THE Whores Rhetorick, Calculated to the Meridian OF LONDON; And conformed to the Rules of Art.

In two Dialogues.

Id vero est, quod ego mihi puto palmarium,
Me reperisse, quomodo adoloscentulus
Meretricum ingenia, & mores posset noscere:
Maturè ut cum cognorit, perpetuo oderit.
Nosse omnia haec, salus est adolocentulis.
Terent. Eunuchus.

LONDON, Printed for George Shell in Stone-Cutter-Street in Shoe-Laine. 1683.

To the most famous Uni­versity of London-Cour­tezans.

TO no others than you (fair Ladies) ought this Book to address it self, if it be true, that every thing does natu­rally tend to its proper sphere. You will here find a Register of your own Triumphs, it were therefore injustice to suffer these painted Sheets to bor­row their lustre from any other patro­nage than your bright selves. You ever prove exquisite Artists in your own Profession, and can with great dexterity varnish over your imper­fections, [Page] whether natural, or casually acquired in the exercise of your own Vocation: Your Author is sensible of failings in both these kinds, and see­ing he wants artifice to give his na­tural, or adventitious parts a fair gloss, to impose at once, as you do, on the eyes and understandings of men, he desires your kind assistance to pass his Ware as fresh, sound and beautiful, because it is with all pos­sible zeal consecrated to your service. Though I never had the honour to receive any marks of your favour, or to be signalized by wearing your badge, yet I have here boldly adventured to desire your favourable Protection, as if I were an old Servant, that had lost my Blood in fighting your Battels, and endured the fatigue of many dan­gerous Sieges: if my ignorance does not permit me to pay my De­votion in the usual form; it is ho­ped you will accept of this Rhetorick, as an atonement for my want of Faith [Page] and Charity at the Worship of your Shrines. If my youthful inexperi­ence has hindred me from placeing your honourable Ensigns in the right place, where some people on the sunny­side the Globe, do their Jewels: if I have not honoured you with a flat Nose, pray be pleased (fair ones) to accept the Tribute of a flat Pen. It would however be a little hard to expect this rigorous duty of your humble Servant, because I have weak E [...]e [...] that may soon require the [...] and of Spectacles, which cannot be supported if once the Bridge were ta­ken away. You have at this instant got the Maiden-head of my officious scribling Instrument, as you have some years since, the Virginity of ano­ther Quill. The Ink of this is black and smutty, but that of the other was of a more innocent and pleasing colour; though after having been im­proved by your conversation, it changed once its native Simplicity [Page] for the variety of all the colours in the Rain-bow, or the greater diver­sity of a Peacock's Train. There is another difference between these two Alembecks: Bacchus makes the one to flow in exuberant and fruitful show­ers; but he cruelly seals up the o­thers mouth, that it cannot drop into one tear.

I have wisely chose your protection for this Book, because I would not be thought to expect the ten Guinea's Fee for a mercenary Dedication: All the world will clear this from any guilt of that nature, seeing it is directed to Ladies, who seldom express their generosity in these terms. I have like­wise thought it a piece of providence to make you patronize this minute Volumn, to save my Pen the trou­ble of acting the Sycophant in a long and nauseous Epistle, according to the modern precedents. You have with­out the help of an Author, made your selves famous in the World: your [Page] Vertues are conspicuous to all Eyes, and palpable by all hands too: your perfections are the common Theme of the people, and your graces are daily exposed to publick view. Who can enough admire your Christian humility in being willing to edify with your Do­ctrine, the dregs of men? your af­fability, in being all things to all men that come in your way? and your hospitality for opening your doors to Porters and Car-men? Your charity is sufficient to cover a multi­tude of sins, as diffusive as that of the Sun, to every body that will appear abroad, or dares but once to ask the Question; you are at all times inclined to mercy and forgive­ness, if your Votary will express his sorrow in a golden Tear. The Bloo­dy Sacrifice is the last part of this Ce­remony, and still subsequent to the rich oblation: but which is most of all, your Chastity is no less remarkable than your other Vertues. Your Lusts [Page] and Carnal affections are wholly mortifyed, and you are become by your industry and fervent applicati­on as insensible of sensitive plea­sure, as if you were made of Wood or Stone: surely you have in this particular, out-done the severest Moralist, or the most Holy of the Primitive Fathers, who never could subjugate their Bodies to that de­gree you have done, as not to be once prickt with the Thorn in the Flesh. You have methinks taken the same course to arrive at this meri­torious piece of supererogation, as the Fruiterer does to save his Raisins; He makes his young Ap­prentice surfeit at his first dayes sitting behind the Counter, that he may be sure to have no gusto that way for the future.

I protest (sweet Creatures) to you stored with all the moral Vertues, and not deficient in one Theological Grace, saving that you may seem sometimes [Page] to want Faith: Some think you should believe your Customers on the Credit of their word, after having received good store of their ready Money. In­stead of this you look on things with a providential Eye, as Rats do the fall of a ruinous House, or a rotten Ship: you can foresee the downfal of any Servant, and leave him, as Hea­ven sometimes does, to himself. Whilst the Gentleman is willing to purchase the Soil at any rate, you suffer him to sow the Seed; what he commonly reaps, you are best able to give an ac­count of: and he that would grind with you, must pay the Toll before hand, even before he is permitted to bring his Grist to the Mill. However if you are a little void of this believing qua­lity, if you have no large proportion of faith, you are so well stockt with good works, that you may be excused the want of this unactive Grace. Na­ture has been in all points extream kind to you all, that are indeed so wor­thy [Page] a part of her own Sex; she has been more than partial in endowing you with such capacious talents, which the scantlings of our curt under­standings can never reach. Poor ig­norant man can scarce penetrate be­yond a superficial discovery of that pro­found Fountain of Knowledge where­of you are Mistresses: and by a strange unheard of Parodox, those precious mines of solid learning are in your tender virginal years most inacces­sible to the best efforts of feeble man.

The Author hopes you will not treat him after your usual manner, but that you will excuse him from that rigorous impost you exact of Strangers, and admit him into the Pit without the necessity of coming with a golden Ticket. If you become free of your amorous caresses, he pro­mises to regulate himself to the vul­gar Proverb, which forbids us to look a gift-Horse in the Mouth. He says, he'll take you all for fair, vertuous, [Page] and honest; tho in so doing, you your selves will swear he is troubled with a very adventurous and implicit Faith, large enough for himself and you too. If the following leaves do supply the room of a Pack of Cards, to increase your Tribute, by cheating the loving Gamesters; it is hoped you will grant me liberty to trade, though I cannot properly as one of your body politick, yet very well as an interloping Mer­chant. This is a Priviledge the meanest poetical Dawber claims from both the Theatres, who possibly never appears on the Stage after his own night, nor ever thought of, unless by the baulkt Bookseller: if I have merited no better of you than some of these Gentlemen do of the Stage, may I be eternally banished your Par­nassus, may I dye anathematized in a full Convocation of the Trading La­dies; and lastly, may Whetstones-Park scorn to save my longing, with the favour of a single Kiss.

[Page]The only way I know to save the credit of my green Quill, is to make it resemble as much as possible those patterns of per­fection, that are made the subject of the following Discourse. A little of that sharpness you inspire into your Lovers Ʋrine, would give my periods a grateful relish: and a small pro­portion of that Mercury, you procure for the Salivation of your faithful Ser­vants, would sublimate my fancy be­yond the feculent dregs of matter, which at present doe strangly retard its moti­on. But why should I borrow any of these transcendent qualities from your amorous Slaves, seeing they have them but at second hand; they are in them but a faint reflection of that light, the Fountain whereof springs from the charming centre of your Microcosm. My last Prayer shall therefore be, That as I have chose you for a Theme, so I may in all points imitate these fair I­dea's; may every line be as poignant as an embrace of yours, and each Sen­tence, [Page] like you, carry a sting in its tail.

In fine (Ladies) it is hoped, I have like a faithful Dedicator done your pro­fession, and my self what right, the rules of Justice and Reason could prescribe. I have been only wanting in two parti­culars essential to a Dedication, those are flattery, and fragments of Latin or French Verses: your modesty so notorious to all the World, has super­seded the one, and my own inabilities have saved you the trouble of the o­ther. Since then it were a sin to part Modesty and Plain-dealing, nay im­possible, because the moral Vertues are linkt together by a strong Chain, I presume you may be thought the fittest Patronesses for

Your most Devoted, most Faithful, and most Obedient Servant, because Philo-Puttanus.

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

MEN do for the most part take the same measures, and are guided by the same principles of Fancy and Opi­nion, in their choice of Books, as in that of Women: for as the beauty of the one does in a great measure depend on the imagination of a generous Lover; So the other in like manner is forced to borrow [Page] a good part of its Value and Lu­stre from the bounty of the Courte­ous Reader. There are indeed some Women, who do in an extra­ordinary manner enjoy the effects of Natures bounty, to whom she has been so profuse in her dispensa­tions, that she is necessitated to use a rigorous Patrimony to be­come a Step-dame to the rest of the weaker Sex; there are, I say, some few Pandoras in the World, who have in all parts received the fa­vourable touch of a divine Hand, whose perfections being but just less than infinite, their attractions must be so too.

Who ever then would pretend with his Pen, to gratifie all Man­kind; whoever would aspire to compose a Regal, adapted to every Man's palate, (I mean such as have not lost their tast) must be sure to have at all times these patterns of perfection before his Eyes, his lines [Page] must be drawn to the same perfe­ction those others are in the Ladies face; there must be a perfect sym­metry and proportion observed in every part of his composition, else he will infallibly come short of imi­tating the compleat Idea he has set before him. Beside these extrinsick ornaments, these out side embel­lishments (which are as indispen­sably necessary in a writer, as a gentile dress to render a Female all agreeable) special care must be taken to infuse such a lively, brisk, and vigorous Spirit into the mass of matter, as may in all points correspond to the vivacity of the Ladies Soul. A judicious writer will ever follow the example of Bees, and not of Frogs; he will like an expert Chymist, so order the most abject, the most indisposed matter, as to extract thence both pleasure and advantage. By the observance [Page] of this precept an Author may reap the Fruit of singular merit; may deserve an universal applause, by well handling the most trivial, the most inconsiderable subject. A Pain­ter shews no less of his skill, and may give as bold a stroke in drawing a deformed Antique, as in delineating the Picture of Ve­nus. Where the Original is faul­ty and imperfect, a more than or­dinary art is requisite to make the draught but moderately pleasing: on this score it is I would chal­lenge the Readers excuse, and les­sen his wonder at this extrava­gance, whilst he finds in the sub­sequent leaves, all the tenets of an infamous Profession. Some will believe it an act of Charity, to instruct an ignorant Brute, much more than those of our own species; and it may seem no small encouragement to the Au­thor, to be already assured of [Page] very docil and towardly Scho­lars.

It were superfluous here to bor­row any Arguments founded on reason, or the Authority of the Antients. The Moralist tells us; In medio sita est Virtus; that is, He is the most vertuous man, who preserving himself indiffe­rently between the two extreams of good and evil, knows how to apply himself to one or the other, with equal spirit and equal success, as the design in hand may seem to require: If we look into the practice of the Antients, or those of later times, we shall ever find this trade receiving all possible en­couragement. The best governed, and the most Catholick Cities now in the World, do grant it, if not a publick toleration, yet at least a civil and sufficient connivence. Many Men have been industrious to improve the Military Art, and [Page] invent new ways of framing war­like Engines; all which tend to no less than the slaughter and de­struction of humane Bodies: why should it then seem strange, or unbecoming to conduct poor igno­rant Women into the Road of knowledge, to acquaint them with the Rules of a Profession conveni­ent, nay which has been found necessary in all Common-wealths and civil Societies of Mankind. But to be a little serious in my Apology, Every prudent man will be solicitous to know all the mysteries of this Trade, by the ill effects the ignorance of it has produced in others: that so being informed in the criterium of the unsound Ware, and the Buona Robba, in the differences of good and evil; he may thereby learn how to correspond with the one, or at least how to detest and avoid the other. Wholesome and salu­tiferous [Page] Medicines are produced out of the most dangerous poysons, if judiciously compounded and sea­sonably applyed. The skilful in Simples do think it equally neces­sary to understand the nature of poysonous and destructive Herbs, as those which do more immedi­ately tend to the health and nu­triment of Man. The learned Phy­sician ought to be conversant in the knowledge of dangerous and pernicious maladies, as well as in remedies and receipts; in as much as without understanding the cause of the one, it would be impos­sible to ground any judgement in the choice of the other. The expert Pilot does ever make it his chief care to know the lurking places of Sholes, Rocks, and dangerous Sands, and this is no less necessa­ry than the being informed in the dextrous management of the Ship it self. The Modern Politicians [Page] do judge it highly necessary to be acquainted with all the subtilties in Machiavel, with Guicciardin's, and Boccalin's sage Advertisements to the end they may be able to defend themselves from cheats and slurs, which are now-a-days, no [...] only usual in affairs of State; bu [...] very ordinary likewise in private affairs, in the civil Societies o [...] men. When I was at the University, and entring on the Sophistical part of Logick, my Tutor (I remember) gave me this preliminary caution. Young Man, say he, you are now to receive my Instructions in a dangerous part of Learning: But before I proceed (i [...] de ignotis Sermo sit) I must explain the nature and meaning of th [...] Word: Sophista the [...] is derive [...] [...], and signifies no mor [...] in English than a Teacher of Wisdom; the name was honourable o [...] old times, and applyed to any perso [...] [Page] that was skilful in his own profession, whether Musician, Orator, Poet, or more especially Philosopher; but when these Artists became mercenary, and instead of true reason, and so­lid learning, taught their Scholars nothing but crafty and subtle questi­ons, and how to impose on the World with some new juggle or legerdemain; the title of Sophister became infamous likewise. It may be objected (conti­nued he) that this learning of So­phisms cannot be necessary, after know­ing the true ways of arguing, in as much as contraries do illustrate one another, and that Rectum & sui, & obliqui norma est: To this I must tell you, if Sophisms did appear in their own colours, then that rule might very well hold. But alas! These false and deceitful Syllo­gisms, like Wolves in Sheeps cloath­ing do ever appear in sincere and ho­nest habiliments. Things being thus explained, the necessity (pray mind [Page] me) of understanding these fallacious Arguments is very great; not that we should impose on others, but lest others should impose on us. My ad­vice and caution to you is this: When you shall by my care and in­dustry arrive at a perfect knowledge in this cheating trade, I beseech you (Boy) take heed, take, I say, a more especial care not to pervert your knowledge, that you make it not sub­servient to base and ignoble ends. If you happen to study the Law; I fear you will forget the concern of your own reputation and my precepts; or if you remember them, that will but enhance your guilt, and my dishonour, if you do not act conformably to your knowledge. These documents (ha­ving first begged his forgiveness for the excursion, though not imper­tinent to the present business) I leave the Reader, and in the same manner (saving the academical Pedantry) do I desire he will per­use [Page] this short piece. The foolish Fish can despise the allurements of the sweetest bait, and avoid the danger, if but part of the deadly hook be exposed to view: and so can the most inconsiderate Bird the snare of the Fowler, if the gin be laid in an open place. Read then this Book to expose all the tricks, and all the finesses you can find therein; carry it in your pockets, as some do the pictures of poor Ani­mals rotten with the Venereal di­stemper, to make you detest those Monsters, who can destroy mise­rable man with a single embrace. Remember if the Whores are hence taught to exercise their talents with some dexterity; you are the same time instructed to detect and avoid the cheat. Let your aversion to them and their profession, equal­ly increase with their frauds; and may every new net they frame to catch you in, in proportion aug­ment [Page] your vigilance and care: dou­ble your guards, and have a care the Sentinel sleep not, lest in the interim the enemy rifle him, he awake with an empty Pocket; and it is well he comes of with whole Bones, and the loss of some part of his Blood.

I have given this small contexture the name of a Rhetorick; i [...] being that which makes an absolute Orator, whom I have said, th [...] Whore must imitate in many particulars. I know it will not relis [...] well with some palates, as not being served up in a scurrilous an [...] obscene dish, which they suppos [...] an essential dress to what ever writ on this subject. The Autho [...] is not of this perswasion, he coul [...] have been bawdy and profane, b [...] detests both; he believes ribaldry nauseous in whose mouth soever receives a being; he protests [...] [Page] hate it even in a Whore, more than a dawbed face, and in the same de­gree with a stinking breath. He says he could have been more parti­cular in the Ladies Rhetorick than he is in the subsequent lectures: but as a worthy Divine of the Church of England says, describing the Vices of the age (in which pure Church Philo Puttanus disclaims all interest) Thus much is abun­dantly sufficient on this occasion, lest the Author should be thought acquainted with those persons he delineated so much to the life.

If this piece be imperfect and weak in what it pretends, if the Whores profession be nothing ad­vanced by it, then the age can re­ceive no prejudice this way; for as much as there is no collateral obsce­nity to infect the world. But on the other hand, if it bears some propor­tion with its name and title, if the young Lady is made wiser and im­proved [Page] a degree beyond the dictates of natural Logick: The Author on this score also stands upon his innocence, and pleads not guilty. We find by History and late experi­ence, that a small number of Men is lost in War since the Art Military has been advanced, since the Mo­dern ways of Fortifications were found out, and that both parties are wisely taught strongly to Intrench, to stand upon their Guard, and by stratagem to starve or tire the Ene­my: In like manner if this Rheto­rick has elevated the bawdy Science above its ordinary sphere, if the Warfare of Venus be made hereby more regular and more methodical; both Combatants, the Masculine be­sieger, and the besieged Female are informed of one anothers designs, and so by easy consequence to shun the danger and hazzard of a Battel. The Author has the vanity to believe the last part of the Dilemma true, and [Page] that these few sheets (though com­prised within the terms of a decent civility may be comprehensive e­nough to supersede any lewd re­velling on the same subject.

THE Introduction.

IN England's famous Metropolis, not far from the Piazzas in Covent-Garden, there dwelt a young and most beautiful Virgin: who by the poverty and indigence of her Pa­rents was obliged to one continued re­tirement. This Fair Maid had scarce as yet that blessing of Providence ful­filled in her person, who promised the Sun should shine on all mankind, lay­ing aside the distinction of good and evil. The want of ornaments suitable to her age, sex and quality, were mo­tives strong enough to engage her in [Page 2] this sad and miserable confinement: but alas! this fair Creature's Fate was yet much harder: she wanted even that provision of necessary attire, suf­ficient to repulse the injuries of heat and cold. Dorothea's Father (for so was the fair one called) had much more Nobili­ty in his Veins than Money in his Purse; and for the support of a numerous Issue, that angry Heaven had bestowed upon him; there was nothing left, but the honour of his Family, and the memo­ry of his own brave actions. It was his fortune, or choice rather, from the beginning of the late intestine broils, to have imbarqued himself in Caesar's quarrel: the Estate his Father left him, and which had continued in his Family some hundreds of years had suffered the same rigorous destiny, that his royal Master had first undergone. So when Brutus had washt his hands in that Sacred Blood; and when the true Augustus (for there needed no adoption) by the unanimous prayers and desires of all his Vassals, had seated himself on his Fathers Throne, this Gentleman then expected some thing more than a return of the Golden Age: he thought [Page 3] there was something due to the merit of his services, that might have super­seded a tedious attendance, and take away any necessity of turning suppli­ant, or offering up a begging petition; but what a wonderful and surprizing dis­appointment was it! when he thought his misery had been at an end, to see a new scene of troubles appearing to him more tormenting, and more dreadful than the first. He began to think, the doctrine of invoking Saints, was no­thing improbable, in that he had expe­rimented the necessity on't in his own person. His attempts proved notwith­standing equally insuccessful that way, with his former endeavours: in as much as he wanted a Golden sacrifice to molli­fie the Saints Heart: finding then these Parasites deaf to all his intreaties, in­exorable after all his Prayers; he is finally resolved to make a bold at­tack on Jupiter himself; from him he found a reception full of mercy, good­ness, and generosity, even like the Fountain from whence it flowed: but there casually happened a fair Danae in the way, that received some part of the Golden Shower, and intercepted for [Page 4] some time the rays of that sacred influ­ence. This unfortunate Gentleman's miserable Family had occasion much more to yawn, for want of Bread, than excess of Sleep; and were forced to be very frequent in blessing themselves, lest the Devil should enter their Bodies, as being for the most part defenceless, and empty Houses. The revolutions, Philosophers talk of on occasion of a va­cuum; rather than suffer which, angry Nature would invert the Universe; were oft-times found true in these unhap­py persons, who in their empty Guts found the effects of natures wrath in a horrid grumbling, and an extraordina­ry confused noise. The Peripateticks give us to believe, if two Walls were placed opposite to one another; and the Air extracted from between them, Nature would in an instant bring them both level with the Ground, or make the two Walls meet, and lovingly im­brace each other: By all which I pre­sume they mean no more than this, and what is signified in the vulgar Proverb, That the nature of a hungry Belly has a mighty antipathy to Stone Walls. The Male part of this disconsolate Fami­ly, [Page 5] by divers Arts and Shifts to be ex­ercised in that spacious City, made it their business to avoid these inconveni­ent and griping hardships: but poor distressed Dorothea, her sex not per­mitting her to keep her Brothers com­pany in their frequent sallies, was of the rest, in the most deplorable state: she wanted it seems, a necessary point of Faith, being equally destitute of Food and Rayment. The pressing wants this Virgin had undergone, had suffici­ently armed against all Cupid's darts, and all the dangerous effects of love; Ceres and Bacchus the essential supports of an amorous flame, had been hitherto this fair Maids implacable enemies; what small favours she had received from that Rural Goddess, had such a strong mixture of Gall and Wormwood, as too too much imbittered the benefit, to deserve the tribute of a mean thanks­giving. Among all the Gods and Go­desses, Thetis only remained her con­stant and faithful Friend, and her she payed in her own Coin with daily offe­rings of sacred Vestal Tears.

[Page 6]One day (and it was that dedicated to St. George, and by us particularly cele­brated in memory of our great Kings Coronation, whom Heaven preserve) was the pensive Dorothea left alone in the House to contemplate her own mi­sery and misfortune; She stood at a Window that lookt into the Street, which yet scarce afforded her sight the benefit of the passing objects, it be­ing almost choaked up by a jealous wall that engrossed the fair Dorothea's looks, hindred all that passed from the enjoyment of that charming vision, and deprived the unfortunate Maid of oppor­tunity to gratifie her eyes, the only sense, she was then in a condition to please: In this Melancholy posture was the beau­tiful Virgin constrained to reflect on her self, and not without an inexpressible anguish of Soul, to ruminate on her cruel Fate. After a million of confu­sed thoughts, and some showrs of pre­tious tears, her pitiful but just resent­ments (as she since told me) burst out in these or the like expressions: ‘If something of Christianity, or possibly my Parents Instructions did not at pre­sent influence my Soul; I should cer­tainly [Page 7] at this instant exclaim at provi­dence, and fly in the face of Heaven. I would boldly approach the Almighty's Throne, to know what one action of Dorothea's life, has merited this ri­gid penance, this complication of misery and pain; but since I am taught and commanded sufferance, where there is no room for patience; since I must believe and expect the best, af­ter all hope seems taken away: since I am obliged to think Justice an essen­tial attribute of the Divinity, though I experiment nothing in my own per­son but a cruel severity: since after all I stand engaged to look on the strokes and Thunder that has fallen on me, as the effects of Heavens favour and af­fection, as designed for my future bene­fit, and present amendment; I will, I say if this must be made a part of my Creed, follow the example of other unhappy mortals, who because either they will not, or dare not openly assault Heaven, make to themselves a God­dess of Fortune, whom they first sup­pose blind, and thence make the mark of their rage, fury, and malice: Is it then from this insensible Divinity that [Page 8] our whole Sex remains accursed, con­demned to subjection, and called by the other part of mankind, light, giddy, capricious and unconstant? but whi­ther does my perplexed imagination hurry me? would Heaven, or let it be Fortune, my sufferings were no greater than what are the ordinary at­tendance on my own Sex; it is some ease and satisfaction in affliction, not to be the only sufferer: it is an asswage­ment of our pain, to have companions in our misery: The Yoak becomes less galling when many draw, and the burthen more supportable when divi­ded, and placed on many Shoulders. Unhappy Dorothea! how wretched then and desperate is thy condition? thou hast been from thy Cradle adjudged to a nauseous and solitary confinement, without any sharer of thy sorrow, any to have compassion of thy misery, any to whom thou mightest impart thy mis­fortunes, save these rugged and savage Walls, as deaf, as insensible as thy cru­el destiny; and lastly condemned to bear on thy weak Shoulders, Atlas like, a world of insupportable misery; thou certain­ly hast never yet enjoyed the benefit of [Page 9] a guardian Angel, or tutelary genius, which some think is deputed to super­vise the affairs of every particular indi­vidual; or if fortune has granted thee that only mark of her favour, it is surely one of her own stamp, stupid, blind, neg­ligent and insensible; if he had but once lookt on his charge with a pro­vident or a tender eye, he had certain­ly stifled Dorothea in her Mothers womb, or given her a charitable stroke in her unhappy Cradle: he has it is true de­fended her from all these dangers, sa­ved her from the thousand ways infancy would undo it self, but his care has proved the height of barbarity, and his charity the greatest plague incensed Fortune could pour on the head of the disconsolate and wretched Dorothea. Ah! how oft have I prayed my Fate that I might cease to be, that so I might cease to be unfortunate? How oft have I desired to lose that only mark I enjoy of Fortune's bounty? would she would pay her self with her own gift, and leave me in a pos­sibility to forget the benefit; but me she treats like a monstrous malefactor, like a delinquent of an extraordinary [Page 10] size. I desire to dye, but life is preser­ved as a part of my punishment; I have begged the uncharitable sisters to spin out my thread no longer, to cut it in the midst, but am forced to breath, in spight of all my prayers, all my tears, and all my endeavours.’ Scarce had the bright Maid ended these words, when a knock she heard at the door, made her break off her solitary enter­tainment, and for a time interrupt her doleful Plaints: Glad she was at the opportunity of this diversion, to find occasion to wipe her eyes, and stop her tears, or at least of diverting the current another way. A little, or a great deal rather, of chat is the life of Women, the fifth element on which they live, and which they can as indispensably want, as the air they breath, or their necessary daily bread. The Reader may hence conclude, Dorothea was not slow to open the door, and inform her self who it was that came to make such a charitable visit; she soon discovered, it was one of her own Sex, that seemed so loaden with years as to be scarce able to support the bur­then; she had very near as many fur­rows in her Face, as Hairs on her Head, [Page 11] her Eye-brows were thick and hoary, her eyes appeared the most fruitful parts about her, sending forth a certain yel­low matter, not unlike that which Hawks mute at one season of the Year. there was an uninterrupted communica­tion between her Mouth and Nose in the outside as well as within, held by means of cerose humours that constant­ly distilled from one to the other; her Breasts appeared like a pair of Blad­ders, without the least particle of Air within, and which had hung some Ages in the smoak of a Chimney; her Chin was acute and bending upwards, as if it longed to kiss the under Lip; it was graced with about a dozen hairs pla­ced much after the same order they are in an old Puss, only they were not so pun­gent, but rather resembled that moss or down, which may be seen to sprout from a Dogs T—d. I hope the Reader will supply her other parts with his imagination by the tast I have given of those exposed to view, if he is pleased to fancy her Skin of the same colour, with half-tanned Leather, or her Legs, a pair of Broomsticks cover­ed with Parchment, that had lately suf­fered [Page 12] some injury from the fire, I pre­sume he may do the old Lady no mani­fest injustice. Her Nails were certainly visible, and were much of the length of those that are preserved to tune an Irish Harp: for tho' she came in a good orderly dress, yet she happened that day to have put on a pair of Gloves, I should call them by another name, but cannot think on it, that never had been furnished with Fingers: and so her tallons were laid open to every eye. Dorothea soon per­ceived it was one she never before had seen, but could notwithstanding per­ceive in her countenance the marks of sorrow and discontent; she concluded how busie soever Fortune had been with her, she had been likewise diver­ting her self at the expence of this a­ged Woman: but the injuries she had received from Fortune, were not, she thought, so visible as those large chara­cters time had imprinted in her face, as the marks of his impartial, but cruel hand. After Dorothea had conducted the old Woman into the House, and those ordinary civilities had passed that may be supposed between two stran­gers at the first interview: the aged [Page 13] Matron addressed herself to Dorothea much after this following manner.

