Chapter 2

Wou'd bounteous Heaven once more indulge, I'd chuse, (For, who wou'd so much satisfaction lose, As Witty Nymphs in Conversation give) Near some obliging modest-fair to live; For there's that sweetness in a female Mind, Which in a Man's we cannot find; That by a secret, but a pow'rful Art, } Winds up the Spring of Life, and do's impart } Fresh Vital Heat to the transported Heart, } I'd have her Reason, and her Passions sway, Easy in Company, in private Gay. Coy to a Fop, to the deserving free, Still Constant to her self, and Just to me. A soul she shou'd have for great Actions fit, Prudence, and Wisdom to direct her Wit. Courage to look bold danger in the Face, No Fear, but only to be Proud, or Base: Quick to advise by an Emergence prest, To give good Counsel, or to take the best. I'd have th' Expression of her Thoughts be such, She might not seem Reserv'd, nor talk too much; That shows a want of Judgment, and of Sense; More than enough is but Impertinence. Her Conduct Regular, her Mirth refind, Civil to Strangers, to her Neighbours kind. Averse to Vanity, Revenge and Pride; In all the Methods of Deceit untry'd: So faithful to her Friend, and good to all, No Censure might upon her Actions fall Then wou'd even Envy be compell'd to say, She goes the least of Woman kind astray.

To this fair Creature I'd sometimes retire, Her Conversation wou'd new Joys inspire. Give Life and Edge so keen, no surly Care } Wou'd venture to assault my Soul, or dare } Near my Retreat to hide one secret Snare. } But so Divine, so Noble a Repast. I'd seldom, and with Moderation caste. For highest Cordials all their Virtue lose, By a too freequent, and to bold an use; And what would cheer the Spirits in distress; Ruins our Health when taken to Excess.

I'd be concern'd in no litigious Jarr, Belov'd by, all not vainly popular: Whate'er Assistance I had power to bring T'oblige my Country, or to serve my King, Whene'er they call'd, I'd readily afford, My Tongue, My Pen, my Counsel, or my Sword. Law-suit I'd shun with as much Studious Care; As I wou'd Dens where hungry Lyons are; An rather put up injuries than be A Plague to him, who'd be a plague to me. I value Quiet at a Price too great, To give for my Revenge so dear a Rate: For what do we by all our bustle gain, But counterfeit Delight for real Pain.

If Heav'n a date of many years wou'd give, Thus I'd in Pleasure, Ease and Plenty live. And as I near approach'd the Verge of Life, Some kind Relation (for I'd have no Wife) Should take upon him all my Worldly Care, While I did for a better State prepare. Then I'd not be with any trouble vext. Nor have the Evening of my Days perplext. But by a silent, and a peaceful Death, Without a Sigh, Resign my Aged Breath: And when committed to the Dust, I'd have Few Tears, but Friendly drop'd into my Grave. Then wou'd my Exit so propitious be, All Men wou'd wish to live and dye like me.

_FINIS._

AN ANSWER TO THE PLEASURES OF A SINGLE LIFE: OR, THE COMFORTS OF MARRIAGE Confirm'd and Vindicated: With the Misery of Lying alone, prov'd and asserted.

_LONDON_, Printed for _M. Goodwin_, near _Fleet Street_, 1701.

AN ANSWER To the Pleasure of a Single LIFE, &c.

