i A1r

Female Advocate:

or, an

A Late Satyr
The Pride, Luſt and Inconſtancy, &c.

Written by a Lady in Vindication of her Sex.

Licens’d, 1686-06-02June 2. 1686. R.P.

London: Printed by H.C. for John Taylor, at the Globe in
St. Pauls-Church-Yard. 16861686.

ii A1v iii A2r

To the Reader.

That which makes many Books come abroad into the World without Prefaces, is, the only Reaſon that incites me to one, viz. the Smalneſs of them; being willing to let my Reader know why this is ſo: For as one great Commendation of our Sex, is, to know much, and ſpeak little, ſo my Virgin-Modeſty hath put a Period to the intended Length of the enſuing Lines, leſt cenſuring Criticks ſhould meaſure my Tongue by my Pen, and condemn me for a Talkative, by the length of my Poem. Tho’ I confeſs the Illuſtrious Subject requires (nay commands) an enlargement from any other Pen than mine (or thoſe under the ſame Circumſtances) but I think it is good Frugality for young Beginners to ſend forth a ſmall Venture at first, and ſee how that paſſes the mercileſs Ocean of Criticks, and what Returns it makes, and ſo accordingly adventure the next time. I might enlarge this Preface with the common Excuſe of Writers for the Publication of their Books, viz. the Importunities of her obliging Friends: But what it was put me upon the Publication of this, I am not bound to give the Reader an Account of; but I think the Debauchery which I now anſwer, is a ſufficient warrant for this appearing of mine; in which he doth not only exclaim againſt Virtue, but Moral Honeſty too, and would (were it alone ſufficient) baniſh A2 all iv A2v all Goodneſs out of them; but that will be an impoſſible thing, ſo long as we (the moſt eſſentially good) do ſubſiſt: for ’tis obſerved in all Religions, that Women are the trueſt Devotioniſts, and the most pious, and more heavenly than thoſe who pretend to be the moſt perfect and rational Creatures; for many Men with the Conceit of their own Perfections, neglect that which ſhould make them ſo; as ſome miſtaken perſons, who think if they are of the right Church they ſhall be infallibly ſaved, when they never follow the Rules which lead to Salvation; and when Perſons with this Inſcription paſs currant in Heaven, then it will be according to my Antagoniſt’s Fancy, that all Men are good, and fitting for Heaven becauſe they are Men; and Women irreverſibly damn’d, becauſe they are Women: But that Heaven ſhould make a Male and Female, both of the ſame Species, and both indued with the like Rational Souls, for two ſuch differing Ends, is the moſt notorious Principle, and the moſt unlikely of any that ever was maintained by any Rational Man, and I ſhall never take it for an Article of my Faith, being aſſured that Heaven is for all thoſe whoſe Purity and Obedience to its Law, qualifies them for it, whether Male or Female; to which Place the latter ſeem to have the Claim, is the Opinion of one of its Votaries,


01 A3r

The Female Advocate,

or An Anſwer to a late Satyr againſt the Pride, Luſt and Inconſtancy, &c. of Woman.

Blaſphemous Wretch, thou who canſt think or ſay

Some Curſt or Baniſht Fiend uſurp’t the way

When Eve was form’d; for then’s deny’d by you

Gods Omniſcience and Omnipreſence too:

Without which Attributes he could not be,

The greateſt and ſupreameſt Deity:

Nor can Heaven ſleep, tho’ it may mourn to ſee

Degenerate Man utter Blaſphemy.

When from dark Chaos Heav’n the World did make,

Made all things glorious it did undertake;

Then it in Eden’s Garden freely plac’d

All things pleaſant to the Sight or Taſte,

Fill’d it with Beaſts & Birds, Trees hung with Fruit,

That might with Man’s Celeſtial Nature ſuit:

The World being made thus ſpacious and compleat,

Then Man was form’d, who ſeemed nobly great.

When 02 A3v 2

When Heaven ſurvey’d the Works that it had done,

Saw Male and Female, but found Man alone,

A barren Sex, and inſignificant;

So Heaven made Woman to ſupply the want,

And to make perfect what before was ſcant:

Then ſurely ſhe a Noble Creature is,

Whom Heaven thus made to conſummate all Bliſs.

