Vulgar words in The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses From Women (Page 1)
This book at a glance
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_Indeed we the Ladies of Pleasures, and those that stile themselves Procurers in Love Affairs, highly resent the late Paper put out against our Profession and bespattering of us for using only our own; but since it is the Way of the World for most Men to be inclinable to love Lac'd Mutton, I think it is their Duty to resent the Affront with us so much, as to Satyrize the Author of the_ Fifteen Comforts of Whoring, _who without is some young bashful Effeminate Fool or another, that knows not how to say_ Boh to a Goose; _or some old suffocated old Wretch so far pass'd his Labour, that he scolds for Madness that he cannot give a buxom young Lass her Benevolence; or else he may an hundred to one be one of Captain_ Risby's _Fraternity, and so must needs be a Woman Hater by Course.
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But let him be what he will, so long as our Impudence is Case-harden'd we value not his Reflections, and therefore will not leave our Vocation tho' Claps and Poxes shou'd be our Portion every Day for according to an eminent Whore now Deceas'd,_ Clap, clap ye Whores, Clap as Clap can, Some Clap to Women, we'll Clap the Men.
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THE Whores and Bawds, Answer, &c. _The first Comfort of Whoring, Answer'd._ No sooner does a Maid arrive to Years, And she the Pleasures of Conjunction hears, But strait her Maidenhead a Tip-toe runs, To get her like, in Daughters or in Sons; Upon some jolly Lad she casts her Eye, And with some am'rous Gestures by the by; She gives him great Encouragement to take His fill of Love, and swears that for his sake She soon shall Die; which makes the Youth so hot To get about the Maiden's Honey-pot, That promising her Marriage and the like, They both a Bargain very quickly Strike; [*?]
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_The Second Comfort of Whoring, Answer'd._ Now when a Maid has crackt her Maidenhead, By being once or twice (Sir) brought to Bed, Her Credit then's so broke that all her Wit, And Policy cannot a Husband get; But yet not being out of Heart she Cries, From Marriage keeping I shall be more wise, For if he's not a Fool he soon will find, I had before I'd him to some been kind, Then how he'd call me arrant Bitch and Whore, And Swear some Stallion had been there before; Then leave me, Wherefore I will single Live, And my Invention to decoying give, For as I was by fickle Man betray'd, So Men by me too shall be Bubbles made, Till the dull Sots clandestine Means do take, In robbing Masters,for a Strumpets sake, For which if they shou'd at the Gallows Swing, Their End I'd in some merry Ditty Sing.
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_ The Third Comfort of whoring answer'd._ What tho' of Whoring it is the mishap, Sometimes for him that Ruts to get a Clap, Or an Invetrate Pox which may expose His private Sports by Eating off his Nose; How many by hard Drinking will Roar out With Aches, Rheumatism's or the Gout, When in that gorging, guzling, tipling Sin There is not half the Pleasure, that there's in, The soft Embraces of a Woman who Altho' she is not to one Moral true, Does strive to please your height of amorous Lust, With such a ravishing and pleasing Gust, That wou'd an Eunuch tempt to tast the same, But that he Tools does want to play the Game.
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_The fourth Comfort of Whoring answer'd._ Tho' Buboes, Nodes and Ulcers are the Marks, Of many a wanton Beau and am'rous Sparks And many a lustful Lecher oft complains Of restless Days and damn'd nocturnal Pains, Nays go into a Flux o dozen Weeks, Is't not the Man himself these Sorrow seeks?
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feeding you with Flesh, altho' in Lent: Therefore as the old Woman very Tart Once said, when against Thunder she did Fart, 'Twas only tit for tat, so if the Men Do clap the Whores, and Whores Claps them agen, Tis only tit for tat; tis very true, What's good for Goose is good for Gander too.
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_The fifth Comfort of Whoring answer'd._ What if a Man is in a marry'd State?
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Therefore he fixes on some wanton Miss Whom rather than his Wife behalf he'd Kiss, For as it's oft reported now a days, A Thing that's fresh, fresh Courage, too will raise _The Sixth Comfort of Whoring, Answer'd_ What Man wou'd shun the Plagues of Pox and Pills, Or all the ails that are in Doctors Bills, Rather than not be circled in the Arms Of one that tempts you with a thousand Charms, And tho' she long has lost her Maidenhead, Yet such Dexterity she'll shew in Bed, That, Sir, your Mouth wou'd water o're and o're, To feed again upon a skilful Whore.
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_The seventh Comfort of Whoring Answer'd._ 'Tis true, the Fop that thinketh to secure'd To himself, in private Lodgins some fine Whore He is a Fool, for she'll not be confin'd, To any Man altho' he's are so kind; For being then high Pampered and Fed, In absence of her Cull she takes to Bed Another, that with Gold allures her too, That she may not to her Gallant be true; For thinks she, when her Chap is tir'd quite, And turns her off in others to delight, From all she can she'll privately receive, Which may her great Necessities relieve, When that she bids adieu her Master's Bed, To get by publick jilting Tricks her Bread.
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_The ninth Comfort of Whoring Answer'd_ If any has a Jilt some time sustain'd, Who has imperious o're his Pocket reign'd, And he's grown weary of so sweet a Life, Or else being jealous takes to him a Wife; The Whore can do no less than fling and tear, And on th' inconstant Coxcomb Vengeance swaer, For leaving her in this her state of Sin; And let the World know what the Spark has been, Unless a Pension he to her allows, That she may not his Roguery disclose.
