Part 3 (1/2)

_The Fourth Pleasure of a Town Life._

Another hardly does escape so well, From Purgatory he drops into h.e.l.l; Where like a branded Sacrifice he comes, And in the Flame the Harlot lit, consumes: Of Buboes, Nodes, and Ulcers he complains, Of Restless Days, and d.a.m.n'd nocturnal Pains.

Nor less than into six Weeks Flux he goes: Comes out a Shadow, pale and Meagre shews, If Heaven spare that Ornament his Nose: Thus all his Youthful Vigor's threwn away, And e're his time he dwindles to decay.

_The Fifth Comfort of a Town Life._

This married, settled in the Joys of Life, A handsom Trade, and an endearing Wife; Does yet a mind incontinent betray, And for a Night of Pleasure dearly pay: Having received a Favour from his Miss, He kindly gives it to a Friend of his: The Wife, (for that the Marriage Rites say still) Must bear a part both of the Good or Ill.

She finds what pity 'tis she e'er had known, Since for no Crime, nor Pleasure of her own, Reveals it to him, knowing not at first, What might the Cause be--tho' she fear'd the worst.

He strives to pacifie her twenty ways Blushes--or wou'd do if he'd any Grace.

Tells Her the truth in Penetential strain, And vows he'll never do the like again, She weeps, forgives him all--but must endure, The manner, and the Charges of a Cure; Where One in twenty scarce so perfect be, But that they leave it to Posterity.

_The Sixth Comfort of a Town Life._

Or where they 'scape the plagues of _Pox_ and _Pills_, The Sin is liable to fifty Ills, Of equal Danger, tho' a diff'rent Cure, As he that dreading Claps wou'd Sin secure; For soon the pliant Wretch he has beguil'd Hath to his Charge and wonder prove with Child: At which, 'tmay properly be said a Man, Leaps from the Fire to the Frying-pan, This for his Reputation sake must be reveal'd When Claps are only as a Jest reveal'd She's now Remov'd--Deliver'd--and the Nurse; Comes thick and threefold to Exhaust his Purse; A blessed Life that woful Mortal bears, With _Nurse_ and _Child_, and _Mother_ in his Ears.

Arm'd with a Thousand things that must be had, Till they have drein'd him poor and made him mad: What better (had he been convin'd before,) He had Transgress'd with some Obedient Wh.o.r.e.

_The Seventh Pleasure of a Town Life._

Another that he may his Joys secure, Turns _Limbetham_ and keep some Gaudy wh.o.r.e, Thinks her his own--when Satan knows her his mind, Is like her Body not to be confin'd, As constant as the Moon, she plays her part, And like a Viper preys upon his Heart: Draws him so poor, till like her Slaves, Which she bestows on some smart Fop she loves, For this is with 'em a perpetual Rule, They never Love the Person that they fool, This he perceives not till it is too late, Till Ruined in his Person and Estate.

And then good Night, when all his money's gone, Miss leaves him too, to ply about the Town.

_The Eighth Pleasure of a Town Life._

But above all--if't be within thy Power, Oh Fate! to Curse me any mortal more, Let him be him that does so wretched prove, To be with some Intriging Jilt in Love: Nay, tho' in part to mollifie his pain, We'll say the Harlot chance to Love again?

I mean such Love as Lewdness can impart, Bred in the Blood--but never in the Heart.

With softning presents he would Cure her mind, To him, and only to him, to be Kind.

But were the _Indies_ all within his Pow'r To give, he would but lavish all his Store, He might confine the Sea, as soon as her.

What then (since Love no Rival will submit) Must he indure that with this plague do's meet: When every Thought is Death and Discontent To know, what he wants power to prevent, The case can only this conclusion have, He's twice more wretched than a Galley-slave.

_The Ninth Pleasure of a Town Life._

This has some Jilt for a long time sustain'd, Who has Imperious o'er his Pocket reign'd; At length grown weary of so loose a Life, Or for some other Cause, he takes a wife: The Jilt now like a Fury flings and tears, Ten thousand Oaths to be reveng'd she swears: Threatens to come before his very Door, For Wh.o.r.es are plagues that never give you o'er: _There in the open Street to act the Scene, And let the World know what a Spark he's been: This; may be some fair promises prevents, If constantly attended with the pence; For Wh.o.r.es and Fidlers this one Rule advance, Of old; no longer Pipe, no longer Dance.

But if the Promis'd Pension he withdraws, The Fury then again Exerts her Claws: Thus he a charge, continual intails, Besides the Curse, the Noise, and all things else;_

The Tenth Pleasure of a Town Life,