Though Man had Being firſt, yet methinks She

In Nature ſhould have the Supremacy;

For Man was form’d out of dull ſenceleſs Earth;

But Woman ſhe had a far nobler Birth:

For when the Duſt was purify’d by Heaven,

Made into Man, and Life unto it given,

Then the Almighty and All-wiſe God ſaid,

That Woman of that Species ſhould be made:

Which was no ſooner ſaid, but it was done,

’Cause ’twas not fit for Man to be alone.

Thus have I prov’d Womans Creation good,

And not inferior, when right underſtood:

To that of Man’s; for both one Maker had,

Which made all good; then how could Eve be bad?

But then you’l ſay, though ſhe at firſt was pure,

Yet in that State ſhe did not endure.

’Tis true; but if her Fall’s examin’d right,

We find moſt Men have baniſh’d Truth for ſpight:

Nor is ſhe quite ſo guilty as ſome make;

For Adam did moſt of the Guilt partake:

For he from God’s own Mouth had the Command;

But Woman ſhe had it at ſecond hand:

The 03 A4r 3

The Devil’s Strength weak Woman might deceive,

But Adam tempted only was by Eve.

Eve had the ſtrongeſt Tempter, and leaſt Charge;

Man’s knowing moſt, doth his Sin make moſt large.

But though Woman Man to Sin did lead?

Yet ſince her Seed hath bruis’d the Serpent’s Head:

Why ſhould ſhe be made a publick ſcorn,

Of whom the great Almighty God was born?

Surely to ſpeak one ſlighting Word, muſt be

A kind of murmuring Impiety:

But ſtill their greateſt haters do prove ſuch

Who formerly have loved them too much:

And from the Proverb they are not exempt;

Too much Familiarity has bred Contempt;

For they aſſociate themſelves with none,

But ſuch whoſe Virtues like their own, are gone;

And with all thoſe, and only thoſe who be

Moſt boldly vers’d in their Debauchery:

And as in Adam all Mankind did die,

They make all baſe for ones Immodeſty;

Nay, make the Name a kind of Magick Spell,

As if ’twould cenſure married Men to Hell.

Woman, ye Powers! the very Name’s a Charm,

And will my Verſe againſt all Criticks arm.

The Muſes or Apollo doth inſpire

Heroick Poets; but your’s is a Fire,

Pluto from Hell did ſend by Incubus,

Becauſe we make their Hell leſs populous;

Or elſe you ne’er had damn’d the Females thus:

But 04 A4v 4

But if ſo univerſally they are

Diſpos’d to Miſchief, what need you declare

Peculiar Faults, when all the World might ſee

With each approaching Morn a Prodigy:

Man curſe dead woman; I could hear as well

The black infernal Devils curſe their Hell:

When there had been no ſuch place we know,

If they themſelves had not firſt made it ſo.

In Luſt perhaps you others have excell’d,

And made all Whores that poſſibly would yield;

And courted all the Females in your way,

Then did deſign at laſt to make a Prey

Of ſome pure Virgins; or what’s almoſt worſe,

Make ſome chaſte Wives to merit a Divorce.

But ’cauſe they hated your inſatiate Mind,

Therefore you call what’s Virtuous, Unkind:

And Diſappointments did you Soul perplex;

So in meer ſpight you curſe the Female Sex.

I would not judge you thus, only I find

You would adulterate all Womankind,

Not only with your Pen; you higher ſoar;

You’d exclude Marriage, make the World a Whore.

But if all Men ſhould of your Humor be

And ſhould rob Hymen of his Deity,

They ſoon would find the Inconveniency.

Then hoſtile Spirits would be forc’d to Peace,

Becauſe the World ſo ſlowly would increaſe.

They would be glad to keep their Men at home,

And each want more to attend his Throne:

Nay, 05 B1r 5

Nay, ſhould an Engliſh Prince reſolve that he

would keep the number of of’s Nobility:

And this dull cuſtom ſome few years maintain’d,

There would be none leſs than a Peer oth’ land.

And I do fancy ’twould be pretty ſport

To ſee a Kingdom cramb’d into a Court.

Sure a ſtrange world, when one ſhould nothing ſee,

unleſs a Baudy Houſe or Nunnery.

Or ſhould this Act ere paſs, woman would fly

With unthought ſwiftneſs, to each Monaſtry

And in dark Caves ſecure her Chaſtity.

She only in a Marriage-Bed delights;

The very Name of Whore her Soul affrights.

And when that ſacred Ceremony’s gone,

Woman I am ſure will chuſe to live alone.

There’s none can number all thoſe vertuous Dames

Which choſe cold death before their lovers flames.