When from Dark nothing Heaven the World did make And all was Glorious it did undertake; Then were in _Eden's_ Garden freely plac'd, Each thing that's pleasant to the Sight and Tast; 'Twas fill'd with Beasts and Birds, Trees hung with Fruite That might with Man's Cealestal Humour suite. The World being made, both spacious and compleat, Then Man was form'd most Nobly and Great; When Heaven survey'd the Works that it had done, Saw Male and Female, but found Man alone, A baren Sex, and Insignificant, } Then God made Woman to supply the want, } And to make perfect which before was scant. } The Word no sooner spoke, but it was done; 'Cause 'twas not fit for Man to be alone; It was not in his power without a Wife, To reap the happy Fruites of human Life; Nay, more than this, Mankind long since had ceas'd, And now had been surviv'd by senceless Beast, He'd Slept and Wasted in obscurity, And Darkly perish'd in his Infancy. If Heaven, had not sent so blest a Creature, To be the Treasure house of human Nature; So the alwise Creator thought it best, That Man and Wife together might be blest: Appointed then immortal Bonds to tye, Two Hearts in one, with equal Amity; And so he than by his alwise Direction, Both Souls united with the like affection; So very sweetly and with such delight, The swiftest Winged Minutes take their flight, And thus Gods Love to Mankind did dispence, The sacred Wedlock, which did then commence: Not founded as some Criticks say, by chance; But Heaven it self, did this blest State advance. Not subject to the various Revolutions, Of fickle fading human Institutions. A Married Life was first contriv'd above, To be an Emblem of Eternal Love; And after by Divine indulgence sent, To be the Crown of Man, and Wife's content; Yet black Mouthed Envy Strives with all its might; To blast the Credit of that sacred Rite. The hard Mouth fops, a single Life applau'd, And hates a Woman, that woun't be a Baw'd: Nothing he values like a single Life, For tho he loves a Whore, he hates a Wife, Calls the poor Husband, Monkey, Ass or Dog, And Laughs because he wears the Wedlock Clogg, Yet freely they'l or'e tops of Houses Strolling, And venture Bones each Night a Caterwouling Expose himself to Falls, or Guns or Traps, } And twenty other unforeseen Mishaps, } All in his hot persuite of Whores and Claps. }

Thus single Sots, who Wedlock vainly slight, Are Slaves to Lust both Morning, Noon and Night Ruin their Health, their Honour and Estate, And buy Repentance at a curssed rate: While lawful Weded Couples spend their times, In happy charming Pleasures without Crimes, What greater Bliss, or Comfort in this Life, Can Man desire, but with a vertuous Wife: I'le with a Wife in lawful Wedlock sport, While you in Woods with Beastes of Prey resort: Your bawdy Books, your silent Consort be, While happy Man and Wife in Love agree, And both unite in mutual Harmonie. _Sodom_ for Sins like thine, by Fire was burn'd, And from a City to a Lake was turn'd; They Wedlock scornd, and Lust they made a Feast, And far out did the senceless Savage Beast, Even so, the shamless loathsom single Elff, Worse than the Beast makes _Sodom_ of himself; And then to lessen those his hateful Crimes, He Rails at Wedlock in confused Rhimes, Calls Woman Faithless, 'cause she woun't consent, To humour what his Brutish Thoughts invent; No wonder then, if with his poisonous Breath, He strives to Blacken the Brightest thing on Earth: Woman! by Heaven her very Name's a charm, And will my Verse against all Criticks Arm; She Comforts Man in all his Sweats and Toils, And richly pays his Pains, with Love and Smiles. 'Tis Woman makes the ravish'd Poet write; 'Tis lovly Woman makes the Souldier Fight: Should that soft Sex refuse the World to bless, 'Twould soon be turn'd into a Wilderness.

A cursed Crow'd without all civil Rules, A Herd of Drinking, Cheating, Fighting Fools; Confusion, Madness would or'e spread the Stage, And Man would be Destroy'd in one short Age; Here Man must own, tho scarce without a Blush, They rather do excel than Equal us; As useful and more nimble are their Powers, Their Judgments sharp, and sooner ripe than ours: Yet foul Mouth'd Scribler, makes a publick Scorn, On whom our great Redeemer he was Born; But Sir! the Bays, they are so much their due; They'l wear, inspite of impudence and you; You are so hateful cruel and unjust, To Load that Sex, with ugly brand of Lust: _Those whome deserved Slights and losses vex, Invent new Sins, and throw 'em on that Sex; Whose thrifty wickedness the Sex forsakes, He on these beauteous Fields a_ Sodom _makes: He ne're assaults but where the Walls are slight, True Bullies will with none but Cowards fight. A vertuous Woman values fame too high, } To let such Beastly Slaves her Walls come nigh, } And that's the cause, he's now her Enemy: } When the White flag you see by them hung out. You then are wonderous daring bold and stout, When once you but discover those within, By their faint fire, have a low magazine. A slender stock of Chastity in store, } Your Oathes and Curses then like Cannon roar } You Devil like; cry out a Whore, a Whore; } But if a vertuous Wife you tempt in vain, Who doth resist you with deserv'd disdain: And forc'd to leave her with dispair and shame, } Your Poisonous Tongue at least will blast her Fame, } If her you can't; you'l ruin her good Name. }