‘The Character I had of your beau­ty (fair creature), of the endowments of your mind, and withal, the ill cir­cumstances of your present condition, have brought me this way, and into this place: I am come to lay before you the unhappiness of the state you now live in; what you must expect if you persist therein; am willing to shew you the fittest remedies for your dis­temper, am ready to afford you my best advice, and if you be not wanting to your self, to put an end to all your misery and trouble.’ I need not here (neither indeed is't possible) to ex­press the satisfaction Dorothea received at the hearing these blessed tydings: she returned her thanks in the best terms she could then devise, adding, ‘That her misfortunes rendred her ex­treamly capable of receiving kindnes­ses, which she would at all times gratefully acknowledge.’ Then the old Woman proceeded thus, ‘It is without peradventure (said she) one of the greatest misfortunes that can befall a young Lady, either to be [Page 14] ignorant, or not to have fit opportunities of improving her tender years, so as may most conduce to her future satisfaction, benefit, and advantage, to spend those precious hours in a melancholy and drowsy solitude, in which it was de­signed she should reap that harvest of content in the open Fields of Liber­ty, which love inspires, and Heaven pours down for the delight of youth; is, I say, to pervert the course of nature, to oppose those benign influences she was born under, and to be industrious in procuring her own misery and ruin. The niggardly and covetous Miser has been ever condemned by the universal suffrage of all mankind; in that his wealth serves only to feed his own eyes, and is never permitted to see the Sun. The same guilt does a fair Virgin incur, in an equal degree does she injure the publick, who being Mistress of large possessions of Wit and Beauty, does hide those precious talents, and conceals that inestimable Treasure, from whence the principal part of mankind might pro­bably expect such infinite satisfaction. That person does certainly deserve some thing worse than slavery, who having [Page 15] been for many years detained in a sor­did confinement, should refuse or slight the offers of a generous friend, that would have paid his ransome, broke his chain, the mark of his servitude, and placed him in an honourable and plea­sant station. 'Alas! replyed Dorothea, how unnecessary are your arguments to one in my state? if you have already discover­ed any thing in my person your good­ness calls a valuable treasure: if you can prove so good a Chymist as to extract thence any ease to me, or satis­faction to any part of the World: if your charity disposes you to break my Chain, and relieve an unfortunate Pri­soner; you should presuppose in me such a willingness to comply with your kind proposals, as might supersede the necessity of any perswasive.’ Then the old Dame in the most insinuating and gilded terms, palliated with a Decorum, set forth the necessity there was to ex­pose her beauty to sale, and become a Woman of the Town. She told her that liberty was the first and the greatest be­nefit of nature; that the old World had not been circumscribed by any of those political Laws, which the craft of Priests [Page 16] and cunning of States had introduced to abridge the World of that satisfaction which variety of love affords mankind. She magnified the pleasure, state and pomp enjoyed by Whores, the un­speakable felicity there was in a multi­tude of Lovers and Idolaters: that she was to expect deluges of gold and all o­ther good things this World affords, if she would carefully observe those Rules she would lay before her. That every par­ticular Votary would come as the Hea­thens did to their Temples, with rich oblations of the better part of their wealth. Our youthful years are, continu­ed she, that golden Age so much talkt of by the antient Poets; and which ought to be spent in as great variety of pleasure, as Gold is malleable into di­versity of forms. After we have plen­tifully tasted of those inexpressible sweets that love dispenses, it is then, and not before, a fit time to imitate with chast manners the purity of the Silver Age: or experiment the rigours of the Iron one, under the austere rod of a cruel Husband. Dorothea had already been instructed in the School of necessity, to know this was the only remedy, left to [Page 17] remove the cause of her present dis­temper. The sense she entertained of her birth and quality, had made her at all times resolve against any mean or contemptible Service, the extravagant desire she had of a change, and not being able, or possibly not altogether willing to answer the reasons alledged by the old Seducer, she at last yielded to the powerful efficacy of the Hagg's charms, without being once able to in­voke honour to her assistance, or de­sire the aid of her own reputation. The only obstacle that now remained, which retarded the full conquest, and made her for a few minutes suspend a final and absolute surrender of her self; was the consideration of her own ignorance, in the affairs of the World: this created in her strange fears and jealousies of being unfortunate in the exercise of her intended Trade, which required an honourable begin­ning and appearance in the world, and in which a Lady ought to be preinstru­cted in a systeme of the most curious frauds, and the most winning blandish­ments; if she would ever expect to bring her business to a happy conclusion, [Page 18] or arrive at any degre of an advantagi­ous perfection. These difficulties she proposed to her new Mistriss, as the only Remoras that stopt her longing de­sires to condescend to her opinion, and give her self wholly up to be guided by her. Then the old Lady took the op­portunity to remove all doubts and scru­ples in words to this or the like effect.

Daughter (for so must I call you) the kindnesses I had for your person, even before I was acquainted with it, upon the bare fame of your merits, the pity I entertained for your suffe­rings, and the tender affection now created by my own choice, and those extraordinary qualities I have already discovered at this first encounter, have I say, raised in me strong desires to see you move in a higher sphere, and pla­ced in a station of uncontrouled felici­ty; I am very well able, and yet as willing to instruct you in all those necessary precepts, and acquaint you with those excellent rules, and practi­cal forms by which you may become expert and famous in this Art. I will in a few days discourse illustrate unto you the Whores Rhetorick, in such [Page 19] a plain and an easy method, and paint it in such lively and charming colours, that you will be constrained by both profit and pleasure, to learn, remem­ber, and apply to use my short but suf­ficient Documents.

Be not surprized that under these mean appearances, I should cover such a stock of knowledge, imprinted in me not only by a long study in the theory, but likewise by many years experience in the infallible practick part. I my self in my younger years, was one of those the World calls a Lady of Pleasure; and even in the ex­ercise of this profession, in my most lively and licentious days, I applyed my self likewise to the study of polite Learning. I soon arrived at a remark­able perfection in my own Trade, and in a little time was valued as one of the first rate Whores, for the splen­dor of my Lodgings, and other ne­cessary ornaments, for a graceful and stately behaviour, if not on the score of an agreeable and a handsome face. The memory of my past grandeur, serves now only to increase my pain: and it is but the just reward due to [Page 20] the non-observance of convenient rules I was not then so wise as to contain my self within the bounds of a Rhetorick; my vain curiosity transported me into the wild and unpassible mazes of Phi­losophy, and to dive too far into se­crets of natural Philosophy to gratifie my own fantastical and giddy nature. I fell in love with a dissolute and faith­less fellow, (Ah Daughter! this is the accurst bane of our Sex, but those especially of this Vocation) with whom glutting my self in extravagant pleasures, I fell to discuss the mat­ter and composition of the Heavens in practising delights, which to me seem­ed much more pleasant than the Mu­sick of the Spheres. Then I advanced to the Books of Generation and cor­ruption: and finally passing to the aery abstracted notions of Metaphysicks, I found all my Money exhausted, and reduced to a meer Chimera, in search of those vain and empty Dreams; so that at last I was reduced to theo­logical speculations, and even almost forced to preach up Charity, as a ver­tue, I was constrained for some time to live on: but finding people for the [Page 21] most part extream cold in the exercise of this Grace, I soon quitted the ser­vice, and betook my self to a more gainful and more acceptable imploy­ment. 'I am sorry (good Mother) said Dorothea, smiling, that your curio­sity has been to you of such fatal consequence; but though you have not in all points obtained your ends, though you have not yet perfectly found out the Philosophers Stone, you have, I am confident, made such accidental discoveries, as may suffici­ently make amends for all your labori­ous inquisitions, and satisfie all the reasonable demands of any moderate Scholar. My slender knowledge in­forms me, I ought gladly to build on the experience you have so dearly pur­chased, and rest satisfied with such practical Doctrines as you shall be plea­sed to impart unto me; without en­tertaining any Metaphysical affections, I shall acquiesce in a knowledge of sub­lunary beings, and such of those only, as may afford some profit and advan­tage, as well as pleasure. I will not be solicitous to understand what sub­stance the Heavens are made on; nor [Page 22] to gratifie my ears with the Musick of the Spheres: the sweet melody created by the sound of the Golden Oblations you spoke of, centring in my Purse, is a sound which I presume ought to afford me principal satisfacti­on; and I suppose all my industry, and all my policy ought to be imploy­ed in the acquisition of this profitable Science. 'But pray Mother (continu­ed Dorothea) after such mighty mis­fortunes as you had suffered, when you were by the loss of your Money re­duced to the contemplation of Di­vinity? where was it you then found shelter? what Shore were you cast on after such a dangerous Shipwrack? 'Be­fore I answer any questions of this na­ture, that may interfere with our pre­sent business, you must first give me leave, my dear Dorothea, to applaud the comment you have given my words, and thank Heaven for having found in your Person a disciple after my own Heart, to whom I may, be­fore I leave this World, leave all the choice secrets of my Soul, all those Sovereign Receipts, which being by your care and industry judiciously ap­plied [Page 23] according to the season of the year, the nature, quality and com­plexion of the Patient, will infalli­bly produce marvellous effects, and make you more famous in after ages than the Corinthian Lais, or the other Lady of the same name, that caused Persepolis to be set on fire.

It is the greatest happiness that any mortal is capable of, to be instructed in a prudent conduct, and sage ma­nagement of their affairs, by that ex­perience, which was not gained at first without many hazardous adventures, and a multiplicity of certain dangers. I have already shewed you the fatal rock on which was ship-wrackt my grandeur and reputation; and I hope the experience of errors may render the truth of my Doctrine more per­spicuous, and the validity of my rea­sons more authentick. When the Vi­gour of Youth, and an inordinate de­sire of gratifying my appetite, with­out any regard to necessity or conveni­ence, had swallowed up my pruden­tial faculties; then it was I committed those indiscreet miscarriages, which I [Page 24] could never retrieve but with sorrow and repentance. When my foolish af­fections had overflowed all those pro­fitable pastures, and safe paths, which discerning reason had chalkt out for me; when the spring-tide of my passions, had covered the tops of the highest rocks, and made the face of danger as smooth and calm as that of the wa­ters; then it was that with all my Sails, running before the Winds of Plenty and Pleasure, I irrecoverably lost the Ship of my repose: and glad I was to get to shoar on the two planks of Misery and Want. After this sad disaster, when I had sacrificed my trea­sure to appease the insatiable cravings of a bawling Neptune; when I had lost all hopes of being ever able to Rig out a new Ship; and when the number of my years could scarce per­mit me to undergo the fatigue of a new Voyage; I begun then to think it high time to settle my self on the lazy shoar of ease and temperance. I had ever been in the Spring of my years, one of Cupid's most zealous Votaries: and though impotent na­ture had disabled me from perform­ing [Page 25] any considerable service in the fields of love, otherwise than by be­ing passive in the work; yet my rea­sonable part, the Will, did still retain its primitive heat, vigour, and cou­rage; as an old decripit Souldier, who having received many dangerous wounds, and honourable scars, and is now unfit to give a personal atten­dance in the field, yet by his long experience in the Wars, is able at a distance to win a Battel by his prudent and unerring Rules; and getting him­self carried up to the top of a lofty Tower, he there sits basking before the Sun, feeds his eye with the sight of the numerous Battalions, drawn up in excellent order, and gratifies his ears with the harmonious discord of Drums, Trumpets, and the more warlike sound thundred from the mouths of the im­partial, and all-deciding Cannon. Just so it fared with me in the warfare of Venus: I could not without infinite regret quite abandon that beloved ser­vice, and seeing I could not be princi­pal in the action, I was resolved to be somewhat more than accessary by my servent advice, and bold encourage­ment. [Page 26] Thus then I turned Natures hand-maid, and a Midwife to love, which had often proved abortive, had not my importunate prayers and solici­tations brought it alive into the world, to the infinite satisfaction of the loving pairs. It is now about thirty years since I began to serve the publick in this charitable imployment, and had still continued so to do, had not a malig­nant Jury dispossessed me of my lovely habitation, I had for many years kept in Moor-Fields, to the joy, comfort, and support of the whole amorous Re­publick.

‘'Ah Madam! cryed Doro­thea, interrupting her, how cruel have you been in concealing thus long your name, and thereby hindring me from paying you those respects that are due to the fame and quality of the Lady Creswel? how obscurely soever I have spent the few years, I have alrea­dy past, it has not been without fre­quently hearing of your name, the place of your abode, and the cruel severity you have of late been forced to undergo. Would I could by my own good Fortune, and your wise Precepts, be instrumental in removing [Page 27] all your perplexity and sorrow, as well as the misery of my own state, I shall be extream cautious to avoid all dangerous curiosities, as well as any dangerous and unprofitable amours. I will make it my principal care to suck in those wholesome Instructions your Rhetorick shall furnish me withal: I will be wary not to exceed those bounds and limits which you shall therein be pleased to prescribe me; yet I will withal be more than industrious not to come short, nor fail in the punctual observance of all your injunctions.’ ‘Fair Daughter, replyed the old Wo­man, (who must be called hence for­ward Madam, Mother, or plain Cres­wel, as the case requires) 'you may I am sure, discover evident signs of joy and comfort in my countenance, at the hearing your wise and discreet remarques: I begin to think my good fortune has not utterly forsaken me, forasmuch as I have great incourage­ment to believe your pregnant and towardly genius will prove a blessing to my declining, and become the staff of my old Age. Seeing you are so well prepared to receive my instructi­ons. [Page 28] I will lose no time, but will forthwith expound unto you my pra­ctical Rhetorick, in the easiest and plainest method. I will take care in five days to rig you out, and settle you in a convenient place, where you may see variety of good Company, and be instructed in some necessary parts of conversation: for this and the fixing my prescriptions deeply in your me­mory, I will allow you some months, as many as may seem necessary to ren­der you perfect in these qualifications, which are absolutely necessary, before you may be permitted to open your Shop. You will peradventure be a little surprized to hear me talk to you of things, that cannot be attained without some considerable cost and charge: let not that in the least di­sturb your thoughts, how cruel soever my enemies have been, they have still left me sufficient to support the small remainder of my days, and withal e­nough to gratifie my own humour in shewing you these inconsiderable fa­vours. I have at this day some wor­thy and eminent Debtors, who have been the Kings Lieutenants, Lord-Mayors, [Page 29] and Sheriffs of the City of London: some of them have indeed made me but ingrateful returns of all my favours; if they did believe love still so valuable, as when they were my constant guests, they would be juster in paying their debts, and more mindful of their old Friend. I shall not, sweet Dorothea, detain you any longer in the Porch, but shall with much impatience expect to morrow Morning, when I will return hither, and in a short time illustrate unto you a perfect system of such necessary pre­cepts, on which, if duly observed, you may lay an infallible foundation for the superstructure of Riches and Honour.’ I must here profess my inability to shew the Reader that satisfaction, the young Maid received at these her Mi­stresses last words: she expressed her thanks in a low curtzy, and a submis­sive look: She only told her, The marks of her kindness were so great, she was not able to express her sense of it; but seeing it was impossible to pay her in effects, she would never be want­ing on all occasions to shew her grateful acknowledgments. Then Madam Cres­wel, [Page 30] being desirous to repair towards her own habitation, was about to take her leave, and bid her young Pupil good Night; when Dorothea remembring she had something to ask, for a few minutes retarded her departure, by desiring to be resolved in the following question. ‘Ma­dam, said she, you told me, that after that unlucky miscarriage in your amours, when your good fortune and riches had been split on the rock of credulity, that you chose of all professions to turn Supervisor of Love; I desire then to know, Whether there be any kind of a fatal necessity, that all Whores should terminate their days in this Pro­fession; I hope, Mother, the similitude of the old Souldier does not run on all four; for indeed methinks, I could ne­ver endure to see those delights practi­sed by others, which I my self could not enjoy; it would be to me, I am confident, an excessive torment to be tantalized with those sweets, I were never to tast.’ ‘Heavens forbid, an­swered old Creswel, that ere my pre­cious Jewel should be exposed to the disquiets and inconveniencies of this slavish drudgery, time will not now [Page 31] permit me to shew thee the mysteries of this profession: at a convenient oc­casion, I will either my self, or get one of my younger Sisters to inform you in the most material tricks and tra­pans practised by the Bawds of this Town: some small knowledge in this affair will be expedient to preserve you from their numerous frauds: whilst I live, I will be ever at your elbow, to secure you from danger, and if thou diligently observe my precepts, thou wilt have reason to bless the Flesh and the Bones of thy old Mother, and to love me after I am dead, as I believe you may have good grounds to do as long as I live. But I had almost forgot to answer your pertinent de­mand; which I shall do in telling you there is no manner of necessity you should disquiet your thoughts, with the vain fears of being one day obliged to undergo that weighty charge, which I have near thirty years born on these weak Souldiers. If I had not been a dissolute spend-thrift, I never needed have lost my own liberty and repose, to procure that for others in an extra­ordinary [Page 32] measure: if I had regarded my own profit, or advantage half so much in my green years, as I did the pleasing my fantastical humour, I should not have forfeited my ease in my old age, to gratifie licentious youth in all its capricious and extravagant de­sires. But you, Daughter, I promise a more advantagious fortune: you shall never need turn Bankrupt in love: when you have laid up a plentiful stock for the support of all the con­tingences of this life, and miseries of old Age; when you have plentifully tasted all the varieties love can afford; when you are cloyed with pleasure, and grown weary of venereal pastimes, you shall call in your debts, clear your accompts, and shut up Shop; like a Usurer, who is grown old and tired with cheating, who has quit both Ex­change and Coffee-House on the score of business, only repairs thither some­times for his consolation to rail at the Government, and smoak a Pipe. Af­ter you have suffered sufficient drudge­ry in the Pulpit, you shall rowle into a fat Bishoprick, and there pamper [Page 33] your self in Prelatical pomp and lux­ury. When you have ruined a million of unhappy Clients, that have thrust their cause into your hands, and got a mass of Money, by bawling, cheat­ing and lying; you shall then wrap your self up in lamb-skins, and take a nap on the lazy Bench. When you have acquired a plentiful Fortune, by destroying many Legions of wretched Patients; it will then be a good time to leave of killing, and oblige posterity with some choice Re­ceipts. Finally Dorothea, when you have for a good number of years imi­tated the Courtier, in cringing faw­ning, supplanting, and undermining, and been quite jaded with acting alla Cortegiana, that is, both the Whore and Courtier, you may with pleasure retire to a Country House. The wise Italians by Cortegiano and Cortegiana understand the Courtier and the Trading Lady, thereby intimating that a Whore ought to be furnish­ed with all the Courtly qualities, she ought to be a Female sycophant, or the Courtiers Wise. So Doro­thea, [Page 34] I bid thee adieu: To Morrow Morning expect my return.’

Dorothea.

Good Night, good Mo­ther: and remember I have given my self entirely up to your care and conduct.

The First Dialogue.

M. C.

WEll, now you see me again, fair Daughter, at the time appointed.

Dor.

You are as heartily welcome, Mother, as Money to a needy Whore, or a Reprieve to a condemned Malefa­ctor.

M. C.

It is very well, you will then I hope, lend an attentive Ear, because you seem perswaded of the necessity of it; and not like Aesop's transformed Lady, fly off at the first impertinent occasion.

Dor.

I will hearken to you with the same respect the young Scholar does to his rigid Master, or a zealous Christian to an edifying Sermon.

M. C.

Pray let not your mind go a Wool-gathering; but fancy you see the terrible Rod, and that you are to [Page 36] be horsed for every miscarriage, or sup­pose for every minute your thoughts wander, you incur no less than the guilt of a mortal sin.

Dor.

I shall, Madam.

M. C.

The Whores Rhetorick is no­thing else, but the art to multiply insinu­ating words, and feigned pretences to perswade, and move the minds of those men, who falling into their nets, do become the trophies of their victories. As Trade and Traders increase, so must industry and ingenuity: and there are at this day, such a great plenty of Whores, that to live well, and to continue in that state, it is necessary to understand more than what is vulgar and common.

Dor.

Do not discourage me in the beginning.

M. C.

It is not enough to have a charming person, killing looks, and a graceful meen; cunning, art, and good fortune do the work, all the rest are but meer bubbles.

Dor.

Say you so?

M. C.

It were impossible so many Whores should daily become such spe­ctacles of misery, such objects of pity and compassion, if they would make [Page 37] the right use of half that wit, nature and their own experience has furnished them withal: they needed not fear the Constables Staff, or the justices War­rant, a publick whipping, or a private one in Bridewel, where Sir William knocks, and keeps time with the Lash; they might 'scape the Halter, starving in a corner, rotting of the Canker, or French-Pox, if they were not silly, idle, ridiculous, negligent, absurd asses, sots, extravagant, lewd, the Devil and worse.

Dor.

I believe it indeed.

M. C.

If then notwithstanding, these ignorant bawling, scurrilous, drunken, stripping Sweep-Kennels do some­times work wonders, and govern the World: If Privy Councellours, Judg­es, Aldermen, Doctors, Dukes, Lords, Colonels, Knights and Squires may be made beasts on by these stupid Jades; how thinkest thou might the Cullies be handled by Women of sense and under­standing?

Dor.

We should ride them more un­mercifully than they do their Horses; and make them greater Slaves than the Sally men ever did, or the Algerines.

M. C.
[Page 38]

For this cause it is not every insipid Slut that is qualified for this Trade; and I that am instructed by long experience, do not, you see, pre­cipitate you in this affair, a large stock of knowledge, and the highest point of policy and circumspection is necessary to render a Whore successful in her own art; she must be at least as dexterous in the vending her goods, as the Habber­dasher at putting off his small-ware: and if she knew her own wealth, she has in her Shop no less variety than the Habberdasher in his: for if he can cry Pins, Needles, Laces, Thimbles, and such like stuff; the Whore has likewise in her Magazine dainty words, sweet Kisses, pretty Smiles, and charming Looks, but all this is nothing: she has in her Cabinet, Rubies, Pearls, Emer­aulds, and the joy and melody of the World.

Dor.

I understand you.

M. C.

I have promised you a Rheto­rick, and therefore to make good my word, I must observe some method, and limit my self to a certain order. I have already told you what it is: I will now shew you its object, and the mat­ter [Page 39] about which it is conversant. Inter­est is the subject of this art; and what ever an insatiable avarice can either pre­tend to, or desire, may be included in the object thereof. Invention is prin­cipally necessary in this Art, to frame new pretexts, and a diversity of expres­sions, with reference to the circumstan­ces of person, time and place: and to impose probabilities, or even things utterly false, as certain, and true. A good memory is requisite to avoid con­tradictions, and those inconveniencies, the repetition of the same frauds and artifices would infallibly produce.

Dor.

You proceed methinks very re­gularly.

M. C.

I shall not trouble you with a particular account of those silly divi­sions which those Rhetoricks afford, that are commonly taught in Schools, as the four parts of an Oration, Elocution, and the Doctrine of the Tropes and Figures. The things you shall be parti­cularly informed in; I will only omit the barbarous and insignificant names.

Dor.

Pray do so: and proceed to what is material, till you come to the marrow of the business.

M. C.
[Page 40]

The Regular Priests of the Romish Church, do seemingly take three Vows of Chastity, Poverty, and Obedience; but instead of these they wisely devote themselves to Luxury, avarice, and Dissimulation; in like manner you must put on a seeming modesty even when you exercise the most essen­tial parts of your Profession: you must pretend a contempt of money, that your amorous caresses are purely the effects of love; and a counterfeit humi­lity, as oft as the occasion may require: when in the mean time, your main, and indeed sole aim must be to im­pose on all men, never to stick at any thing how licentious soever, that may forward your designs or interest: your avarice must be insatiable, you must therefore never fly any occasion of increa­sing your stock: and your whole life must be one continued act of dissimulation.

Dor.

I will obey you.

M. C.

On these foundations I intend to superstruct my subsequent discourse: and will for the most part, confine my self to those Doctrines, that may seem to animate a young handsome Lady in this Trade, such as I have chose for a [Page 41] Disciple: without regarding the married Women, Widow, or superficial Maid; who do not obey the dictates of interest, but prostitute themselves meerly to gra­tifie their libidinous appetites. Neither is this discourse directed to Whores, that have already spent some considerable time in the exercise of this Function. To those whom either years, or some personal blemish has made less agree­able, I give only this general caution, to conceal with all possible industry their particular imperfections; and to sup­ply their wants as far as is possible, with abundance of good Chat, rich Cloaths, Flattery, endearing Expressions, and some particular Dexterities to please their Lovers: after all, they will be forced to submit to harder terms than I shall ever suffer you to comply with.

Dor.

I thank you good Mother, in that you are so sensible of my interest as to square your Discourse to my par­ticular necessities; but I am confident your instructions, though directed to me, may be likewise profitable to the cunningest, and most experienced Whore living.