The chaſt Lucretia whom proud Tarquin lov’d,

Her he ſlew, her chaſtity ſhe prov’d.

But I’ve gone further than I need have done,

Since we have got examples nearer home.

Witneſs thoſe Saxon Ladies who did fear

The loſs of Honour when the Danes where here:

And cut their Lips and Noſes that they might

Not pleaſing ſeem, or give the Danes delight.

Thus having done what they could juſtly do,

At laſt they fell their ſacrifices too.

Thus when curſt Osbright courted Beon’s wife,

She him refuſ’d with hazard of her life.

B And 06 B1v 6

And ſome which I do know but will not name,

Have thus refus’d and hazarded the ſame.

I could ſay more, but Hiſtory will tell

Many more things that do theſe excel.

In Conſtancy they men excell as far

As heavens bright lamp doth a dull twinckling ſtar.

Tho’ man is alwaies altering of his mind,

Inconſtancy is only in womankind.

’Tis ſomething ſtrange, no hold, it isn’t becauſe

The men have had the power of making Laws;

For where is there that man that ever dy’d,

Or ere expired with his loving Bride.

But numerous trains of chaſt wives expire

With their dear Husbands, tho in flames of fire:

We’d do the ſame if cuſtom did require.

But this is done by Indian women, who

Do make their Conſtancy immortal too,

As is their Fame: We find India yeilds

More glorious Phœnix than the Arabian fields.

The German women Conſtancy did ſhew

When Wensberg was beſieg’d, beg’d they might go

Out of the City, with no bigger Packs

Than each of them could carry on their Backs.

The wond’ring world expected they’d have gone

Laded with treaſures from their native home,

But croſſing expectation each did take

Her Husband as her burden on her back.

So ſaved him from intended death, and ſhe

At once gave him both life and liberty.

How 07 B2r 7

How many loving wives have often dy’d:

Drownded in tears by their cold husbands ſide.

And when a Sword was Executioner,

the very ſame hath executed her,

With her own hands; eagerly meeting death,

And ſcorned to live when he was void of breath.

If this isn’t Conſtancy, why then the Sun

With Conſtant Motion don’t his progreſs run.

There’s thouſands of examples that will prove,

Woman is alwayes Conſtant in chaſt Love.

But when ſhe’s courted only to ſome Luſt,

She well may change, I think the reaſon’s juſt.

Change did I ſay, that word I muſt forbear,

No, ſhe bright Star wont wander from her ſphere

Of Virtue (in which Female Souls do move)

Nor will ſhe joyn with an inſatiate love.

For ſhe whoſe firſt eſpouſed to vertue muſt

Be moſt inconſtant, when ſhe yields to luſt.

But now the ſcene is alter’d, and thoſe who

were eſteemed modeſt by a bluſh or two,

Are repreſented quite another way,

Worſe than mock-verſe doth the moſt ſolid Play.

She that takes pious Precepts for her Rule,

Is thought by ſome a kind of ill-bred fool;

They would have all bred up in Venus School.

And when that by her ſpeech or carriage, ſhe

Doth ſeem to have ſence of a Deity,

She ſtraight is taxt with ungentility.

Unleſs it be the little blinded Boy,

That Childiſh god, Cupid, that trifling toy,

B2 That 08 B2v 8

That certain nothing, whom they feign to be

The Son of Venus daughter to the Sea.

But were he true, none ſerve him as they ſhoud,

For commonly thoſe who adore this god,

Do’t only in a melancholy mood;

Or elſe a ſort of hypocrites they are,

Who do invocate him only as a ſnare.

And by him they do ſacred love pretend,

When as heaven knows, they have a baſer end.

Nor is he god of love; but if I muſt

Give him a title, then he is god of luſt.

And ſurely Woman impious muſt be

When e’re ſhe doth become his votary,

Unleſs ſhe will believe without controul,

Thoſe that did hold a Woman had no Soul:

And then doth think no obligation lyes

On her to act what may be juſt or wiſe.

And only ſtrive to pleaſe her Appetite,

And to embrace that which doth moſt delight.

And when ſhe doth this paradox believe,

Whatever faith doth pleaſe ſhe may receive.

She may be Turk, Jew, Atheiſt, Infidel,

Or any thing, cauſe ſhe need ne’er fear Hell,

For if ſhe hath no Soul what need ſhe fear

Something ſhe knows not what or when or where.

But hold I think I ſhould be ſilent now,

Becauſe a Womans Soul you do allow.