Is this the single Life you boast so much, Are these the Charmes, that does your Fancy tutch, Are these the Blessings which you have enjoy'd, Are these the arts your lustful thoughts imploy'd; 'Tis plain your roving fancy is far worse, Than that Blest state which you esteem a Curse; You make it so by your insatiate mind, Unbounded lust can never be confin'd. It is a Riddle which I can't unfould That any Man, can such base notions hold, Disgrace all order, Marriage Bed defy And gives Mankind and God himself the lye, It is a shame, that any Man of Sense, Should have so damn'd a_ stock _of Impudence; Controul his Maker; and with his Laws dispence. Blasphemeous wretch, the scorn of human race, The very spawn of what is vile and base: Who with your cursed pen, you're not afraid To cross the end for which Mankind was made; Alas! what could poor helpless Man have done If he had been to live on Earth alone,_ He'd been the worst of all God's vast Creation, And sunk below the sence of procreation: He'd muddl'd out his Days in private fear, And when in sorrow none with him to share: The Birds and Beasts each other chose his Mate, And are above the stint of single Fate; The whole Creation, hate's a single Life, And shall not Man enjoy a loving Wife? Sure this Wife Hater, lately came from Hell To teach poor single Mortals to rebel, Against the sacred Laws of God and Man From whence the state of Wedlock first began, To make our Minds diviner charmes to suite, Which makes the differance 'twixt a Man and Bruite; But this blasphemous Scribler tramples down, These antient Fences; of such great renown, And Lanshes forth among the Shelves and Rocks And plead's for plagues of single Life and Pox: He Courts in Print, all others to be Lewd, Condemns a Wife and swears he will be rude: He talks of Roving from each Pole, to Pole, And with fresh lustful pleasures drown his Soul: He calls that ease, which Christians counts a Sin, And walks the Road which Thives and Rogues go in: He plainly tells how he does spend his time His lazey progress, shewes what is his Crime His baudy Books, with Calves skin fenced round, A proof enough, wherein his faults abound. He talks of moderation or'e a Glass } But mentions none of that when with his Lass, } He's Knave in Grain; a Blockhead and an Ass. } Because a Cuckold's Life was his hard fate, Must Wedlock be abused at this rate? Because he had a strumpit for his Wife, He now commends a mopish single Life. Let him content himself to live a Drone, In some dark Corner of the World alone; And trouble not his Brains with our blest State, Which now is far above his wretched fate; He talks of prayers a little while before, And then he curss'd his Wife and call'd her whore. Oh! meddley of confusion, never worse, Must pray, then swear, give thanks to God and curse. The Wife he lost, has faults as black as Hell. } He sets her off, with a most dismal smell, } But not one silible of his own he'l tell. }

He owns his Cuckoldom, and which is worse; How then the Cuckold su'd out his Divorce: No doubts, the Wife, that he has Abdicated, (Had he been good,) her ills had been abated: But Women when provok'd, without a Cause, They like enraged subjects, breaks the Lawes: His Whip and Spur, was too unkindly us'd; The weaker Vessel must not be abus'd. If he too strictly held her by the reins, He must accept the Cuckold for his pains.

Farewel, thou scandal of a married Life, Thou single Fop, grand Hater of a Wife; Thou Plague to Churches, and to Women too, 'Tis time for either, to have done with you: No more attempt, Heavens Laws for to confute, No more advise Mankind, to be a Bruite; _But spend they Days in some dark, lonesome Cave, And to thy bruitish Lust be still a Slave._ Go sneak in some vile Corner of the Earth, With Pox and Plagues, resign thy poisonous Breath, And may the worst of Torturs be thy Death.