M. C.
[Page 42]

There is a mighty necessity, Daughter, that you in all points conform your self to those obligations your Pro­fession will impose upon you in ways far different from the ordinary artifices of our Sex. We are all, it is true, na­turally inclined to weave fraudulent webs, and to be likewise overjoyed at the suc­cess of our experiments: but a Whore ought to exceed others of her Sex in these undertakings; as many degrees as her opportunities of knowledge, are greater, and her necessities of living by such subtleties may seem to require. She moves in a higher sphere, than the rest of Women; and her actions ought to seem publick-spirited; though Statesman-like, she should contrive them all to meet in the centre of her own par­ticular advantage: You must be furnished with great variety of words, and even those that are most familiar and trivial, to enable you to entertain your Lovers on all subjects: still complying in the choice of the matter with their various tem­pers. This part of Rhetorick is neces­sary to fit you on all occasions, to use ambiguous expressions, and for orna­ment sometimes, synonymous terms; [Page 43] to equivocate, vary and double, accord­ing to your fancy and the present cir­cumstances: all which do extreamly enhaunce the value of your words; and add a particular gallantry to your dis­course. A Whores language in the lasci­vious dialect, is ever to please the pre­sent lover; who always coming to feed on the same dish, ought to enjoy the va­riety of discourse, in such sort that he be not cloyed with his fare, and by con­sequence she lose the efficacy and main end of her eloquence. You must seem altogether insatiable in pleasing your lo­ver; and in multiplying his delight; ever pretending to receive therein your self particular satisfaction; if his expe­rience has taught him divers forms in the enjoyment, gratifie him in condescend­ing to his humour therein: provided his particular generosity challenge this par­ticular treatment. During these ravish­ing minutes be not wanting to afford him a multiplicity of strict imbraces: let your caresses, and ecstasies be some­times inclining to violent, sometimes slow and remiss; but still such as may seem natural, without any artificial constraint, that so he may believe you [Page 44] ravished beyond your self: and be thought, not only to feed him with your body, but to have given likewise your very Soul. Let this be attended with some dying words, soft murmuring sighs, as may be just overheard by your lover. Redoubling the knots of hands and feet, let the Comedy end with some sweet kisses, in which let your tongue gently glide within his lips; that you may seem to have transmitted your Soul that way; whilst he infuses his, in re­turn, at another door. After the dis­junction, be very industriou to drive a­way that repentance, or melancholy ra­ther, which naturally succeeds fruiti­on: to hinder him from nauseating those delights, even for the space of one minute; on which depend the main force of all your perswasions. It will not be amiss, during this intervall, to divert him with an aery Song, or some jocular, and facetious Novel, that may remove all marks of sadness, and pre­pare him for a second assault. When he is ready to depart, has payed for his pleasure (for that I still suppose) and you expect no more of his liberality for that time, be sure to dismiss him with [Page 45] some extraordinary Epilogue, that may soon enforce a return; let your kisses be on this occasion more savory than usual, and your dalliances so exquisite as may create in him strong, and invincible desires, to buy more of your fruit, tho' you should be so cruel as to raise the price. Those are still esteemed the choicest, and are ever the dearest cakes, which do not cloy the Stomach; but only whet its edge, and prepare it for a new meal. Promise him the next time greater satisfaction, and more de­licious fare; make him believe the plea­sures you disperse are so refined and spi­ritualized, that they will always im­prove by a repetition, and increase in proportion, as they become familiar by frequent practice. Give him to under­stand your Treasure is inexhaustible, and that you will never want sufficient reserves; being thus intangled in the net, he will fancy himself always a Prisoner, but when your soft hands loose the knot, and make him free; he will believe every Hour an Age till he may satiate his longing appetite, and revive his Soul with the delicacies of the same repast. Men are oft of opinion, that [Page 46] Women were made only for their en­joyment; so by consequence they will too frequently despise them when the pleasure is over, as they do meat on a full Stomach. Consider then how near­ly it concerns you to know some ex­traordinary arts to engage your Lovers, and make them indivisibly yours (if I may so say) even after the act of se­paration. Your graces must be strong, and your charms irresistable to oblige them to continue their conversation; which must after a time redound to your profit and advantage. Use all men and at all times with terms of the highest ci­vility, a feigned kindness, and a pre­tended affection can suggest: unless some particular disobligation may re­quire the contrary; and then let your resentments be shewed in a stately and scornful contempt; but this I will only allow, when all hopes of further gain are taken away; when your Votary has hardned his heart, not to be reclaimed by reason, nor dissolved by tears. With those that are your familiar and constant Customers you must learn a particular deportment. When you find your Mi­nion imparadised in pleasure, drowned in [Page 47] excess of love, and now scarce able to bear the weight of the joy, it will be then fit you should experiment the ver­tue of your well regulated note, insinu­ate some considerable request, for the which you must never want some plau­sible pretence: at one time you shall feign that some of your moveables of value are pawned for a sum of money (which must be proportioned to his temper and ability) which if not re­deemed by a certain day, then at hand, will be irrecoverably lost; at another time, give him to believe the loss of a Pendent, Ring, or such like utensil, for which you have a singular value, not for the thing it self, but lest you should be thought careless of the Donors favour who must be some particular relation, whom you would by no means disob­lige. You may sometimes complain of an obligation that lyes upon you, to pay a debt at such a day; seem sensible of your present disability, and the damage your credit will receive thereby, your creditor being one of your main bene­factors. At another opportunity you must put on a borrowing face, but with a firm intent to make no restitution. If [Page 48] your lover have a retentive faculty, a­bound with protestations of good will, and excuse with impotence, the contra­riety of effects; put him fairly to it by way of being security: and be sure ne­ver to want a friend on those occasions, that will lend money, having a hint be­fore hand, of the stanchness of the person he is to have as surety; with these and the like inventions, you must strive to keep your Purse, and supply the contingences of any extraordinary charge: For all these purposes take care your Maid be wisely pre-instructed, to shew her Mistriss wholly disinterested, who, she is sure, would not stoop be­neath her decorum, to make any such re­quest, were not her kindness and fami­liarity the occasions of it. It will be necessary your Servant should know on occasion to act the buffoon, or at least many capricious and pleasant humours: that so under the notion of burlesque, all things being permitted her, she may by way of jest, use her earnest endea­vours to fleece the Rivals: her desires must be either moderate, or more ex­orbitant, according to the discretion of the amorous guest. Some are pretty [Page 49] well, or perniciously rather, armed a­gainst a Whores wit: and dare be so hardy, to resist all the shocks of her importunities: but much the greater number, are prone to yield in all these points if discreetly managed; and not a few so weak, as to be imposed on by the Legerdemains of a Servant. Above all things see that your snares be not detected, before you have caught the Woodcock; for if the net be foreseen, even those shallow Animals can avoid the danger. What ever is ac­quired by these means may be reckoned as clear gain, in regard the purchace comes in without trouble; so it is try­ing mens generosity and good nature: when ever a repulse happens in the way, step lightly over it without any apparent regard, or the least trip. There is in­certainty in all traffick; one that will build on no less than infallibility, wants faith, and must never expect any consi­derable return: but she that can run the risque, who can look danger in the face, with a favourable gale, may ar­rive at some degree of eminence, and come off with multiplyed gain. The Documents are good, but yet the rules [Page 50] of commerce are voluble: in as much as there are variety of contracts with the like variety of Persons, it is impos­sible to meet at all times; one and the same humour: however Daughter, be sure to trade in the bank of subtilty, that so your cash may still increase, and your profit advance agreeably to your own desires.

Dor.

What do I hear! I had thoughts to interrupt you several times before you came to this period, but my ears were so busie, I could not make use of my Tongue.

M. C.

You must look on it as the great business of your life, to please others, and enrich your self. Fancy your self subjugated by an inevitable de­cree to satisfie any the most lascivious appetite, provided he comes with Gold in his Purse, and is willing to purchase at your rates. You must forget the di­stinction of Gentleman, and Mecha­nick; but let men be divided in your Books under the names of Poor, Rich, Liberal, and Niggardly. I would in­deed have you only seen with first rate Gallants, in the face of the Sun, and in publick places, but under the shelter [Page 51] of darkness, and covert of the night, lowre your Sail, and condescend to the embraces of inferiour persons, who have oft-times a larger Fond, and are easi­er induced to comply with a Ladies hu­mour. The Emperour that raised a Tax from Piss, to confute one that thought it beneath and inconsistent with the dig­nity of a Prince, produced a heap of Gold that came into his Treasury by that Imposition; Does this, says he, stink of the excrement whence it was drained? Thereby shewing, that money removes all stench, from the meanest action, by vertue of its purging quality. Carry your self at all times with a superficial stateliness, to gain respect, and avoid contempt: but remember to bate some degrees of this gravity, if it either may offend, or be discovered by a dis­cerning Lover. You must in your Cloaths appear beyond all measure rich and magnificent. Young sparks (nay and some that have arrived at years of discretion) do judge of one anothers Wit and Parts, by their dress and garb: so they ever conclude a Woman's at­tractives to increase, with the glittering of fine Cloaths, and sumptuous Lodg­ings. [Page 52] Though I am sure the Coxcombs are almost equally astray in both parti­culars: I would have your Cloaths ra­ther seem grave than gawdy, yet such as may in their splendour shew something of the fantastical, and notwithstanding preserve a decorum. Those Whores are very ill advised, and do ever in short time become crackt and bankrupt in their reputation, who for the humor of strutting about, and to be thought frol­licksome, brisk, and gay, do deviate from the strict rules of sobriety, they ought to observe, into a contrary excess of lewdness and obscenity: they hereby precipitate themselves into open danger, and lose their aim, which was thereby to gain upon their amorous Servants, by falling into open contempt, because impudence was of the same stamp. She ever sells most Ware, and at the best rate, who can handsomely shew its worth, but yet does not seem too fond of the Buyer. Men will be sure to respect those most, who set a high value on themselves, and their own goods. They deal with Women as they do with their Habberdashers; let the Shop be in a gentile part of the Town, have a fair [Page 53] outside, let the Seller be well stored with Shop-Rhetorick, and then he that asks most, is certainly esteemed to vend the best Commodities. But on a seem­ing veneration for Piety and Religion, especially before Strangers, whereby you will be ever valued even by those that have themselves laid aside those con­siderations; but much more by Men of generous and free thoughts. By no means give your self the liberty of Swearing, or drinking to excess; unless on some particular occasion, a young Bubble may encourage you thereto, who is free of his money, and in love with those insipid and unprofitable vices. As to the various modes of fine dressing, Singing, Niceties to be observed in Eat­ing, and Drinking, Behaviour and Cor­versation; I have already told you, that some time is to be laid aside for the learning of these, before you can safely begin the World, all which you must be instructed in at another School.

Dor.

I remember you told me, I was to understand these points, and at your expence too, for which, good Mother, I do again return you my thanks. You [Page 54] are resolved, I find, not to see me defi­cient in any necessary part of breeding; I hope, I shall never give you any rea­son to repent, either your charge or trouble.

M. C.

Among all the qualities of an exact Oration, there is none more ne­cessary or more pleasing, than that it should be stored with numerous and smooth periods, which might gratifie the Ears even of Orators themselves, with their regulated sound, and the har­monious conjunction of all their parts. In the sentiment of my Rhetorick, there is no musick ought to sound so charming­ly in a Whores Ears, as that sweet me­lody created by the clashing of Gold in her own purse: and therefore to multi­ply that, it will be necessary, to increase likewise the multitude of your Lovers. You may rest assured that no conside­rable return can be expected by dealing with one Correspondent (I do not now speak of those whom some personage may keep for his particular diversion) it is the height of folly to depend on the supplies of one Purse, the inevitable ruin of a Whores Fortune, and an in­fallible prologue to a state of beggary. [Page 55] It were much better to comport with a matrimonial Chain, voluntarily to sell your liberty to one Husband, whose per­son and money may be more at your command, than can be expected from an amorous Friend, who must needs be tired with your continual wants, and nauseate your many importunities: but if his hands did not grow weary of in­cessant disbursements, if his inclinations still continued to satisfie all your neces­sities, the mines would be finally ex­hausted, and as the expences would grow greater, the power and ability would daily decrease. Those are only the famous Rivers in the World that re­ceive the tribute of a multitude of in­feriour Brooks; and the Ocean it self could not brag of its vast extent, and unaccountable limits, if its supplies were not unaccountable likewise. Be­ware then, Dorothea, of ever suffering your self to languish miserably at the dis­cretion of one man, by deposing in him the sole hopes of your support and for­tune. A long acquaintance will create a fatal familiarity, and that embolden him to deny you possibly, not only your modest requests, but to raise his domi­nion [Page 56] over you to such a height, as to tread you under his cruel Feet, and with severe blows command you to bury all your demands. If for want of opportu­nities a Woman should be constrained to defend this dangerous post; or at her first appearance on the Stage, she should not be able to establish her for­tune, by a numerous train of admirers; let her be still on her guard, and cautious not to miss laying hold of the first con­venient refuge, but still with discreet re­serves, keeping in her own hands the power to retract, at the first offer of a favourable gale, that may wast her over to any other more advantagious Port. In a change and variety of Lo­vers, you will find occasion to improve your skill in Rhetorick, which in the centre of one mans Breast, in the con­tinual handling one particular matter, would become trite, lose its efficacy, and yield you neither profit nor even pleasure it self. A singular dexterity will be always necessary to keep, to pre­serve the peace among the jealous Ri­vals, to maintain them affectionately devoted toward their Mistriss's service, and ready to comply with their re­spective [Page 57] talents. You must fancy your self supream Governess of an amo­rous Republick. The merit of your Subjects must be valued in proportion to their wealth, and their readiness to open the strings of their purses: so you ought to be nicely impartial in distribu­ting rewards and punishments according to their several merits, or prevaricati­ons; which in your Law must mean, generosity on the one hand, and a re­tentive parsimony on the other. Still encourage loyalty, and an humble de­ference in all your Vassals: pour down the largesses of your favour on those on­ly, of whose fidelity you are well as­sured, and who prove ready at all times to sacrifice what is most dear to them, to your will and pleasure. It is a foolish maxim to oblige your enemies, or strangers, by fancying your self se­cure of your friends Hearts. This piece of policy would certainly ruin you in the end, and leave you destitute of all support. If there happen to be any per­son on whom you may think fit to shew particular marks of your bounty, or whose services have merited some signal reward, be careful not to give [Page 58] him any distaste, or any just ground of discontent, let this be the infallible cri­terion of your servants affection, if he acts in your service, with more regard to your interest than his own particular advantage. Be not wrought on by the impudence or importunity of any baw­ling fellow, to part with the least part of that Treasure, which ought to be wholly reserved to recompense your zealous Servants, and your old friends. Be mindful in a particular manner of those, who stick to you in any adver­sity, it is a sure sign they are disin­terested and fond of shewing their af­fection. (He was certainly a coward, and no wise man, the Emperor, I mean, that first introduced the custome of reclaiming grand Mutineers, with heaping honours on their undeserving heads; and stopping the mouths of the factious with preferment in the state. This is to open a wide gap, for every necessitous, or adventurous Villain to enter the bewitching Fortress of Rebel­lion: and whatever Potentate fancies this the safest way to reduce such to their duty and allegiance, is guilty of the same ignorance and weakness; that [Page 59] would a Physician be, who should administer nourishing Gellies, and re­storative Cordials to his Patient, la­bouring under the flame of a burning Feaver. Every one knows that losing a little Blood, and a sparing, or rather no diet at all, were the only way to have saved his life. So in the first case Phlebotomy is as indispensably necessa­ry, and the only sovereign receipt to cure the calenture of a State, and se­cure the tranquillity of the Body poli­tick.)

Dor.

Why Mother, I think you de­sign to make me a States-woman, as well as knowing in the Rules of Rhe­torick. I shall endeavour to imitate the wise Prince, to shew neither par­tiality, nor cowardize in the administra­tion of my Republick.

M. C.

If it happens at any time, that some one of your favorites does grow enamoured to that degree as to be im­patient of a Rival in your affection; desires to engross you to himself, and make a monopoly of your Wit and Beauty; if his estate be as large as his flame, and his generosity equal to both, I shall approve of your deserting [Page 60] your other Clients to place your self in this easy and pleasant station. Take care however before you enter upon this monastick way of living, to have a convenient maintenance setled du­ring your own life, in case of any contingency, as a rupture between you, his death, or the alteration of his hu­mour. If he chances to be a single man, not yet caught in the noose of Matrimony; you must even out-do your self in all demonstrations of a a fond respect. Exercise on this occa­sion the quintessence of your flattery and dissimulation, and with studied arts, and exquisite inventions, make it appear you have exceeded your pas­sionate Squire, in all the effects of a profound and sincere love. After he is sufficiently convinced in this point, fancies himself the happiest man liv­ing in the fidelity and affection of his Mistriss, and begins to brag of his bright possession, it will then be fit you should entertain some thoughts of seizing the Golden fleece. When you have for some time found the good effects of your knowledge, in gleaning what­ever escapes your keepers hook; or [Page 61] what he is generously pleased to leave behind him; raise then your aspiring thoughts, and consider how you may best make your self capable of enjoy­ing a third part of your future Hus­band's estate, if you should chance to survive him. The Lawyers call this Dower in their Jargon, and tell us it is one of their Ladies prime favorites, and seems in her eyes the most preti­ous Jewel, next to Life and Liberty, that she wears about her rusty and wrin­kled Neck. If these Gentlemen of the Robe would pardon the misprision (for so I am sure they miscall it) I should think this careful provision for married Women might be well termed the cour­tesie of England, in benignly telling them, they may cuckold their Hus­bands all their lives, and yet they shall not be able at their death, to stop this legal current, or hinder their Wives from enjoying that signal courtesy the Law affords them.

Dor.

Pray Madam, pardon me if I interrupt you: I am not desirous to hear any more of the Lawyers; those dragled-tail'd fellows (as I heard my Fa­ther say) are more griping, and have [Page 62] more jilting tricks than I can hope to have after all your instructions. I de­sire to hear what I am more concerned to know, and that is, How I may get a Gentleman of the Gown, not of those Westminster ones, to say Grace between my Spark and me.

M. C.

I thank thee, Child, for not per­mitting me to dwell on these imperti­nents; I love them as little as thou dost, and have much more reason to hate them, since my late overthrow at Westminster; where one of that impu­dent Tribe, cited I know not how ma­ny cases, wherein I had transgressed the Law, and came within the purview of such and such Statutes (for so I remember the mercenary Varlet called it) though I have, as it is well known, made it my business to quell all insur­rections, appease all unlawful emoti­ons, to keep the Kings peace, both by Night and by Day; and to satisfie all men according to their several exi­gences.

Dor.

Ha, ha, ha. I believe you with­out swearing. But do beseech you to come to the point I am to be instructed in.

M. C.
[Page 63]

The remembrance of these dis­asters has put me into a grave humour, and almost into a fit of Devotion; so the next thing I shall inform you, after you have gained those necessary points in the faith of your beloved; is that you must gradually fall into a contem­plation, and a retired humour, and soon after into a pretended deep and constant melancholy: which you must always discover most, when your Gallant may be apt to take notice of the change. You must not be unprovided of the Whole Duty of Man, Practice of Piety, and such like helps to Devoti­on; as having been from the beginning a great pretender to Religion. Order it so, that he may surprize you in a zealous mood, in the midst of an ejaculation, and not without your eyes overcast with tears: he will certainly shew his affection in being extreamly inquisitive, to know the source of your tears, sorrow and discontent: pretend at first, unwillingness to trouble him with a discovery; but after he has re­doubled his importunities, satisfie his curiosity, and remove the mist from before his eyes, by hood-winking him [Page 64] with this or some such answer. ‘I can­not, my dear, (shall you say) but ac­count it a very signal misfortune, and one of the saddest circumstances of my whole life, to be guilty (if I may so say of the innocent) of contributing in any degree to your disquiet, or the disturbance of your, so much by me desired, repose. As I have for the time past, since I had the honour to know you, so I shall for the time to come, and with my last breath, wish you all imaginable satisfaction. Nature, my own choice, and the essential obliga­tions I owe you, those large marks of your generous temper, have made me totally and eternally yours. I find in my self the genuine effects of a sympathetick flame, if by that be meant a strong, a violent, or a spot­less passion: but if such as is created by no known cause, or wherefore no reason can be assigned, then I must confess my affection thus far will not correspond with the name of sympa­thy. It is however, much to be feared, that I am now arrived at a dangerous precipice. I love you, and must ever do so, though my own reason and [Page 65] the dictates of Heaven tell me, I ought to break off this impure communicati­on, and demonstrate my love in other more lawful methods, and more agree­able to our holy Faith. And yet the flame within me is so strong, and has in it so much of a violent sym­pathy, that it forcibly prevails over all the faculties of my Soul, and e­ven deprives me of that liberty, where­on, I thought, had been grounded, ei­ther the hopes of reward, or fears of punishment. It boldly triumphs over my reason, drowns my Faith, and baffles even those supernatural aids, that should enable me to overcome all the most dangerous difficulties: In fine, Sir, I am torn in pieces between love on the one hand, and fear on the other: between the force of Reli­gion, and the stronger powers of an immoderate passion. It is from you then, and only you I may hope for relief, it is you that can cure me of my pain, that can prove the Physician of my Soul, as well as body; and it is you I conjure by our mutual flame, our past joys, your own goodness, and my tears to commiserate the [Page 66] wretched, but still too too loving Dorothea.

Dor.

I protest, Madam, this lecture pleases me extreamly; I am confident it might do feats, if acted to the Life.

M. C.

Thou hast undoubtedly read Cleopatra, Cassandra, Pharamond, and o­thers of that nature, which I protest I never did, and so from those Roman­tick Ladies mayest say something more heroine and gallant than what I can at present suggest. Tell him it would be more insupportable than a thousand deaths, to be bereft of the blessing of his conversation. Beg that he will still permit thee to enjoy the sight of his person, without those impure effects of his love. That you will be ex­treamly satisfied to serve him in any mean capacity, and think it a higher felicity so to do, than to live with any other man upon Earth in the circum­stances of a married Wife. I tell thee again, Child, my crazed fancy cannot soar so high, beyond the Planets, as it ought at this time: my old Minerva wants the encouragement of a quartern of Brandy to spiritualize it for this oc­casion. [Page 67] But faith, Dorothea, if thou wilt be advised by me, tell him in plain English, if he will not make thee his in an honourable way, desire to be excused from supplying any longer the room, and place of his Whore.

Dor.

But what if all this Rhetorick with my own additions should not pre­vail on him to marry me, I hope you would not have me so silly, to quit him only to prove a Woman of my word.

M. C.

By no means, Daughter: But it is forty to one odds if you miscarry; and indeed this is the state I hope to place thee in; and methinks I already see thee at the Helm steering the Ship of this pleasure towards the Port of Bliss, in one continued and uninterrup­ted course, in spight of all the storms and tempests raised by a jealous Hus­band.

Dor.

I take it for granted, seeing you are pleased to give the assurance of your endeavours, to make for me this careful provision. However, I de­sire you will finish your Rhetorick, which you have so much to my sa­tisfaction already begun. You know [Page 68] Madam, knowledge is at least an or­nament to every body, and will be so to me though I should have such a fortune as not to put all your instru­ctions in practice. A wise man will make his Son a Scholar, though he intends him the reversion of a plenti­ful Estate: which may save him the trouble of making a trade of his ac­quisitions, by proclaiming the Gospel, thumbing Littleton, or dissecting Gal­len.

M. C.

You say well: and I will com­ply with your requests, only I shall in my subsequent Discourse, sometimes touch on things in the third person, treat of what a discreet Whore ought to do, but as you have already well observed, all of it is not intended for your practice.

Dor.

Pray be pleased to proceed in that method.

M. C.

When a Lady is kept by a marryed Man, if old, I shall speak of that, when I have done with my general Rules, and descend to par­ticulars.

Dor.

A natural method.

M. C.
[Page 69]

But if the spark be married and young, the same Rules will serve al­ready laid with some abatements. In as much as there is no hopes of decoying him into Matrimony, she must be there­fore particularly industrious to squeez what money she can out of him.

Dor.

I would fain know, Mother, whether a Lady, in this case, might not take now and then the liberty to divert her self with other Lovers, that may probably be more pleasing to her than the maintaining Gentleman: For I fancy he may become in time as troublesome as an impertinent Hus­band.

M. C.

That is a nice point, Daugh­ter. Variety is indeed the Soul of the World; and I would not be so cruel to confine a young Creature to the em­braces of one man, no more than I would to one Dish of Meat, or one Petticoat. But then, Daughter, it is more than necessary to be well assured of the persons discretion, whom she trusts in an affair of this consequence. There is not one in twenty, that is able to conceal his conquests; for men do take more pleasure in divulging their [Page 70] good fortune, than they did in the very actual enjoyment. They can indeed rail at Women as weak and frail Vessels; and yet they themselves are rather more leaky; being as little able to keep an intrigue of this nature undisco­vered, as they are to keep their Cham­bers the day they have put on a new Suit: a discreet reservedness is there­fore necessary, and to be strictly enqui­red into, in regard so few are masters of it. And yet beside that I would not have her run the risque without the tem­ptation of a good summ.

Dor.

I am clearly of that opinion; That if he should prove a Blab, he might not have all the reason to laugh at the Ladies easy nature, and she no means left to make him suitable re­turns. But

Are there no other qualifications requi­red in an amorous confident, beside dis­cretion, and generosity?

M. C.

Only that if he be a person not acquainted with her Guardian, or any of his Friends, there is then the less dan­ger: and therefore such a one is most safe, and may be traded with on more severity.

Dor.
[Page 71]

You have given me satisfa­ction.

M. C.

As to those that live at large, other measures, and different ways of proceeding are necessary to be known, they are daily to encounter a multitude of various humours, and so of course, accidents of the like nature. Their bu­siness and Trade being universal, their cunning and industry ought to be so too. And indeed this general acquaintance, this multiplicity of experiments, is the readiest way, after the foundation of a good Theory, to make a Whore ex­pert in her own business, but without that, unless, I say, she have imbibed some speculative notions, and been in­structed in some preliminary Doctrines, she must fail in the practick part, turn Bankrupt in a short time, and then suf­fer that long series of Misery, which usually attends broken and neglected Whores. Both then are absolutely ne­cessary, a competent stock of knowledge and an industrious application of that learning to use and practice.

Dor.

You talk Philosophically, Ma­dam.

M. C.
[Page 72]

A multitude of Clients does never follow any man, who is not first well read in the Common and Statute Laws; so neither will the inde­fatigable Study of many years make a compleat Lawyer without some consi­derable practice, to whet his judgment, and improve his reading: and seeing I have given the Whore this pattern to walk by, I desire her to be like the Lawyer, well stored with Bar-impudence, not to be run down, by dint of sense nor force of Argument. Let the Whore imitate the Lawyers Christian Patience, in suffering any scurrilous abuse, so the Libertines Purse be suffi­cient to atone the miscarriage: I would have her likewise give her Client a fine story for his Money, as the Law­yer serves his; and lastly let her be sure to hate a poor Lover, as much as the Lawyer does a pauper Cli­ent.

Dor.

Because you say so, I will con­clude, a Whore ought to imitate the Lawyer in these particulars, but sure you would not advise her to be like­wise unmannerly, dull, and slovenly. It is necessary a Whore should have [Page 73] invention (which you said was a part of Rhetorick) and not Lawyer-like to walk, discourse, and even think by precedent.

M. C.

Thou art in the right, Child. But pray give me leave to finish my gene­ral Doctrines, and ease my self of the greatest part of this weighty affair, with as few interruptions, as you can.

Dor.

It is very reasonable: I will obey.

