The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses From Women

THE FIFTEEN PLEASURES OF A VIRGIN

WRITTENBy the suppos'd AUTHOR ofTHEFifteen PlaguesOF AMaidenheadVirtus, repulsæ nescia fortidæ, Intimitatis fulget honoribus. Hor. L. 3. Od. 1LONDON: Printed in the Year, 1709ANAPOLOGYFORThe Fifteen Plagues of a Maidenhead,by the Imputed Author thereofSuppose 'twas I, you thought, had drew my PenOn Virtue, see I fight for her agen;Wherefore, I hope my Foes will all excuseTh' 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 lieInventing 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 higherThan 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 complainHer 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 GadYou'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 HeartsUnwounded 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 beAgainst 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 SparkHe 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 CureOf that same Plague she could not first endure.She says, as now I'm well, recite not thenThe 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 LoveToo 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 laidAgainst 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 knewWhat Mischief Venus or her Son cou'd do,The Seventh P–Where blindfold Fortune has been pleas'd to placeA 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 cameThey'll read a Wanton Epigram,The Ninth P–How many Sweethearts do these follow meWhose 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 InvadeMy 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 beOf 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 moreThan 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 saveA 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 moveMy 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.FINIS