_FINIS._

THE Ladies Choice: A POEM.

LONDON

Printed, and Sold by _J. How_, and _B. Bragg_, at the _Blew-Ball_ in _Avemary-Lane_, next _Ludgate-Street_, 1702.

THE LADIES CHOICE.

_Melissa Belinda._

Melissa.

Prithee, _Belinda_ (for thou know'st I'm Young, Unskill'd in Arts that to our Sex belong) Thy wiser Counsels to my Youth impart; Teach me at once to _Love_, and _Guard_ my Heart; That I have _Wit_, can _Sing_ and _Dance_ you know, And the Men tell me I am Pretty too; I now have Fifteen pleasing Summers seen, And have been Courted by twice Fifteen Men; Still fresh Pretenders do my Peace Invade, They _Write_, they _Visit, Sigh_ and _Serenade_, And try allways to Catch a Harmless Maid.

Then since our Virgin Thoughts are apt to Rove, And few escape that Noble Passion _Love_, Teach me, _Belinda_, by thy Arts to Chuse What Suiters to Admit, and which Refuse._

_Belinda._

_Melissa_, I am glad you're so Discreet, } For, that to more Experience you'll submit, } Argues your want of _Vanity_, not _Wit_. }

And yet, my Dear, 'tis difficult t' Advise, } _Fools_ are so Plenty, and so Scarce the _Wise_: } To judge of Men, we shou'd not Trust our Eyes; } Outward Appearance may Delude the Sight; Nor is it good to gaze too near the Light: For tho' your _Beauty_, like a Painted Scene, May Dang'rous prove to the Vile Race of Men, Who at the greater distance do Admire, And shun the heat of Love's Important Fire. Whose _Little God_, like lesser Thieves, unseen, } Steals to our Hearts, we scarce know how or when, } His _Standard_ hoists and Guards the Fort Within; } Then like a Tyrant does our Peace Controul, And absolutely Lords it o'er the Soul: Thus, with your _Heart_, your _Fortune_ he'll Dispose: He does the _Man_, you but the _Husband_ chuse. And tho' a _Fool_, you must the _Wretch_ receive; For where we _Love_, we soon our Persons give.

Therefore, _Melissa_, wisely Guard your Heart; What _Nature_ won't defend, defend by _Art_:

Shun, I advise you, most Devoutly shun, Those _Servile Apes_ that swarm about the Town; _Pert, Noisie Coxcombs, Self-admiring Beaux_, Known by their _want_ of _Wit_, and _Gawdy Cloaths_:

Of all the Creatures Nature does provide, To stock the World from _Ignorance_ to _Pride_; Of all that from her various Bosom spring, A _Beau_ I think the oddest kind of thing; A selfish Compound, singular, and Vain, Half _Ass_, half _Puppet_, and the least of _Man_; One that seems just for Nature's Pastime made, A _Gawdy_ Carcass, with an _Empty Head_; Whose only _Knowledge_ lies in _modish Dress_, And seldom looks much further than his Glass. A Creature only Govern'd by his Will; And never _Reads_ above a _Taylors Bill_; A Wretch extreamly _Whimsical_ and _Proud_, Stiff in _Opinion, Talkative_ and _Loud_; And that which most Compleatly Arms the _Fool_, Is, That the _Fop's_ Emphatically dull. That such, _Melissa_, may Address, 'tis true, Write a soft _Song_, or senseless _Billetdoux_, But 'tis _Themselves_ they _Admire_ in't, not _You_: And she that's basely Yok'd with one of these, Must e'en be Wedded to his _Vanities_; Doat on a _Thing_ that scarce deserves a Name, While he with _Slights_ rewards her Vertuous Flame: For tell me, can he less _Indifferent_ prove, Who thinks no Woman can Deserve his Love? No, no, _Melissa_, never think he can; For if you do, you're Cozen'd in your Man.

Self-Affectation sways his little Sense; Nought but _Himself_ he Loves, and _Ignorance_. By fatal Chance, if such a Man you Wed, Better, _Melissa_, thou had'st Dy'd a Maid: Ev'n such a Lover, were a Plague too great; From such a Husband, Guard me, Oh my Fate!

