THE

London-Bawd:

WITH HER

CHARACTER

AND

LIFE:

Discovering the

Various and Subtle

Intrigues

OF

Lewd Women

* * * * *

The Third Edition.

LONDON, Printed for John Gwillim near Sun Yard, in Bishopsgate-Steet, 1705. Price 3 s

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THE

London-Bawd.

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CHAP. I.

Her Character: Or what she is.

A BAWD

Is the Refuse of an Old Whore, who having been burnt herself, does like Charcoal help to set greener Wood on Fire; She is one of Natures Errata's, and a true Daughter of Eve, who having first undone herself, tempts others to the same Destruction. She has formerly been one of Sampson's Foxes, and has carried so much fire in her Tail, as has burnt all those that have had to do with her: But the mark being out of her Mouth, and she grown past her own Labour, yet being a well-wisher to the Mathematicks, she sets up for a Procurer of fresh Goods for her old Customers. And so careful she is to help Men to good Ware, that she seldom puts a Comodity into their hands, but what has been try'd before; and having always prov'd well, thinks she can Warrant 'em the better. She's a great Preserver of Maiden-heads; for tho' she Exposes 'em to every new Comer, she takes care that they shall never be lost: And tho' never so many get it, yet none carries it away, but she still has it ready for the next Customers. She thinks no Oracle like that of Fryar Bacon's brazen-Head, and is very forward to tell you that Time Was when the best Gentlemen wou'd have prefer'd her before any Lady in the Land: But when She repeats Time's Past, She makes a Wicked Brazen Face, and even weeps in the Cup, to allay the Heat of her Brandy. She's a great Enemy to all Enclosures, for whatever she has, she makes it common. She hates Forty One as much as an old Cavalier, for at that Age she was forc'd to leave off Whoring and turn Bawd: Her Teeth are all fallen out; at which her Nose and her Chin are so much concern'd, that they intend to meet about it in a little time, and make up the difference. She's the most like a Medlar of any thing, for she's never ripe till she's rotten. She is never without store of Hackney Jades, which she will let any one Ride, that will pay for their hire. She is the very Magazine of Taciturnity; for whatever she sees, she says nothing; it being a standing Maxim with her, That they that cannot make Sport, shou'd spoil none. She has Learnt so much Philosophy as to know that the Moon is a dark-Body, which makes her like it much better then the Sun, being more Suitable for her Business: Besides she's still changing Quarters, now Waxing and then Waining, like her: Sometimes i'th' Full, and flush'd with store of Customers; and at another time i'th' Wane, and beating Hemp in Bridewel. She has been formerly a Pretender to Musick, which makes her such a great Practitioner in Pick-Song, but She is most expert at a Horn-Pipe. She understands Means a little, but Trebles very well, and is her self a perfect Base. Tho' she lives after the Flesh, yet all is Fish that comes to her Net: For she is such a cunning Angler, that she don't fear getting her Living by Hook or by Crook. She has Baits ready for all Fish, and seldom fails to catch some: Of a Countrey-Gentleman she makes a Cods-head; and of a rich Citizens Son a Gudgeon; a Swordsman in Scarlet, she takes for Lobster; and a severe Justice of Peace, she looks on as a Crab: Her Poor Customers, are like Sprats, and Pilchards, who are more considerable for their number than they are for their Value; whilst the Punk is her Salt Eel, and the Pander her Shark and her Swordfish. Her Charity is very great, for she Entertains all Comers, and not only finds 'em Beds, but Bed-fellows too, of that Sex which shall be most agreeable to them; Which is a Conveniency a man may go to twenty Honest-Houses and not Meet with. She brings more Wicked Wretches to Repentance than many a good Preacher; for, let 'em be as stubborn as they will, yet she'll leave them such a Twinging Remembrance in their Joynts, that their very Bones shall ake, but she'll make them repent that e'er they had to do with her. And to some Notorious Wretches, she'll fix such a visible Mark in their Faces, as shall make 'em the Derision and the Loathing of all People; and so bring 'em to Repentance with a Pox to 'em. Yet she has very little Conscience, for she makes nothing of Selling One Commodity to Twenty Customers: And for all she cheats them at that rate, she don't fear loosing their Custom. She's often broke, and as often sets up again; which She does without any great charge; for three strong Water-Bottles, Two ounces of Tobacco, and a Couple of Countrey Wenches, is as much as will set her up at any Time. Her Breath stinks worse than a Bear-garden, her Furniture consists of a Bed, a Plaister-Box and a Looking Glass: and a Pimp to bring in Customers. She sits continually at a Rack Rent, especially if her Landlord bears office in the Parish, because he may screen her from the Cart and Bridewel. She hath only this one shew of Temperance, that let any Gentleman send for Ten Pottles of Wine in her House, he shall have but Ten Quarts; and if he want it that way, let him pay for't and take it out in Stew'd flesh. She has an Excellent Art in Transforming Persons, and can easily turn a Sempstress into a Waiting-Gentlewoman: But there is a kind of Infection that attends it, for it brings them to the falling Sickness. The Justices Clerk is her very good Friend, and often makes her Peace with the Justice of Quorum; for which when he makes her a Visit, She always help him to a fresh Bit, which She lets him have upon her Word; and assures him she won't put a Bad Commodity into his Hand. There is nothing daunts her so much as the Approach of Shrove-Tuesday; for she's more afraid of the Mob, than a Debtor of a Serjeant, Or a Bayliff in an Inns of Court. He that hath past under her hath past the Equinoctial; and he that escapes her, has Escap'd a Rock which Thousands have been split upon to their Destruction.

Thus have I briefly represented my Bawd unto the Readers View in her own proper Colours, and set her forth in a true Light. I will therefore thus conclude her Character.

A Bawd is the chief instrument of evil, Tempter to Sin, and Factor for the Devil Whose sly Temptations has undone more Souls Than there are Stars between the Worlds two Poles. She ruines Families to advance her Treasure, And reaps her Profit out of others Pleasure: Pleasures attended with so black a stain, That they at last end in Eternal Pain. Her ways so various are, they're hard to tell, By which she does betray poor Souls to Hell. Smooth is her Tongue, and Subtile are her ways And by false Pleasures to True Pain betrays. The Bane of Virtue, and the Bawd to Vice, Pander to Hell, is this She-Cockatrice. She's like the Devil, seeking every hour Whom she may first Decoy, and then Devour: Let every thinking Mortal then beware, And, that he comes not near her House, take care: For She'll Betray (her fury is so fell) Your Body to the Pox, your Soul to Hell.

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CHAP. II.

Of Pimps and Panders, what they are: with a Dialogue between a Whore, a Pimp, a Pander, an old Bawd, and a Prodigal Spend-Thrift about Preheminence.

In the House of Sin; I mean in a Bawdy House, there are other Instruments of Wickedness besides Bawds and Whores: For tho' the Bawd be the Person that keeps the House, and manages all in cheif, yet there are other Necessary Hangers-on belonging thereunto; and these are called Pimps and Panders, which are indeed a Sort of He-Bawds, and Procurers of Whores for other Men; of which one who is called a Pimp, is cheifly employ'd abroad, both to bring in Customers, and to procure such Wenches as are willing to be made Whores of: And these are a sort of Persons so far degenerated below humanity that they will sometimes procure their own Wives to be Whore for other Men. As an instance whereof, not long since two Men went into a House, to drink, not thinking it to be a Bawdy-House; but as soon as the Beer was brought in, there came in a Female Creature to 'em, who quickly let 'em understand what she was, and also in what sort of House they were got. One of them took her by the Hand, and Began to grow very familiar with her; and found he might have any Kindness from her which he had a mind to, for asking; but the other seeing him ingross the wench to himself, began to Storm, and Knock, and Call, at a strange rate; upon which the man of the House came up presently, and desir'd to know what was the matter? Why you Impudent Rascal, says he, have you but one Whore in the House, that you make me thus stand empty-handed, like a Jack-a-napes, while my Companion's trading with the other? The Pimp seeing the Man in such a Passion, Good Sir, says he be pacify'd, and I'll go down and sent up my own Wife to wait upon ye: Which he did accordingly.—Those that are called Pandars, are in a strict sense such as keep always within doors, and have the management of matters in the House. These, are they that bring the Rogues, and Whores together, and wait upon them whilst they are acting of their filthiness.

These Brethren in iniquity with the rest of the Bawdy-house Crew, were in a hot Dispute about Priority, every one striving to be chief: And what their several Arguments were, I shall next give you an Account of; and afterwards shew you more of their Pranks. The first that stood upon her Pantables, as being chief, was the Whore, and thus it was she manag'd her Cause.

Whore. That I ought to take place of the rest, is what none can without Impudence and great Injustice deny me: For 'tis I that bring in all your Livings, 'tis I that venture my Carcase, nay, that venture my Soul too; and all to get an honest livelihood. Yes Mr. Pimp, for all your sneering, I say an honest livelihood; for I cheat no body, but pay for what I have, and make use of nothing but what's my own, and that no body can hinder me from. And I think 'tis better for me, and less hazardous, to get my living by my Tail, then to turn Thief and steal from other Folks. Besides, I'll suffer nobody to have to do with me, but What I like; nor lie with any but whom I love; I make no Price with any Man; but take what they freely give; and therefore I can't properly be said to be a Whore, for Whores are they that trade for Hire and make Bargains before-hand, which I never do. And therefore seeing I maintain you all, you ought to acknowledge me to be the cheif, and give me the Preheminence; for you all live by the Blood that runs in my Veins; for did not my Beauty invite Men, and my Embraces please 'em, you cou'dn't all of you get water to wash your hands, but wou'd be as poor as so many Church-Mice.