M. C.

The most convenient habitati­on for a Trading Lady, is in a small convenient House of her own, rather than in Lodgings. For in these she will be subject to several Rules, which in a House all at her devotion need not be so much feared. If she lyes at a place of any credit, it will be ex­pected she should observe some rea­sonable hours; then her secret intri­gues will be more liable to a discovery, when pryed into by a whole Family, than if communicated to one or two Maids, that depend on her self, and are her own Creatures. But the far­ther, and main inconveniency of Lodg­ings is, That in them it will be difficult to contrive several small Chambers, or [Page 74] dark places of refuge, just large enough to contain a Bed, which may be easily had in her own House. The use of these is very great to conceal, and entertain at once several Lovers: That while the Maid stands Centinel, to expect, and give her Mistriss warning of some jea­lous Servants arrival, she may have op­portunity to satisfie with a short repast, and a hasty bit, the hunger of another, who will content himself with such a sottish enjoyment, and pay as much for this stollen fruit, as if he purchased in the open Market. There are not a few of this temper, who love to steal these joys, and think them more va­luable than those they obtain with freedom and priviledge; as School-boys love one stollen Apple above twenty fairly come by with ready money. There are a sort of Gentlemen, that are easily gulled into a belief of their being the sole Favorites, and who are only admit­ted to the Ladies bed. These youths are naturally free of their money, and therefore deserve a singular manage­ment. The Whore ought to answer their zeal, in all the demonstrations of a feigned affection: so when the Spark [Page 75] comes to cool his heat, when she is in­gaged in another adventure, and enter­taining a new Servant, the said retreats and lurking holes will stand in principal stead. I knew a Whore (whether more bold or cunning I cannot determine) that used thus to lodge two or three Guests in her several apartments; he that paid best was of the most jealous temper, and whom she was most un­willing to disoblige, was the person to whom she would engage her self for the Nights diversion: so after immoderate riding, beside perhaps the occasional in­centive of some Bottles, had lulled the wearied Traveller into a profound sleep; then would she pay her respective Visits, and satisfie the several exigences of all her Friends. These by places, these dark Conventicles, for the entertain­ment of the family of Love, are more­over extream necessary, for both the hy­pocritical and the cowardly Lover, him that thinks to cheat the eyes of Heaven, as well as those of the World; and him that loves the sport, but believes it unnecessary to appear in the Fields of Venus with drawn Swords, and who thinks a treat of love never the more [Page 76] unsavory for wanting the dry sauce of a bastinado, or the more genteel relish of a thrust in Cart.

Dor.

Will any Man be fond of a Ladies company, coming hot from the embraces of a Stranger?

M. C.

A Lady that uses this strata­gem, should make her private Lodger believe, she has only in her own Cham­ber a precise Female Friend, or some such pretence: but as I was saying, These two sorts of men are always to be led blindfold into one of these amo­rous Cells, and though there were no need of this wary and severe conduct, yet it is necessary to make it seem so, by magnifying the danger they would both incur, if their commerce were found out by her keeper, who must be re­presented either a fighting Blade, or one that loves to expose reserved and sober Lovers. On such terms the Cullies will pay any rate for a reserved entertain­ment; and think they arrive at the high­est pitch of felicity, when they meet a Whore that pretends to love a secure privacy, and discreet to mannage them according to their several failings. Such Squires will be credulous enough [Page 77] to believe this circumspection is all but necessary: so their appetites must increase as does the Ladies caution; and her dainties still the higher prized, the more seeming difficulties there go to the purchase: beside this, they may be made condescend to any terms, to wait of their Mistriss at her hours, receive her assignations as may best square with her convenience, how prejudicial soever to their own; and will finally remain full well satisfied to get with Foot in Stirrop, one hasty imbrace; and having once dis­charged, will streightway turn tail, as do the barbarous Moors after the first vol­ley, not daring to abide the shock of a second encounter, like brave Christian combatants. They will persevere in their liberality, to procure a secret con­tinuance of the amorous theft, much more, so they might be permitted to feed after the manner of the Country Mouse, without fear of disturbance, or danger of the Bullies rude visit, to make up an unwelcome second course. This the Whore must still fairly promise, but ever as slow in the performance, protesting she will study all means to secure a long entertainment, giving them by little [Page 78] and little larger hopes; so gradually draining their Pockets, she shall at length feed them with the prospect of a whole Nights regal. She may render her pro­mises more plausible, and her preten­ces more authentick, by shewing that her Guardian is soon to take a progress into the Country, where he intends to make some considerable stay; that then all things will naturally tend to their mutual pleasure and content; so the good man will live on these fancies, and lest he should be baulked of his hopes, will be sure to keep the jest warm, and alive with ready Money. These are the blessed minutes that bring in the golden Tribute, that dissolve these facil Deities into plentiful showrs, with a short and an easy prayer, an empty and vain promise. Several of these intri­gues may be carried on every day, in that they consume but little time, and do scarce admit of any impediment. Special heed must be taken to avoid confusion, which must be done by ad­justing assignations to her best advantage and opportunity: and having strong ex­cuses at hand, to apologise for any ac­cidental or necessary failure. Let her [Page 79] call one of her Customers Brother, a­nother Unkle, a third Cousin, that so the conversation of such being without suspicion; this may serve on occasion as a good reserve, to remedy any inconve­nience that may happen from a jealous Servant, when such Friends are casually surprized, or taken napping in the House. It will be expedient that some of these Relations should sometimes make their visits, as if by accident, when they know the paramour is ingaged with his Lady; who having civilly passed some time in an indifferent con­versation, such as may bespeak consan­guinity, and then formally taking his congé, with a, good night Cousin; will hereby justifie the Whore's sincerity, and for the future remove all shadows of doubt from the formerly suspicious Lo­ver. The pretext of being married may draw Customers, if well carried on of her side, and if she can likewise light of a loose fellow, who will not be wanting in playing his own part. I need scarce mention in this Rhetorick, the ne­cessity a Whore has of keeping a con­tinual and strict correspondence with some particular Bawd; it being a thing [Page 80] so well known, and universally practi­sed. These Brokers are as necessary in love, as the Spaniel to the Sportsman, first to nose out the game, and then to drive it into the Net, or cunningly to surprize, till the Whore draws the Net over, and all fear of escaping is taken away: and then too they will Spaniel-like, if the Whore be not expert at her Trade, be too nimble for her in seizing the prey, and taking to themselves the first pluck. It will not be amiss howe­ver to conceal her keeping intelligence with these Emissaries, but especially from those they intend to possess with a belief of being kept, married, or a hater of multiplicity of amorous cares­ses. When a young Woman is often seen in company of any known she-Scout, every body will conclude her business is great, her designs general, and that she intends to prove a latitudi­narian in Love. I would have her al­low the Bawd, a certain proportion out of every pound acquired by the old La­dies industry and negotiation; And not any certain sallary by the Month, Quar­ter, or Year; for seeing that were to be still the same, she might prove negligent [Page 81] and remiss in her Embassies: but when her gain is to increase proportionably with her own diligence, abundance of expedition may then be expected, and frequent returns of plentiful and secure profit. Herein imitating a discreet Mer­chant, who thinks it more for his ad­vantage to allow the Pilot a small share in the Cargo, than a certain monthly stipend: wisely considering though his life be concerned in the welfare of the Ship; yet the hopes of lucre, are oft­times more regarded than even the con­sideration of life it self, and may pro­bably add more to his vigilance and care, than that first natural principle of self-preservation. When the Lady and her inamorato meet to Sup at the Bawd's House, (which must not be neglected, if she would not incur the old Dames displeasure, and endanger a rupture) she must not be wanting to find ways of enhansing the reckoning: what ever Wine the Spark likes, the young Lady must make some pretence for disliking the same at that time; I am sure the old one will be for a third: and the like rule being observed in eatables, variety of Wine and Dishes will easily mount be­fore [Page 82] parting to a round summ. If there be an Oyster-Woman within half a mile, she shall be commanded from her Post, and pre-instructed to pass by the door at full cry, and if not called in by order of the treating Squire, to enter without invitation, opening one or two of the Cock-Oysters, (which she knows better by half than a Jockey does a found Horse) she will transgress the rules of good manners, in serving the Gentleman before the Lady, because forsooth, it is he must pay for the peck. So according to the season of the year, and what is most grateful to the old tooth, occasions will be found to in­troduce the several retailers, and the modest Lover no Christian liberty left, of saying yea or nay, but (to invert the vulgar saying) is forced to receive all whether Fish or not that comes to the Net The same method is to be fol­lowed, and larger opportunities of spen­ding are then to be found, when the pair of Lovers lye all Night at the Bawds House.

Dor.

Have these procuring Gentlewo­men, accommodation of Beds in their Habitations?

M. C.
[Page 83]

Some have, and some have not. And that happens as the Bawds business and ability concur. These amorous Inns sometimes are furnished with all necessaries in Love, good Wine, neat Chambers, and delicate Beds. It is the custome in some of these for the Lady Procuratrix to furnish the Whore also; so for Lady, Supper, and Lodging the hungry guest may pay without any trou­ble, a certain sum to the Mistriss of the Family: but then in this case you may believe, there will be no variety, as when the Gentleman does not stipulate in any certainty, but brings his Mistriss along with him, and pays according to what he calls for.

Dor.

I suppose Gentlemen would be for paying a certain sum for all toge­ther.

M. C.

Then Child, they depend on the courtesie of the old Hostess in the choice of their Bedfellow, who is still quali­fied according to the Gentlemans extra­ordinary generosity. Didst thou never hear of the Inn by this Town, where one side of the House is set apart for wea­ry Travellers, the other for languishing Lovers, where the Stage-Coach goes [Page 84] to one division; and the leathern Bawdy House to the other?

Dor.

Never in my life.

M. C.

I dare not speak it out, lest some body should over-hear, and tell the Inn-keeper, who would certainly bring his Action upon the Case, and recover damages, but I will tell thee in thy ear, it is the Swan at K. B.

Dor.

This puts me in mind of the Ita­lian I have heard on, That could look grave on one side his Face, and smile on the other, that laught with one Eye, and wept with the other. And this, Mother, by a chain of thoughts brings Heraclitus Ridens into my memory,

M. C.

Take care you have not forgot your promise of giving a serious at­tention.

Dor.

By no means.

M. C.

I would here adorn my Rheto­rick with some Rules, by which my young Pupil might learn to impose on my Sisters of the procuring Trade, but that I foresee an absolute impossibility in the attempt. She or he that intends to sharp on a Bawd, (I will use that word) must get up before Lucifer, and be stored with more cunning, than was [Page 85] the old Serpent that cheated our Grand­mother Eve. They have all exercised the Whores Function, whilst any mortal man would give them leave, by joyning in the business. And even after many years practice of Bawdery, (I speak experimentally) they are over-joyed, when any rampant youth, overflowed with Wine, to shew the greatness of his courage, and sharpness of his Stomach, will for once cure their Itch, by rubbing their superannuated Tails. Mr. Hobbs, Child, says well, that Wisdom is no­thing but experience; so by consequence the Bawd must surpass all mankind in point of Wisdom, in as much as her experimental knowledge does exceed all others. She has read more Men than any mortal has Books, she has spent more oyl and more pains in quest of knowledge, than the most laborious of the antient Philosophers; and has been more unwearied in her nocturnal elucu­brations, than the most severe of the old cloystered Monks. Let my Scholar then be advised by me, who is now grown old, and full of years in the ex­ercise of both faculties; that it will be prudence not to aspire to this inacces­sible [Page 86] point of knowledge; the Bawd will ever prove too hard for her in the Politicks, though she invoked Hell to her aid. Let it suffice her to under­stand the old Rooks false Dice, to hin­der her self from being passive in the cheat: if she aims higher, to reach at the forbidden. Fruit, she must not ex­pect to reap knowledge thereby; but will only disclose her ignorance, and make her nakedness visible to her self and others.

Dor.

I am mightily afraid of these Bawds, pray give me a particular account of their State-Policy. But sure Mo­ther, they are not so cunning as Gyp­sies.

M. C.

Aegyptians, Child, are Asses to them; there is more difference be­tween the two, than between a learned Physician and an impudent, assuming Mountebank. At our next meeting, I will give thee a tast of these sowre Ap­ples, or get one of my younger Sisters to do it at a fit time; I wish they may not set thy Teeth on edge.

Dor.

Fear not that.

M. C.
[Page 87]

Next to these love Embassa­dresses now spoke of; it is fit my Dis­ciple should make it her business never to want an interest in those Houses, where foreign Embassadors and other Strangers of quality lodge. Among these there is never wanting good store of Gold, nor a number of Woodcocks, that will with open Eyes fly into the Net. It may be an argument strong e­nough to gain her a reputation, in the opinion of these Gentlemen, to pretend they are not to be admitted without a mighty privacy, her carriage and con­duct being lookt after with a jealous eye, that she might forfeit her dears kindness by taking this liberty: his generosity must be exalted at this time, that she may not seem to act out of a principle of necessity; so her caresses will be more valued and rewarded in an extraordinary manner; as men are commonly at grea­ter expence in a Gentlemans House, than a publick Inn. The same rule may be used to good purpose with some of her domestick acquaintance. She will find it much to her advantage, to enquire particularly into the state and quality of all her Suitors affairs, to hinder any dis­appointment [Page 88] or surprize: for if she has well informed her self of their busy hours, and when the necessities of their vocation, or the impulse of pleasure, do oblige their attendance; it will be easy to appoint times of meeting, as may give general satisfaction, and enable her to observe her particular engage­ments. This enquiry into the condition of her Lovers may be in another respect of no mean use. It is hard to know a mans temper from the lines of his Face, or any other extrinsick mark; and it is no less difficult to give a Judgment of his for­tune, or estate, by his spending, or the figure he makes in the World. Some Men are for this day, and let to morrow provide for it self; others look on fu­turities; remember the precedent of the Ant, in providing against a wet day. Some imitate the Snail, I do not mean in their gate, but in carrying their Hou­ses on their backs; others are solicitous to satiate their Bellies, and a third to re­plenish his Purse. A Whore then ought to understand Men in all these circum­stances, to avoid contracting a familiarity, or making any strict alliances with such as live beyond their bounds, and promise [Page 89] in short time to become Bankrupts. This were an unnecessary precept, if I could suppose my Scholar, upon her guard on all seasons and hours: for then she might be trusted to deal with any extravagants, who are the best Friends, and the most generous Lovers, whilst the Fond lasts: and therefore are for a time extreamly necessary; but when they break, it is almost impossible for a young Lady not to ingage her self in their ruinous fortune. So that it is rea­sonable to suppose a Woman frail in this case: Daily experience, and the destru­ction of many credulous Whores, do evince the truth of this. They find their Gallants in the beginning of their amour, for the most part kind and gene­rous; but in a few Months acquaintance, familiarity will (if the Whores dis­cretion do not prevent it) blunt the edge of both, or at least the Squires want will produce the same effect. Let her then be acquainted with her Lovers con­dition, to know how long his stock will last, and when it may seem reasonable to discard him; which must be punctually put in execution, the first minute he be­comes necessitated to fail in his usual re­spects: [Page 90] unless she intends to bring, not an old, but which is worse, an empty House on her Head, and be forced to contribute to the support of this useless and unnecessary tool. When fortune deserts the man, let the Whore do so too, without retaining the least sense of her old acquaintance, their mutual joys, or his past generosity.

Dor.

In so doing she is but fashionable, and does but conform her self to the mode of the times, which I think a Whore ought always to observe, when publick practice and her own interest do joyn hand in hand, and run together in the same stream.

M. C.

She that exposes her Soul and Body for gain is more than a fool, to be influenced in any degree, by either the obligations of Friendship, the Laws of Justice or points of Honour. How­ever, it is requisite she should on all oc­casions preach Doctrines quite contrary to what I have recommended to her own practice. She must make shew of being disinterested in all her actions; that not one look, kiss, touch, caress, embrace, flows from any other source than the pure Fountain of an unspotted af­fection. [Page 91] When she is in company of her several Admirers, an indifferent reserved, and equal carriage will be con­venient, unless it be found expedi­ent at certain times, to shew the most liberal and rich of the whole covey, some particular favours, whereby the others may grow jealous, and study to raise themselves in her good liking by some extraordinary piece of gallantry. Privately let each one be the Dear, and the Beloved: and let her feign the pre­sent Lovers joys are singularized with se­veral prerogatives not dispensed to o­thers, in that degree and quality. Let her pretend a mighty abhorrence to the embraces of many; and that she nause­ates nothing in nature so much as to be­come a Prostitute to the lust of any, but him she actually enjoys. This will improve the sense of his pleasure, make each bit go down with a gusto, and as it swells his content, it will at the same time enhaunse her Tribute. Thus the consort of her amours will never be found to jar, but still in a condition to raise a harmonoius and seeming, if not a real satisfaction in their Souls, who come for the gratification of their ex­terior [Page 92] senses. I would have her forward on all occasions, to proclaim the gene­rosity of any Servant, both to encou­rage the continuance of it by this coun­terfeit gratitude, and to excite others by this example to the like performance. This will be an infallible means to ex­tort money from a wounded Lover, one who has folly enough to fall in love, and faith to believe a possbility of any kind returns; he will strive to exceed e­very body in profuse regals, not only to be respected in an equal degree with o­thers; but likewise to banish all other pretenders from her grace and favour; whose person he will hope to engross to himself by supplying all her wants, and removing all necessity of depending on other Lovers. If he be a youth of Fortune, one fit for a Husband, let her not fail to play her part at this time, with more than usual dexterity. The same rules I have already given thee, will suite this occasion, and if opportu­nity be caught by the foretop, they will prove of force sufficient to over­come the weak and negligent guard, kept by unwary youth: provided also a propitious fortune do concur in the bu­siness. [Page 93] If Matrimony do not ensue, let her however not be wanting to pluck the master Feather from the Goose-wing, and to shew her trophies to the next Bird that comes to the Net, to encourage him the more freely to part with his own: thus wheeling round in an eternal circle of fraud, she will fulfil the Vows of Avarice and Dissimulation, taken at her initiation; and soon place her self in a station beyond the reach of malice, or the stroaks of fortune. It is unneces­sary to prescribe any farther Rules to drain the inamoured Cully: he will suf­fer himself to be patiently fleaed, and so becomes rather the object of her pity, the dishonourable trophy of an easy conquest, than the noble victim that withstood the force of repeated strokes; but fell at last a sacrifice to the irresistable power of a well laid counsel, and the magical artifice of a counterfeit look. With young Men, that have lately dropt from under a Mothers or a Tutors Wing; a Whores great work is at first, rather to captivate their Heart, than win their Purse; be­cause enjoying the first, entitles her to an absolute Soveraignity over the last. [Page 94] A handful of Modesty, a drachm of feign­ed Piety, and a scruple of counterfeit Chastity, is a Recipe, with a probatum est, to intoxicate any tender Heart. Keep him fasting, he will pray with more zeal, nor will he fail to make his approach to the Whores Shrine with a magnificent Oblation.

Dor.

Pray, Madam, when the Bawd prescribes to a young Whore her Patient, who must be the Apothecary to com­pound the Medicine?

M. C.

Thou hast just now entertained a wicked thought; for I fancy thou be­lievest the Apothecary must be no less than Master Satan.

Dor.

Ne'er stir not I.

M. C.

I remember a Whore not ma­ny years since, that attempted several times to enslave a young rich Heir, who had just thrown off his Oxford Habili­ments (though with a saving for the truth, because it might be he was of Cambridge) and had yet scarce wore off the gloss of his first London Suit. After the ill success of some projects, occasi­oned rather by unlucky accidents than either her ill management, or the Esquires discretion. She is at last resolved to make [Page 95] her self up to the Ears in Love, that she can neither eat, drink, nor sleep with­out the dear Creatures company: she entertains him several times at her own Lodgings, presents him with some toys of small value, and never a Week pas­ses without some dying Letters conveyed to him by means of her trusty Maid, who at the delivery of each, harangues the Youth with her Mistresses quality and vertues: and that she had rather suf­fer a thousand deaths, than have her re­putation exposed by a discovery of this epistolary correspondence. She intreats the sweet Boy to tear off the name [...] bottom, (though the true name he had not yet known) lest any of them might be lost, or some other unthought of ac­cident should make it known, that her Lady used this freedom, to which, she is sure, nothing but the greatness of her passion could have possibly inclined her.

The milky Youth was far overchar­ged with all this weight of kindness; one might have seen all the Ladies fa­vours writ on his Brow in large Chara­cters: he went strutting up and down, shewing the Letters, and the Presents, to all he met. This singular treatment [Page 96] raised him much above himself, firmly believing all her protestations real, as if they had proceeded from the simplicity of his own heart, and that the charms of Person and Parts had made this ab­solute conquest over the fair Lady. But withal her fondness slackned his respect, and the further she proceeded in the de­monstration of her flame, the higher he stood on his punctilioes, and at length arrived to that degree of familiarity (though not without a blush in his pret­ty Cheeks) as to reach his hand toward the basket of fruit, which she had resol­ved should be forbidden till the Parson had tyed the knot, and given a blessing to their future endeavours.

Dor.

I find you were particularly in­formed in this intrigue.

M. C.

She thought it expedient to carry the joque one story higher; order­ing a flippant young Fellow of her ac­quaintance, to call at her Lodgings, when he knew the Heir was there, and to personate a Man of quality, and a passionate Servant of her Ladyship. Ac­cordingly the Mock-Lover comes, and as he was mounting the Stairs; the La­dy desired her Dear (who came a little [Page 97] before) to retire into the Closet, for that the Knight, who was coming up was a troublesome Servant of hers, whom for his sake, she was forced to hate. The Youth obeys, and the Lo­ver enters. He was a person well qua­lified for such a piece of Service, be­ing by name a Player, one that could not walk the Street, but in the same me­thod he trod the Stage, and was still full of the Hero he there represented. He had by several years instructions attained the art of accenting a number of fine words, which he no more understood, than does the honest Parrot intend to abuse the Charioteer, when she makes him whip and drive, by having inno­cently cryed, Coach, Coach. This Gen­tleman-actor was a plagiary for every thought of his mind, and every word that proceeded out of his regular Lips: The Poet, on whose person he daily committed notorious Robberies, is not by half such a bold borrower; for what the French or Italians lend him, he must at least be a Translator in the Case, to make it appear in a vulgar dress: or when he makes bold with his Country men, he then transubstantiates the mat­ter, [Page 98] so that to a resigned judgment, and an implicit faith, it seems a new sub­stance, without the least remainder of its original qualities.

Dor.

If I do not interrupt you, you will make this digression too long. Therefore be pleased to remember how the Lady entertained the Play­er.

M. C.

The Wight thus equipped en­tred the Chamber, made his honours to the Lady, and was by her received with those respects, his forged quality, his acquired merits, and her design might well challenge: after abundance of he­roick Love, spoke sometimes in Prose, then in Numbers, he at length came plainly to unfold the scene of his passion; the Lady then began to act her part, tel­ling him, in terms better than I can think of, That her heart was already preinga­ged to one, who tho' too too cruel, had yet forcibly captivated all her thoughts, and how insensible soever he proved, must ever seem charming in her eyes, and deserving all her Sighs and Tears, and all the Affection that could be crow­ded into a passionate and tender Soul.

Dor.
[Page 99]

What will all this come to?

M. C.

The noble Histrio that day put on the face of a murthering Hector, though love was now his business; I will not be particular for fear of lying, but you may suppose it was Almanzor's, and that in his strain he spoke things that would have made Oroondates blush; but Almahide was that day cloathed with more than ordinary cruelty, and in her purple Robes was about to pronounce the Sentence of death, or perpetual Ba­nishment, when the Bravo made his exit, in hopes, as he said, That a gentler air would calm the disturbed Ocean of her Brow: the same did the beautiful Endy­mion, with more than usual state, ha­ving his Luna'S passion confirmed by the undeniable testimony of his own Ears. But in short, to come to the conclu­sion of the Ladies stratagem, and I to the end of my story.

Dor.

That I earnestly long for.

M. C.

The next time the adamantine Lover came to pay his Mistress a Visit; she gave her Maid orders to tell him her Lady was busy, and could not be seen at that time. At first he thought it was but the Maids own humour, but as he [Page 100] was pushing forward, she somewhat rudely repulsed him with the repetition of the same orders. He marched off with his usual gallantry; but not being called back as he expected, he pre­sently began to discover in himself the symptomes of sorrow and repentance for his severe carriage to such a fair and such a passionate Lady. Those thoughts he diverted with some pain, for that Night, being confident to meet his Mistress next day in her usual temper. But coming at his old rate the following Evening; all his hopes were dashed in pieces, by a sharp message delivered him by the Maid, and a cruel Letter, such as he never could have dreamed of, from such a tender hearted and compas­sionate Maid.

Dor.

What did the Letter contain?

M. C.

I cannot particularly tell you, but I presume a lively representation of her just resentments. However it was, the Youth found himself struck with something more than ordinary thunder, and greater confusion than was Phaeton that day he fell from his Fathers Coach­box. With much ado home he got all in a cold fit, with liquid Eyes, and [Page 101] Joynts trembling, just as they would after a tedious and lingring distemper. He began to ruminate on this surprizing alteration, he found himself guilty in all points; he was his own Accuser, his own Judge, and if his good genius had not hindred those dire effects, he had proved likewise his own Executioner.

Dor.

Would not the Lawyers have then called him Felo de se?

M. C.

The Lady appeared in his eyes far more lovely, and more ravishing than ever. Her Fidelity, Vertue, and the Constancy of her passion, were so many Vultures, preying on his broken heart: in fine, he was resolved to make amends for his past coldness, by the zeal and warmth of his future passion; and either recover his lost bliss, or follow his Brother Naroissus in the same or the like unseasonable fate. In these contem­plations he spent the whole night, in spight of Morpheus and all his Opium. As soon as Madam Aurora gave him leave, he called for Pen, Ink and Paper, and wrote to his incensed Lady, the most passionate, most humble, and most peni­tentiall Epistle, that ever dropt from a Goose-quill.

Dor.
[Page 102]

What were the effects of it?

M. C.

The angry Queen returned an answer, of force enough just to revive so much of his drooping Spirits as did enable him to appear before her. What she did, or what she said, I protest, Child, I have forgot. But this I can well assure thee, that within three days Hy­men's noose was made fast, and I hear she proves a good Wife, and extream happy in a most dutiful Husband.

Dor.

I am this Ladies slave in a chain. She must indeed have offered her Hus­band abundant satisfaction, having been so well managed to his hand.

M. C.

She was indeed, Daughter, a young Lady that had extraordinary charms in her person: and yet nature had taken more care in furnishing the in­side, for she was Mistress of more wit than beauty.

Dor.

I could almost fall in love with her.

M. C.

If thou hadst seen her ingenious quaint Love-Letters she wrote to her now Husband, thou wouldest be yet much more taken with her.

Dor.

If your memory be so kind to you as to remember any of them, pray [Page 103] oblige me with a repetition, they may perchance be useful to me on the same occasion your Lady wrote them.

M. C.

I remember some notions of one, but it would interfere with our business; besides I should do the Lady a great piece of injustice, to rehearse it in worse terms than it flowed from her Pen.