Shun too, my Dear, the _Lewder Wits_ o' th' Town, As watchfully as they'd avoid a Dun. For such a Man too soon wou'd let you see, _Lewdness_ and _Marriage_ do but ill Agree. Oft at the Theatre such Sparks I've seen, } With _Rakish Looks, half Drunk_, come Reeling in; } Tossing their _Wigs_, their _Backs_ against the Scene. } Regardless of the Play (a Mark of Wit) Bow to some Lewd Companion in the Pit. Take Snuff, fling round, in the Side-Box be seen, Whisper a Mask, and then Retire again, To some Lov'd _Tavern_, where's their chief Delight, } There in Debaucheries they spend the Night, } Then Stagger homeward by the Morning Light. }

Thus the Extravagant squanders his Estate, Scarce e'er Consid'ring till it be too late: And then a _Wife_ must Cure the dang'rous Sore, A _Fortune_ too, his _Acres_ must Restore; The Woman Found, is by Addresses won; They're _married_: He's _profuse_, and she's _undone_. The Wound once heal'd, he soon forgets the Pain, And takes the Trade of _Lewdness_ up again: In Vicious Days and Nights his Life is spent; The _Pleasure_ his, but her's the _Punishment_; For now the Heav'n she Dreamt of, proves her Hell, Whose only _Fault_ was Loving him too well. Pensive all Day she sits; all Night alone; She does her slighted Love, but more his Loss bemoan. By kind Endearments Fraught with Innocence, She strives to soften his Impenitence; Fain wou'd she turn him from the winding Maze, Win him to Love, and be the same he was; But Vain her Sighs; her Prayers, her Tears are Vain, } She might as soon her _Freedom_ re-obtain, } As think to Mollifie th' obdurate Man. } Who like her Person, slights the fond Advice, } And when with Love she wou'd his Soul Entice, } Flies from her Arms, and Revels in his Vice; } Till she, alas, foreseeing what must come, Consents, and with the little left he packs her home.

Of such I give thee Caution to beware, } Fly 'em, _Melissa_, like a Tim'rous Hare, } That Strains along the Vales t'avoid the Hunters Snare. }

And from a Soldier too, thy flight direct; In his Rough Arms, what can a Maid expect; Long Absent days, and tedious Widow'd Nights: Are those the Marriage Joys, the vasts Delights We promise to our selves, with him we Love? Or shall we else such Constant Creatures prove, To leave our Country, and turn Fugitive: Follow the Camp, and with the Wanderer Live. 'Mongst War-like sounds our softer hours to pass, Scorch in the Sun, and Sleep upon the Grass: No, no, _Melissa_, 'tis an Auxious Life; Honour's his Mistress; let it be his Wife.

No Man of Bus'ness let thy Heart approve; Bus'ness is oft an Enemy to Love: Nor think, my Dear, thou canst be truly blest With one that's _Wedded_ to his Interest. Worldly Affairs does his Affections cloy, _As that which shou'd preserve it, does destroy._ 'Twixt two Extreams you wretchedly must Live, Or bad, or worse, as his Affairs do Thrive; Whose good or ill Success, must be the Rule, One makes him Insolent, and t'other Dull.

Let no Aspiring Courtier be thy Choice; Avoid in Courts, the Bustle and the Noise; Where Vain _Ambition_ hurries on the Mind, And always leaves more solid Joys behind: As when the _Thrifty Clown_, securely Blest, His _Barns_ with _Plenty_, with _Content_ his _Brest_, Possest with hopes of a long lost Estate, In haste forsakes his humble harmless Seat. With Bagg and Bundle, Trots it up to Town, } There wildly Gapes, and wanders up and down, } And's kept in _Ignorance_ till he's undone. } Some weighty Sums receiv'd for _Corn_ and _Cheese_, Are _Spent_ in _Treats_, and _Giv'n_ away in _Fees_. Mean while the _Lawyer_ so well Acts his Part, } With empty Pockets, and an Aking Heart, } He sends him home again to Plow and Cart. }

So the _Gay Youth_ does Lavish his Estate, And bribes into the Favour of the _Great_; Prefer'd he sits like Fortunes Darling Son, To's Friends, and what he was, a Stranger grown; Till soon some turn of a Revolving State, Leaves him to Curse _Ambition_, and his Fate; Threaten'd with Want, perhaps the Youngster Writes, And Lives (or rather Starves Genteely) by his Wits.