To this the Pimp thus replyed.

Pimp. Your run too fast, Mrs Minx, and are a little too Confident: For tho 'tis my place to attend, yet 'tis I that give a Credit and Reputation to all you do; I walk along the Streets so boldly, and so spruce, and so all-to-be-sented with sweet Powder, cocking my Beaver and looking big, that I make the greatest Gallant I meet give me the Wall, as if I were a Person of Quality; And when any comes hither they are won by my complemental and genteel Discourse; my comely presence brings in many a Guest into the House, besides particular Acquaintance: So that I may well affirm I am the Prop of the House. If I didn't introduce Gentleman into your Company, I wonder what you'd do; you might e'en sit still, and be forc'd to make use of a Dildo, before any Body would come to you if it wan't for me.

This Speech of the Pimp, stirr'd up the Fury of the Pander, who with a great deal of heat made him this Answer.

Pander. Thou prating Cockscomb of a Pimp! Do'st think that I'm an Underling to thee! No I'd have you to know I'm above thee: We'll quickly try which is the most useful. An't I intrusted with all the Gentlemens Secrets; Don't I keep the Door? Nay, been't I the Overseer of all? Sure then I must be the better Man. Besides, I suit the Wenches with such Gallants as are of their own Complexions, and are the best liking to 'em; and in all difficult Cases which happen, they still ask my advice, for giving which, I often get a double Fee. And if I stay at home, 'tis only to make an Ass of thee whilst thou'rt abroad; for where thou get'st one Shilling a Broad, I get Five at Home. If I shou'd go away, I am sure the Custom wou'd quickly drop off; for I am the Person most respected by the Customers, and therefore I think I have the best Title of you all to Preheminence.

Old Mother Damnable the Bawd having stood by all this while, and heard all their Allegations, at last broke forth into a very great Laughter; and after having given vent to her Risible Faculty, made em' this Answer.

Bawd. I can't chuse but laugh to hear the Fools prate about Preheminence: They would all fain be Masters, and yet they know they are but all my Servants; they make their Boast, of this and that, and talk of their great gains: and forget that I rule the Roast, and that both their gains and their very being here, depends upon my Pleasure: Pray Gentlemen, whose House is this? I hope you look upon the House to be mine, and I am sure I bought the Furniture. And yet you talk as if I had nothing to do here; whereas you might all have gone a Begging before now, if I had not took you into my Service. And you, Mrs. Minx because you're a little handsome, you begin to grow Proud and don't consider that if I had'nt prefer'd you to the Station you are in, you must have been a Scullion-Wench, or gone to washing and Scowring: Was'nt it I that bought you those fine Cloths, put you into the Equipage you are in? Alas you were but a meer Novice in sinning till I put you into the way, and taught you. You have forgot how bashful you were at first, and how much ado I had to bring you to let a Gentleman take you by the Tu quoque. And now I have brought you to something, that you can get your own living, you begin to slite me.—And you Mr. Pimp. wa'n't you a pitiful Rogue, till I took you into my Service? Pray who would have regarded you in those Rags I found you in? And now I have put you into a good Garb, and made a man of you, you wou'd fain be my Master, I warrant ye! But I'll take care to hinder that; and if you don't know your self, I do. Nay, there's your Brother Pander too, is e'en as bad, and can't tell when he's well; Because I allow him the vails belonging to his Place, he fancies himself a Master too, and wou'd have all be rul'd by his advice: But I shall make you know there's two words to that Bargain. I think I shou'd know what belongs so such a House better than any of you all. I was brought up to't when I was young: and spent my young days in Love my self; but being disabled by Age and Weakness, I had that Affection for the Trade, that I entertain'd others to carry it on; bringing 'em up to my hand with much care; and therefore surely I must needs have more experience in it than another: and if you won't acknowledge me to be the chief, and Mistress of you all, I'll make you.

The old Bawd having made an End, and put to Silence all the other Boasts, there was a young Prodigal Spark that had wasted a fair Estate in being a Customer to her House, thought he had now a fit opportunity to put her in Mind of his own Merits, and therefore thus began.

Prodigal. I perceive you are all very ambitious of having the Preheminence; but to be plain with you, there's no body deserves it but my self: For talk what you will, it is but prating to no purpose. You know the old Prover, Talk is but Talk, but 'tis Money buys Land; and I am sure 'twas only for Money to supply you withal, that I have sold mine. And therefore when you have all said what you can, what wou'd you all do, if I didn't help you to Money? If I and such as I forsake your House, you may go Hang your selves. 'Tis I that Satisfies the Whore, and pay the Fees of both the Pimp and Pander. And for you, Mrs. Bawd, what'er your layings out are, your comings in are chiefly from my hands; for you have neither House nor Lands to secure you; but 'tis upon my Purse, that you depend; and I am he that keeps you all alive. And since I am at all this cost, it is just that it should be acknowledged, and that you all should own me for your Master. Your own Interest speaks for me, and therefore I need say the less.

The Prodigal having made an end, they all agreed that it was best for them to hang together, since their Interest was all the same: And therefore each of them should keep their several Stations; and acknowledge the Bawd for their Mistress, and the young Spend-Thrift for their Benefactor.

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CHAP. III.

How a Young Woman, by the help of an Old Bawd, Enjoy'd her Lover and Deceiv'd her Husband.

Having already given you the Character of a Bawd, and shown you her Plea for Preheminence in the Art of Wickedness, I now come to shew you by what famous Atcheivements she comes to deserve it. And when you have seen her cunning in Contriving, and her Patience in Suffering; you must readily acknowledge she is one that spares no Pains to be Superlatively Wicked.

In the West of England there lived not long since an Ancient Gentleman to whom Providence had been very propitious, in blessing him with a fair Estate, so that he wanted for no outward Accommodations that might make his Life as happy as he cou'd desire: This Gentleman, being an Old Batchelor, had more Wealth than Wisdom, and Desire to Act, than Ability to perform. For nothing would serve his turn but a Wife; and she must be a Young one too; for tho' he was an Old Man yet he had young Inclinations, and fancies himself as brisk at Three-score and Ten, as when he was but Thirty: You may easiely imagine a Man of his Estate cou'd not be long without several Offers when his mind was known: For Wealth has so many Charms in it, that it often blinds the Eyes of Parents, and makes them mistake their true Interest, with respect to the Disposal of their Children; which consists not so much in being married to Rich Husbands, as to those that are suitable for them. The Beautiful young Daughter of a Decay'd Gentleman was offer'd to this Old Letcher, who being sensible that he could not expect a handsome young Wife with a great Fortune, readily acceps of this, who wanted no Accomplishments to render her a Bride worthy of a better Husband, or at least one more suitable: The young Gentlewoman, was not half so fond of the match as her Parents, who perswaded her to it; and as an Encouragement told her that her old Husband could not live long and when he dy'd, she wou'd have the Advantage of a good Estate to get her a better Husband; and tho she had but few Suitors now, for want of a Portion answerable to her Birth and Beauty, yet when the Case was so alter'd, she cou'd not be long without very advantagious offers: These Reasons prevail'd with the young Gentlewoman to accept of the Old Cuff for a Husband; and they were married accordingly.

But as I have already said, the Old Gentleman had more Desire than Ability; and the young Lady was fain to accept of his good Wishes instead of that due Benevolence which she had reason to expect from a Husband; the want of which made her too soon repent of what she found was now too late to help.

There unhappily happen'd to be not far from their House an Old Bawd that had been us'd to lend her Charitable Assistance to distressed Ladies in such Cases; who having observ'd the late Languishing of the young Lady, rightly judged it proceeded from the Disappointment she met with from her Old Husband; this Embolden'd the old Bawd to take a convenient time to make her a Visit; and by such subtile Discourses as she us'd she soon found out the true Cause of the young Gentlewoman's Discontent; upon which the Bawd discourses her in this manner:

Madam

I hope you will excuse the Boldness I take to speak to you, which nothing cou'd have extorted from me, but the Compassion I have for you, to see so much Blooming Youth and Beauty cast away upon one that knows not how to make use of it; I am sensible that one of your Years and Gaity, can't meet with a greater Affliction than to be thus under a Notion of being Married, depriv'd of the true ends of Marriage: 'Tis like being married without a Husband, to be married to such a Husband as can do nothing. You know Madam, we are commanded to increase and multiply: But let the Soyl be fruitful as it will, there's no encrease can be expected where no Seed is sown. This, Madam, makes me bold to tell you, that you are wanting to your self, and to the end of your Creation, if you don't find out ways to supply that defect and disability, which through Extremity of Age your Husband labours under. I am acquainted, with a Gentleman, brisk, young and airy, One that's in the Flower of his Youth; That I am surely would gladly sacrifice himself and all he has to serve a Lady in your Circumstances; and I have that compassion for your Suffering that I would gladly lend my helping hand to bring so good a work as that about, that you might reap that Satisfaction which your Youth and Beauty calls for, and which your Husband is too impotent to give you.

The Bawd having made an end of her Harangue, the Gentlewoman told her she was much oblig'd to her for that sense she had of her Condition, which she acknowledg'd to be what she represented it: But told her she durst not make use of the Remedy, she had propounded, First, because it was Sinful, and Secondly because it was very hazardous; for her Husband being sensible of his own Imbecility, was so extreamly Jealous, tho she had never given him any Cause, it would render all attempts of that Nature very difficult to manage; and it would be much better to desist from attempting it, than to Miscarry in the Attempts.

