A Bad Woman! Heav'n bless us, Sirs! Who dare
Approach so near, to write her Character?
Plagues owe their Birth to her envenom'd Breath;
To see her's dangerous; [...] touch her, Death.
All Torments and all Ills at first did grow
From Her, and thence (as from a Spring) still flow.
He favour'd her too much, that call'd her Worse
Than all th' Ingredients cramm'd into a Curse.
The Bane of Mankind, Foe to Innocence,
First-born of Hell, and Poysons Quintessence:
Creation's Blot, and Nature's great'st Disgrace,
The Seven Deadly Sins drawn in One Face.
A Sex for Servitude by Heav'n design'd,
Yet the most proud and cruel of Humane Kind:
Bold, flattering, fond, disdainful, idle, vain,
A double Tongue, false Heart, and giddy Brain;
Inconstant, gadding, tattling, simple, light,
Compos'd of Rashness, Self-love, Fraud, and Spite;
Revengeful, sullen, covetous, ambitious,
Always complaining, envious, superstitious;
Faithless, ungrateful, subtle, troublesom,
Contentious with her Neighbours, more at Home:
Who always lives in the Intemperate Zone;
For Means and Measure she'll be rul'd by none;
But chilling Frost, or scorching Dog-days proves,
Mortally hates, or else too fondly loves.
The Studies of her Youth are wanton Dances,
Lascivious Songs, Plays, Masquerades, Romances:
These antedate her guilty, and begin
To debauch her long before she's ripe for Sin.
She ne'er regards the Laws of Right and Just,
But tramples all things to promote her Lust.
The Wickedness her Strength to act denies,
She by Deceit and Subtlety supplies.
With seeming Modesty she baits her Hooks,
Consults her Glass to frame enticing Looks,
Lisps, minces, simpers, and instructs her Eyes
What Glances are most charming, to surprise:
Her Face (as Tavern-bush) bedeck'd with Toyes,
Our easie Youth into her Toil decoys:
Her Curls, like Streamers waving, seem to court
Each spritely Combatant to storm the Fort;
Whilst naked panting Breasts too plainly show
Th' insatiate Thirst that she endures below.
And tho' in Single Life she oft be naught,
Yet when at length some doating Fop sh' hath caught,
And into wretched Noose of Wedlock brought,
By Midwife-Rules she boldly goes to Bed,
And on the Novice pawns a Maidenhead:
Who starts next Mor [...] to see her in his Arms;
She's perfect Hag, when stripp'd of Arts gay Charms;
The painted Roses of her Cheeks are dropt,
Hunch-back's discover'd, with Pads underpropt;
He's fore'd with strong Perfumes to guard his Nose
From poys'nous Whiffs of Breath, Arm-pits, and Toes [...]
Ah cursed LOVE! well art thou feigned Blind.
His Mistake's no less fatal in her Mind.
Handsom, she proves a Wench; Deform'd, a Witch;
If Poor, she makes him Beggar; Slave, if Rich:
Or if sh' affects the Name of Virtuous Woman,
(That's one who sins but seldom, is not Common)
She then takes privilege, and thinks she may
Justly rant, domineer, and disobey.
Her Husband soon into Consumption cast;
(For Back and Purse do both together waste.)
Whiles to allay, not quench her wanton Fires,
Sometimes she Dildoe, sometimes Stalion hires.
Fine Clothes, new Fashions, Gossipping, rich Fare,
And sturdy Gallants, take up all her Care.
Honour she counts an empty Term, no Tie;
Her Zeal's Pretence; her Study, Vanity;
Her Beauty, Paint; her Wit, Bawdry refin'd;
Her Kisses, Baits; her Love, a Snare design'd;
Her Soul (if she have one) so foul and base,
Hell's half asham'd it self t' afford it place.
But hold; enough. Let none be angry here,
And think our Pen too sharp a Nib doth bear:
All this of a Bad Woman's understood;
But prithee (Reader) shew me One that's Good.

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