The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses From Women

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.
 

The Fifth P–, in a Dialogue betwixt Cloris

and Parthenisea

 
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,