The cunning Bawd observing that tho the young Gentlewoman had mention'd the Sinfulness of what she had propounded to her, yet she did not so much insist upon that, as on the hazard and difficulty of attempting it; which gave her so much Encouragement of Succeeding, that she told her, as to the Sinfulness of it, considering her Circumstances, she could not think it was any; for if she could have had the due benevolence from her Husband which he ought to give her, she would not have sought it elsewhere: And therefore if it was at all a Sin, it was a venial one, which might be easily forgiven: But as to the last, that it is hazardous and difficult because of your Husbands Jealousie, this is indeed chiefly to be considered; for Old men that can do nothing themselves, are the most Jealous least others should supply their Places: and yet notwithstanding all his Jealousie, leave but the management of that Affair to me, and tho, he had the Eyes of Argus, we'll deceive him.

The Young Woman was soon perswaded to what she had before a Mind to. And therefore gives up herself intirely to the Conduct of this Old Bawd: Who told her she would acquaint the Gentleman that had so great a Passion for her; that he was not unacceptable to her, and order him to pass by the door, to and fro, several times the next day, that so she might see him out of her Chamber-Window, after which Interview, they wou'd concert the measures that were to be taken, in order to their coming together. This being agreed upon, the old Bawd took her leave of the young Lady for that Time; and goes to a Spark with whom she was in Fee, and told him what a prize she had procured for him, and order'd him to Equip himself to the best advantage, and walk to and fro before the Window at such a time, when he should see her.

The Gallant was presently fired at the News; and resolved to omit nothing that might contribute to the Ladies satisfaction on his part: And therefore Finifies himself to such a degree, that no Beau in Town could exceed him, and walked upon the Parade according to the time appointed: The Lady on her part observing the time as exactly, in being at the Window; and all those Amorous Salutations past between them, which the distance of the Place would admit; both of them wishing with Equal desire, for an opportunity to quench their mutual Flames.

But this Interview was not so privately carried on, but it was perceived by the Old Gentleman, whose restless Jealousie kept him perpetually waking: He saw from the Chamber-Window where he was, the frequent Perambulation of the Amorous Gallant, and how he cast an Eye, as he passed by at his Ladies Window: This made the old Gentleman to apprehend there must be something more than ordinary in those reiterated Walks of the young Gallant; which gave the old Impotent so sensible a Disquiet, that he resolved to know the Bottom of it. And without taking the least Notice of what he had perceiv'd, he seem'd more fond and good humour'd than ordinary towards his Lady; who on the contrary being now full of hopes she shou'd enjoy another that wou'd meet her Flames with equal Vigor, carry'd her self towards him with such a strange indifference as did but more confirm her Husband in his Jealousie: Who the next day inform'd his Lady that the Day following he must go out of Town about some Business he had in the Countrey, which wou'd necessitate his Absence from her for some Time; but told her that she must not take it ill, for he would hasten his Return with all the Expedition that his Business wou'd permit him.

He cou'd not have said any thing to's Wife that wou'd have pleas'd her better, and 'twas with some uneasiness that she conceal'd her Joy from being taken Notice of: However, that she might the better hide it, she told him she shou'd think each day a year till his return, and then she kist him with so much seeming Passion, that she was like to have spoil'd all, and had almost perswaded the old Gentleman to lay aside the thoughts of his pretended Journey.

The young Lady took care to acquaint the Bawd with these Good Tidings, who was very well pleas'd therewith: and promis'd to give notice to her Inamorato, who was equally pleas'd with the expectation he had of his near-approaching Felicity. And thus far things went according to their hearts desire.

The Day being come of the Old Gentlemans Departure, he got up very Early in the Morning and with all the (seemingly) most endeared Carresses on both sides, he took leave of his Lady. And having rid a Mile or two out of Town, to a Friend and Confident of his, he there left his Horses and Servants, and in the Evening return'd privately to his own House.

The Old Bawd having had word sent her by the Lady that her Husband was gone out of Town, acquaints the Gallant therewith and orders him in the Evening to be ready by such a time, and that he should Walk to and fro, before the Door, till such a time as he should be call'd in: Which he promis'd faithfully to do, and was at his Post accordingly.

The Lady had made all things ready for the Entertaining her Gallant; a Splendid Banquet being provided for him before he went to his Amorous Engagement; and being just ready to call him in, her Husband (who had been concealed near the House for some time, and seen the suspected Gallant walk to and fro in the Street,) suddenly enters the House, and finding such a Banquet ready prepared, no longer doubted but it was to entertain him; and therefore hastily calls for his Wife, and asks her the meaning of those Preparations, and who that Banquet was design'd for? The young Lady, surpriz'd and confounded at her Husbands unexpected Return, was at a Loss what to answer him; but plucking up her Spirits as well as she could, told him that she was resolv'd to surprize him, as well as he was to surprize her; for being inform'd that he had chang'd his mind, and was returning home, thinking to surprize her, she intended by that banquet to surprize him at his Return. This answer of hers, as plausible as it seem'd, he was sure was altogether False; and therefore taking her by the Shoulder, he with a stern and angry Countenance said, No, thou Disloyal Strumpet: it is not such a poor Excuse as this shall serve thy Turn; I am not to be deceiv'd; I saw that Lustful Leacher walking at the Door for whom this Banquet was prepar'd; and had I but been Arm'd, I would have given him another sort of Entertainment than that which you design'd him; But since your Lust's so hot, I'll see if I can't cure it; and with that he dragg'd her out of doors, and stripp'd her Naked, and so led her into a Pond he had within his Yard; and there he ty'd her fast unto a Post which was plac'd in the midst of it; telling her that by to morrow-morning he hop'd she wou'd be something cooler; whilst she in vain protests her Innocency, and intreats him to release her. And having left her in this cold Condition, Locks up his Servants in their Chambers, and taking all the Keys into his own Possession, he repairs to Bed.

Her Spark in the mean time, weary with so long walking before the Door, and wondring that he wan't admitted, repairs to the old Bawd to know the reason of it; She was as much concern'd at it as he; but having had a Key from the young lady, by which she might at any time come in at the back-Door, desir'd him to stay there, whilst she went to the House to see what was the matter: And having open'd the back Gate which led into the Court where the Pond was, she straight saw the Lady in the Pond, in the same Station as her Husband left her; And coming towards her, with a low voice, enquired into the cause of her Calamity.

O (said the Lady to her) you have ruin'd me for ever, your Cursed Counsel has undone me; your Eyes are Witnesses to what disgrace and misery it has already expos'd me; And what the end will be, I know not. Why, said the Bawd, you have not seen your Gallant, without you had some other than he which I design'd to help you to.—No, no, reply'd the Lady, I had prepar'd for his Reception; and just as I was ready to have call'd him in, my Husband came, and unexpectedly surpris'd me. And seeing the Banquet I had made, grew into such a rage, that he has dealt with me thus barbarously—Well, said the Bawd, if this be all, take Courage; you shall be even with him still, and if you'll but be ruled by me, the Jealous Dotard shall be made a Cuckold before to morrow-morning: Your Spark is at my House waiting for my Return. I'll take your place, and you shall put my Cloaths on, and go meet him there, and take your fill of Loves Enjoyments, and then return again to me.

The young Lady, who was extreamly troubled at her late Disappointment, and her Husbands cruel Usage, and perceiveing that these things was feizable, she took the offer'd Counsel; and the Old Bawd having soon stript herself, and releas'd the young Lady, took her place in the Pond, whilst she went forth to the Bawds Apartment, and there met with her Gallant, who at first by her Garb took her for the Bawd, but was well pleas'd to find himself mistaken: And being told how matters stood, they made use of their time; and esteem'd themselves much beholden to the Bawd, by whose contrivance they thus come together; whilst she did greater Pennance, and under-went more Pain to procure their Pleasure, then they were then aware of: For the old Gentleman not being Satisfied in that Revenge he had taken on his Wife, for her making him a Cuckold; resolved to punish her farther, and so rises out of his Bed, and goes down to the side of the Pond; and there calls her a thousand Whores and Strumpets; Did not I (says he) take you in a manner without a Smock to your Arse, and desired no Portion with you, on purpose that you might be a dutiful and kind Wife, and maintain'd you as well as any Lady in the Land? And is this the requital that you make me, you impudent Strumpet? Tell me, who was it that advis'd you to this wickedness? The Old Bawd to whom all this was spoken (tho' he thought it had been to his Wife) durst not reply one word; and resolv'd, whatever he said, she wou'd not answer him; which so much enrag'd him, that he said, What! Am I not worth an Answer then? I'll make you an Example to all Whores that abuse their Husbands; and then pulling his Knife out of Pocket, he comes to her, and cuts off her Nose, and flings it in her Face; Now, Strumpet says he, take that for your Whoring, and present it to your Gallant: And having said that, he left her, and went up to his Bed, Leaving the old Bawd in a miserable condition. But it was not long after, that the Lady having satiated herself with her Gallant, & taken her leave of him, return'd to the Pond, to relieve the Poor Bawd, Who told her what had happen'd since her Departure: At which the Lady was more disturb'd than even the Bawd her self; and was once thinking of running quite away from her bloody Husband: But the Bawd being a cunning old Jade, documents her thus: 'Tis true, says she, it has fallen out very unhappily for me; but since that is now too late to help, I must make me a mends: But nothing could have fallen out more happily for you, if you will follow my direction; which is, That as soon as I am gone, you Complain in a low Voice of the Cruelty of your Husband in abusing and wronging his Chaste and Innocent Wife, in so shameful a manner, as the cutting of your Nose, & defacing your Beauty: And then Pray to all the Blessed Saints above that are Protectors of Chastity, that they wou'd miraculously restore your Nose and Beauty again; and soon after, break out into Thanksgivings for having your Nose restored; and this will pass for a Miracle, and so Vindicate your Innocency that you will never more be suspected. And I hope you will make me amends for what I have suffer'd for you. This the young Lady faithfully promis'd; and so the Bawd went home to provide for her own Cure, leaving the Lady fast ty'd as she was at first by her Husband.