But have we none you’d ſay we had, elſe you

Could never damn us at the rate you do.

What 09 B3r 9

What doſt thou think thou haſt priviledge given,

That thoſe whom thou doſt bleſs ſhall mount to heaven,

And thoſe thou curſeſt unto hell muſt go.

And ſo doſt think to fill the Abiſs below

Quite full of Females, hoping there may be

No room for ſouls big with Vice as thee.

But if that thou with ſuch vain hopes ſhould’ſt dye

I’th fluid Air, thou muſt not think to fly,

Or enter into heaven, thy weight of Sin

Would cruſh the damn’d, and ſo thoud’ſt enter in.

But hold, I am uncharitable here,

Thou may’ſt repent, tho’ that’s a thing I fear.

But if thou ſhould’ſt repent, why then again

It would at beſt but mitigate thy pain,

Becauſe thou haſt been vile to that degree,

That thy repentance muſt eternal be.

For wert thou guilty of no other crime

Than what thou lately putteſt into Rhime,

Why that without other offences given,

Were enough to ſhut the gate of Heaven.

But when together’s put all thou do,

It will not only ſhut but bar it too.

For when Heaven made woman it deſign’d

Her for the charming object of Mankind.

Nor is alter’d only with thoſe who

Set Bewly, Stratford, nay and Chreſwell too,

Or other Bawds, chaſe their acquaintance out,

And then what they muſt be we make no doubt.

’Tis to make heaven miſtaken when you ſay

It 10 B3v 10

It meant one and it proves another way.

For when heaven with its laſt and greateſt care,

Had form’d a female charming bright and fair,

Why then immediately it did decree,

That unto man ſhe ſhould a bleſſing be,

And ſo ſhould prove to all poſterity.

And ſurely there is nothing can be worſe

Than for to turn a bleſſing to a curſe.

And when the greateſt bleſſing heaven ere gave,

And certainly the beſt that man could have.

When that’s ſcorn’d and contemn’d ſure it muſt be

A great affront unto heaven’s Majeſty.

But I hope Heaven will puniſh the offence,

And with it juſtifie our Innocence.

I muſt confeſs there are ſome bad, and they

Lead by an Ingis fatus, go aſtray:

All are not forc’d to wander in falſe way.

Only ſome few whoſe dark benighted ſence,

For want of light han’t power to make defence

Againſt thoſe many tempting pleaſures, which

Not only theirs but Maſculine Souls bewitch.

But you’d perſuade us, that ’tis we alone

Are guilty of all crimes and you have none,

Unleſs ſome few, which you call fools, (who be

Eſpous’d to wives, and live in chaſtity.)

But the moſt rational without which we

Doubtleſs ſhou’d queſtion your Humanity.

And I would praiſe them more only I fear

If I ſhould do’t it would make me appear

Unto 11 B4r 11

Unto the World much fonder than I be

Of that ſame State, for I love Liberty,

Nor do I think there’s a neceſſity

For all to enter Beds, like Noah’s beaſt

Into his Ark; I would have ſome releaſt

From the dear cares of that lawful State:

Hold I’ll not dictate, I’ll leave all Fate.

Nor would I have the World to think that I

Through a deſpair do Nuptial Joys defy.

For in the World ſo little I have been

That I’ve but half a revolution ſeen

Of Saturn, only I do think it beſt

For thoſe who love to contemplate at reſt,

For to live ſingle too, and then they may

Uninterupted, Natures Work ſurvey.

And had my Antagoniſt ſpent his time

Making true Verſe inſtead of ſpiteful Rhime,

As a Female Poet, he had gain’d ſome praiſe,

But now his malice blaſts his twig of Bays.

I do not wiſh you had, for I believe

It is impoſſible for to deceive

Any with what you write, becauſe that you

May inſert things ſuppoſed true.

And if by ſuppoſition I may go,

Then I’ll ſuppoſe all men are wicked too,

Becauſe I’m ſure there’s many that are ſo.

And ’cauſe you have made Whores of all you could,

So if you durſt, you’d ſay all Women would.

Which words do only argue guilt and ſpite:

All makes you cheap in ev’ry mortals ſight.

And 12 B4v 12

And it doth ſhew that you have alwaies been

Only with Women guilty of that Sin.

You nere deſired nor were you fit for thoſe

Whoſe modeſt carriage doth their minds diſcloſe.