Therefore, _Melissa_, Guard thee from surprize; Let none of these betray thee, if thou'rt Wise; Let not their Songs, nor Sighs, thy Soul Entice. But if thou wou'dst be happy in thy Choice, Above 'em all, a Gentleman prefer; One free from Bus'ness, undisturb'd with Care; Yet in the Publick Good (without Vile ends) To serve his Country, and his Countries Friends: Travel his Understanding shou'd improve; For as it helps his Knowledge, 'twould his Love. As to his Person, 'tis not to advise; All Women see not with the self-same Eyes. In that you might your own Opinion use, Your Heart wou'd teach you; but were I to chuse, He shou'd not be Effeminate or Proud, (I hate the Man that is by Pride subdu'd). In us I Grant a little Pride may be, Much less a Crime (and may with Sense agree) A Gift alone for our own Sex design'd, To awe the loose Opinions of Mankind; Who quickly else more Insolent wou'd grow: 'Tis Vertue's Guard, and Aids our Beauties too.

A Gay Appearance shou'd not make me err; I wou'd the Beauties of the Mind prefer. Among the Few, I'd have a Man of Sense, Endu'd with Modesty and Temperance; Not with a great, and yet a good Estate; Not too much Learning, nor Illiterate, And yet he shou'd (avoiding each extream) Know more of Man, than Man shou'd know of him. Be Gen'rous and Well-bred, but not Profuse; Not giv'n to Flattery, nor to take th' Abuse: Gentile his Carriage, and his Humour such, Shou'd speak him Sociable, but no Debauch. A Lover of his Country, and a Friend to Wit Read _Poetry_ he shou'd, but shou'd not write; His Temper Lively, not to _Wildness_ bent, His Talk Diverting, and yet Innocent; Not Unreserv'd, nor yet too Nicely Wise, Apter to Bear, than Offer Injuries; Courage enough his Honour to defend, But Constant in his Love, and Faithful to his Friend.

This is the Man I'd to my Heart prefer; } Such Men, _Melissa_, well deserve our Care; } You'll say they're Scarce, and I must grant they are. } Yet I resolve by such a Man, or none, (Unless by Love betray'd) I will be won.

But were I Woo'd by the _Embellish'd Youth_; His Soul susceptible of Love and Truth: By easie steps he shou'd attain my Heart, By all the Proofs of Breeding, Wit, and Art. Then like some Town, by _War-like Numbers_ sought, That long against its Enemies has fought, And oft with Courage brav'd the _shining Field_, } Yet in the end by Want or Force compell'd, } It does with Honour to the _Conqueror_ Yield. }

So to my Lover I'd my Heart resign, The Conquest his, the Glory should be mine. With mutual Love my Nuptials shou'd be Blest, } Then to my Arms I'd call the Welcome Guest, } And Celebrate with Joy great _Hymen_'s Feast. }

Marriage is Bondage, but where _Cupid_ Reigns, The Yoke is easie; Glorious are the Chains: His Fetters please, nor wish we to be Free, But Glory in the Loss of Liberty: And yet but half our Thanks we owe the Boy, He gives us Love, 'tis _Hymen_ gives us Joy; Well might the Poets feign those Gods a-kin, For we are only Happy where they join. As when _Aurora_ does the Bridal Morn, With an uncommon Gayety Adorn From its Illustrious Pride with ease we may Foretel the Brightness of the coming Day: So when true Love the Sacred Tye precedes, Secure of Happiness that Couple weds; No Threat'ning Storms do e'er Molest their Joy, Nor Anxious Quarrels do their Peace destroy; Their days slide on in the securest ease, And Circle in Eternal Rounds of Bliss.