The Bawd was no sooner gone, and the Coast clear, but the Lady, fetching a great sigh, breaks forth into this doleful Lamentation,—O unhappy Woman! unhappy above all Women! Unhappy in having without cause lost the Love of a Husband in whom I had plac'd all my Happiness! Unhappy in having my Reputation taken away by him, and Unhappy in being us'd more barbarously and Ignominiously by him, than if I were a Common Whore! To have my Nose thus cut off, and my Beauty defac'd, and all this without Cause; what can be more barbarously Cruel in him, or render me more miserable! But O ye Heavenly Powers, (added she in a higher Tone, that her Husband might hear her, which he also did) if such Powers there be, that are the Protectors of Chastity, and Vindicators of Innocence, Look down on me, whose Innocence you know, and hear my Prayers; If I have deviated from the strictest Rules of Vertue and of Honour, and Violated in the least the marriage Bond that I have enter'd into; let all your Direful Vengeance fall upon me. But if I have kept my Chastity inviolate, and never wrong'd my Husbands Bed so much as in a thought, let my Disfigur'd Face be healed again, and my lost Beauty and dismembered Nose, which has been taken from me so unjustly, be both restored again, as a convincing Testimony of my Innocency.

Having ended her Prayer, she stood silent for about half a Quarter of an Hour; and then, as tho' her Nose had been miraculously reunited to her Face again, she with a loud Voice broke forth into these Expressions: O ye Immortal Powers that knew my spotless and Immaculate (tho Suffering) Chastity, and have so eminently now rewarded it, accept my Hearty and my Humble Thanks: For by this Miracle that you have wrought for me, my Husband surely will believe my Innocency; and I am glad I shall be able at the Expence of so much blood, and so much Pain and Misery, to let him know how much he has wrong'd me, and how much I love him: Yes, O ye Powers above, that have so wonderfully clear'd my Innocency, I do appeal to you how much I love him, notwithstanding all his Cruelty; for which, O ye Immortal Powers, I humbly invocate your gracious Pardon, because he did it through an Excess of Rage, to one whom he Imagin'd had been false.—And then raising her Voice much higher, she call'd out to her Husband, saying. Come down, my Dearest Love, and see and be convinc'd how much you've wronged your Chaste and Loyal Wife.

The old Gentleman, that lay awake in his Bed and had hear'd all this, knew not what to think of it: He was sure he had cut off her Nose, and flung it at her Face, but had not faith enough to think it was set on again; and therefore thought it was some Trick to be releas'd: However, since she call'd to him to see and be convinc'd, he was resolv'd to know the Truth of it, and therefore rising up, and lighting of a Candle, he came down stairs and went straight to his Wife, and looking on her very earnestly, he sees her Face was whole and sound; at which he was so much confounded and amaz'd, that he began to fear lest Heaven, that had shew'd such a miracle in healing her, shou'd pour its Vengeance down upon his Head, for his detested rashness and his barbarous Cruelty; and therefore sets her loose immediately, and presently conveying her to Bed, O thou that art all Goodness and all Innocence (said the transported Cuckold) can'st thou forgive one that has wronged thee at that rate that I have done? Yes, my dear Husband (answer'd the cunning Whore) Since Heaven has heard my Prayer and clear'd my Innocence, I forgive all the World, but thee especially. And thereupon her Husband made a solemn Protestation, That he wou'd never more be Jealous of his Wife, let her do what she would.

Thus you see how by the Cunning Contrivance of an Old Bawd, a young Lady was made a Whore, and an old Dotard a young Cuckold. And also how she can manage all events to the carrying on of her Pernicious Design; answering the Character the Wise-man gives of her, Her ways are moveable that thou canst not know 'em.

* * * * *

CHAP. IV.

How a Married Man, drawn in by a Bawd, kept a Whore, to the Ruine of himself and Family.

We have seen in the last chapter how our Bawd drew in a young Married Woman to deceive her Husband, and wrong the Marriage-Bed: And in this Chapter you shall see how she draws in a Married Man to follow Whoring, so the Ruine of himself, a vertuous Wife, and all his Family: For if she can but Rise, she cares not who she Ruines.—But to the Story.

An Impudent Whore, of our Bawds own bringing up, that by removing to several Quarters, had made a shift to escape Bridewel, which she merited as much as any that ever came thither, had through the Bawds assistance, drawn in one Foolish Fellow, by her Rich Robes, fair face, and fine Words, to maintain her like a Lady; tho' she was but the Daughter of a sorry Informer: Pride and Pleasure were the two Idols she ador'd; and to enjoy them, she cared not how she exposed her poor Cully; who was oblig'd to be liberal to the Bawd for Procuration, as well as to the Whore for Fornication: Till at last her Pride and Pleasure had brought him to Pain and Poverty. Neglecting of his Business, and Maintaining of his Miss, had made him run in Debt, and he began to be so haunted by Bailiffs and Sergeants, that he was forc'd to fly into the Low-Countries to secure himself; Chusing rather to trust to his Heels than his Hands. His Wench was glad she was so rid of him; for being become Poor, and not able to supply her with Money, she was grown quite a weary of him; but not of her way of Living; For as soon as he was gone, she repairs again to the Old Bawd; and acquainted her how matters stood with her. She has made the most of one, and now she must have another: Well, says the Bawd, Do but carry your self, reserv'd and Maidenly, and I have a Spark that has a good Estate, and will be able to spend high upon you; but he must have a Maid, and that I have taught you well enough how to Counterfeit:—Is he a married Man or single, says the Trull?—A married Man, replies the Bawd, but that's nothing as long as he has Money: It were better indeed, that he were single, for then I cou'd draw him in to marry you; and he might make a good Cover; but don't fear but we'll do well enough as 'tis.—Only besure you carry it shy at first, and that's the way to draw him in, and make him the more Eager.—Let me alone for that, says the Whore; do you but bring us together, and then leave it to me to make him bite: I warrant you I'll manage him, or else say I am the veriest Whore in all the Town.—Which she might have safely ventur'd to do, without being Guilty of Lying.

The Plot being thus laid, Mother Damnable goes out upon the scent, and finds the Whore-hunter she wanted; and then tells him, that she had been at great charge and expence to find out a Lass fit for his Purpose, But, says she, tis such a one, That for Beauty, Birth and Breeding, is hardly to be matched in London: She is indeed somewhat Coy, but I will help to Court her for you: I protest I could have had Ten Guineas of Sir R—— P—— if I would have helpt him to her: But I hate to be worse than my Word; I promised you before, that when I could light of one fit for your Turn, I would help you to her—Mr. Graceless, over-joyed at this News, and to shew himself grateful to the old Bawd, presents her with a Guinea, before he saw his Miss—Who being hereby incouraged, soon brings them together; and at first sight he's mightily taken with her. But she seems very Coy, and wou'd hardly let him salute her; Upon which the Bawd tells her, he's a very worthy Gentleman, and one that deserves her Love. What Love can I expect (replies the cunning Jade) from one that has a Wife already? As soon as he has got what he desires, and taken from me, what's now my only Boast my Maiden-head, my Honour and his Love will both be lost together: and then I shall have nothing left me but too late Repentance. This so effectually wrought upon him, That he made all the Protestations in the World, Nothing shou'd ever part em, if she'd but condescend to accept of him for a Gallant: For tho he had a Wife, 'twas one he cou'd not love, and didn't care for her; whereas he saw those Charms in her, that would constrain him to be always constant. And that if she would promise to be as true to him as she shou'd always find him true to her, it wou'd be all the happiness he'd ask.—And now, to make the Bargain firm, the Bawd engages for both Parties, that they shall each be true to one another. And then after a costly and expensive Match they went to Bed together; where she (instructed by the Bawd) carried her self so cunningly that her besoted Lover thought her as good a Maid as when she was but just come to her Teens.—And that they might the better keep company without discovery, she must pass under the Notion of his Sister, and he of her Brother.