And Sir, methinks you do deſcribe ſo well

The way and manner Bewley enter’d Hell,

As if your love for her had made you go

Down to the black infernal ſhades below.

But I ſuppoſe you never was ſo near,

For if you had, you ſcarce would have been here,

For had they ſeen, they’d kept you there.

Unleſs they thought when ere it was you came,

Your hot entrance might encreaſe the flame.

If burning Hell add to their extreme pain,

And ſo were glad to turn you off again.

And likewiſe, alſo I believe beſide,

That one thing more might be their haughty pride.

They knew you Rival’d them in all their Crimes,

Wherewith they could debauch the willing times.

And as fond mortals hate a rival, they

Loving through Pride, were loath to let you ſtay,

For fear that you might their black deeds excel,

Uſurp their Seat and be the Prince of Hell.

But I believe that you will let your hate

Ore rule your bride, and you’ll not wiſh the State

Of CGoverning, becauſe your deceived mind,

Perſuades your Subjects will be Women kind.

But I believe when it comes the tryal,

Ask but for ten and you’ll have the denial.

You’d 13 C1r 13

You’d think your ſelf far happier than you be,

Were you but half ſo ſure of heaven as we.

But when you are in hell if you ſhould find

More then I ſpeak of, think heaven deſign’d

Them for a part of your Eternal Fate,

Becauſe they’re things which you ſo much do hate.

But why you ſhould do ſo I cannot tell,

Unleſs ’tis what makes you in love with hell:

And having fallen-out with Goodneſs, you

Muſt have Antipathy ’gainſt Woman too.

For virtue and they are ſo near ally’d

That none can their mutual tyes divide.

Like Light and Heat, incorporate they are,

And interwove with providential care.

But I’m too dull to give my Sex due praiſe,

The task befits a Laureat Crown’d with Bays:

And yet all he can ſay, will be but ſmall,

A Copy differs from the original.

For ſhould he ſleep under Parnaſſus Hill,

Implore the Muſes for to guide his Quill.

And ſhou’d they help him, yet his praiſe would ſeem

At beſt but undervalluing diſeſteem.

For he would come ſo ſhort of what they are

His lines won’t with one ſingle Act compare.

But to ſay trueſt, is to ſay that ſhe

Is Good and Virtuous unto that degree

As you pretend ſhe’s Bad, and that’s beyond

Imagination, ’cauſe you ſet no bound,

And then one certain definition is

To ſay that ſhe doth comprehend all Bliſs.

C And 14 C1v 14

And that ſhe’s all that’s pious, chaſt and true,

Heroick, conſtant, nay, and modeſt too:

The later Virtue is a thing you doubt,

But ’tis cauſe you nere ſought to find it out.

You queſtion where there’s ſuch a thing or no,

’Tis only ’cauſe you hope you’ve loſt a foe,

A hated object, yet a ſtranger too.

I’ll ſpeak like you, if ſuch a thing there be,

I’m certain that ſhe doth not dwell with thee.

Thou art Antipodes to that and unto all

That’s Good, or that we ſimply civil call.

From yokes of Goodneſs, thou’ſt thy ſelf releaſt,

Turn’d Bully Hector, and a humane Beaſt.

That Beaſts do ſpeak it rarely comes to paſs,

Yet you may paralell with Balaam’s Aſs.

You do deſcribe a woman ſo that one

Would almoſt think ſhe had the Fiends outdone:

As if at her ſtrange birth did ſhine no ſtar,

Or Planet, but Furies in conjunction were;

And did conſpire what miſchief they ſhould do,

Each act his part and her with plagues purſue,

’Tis falſe in her, yet ’tis ſum’d up in you.

You almoſt would perſwade one that you thought

That providence to a low ebb was brought;

And that to Eve and Jezabell was given

Souls of ſo great extent that heaven was driven

Into a Straight, and liberality

Had made her void of wanting, to ſupply

Theſe later bodies, ſhe was forc’d to take

Their ſouls aſunder, and ſo numbers make,

And 15 C2r 15

And tranſmigrate them into others, and

Still ſhift them as ſhe finds the matters ſtand.

’Tis ’cauſe they are the worſt makes me believe

You muſt imagine Jezabel and Eve.

But I’m no Pythagorean to conclude

One Soul could ſerve for Abraham and Jude.

Or think that heaven ſo bankrupt or ſo poor,

But that each body has one ſoul or more.