Dor.

I shall rest satisfied to have it your own way.

M. C.

I am willing to satisfie all thy desires. The Letter which I remember best, was comprized in these words.

My Heart,

THE consideration of the sinister fame that some ill Women ac­quire our Sex, does at present whol­ly confound me; who by their base treachery and dissimulation, discredit the vertue and sincerity of others. I am full of doubts and jealousies, My dearest life, that you do not judge a­right of my passion, else there would be a return on your part, you would think it justice to give me your heart in exchange for mine you are already pos­sest of, at least endeavour to retaliate [Page 104] the ardour of my affection, and ease a dying heart of the torture of a burn­ning flame. Oh! Heaven protect me from the sin of infidelity. I shall cease to be a Woman, nay to be at all be­fore this can ever prejudice the desire I have to be loved again. If incon­stancy be inseparable from a Womans Heart, I will deprive my self of life, to abandon those principles which ren­der me unworthy of your affection, and make me an unfortunate Lover. Have you a care not to give way to injustice, cruelty, and ingratitude un­der the pretext of any unreasonable suspicion; for none of those ordinary failings can have any shelter, any re­ceptacle in the purity of my faithful mind. If things ordinary and com­mon are likewise contemptible, and if it is the scarcity that makes things va­luable, my love can never be too highly prized, in that it is far from common, such as is no where to be found but in the centre of my own Breast, and can never admit of any pa­rallel. If I have in any degree trans­gressed those rules of decency, young Ladies have prescribed themselves, it [Page 105] is you, and you only, that could have been the Author of my miscarriage. If you have made me forget the di­ctates a severe modesty would enjoyn (which I had yet hitherto preserved inviolated) you ought not first to act the Seducer's part, and then like­wise to inflict the punishment. I know the writing of this single Letter, is a crime, for which I never can make sufficient atonement, and yet I am irresistably hurried on to the commit­tal of it. I clearly see those plain, and safe paths, honour and prudence have chalked out for me, but not­withstanding my uncontrollable fate drives me on in the rugged course of a precipitate and indecent love. See­ing then it is impossible not to love you, it is equally impossible my love should be fictitious. You may assure your self, there can be nothing Wo­manish that is inconstant in that af­fection, which has for its basis the starry firmament of your charming countenance. That flame can never be corrupted nor consumed, that has chose for its seat the Heaven of your face, for its Sphere, the light of your [Page 106] bright Eyes, and the splendor of your shining Vertues. Be not then insen­sible, my pretious hope, after my tears and prayers flowing from the un­tainted source of your Adorer's Eyes, and that pure fountain of immaculate love, the unfortunate Catherina's lan­guishing and distressed Soul. I will again be guilty, by turning suppliant once more. Consider then I beseech you, my pain, of which you have been the sole cause. It is vertuous and just you should apply a remedy to those wounds, which as they have been created by you, so they can only be cured by an excess of your generous goodness.

Katharina.
Dor.

I like the Letter well; if it were not a little too tedious, and the flights seem a little too high to be thought real: among the old Romantick Heathens such braveries might pass, but they can scarce be digested among Chri­stians.

M. C.

It is very well, Daughter! First you will have me satisfie your cu­riosity, and then you find fault with [Page 107] what I say: like a bold Guest, that thrusts himself uninvited to a Gentle­mans Table, and then finds fault with his entertainment.

Dor.

Pardon me, Madam. A mo­dest censure is no finding fault with what you say. The Letter was good, but e­very thing has its defects, so that is best which has the fewest imperfe­ctions.

M. C.

She considered the person to whom she addressed her self: but ma­ny other Letters were more concise, of a more sober and perswasive strain. Pray Heaven, Child, thou mayest have ver­tue to follow the wise Katharines sage and unerring foot-steps.

Dor.

Amen.

M. C.

A Whores eloquence, as if it were an artificial composition, has no small resemblence to the Body natural: for it pretends to a distinction of Mem­bers, some essential, others for orna­ment, which chaining together the seve­ral periods, render the work perfect, and intire. I will therefore follow the Idea this example sets before me, in giving some further Laws to make the conjunction more agreeable, in which [Page 108] consists the last part of a Womans per­swasive; and in like manner in this Ve­nereal act, there are some things indi­spensably necessary, others, like a Fringe or Lace to a Petticoat, are added in con­formity to the mode or humour of man, and so, requisite to make the Work agree­able and compleat.

Dor.

You still observe a regular method.

M. C.

I would not here prescribe any set unalterable Precepts; because the Whore stands obliged to alter in many particulars, and change her method as may make the deepest impression in the capricious head of that Man she is about to perswade. It will be at all times ne­cessary to gratifie her Lover in the posi­tion of her Members, to place them in that part of the period, which may create most pleasure in his particular fan­cy. Let her industriously avoid all harsh­ness or ruggedness, especially in those parts that are more exposed to the Lo­vers touch. A morbid smooth skin is one of Venus's chief attributes, and one of the Whores most forcible arguments. As her Bed must be clean, sweet and soft, so ought every part of her Body, [Page 109] to make it a scene suitable to the delica­cy of amorous joys, let her be curious in her Perfumes, Essences, and sweet Waters, to procure the satisfaction of the smelling sense; which will much advance her Lovers joys, and make her appear a compleat Sphere of delight and pleasure. My Rhetorick must not be deficient in shewing the several slights, that may be fitly adapted, to captivate every Sense of a Mans Body, and each faculty of his reasonable Soul. She must be nicely clean in every action, and part of her life: not omitting to ad­vance as much as possible, the natural whiteness of her Skin with the assistance of artificial means. An exquisite night-Dress for the Head is a thing not to be neglected by any Whore, that would be absolute in all her numbers, and one of those Lessons you are to learn among other things at your entring under the tuition of another Mistress, as I have said, you must for some Months. And yet if the Ladies Hair be short (as in­deed it ought) and her constitution will bear it, she may well in my opinion, at warm seasons of the year, omit co­vering her Hair with any attire; which [Page 110] of themselves afford the Eyes, and Touch a pleasing diversion: and yet in that negligence there is a decorum to be obser­ved, to render such a fantastical Undress more agreeable. All her Linnen whe­ther about her Bed, her Person, or be­longing otherwise to her Lodgings, must be exquisitely neat and pure, as well as rich and costly. And when this cannot be had, the former must not be want­ing.

Dor.

I approve mightily of neatness in a Whore, as well as a luxurious mag­nificence, because in these you make her agree with a Lady of quality and re­putation.

M. C.

Assure your self, Dorothea, that nothing advances a Whores credit and reputation more than these external ap­pearances of pomp and grandeur: as a stately and majestick deportment in her Looks, Gestures, Words and Actions, does forcibly extort respect and venera­tion; so costly Cloaths, rich Furniture, do singularly advance her profit and ad­vantage. The price of her vendibles does notably increase when they are dis­pensed in a splendid and magnificent Shop: and it is in this, as in other [Page 111] Trades, they that are richest, are ever thought to be furnished with the best Commodities, have most Customers, and sell their Ware at the dearest rates.

Dor.

You gave me already a tast of this Doctrine.

M. C.

Pray thee, Girl, do not put me off the Hinges. Dost know how Seneca excuses his repetition of the same Pre­cepts?

Dor.

No.

M. C.

Because people, are again, and again guilty of those Vices, which he was reforming: Therefore (says he) my Precepts ought to be inculcated over and over.

Dor.

It was morally spoke.

M. C.

A glittering shew dazles the Eye, and wins much, on even the rati­onal part of Man: he is ashamed to make any mean offers, when all things about him are full of pomp and gallan­try: he will think it reasonable and con­sonant to good Manners, to be liberal, when he meets with luxurious fare; and a breach of one of the points of ordina­ry civility, not to proportion his genero­sity to the state aed quality of his enter­tainment. When he is hungry, and in [Page 112] hast, a man of business will sometimes sculk into a nasty Cook's Shop for a Six Penny Cut, which he would blush to talk of in any of the first rate Houses of Entertainment. Many Traders can­not maintain this advantagious Post of Pomp and Magnificence: those then that are Frigates of a smaller size, and low­er Rate, must be stored with ready and easy excuses, to palliate the disorder of their weak Tackling. The pretence of having been lately snatched from under her Parents Wings, or deserted the im­braces of a cruel Husband, may serve sometimes to gain her a reputation, of being sound fresh Food, and sufficient likewise to excuse a weak and a slender beginning. When this sham will not fix (do not interrupt me by finding fault with the word) let her feign some un­lucky disaster, almost unavoidable, and which may be apt to move compassion: as that some barbarous Debauchée had lately seduced her out of her Virginity and Fortune, with the promise of Mar­riage, or Maintaining her as his Mistress, with a plentiful Annuity for life. Let her always exercise this cheat, as that it may appear, she is but a young beginner; [Page 113] for if the contrary be discovered, it cannot be supposed any youthful, or in­nocent miscarriage, but as in old Bank­rupts, the effect of fraud, villany and incorrigible lewdness. Whores are all knowing in that maxim of changing Names and Quarters, from one part of the Town to another; when they be­come crackt in their reputation. This is no ill project, to enable them to treat Lords and Grandees, with that flesh, which Porters would not have tasted at their former station.

Dor.

This is to me a new thing.

M. C.

The World, and so all men in it are governed by fancy and opinion: good and evil are therefore little under­stood as they are in themselves, but ra­ther as they come represented to Mens various and often vitiated palates. One will swallow a sliced salt Herring for the best Anchoves, he will pay his mo­ney as cheerfully, and take his rest as naturally, as if he had got a sincere Treat Another will carouze in plain Claret, and get drunk some hours the sooner, because he imagined every glass was of true Port.

Dor.
[Page 114]

He had better have left his fan­cy at home that Morning

M. C

And a third will pay for a Dutchess, and over-act himself in that Faith; yet all the while he imbraces (I cannot say a Cloud, because there is so much dirt) yet at best but her imaginary Grace, and in reality a common Strumpet.

Dor.

Poor Cully!

M. C.

Thus then it is plain, a Whores work is no more than to be well skilled in legerdemains, to know how to raise a Fog, and artificially to throw it before the Fops Eyes: then all her Cheats, Slights and Juggles pass for Honesty, Sin­cerity and Plain-dealing. Let her Fren­chifie her Commodities, or, (to avoid ribbaldry) her Merchandize, not with that Country Pox, but with hard names, and Je ne sçaiquois.

Dor.

You mean, What do ye Call'ums.

M. C.

And then she may be sure the Gulls will swallow the Bait, be it never so unpleasant or hard of digestion. When she finds a Customer cool in his desires, and no great extravagance in the carnal appetite, she must raise his pas­sion and warm his blood into a luxuriant [Page 115] heat by artificial incentives drawn in, all at the Window of a lascivious eye, and created by a gentle touch. Let nothing be disorderly or out of its proper place, for that a little adjusted with symmetry, is more effectual than a better stock not managed with the like dexterity. As to the body it self this is principally ne­cessary, and nearly to be minded, in as much as every small blemish there is li­able to nice observation, and very per­nicious to the Ladies interest. Let her be tight in her Cloaths, and when they cannot be of great price, let them have still something of a particular grace and beauty. Elegant colours not too gawdy, but yet adapted to the humour of love, must be chose when she cannot look big in the Majesty of pale Gold. Let her imitate the modes and dresses observed by the top Ladies, though she cannot always arrive at such variety of Cloaths, or such costly ornaments.

Dor.

These are useful Documents, and I presume may sute my circumstances, though spoke in the third person.

M. C.

This Rhetorick is principally intended for thee, and every thing in't either directly, or obliquely may be [Page 116] of use to thee. Didst thou never hear the Parson speak emphatically of the wicked Man, and the pious, in the third person; and yet the Assembly applies things home to their own Breasts, as if directed to each particular Individual?

Dor.

I am sensible of what you say.

M. C.

Let the Whore then take par­ticular care, not to betray her self, at the same time deceiving her Lover, by procuring a Gentile outside, without equal care had in the furniture of the inner Chambers. Such a one may serve to please a Passengers eye, but can ne­ver be fit for habitation or use. When the Gallant is excited to strong desires by the agreeableness of exterior orna­ments; it will be no small disappoint­ment to him, and disparagement to the Lady, to find under such fair promises a course or a dirty Smock. My pupil must not be guided by the French Man in this particular, who said, Who see wheder me have Shirt or no? This Gentleman used, peradventure, to go to Bed without a Candle, and lye alone; neither of which can pass for a suppositi­on in the Ladies case. Let her be industri­ous to remove all possible occasions of ill [Page 117] smells, the least tincture of these either from Breath, under the Arms, or else­where would be sufficient to pall the briskest courage, and nauseate the stron­est appetite.

Dor.

I must fancy, Mother, if a Gentleman were sharp set, he might lay aside these considerations.

M. C.

I am not willing to suppose any imperfections in those that expect to live by this Trade. For Sparks are some­times critical and captious at a Whore, as they are at a Dish of Meat that wants the new fashioned Sauce, though (as thou hast observed) they could dispense with some blemishes in the one, and the want of a modern Sauce in the other, if it were not in conformity to the mode; and they must seem men of po­lite and refined judgments, as well as of dainty and exquisite palates.

Dor.

The Fops.

M. C.

All the Rhetorick between Heaven and Earth, will never make the deformed handsome, or the crooked streight, some small peccadilloes are easi­ly forgiven, and very oft not perceivable, if art and industry be made use of. The same qualifications which the Jesuites re­quire [Page 118] in any youth they cull out for a Nursery of their Fraternity, are likewise necessary in all that ought to be admitted into the Whores Seminary. The young Brother must have a good Face (the reason of this the good Fathers best un­derstand) a ready Wit, and a confident and bold Genius. These are the three ingredients in point, (as Master Pleader speaks) necessary in a young Lady that would open her Shop to the best ad­vantage.

Dor.

And do you know the Jesuites reasons in desiring handsome pupils to breed up for their Society?

M. C.

I do, Child. But I cannot tell.

Dor.

As you please.

M. C.

By way of charity however, I desire those that have any part of their Body vitious or out of order, not to expose those blemishes by any perswasi­on, force or importunity. If the Breasts be not sound, unfit to abide the test of a Mans hand, and to enhaunce the de­lights of a ravishing touch: let the Breasts be kept close bound, covering that defect with the pretext of keeping the Stomach warm.

Dor.
[Page 119]

I have laught sometimes to see Women simper that had rotten Teeth, what a severe guard they kept over those putrified Bones, without ever daring to gratifie their humour with a fine laugh.

M. C.

In like manner a veil must be found to conceal every fault; though it should happen to be in those parts which ought to be armed with naked­ness, to raise the value and sweet of the en­joyment. A Whore must not forget that her Bed is the Altar, where Cupid's Sa­crifice is made compleat and perfect; that it is therefore a duty incumbent on her, to see nothing there but what is exquisitely pure and clean, which is a thing religiously observed even by the most barbarous Nations, in their ap­proach to a place they account so Sacred. A double portion of curiosity and neat­ness is requisite to understand, and how to use inoffensive washes. Let them be still such as may give the Face a car­nation-varnish, and yet leave the skin smooth and fine. Solid Paint has ve­ry ill effects, it brings roughness on the Face, and a necessity of continuing the application of it. Men had for the [Page 120] most part, rather excuse a little paleness or greenness, than see them supplied with a plastered face, or a dawbed Lip.

Dor.

How must I do to attain a critical knowledge in delicate washes?

M. C.

My book of Receipts at home will make thee abundantly knowing in that particular. Thou shalt there find exquisite washes for the Face, for the hands, and for to make thy skin fresh and gay. There thou shalt see the Rules of making a water of an admirable Talk, of mighty vertue and use. Ano­ther Receipt for preserving and impro­ving the Teeth. And a third for conver­ting a stinking breath into a smell much like that of Clove-gilliflowers: beside a multitude of other choice Receipts for preparing cosmeticks and blanches, which I need not insert here, because I intend you shall peruse the book it self: But Dorothea.

Dor.

Madam.

M. C.

Pray do you never make use of any thing to improve your Breath, for the Breath is like Oyl, when right with­out any smell; so any artificial aid does but create a suspicion, that it was once adulterated.

Dor.
[Page 121]

I shall remember this Precept.

M. C.

Neither be too solicitous of be­ing provided of Musk, Civet, and such like acute Odors.

Dor.

Why so?

M. C

Because they are good for those that are infected with evil smells. There­fore whilst thou art of thy self sweet and clean, milder perfumes will be more proper

Dor.

I will be mindful.

M C.

I am amazed at the folly, nay stupidity of many young Ladies, that de­bauch their Faces, and vitiate their com­plexions with all sorts of Paint, when nature has been kind, and as it were prohibited the use of this sophisticated stuff, by having there planted with her own hand a delicate mixture of Red and White

Dor

'Tis certainly in such a great madness 'Tis as bad as to be con­stantly tampering with Physick, when one is perfectly sound and well in health

M C

A seasonable blush is much more prevailing than any artificial sup­ply: it is a token of modest, and yet an amorous sign: it is one of my soveraign [Page 122] Recipe's to win a Mans Soul and Body, and command his Purse: It forces his Blood from the most secret recesses of his Heart, into those amorous parts that soon after pullulate (if it can be so said) into a dying transport In this act care must be taken, to avoid a trou­blesome improportion: neither leaving the gate of Love so wide as the Passen­ger may enter without a touch of either side; nor yet on the other vitious ex­tream, embarassing him too much with a forced and an artificial straitness. Art may serve sometimes to mortifie nature a little, but should not be permitted to confound her, by any piece of unnatu­ral extravagance. Industry will indeed be necessary in old Traders, to moderate the excess of that Port which swallow­ing up the Man of War at one morsel, does miserably shipwrack the Saylors expectation, and deprives him of the better part of his pleasure. It is sup­posed, a Lady of good practice may have each day many Clients knocking at the Closet door: by which means the Stairs will be wet and the Passage slippery, by the frequency of those that come with Fee in hand, to discharge [Page 123] themselves of their superfluities. It must therefore be her care to remedy this inconvenience, by keeping all clean, and dry, repeating her care after the de­parture of every Client. A drying Pes­sary will be proper on this occasion, for the preparation of which there is a par­ticular method in my Book. A mixture of Wine with some restringent Waters, and the curd of an Allum Posset, may be fitly used in an idle intervall to con­tract the lines of Longitude and Latitude into their original and proper bounds.

Dor.

I protest, Madam, I believe you know more than all the World beside.

M. C.

The most delightful and plea­sant sailing is in a strait and narrow Sea, between two pleasant Shores.

Dor.

Because there is no apprehension of danger, not fear of shipwrack.

M. C.

A Man would not grudge to pay any impost at his entrance into the mouth of such diverting streights, which he would not do in a boundless and wide Ocean, without the Rhetorick of some broad-sides. It must be the Whores indis­pensable duty, to keep a continual and strict watch, that no pert man of War, with top and Top-gallon of flattery and [Page 124] dissimulation, driven by the strong winds of impudence and importunity, should dare to pass that way, without first dis­bursing the usual tax. A connivence in this particular would discredit her Go­vernment, bring her Policy in question, and encourage every pitiful Privateer to steer the same course, in hopes of the like success.

Dor.

It is fit a Man should first sow his coin, before he be suffered to reap the fruit of Pleasure. And methinks he should be laughed at if he expected any other: what would his Habberdasher say to him, if he came to intreat the gift of a Beaver; or his Draper, if he askt half a dozen yards of Cloth without money?

M. C.

My dear Novice, let me kiss thee for that wise Aphorism.

Dor.

Go on, pray Mother.

M. C.

I would have my Disciple keep a good correspondence with some skil­ful Physician, or some expert Venereal Doctor. These are as necessary in the war of Venus, as in that of Mars; be­cause the casualties are as different that may befal a Female Combatant, as any the most adventurous and daring Soul­dier. [Page 125] The Lady is on duty every day, and being sometimes forced in her single person to face whole Armies of fighting Men, and Volleys of Shot, it is odds but some of them hit, and disable her from further service; if the Gallenist or Emperick were not at command, to assist with his healing hand. She must liberally dispense her talents to the Doctor gratis, as he his eleemosynary Pills. When any disaster happens a friendly. Physician will take care with hasty Medicines to remove the virulence that she may be fit to go on in the exercise of her Function, and then at better leisure compleat the cure: though I confess it were for her ad­vantage as to her Body, to attend a per­fect recovery before she ventured into the Field.

Dor.

That is certainly true; or at least I am very apt to believe it.

M. C.

I would have her cautious not to entertain any commerce with her ge­nerous and constant Customers, till she can pass her Word for the soundness of her Ware: otherwise she will lose her reputation, and endanger breaking. But as to those that come accidentally [Page 126] en passant, for a recruit, to her maga­zine, this caution need take no place in her consideration. When she intends to rid her self of a decayed Minion, the time she is not well may be a fit oppor­tunity to give him his Writ of Ease.

Dor.

Ha, ha, ha, to one she intends to dismiss with a Pox?

M. C.

It may hold as well here, as when a decrepit Judge gets his Quietus (as they call it) only to give the Gout and Stone larger opportunities of tor­menting that superannuated piece of mortality, without any diverting im­pediment.

THus the good old Lady terminated her first days Discourse, to the no small satisfaction of her fair Pupil: who was much overjoyed at the hopes she entertained of such a blessed altera­tion, in her affairs, as, she doubted not would be the effect of her School-mi­stresses providential care. They got up from their Seats by mutual consent: Mother Creswel, to yawn and stretch her aged Limbs; being tired with long sit­ting, and no less wearied with bearing such a large share in that days Dialogue. [Page 127] The like did young Dorothea, as having either the like necessities, or that she thought it civil to sympathize thus far with her kind Mistress. After they had entertained one another some small time in an indifferent conversation, Dorothea remembred by her Stomach, that Din­ner time was already past, and therefore thought it expedient to lay the Cloth, whilst the Maid made ready such Pro­visions as the Cavalier's House could af­ford. It was for the most part so slen­der, that the Master of the Family did seldom dine at his own Table, but was willing to invite himself abroad among his old Friends, who had not been so unfortunate, as to spend their Patrimo­nies, in hopes of any incertain futurity. This gave the Virgin much solitary lei­sure, and at this time a fit opportunity of hearing the Bawds Lectures, without the danger of any disturbance. Among other passages at Dinner, she asked her Daughter particularly of the state her Fathers affairs were at present in; How he stood affected as to his Morals, his temper and disposition, and many such minute circumstances; that from the knowledge of those she might infer her [Page 128] own conclusions, and the most plausible means, her Scholar might make use of to relinquish her Parents House, and put her self under the tuition of a new chose Mother. Dorothea told her to that, She was sure his humour was such, as that he would never consent to part with her on any indirect terms: but be­ing now on the borders of old age, and weary of the Town, he had resolved very soon to retire, and end his days in the solitude of a Country life. This was pleasing news to the decripit Hag, who else might have been disappointed in her hopes of propagating her Faith, by adding this Maid to the number of her Converts. It was then resolved, Dorothea should remain in Town after her Fathers departure, under the pretence of getting into some creditable Service: to which they concluded, the Gentleman would readily agree, as not being himself ca­pacitated to make any better Provision for his Daughter. When Dinner was ended, and all fit measures taken in or­der to the adjusting that affair, and re­moving any stops that might fall in the way: The Lady Abbess took leave of her young Probationer, to dispatch [Page 129] some affairs of her own elsewhere; having promised to return next Morn­ing about the same Hour she had done that day.

The Second Dialogue.

M. C.

HOW does my Jewel do to Day, and how has she di­gested the Documents she lately recei­ved?

Dor.

I find them very agreeable, good Mother: However you know nothing can master a young Stomach, and there­fore am very joyful to see you returned, in hopes you will give me a second tast of the same fare, to compleat at once the knowledge and satisfaction of my mind. But before you enter upon that business; pray have patience till I tell you a strange Dream I dreamt last Night.

M. C.
[Page 130]

Let's hear it.

Dor.

Will you then give me the inter­pretation of it?

M. C.

I will.

Dor.

This Morning a little before day, methought I was in a large, high and spatious Room, which as I fansied was furnished with the richest and most lively Tapestry that I had before ever seen. Over this costly Arras there hung all about the Room, rich gilt Swords, of all fashions, French, German, Polonian Scymeters, and Spanish Toledoes, fine Beavers, a great number of Point Cra­vats of all sorts, Venetian, those which come from Paris, and the other we have from Lorain; some furred Gowns, such as Aldermen wear; two or three Ser­jeants Coifs, a number of Lawyers. Gowns, some Velvet Coats and Ebony Canes, a multitude of imbroidered ones, some Scarlet, others of Crimson-Vel­vet, with many more braveries that have slipt my memory. At one side of the Room there stood a sumptuous Bed, the Curtains whereof were all Cloth of Gold; near the Bed there was a magnificent Chair of State, such as I once saw at White-Hall, whereon the [Page 131] King sits when a Foreign Embassador is admitted to his first Audience. In this Throne, I thought, I saw my self seated, with a regal Scepter in my Hand, and a Crown of Gold on my Head: round about me there stood almost as great a variety of Beasts as were said to be con­tained in Noah's Ark, as Asses, Sheep, Buffles, Foxes, Peacocks, Woodcocks, several sorts of Owls, Dotterels and Gulls; in tormenting all these I fansied my self mightily pleased; I took singu­lar delight in beating some and pricking others, in pulling the Peacocks Trains, and the Feathers from the other Birds: all which methought they suffer'd with mar­vellous patience; without any sign of an­ger; nay the Beasts lickt me from top to Toe, shewing marks of content in be­ing thus cruelly treated. After I was weary of this exercise, I thought all the Brutes disappeared, and that there only remained with me a little Fox, that was grown grey with age, that had by some accident lost his Tail almost to the Rump, to which was fastened a Bag of Money so large that the Animal was scarce able to draw it after him; but yet with much ado, I perceived him scram­ble [Page 132] into the stately Bed; where I had not imagined him setled any time, be­fore there returned a stately young Bu­ffle fat and comely (by the by, Mother, I never saw this Creature, but by de­sciption suppose it is like one of our Bulls) who forcibly took me on his Horns, from whence I could by no means free my self, till the Bull gave me leave to alight in the midst of a mighty Forest, and there methought I was for­ced to draw in a Yoak with this wild Beast: the fright of which awakened me in great confusion. And now I desire to hear you declare the meaning of this extravagant Vision.

M. C.

This Dream, Daughter, I can unriddle better than ever Lilly could, or his disciple Gadbury. The Asses thou kickt and abused, are the wretches, that will on the score of Love, cheerfully submit to those rigid Laws, and that se­vere yoak thou shalt hang about their necks. Robbing the Peacocks of their beautiful Tails, denotes the dexterity thou wilt use in rifling young rich Heirs of their money; the Foxes signifie cer­tain old crafty Lovers, whom thou shalt entrap with some baits, I will pre­scribe [Page 133] thee anon; The Owls, Gulls, and such others are a rascally rout that will be fleeced and plucked with more ease than thou canst speak or walk.