And now she wheedles him with so much pretended Love, that she can have what she will of him: and finding he was flush of Money and had a good Estate, she won't be satisfied without her Countrey-House, which was provided for her accordingly, facing the River-side at Hamersmith; and adorn'd with rich Furniture. And when her Paramour cou'd not come to her, by reason of Business, she then sent to the Bawd, who provided her a Stallion to supply his place, which she paid for doing her Drudgery, with his Money. And yet when he came to see her, she wou'd wipe her mouth as if nothing had been the matter, and cry, why does my Sweeting stay so long away? You don't care for me now! I sigh night after night, and day after day, for want of your Company, but you've a Wife that you love better than you do me; and indeed I told you so at first, and then you told me you'd love me best, and I was so simple as to believe you: But if you had lov'd me best, you wou'd'nt have staid away from me so long, that you wou'd'nt; I am sure if I could have come to you, I woud'nt have staid from you so long. And then she falls a weeping; which so much moves the amorous Cocks-comb, that he falls a kissing her, and giving her all the good Words that can be; cursing his Wife, and calling her all to nought; and telling his Miss that he loves none but her. Having thus brought him to her Bow, she kisses him again, and then says, Well, Honey, if you do love me indeed, I'll be Friends with you, but let me see what you have brought me? Then if he have brought her store of Yellow Boys, she's very well pleas'd with him; but if his Money happen to be short, then she'll be out of humour; 'Tis a sign how you love me, indeed, to stay away so long and then bring me nothing! Here's all the Ladies round about can have new things, but I; and you don't care how I go! Then to put her in a good humour, be promises her a new Satin Gown; but this won't serve her turn neither, she wants jewels and Diamond Rings to answer her other Apparel: And to procure these, he's fain to run on the Score both with the Mercer and Goldsmith—By this means in a little time his Estate comes to be wasted, and his Friends come about him, and advise him to leave off these wicked Courses, which else will end in the Ruine both of Soul and Body: They tell him that he has a fair and vertous Wife of his own, by whom he has had several pretty Children, and therefore wonder how he can be so besotted with a filthy Whore. But when all this prevail'd not, his Wife seeing a wicked Strumpet without cause prefer'd before her, taking a fit opportunity, acquainted her Husband with her grief, and his own dangerous Estate, in this manner:

My dear Husband!

Had I ever given you any just occasion to withdraw your affections from me, you might have had a fairer Plea before Men, for doing what you do; tho' even that wou'd have been no Excuse at the Tribunal of God, whom you principally offend by your present wicked Life. But your own Conscience will tell you, if you dare ask it the Question, that it has been the Business of my whole Life, since I have been married to you, to carry my self towards you as a loving and a vertuous Wife ought to do to her Husband; and have done all that lay in my Power to contribute to your Satisfaction. I have never made your House uneasie to you, by any unbecoming Words or Carriage; nor what occasion so ever you have given me, have I been either Clamorous, or a Brawler. 'Tis true my Heart is almost broke with Grief; and who can blame me? When I see your affection so Estranged from me, your Estate wasted, and my self and Children ready to go a Begging, whilst an impudent Quean is at your Cost maintain'd in her Silks and Sattins; and which is worse than all the rest, your own Soul, in danger of Eternal Ruine. And if this Affects you not, remember your own Reputation in the World: You have lived in Credit and Repute among your Neighbours: and will you Sacrifice that, and Entail Shame and Dishonour upon your Self and Family, for gratifying the Lusts of a filthy and Lascivious Strumpet? If you go on in this Course, you must Morgage your Lands to pay your Debts; and what a shame will that be? Your Father left you an Estate, but you are like to leave an Heir that will have nothing to inherit; and so will be an Heir only in Name. Think, O my Husband, what a Reflection it will be upon you, when Men shall say, Your Father left you an Estate to live upon, but you have spent it upon Whores, and left your Children Beggars. This was your Fathers House, but you have sold it to maintain your Miss. Consider the Reproach that this will bring upon your Children: You brought 'em up like Gentlemen, and then betray'd 'em to Want and Beggery. Have you forgot the Vow you made when we were Married? You promis'd then to take none but my self: Yet now you let a Harlot take away your Love from me, that am your faithful and your loving Wife; and might have been by you Esteem'd so still, if this Lewd Woman had not made strife between us: You promis'd at your Marriage that none but Death should seperate us. And as my self has never broke that promise, so you have never had from me any occasion given you to do it: And I am ready still to embrace you in my Arms, with all the tenderest Affections of a loving Wife. O let me beg of you, that you wou'd hearken to my sorrowful Complaint, pity my Tears, and suffer not your Family to perish, but bear a Fathers Heart towards these, that are the Children of your Body. Or if you'll pity neither me nor your poor Children, pity your self: for you will suffer most in the Conclusion: You cannot think that you please God in living as you do: Can you take Comfort (think you) in remembering that you have ruin'd both your self and Family, by keeping of a Whore, when you shall lie upon your Dying Bed, and your poor Soul is just taking of its flight into Eternity? How will that Sentence terifie your Conscience, Whoremongers and Adulterers God will judge? Then you will wish (but wishing then, my Dear, will be in vain) that you had never given ear to that Enchanting Syren, that for a few false Joys and momentary Pleasures, betray'd your Soul to Everlasting Misery. But if you will be Deaf to my complaints, and not regard the Ruine of your Children, nor pity your own Soul: Tho I am sure my Grief will bring me to my Grave. I shall be Satisfied in this, that I have done what ever lay within my Power to save you from the Ruin and Destruction to which I see you hastening. And when she had said this, she seconded her Words with Tears, and fell a weeping till she cou'd weep no more.

Yet all this would not molifie her unrelenting Husband, nor work any change upon him; for he regarded neither what she said, nor the sorrowful moans and complaints of her almost Famished Infants: For all she gets for her affectionate Counsel and Advice, is to be sometimes rail'd at, and at other times jeer'd and flouted.

Soon after he goes to his Drab again, and to her he repeats what his Wife had said to him: which so far had rais'd her Choler, that she gives it vent in such Language as this:

What has she fed upon nothing but Crabbs of late, that she is grown so sowr! She now begins to prate it seems! 'Tis time to bring her down: A stinking dirty Slut, to rail at me! And you to stand by, like a Fool, and let her! I am afraid she's too full fed; that makes her be so malapert; but had but I the ordering of her, I vow to gad I'd quickly make her pinch for't. She shou'd be glad to get a piece of Bread: And that it self's too good for her, I wonder how she had the Impudence to prate to you: But she knows well enough she has a Tender-hearted Fool to deal withal; she must advise ye! Marry gap indeed! Tis more then time she did! I see she wants to be the Head! Or else she'd never Tutor you about your heir! 'Tis very fine advice methinks she gives you! She'd have you want your self to hoard for him! But sure you will be more Wise. E'en put him to a Trade; and let him Work. He is big enough, and then pack out the rest. I'd make the Jade fret in her grease for something: Pray how comes she to know what passes between you and I? She has Money enough it seems to hire her private Spies to find our meeting out: She serves you right enough: Well, be a Fool, and let her rail on still; And shew thy self a poor kind-hearted Ass! I'll warrant ye, you fell upon your knees, and begg'd her Pardon, because you kept my Company; and Promis'd that you'd never do so no more! This 'tis to have to do with one that has a Wife! I told you first of all what I shou'd find: An ugly Jade, to call me filthy Strumpet! Had I been by, I'd soon have made her smart for't! Any but such a Hen-peck'd Fool as you, that had but heard her say so, wou'd straight have given her such a dash o'th' Chops as shou'd have beat her Teeth into her Throat, and quickly spoil'd her Prating. But I am plagu'd with one that dares not speak a Word to vindicate me. If you are a weary of me, tell me so; for I can quickly mend me self, if you'll but say the Word: And if you will prefer your wrinkled Wife before my Youth and Beauty, with all my heart, for I'm resolv'd I'll never lead this Life! To be abus'd by an old Withered Hag! I have no patience when I think of it: A dirty homely Joan! For my part, I admire how thou coud'st love her: She frets, I'll warrant you, because she lies alone: But who that is not Mad, wou'd lie with such a sapless piece of wither'd Flesh as she, when he may lie by such a one as I, that's sweet, and fresh, plump, brisk and airy, and that's full of Juice, just in the Bloom of all my Youth and Beauty. But if to this thou still prefer'st thy Dowd; take her for me, and much-good-do-thee with her.

By this Discourse, this Impudent and filthy Trull, quite sham'd him out of any thoughts of Vertue; and therefore that he might the better please her, he replies,

My dear, Thou canst not sure think me so mad as to regard her foolish Idle prate, or to leave thee for twenty such as she is. No, never think I have so little Wit, I gave her such a Reprimand as soon as she had spoke, that cool'd her Courage in an instant: for I let her know her Tittle-Tattle would be all in vain; and that I was resolv'd I would be absolute. Shall I be ty'd by such a one as she? No, Love, I scorn it. And for her Tongue, let me alone to tame it: Winter is coming on and then I'll make her keep her breath to warm her hands; for she shall have from me no other firing. Let her rail on, and see what she can get by't; whilst thee and I delight our selves in Pleasures; I'll be no Slave to that which I possess: Come, thou art mine, and shalt have what thou wilt; my Love to thee is more then to my Heir: shall I live sparing for a Brood of Bratts, that for my Means wish me in my Grave! No, I know better things: I will my self enjoy it while I live, for when I'm gone, the World is gone with me: Thou hast my heart, my Dear, and I'll not leave thee; tho' she shou'd Chat until her Tongue be weary. I'll find another way to make her quiet; or she shall have but very small Allowance: She tells me, Grief will kill her very shortly: I wish it wou'd, I shou'dn't grutch the Charges of giving her a Coffin and a Grave.

I (says the Coaxing Jilt) I like you now. Do as you say, and then I'll warrant you, you'll quickly make the Flirt submit her self: And win my heart for ever.

Thus they continu'd Revelling and Spending, whilst his poor Wife went with a hungry Belly, and her small Children almost wanted Bread; which with the grief she took to see her Husband unreclaimable cast her into a fit of Sickness; which in a few days brought her to her Grave, to the great Grief of her poor Children and her Neighbours, who all Lamented her: But to the great Joy of her Scotish Husband and the Graceless Quean that he maintain'd, who now thought all their own, and that they might Sin on without Controul. But tho his Vertuous Wife wanted an Elegy, she shall not want an Epitaph:

HER EPITAPH.