I do not find our Sex ſo near ally’d,

Either in diſobedience or in pride,

Unto the ’bovenamed Females (for I’m sure

They are refin’d, or elſe were alwaies pure)

That I muſt needs conceit their ſouls the ſame,

Tho’ I confeſs there’s ſome that merit blame:

But yet their faults only thus much infer,

That we’re not made ſo perfect but may err;

Which adds much luſtre to a virtuous mind,

And ’tis her prudence makes her ſoul confin’d

Within the bounds of Goodneſs, for if ſhe

Was all perfection, unto that degree

That ’twas impoſſible to do amiſs,

Why heaven not ſhe muſt have the praiſe of this.

But ſhe’s in ſuch a ſtate as ſhe may fall,

And without care her freedom may enthrall.

But to keep pure and free in ſuch a caſe,

Argues each virtue with its proper grace.

And as a womans compoſition is

Moſt ſoft and gentle, ſhe has happineſs

In that her ſoul is of that nature too,

And yeilds to any thing that heaven will do;

C2 Takes 16 C2v 16

Takes an impreſſion when ’tis ſeal’d in heaven,

Turns to a cold refuſal, when ’tis given

By any other hand: She’s all divine,

And by a ſplendid luſtre doth outſhine

All maſculine ſouls, who only ſeem to be

Made up of pride and their lov’d luxury.

So great’s mans ambition that he would

Have all the wealth and power if he could,

That is beſtowed on the ſeveral Thrones

Of the worlds Monarchs, covets all their Crowns.

And by experience it hath been found

The word Ambition’s not an empty ſound.

There’s not an Hiſtory which doth not ſhew

Man’s pride, ambition and his falſhood too.

For if at any time th’ambitious have

Leaſt ſhew of honour, then their ſouls grow brave,

Grow big and reſtleſs, they are not at eaſe,

’Till they have a more fatal way to pleaſe,

Look fair and true, when falſely they intend;

So from low Subject, grow a Monarch’s Friend.

And by grave Councels they their good pretend,

When ’tis guilt poyſon and oft works their end.

The Son who muſt ſucceed, is too much loved,

Muſt be pull’d down (his Councel is approved)

For fear he willingly ſhould grow too great,

Deſire to rule, ſhould mount his father’s Seat.

So he’s diſpatch’d, and then all thoſe that be

Next in the way are his adherency.

And then the better to ſecure the State,

It is but juſt they ſhould receive his fate.

So 17 C3r 17

So by degrees he for himſelf makes room,

His Prince is ſtraightway ſhut up in his Tomb,

And then the falſe uſurper mounts the Throne.

Or would do ſo at leaſt but commonly

He nere ſits firm, but with revenge doth dy,

But thank heaven there’s but rew that reach ſo high,

For the known crimes makes a wiſe Prince take care.

Thus what I’ve ſaid doth plainly ſhew there are

Men more impious than a woman far.

So thoſe who by their abject fortune are

Remote from Courts no leſs their pride declare,

In being uneaſie and envying all who be

Above them, in State, or Priority.

But ’tis impoſſible for to relate

Their boundleſs Pride, or their prodigious hate,

To all that fortune hath but ſmil’d upon,

In a degree that is above their own.

And thou proud fool, that virtue would’ſt ſubdue,

Envying all good, doſt towre ore woman too,

Which doth betray a baſe ignoble mind,

Speaks thee nothing but a bluſtring wind.

But in ſo great a lab’rinth as man’s pride,

I ſhould not enter, nor won’t be imply’d,

For to ſearch out their ſtrange and unknown crimes,

There’s ſo many apparent in theſe times,

That my dull Arithmetick cannot tell

Half the ſins that commonly do dwell

In one ſordid Ruſtick, then how can I

Define the Courts or Towns Debauchery.

Their 18 C3v 18

Their pride in ſome ſmall meaſure I have ſhown,

But theirs is running over and preſt down;

And ’tis impoſſible I ſhould repeat

The Crimes of men extravagantly great,

I would not name them, but to let them ſee

I know they’r bad and odious unto me.

’Tis true, pride makes men great in their own eyes,

But them proportionable I deſpiſe;

And tho’ Ambition ſtill aims to be high,

Yet Luſt at beſt is but beaſtiality;

A Sin with which there’s none can compare,

Not Pride nor Envy, &c. for this doth inſnare,

Not only thoſe whom it at firſt inflam’d,

This Sin muſt have a partner to be ſham’d,

And puniſh’d like himſelf. Hold, one wont do,

He muſt have more, for he doth ſtill purſue

The Agents of his Paſſion; ’tis not Wife,

That Mutual Name can regulate his Life:

And tho’ he for his Luſt might have a ſhrowd,

And there might be Poligamy allow’d,

Yet all his Wives would ſurely be abhorr’d,

And ſome common Lais be ador’d.