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_The tenth Comfort of Whoring Answer'd._ T'is true we Harlots work by various means, And act our Parts behind too diff'rent Scenes; Sometimes we do a Bastard lay to those, That never did so much as touch our Cloaths; Perhaps too ne'er were in our Company, So Guineas get by this same Subtilty; And many times a Pocket too we pick, For at no mischief will a Strumpit stick; For once a Woman's bad, there's no relief By being only Whore, but also Thief.
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_The Eleventh Comfort of Whoring, Answer'd._ We'll have you know, of Whores are very few, That will to any Man be ever true; To us all Men for Money are alike, With Skips as soon as Beaus we bargains strike; And gad no sooner is a Cully gone, But quick another in his Room gets on.
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_The Twelfth Comfort of Whoring Answer'd._ Besides great Charges we are at for Cloaths, To tempt the Fancies of our cringing Beaus, We Pimps and Bullies keep to be our Bail, When Sharping Bailiffs nabb us for a Jayl.
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_The Thirteenth Comfort of Whoring Answer'd._ Again as we to _Bridewel_ oft are sent, To undergo a flauging Punishment, A bribe to him that Whips us then is gi'n, To have Compassion to our tender Skin.
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_The Fourteenth Comfort of Whoring Answer'd._ With pretty winning ways we do assure, Our selves to bring the Woodcocks to our Lure As ogling wishfully, and having Tongue, Which tho' 'tis false, yet with good Language hung And if we have a Voice that's good, we sing And _Syren_ like our Fops to ruin bring; Then how we Strumpets do rejoyce to see, The wiser Sex undone by Lechery.
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_The Fifteenth Comfort of Whoring Answer'd._ But now good lack-a-day our Trade's so bad, That truly Customers can scarce be had, Through those sly Whore's that do in privat dwell, So (but a story sad it is to tell) Our common Whores can scarce their Livings get By all the means of an intrieguing Wit.
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_The Second Plague._ When I've beheld an am'rous Youth make Love, And swearing Truth by all the Gods above, How has it strait inflam'd my sprightly Blood Creating Flames, I scarcely should withstood, But bid him boldly march, not grant me leisure Of Parley, for 'tis Speed augments the Pleasure.
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_The Third Plague._ She that her Maiden-head does keep, runs through More Plagues than all the Land of _Egypt_ knew; A teazing Whore, or a more tedious Wife, Plagues not a Marry'd Man's unhappy Life, As much as it do's me to be a Maid, Of which same Name I am so much afraid, Because I've often heard some People tell, They that die Maids, must all lead Apes in Hell; And so 'twere better I had never been, Than thus to be perplex'd: _God save the Queen._ _The Fourth Plague._ When trembling Pris'ners all stand round the Bar, A strange suspence about the fatal Verdict, And when the Jury crys they Guilty are, How they astonish'd are when they have heard it.
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I thought my Happiness was then compleat, Because 'twas in his Pow'r to make it so; I ask'd the Spark if he would do the Feat, But the unperforming Blockhead answer'd, _No_.
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_The Eighth Plague._ Now I am young, blind _Cupid_ me bewitches, I scratch my Belly, for it always itches, And what it itches for, I've told before, 'Tis either to be Wife, or be a Whore; Nay any thing indeed, would be poor I, N'er Maiden-heads upon my Hands should lie, Which till I lose, I'm sure my watry Eyes Will pay to Love so great a Sacrifice, That my Carcass soon will weep out all its Juice, Till grown so dry, as fit for no Man's use.
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_The Twelfth Plague._ Happen what will, I'll make some Lovers know What Pains, what raging Pains I undergo, Till I am really Heart-sick, almost Dead, By keeping that damn'd thing a Maiden-head.
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_The Second Comfort._ Tell me you Grave Disputers of the Schools, You learned Coxcombs, and you well read Fools; You that have told us, Man must be our Head, And made _Dame Nature_ Pimp to what you've said, Tell me where are the Joys of womans Life, When she consents to be a wedded Wife: Much less if she too kind and easie proves, And grants her Heart to one that swears he loves, I will not call her W----re, because I know 'Twas his false Oaths and Lyes that made her so: But you that would to your own selves be just, Nor Friend nor Husband but with caution trust.
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]aisance would do, There's women that can all these wonders show, Beauty that might new fire to Hermit lend, And wit which serves that Beauty to defend, who courted, cou'd do wonders with those Charms, Till Parson conjur'd her to Husbands Arms, And tho' the same perfections still remain Yet nothing now can the dull Creature gain, No looks can win him, nor no Smiles invite, He now does her, and her Endearments slight, And leaves those Graces which he shou'd adore, To dote upon some Ugly suburb whore, whilst poor neglected Spouse remains at home, with discontent and Sorrow overcome, No prayers, nor tears, nor all the Virtuous arts.
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No Charms his damn'd ill nature can release, _Satan_, must only _Satan_ disposes.
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_The Fifteenth Comfort._ And may the silly Maid that is so blind, } To trust Man's Oaths that are as false as Wind, } And only to her Ruin are design'd, } That thinks her Vertue is a Plague of Life, And will to cure it, yield as Whore or Wife.
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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.