Here lies the poor Remains of a good Wife, Who through an unkind Husband lost her life: Tho' she was vertuous, yet he kept her poor; And spent his Substance on a filthy Whore. Whilst she in vain of him implor'd Relief, She sunk beneath a weighty Load of Grief: Which Death perceiving, prov'd her kindest Friend, And lent his Aid to bring her to her End: Which if her Husband does not now lament, He shall (when 'tis too late) at last Repent. And tho' he revels now without controul, Yet she shall Sing, when 'tis his turn to howl.

This Good-Woman's Death, was very welcome to her unkind Husband, who had now no Body to controul him in his wicked Courses; but the Bawd the Whore and himself had a merry Meeting the next day after she was buried; and being well flushed with Wine, the Jilt thus began to Triumph:

Whore. Well now, my Dear, we shall be all at ease; and I am rid of them that hated me: For my Part I am resolv'd to mourn in Sack; for now I need not fear her Spies that us'd to be still harkening at the Door; that I cou'd hardly let a Fart, but it was carryed to her straight by one or other. Now she can hear us talk no more unless her Ghost walks, and I'll venture that; Come, Drink to me, my Dear, I'll pledge it, tho 'twere o'er her Grave: My Chuck! Thou'rt the best Friend I have: For all her spite, I always found thee constant: And what I had was still at thy command, and Day nor Night I ne'er refus'd thee all the Pleasures I could give thee. And I am sure study'd to delight thee all I cou'd, and so did never thy black Joan, thou knowst.

Now thou art mine, come take a Thousand Kisses, There's none that now can keep us from our Blisses,

Prodigal. My Love, thou know'st I have been always true to thee, and so will ever be; and I'll say that for thee, thou never deny'dst me yet to kiss and feel, when I'd a Mind to't. And I am glad to find thee art so witty: But thou art nothing but Charms; methinks I see the Lilly and the Rose (as heretofore they did 'twixt York and Lancaster) are once again contending in thy Cheeks; and thy Eyes sparkle like two Diamonds; Come, let me now embrace thee in my Arms; nay never fear, here's none that will disturb us—for she that us'd to make us both so cautious is now laid low enough, & will disturb us here no more, I hope.

Then come, my Dear, let Pleasure now delight us: Th' old Hag is gone, & will no more affright-us.

Bawd. Why now it is as't shou'd be: Such a brisk Wench as this is, makes young Blood boyl within your Veins again. Then what shou'd hinder you from the enjoying of each other. For my part, tho' I'm past it, I love the Sport still, and take pleasure in seeing others do it: And therefore while you take a Touch together, I'll drink your Healths in good Canary here. I am glad to see that you are both so brisk, and meet each other with such equal Flames; it does me good methinks to see the Trade go forward: Nay, I be'nt so much past it neither, but I could serve a man upon occasion, and take a Touch or two as well as one that's younger; for I know what belongs to't pretty well.—Well Master, I am sure you have found what I Promis'd you, when I first brought you two together: I must likewise own that I have tasted of your Bounty: And therefore cannot but rejoyce that you are thus deliver'd from that Old Witch that kept you from enjoying of your Pleasures with that delight and freedom as you may do now.

Thus did these wicked Wretches Triumph over the Ashes of a vertuous Woman; and made a Cully of the Poor Prodigal her Husband: From whom they now commanded what they pleas'd: And for a time went on so; for as long as he could find 'em Money, all was well; but when he had Morgag'd his Estate twice over, and had spent all his Money, that he could help 'em to no more, the case was so far alter'd that he was then refus'd to be admited into their Company. For tho before he was her Chuck and Dear, and she wou'd never forsake him; yet when his Money was all gone, she took new Lodgings at the other End of the Town, where he cou'd never find her. And when he went to see the Bawd, that she might tell him where she was, she had forsaken her old Quarters to, and he no more knew where to find her then he did his Trull. His Children were took care of by his Wife's Relations, or else they must have gone a begging. Whilst he being threatned with a Goal for Mortgaging his Lands twice over, was fain to Skulk about, and to play least in sight: Thus he that but a while ago profusely spent his Money on a Whore, was now reduc'd to that condition that he wanted Bread: Whilst both the Bawd and Whore which he had wasted all upon, forsook him without so much as minding what became of him; but left him poor and penniless, to seek his Bread where he could get it. And thus deserted by the Whore, and hated by all honest People, and haunted by a guilty self-accusing Conscience, he became a Burthen to himself: Cursing the Day in which he harkned to the Bawd's Insinuations, by whose means he was thus drawn in, to ruine both himself and all his Family: And being almost starv'd for want of Sustenance, o'er-come with Grief and black Despair, he dy'd.

HIS EPITAPH.

Here lies a Man who would not Warning take, And now for others may a Warning make: He spent his Substance upon Bawds and Whores, Destroy'd his Wife, turn'd's Children out of Doors. And yet when all was spent, and he grown Poor, He was forsaken both by Bawd and Whore. Let all henceforth of Bawds and Whores beware, By whom he was betray'd to black Despair.

_Thus Reader, by this Story thou may'st see_ _How by Lewd Women Men deluded be:_ _The _Bawd's_ the Setter, and the Shameless _Whore_ _Sucks him so dry, she quickly makes him Poor._ _First of his Wit, then of his Wealth bereaves him;_ _And when she has got all she can, she leaves him._ _Then let all Mankind loath this filthy Jade,_ _Since Ruin and Destruction is her Trade._

* * * * *

CHAP. V.

How an Irish-Footman was drawn into a Bawdy-House and what followed.

It happen'd not long since that a Dear Joy for his Dexterity in running, was entertain'd into the Service of an English-Gentleman, who had put him into a good new Livery; and his Master having occasion to send him for a pair of Shooes he had bespoke, gave him five Shillings to pay for them; which a Bawd happening to see, and over-hear, thought presently she might bring in Teague for a Customer; and therefore as soon as he had parted with his Master, she catches hold of him, as he came by her door & told him that a Countrey-man of his was within, and had a great Mind to drink one Pot of Ale with him; A Country Mons of mine, says the Shamrogshire Nimble Heels! Now Pox tauk you but me tank you for your Loof, and be me Shoul, so mush baust as I been, I shall mauk Drink upon my Country-Mons; for fait and trot now dear Joy, Eirish Mons never been base; and so in a doors he comes; and the Bawd has him into a Room presently, and tells him she'll go call his Country-man; but instead of his Country-man, sends in a Whore to him; who at her coming, thus accosted him, Country-man I am very glad to see you; I have got a Pot of Ale at your Service for St. Patrick's sake; and the old Bawd having brought in a Pot, the Wench takes it up, Here, says she, here's a good health to St. Patrick: Wid all mine heart, said the Teague-Lander, & Pox tauk me as I no mauk Pledge upon him; and thereupon pledg'd her, & drank a good draught; and then the Jade beginning to be sweet upon him, he was so well pleas'd, that he forgot his Errant; and fell a kissing her; upon which she ask'd him to go up stairs, to which he readily consented: and there she let him take all the Liberty he had a Mind to; for which to recompence her, the Bog-trotter gave her Six-pence.—But when he came down, the Bawd ask'd him how he lik'd his Country-Woman, and whether she had pleas'd him? Fait and Trot now, dear Joy, says he, I have made very good like upon her; the Devil confound-ye, but she's a foin Lass and a Cuttin-down-lass: And I have maud pay a whole half Shilling for her Business; and so he was a going out of door; but the Bawd Pulling him by the Coat, Hold Sir, says she, Do you think I can keep Wenches at this rate? Bridget, says she, what did this man do, and what did he give you? He did what he wou'd, answer'd the Whore; he danc'd the Corranto's two or three times; and might have done it oftner if he wou'd: But he gave me but Sixpence: How Wench, says the old Bawd, but Sixpence! Why who shall pay the rest? I thought Sir you wou'd have been more open-handed, I sell no Coranto's at such rates. Five Shillings is the lowest Price I take of any; and that you are like to give me before you and I part; and so shut the Door upon him. Poor Teague found he was in a bad condition; and was glad to part with his Money, that he might get out of her Clutches. And instead of carrying home his Masters Shoes, he was forc'd to tell his Master he had gotten a Misfortune, and some Rogue or other had made pick upon his pocket: but his Master not being Satisfied with that account, examin'd into the matter more narrowly, and at last found out the whole Truth; and striping the Dear Joy of his new Livery, turn'd him out of his Service, that he might have the more leisure to make another Visit to his Country-woman. But alas! He had no need to Visit her again, for she had done his Business already, having so pepper'd him with the Pox, that in a little time he was neither able to go nor stand. And not having Money to pay for his Cure, he perish'd for want of that assistance that others, who are better furnished, can purchase.

Thus still the Bawd drives on her Trade of Sin; By whom unthinking Fools are often drawn in Her Feet are Snares, infectious is her Breath; The Pox her Punishment, her end is Death.

* * * * *

CHAP. VI.

Of a Ladies Steward that was drawn in by a Bawd, and turn'd out into the Street naked.