Moſt mortally the Name of Wife they hate,

Yet they will take one as their proper fate,

That they may have a Child legitimate,

To be their Heir, if they have an Eſtate,

Or elſe to bear their Names: So, for by ends,

They take a Wife, and ſatisfie their friends,

Who are deſirous that it ſhould be ſo,

And for that end, perhaps, Eſtates beſtow;

Which 19 C4r 19

Which, when poſſeſs’d, is ſpent another way;

The Spurious Iſſue do the right betray,

And with their Mother-Strumpets are maintain’d;

The Wife and Children by neglect diſdain’d,

Wretched and poor unto their Friends return,

Having got nothing, unleſs cauſe to mourn.

The Dire Effects of Luſt I cannot tell,

For I ſuppoſe its Catalogue’s in Hell;

And he perhaps at laſt may read it there,

Written in flames, fierce as his own whilſt here.

I could ſay more, but yet not half that’s done

By theſe ſtrange Creatures, nor is there ſcarce one

Of theſe inhumane Beaſts that do not die

As bad as Bewley’s Pox turns Leproſie,

And Men do catch it by Meer phantaſie.

Tho’ they are chaſt and honeſt, yet it doth

Purſue them, and ſome company on oath

They have been in, and their infected breath

Gave them that Plague, which haſt’neth their death,

Or elſe ’tis Scurvy, or ſome new diſeaſe,

As the baſe wretch or vain Phyſician pleaſe,

And then a ſum of Money muſt be gave

For to keep corruption from the grave;

And then ’tis doubled, for to hide the cheat:

(O the ſad Horrour of debaucht deceit!)

The Body and Eſtate together go.

And then the only Objects here below,

On which he doth his charity beſtow,

Are Whores and Quacks, and perhaps Pages too

Muſt have a ſhare, or elſe they will reveal

That which Money doth make them conceal.

20 C4v 20

Sure truſty Stewards of extenſive heaven,

When what’s for common good is only given

Unto peculiar friends of theirs, who be

Slaves to their luſt, friending debauchery;

Theſe are partakers of as great a fate

As thoſe whoſe boldneſs turns them reprobate,

And tho’ a Hypocrite doth ſeem to be

A greater ſharer of Morality,

Yet methinks they almoſt ſeem all one,

One hides, and t’other tells what he hath done;

But if one Devil’s better than another,

Than one of theſe is better than t’other:

Hypocriſie preheminence ſhould have,

(Tho’ it ha’nt got the priviledge to ſave)

Becauſe the Reprobate’s example may,

By open Cuſtom, make the rugged way

Seem more ſmooth, and a common ſin

Look more pardonable, and ſo by him

More take example, ’tis he ſtrives to win.

Mad Souls, to fill up Hell! But ſhould there be

Nothing e’re acted but Hypocriſie,

Yet Man would be as wicked as he is,

And be no nearer to eternal bliſs;

For he who’s ſo unſteady, as to take

Example by ſuch Men, ſhould never make

Me to believe, that he was really chaſt,

And, without pattern, never had imbrac’t:

Such kind of ſins at beſt ſuch virtues weak,

That with ſuch a ſlender ſtreſs will break,

And that’s no virtue which cannot withſtand

A ſlight temptation at the ſecond hand:

But 21 D1r 21

But I believe one might as narrowly pry

For’t, as the Grecian did for honeſty,

And yet find none; and then if Women be

Averſe to’t too, ſure all’s iniquity

On this ſide Heaven, and it with Juſtice went

Up thither, ’cauſe here is found no content,

But did regardleſs and neglected ly,

And with an awful diſtance was paſt by.