Dor.

What becomes of all the rest?

M. C.

Soft and fair, Daughter. The magnificent Room shews thy future grandeur, and the pomp thou shalt live in. The gallantries stuck round, are those trophies thou shalt win, and the tribute that will be paid thee by all sorts of Men; and the royal Chair imports the honour the world will pay thee.

Dor.

You have forgot the old Fox, and the young fat Buffle, that carried me away.

M. C.

Behold now that my Prophe­cies are already half fulfilled: The old Fox is an old Gentleman, who will for some time have the honour to be thy Keeper; his wanting a Tail, and having instead thereof a bag of money, shews thy old Lovers impotence, that he shall have lost the faculty of dispensing vene­real pleasure, but instead of this will impart largely of that Treasure where­with he seemed overcharged. The last part is, after thou hast lived sometime at large, and gained extraordinary ho­nour and reputation, as thy Dream pro­gnosticates, [Page 134] and then come for a short time under the tuition of an old Guar­dian, that finally, a young fat Buffler. that is, a young rich Country Gentleman, carried thee on his Horns, that is, in his Coach, to a Forrest, to his Mansion House: now what dost think drawing in one yoak implies?

Dor.

I cannot guess.

M. C.

That thou mayest be linked to this Squire in the yoak of Matrimony, Child.

Dor.

You have indeed given me in­tire satisfaction: pray Heaven, Mother, you prove a true Prophetess.

M. C.

Never doubt it, dear Child, There are, I am sure blessings for thee in store; if with an industrious and vigi­lant hand, thou wilt turn Fortunes wheel to thy own humour.

Dor.

I thought this Wheel had been uncontroulable, not to be stopt in its motion.

M. C.

No such thing. Good For­tune follows well laid counsels, as na­turally as the shadow does the Body. Therefore, Dorothea, think not to be­come great and fortunate without a la­borious industry: neither be in any wise [Page 135] diffident of success, if proper means be used to arrive at the designed end.

Dor.

I will be guided by you in all things. So I desire the continuance of your favours, in giving me your further instructions, and proceeding in your own method, which, Madam, if I well re­member, engages you to give me light into the particular humours of some Men, you thought fit to mention in ye­sterdays discourse.

M. C.

A Whore indeed ought to have skill in Physiognomies. Reading Men is the great work of her life. As it is among Gentlemen, a main principle of policy and prudence, and even more ne­cessary than understanding Books; so in a Whore it is not ornamental only, but an essential part of her breeding and qua­lification.

Dor.

Books are, in my opinion, the only sure foundation; but the beautiful superstructure must be ever raised by conversation, travelling, experience, all which is comprehended in reading Men.

M. C.

Thou hast spoke discreetly, Girl. But yet I fancy it is a little un­natural for fifteen to talk at thy wise rate.

Dor.
[Page 136]

I ought to have some degree of wit, to make me comprehend your sage instructions, which I hope will in the end make me wise indeed.

M. C.

What sort of Lovers will you see first delineated?

Dor.

You have already touched on several degrees of Youth, pray now a little of old Age, which in point of de­cency ought to have had the precedence, and it seems by your Prophecy and my Dream, that I am to be acquainted with one of those hoary Heads.

M. C.

From whom thou mayest ex­pect dainty Fare, rich Presents and cost­ly Cloaths, and indeed every thing La­dy-like, if thou canst discreetly comply with his peevish humour, and dispense with the want of due benevolence.

Dor.

Would not that be a hard task?

M. C.

I have already setled the limits in that case I have told you on what terms I would allow a Lady the liberty of cuckolding her Keeper.

Dor.

But have these disabled old Soul­diers no power to handle their Arms?

M. C.

As much, Child, as I have to manage a hard Crust with those few Stumps I have yet remaining. Hast [Page 137] thou never observed, when a Candle burns down into the Socket, and when the flame begins to want nutriment, how it is sometimes up, and sometimes down, one while it seems quite extinct, and then of a sudden it makes a faint re­surrection?

Dor.

That I have often remarked, for it always happens, if the Candle is suf­fered to burn down, and a Save-all wan­ting.

M C

Then, Child thou hast seen the natural emblem of an old Mans vigour.

Dor

Ha, ha, ha. I fancy you have given me a lively representation on't. But what use has such a decripit Wretch for a Mistress?

M C

The same a Miser has for his Bags, he loves to be contemplating the beauty of his bright Treasure, but has it not in his power to turn one Penny to its natural use Thus the old Squire pays his respects to his Virgin, in teazing her, and tumbling her over and over, and fumbling her from Head to Toe

Dor

Well Mother, nothing but a Lordly generosity could make a Woman endure the impertinence of these Im­potents.

M C
[Page 138]

Hanging about her Neck for hours together, then hiding themselves under her Petticoats, to raise their de­cayed appetites by the warm sauce to be found under those Robes.

Dor.

What if all that is not of heat enough to inflame their chill Blood?

M C.

Then they fall to dallying and sucking the Pappies, as if they expected to extract thence some sovereign Cordi­al, that would introduce a new Spring into their frozen Hearts, and snowy Heads.

Dor.

It is natural for an old Fellow to be fond of the Pappies, if the Pro­verb be grounded on truth, which makes him a Child the second time

M C

I must still laugh, when I think of the excuse he has, when all his en­deavours have proved ineffectual in the matter of erection.

Dor.

What is the excuse?

M. C.

He will lay all the fault on the back of too much Love, as if the ex­tremity of his passion had hindred the usual effects of an ordinary flame.

Dor.

That is well indeed; ha, ha, that a flame should be extinguished by throw­ing on more Fuel! I would as soon be­lieve [Page 139] a Man could be so hungry he could not eat, or so dry that he could not drink.

M. C.

Thou must exercise all thy Chri­stian Vertues, especially thy patience and moderation, to abstain from laugh­ing, when the old Romancer enters on the Stage of his own exploits. He ever talks at the rate of twenty mile an hour, and if thou wilt credit himself, Orlando the Wight, was a dastardly Coward, if put in the Scale with this venerable He­ro. It is odds if sometimes in a rapture a-Bed, he do not get astride of thy Back, to demonstrate how he managed his Horse at Naseby fight. And because he must be deficient in the more sub­stantial performances, it is necessary, he thinks, to talk big.

Dor.

I should instantly dismount him, if his Worship tryed any such tricks on me.

M. C.

It will be no easy matter to forbear smiling, when thou shalt see thy old Guardian dress and undress. And the pleasant figure he will make in his Jerkin and night-Cap. Thou must be at the pains to assist at the swadling him up, and the uncasing him of his multiplyed Flannel.

Dor.
[Page 140]

Will nothing less defend him from the cold?

M. C.

Because he is not able in ma­ny particulars to infringe the Law, he will in those points seem a religious ob­server of it. And his veneration for Acts of Parliament, makes him think it a duty incumbent, to bury his own Carcass in Woollen: and to take off the more of this manufacture, he uses as much about his own Corpse, as would make him three Sheets, such as he is to lye in, in the Grave, when he is become one degree more mortified.

Dor.

I could pity this spectacle of mor­tality.

M. C.

Thou wilt find matter of pity and contempt both, to find such strong insatiable desires, lodged in such a shri­veled Body. When one hand must be imployed in administring Lozenges, or Penets to stop the Catarrh that crucifies him every moment; thou wilt be a lit­tle surprized to see the other busy, fum­bling at the amorous parts of thy Body, to provoke the old Lecher to a higher pitch of Lust.

Dor.

You make me fancy, I see the old Fobus before my Eyes.

M. C.
[Page 141]

It is impossible to express the hugging, squeezing, antick gestures, and ridiculous expressions the old dotard will use on this occasion, just such as Nurses prate to their fondlings, who under­stand not what they say.

Dor.

And all this to no purpose.

M. C.

Hast thou ever had the oppor­tunity to view the efforts of a sick per­son, that would spit into the floor without defiling his Bed? how many essays the infirm wretch will make to leave his giddy head, which is as oft forced back on the weary Pillow? and after he has in vain tryed to ease himself by his own strength; he is glad at length to make use of his Nurses helping hand.

Dor.

What then?

M. C.

So, Child, this decrepit Minion, this sickly lover, will never of himself be able to elevate his drooping courage, unless thou raise and encourage him with thy warmer hand. If thou wouldst have him spit in the proper place, thou must chase him like a mortified piece of flesh, scratch him in every wrinkle, tickle him in the Flank, and under the Arms. A wanton Sonnet in a soft low Air will not be amiss to moisten this in­sipid [Page 142] Animal. Ask him, who is his own pretty Whore, his Flesh and Blood, his Daughter, his Dalilah, his Honey, his Sugar? and a thousand such wretched fooleries.

Dor.

A Woman had need be well payed for all her trouble, in nursing one of these superannuated Babies.

M. C.

That is never wanting, Child. But then after all thy industry, when thou hast animated the insensible log, and inspired it with a faint venereal motion, the terrible tryal of thy patience is then at hand.

Dor.

As how?

M. C.

Why, Daughter, I must tell you, when the crazy Lover is embolden­ed to pay a debt, he has for many Months owed Cupid; he will be so tedi­ous and nauseous in the performance, he will go near to tire any Woman of or­dinary Flesh and Blood.

Dor.

What should one do in that case, it is but throwing him out of the Saddle.

M. C.

That would be an irreparable injury, never to be forgiven by him. He would sooner mortgage his Soul, nay one of his Bags, than suffer any interrup­tion in his amorous effort.

Dor.
[Page 143]

I find it will be no easy matter to humour the old Fox, no consideration but the bag at his tail could prevail with me.

M. C.

He will sweat more than a Dray Horse, or one in the Bagnio, tho' one would think it impossible, a Chy­mist could extract half so much moisture out of such a miserable Creatures dry Bones. He will beg thee a thousand times, and more earnestly than ever he did the remission of his sins; to wait till his retentive nature, after long soli­citation, can be forced to squeeze out a loving tear.

Dor.

This then must needs be a fit time to chouse the old Cully out of a Summ.

M C

Thou hast well said, for there is nothing so dear to him, he would not part with to be humoured in this critical juncture. If thou canst get the way of exciting him to the youthful game, the exquisite arts of hastening the pleasure, and bringing off the disabled Warrior from the assault with honour and repu­tation; there is nothing between Hea­ven and Earth, he would not procure for thy satisfaction: his Body, his Soul, his [Page 144] Money, will all truckle to thee, thou mayest command him more absolutely than the Grand Signior does the meanest of his Vassals; and therefore interest requires indispensably abundance of dis­cretion at this time to purchase the desi­red reward of thy perseverance.

Dor.

This is a great encouragement: but the Precept seems extream difficult and rigid; for I have heard experienced Women say, that nothing in nature is so fulsome, as to be bound to endure the repeated stroaks of a drowzy embrace, after the Woman has acted her own part. It is like sitting at Table with a full Bel­ly, to endure the steam of a fresh course, and see a new sett of Guests fall to, Tooth and Nail.

M. C.

For that, Daughter, I must tell you: a Whore is a Whore, but a Whore is not a Woman; as being ob­liged to relinquish all those frailties that render the Sex weak and contemptible. A Whore ought not to think of her own pleasure, but how to gratifie her Bedfel­low in his sensitive desires: She must mind her interest not her sport; the Lo­vers sport, the ruine of his interest and the emptying his Purse. The unthink­ing [Page 145] part of Women place all their worldly happiness in the centre of ve­nereal Pastimes, and they are all Maho­metans so far as to wish a continuance of them in the world to come; though all these things are enjoyed by Wolves, Bears, Cats, Dogs and Rats, in an equal, if not a larger measure than what we can pretend to.

Dor.

That is even a sad consideration; but why in a larger measure?

M. C.

Because our reason checks us in the midst of the pleasure, imposingly telling us, It is all but Vanity; therefore you must think it reasonable to endure the fatigue of an old sordid imbrace, for your own benefit, without foolishly re­garding the present titillation, or the pain of continuing after that is over.

Dor.

I will endeavour to obey you.

M. C.

The contrary practice of many impolitick Whores, does manifest the truth of this, who following their fan­cies more than their judgments; and lo­ving to please their Eyes and not their Reason in the choice of their Friends, do become in a short time poor, beggar­ly and miserable, rejected of the world, and most of all by those Men to whom [Page 146] they afforded most plentifully of their free love.

Dor.

This is a political Maxim.

M. C.

Thou hast now engaged thy self, as it were to run a Race, by the loss of which thou must expect to forfeit thy ease, pleasure, liberty, and in a word all earthly satisfaction. Thou knowest it is not always the Horse that gets the start, who wins the Plate, but he that perseveres in his swiftness, and main­tains his first vigour in the last heat. Thy case is much the same, thou art pre­paring thy self to appear in the Field of Love, whilst I act the part of a faith­ful Groom, to feed thee with Precepts suitable to the exercise thou hast under­taken. Instead of airings Morning and Evening, I injoyn thee a daily repetition of this Rhetorick: which will, if old Creswel understands the World, enable thee to carry away the golden prize of Love.

Dor.

You frighten me with this simi­litude; the danger of miscarriage is so great: it is an eaven lay I come off a lo­ser, because you know it is impossible both should win.

M C.
[Page 147]

This is only to heighten thy care and vigilance, as Parsons think fit sometimes to scare their Flock into Hea­ven, and gall them with dreadful cor­rosives.

Dor.

That is only in the beginning of their Sermons, but they conclude gene­rally with Balsome and Lenitives.

M. C.

Those I have already applyed to thee. I have inspected the Table and Lines of thy Hand, and by my Chiro­mantick skill have already told thee that blessed influence thou wast born under.

Dor.

What skill is that?

M. C.

Palmistry, Child. And tho' thou knowest thy self to be one of the little flock, within the pale of ease and plenty, yet, I hope that consideration will not slacken the reins of thy indu­stry, and conformity to the Laws of thy profession, as it does in our Modern Babes of Grace.

Dor.

What Babes do you mean?

M. C.

Though it is not seasonable to answer thy Question, yet I had rather be irregular, than not satisfie thee. They are, Child, a people that call themselves the Elect, the Children of Adoption, who believe they cannot fall; or if they [Page 148] slip at any time, it shall not be, imputed to them. What the World calls rebel­lion, is in them a taking the Sword out of the hands of the Mighty; and that Plun­der, Rapine, and Sequestration are in the Saints only, civil ways of Borrowing as the Israelites did from the Egyptians.

Dor.

I do not well apprehend you; and I suppose it is not material whether I do or no. Pray return to the old Gen­tleman, he is grown cold by this time for want of moving.

M. C.

I will only advise thee to be ex­tream reserved before the old Flogger: for that he is the most jealous Animal of the whole creation.

Dor.

As being conscious to himself of most imperfections.

M. C.

If thou laughest, he thinks it is at him; if a sudden cough overtake thee, he will swear it is in derision of his hoarse Throat: if thou happenest at any time to stagger or stumble, streight­way he fancies it is in imitation of his gate: if to hinder the effects of a trou­blesome Corn, thou wearest thy Shoe open a little at top, it must be in con­tempt of his Gout: thou must scarce touch his Spectacles, for fear of being [Page 149] thought to reflect on his Eyes: thou must keep thy Head and Hands steddy, lest doing otherwise should be interpreted a flouting of his paralytick Members: nay thou scarce mayest take the liberty to rub thy Teeth with a Napkin, as is customary after meals.

Dor.

Why so?

M. C.

Because it is great odds but his are loose, and so he will think it an im­posing on him to use that freedom with thy Teeth which he dares not with his.

Dor.

How is it possible to regulate ones self in all these petty circumstances?

M. C.

Custom, Child, and the sweets of his wealth will make them easy: Besides, when once thou hast gain­ed upon him, and made him entertain a good opinion of thy discretion, he is for ever after easily kept blind, if thou dost not carelesly suffer him to stumble on something that may force him to open the remainder of his Eyes.

Dor.

It is sufficient I have Father grey-Beard in my Eye, and shall know how to handle him without a Constable.

M. C.

If you remember; one of my first Lessons was to avoid empty speculations, [Page 150] which in our Idiom signifies no more than not to love any Man for the titles of Genteel, Handsome or Witty, unless these qualifications be attended with the solidity of a weighty Purse.

Dor.

It is reasonable, but I presume a little difficult exactly to follow that rule.

M. C.

I do assure you, if my Mothers Clay were animated a second time, she could not oblige you with a Precept of more use or comprehension, and she was one of the wisest of the Daughters of Men, nay, or Sons, saving Solomon his right. Therefore Dorothea you must take more than ordinary care in this point, on the critical observation of which does much depend a Whores Fortune and ad­vancement. On this score, I am a­gainst your reading Romances, where constancy in love is cryed up as a vertue, and dying Lovers make up a great part in the Pageantry. The Modern Comedies are a Lecture much more adapted to the interest of my Scholar, for there you will find fraud and dissimulation called discretion and prudence: cuckold­ing Husbands, cheating Lovers, pru­dently styled Address and Wit. And for obscenity I recommend those pieces to [Page 151] you, where you may be supplyed with a better stock than I can in Conscience expose in this my Rhetorick.

Dor.

You have proceeded hitherto in modest terms, however I understood your meaning. But seeing it concerns me so highly not to be in love with any person; I desire you will prescribe me some Antidotes in case I should unawares suck in any of that fatal poyson: for I must confess to you, Mother, I can hard­ly trust my self in this case; I fear a good Dress, and a good Face, might yet have on me dangerous effects.

M. C.

Alas! that is one of the infir­mities, and one of the curses which the first Womans sin entailed on the whole Sex. I could make thee a longer Preach­ment against Love, than Baxter did on a Thursday Morning; I could come to the Nineteenthly, if I did not believe thy own discretion informs thee, the least spark of this dangerous fire would infallibly ruin all thy hopes of good for­tune, and thy prospect of any future fe­licity: let my costly experience teach thee Wisdom: a small sincere flame was my bane, and in the whole course of my years, I never knew any one Whore [Page 152] escape a miserable and a beggarly end, who was so weak as to entertain any spark of a true love. Do but consider the impertinent causes of this silly ef­fect: that the most insignificant circum­stances about Men, as their Garb, and such like are the strong Philters that cap­tivate the weaker Sex. It is certainly true, that Women are caught for the most part in such weak Nets as these, that the most shallow, the most insipid, nay, the uglyest of Men have been the most successful in gaining an ascendant over the hearts of poor Women. You must know, Dorothea, that no Man is valuable on any endowment that pro­ceeds not from the Soul; what ever ows its original to the Body, is brutal, be­cause Beasts enjoy it in an equal measure with Men: nay, in every particular they are out-done by some meer Animal, The Ox is stronger, the Horse is swifter and the Goat more salacious, till humane nature is debauched by art. I never knew a Lady enamoured of any Gen­tleman, for being an expert or a brave Souldier, loyal, learned, or wise, where­as these are the only qualifications that create a real distinction between Men, [Page 153] and make one Man more worthy than another. Seeing then the noble, the ami­able part of Men is not able to kindle a flame in a Womans Breast, let her ne­ver be enslaved by any thing that is of a far more vile, base and degenerate na­ture: if she be secure of receiving no wounds from the valiant, and the wise, she will sure be able to guard her self from the darts of dastardly Fools. It must needs be a sufficient preservative against loves infection, to consider that the spruce incentives, the Sparks who are most dangerous, have never any thing in them, but what their Dancing or Singing Masters were pleased to retail unto them.

Dor.

This might pass for orthodox out of the Pulpit.

M. C.

You desired a Prescription in this case, and therefore I will procure you a Root, a little of which grated, as you would Nutmeg, upon a glass of any liquor in the Morning fasting, will infallibly preserve you from all amorous impressions.

Dor.

What is the name of that rare Root.

M. C.
[Page 154]

Misanthropia is the name our Drugsters give it.

Dor.

I never heard such a name before. Misanthropia, is it so you call it?

M. C.

Misanthropia, my Heart, is the term of art, that properly signifies Man­hating; so the Root had its name, as most others have, from the vertues and effects of it, which are to create in Wo­men, a hatred of Men, or at least to keep them in a cool state of indif­ference.

Dor.

Doth it grow in England?

M. C.

No Child, nor in any part of Europe, or the World indeed; save in one Region of Asia, called the Amazon Country.

Dor.

I remember to have read some­where (in Cassandra, I think) of these Viragoes; how they inhabited, and commanded their own Country without the help of Men, and that they banished every Male into its Fathers habitation, as soon as ever it saw the light: but I confess, I was till now wholly ignorant how they came to assume this courage, and hatred of Men; which I suppose now proceeded from the use of this Root, that grew among them.

M. C.
[Page 155]

That is indeed the very indi­vidual reason.

Dor.

But I likewise remember, that a Queen of that Country fell in love with Alexander, in his conquest of Asia: it seems her Majesty forgot to use this re­medy; or at least the Conquerors charms were stronger than the vertue of Misanthropia.

M. C.

I know not where you got that fabulous Story, it must be out of some Romance; for my Author who is re­puted an authentick and faithful Histori­an, tells me, That Thalestris (for that as I remember was the Queens name) came to Alexander as a Soveraign Princess, not as a whining Lover, with a splendid band of her own Subjects, not like an hum­ble suppliant, commanding rather than intreating that great King, to stop in the carreer of his Victories, till he left something in her Womb; which if of the genuine Sex, might prove an Hei­ress to the Kingdom, and succeed in her Mothers Throne. It is plain there was not a glimpse of love in the case, or any thing like a fond passion; for we find the first instant, this Princess found in her self the desired effect of that noble [Page 156] conjunction, she bad the Conquerour adieu, and gave him leave to proceed in the pursuit of his victories.

Dor.

You have corrected my judg­ment in this particular.

M. C.

You see it is my opinion, a Whore ought rather to hate the whole race, than love one single Man: and in­deed it is requisite she should have a se­cret antipathy against Men, that she may fleece them with less regret, and never be moved to lend one Penny, to any of her broken Friends. There will then be no fear of poysonous Arrows, or inve­nomed Darts, when she once gets the man-hating quality, because Philoso­phers deliver it as an Article of their Creed, that two contraries cannot by any means cohabit under one roof, no more than two Whores, at least not without mighty feuds and restless ani­mosities.

Dor.

What sort of Men do most com­monly fix these Darts and Arrows in the Hearts of Women?

M. C.

The Men of mode and fashion, those that are used to set the old Bawd a work; who can at other times make use of the no less industrious Masculine [Page 157] Pimp, of Billets deux, that is Child, love Letters, of Promises, Flattery, Oaths, Execrations, a good Face, and a deceit­ful Heart; if any or all these can prevail with thee, I do assure thee, thou art an undone Girl

Dor.

I shall serve them in their own coyn. But who are those you call the men of mode?

M. C.

The Men of the times.

Dor.

All Men are Men of the times, pray explain your self.

M C.

I mean those Gentlemen that have served one apprentiship, or possibly two, to the Trade of Foppery

Dor.

Now I understand you: it seems then a Man of Dress, a Man of Garb, a Man of Wit, a Man of Mode, a Man of the Times, and a Fop are much one and the same thing.

M. C.

It is so And if this Man thou speakest of, had a name for every hu­mour he has, he would have more names, by half, then Briareus had Hands.

Dor.

How many was that?

M. C.

Ninety nine.

Dor.

It is a pity the Hundred were not made up. But inform me how I [Page 158] must carry my self in company of these critical Gentlemen.

M. C.

When any of these Criticks (as you call'um) comes to make thee a visit: receive him in mood and figure, caress him, and entertain him with the pertest, and the quaintest chat, thou canst devise. Flattery and ceremony are the comfits that tast sweetest in his mouth.

Dor.

He shall have his Belly full of them.

M. C.

You must study a particular way of commending every thing he wears, the sitting of his shoes, the mixture of his Stockings, the shape of his Leg, his Tread, the turn up of his Breeches.

Dor.

Methinks, Mother, you should begin at the other end.

M. C.

The make of his Cloaths; the adjusting of his Sword knot and Cravat string, the briskness of his raillery, the fringe of his Gloves, his Lace, the smoothness of his Face, the redness of his Lip, his jantée way of picking his Teeth, the foretop of his Peruque, and if you please, the cock or the sitting of his Hat.

Dor.
[Page 159]

Will not he think I am abusing him?

M. C.

He would, if thou didst treat him after any other manner. It is in this method they claw one another, and sure you will allow, it may come as na­turally out of a Whores mouth?

Dor.

Are they generous after a Wo­man has taken all this pain to please them?

M. C.

That is as the maggot bites; they will sometimes throw away their Guineas as profusely into the Whores, as into the Groom or Porters Box; then at another minute, they must bilk the Lady, as much for the humour of doing so, as the consideration of saving their money.

Dor.

I find it is ticklish trading in this brittle Ware.

M. C.

Pretend to have heard much of the Sparks Poetry, that you have seen some ingenious lines of his composing.

Dor.

What if he was never given that way?

M. C.

It is odds but he is a dabler in rhime; however he will procure a Sonnet from one of his Poetical friends, which he will shew thee, as [Page 160] the fruit of his own Brain.

Dor.

What should I do with it? a Bu­shel of them would not yield me a Groat.

M. C.

You must make much of the Song, for the love you bear his Purse: as Men sometimes kiss the Bantling for the Nurses sake. Receive the precious gift with the same grace you would a Necklace of Pearl, read it over and over, praise it, kiss it, and then place it in your Bosome.

Dor.

I will gratifie him in this par­ticular.

M. C.

If you well remember, Daugh­ter, I told you at the beginning, that Memory was a part of Rhetorick, and necessary in a Whore, to learn and re­tain those essential documents that are to be observed in her own Trade. In as much as all her discourses in conformity to her manners, are a medly of lyes and fi­ctions; it is requisite she should have a faithful remembrance to hinder tripping and contradiction, which would detect the falshood of her intentions, no less than the sophistry of her words. Re­member, Dorothea, what form of treat­ment may best comport with every per­son, [Page 161] according to the variety of his hu­mour and quality. What ever he be, whether of the long Robe, or one that wears a Cloak of the Geneva cut, whe­ther one of the black Gown, or the red Coat, whether Gentleman or Me­chanick, let him hold his Heart fast, and his Purse loose, if he be of small credit, let him be of greater advantage.

Dor.

I expected you would have said more of the modest.

M. C.

Voh, voh, voh, this Cough kills me. I did intend to have been more particular on that large subject, but I have so many things in my Head, I shall forget many points that are mate­rial, if I dwell long on any one.

Dor.

Proceed.

M. C.

You must know how to bridle that indiscretion, which is natural to men who have spent seven years behind a Counter.

Dor.

The Citizen, I suppose you mean.

M. C.

A brisk check will keep these Spaniels in order and obedience, better than fawning dalliances or flattering ca­resses: let not these however be alto­gether wanting; but let a bit and a stroak [Page 162] go together, or rather follow succes­sively as the nature of the Animal may require.

Dor.

I should love to shew my Au­thority on these tame Creatures.