A Bawd of the better sort, that us'd to provide Jilts for Men of figure, had appointed a Person of Quality whom she was to furnish with a fresh Bit, to meet her at a certain Tavern near West-Smithfield; and waiting there for him, it happen'd that there came into the next Room a Country Gentleman, who was a Steward to a Lady of a good Estate, and another Gentleman who liv'd in London, and was to pay him fifty Guineas, which he also did. After he had paid his Money, and the Steward had given him a Receipt, they drank a Glass of Wine together, and talk'd of their Acquaintance in the Country; and then the Steward ask'd how such and such Persons did in London, and the Gentleman answer'd him accordingly: Among others the Gentleman ask'd him if he did'nt know Mrs. Pierpoint? I did know her formerly, said the Steward; but 'tis so long since I saw her, that I have now quite forgot her: She's grown ancient, says the Gentleman, but she has a Daughter that is a very fine Woman: Is she married says the Steward? No, says the Gentleman, but she deserves a good Husband, for she's very Handsome; and not only so, but she has a good Portion. After this Discourse, the Gentleman takes a Glass, Come Mr. Brightwell said he, to the Steward, here's a good Health to Mrs. Pierpoint and her Daughter Mrs. Betty; withal my heart replied Mr. Brightwel, (for that was the Steward's Name) and then he drank to the Gentleman, remembring all their Friends in Bedfordshire, especially at Hargrave. All these Passages the Bawd, who waited for one to come to her, in the next Room, heard distinctly, and took especial Notice of them; determining in herself to make some use of them: For she had a very great mind to be fingering of the fifty Guineas, and was laying a Plot how to come at them. And since the Man of Quality that was to meet her fail'd, she was resolv'd not to spend her time altogether idly. And therefore having Paid for the Pint of Wine she had call'd for, she attended the two Gentlemens motion; and finding they were ready to go (she having taken a distinct view of them thro' a hole in the wall) went out first herself, and waited in a convenient place for their coming out, which was soon after. When they were parted, one going towards Long Lane, and the other through St. Bartholomews Hospital, the Bawd made it her Business to wait upon the Ladies Steward, who had the Fifty Guinea's (which was the Prize she aim'd at) she takes an opportunity of getting before him, and then meeting him in Long-Lane: And just as she came at him, making a stand, I think, Sir, said she to him I shou'd know you: If I been't mistaken, your'e a Bedfordshire Man: I am so, Madam, says the Steward: Then Sir, says she, I presume your Name's Brightwell. Yes, Madam, said he, it is so; but I don't know you: No, Sir, says she, I believe you have forgot me; but my Name's Pierpoint: Brightwel hearing her say so, was a little surpriz'd, and started: How Madam, said he, Pierpoint! Yes Sir, says she, you han't forgot Pierpoint of Hargrave, I suppose; I have some small Estate there still: Madam says he, I am very glad to see you; It is not an hour ago since I was Drinking your Health: I hope your good Daughter's very well: She's very well at your Service, Sir, replyed the old Crone; and I hope, Sir, you'l do me the honour to go and see her: I'll wait upon you another time, Madam, said he, but I an't in a condition to wait upon a young Lady now; O you are very well, reply'd she; come, you shall go along with me; and taking him by the Hand, leads him along with her: The Steward was the more willing to go, upon the account of what the Gentleman had said to him at the Tavern about Mrs. Pierpoint and her Daughter, and so went with her the more easily.

As they went along together, she ask'd him about several Persons in the Country, which she had hear the Gentleman and he talk of; So that he had no manner of doubt but that this was the very Person she pretended to be. And among other things, she ask'd him who it was that he was drinking her Health with to day, as he was talking; and he telling her it was one Mr. Hanwel she presently describ'd his Person, which she had seen at the Tavern with him. At last she brings him to her house, which was in an Alley on the back-side of St. Jones's Lane, and has him into a Parlour very well furnished; and then tells him She'll go and fetch her Daughter: And goes to one of her first-rate Girls, and having given her her Lesson, has her into the Steward, who Complements her to a great degree, and told her he had heard a very good Character to her, both as to her Beauty and Parts; but that he found they came far short of what she merited; & added, that he thought himself very happy in Meeting with her Mother, because by that means he had the Honour of being introduc'd into her good Company.—The Jilt knew whom She was to personate, and carry'd herself is demurely as cou'd be; but both the Bawd and She ply'd him with good store of Wine, which made the Steward very merry and frollicksome, and according as Mrs. Betty found him, She put her self forward. But it beginning to grow late, Brightnel would have been gone, but the pretended Mrs. Pierpoint would by no means suffer him to go, till he had supp'd, which was a getting ready on Purpose for him, by which means he was drawn to to stay till supper was ready; and to make the time seem less tedious, the old Bawd calls for a Pack of Cards, and sets her pretended Daughter and he to play a Game of Cribbage together. At last Supper was brought in, and her Servants waiting upon them at Table, like a Person of Quality; Mrs. Pierpoint every now and then Drinking a Health, sometimes to Mr. Hanwel, and by and by to all their Friends at Hargrave; then to his good Health, which engag'd him to drink theirs: Till Supper being ended, the Bawd ask'd one of her Servants what a Clock it was? Who answered, Past Eleven: The Gentleman at this begins to get up, to be going; but it was now too late, and they would by no means let him at that time of Night; to which end they urg'd that it was an obscure place they liv'd in, and it might be very dangerous (tho his greatest danger was in being there) and that he shou'd have a good Bed at his Service there: The Gentleman finding himself almost fluster'd, and thinking he was secure where he was, agreed to stay till the next Morning: Upon which the t'other Bottle of Wine was brought in, & then he began to be very frollicksome, and would needs be Kissing Miss Betty, who pretended a great kindness for him; which pleas'd Brightwel so much, that he wou'd'nt go to Bed without she'd lie with him; which she not only promis'd, but was as good as her word; yet engages him to take no notice of it to her Mother, and then as soon as he was a Bed, she'd come to him: Accordingly, after he was a Bed, she comes to Bed to him, as she before had promis'd: And after they had both gratify'd their wanton desires, the Whore professing a great deal of Love to him, and pretending she shou'd never be happy till they were married, Miss Betty all of a sudden pretends to want the Chamber-pot, which she desir'd him to help her to, who feeling about for it for sometime, cou'd'nt find it; upon which she told him she remember'd the Maid left it in the Window and desir'd him to reach it there; which he going to do, and treading upon a Trap door, it presently gave away; and down fell our Amorous Spark into the Alley; his Fall was but little, and so did but stun him for the present, and his being only in his Shirt quickly made him sensible of the cold; As soon as he came to himself he got up, and it being very dark, he knew neither where he was, nor which way to go; but endeavouring to find a door, he went on till he came to Clerken well-green; where seeing a Light at the Watch-house, he went thither; a Person all in white being seen by one of the Watch-men, he gave notice of it to the Constable; who with his whole Watch was very much affrighted, and began to exorcise this supposed Spirit; who being almost dead with cold, (for it was cold frosty Weather) told them he was no Ghost, but Flesh and Blood as they were; but Mr. Constable was loth to believe him upon his own Word, and therefore commanding him to stand, sent one of the most Couragious of his Watch-men to see whether it was so or no; who having found him to be what he said, he was taken into the Watch house, and put to the Fire, and examined how he came into that condition; who gave the Constable an account how he met with one Mrs Pierpoint his Country-woman, by whom he was invited to her House, and what befell him there, related: But neither Constable nor any of the Watch-men knowing any such Person, they supposed rightly that he had been drawn in by a Bawd, and had lain with a Whore, who had together Cheated him of what he had. For by a Ring on his Finger, and the Gold Buttons on his Shirt, which was all he carried off, they supposed his other Rigging was suitable thereto; which made Mr. Constable so kind as to lend him his Night-gown, to cover his Nakedness. And likewise to offer him his assistance, to recover his Losses; but being in the dark he was altogether a Stranger to the Place, that he could give 'em no manner of Directions, so that it was but like seeking a Needle in a Bottle of Hay. However they went and search'd several of the most notorious reputed Bawdy-Houses, but found nothing, and had only their Labour for their Pains: Whilst the Bawd and the Whore triumph'd in their wickedness, and were glad they had met with so easy a Cully, from whom they had obtain'd so good a Booty.

In the Morning our reduc'd Gallant sent a Messenger to Mr. Hanwell to come to him, and related to him the unhappy Rencounter he had met with from Mrs. Pierpoint; who soon perceived how he had been impos'd upon; and furnish'd him with more money to new Rig himself, and supply his occasions, ere he durst appear before his Lady; Mr. Hanwel promising him, when he was at leisure, he wou'd have him to the true Mrs. Pierpoint, from whom he engag'd he shou'd meet with better entertainment than he did from the Counterfeit one.

Thus still the Bawd does her old Game pursue; Her End's the same, altho' her Method's New. Her Baits are various, which she still does suit To ruin those that love forbidden Fruit. And by her Management of things we find, She's one knows how to Sail with every Wind.

* * * * *

CHAP. VII.

How a Citizen went to a Bawdy-House for a Whore, and the Bawd helpt him to his own Wife.

A Certain Citizen in London, in the late times had a very fine Woman to his Wife; and had but her Vertue been equal to her Wit and Beauty, she might have deserved the first rank among Women: But Lust had so great an Ascendant in her, that her Husband was unable to Satisfie her over strong desires to the Delights of Venus: And therefore having Communicated her Thoughts to an Old Bawd that kept a House of Private Entertainment for the Accommodation of Persons of Quality of both Sexes, she told her that for a Guinea in hand to her, and two Guinea's for the drawing of her Picture, she might be enter'd into her Accedamy; whereby (says the Bawd) you may both receive the Satisfaction you want, and gain Money likewise; for the first Charge is all you will be put to, which will be but three Guinea's, and Ten Shillings to the Attendants, who by the Services they will do you, will very well deserve it: Then she enquir'd of the Bawd what the Custom of the House were, and how she must manage herself in that Affair? And then she cou'd the better tell her whether she cou'd order Matters so as to comport therewith.

