told them so; Their silly Politicks abhorr'd: I scorn to make my Slave my Lord. Clo. But Strephon's Eyes proclaim His Love Too brave, Tyrannical to prove. Par. Ah Cloris! when we lost our Power? We must obey the Conqueror. Clo. Yet when a gentle Prince bears sway, It is no Bondage to Obey. Par. But if like Nero, for a while, With Arts of Kindness he beguile, How shall the Tyrant be withstood, When he has writ his Laws in Blood? Clo. Love (Parthenisea) all commands, it fetters Kings in charming Bands; Mars yields his Arms to Cupid's Darts, And Beauty softens Savage Hearts. Par. Well may you choose to be a Wife, I'll still retain a Single Life.

The Sixth P–

Rid of a Coxcomb, next a Siege is laid Against the weak Repulses of a Maid, By one that keeps a Coach and Lackies too, And that he might his wicked Plots pursue, In gawdy Dress he would her Heart surprize, with Gold to dazle her too watchful Eyes; But Vertue cherishing her Virtuous Breast, With so much Innocence which made her blest, Her Innocence as hitherto ne'er knew What Mischief Venus or her Son cou'd do,

The Seventh P–

Where blindfold Fortune has been pleas'd to place A Virgen with a Master void of Grace, With Foot, with Hand, or Eyes, he'll Tokens speak, The Signs deny, these Assignations make; Thinks she shall be as pliant to his Use, As Strumpets on a Cornival let loose; But if she's Chast, his Miss she will not be, Unless she is as Fiend, and Base as he.

The Eighth P–

A Negro Courting onto a maid, That was most Fair; to him she said, Thy Ink, my Papper, make me guess, Our Nuptial Bed will make a Press, And to our Sports, if any came They'll read a Wanton Epigram,

The Ninth P–

How many Sweethearts do these follow me Whose fell Design I know's to Ruine me; but let me banish this forbidden Fire, Or quench it with my Blood, or with't expire; Unstain'd in Honour; and unhurt in Fame, I'll never blast Virginity Shame,

The Tenth P–

A Sailor vowing he would all his Life, Be true to me, he took another Wife; whose Folshood (not as e're he did Invade My Honour) made me sick, and, dying, said, Ah now at my last Hour I gasping lie: Let only my kind Murtherer be by, Let him, while I breath out my Soul in Sighs, Or gaz't away, look on with pitying Eyes; Let him (for sure he can't deny me this) Seal my cold Lips with one dear parting Kiss.

The Eleventh P–

To have a Sweetheart once it was my Fate, Whom much I lov'd, and now as much do hate, Fo going to be coupled for my Life, He was took from me by a former Wife; Henceforwards I shall ever cautious be Of Marrying one, a Stranger unto me.

The Twelfth P–

A Sweetheart whom I lov'd, and he lov'd me, Intoxicated with Cursed Jealousie, Without a Cause, my Innocence did slight, Which urged soon my Passion thus to write, Kind Health, which you, and only you can grant, Which, if deny'd, I must for ever want; To you your Lover sends; but blushing Shame, In silence bids my Paper hide my Name. Witness what Pains (for you alone can know) Poor helpless I do bear and undergo; A thousand Racks and Martyrdoms, and more Than a weak Virgin can be thought, I bore: You rule alone my Arbitrary Fate, And Life and on your disposal wait. How little more remains for me to crave! How little more for you to give! O save A wretched Maid undone by Love and you, Who does in Tears and dying Accents sue; Who bleeds that Passion she had ne'er reveal'd, If not by Love, Almighty Love compell'd: No ever let her mournful Tomb complain, Here Phillis, kill'd by your cold Disdain; And to her Honour let it e'er be said, She dy'd a faithful Lover, yet a Maid.

The Thirteenth P–

Blessed with Beauty, Money, Youth and Wit, I'm daily plagu'd with some Penurious Cit, But e'er I will to such be forc'd to yield, To a Man of Sense I Will resign the Field, For Men of Breeding more of Love can show, Than dull Mechanicks e'er can learn or know.

The Fourteenth P–

A Maid can scarce into a Service get, But Prentice Boys (void both of Sense and Wit) Will lead the Servant such a tedious Life, To Change the Name of Maid to that of Wife, That she, to shun their solid Impudence, Must leave her Service in her own Defence.

Fifteenth P–

What spiteful Star, when I was Born did Rule, That I'm thus teazed with a whining Fool, Which is the very worst of Fools; for he, Got in a Stran of dull Simplicity, Crys, Agdes! See my looks, my wishing Eyes, My melting Tears and hear my begging Sighs; About your Neck I could have flung my Arms, And been all over Love, all over Charms; Grasp and hang on your K–, and there have dy'd, There breath my gasping Soul out tho' deny'd. My earnest Suits shall never give you rest, While Life and Love more durable shall last; Alive I'll Pray, 'till Breath in Pray'rs be lost, And after come a kind beseeching Ghost. He thought these soft Expressions soon might move My Heart, which was bequeath'd before to Love, No, no, these whiedling Fops I really hate, And since I am resolv'd to change my State, A Man of Wit and Sense I do adore, To him I grant my Favours and my Store, As certain Wedlock with so good a Choice, May make my Judgment, whilst I live rejoice.

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The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses From Women

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The Fifth P–, in a Dialogue betwixt Cloris

and Parthenisea