M. C.

Let my Pupil rest fully assured that the most profitable, easy and secure Traffick is to deal with honest wealthy Citizens. A rich Mercer can with more ease rig out a Whore, than a score of ranting blades: and an Apprentice that is Cash-keeper to a substantial Citizen can oblige a young Lady, with larger supplies than a Regiment of modish Gen­tlemen. These are the golden Lovers, you must by all possible arts endea­vour to make your own: a small propor­tion of Flattery, and a spice of coun­terfeit Affection will be sufficient baits to captivate these mute Fish; when once they are fast in the Net, there is but little danger of their making escape; a frown, a contracted Brow, or a harsh word will quiet them at any time, and make them willing to gratifie your most exorbitant demands.

Dor.

These modest guests are much more to my humour, than the Huffs you spake of just now.

M C.
[Page 163]

All the time you live at large, you must remember to set apart the Sun­days, and other Festivals of the Year, for the service of young Citizens, for Apprentices have only those times gran­ted them, to breath a little free Air, out of their Masters Houses or Shops. What I have already said of the hypo­critical, and the fearful Lovers, as like­wise those precepts already laid down to enslave young Gentlemen, may be applyed to this place, as being necessa­ry to regulate the several sorts and de­grees of Citizens.

Dor.

I fear, Madam, you are in some hast.

M. C.

Not at all, Daughter. If this defluxion will give me leave, voh, voh. I will methodically compleat the work of the day.

Dor.

Pray be pleased so to do.

M. C

I have already hinted, That you must be critically obsequious in paying every man those respects that are due to his birth and imployment, in such sort that you seem neither too haughty, nor yet contemptible by any mean conde­scension: even with great Men you must preserve this decorum, not seem­ingly [Page 164] to want, or care for their money, you will the easier arrive at the end of your own desires: and by standing on your punctilios, be able on all occasions, to calm the heat and extravagance of any insulting Hector, not suffering your self to be fed with that aery nutriment (loud big words) which is the usual entertainment of certain Bravos. With all Men without distinction of persons, you must study to be in your dissem­bling and cheating Talents crafty and cunning, in your delights graceful, and in your perswasions powerful: thus you will in some sort imitate the good Ora­tor, and fulfil the practical Doctrines in your own Rhetorick. The memory which belongs properly to you, is not so much an immense capacity, qualified to receive and retain all objects represen­ted to the exterior, and thence introdu­ced to the general and interior sense; as an artificial ready remembrance of all points necessary in your own Trade, and the perswading power of your elo­quence, which consists in timing your words and actions with a seasonable dis­cretion, assigning every part of your art its proper place, and feeding your [Page 165] Lover with a real, or at least an imagi­nary pleasure.

Dor.

Good Mother, do not confine your self to the Rules of Rhetorick, be­cause that will render your precepts obscure, and as to me scarce intelli­gible.

M. C.

Where your interest, and the Rules of Art concur, there you will permit me to speak in terms consonant to the name I have given the discourse. Where they jarr, I promise to forget the Rhetorick for your particular advan­tage.

Dor.

I thank you.

M. C.

What the Rhetoricians call Disposition, is requisite in this place to regulate the several parts of interest to the best advantage. The Rhetor some times perswades with arguments drawn from true History, Realities, and the nature of things; but when such can­not be brought to square with his pre­sent design, he makes no scruple to intro­duce fictions, chimera's, shadows, and such like notions, that serve the turn as well, and tickle the Auditors ears as effectually, nay oft times better than if he had handled nothing but solid [Page 166] matter, and the real substance.

Dor.

Must I imitate him here?

M C

In like manner the Female O­rator must strive to make the best use and advantage of substantial Flesh and Blood, solid Kisses, and sensible Tou­ches: but if these do not sufficiently mortifie an obdurate Lover, nor make him drop any golden Tears, she must not be unprovided of lascivious Pictures, obscene Images and Representations to raise her own and her Lovers joys.

Dor.

This is a thing I never dream­ed of.

M. C.

When you are detained in ugly, sordid, or ungrateful embraces; it would be difficult without the artifi­cial aid of a picture to counterfeit those ecstasies which every comer may expect for his money. Therefore on these oc­casions you must frame in your mind the Idea of some comely Youth who pleases you best, whose shadow will create a greater gust than could be raised by a nauseous though real enjoyment. The Picture of this charming Boy may very fitly be placed near your Bed, to im­print the fancy deeper in your imagina­tion, and enable you to fall into those [Page 167] sweet transports, which do singularly gratifie the enjoyers heart.

Dor.

This gallantry does almost ravish me, because it is altogether new.

M. C.

The dexterous acting this dy­ing part, the artificial counterfeiting an immoderate passion, will ever produce very advantagious effects: the deceived Gamester believing these amorous pangs created by himself, will be apt to fall into the like trance, will approve of the ardour of his own flame, and be ready to comply in the generosity of a grate­ful return.

Dor.

That is still the burthen of the Song.

M. C.

In this act young Ladies do oft forget their interest, and when the per­son does not please, it is a piece of self-denial my Scholar must learn, to make it appear he does To prevent then any discovery of nauseating the present Bed­fellow; a continual mindfulness of her own interest, and the assistance of a handsome Picture are the best and most easy remedies. The whole series of car­nal satisfaction does purely consist in fancy, and he effectually enjoys most, whose imagination is strongest, who [Page 168] frames in his mind the highest conceptions of joy and content. This artifice there­fore is principally necessary in conjun­ction with certain credulous humours, who believe themselves adored by the whole Female Sex: such will as it were force their Mistresses to dissolve in pleasure, and give sence of a sincere de­light, in regard their own fancies are high and elevated. They would other­wise count her dull and insensible of that weight of bliss she enjoyes in the circum­ference of their Arms.

Dor.

And it may be a weight too of folly and impertinence.

M. C.

That is more than probable, and men of this faith are to be heightned in their folly; no excess of false trans­ports can be ever found out by such believing Proselytes, as being already full of themselves, and prepossessed of their own particular merits.

Dor.

I should love to bubble such con­ceited Coxcombs.

M. C.

Besides the Male Picture pre­scribed for your use, you must be stockt with others of a different nature to ope­rate on your visitants more effectually than the similitude of your Ganymede [Page 169] could affect your self. These must make up a part of your houshold-stuff, must consist of the best draughts of Men and Women naked, in sweet caresses, and dying postures. It will not be ex­pedient to have such hung about your Bed Chamber or elswhere, however they need not be wanting on one side of the Bed, in such order to be absconded at pleasure, and again to appear when necessary, by withdrawing a Curtain or other Veil that must hang over them. It is fit likewise these bawdy incentives should be under cover when you happen to entertain any number of your follow­ers together, for at such times genteel and modest conversation is most agree­able. Beside, I would have you make it your business to be seen at home some­times, ingaged with grave and sober company, and when that can be had of your own Sex, for I judge it necessary you should personate the reserved, the coy Dame, saving when the scene of enjoyment begins to appear on Loves Theatre.

Dor.

And then it seems I must throw off the vizard of modesty.

M. C.
[Page 170]

These obscene Images do pro­duce marvellous effects towards the pro­pagation of Love, they insinuate at every pore of the Eye an extravagant desire to gratifie the sensitive appetite, they spur Men on by an irresistable im­pulse toward the venereal Bed; from whence he ought at no time be suffe­red to come off a winner.

Dor.

If he does, I have but ill deser­ved your instructions.

M. C.

By means of such Pictures, new Lovers may be acquired, especially when they are of an exquisite and extra­ordinary nature, and when your skill in your profession, and your good temper do concur to animate these uninformed beings.

Dor.

I hope neither shall be wanting.

M. C.

I desire my young Student to believe the usefulness of these amorous scenes as an infallible truth. In this par­ticular all Men are of a Romish perswa­sion; in as much as their devotion at the Shrine of Venus is extreamly enliven­ed by the prospect of a naked Saint. Let care be taken that none appear in this number who have dyed Martyrs in the cause of Venus. That would be a [Page 171] mortifying sight, and ingrateful to the amorous Goddess, whose Votaries are of a Geneva stamp, all militant, but mor­tal enemies to that Bugbear, called Pas­sive obedience.

Dor.

And who can blame them?

M. C.

Aretin's Figures have no place in my Rhetorick, and, I hope, will find no room in my Pupils apartment. They are calculated for a hot Region a little on this side Sodom, and are not ne­cessary to be seen in any Northern Clime.

Dor.

What do you mean by Aretin's Figures?

M. C.

Only, Child, Six and Thirty Geometrical Schemes which he drew for his own diversion.

Dor.

What have I to do with those hard names, are those tame things to be had here?

M. C.

Four and Twenty rough draughts may be had for money.

Dor.

Pray tell me of something I un­derstand, and which is proper for this cooler Region. Though I have an itch to know what you mean by the Figures, for I am sure it is something else than what you have yet told me.

M. C.
[Page 172]

Aretin, Daughter, among other things was a great Astronomer, and par­ticularly had an exquisite knowledge in the nature of Mars and Venus, and in all the Seasons, and varieties of their conjunction.

Dor.

Pray proceed in what I desired to know.

M. C.

I have seen a certain draught of Pictures that would serve sufficiently on this occasion, hanging one way it might be set up in a Cathedral, but the reverse was able to seduce a Hermit into ob­scene thoughts. Such a Model as this may be had, and at an easy rate, it may appear barefaced in your Lodgings, and on oc­casion, with an easy motion, turning the upside down, the obscenity appears, of power to raise a luxuriant heat, and a beastly appetite. This Scene with its double Face, must be furnished with variety, to make it a sufficient Theatre for the diversion of the amorous pair, affording a large field of pleasure, and a multiplicity of forms to pay Cupids de­lightful Tribute. This pleasing spe­ctacle will ever sensibly affect the seeing organ, so turning the leaf accor­ding to what diversity the eye discovers [Page 173] as most pleasant, a harmonious discord will thence arise, and in the delight, which is still the same, that diversity will be found, which is the sole uni­versal sauce of all terrene sweets.

Dor.

Must I lead or follow in this Daunce?

M. C.

It is civil you should submit to the Mans choice in the capriole to be next cut; however I will allow you sometimes to make use of your nega­tive Vote, in refusing to tread such steps as may disparage the Dance, and approving others that may hasten and increase that beatitude so much va­lued by foolish and unthinking Lovers.

Dor.

would they were all so.

M. C.

You must remember to observe in the exercise of this Precept, which are the best, and most agreeable positi­ons, to the end you may be able to instruct a raw Lover in the practice of these exquisite deportments, nothing in nature will be more engaging with Men than to meet them half way in these re­creations, or even sometimes to act the teachers part. When you shall have practised and understood a multiplicity of these capricious Games, you must [Page 174] make use of your memory to retain as eligible those forms, that were found to please most, and to avoid others that were found troublesome, or did create disgust.

Dor.

Will it not be dangerous to seem knowing in this affair?

M. C.

That was the caution I did in­tend to deduce from the Doctrine of Images. You must with all strangers and new friends, or such on whom you have particular designs, make it your busi­ness to appear wholly ignorant in all new modes, or at least you must handsome­ly pretend that nature, and sometimes a mighty affection, and desire to please your Lover, has inspired you with this dexterity.

Dor.

I am of opinion it is best to seem at all times wholly ignorant, and only to afford a civil condescension.

M. C.

I cannot be against what you say, for it may prove inconvenient, that your knowledge should be thought to proceed from art and experience; for Men do for the most part believe this sort of skill in Women, as nauseous in an amorous conversation, as a Pedant's learning in civil society; unless it be [Page 175] when they may conclude themselves the Authors and Instructers in this piece of obscene gallantry. With Men there­fore that are troubled with a discerning faculty, I am satisfied, you should plead ignorance, rather than disoblige your Guest, by seeming wise to a superfluity.

Dor.

I think so too.

M. C.

The unfolding the amorous scene will soon excite any Man of po­tent Flesh and Blood to shew his skill in the imitation; then a feeble resistance, with a declaration of being unacquainted with the practical part, may serve to raise his appetite, and possess him with an opinion, That his Mistress made that purchace for ornament and not for use.

Dor.

It will be requisite he should think so.

M. C.

I would have you inquisitive to discover all those hard ways, through which the famous Curtezans of the Age have dug out their victorious for­tune; and the several precipices from whence others, no less remarkable in their infelicity, have been tumbled head­long: the first will serve as a Spur to push you forward in that fortunate road; [Page 176] and the other may be a useful caution to avoid those Rocks whereon others have so lately shipwrackt.

Dor.

Point me out some of those dan­gerous Rocks.

M. C.

One of the main causes of a young Traders miscarriage in the World is, a fond passion for some one of her Lovers, fixing her hopes and thoughts on a single person, which as I have al­ready told you, never fails to bring de­struction on Fortune, Body and Reputa­tion; it is the greatest curse that can hap­pen to any Lady of this Profession, be­cause it destroys all those ways and means that should make her happy.

Dor.

I presume you mean such per­sons as are neither fit for Husbands, nor Keepers; and I think you have told me so already.

M. C.

Another main instrument of the Whores misery, is a lewd and an open conversation, admitting all sorts of men to a familiarity, without any distinction or regard of persons.

Dor.

I should not wonder at that.

M. C.

Others finally, not resolute nor steady in the government of them­selves, careless in their Trade, and fan­tastical [Page 177] Lovers of their own capricious humours, do miserably shatter their pros­perity, which by steering a regular course, might have been preserved intire, and perfected at last with a plentiful re­turn of riches and honour.

Dor.

It were strange if such giddy pates did ever fare better.

M. C.

Many young beginners do rashly addict themselves to a scandalous liberty in drinking, lewd swearing, and open ribaldry, foolishly judging all these as necessary incidents to any Whore, that would make a remarkable figure in the World.

Dor.

To be remarkably abused.

M. C.

Whereas in effect there is no­thing can more certainly bring them into contempt and misery.

Dor.

It is scarce possible it should be otherwise.

M. C.

Men will, it is true, in a jovial humour encourage all the vile excesses that the most profligate stripping Whore can act, yet at the same time they ap­plaud, they must needs entertain a secret hatred and scorn for such wretched Prostitutes.

Dor.

That they must needs do.

M. C.
[Page 178]

They are solicitous for this wild diversion, as they are for the sight of a Bartholomew Shew, a Harlequin or Jack-pudding, but once a year, and then too the Farce grows nauseous before it is half ended.

Dor.

Before it is well begun.

M. C.

These infirmities are to be a­voided by Whores, with equal care as they are shunned by industrious and thri­ving Merchants. The loss of time and neglect of business are the natural ef­fects of these enormities, and the genu­ine causes of a lost reputation.

Dor.

I love those Rules that prescribe sobriety.

M. C.

If you would desire to main­tain your Body in good order, you must be nicely cautious not to allow any com­merce with Men noted to fly at all Games, and famous for never wanting a Neapolitan running-Nag.

Dor.

I conceive you.

M. C.

I will explain my self more largely at another time, but I am now in hast to tell you, that these are very dan­gerous and as unprofitable Guests; their Money is dispersed into so many Purses, no one Lady can receive any advantage [Page 179] by it, as a River is lost by being divided into may Channels.

Dor.

What similitudes you make?

M. C.

You must avoid such company as you would a Pest-house, or as a young Scholar would the irregularity of break­ing Priscian's Head.

Dor.

What is that?

M. C.

It is a Proverb used in Schools against any one that makes a false con­cordance in the Latin Idiom. Of this solecism thou wilt be guilty in a literal sence, if thou approach any of these virulent Bodies, because thou must im­part some of the same sauce to the next Customer, and so effectually break the real Priscian's Head.

Dor.

I shall have a care of that for my own sake

M. C.

You must strive to out-do the severest Moralist, in controlling and sub­jugating all your untowardly and preju­dicial passions, as love, any external marks of envy, hatred, malitious anger, and such like.

Dor

Why, may I not be sometimes angry?

M. C.

With some fond Lovers a lit­tle of it may not be amiss. But for the [Page 180] most part it is best to mollifie a hardened Lover with a Crocodile tear, and re­dress injuries that will be offered by mildness, a seeming patience, and neat­ly imposing a pecuniary mulct, rather than cursing, bawling, or any Billingsgate arguments

Dor.

In what cases must I avoid any shew of envy?

M. C.

Principally in shunning a silly errour very common among Whores.

Dor.

What is it?

M. C.

It is the humour of exclaiming, detracting and vilifying one another with an envious and envenomed Tongue.

Dor.

According to the vulgar saying, That two of a Trade can never agree.

M. C.

I know it is impossible a Whore should see any of her Sisters in finer Cloaths than she can compass, or more caressed, without secretly cur­sing her Rival in her Soul, and enter­taining such damning wishes, as two competitors at Court do in private pour out against one another.

Dor.

And how is it possible to contain without bursting?

M. C.

Alas Child! How does that expression agree with the uninterrupted [Page 181] hypocrisie and dissimulation I prescri­bed Yesterday. I say you must put on a serene countenance, a pleasant look, and a Tongue dipt in Honey and Oyle, when you happen to talk to any of your Servants of the other Whores about the Town.

Dor.

Does not commending others e­qually disparage ones self?

M. C.

Good Faith, Daughter, I be­lieve, there is scare a Whore in Chri­stendom, who is not of that opinion; and yet Creswel dares swear, they are as much astray in that particular, as the unthinking Keeper, who is perswaded of the honesty of his Mistress.

Dor.

Is there no such thing then as an honest Whore?

M. C.

I have known in my time more Whores than would Hand in Hand make a larger circle than the circumference of London; yet never could set sight of the thing called an honest Whore. It is true, young Whores like young Sinners, are oft-times troubled with a weak and distempered Brain, whimsies, reluctan­cies, sorrow, repentance, and some faint glimpses of what the World calls vertue; but I must tell you, till all these sha­dows [Page 182] are vanished, they do not deserve the glorious name of Whores.

Dor.

For Heavens sake, Mother, no more of this it will raise Clouds in my Brain, with I shall not be able to dissi­pate.

M. C.

But to do the memory of the Lady, justice, I remember to have heard of one honest Whore.

Dor.

I am glad on't.

M. C.

Who refused the Son entrance, because the Father had already travelled that Road.

Dor.

I am afraid, Madam, I should be of that Ladies humour.

M. C.

Fy, fy, Child, there is no such precept in natures Law. I have been lately under the clutches of the Law, and if I were not afraid that a Scandalum Magnatum might bring me into such ano­ther praemunire, I could shew thee a no­ble precedent to confute thee and remove this error.

Dor.

I guess your meaning. It is an intrigue might afford matter for a No­vel, which would in part take off the scandal of translating daily such num­bers of French ones, that are in my mind, fitter for the necessary House than the [Page 183] Closet. But now I must return to de­sire you will inform me, how I ought to commend other Whores, I am sure it must not be without some discreet re­serves or equivocations.

M. C.

That I will allow. You may do it just as the Fanaticks pray for the King.

Dor.

That is, not at all.

M. C.

Yes they do; but it is still with a but at the end of it. You may say, Such and such a Lady is handsome and agreeable, then cunningly insinuate some­thing that may defeat the encomium: or to come nearer the simile, praise the Ladies good qualities, then with a fly but, (as if sorry for her failings) hook in with pitty and compassion in your mouth, what may fully the good. Wish her better advised, and better Counsel­lors, and pretend concern and regret for her infirmities.

Dor.

What good effects will this produce?

M. C.

It will infallibly make the Gentleman most intirely thine if thou canst act the part neatly. He will be amazed to find such an unheard of piece of good nature in a Whores Mouth, [Page 184] and be in love with thee for thy vertue, more than were possible on the score of a Face.

Dor.

This part I must learn to per­sonate.

M. C.

You should gull your Lover at this time with the same dexterity the Fanatick Parson does his hearers. You must cloath your discourse with a meek, grave, and a pious aspect, to make your sophistry pass for sincere and real.

Dor.

Were you ever imposed on by any of these Preachers.

M. C.

I have been oft at their Meet­ings, not to edifie by their Doctrine, but to propagate my own.

Dor.

If you will tell me what you used to see and hear in such places, I shall reckon it among the number of your favours, and I fancy the digression may not be altogether impertinent to the business in hand.

M. C.

I have heard the lecherous Goddess Venus talkt of in those Con­venticles.

Dor.

Did the Holder-forth give her that epithete?

M. C.

Verily he did: And once, I remember, proceeded to talk of the [Page 185] bawdy Flora (so he termed her) so much celebrated by old Rome, and to com­pare her with the Scarlet Strumpet, now so much adored in the same place.

Dor.

Was there any more of this nature?

M. C.

I protest, Child, to have heard the Menstruous Cloath painted to the Congregation in plain colours, more obscene and filthy than the thing it self, At another time the Saint had occasion to harangue on the test of Virginity ex­plained in Moses's Law, and laid open in a large scene of ribaldry.

Dor.

Foh! Sure the beast must have acquired this breeding at Amsterdam or some such place.

M. C.

Thou hast, I believe, hit pretty near the mark.

Dor.

But it was not this I desired to hear, but how he made his impressions on the deluded Assembly, because you said a Whore should imitate him in that particular.

M C.

That is, I confess, the greatest wonder of all, that even in the midst of that mixture of obscenity and pro­faneness, when there was no more seem­ing cause of any emotion than at the [Page 186] hearing a dull bawdy Farce, that the Pa­stor should be able to extort from the pious Assembly such heavy groans, and deep sighs, as if he had been reading the Commination, or denouncing nothing less than Darkness, Fire and Brimstone.

Dor.

How was that possible?

M C.

As I am a Christian it is true; but as to the possibility of it, I my self am a little at a stand, and can only an­swer thy question by telling thee, he was a gifted Preacher.

Dor.

What is that?

M. C.

That is one inspired with a double portion of the Spirit of hypocri­sie, one who hath served seven years to the Trade of Gerning, putting on a starched countenance, an edifying look, and the white innocence of a Soul-sa­ving eye.

Dor.

His Doctrine then, it seems, borrowed all its efficacy from the Saints gestures.

M. C.

There was nothing else to re­commend it to the Assembly, unless it were a number of tautologies larded with nonsense.

Dor.

Notwithstanding the nonsense, I fancy, he might have some quali­ties [Page 187] fit for a Whore to imitate.

M. C.

The Sun does not shine on any mortal, I would sooner propose as a compleat pattern for my Scholars exam­ple in the histrionick part of the Whores learning, than one of these Parsons, who is throughly instructed in all his paces.

Dor.

Sure it must be something extra­ordinary in him that you prize so highly, pray tell me some of his particular ex­cellencies.

M. C.

First, Child, he is a Man can work miracles with his pharisaical Face, before he lets one word drop from his Puritan Lips; you may see his Flock reduced to mighty extremities, exces­sive agonies, and even toward a dange­rous state of desperation, when first the Geneva-Apostle mounts the Tub.

Dor.

And all this at a mute shew?

M C.

Ay, ay; He spends at least a quarter of an hour in this dumb conju­ration, about a third of the whites of his Eyes to be seen, the Lids twinkling like the reflexion of a Star at Night in a pool of Water, with Brows contra­cted, and Mouth wryed, before he squeezes the Clasps of his Dutch Bi­ble, [Page 188] or even mutters one single word.

Dor.

Sure, Mother, you left all your spleen at home, the day you went to hear this Evangelical Mountebank.

M. C.

I usually went to those places about business of importance, and it stood me upon't, not to disoblige the many substantial Friends I had there of both Sexes, with an Antichristian or a Prelatical laugh.

Dor.

You had a wonderful stock of continence.

M. C.

Notwithstanding, if I had not been well read in Conventicle demure­ness, it had been impossible to have re­frained at seeing the Sisters, with greedy Eyes, fixed in the contemplation of this powerful spectacle; only sometimes they removed for a short space, in pur­suit of several Texts, as if the Gospel Trumpeter had been all the while sound­ing quotations.

Dor.

If his looks were so prevalent, his words sure made much deeper and more wonderful impressions.

M. C.

After the first scene was over, he cleared up a little, and in part remo­ved the Cloud that had hung over his mysterious visage; he opened his Eyes [Page 189] a thought wider, and began to wag his Lips, which he continued to do for al­most another quarter, before one word could be kidnapped by the most zealous and attentive Elder.

Dor.

I vow, Madam, I had rather say Amen to a Latin Mass, than to such a piece of religious mockery.

M. C.

But when as the Oracles voice was heard, and the holy Impostor be­gan to shew his juggling tricks and le­gerdemains:

Dor.

You mean his Sophistical and Seditious Doctrine.

M. C.

Then it was one might have seen the Rabble about this Empirick's Stage, quite overwhelmed with spiritual ejaculations, and enthusiastick raptures.

Dor.

I had rather see this Comedy, than the Plain Dealer, or the Country Wife.

M. C.

I thought thou never hadst seen a Play.

Dor.

Very few, Mother, but pray go on.

M. C.

It was a pleasant piece of pa­geantry to behold the gulled multitude swallow the Mountebanks Pills as the most sovereign Catholicums, or universal Medicines.

Dor.
[Page 190]

It is well you explained your self, else I had taken your Catholicum for a Popish word.

M. C

It was diverting to perceive the heedless (though attentive) Sheep led astray by this seducing Shepherd, and the unwary Animals intoxicated by the poysonous humours inspired from this Serpents forked Tongue.

Dor.

I am afraid some of them owe you money, you inveigh against them with so much zeal.

M. C.

It had been a pleasant enter­tainment for any disinterested Ear, to have heard the Lungs of this numerous meet­ing all strain together, to shew their zeal, and the warmth of their Devo­tion, at the conclusion of each long winded period; just as a Consort of Vo­cal Musick may be heard to conspire in a refreshing breath, after the end of a tedious Song.

Dor.

How naturally have you expres­sed it?

M. C.

If I should delineate this Mon­ster in all its deformities, I must be more tedious than his nauseous Preach­ment: I will therefore pass over his other good qualities, and only at present [Page 191] recommend him to my Scholar, as an exquisite Harlequin, or Scaramuccia, that can personate any humour, can at pleasure command a tear, a select shrug, or any mimical gesture that may serve to vend his empty verbose Drug for solid found Ware.

Dor.

Would you would get me one of these Conventicle Jack-puddings, to make me Mistress in this art.

M. C.

He might be had on easy terms, for the State begins to take pity of this canting Tribe

Dor.

Why then will you not procure me such a necessary Tutor?

M. C.

He would infallibly debauch thee, Child, (as one may say) in Forma pauperis.

Dor.

That is, without purchasing on a valuable consideration.

M. C.

I will not venture thee any long time from under my own tuition, however I will not see thee remain ig­norant in this qualification; I will pre­scribe thee ways to compose thy Brow, or make it muddy on occasion, to squeez a Tear, and imitate April weather, to dart a smile through a fruitful showre.

Dor.
[Page 192]

I am glad to hear you make that promise.

M. C.

It is on this matter I intend to conclude my Rhetorick, and the work of the Day. I have hitherto chiefly in­sisted on what might seem necessary to furnish your intellectual faculties, to in­vent, dispose and place every part of your perswasive, in an orderly and ad­vantagious method. I must now lay down some useful Rules how to regulate the external acts of the Body, which is no less necessary in this exercise than the modelling the mind it self.