To this, the Bawd return'd this Answer:

I have as genteel a House as most in London, with several Chambers very well furnish'd for accomodation of Gentlemen and Ladies: and a Looking-glass in each Chamber so conveniently plac'd, that those who have a mind to't, may see what they do: For some take as much delight in seeing as in doing: My House goes under the Notion of being Let out in Lodgings, and every Gentlewoman than is enter'd, has her Picture drawn, which hangs up in the Dining Room; where when Gentlemen come, they chuse which Person they please by the Picture; and for a Guinea paid to me, they are admitted to her, with whom they make what Bargain they can agree upon. And by this means we are sure that none but Persons of Quality can be admitted: and the Ladies Honours are thereby secur'd.

But for ought I perceive (said the Citizen's Wife) here is constant Attendance requir'd, to be in the way; or else how shall a Gentleman do, that chooses the Picture of a Person that en't there? As to that replied the Bawd, the more any Gentlewoman is there, so much the better 'tis; and so much the more Money they get; but those that can't attend always, have their certain hours; and if a Gentleman has a Fancy to such a one, when he knows her hour, he will come accordingly.—Now you your self can best judge what hour will be fittest for you—That I am at a Loss how to resolve, says she.—Tell me how you spend your time, all Day, says the Bawd and then I'll tell you what you shall do—Why, says she, many times I rise at five a Clock in the Morning, and having got my self drest by Six a Clock, I go to the Lecture at St. Antholines, which is done a little before Eight, and then I return home; and at Ten—Hold, says the Bawd, you need say no more; There's nothing in the World blinds a Man like a pretence of Devotion; and therefore if you can get out at Six a Clock to go to the Lecture, 'tis the only time you can take; and by that time the Lecture's done, you may be at home again: Nor need you stand much upon Dressing; for if you come in a Loose Morning-Gown, you're the fitter for Business. She lik'd the Bawd's contrivance very well, and accordingly paid her Entrance Money, and Deposited two Guinea's for the Drawing of her Picture. And in the mean time went constantly to the Lecture every Morning: Which her Husband was very well pleas'd at. But her being of late more constant at the Lecture than she us'd to be, caus'd some suspicion in her Husband, who rising one morning (which happened to be the Day before her Picture was ready,) he follow'd her unseen, to know whither she went to the Lecture or no; and she going directly thither, and staying there all the time; her Husband had a mighty Opinion of the Devotion and Piety of his Spouse: And began to blame himself for having entertain'd an ill thought of her.

All things being now ready at the Old Bawds, and her Picture done to the Life, so great was her Beauty, that she wanted no Customers, each Person that came generally made Choice of her to do the Trick with; Whereby she not only satisfied her Lustful Desires, but was supplied with Money likewise, without robing of her Husband of his Coin, tho' she wrong'd him more nearly another way: Which he not knowing, nor believing, thought himself as happy in her, as any Man in London was in a Wife: So true is that Proverb, Than What the Eye sees not, the Heart rues not.

But there were other Citizens Wives that were as full of Leachery as this, tho' not so handsome: And they found Trading very sensibly Decay, since this Fair Sinner was enter'd into the Colledge. And she by her Beauty having Monopoliz'd the Topping Customers to herself, was look'd upon with an Envious Eye by all the rest, Who consulting together, found it was absolutely necessary to give her a remove, but how to do it, was the Question: At last one of 'em told the rest it shou'd be her Province; and she wou'd do it effectually, so she as shou'd never know who hurt her: Upon which, without asking her the means, they left the matter intirely to her.

The Jilt, to whom the Business was left was very Witty, but had but just Beauty enough to keep her from being Ugly, and consequently one that suffer'd most by this new Interloper; which rendered her so Malicious, that she had rather the whole House shou'd be blown up, than that Upstart shoul'd run away with all the Trading: And therefore she Writes the following Letter to her Husband.

To Mr. R——d S——n, These:

SIR,

Tho' I never was ambitious of the Honnour of being an Informer, yet the Sense I have of the Wrongs you suffer from a Wife that abuses your good Nature, and under a Pretence of Devotion prostitutes her Chastity, to every libidinous Stallion, thereby breaking her Marriage Vow, and Dishonouring the Marriage-Bed; has prevail'd with me to let you know so much. And tho' an Information of this kind may perhaps hardly be believed; Yet if you will but give your self the Trouble of following her Incognito any Morning, you may easily satisfy your self, whether the Account I have given you be true or no: And the better to enable you to detect her in her Lewd Practices, when you have seen her Hous'd a little while, you may go in after her; altho' without a Particular Recommendation, you will hardly be admitted; and therefore if you please to ask for the Gentlewoman of the House, and tell her you was directed thither by Tom Stanhop, to take a Survey of the Ladies in the Dining-Room, she will straight let you see 'em; and after that, you may proceed as you please; and can no longer doubt of the Truth of what I say, if you will but believe your own Eyes. And if you find it so, I am sure you will be satisfied that I have performed the Office of,

Your unknown Friend,

A.B.

This Letter she sent by a special Messenger, with order to deliver it only into his own hand, which was done accordingly. But, when he had read it, he was so extreamly surpriz'd at such an unexpected piece of Intelligence, that he new not what to think of it: Sometimes he was of opinion that it was only an Artifice of some that envy'd his Happiness in so Vertuous a Wife, to sow Dissention between 'em; but when he was reffer'd to so easie a Trial, he cou'd not but think there was something more in it then so: Upon which he resolv'd to suspend his Judgment till he had made a farther Trial. And therefore that afternoon, pretends to have Receive'd a Letter obliging him to meet a Gentleman the next Morning between Four and Five a Clock at Westminster to treat with him about a parcel of Goods which he was to go and see, and should not be back again till nine a Clock. And in the mean time get's him a very Beauish Suit, Wig, and Hat, and plants 'em at a Friends House; ready to put on in the Morning when he came thither. The next Morning rises very early, pursuant to his Design; and having gone to his Friends House, and accouter'd himself in his new Habilments, which had so disguis'd him, that even his Friend had much ado to perswade himself 'twas the same Man. In this Garb, about six a Clock, he calls for a Glass of Purl at an Ale-House, within sight of his own Door, waiting till his Wife came out; who as soon as he had seen past by, he pays for his Glass of Purl, and follows her: And she going towards St. Antholin's Church, he began to think she had been abus'd, and he impos'd upon; but he was quickly convinc'd to the contrary, when he saw her go by the Church, and cross over the way to the Back-side of St. Thomas Apostles, and there go into a House: After she was gone in, he staid about half a quater of an hour, and then according to the Directions of his Letter, he went in himself, and ask'd far the Gentlewoman of the House; at which the Old Bawd appearing, Are you the Gentlewoman of the House, Madam, said he? Yes, Sir, says she, for want of a better I am: Pray what wou'd you have with me? Why, Madam, says he, I want a certain sort of a Fleshly Convenience, and I am inform'd you can help me to one. At which the Bawd look'd a little strangely upon him; I help you to one, Sir, said she? I hope, you don't take me for a Bawd; if you do, I assure you, you are come to the wrong House; And I'd have ye to know, Sir, I'm another sort of Person. Madam, replyed he, if I have offended you, I beg your Pardon; but I was directed hither by Tom Stanhop, to take a Survey of the Ladies in the Dining-Room. As soon as the Bawd heard him say so, she began to look more pleasingly upon him, and desir'd him to walk up Stairs, and according to his desire had him into the Dining-Room, where he soon espyed his Wives Picture, drawn to the Life. And making Choice of that, Pray, Madam, says he, what must I give you for the Enjoyment of this Lady? for she pleases my Eye better than any of the rest? Why truly, Sir, (says she) I have a Guinea for any of 'em; but there's another Gentleman has promis'd to Visit that Lady this Morning, and I wonder he isn't come yet; but because I expect him every Minute, I cann't recommend any one to her this Morning. Is he with her now, says he? No, Sir, says she, but I don't know how soon he may be: Nay, Madam, said he, you ought to observe the same Rule here, as in a Barber's-Shop, First come, first serv'd: Come here's a Guinea and a half for you: This wrought so effectually upon the Bawd, that he was immediately conducted to the Chamber where his Wife was. And Counterfeiting his Voice as much as he cou'd, Madam, says he, Invited by your Shadow, which I saw below, I am now come to be made happy with the Enjoyment of the Substance. To which she answer'd (not knowing 'twas her Husband,) Sir, you are very welcome to all the Pleasure I can give you:—What must the Purchase be of so much happiness, reply'd he to her? To which, she straight return'd, I am no Mercenary Person, Sir; nor do I make a Bargain with any one before-hand; but take what Gentlemen are freely pleas'd to give me; to whose Generosity I always leave it: But what you do, do quickly Sir, (continued she) for I am limited to such an hour. Upon which invitation, the Disguis'd Beau fell to, sans further Ceremony, And whilst they were a Dancing and Acting the delights of Venus, the Bells of St. Antholins Rung very sweetly, which made her say, whilst she was thus incountring her suppos'd Gallant, O how sweetiy St. Antholin's Bells Ring! Which she Repeated over as oft as they renew'd their Pleasures.—As soon as they had finish'd their Encounter, her Husband that he might appear like what he Personated, seem'd well Satisfied and made her a Present of a Guinea; and so withdrew without Discovery. And she, a short time after, St. Ant'lin's Lecture being done, according to her Custom return'd home, as if she'd only been at her Devotions.