A Peevish Husband makes a peevish Wife, And so brings Scandal on a Married Life. No wonder then if Sickness and Disease, Brought on by Crosses, doth the Body seize. All this is owing to a hair-brain'd Man, Whose base ill nature all the strife began. Then why shou'd Women thus be stil'd a Curse? When Man himself perhaps is ten times worse. Perhaps you'll say this is proposterous, In blaming others I my self expose. I Answer thus, if it was not for shame, I'd this same Minute quite disown the Name. For Men like you, their Names do sound no more, Than if you call'd an Honest Woman Whore.

FINIS

At the Pastry-School, over against the Compter in Shovel-Ally in Wood-street, near Cheapside; is Sold, a never failing Oyntment that Cures the GOUT, altho the Party be reduced to his Crutches, and that in two or three Days time; having often been found True by Experience, to the great Ease and Comfort of many: It also Cures Rheumatick Pains. Likewise a Cure for the Tooth-Ach, which Infallibly Cures without Drawing.

THE FIFTEEN COMFORTS OF WHORING, OR, THE PLEASURES OF A TOWN-LIFE

Dedicated to the Youth of the present Age

By the Author of the Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony

LONDON

Printed in the YEAR, 1706

The PREFACE

I am in a little pain lest the Title shou'd give Offence to some, whom I am unwilling to disoblige; yet I hope be more Judicious, when they see the design will allow it both their Pardon and Approbation: for 'tis more than a little odds, had I call'd it the Fifteen Plagues of Whoring, whether the young Gentlemen most concerned in it, would have given themselves the trouble to peruse it. As they are Children in their Actions, they must be dealt with like Children, and have their Horn-books Gi[*?] ou the back. This is all the Apology I have to make; which I hope the Moral will explain, and supply all else that might be said upon that Head. Among all other Debaucheries, as the principal, and leading Vice, I shall begin with Whoring.

The Fifteen Comforts of Whoring

The First Comfort of Whoring

No sooner Youth throws off his Infant Plays, The harmless Pastime of his happier Days But past a Child, is still in Judgement so, And studies first what he is not to know, Pleasure and Sence his easie Soul entice, Spurr'd forward by his Native Love to Vice: A Mistress now his Fancy entertains, And Youthful Vigour boils within his Brains. The poor lost Maid he do's with Oaths intice; And loads his Soul with twenty Thousand Lyes; Promises Marriage, Love, a hundred things, Till both himself and her, he to destruction brings. At length he finds his falsity repaid, And draws the Curse of Heaven on his Head.

The Second Comfort of Whoring

By this some Lewder Harlot is Carrest, Who plays the Tyrant in his Am'rous Breast; The Charming Syren touches e'ery String, To keep his busie Fancy on the Wing; All by her whiles, she binds her Captive fast, Sooths him at first, and bubbles him at last. To feed her Pride, clandestine means he'll take, Rob Friends, or Master; for the Harlot's sake, Still to the greatest Ill's he do's descend, And Ruin only; Ruin Seals his End.

The Third Pleasure of a Town Life

What Nature has not done, a Harlot will, (For sure Destruction is her boasted Skill: One Scarce to the full Bloom of Life attain'd, Before of Cramps and Aches he complains, Curses the Jilt—looks pale and wan withal: Wither'd like Fruit by their untimely fall, Go's thro' a hated Course of nauseous Pills, And spends a little thousand Pocky Bills: Perhaps at length he do's get free from pain, But the Effects on't all his Life remain.

The Fourth Pleasure of a Town Life

Another hardly does escape so well, From Purgatory he drops into Hell; Where like a branded Sacrifice he comes, And in the Flame the Harlot lit, consumes: Of Buboes, Nodes, and Ulcers he complains, Of Restless Days, and damn'd nocturnal Pains. Nor less than into six Weeks Flux he goes: Comes out a Shadow, pale and Meagre shews, If Heaven spare that Ornament his Nose: Thus all his Youthful Vigor's threwn away, And e're his time he dwindles to decay.

The Fifth Comfort of a Town Life

This married, settled in the Joys of Life, A handsom Trade, and an endearing Wife; Does yet a mind incontinent betray, And for a Night of Pleasure dearly pay: Having received a Favour from his Miss, He kindly gives it to a Friend of his: The Wife, (for that the Marriage Rites say still) Must bear a part both of the Good or Ill. She finds what pity 'tis she e'er had known, Since for no Crime, nor Pleasure of her own, Reveals it to him, knowing not at first, What might the Cause be—tho' she fear'd the worst. He strives to pacifie her twenty ways Blushes—or wou'd do if he'd any Grace. Tells Her the truth in Penetential strain, And vows he'll never do the like again, She weeps, forgives him all—but must endure, The manner, and the Charges of a Cure; Where One in twenty scarce so perfect be, But that they leave it to Posterity.

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The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses from Men

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Answer to the Fifteenth Mock Comfort