Dor.

I admire the regularity of your method

M. C.

A graceful pronunciation is an essential part of an Orator, consisting of two parts, a judicious framing the Voice as the matter requires, and assu­ming that gesture of Body that may ope­rate most effectually on the present hearers.

Dor.

How comes a gesture to be a part of right pronunciation?

M. C.

It is however an appurtenance: the one serves to move the affections, making its charming notes penetrate the Ear: the other insinuates it self into [Page 193] the Eyes of Men. In like manner you must be expert at these parts of corpo­ral eloquence, having an artificial dex­terity in the management of your tongue and the movement of your other Mem­bers. A good Voice will mightily con­duce to the efficacy of your perswa­sive, and tuneable according to the Rules of Musick; for as I have already hin­ted, neat Singing is a singular advantage to a Whore, and a strong allurement to the solace of love

Dor.

I love this part of Rhetorick.

M. C.

This qualification is found highly to improve all Creatures that are capable of it, above their ordinary worth and value. A well instructed Parrot is worth Money for its mimical chat.

Dor.

A Parrot does not sing, Madam.

M. C.

But I am going to tell you of the Canary Bird that does, and which is purchased at dear rates for the variety and pleasure of its artificial notes.

Dor.

What more?

M. C.

And an insipid Singing-Master is admitted into gentile society, for the diversion, his regulated Voice may af­ford the company

Dor.
[Page 194]

Have a care you do not make his Worship grow proud with such a favourable character.

M. C.

If I were not talking to a fair Maid, I would here shew the excel­lence of a good voice in helping to set off an ordinary Face, as a new bush, or a good Face at bar does serve with un­distinguishing palates, to palliate the im­perfection of debauched Wine.

Dor.

I drop you a curtzy for that complement.

M. C.

She is sure to be caressed and admired by all Men, who is provided of this vocal accomplishment, and even by those who neither are affected with, nor understand the power of musical num­bers.

Dor.

Are young Gentlemen so much of the Monkey, to mimic things they do not value, only because they see them please others?

M. C.

Thou hast put me in mind of a certain Spark, ha, ha:

Dor.

Who did he Ape?

M. C.

That takes snuff eight Months in the Year, in deference to the King; and the other four takes none in complai­sance to the Duke.

Dor.
[Page 195]

Ha, ha, I could laugh at the Noddy a Week together. But methinks (with submission) the King should grant him a Letter of licence to lay up his Snuff-Box for two Months more to make it up the even Six, because, peo­ple say, he is desirous every body should treat his Brother with the same respects they do himself.

M. C.

Well, but to the Song again. I tell you, Daughter, all the fictions of the Poets concerning Syrens, and the prodigious effects of their charming notes, are comprized in the centre of a fair Ladies Voice, for that is the ge­nuine mythology of this Fable.

Dor.

I had thoughts several times to have asked you one question, which if you will give me leave I will do now.

M. C.

When you will.

Dor.

The apprehension of losing my Maidenhead hath already put me in pain, I have heard such terrible things of it.

M. C.

And all thou hast heard then, is a ridiculous foolery.

Dor.

Is it not as bad as the cut of a Sword?

M. C.
[Page 196]

No such thing.

Dor.

As pricking, as the thrust of a Rapier.

M. C.

Not at all.

Dor.

Like the opening of a Wound when the orifice is almost closed up?

M. C.

Thou art wide yet of the mark.

Dor.

The drawing of a Tooth?

M. C.

Wider.

Dor.

The tearing up of a Nail?

M. C.

No.

Dor.

Pray make me conceive it?

M. C.

Dost thou never remember to have scratched a certain fort of an angry Pimple, and thereby to have made it fret and bleed?

Dor.

I do remember.

M. C.

The smart thou felt then is just like that thou mayest expect, when thy virginal flower is snatched away.

Dor.

Is that all? I shall no longer be afraid of shadows. But pray do not for­get what you were going to say when I interrupted you.

M. C.

I was ready to tell you, that Love and Musick do seem to bear a near resemblance in their own natures; an agreeable variety is in both the Mother [Page 197] of Harmony, and where there is the least appendix wanting, a harsh discord is thereby created as certainly in Love, as it is in Musick. A symmetry in the Person, Dress and Speech of a Lady that would excite Love, is as requisite as an accurate Player, a good Instrument, and right in tune, to raise a harmonious proportion in musical numbers.

Dor.

Why do you make Love and Musick so near akin, because it is odds if a Whore has a great deal of Musick, but she will likewise be apt to receive the impression of Love?

M. C.

I would not have you fond of any Musick created by your self, much less what you hear of anothers, your Love and your Voice must be both mercenary; a counterfeit Love, and a feigned Voice must be two of your prime Advocates, to plead your Cause at Cupid's Bar.

Dor.

The Lovers you mean?

M. C.

An aery Song is likewise very proper in a Whores mouth, to restore a languishing Lover with fresh vigour: and to supply him with new Spirits, who is weary and faint in the extremity of an amorous toil.

Dor.
[Page 198]

You have already told me some­thing like that.

M. C.

A good tale cannot be told too oft; therefore I tell you, your Voice must be still in tune, to hinder your Gallant from being surprized with de­sires, that might, if suffered to grow on him, destroy loves Empire, take a­way the vertue of your eloquence, and ruine all the political designs of your in­terest. There is no absolute necessity you should exceed in the knowledge of this art; it is sufficient to be able on oc­casion, to entertain your friend with a lively Song, and to give life to certain artificial graces, which in a young La­dies Mouth breath a most sweet air, to refresh and fan that flame, which sometimes finds reception in the centre of an enamoured Heart. No grave heavy canticles must be heard at these times, but all amorous compositions apt to ex­cite luxury, and create a particular de­light. It is fit to observe a seasonable discretion, in disposing the Musick in its proper place, not to prove tedious with the length, nor troublesome by singing at such seasons, when the appetite may possibly require an entertainment of a dif­ferent nature.

Dor.
[Page 199]

That were worse than singing at meat.

M. C.

Beside this, there is another kind of harmony, a young Lady ought to acquire by practice on her own Voice: I mean an agreeable tone and sweet ac­cent in the expression of each word in ordinary conversation.

Dor.

How is that to be learnt?

M. C.

Not by any certain rules of art, but must be attained by your own in­dustry and practice. I have known Women do miracles with a sweet dying Voice; and indeed nothing can be more prevalent on the affection of any Man, than to hear a handsome Female express her self in apt terms, articulated with the advantage of a languishing air. In this particular you must play the Orator, to adorn every period with all the embel­lishments, Voice, Eyes and corporal Gestures can afford, still discreetly vary­ing in some points, as the different cir­cumstances of Person, matter, time and place may require. If you cannot at first arrive at a height of perfection in this affair, be not discouraged by a slender proficiency in your first attempts, you must frequently experiment your skill [Page 200] alone, as if your play fellow were list­ning to every word: however if you advance not to a high pitch in this vertue, you must be at some extraordinary pains to manage your tongue, if you cannot perfectly regulate your Voice.

Dor.

How, to manage my Tongue?

M. C.

It must be known that this Ar­row, the Tongue, shot from the Bow of the Lips, when kisses are dispensed, does make a very remarkable impression; and it is worthy observation, with what ala­crity the Blood and Spirits correspond to the raising a lascivious desire, at the gli­ding of this Member between the op­posite Lips, just so far as to hit the white, that is, the Lovers Teeth: but it is likewise true, that some not well in­formed in this exercise, thrusting their Tongues with impetuosity into the Mouth of him they kiss, do nauseate rather than please; or using this appur­tenance of a kiss indiscreetly at all times, do render it less pleasing, nay hated sometimes, as not agreeable to the ex­pressions of the sweetest love.

Dor.

This is a notion I was altogether a stranger to.

M. C.

This form of kissing, mankind [Page 201] learned from Pidgeons, amorous Birds, and dedicated to Venus; whilst we see in the simplicity of their amour they interchangably give one another the Beak. Let rude Women be corrected by these emblems of innocence into the graceful acting of this part: not striking their Tongue into anothers Mouth with such force as if they intended therewith to drive a Nail. Daughter.

Dor.

Mother.

M. C.

Remember you to frame your Tongue acute, in form of a Darts head, and so to dispose the motion that the extremity or tip may only pass to and fro tickling between the Lips, with­out forcing too hard on the borders of the Teeth. Be mindful also on these occasions to incite your beloved Soul to the table of Venus, as if your Tongue designed by penetrating there, to speak within, and make a sweet invitation to the amorous joyes; or that being rea­dy to expire with pleasure, you ought to breath your Soul, which being brought to the summity of your Tongue, would seem willing to remove its habitation, and find out a more beloved seat in the Lovers Breast.

Dor.
[Page 202]

I wonder, Mother, you do not set up a School, I am sure you would have a multitude of Scholars.

M. C.

In the excess of higher plea­sures, let the Tongue be buried in its proper grave, to be for a while there si­lent, contemplating those important af­fairs, that are transacted in the middle region. Or let it be rather imprisoned as a murtherer, as having given its con­sent, and deliberately contrived the death of two persons at one blow.

Dor.

You are florid, Madam.

M. C.

You must not forget to use the natural accents of dying persons, as my Heart, my Life, my Soul, I Dye, let us Dye together, and the like, which imply a counterfeit, if not a real sense. You must add to these, ejaculations, aspi­rations, sighs, intercision of words, and such like gallantries, whereby you may give your Mate to believe, that you are melted, dissolved, and wholly consumed in pleasure, though Ladies of large business are generally no more mo­ved by an imbrace, than if they were made of Wood or Stone.

Dor.

I never desire to arrive at that degree of mortification.

M. C.
[Page 203]

You know another and a bet­ter fortune expects you: but it is certain a universal Whore can receive but little satisfaction in point of venereal desires, neither indeed is it possible there should be any titillation in those parts, that are peradventure rubbed a dozen times in one day.

Dor.

No more than Grass can grow on a beaten Road.

M. C.

It is requisite however to give content, though she be seldom capable of receiving any, let her speak things as aforesaid to mollifie her companion in love, and make her self seem so too; and to give her words an authentick gloss, let all be ratified with shut Eyes, fal­ling off as breathless, and then awaken­ing in the extremity of a vehement sigh, as having been overcharged, languishing, and even extenuated with excess of joy.

Dor.

Are these forgeries never dis­covered?

M. C.

They are very beneficial when not detected, but are often discredited by being over-acted by some indiscreet Whores in many unnatural and extrava­gant transports, as if they had been bred to the great Saddle.

Dor.
[Page 204]

I wonder they are not always found out.

M. C.

If the scene be cunningly re­presented, it may pass for natural and lively: though if Men did but open the corner of one of their Eyes, they might easily perceive the impossibility of gi­ving a Woman any tast of delight, who is commonly tired with the fatigue of many repeated strokes. Their credulity must be managed in this juncture by all possible arts and stratagems, and though sense and reason might seem strongly to oppose this opinion, yet it is fit they should believe their dear Whore sensible of pleasure, nay constant, faithful, ver­tuous, disinterested, or what else she pleases to impose in contradiction to the testimony of a treacherous sense, or a deluded reason.

Dor.

How is it possible to abuse any Man to that height, who has the least shadow of understanding left?

M. C.

Daughter let not this Doctrine startle you. There is not one Trade in England that does not impose on their fel­low Subjects of another Profession in both these particulars: it would be tedi­ous to enumerate how every Society of [Page 205] Men cheats those of another rank, and how they again in a different manner, slur on those same persons, that first made them swallow the Gudgeon.

Dor.

You make then all the World to be both active and passive in a cheat?

M. C.

I cannot hinder thee to put that construction on the words, Though I desired only to shew thee, That hu­mane nature is weak, and that a Whore may by those Rules I have already shew­ed, deceive any Man of ordinary Flesh and Blood, if she will but firmly pos­sess herself of the necessity incumbent on her, of being cunning and artificial in all her plots. Marryed Women do daily discover new fine methods to abuse their Husbands; a discreet Dame can blind the good Mans Eyes, that he shall not perceive his own Horns, which are palpable to all the World beside: or if at any time he is forced to open his Eyes, and see them at large in a fair Glass; she makes him believe it is a de­ceptio visus.

Dor.

What do you mean by that?

M. C.

Something that his evil genius had maliciously formed to separate his affection from the bosome of a chast [Page 206] Spouse. Nay though the honest Man should find her in strange imbraces, yet it was only a lump of condensed air Sa­tan had brought into the way, to leave a new Devil of jealousie in possession of the Husbands Heart.

Dor.

I see married Ladies have like­wise their State-policy.

M. C.

She ever has a Crocodile Tear at hand to soften a resenting Cuckold, but if the Tool be soft and malleable, then an impudent look, a face assured with something better than Brass, and a series of diabolical Oaths, are the Poti­ons she pours down the Animals Throat, to carry off all grudges, fears or jealou­sies, and increase the Lethargick humor she has already made predominant in the heavy constitution of her passive Hus­band.

Dor.

Sure, Mother, it is a wicked Age we live in.

M. C.

Faith, Daughter, so it is, and was so every Age since Adam quitted the Garden of Eden: but methinks thou hast spoke what might more properly come out of the old Leechers Mouth, of whom I spoke a while since.

Dor.

You think then there is no dif­ference [Page 207] between the wickedness pra­ctised now adays, and the honest since­rity of our Fore-Fathers so much talk­ed of?

M. C.

I believe that Vertue and vice are at all times both triumphant in the World, though not in the same place or region; I fancy they may be appositely compared to the Ocean, which though immense in it self, and still the same, yet admits of Ebbs and Floods; when it runs up the Thames, it may be making a retreat through the doors of Tiber; when it is full Sea at Bristol, it may be low wa­ter at Tangier. Just so it is in the case of Vertue and Vice, they have their ri­sings and their falls, and as Vertue is banished one Country, she flies to the next that will receive her; then Vice steps into the exiles Throne, and usurps the Sovereignty till a new period of Years brings back the banished Lady, and restores her to her primitive splendor and glory.

Dor.

How does this agree with what we hear daily Preached, That no Age could parallel the enormities of this; that Vice is become epidemical, the World is corrupt, the Vessel of iniquity run­ning [Page 208] over, and a great deal to this purpose?

M. C.

What is said of the World is understood of the English World, and all centred within the circumference of this Land. And so it is true; the Fops are a degree more exquisite, and the La­dies a thought more tender-hearted than they were in King Edgar's days.

Dor.

I could raise one objection more against your opinion of Vertue and Vice, if you are not in hast to compleat the work of the day.

M. C.

I am ready to hear it.

Dor.

I have read Ovid's Metamorpho­ses in English, and I there find that the Goddess Astrea fled from Earth; now if this be true, and that by her is meant Justice, it follows, there was nothing left but rapine and oppression.

M. C.

Is it not a little irregular, Daughter, to propose the Poets Tale, after I had answered the Parsons resolve? however I will satisfie thee with two may be's. First it is possible the Poet was induced to tell the World of Astrea's flight, in that he found all the dispensa­tions of Fortune so partial and unjust: he thought it was no eaven hand that intail­ed poverty on him and all his fraternity, [Page 209] whereas those he called dull and insipid, (I take it for granted there were Law­yers and Aldermen in those days) could lead the World in a String, and abound in all the gifts of a propitious Planet, even to a dangerous superfluity.

Dor.

Now for the second may be.

M. C.

I presume that Ovid had either seen, or at least heard much of the books of Moses.

Dor.

That is more than I heard till now.

M. C.

And that by his golden Age, he means the state of Mans integrity, that by his fall he lost his original brightness, and degenerated into a meaner state, yet still preserved some beams of innate mo­rality in the purity of the Silver Age. Then the succeeding Generations grow­ing more wicked and ambitious, made them Swords and Spears, which natu­rally introduced the fancy of rugged I­ron. At which time the Goddess is said to have deserted her habitation here be­low. In this fiction, I fancy the Poet alluded to the deluge that was brought on Men in the Iron Age, when they be­came cruel, barbarous and savage as any instrument of [...]hat rusty metall; then [Page 210] Noah's ascending the Ark (who was then the just Man) and being lifted up there­in above the Earth, is what the Poet meant by Justice flying out of the world.

Dor.

You have done Ovid a great deal of right; but is not the latter part the comparing Noah and Astrea, a new no­tion of your own?

M. C.

Upon my honesty, I never met any such thing in all my reading, and therefore thou mayest at pleasure take or leave an old Wives conjecture.

Dor.

For Heavens sake, Madam, how came you to be so well read? Yesterday you quoted Seneca, you have talkt of Law, Politicks, a number of words not un­derstood by me, and indeed I think no­thing but Divinity escaped you.

M. C.

Why really, Child, as to that I can readily tell thee, Creswel has con­versed many long Years, if not in the Schools, yet with the Sons of the Pro­phets.

Dor.

Who do you call the Sons of the Prophets?

M. C.

Thou must expect to be resol­ved at some other time, because I am now in hast to reduce to the Doctrine of Gestures some particular accomplish­ments, [Page 211] in which you must endeavour to shew a singular grace.

Dor.

You are resolved to make me an accomplished Lady.

M. C.

It is a very endearing entertain­ment, when the first appearance of an­ger in a Ladies Face is resolved into a charming smile; just as when the Hea­ven overcast with dark Clouds admits an impetuous and sudden force of the Sun-beams, which in a moment disperse the thickest vapours, and make the aerial body serene and clear.

Dor.

You talk youthfully, Mother.

M. C.

Your Kisses, Curtzies, Cares­ses and imbraces must not be of the same stamp with those in ordinary use among Females. My Pupil must know how to grace every motion of her Body with some engaging gallantries, all her actions, looks, words, must he remarkable for some capricious but pleasing gayety. When a Lover appears under the Win­dow or Balcony, let your salute be hu­mourous and brisk, with an aery kiss dis­patched from the tops of your Fingers, you must seem as it were impatient of his company, and even ready to fly into your Lovers Arms in your Lodgings, [Page 212] even out of your venereal Nest, you must not sit idle like a lazy statue, but be still imployed in diverting the losing Gamester in dallying, mignardizing, and a thousand wanton expressions of love. You ought sometimes of a sudden seize the Prey with strict imbraces, and flatter it with the sweetest Kisses. The more surprizing and unthought of, these motions are, they still imply the impul­ses of love more strong and prevalent.

Dor.

This shall not be wanting.

M. C.

There is a particular method of lithping, which though an imperfection in speech, yet being judiciously mana­ged, may become a notable ornament to a Whores Tongue.

Dor.

I have been often chid for lisp­ing, but could never wholly relinquish it, because it is natural.

M. C.

This is not acquired by set rules but your own practice, and the ex­ercise of the most famous Traders must regulate you in this as in many other par­ticulars, better than you can by my do­cuments.

Dor.

Why should I not be guided by prime Ladies of quality in these affairs rather than by Whores.

M. C.
[Page 213]

So I would have you, if you can be sure to forsake them in those points that may prove destructive to the interest of your Profession.

Dor.

In what points?

M. C.

Time will not permit me to unlock the Ladies Cabinet, nor indeed my decayed Lungs, voh, voh, voh, voh, voh, else I could make a longer harangue on the marryed Dames State-Policy than I have done on the Whores Rhetorick. I will only tell thee at pre­sent, that they place their chief happiness, their summum bonum (as I have heard a Philosopher speak) in gratifying their carnal and obscene desires; whereas a Whores interest and worldly lucre ought to be considered as her first, last, and her greatest wish

Dor.

But marryed Women may law­fully place their thoughts on those things in obedience to their Husbands.

M. C.

Where hast thou spent thy days, that thou shouldest raise this strange no­tion of obedience from a Wife to her Husband? it has been laid in the Grave these many Years.

Dor.

Buryed, say you?

M. C.

Would you Daughter, be fond [Page 214] of eating a Venison Pasty, or any other Dish, if you had been for some Months before forced to feed on it Morning and Evening?

Dor.

It is certain I should hate it as I do poyson.

M. C.

In like manner Wedlock'd Dames grow weary of their Husbands, they are cloyed with a repetition of the same fare, and so very apt to disobey those persons they nauseate so much.

Dor.

You do not mean Women of honour and reputation?

M. C.

Quality and reputation are fine things, Child, but are not able to re­move a certain itch natural to our Sex: Honour in Women advances them only to act the Whore in a higher sphere, does not all contribute to quench the flame; for as there are two sorts of Beggers, one that with a stretched out Arm, implores the charitable assistance of all that he meets; the other a Begger of Quality, that craves as heartily, but with a bet­ter grace, of some worthy Patron in an honourable Dedication: so besides the Whore who receives the benevolence of all Men, and whose office I have already described, there is another equally cove­tous [Page 115] of Cupid's charity, though she de­dicates her self to a particular Gallant, who has treasure enough in his Veins to supply her honourable requests.

Dor.

Her lustful requests?

M. C.

I have already told you the great advantage you may hope to reap by a dexterous movement of the Body. Mo­tion is, according to the Philosopher, the cause of heat, and a brisk and lively one may prove in love the Parent of prolific flame, out of whose ashes there will infallibly spring a number of zealous Lovers.

Dor.

It must be a singular passion that is generated this way after the manner of a Phoenix.

M C.

As you must not be stiff not starched in your conversation, so neither in the ordering your Body; remembring that Venus transformed her self once into an Eel, to leave a precedent for young Ladies, not to degenerate from the first principle in this science, to be ambitious of perfection in the methods of dispen­sing pleasure. By this model you are taught to circulate, to wind, to turn and to wriggle.

Dor.

That is a filthy motion.

M. C.
[Page 216]

To stretch, to contract, to push forward, to retract, to raise up­ward, to bend down, and other delicious motions, that are acquired better by ex­periment than by any notional precepts.

Dor.

What should one do with all those motions?

M. C.

Choose those you like best, and throw the rest to the Dogs; and in the exercise of these several feats of a­gility, such, I say, as please you, care must be had to appear free and disingaged, but not to those mad excesses which be­speak a Lady inspired rather with fury and rage, than the lambent spirit of an amorous flame.

Dor.

It seems you look on this as a very necessary injunction, because you have put me in mind of it now the third time.

M. C.

Not to relinquish the form of a Rhetorick, and the subject of Elo­quence, I remember to have heard that Demosthenes, if I mistake not, had the reputation of a ready and an expert Ora­tor. To become perfect in the mimical part, he made use of a Glass, large e­nough to represent his whole person in its full dimension. Before this he used [Page 217] to make proof of himself, and in it ob­serving his own failings, he thus found it easy to correct them, and imprint in his memory that action or gesture which seemed to himself most agreeable and most likely to please others.

Dor.

Would you have me take the same method Demosthenes did?

M. C.

I would. You will daily find easy opportunities of applying your self to this practical part of learning. Eve­ry young Lady may have these clear Crystals for her privy Counsellours; and I advise you to make the best use you can of these bright aids. They serve to modifie the attire of the head, the tincture of the Face, the excellency of the Dress, and the symmetry of the whole.

Dor.

Every body consults them on all those doubts.

M. C.

But every body does not take care as you must, in such sort that there be not the smallest motion of the Brow, Eye, Lip, or other part that does not exactly square, to the compleating a perfect and a wanton beauty.

Dor.

This, I confess, is not so much regarded.

M. C.
[Page 218]

The quality of every look, eve­ry smile, must be adjusted to a singular aery grace; each step carry in it some­thing brisk and gay, that may demon­strate a lively deportment of the whole body.

Dor.

It shall be done

M. C.

As to your carriage in these and other particulars, in your Lodgings, at a Play, or elsewhere, you must careful­ly follow the approved precedents of the most knowing Ladies, still with an am­bition to improve the best examples, by your own ingenuity.

Dor.

Why do Whores appear oft­times masked at the Theatres and other publick places?

M. C.

A Mask is the Whores Label, the Flag she hangs out, to signifie to all Men, That the Lady in Masquerade is to be sold to him that makes the first ge­nerous offer.

Dor.

Sure no Man will make any of­fer before he sees what is under deck. Did you never hear, Mother, of buying a Pig in a Poak?

M. C.

They are sometimes bought up as Kings marry their Wives, even before their Faces are seen. But they [Page 219] have other designs in carrying these dark Lanthorns.

Dor.

That is probable: because Masks seem unnecessary to make them known; for Ladies of business, they say, may be discovered by their look, mien, and many other signs and tokens.

M. C.

A young Trader ought to be extreamly industrious to preserve her Face as long as she can, under the noti­on of strange and new: so it ever proves of ill consequence to be frequently seen bare-faced at Plays or any other publick places, which is well avoided by ap­pearing under the safe cover of a vizard.

Dor.

What prejudice can it bring to be well known, methinks it should be a part of her business in such places to make her acquaintance?

M. C.

I'de allow her sometimes to be seen without a false Face, but generally it is most convenient to make her Mar­kets under a disguise, she thereby is at liberty of going off with whom she likes best, without disobliging others; and as I told you now, she avoids the incon­venience of being Fly-blown, or bla­sted by the contagious Eyes of any spar­kish Cabal.

Dor.
[Page 220]

How do you mean?

M. C.

These Blades will sit on a young Lady, especially her that is sus­pected to have the least pretence to the Whores character, as a Consult of Phy­sicians o're sick persons, still concluding in the destruction of her honour and re­putation.

Dor.

The Physician kills the Body and these Gentlemen the good name, but sure they do not take this liberty without an experimental knowledge of the Ladies temper?

M. C.

It is the same thing for that. One will say he has debauched her, ano­ther will sweat to have lain with her such and such a Night, though possibly not one letter of either true.

Dor.

But it does a Woman equal pre­judice to be thought common, as effe­ctually to be so.

M. C.

You say right: and therefore a young Whore ought with all industry avoid being publickly talked of, which were impossible, unless she cheated them with these false colours.

Dor.

Is it not necessary I should know these caluminating Fops, to escape the censure and company of such empty Blabs?

M. C.
[Page 221]

I know them all, and will direct thee particularly in this critical point, and in all others necessary to be known, and which this accursed phlegm will not now suffer me to impart. Voh, voh, voh, voh, voh, voh. I am not able to proceed farther: so I can now only de­sire thee not to fancy thy self for the fu­ture any thing of a Woman, save what craft and fraud may seem essential to the Sex. Agreeably to a young Fe­male that is cloystered up in a Mona­stery, who has renounced the World, put on a new dress, new manners, new thoughts, and who is become (as the Lawyer has it) a person dead in Law; so you must now at your initiation in this profession devest your self of all Womanish conceits, abandoning that weakness and pusillanimity that renders many of our Sex, and more of your Trade the object of mens charity and contempt; and to compleat the parallel, be sure to believe your person dead as to all Laws, except those prescribed by your own interest Let this Rheto­rick be to you, (my dear Daughter) in­stead of a moving intelligence, to regu­late the new modelled Fabrick of your [Page 222] Heaven: let no other principle of life or motion be acknowledged in all your works, all your actions regulated in an exact comformity to it, and with the same mayest thou be ever preserved in a perfect state of undisturbed tran­quillity.

Dor.

Even so be it.

FINIS.

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