Inſtead of hiding their prodigious Acts,

They do reveal, brag of their horrid Facts;

Unleſs it be ſome few who hide them, ’cauſe

They would not ſeem to violate thoſe laws

Which with their tongues they’r forc’d for to maintain,

Being grave Counſellers or Aldermen,

Or elſe the Wives Relations are alive,

And then, if known, ſome other way they’l drive

Their golden wheels, that way doth ſeem uneven,

Then the Eſtate moſt certainly is given

Some other way, or elſe ’tis ſetled ſo

As he may never have it to beſtow,

Upon his Luſts, therefore he doth ſeem

For to have a very great eſteem

For his pretended Joy; but when her friends

Are dead, then he his curſed life defends,

With what they leave; then the unhappy wife,

With her dear children, lead an horrid life,

And the Eſtate’s put to another uſe,

And their great kindneſs turn’d an abuſe;

And ſhould I ſtrive their falſhood to relate,

Then I ſhould have but Siſiphus his fate,

D For 22 D1v 22

For Man is ſo inconſtant and untrue,

He’s like a ſhadow which one doth purſue,

Still flies from’s word, nay and perfidious too.

And Inſtance too of Infidelity

We have in Egypt’s falſe King Ptolomy,

Who, tho’ he under obligations were,

For to protect Pompey from the ſnare,

Who fled to him for ſuccour, yet baſe he

Did command his death moſt treacherouſly;

He was inconſtant too, or elſe deſign’d

The ſame at firſt, ſo alter’d words not mind,

Which is much worſe, for when that one doth ſpeak

With a full reſolution, for to break

One’s word and oath, ſurely it muſt be

A greater crime than an inconſtancy,

Which is as great failing in the ſoul

As any ſin that reaſon doth controul,

But I deſigned for to be ſhort, ſo muſt

Be ſure to keep firm unto the firſt

That I reſolved, or elſe ſhould reprove

Theſe faults which firſt I ought for to remove;

Therefore, with Brutus, I this point will end,

Who, tho’ he ought to have been Cæſar’s friend,

By being declared his Heir, yet it was he

Was the firſt actor in his tragedy:

Perfidious and ungrateful and untrue

He was at once, nay and diſloyal too:

A thouſand Inſtances there might be brought,

(Not far fetch’d, tho’ they were dearly bought)

To 23 D2r 23

To prove that Man more falſe than Woman is,

More unconſtant, nay and more perfidious:

But theſe are Crimes which hell, (I’m ſure not heaven)

Unto our Sex, but ’tis as falſe as they,

And that’s more falſe than any one can ſay.

All Pride and Luſt too to our charge they lay,

As if in ſin we all were ſo ſublime

As to monopolize each hainous crime;

Nay, Woman now is made the Scape-goat, and

’Tis ſhe muſt bear ſins of all the land:

But I believe there’s not a Prieſt that can

Make an atonement for one ſingle man,

Nay, it is well if he himſelf can bring

An humble, pious heart for th’ offering;

A thing which ought to be inſeparable

To men o’th’ Gown and of the Sacred Table;

Yet it is ſometimes wanting, and they be

Too often ſharers of Impiety:

But howſoever the ſtrange World now thrives,

I muſt not look in my Teachers lives,

But methinks the World doth ſeem to be

Nought but confuſion and degeneracy,

Each Man’s ſo eager of each fatal ſin,

As if he fear’d he ſhould not do’t again;

Yet ſtill his ſoul is black, he is the ſame

At all times, tho’ he doth not act all flame,

Becauſe he opportunity doth want,

And to him always there’s not a grant

Of 24 D2v 24

Of Objects for to exerciſe his will,

And for to ſhew his great and mighty skill

In all Sciences diabolical,

But when he meets with thoſe which we do call

Baſe ad unjuſt, why then his part he acts

Moſt willingly, and then with hell contracts

To do the next thing that they ſhould require;

And being thus inflamed with helliſh fire,

He doth to any thing it doth deſire,

Unleſs ’twere poſſible for hell to ſay,

They ſhould be good, for then they’d diſobey.

I am not ſorry you do Females hate,

But rather reckon we’re more fortunate,

Becauſe I find, when you’r right underſtood,

You are at enmity with all that’s good,

And ſhould you love them, I ſhould think they were

A growing bad, but ſtill keep as you are:

I need not bid you, for you muſt I’m ſure,

And in your preſent wretched ſtate indure;

’Tis an impoſſible you ſhould be true,

As for a Woman to act like to you,

Which I am ſure will not accompliſh’d be,

Till heaven’s turn’d hell, and that’s repugnancy;

And when vice is virtue you ſhall have

A ſhare of that which makes moſt Females brave,

Which tranſmutations I am ſure can’t be;

So thou muſt lie in vaſt eternity,

With proſpect of they endleſs miſery,

When Woman, your imagin’d Fiend, ſhall live

Bleſs’d with the Joys that Heaven can always give.