THE CHARACTER OF A Town-Miss.

A Miss is a new Name, which the Civility of this Age bestows on one, that our unmannerly Ancestors call'd Whore and Strumpet. A certain Help-meet for a Gentleman, instead of a Wife; Serving either fo [...] prevention of the Sin of Marrying, or else as a little Side Pillow; to render the Yoke of Matrimony more easie. She is an excellent Conveniency for those that have more Mony than Wit, to spend their Estates upon; and the most that can be said in her Commendation, Is, that she will infallibly bring a Man to Repentance. Yet you may call her an honest Curtezan, or at least a Common Inclos'd; for though she is an Out-lier, yet she seems to be confined within the Pale, and differs from your ordinary Prostitute, as Whole-sale men from Retailers; one perhaps has an hundred Customers, and to'ther but Two or Three, and yet this gets most by her Trade. Indeed she may well thrive, seeing she always carries her Stock above her, and every man is desirous to deal in her Commodity: For she is a Gallant business, a Citizens Recreation, a Lawyers Estate in Fee-tail; a Young Doctors Necessary Experiment, and a Parsons comfortable importance.

The Royal Preacher calls her a Strange Woman, but we usually term her a Common Woman, and have reason so to do, for sins that were strange in Solomons days, are common in ours. She is a Caterpillar that destroys many a hopeful Young Gentleman in the Blossom, a Land-Syren far more dange­rous than they in the Sea: For he that falls into her hands, runs a three-fold hazard of Shipwracking Soul, Body, and Estate.

She talks high of her Family, and tells a large story how they were Ruin­ed by the late Wars. But the true History of her Life, is generally to this Effect: She is only the Cub of a Bumkin, lickt into a Genteel form by Town-Conversation: Nature gave her a good Face, and an indifferent stock of Confi­dence, Which she by prudent management has improved into Impudence; like a forward Rose bud she openeth betimes, and lost that trifle they call a Mai­den Head, so early, that she cannot remember she over had any such thing. She was scarce thirteen when her Fathers Plow-man, and the Squire their Landlord (the veryer Clown of the two) went Joint Tenants to her Coppy-hold; but proving with Child, she had the wit to lay it to the Last, who for his Credit, dispatcht her Incognito, with a sum of Money on a Carriers Pack, to be disburthen'd at London, the goodliest Forest in England, to shelter a great Belly. There the ban [...]ing was exposed to the Tuition of they Parish in a Handbasket, and the Charitable Midwif [...] (who counts p [...]ocuring in a civil way, a necessary part of her Office) soon brought her acquainted with a third Rate Gentlewoman, who took her a Lodging in a Garret, and allow'd her six Shillings a Week. But making a Sally abroad one Night, pickt up a Drunken Cully, and at a Tavern (whilest he was no less pleasantly imployed) pict his pocket of a Gold VVatch, and some stragling Guinnies, and left him to pawn his Sword and Perriwig for the Reckoning. After this lucky Adventure, she discards Monsieur shabby (her former Customer) and her Lofty Lodging; puts her self in a good Garb, gets a Maid (forgive me, for I Lye, I mean a Shee-servant) whom she teaches to call her Madam, and your Honour, and hires Noble Rooms richly Furnished, about Covent-garden; there she takes State upon her, and practises every day four hours in the Glass, how Greatness will become her. Her first business is to make her self to be taken notice of, to which purpose like Dinah, she walks the Streets; sometimes like Jael, she stands at the Door; and sometimes like Jezabel, she looks out at the Win­dow: But her main Market-place is the Balcony, which she frequents as con­stantly as any Lady in a Romance; and the Language of her Eyes is, VVhat do you lack Sir? By which she at last attracts a, Wealthy Gallant, who with a little Address, obtains the mighty Honour of her Acquaintance; but she seems extream Nice, Reserv'd and Modest, protests she would not go to a Tavern for a World, when the whole business is, she is only afraid of being Pawn'd there. In brief, she Manages him so discreetly, that she Cheats him into Love Insensibly, like a Taylors-Bill, wherein a man sees himself Rookt abominably, yet knows not where to find fault. Having thus got the VVod­cook into the Pit-fall, she resolves to Pluck him: When he importunes her for the Great Kindness, she talks of Honour and Conscience, and vows she will never stain her Reputation but for valuable Considerations: this brings them to Articles, he promises to allow her a Hundred and fifty pounds a Year, and she Swears a thousand dissembling Oaths, how infinitly she loves him, and that she will prove constant, and true to him alone, and never be concern'd with any o­ther man in the World; and the silly Fop is so fatally bewitcht as to believe her; And continues along time in that fools Paradice of Dotage, whilst in the mean time she drives a Trade privately, with two or three more. For the Concealing of which from the first, tis the whole Imploy of the little Harlotry, her Chamber-Maid, to study Lyes, Pretences and Excuses, and she makes them pay her [Page 3]even to Extortion; to quicken her Invention; Sometimes she is gone abroad in her Aunts Coach; Somtimes one of her Cozens, a VVoken Drapers Wife in the City is Sick, and she must Visit her. Not is Madam her self less full of Plot and Intrigue to Bubble her Gallant: Somtimes having pleased him well, she begs the best Ring he has on his finger, or pretends her self to be in Debt; and that unless he will suffer her to be Scandalized with an Arrect, Bound he must be for her) to one of her Confederates you may be sure) for fifty pound, and the everlasting Changling; cannot find in his heart to deny her: At other times she shall purposely give him occasi­on to be Jealous, and when he has Rav'd and Swore, and Curs'd and Ran­ted for two hours, as if he had been possest with a hundred and fifty De­vils, she shall cleaverly wipe off the Suspition, upbraid his Jealous Coxcomb­ship; fall a Sniviling, and call her self the most unfortunate of Women, to love a man with so much Passion, that thus abuses her: Then he submits, begs her Pardon on his Knees, and Coakses her with all imaginable kindness; but still she pouts, looks Sullen, and will not let him have a bit of that same, till he has given her a New Gown, or a Necklace of Pearl, for Atonement, and Reconcilation.

But in time, his Appetite being Cloy'd, his Purse exhausted, or his Eyes enlightned, he begins to withdraw, and she soon finds out another, a verrier Fool than he; but for Security, will not Trade, unless he settle an Annuity of 300 l. a Year on her for Life; which being firmly done by an able Conveyan­cer in Sheep-skins, half as large as the Premises: Within one Moneth she abandons him for a more Noble and Strenuous Gallant. And now being ar­rived at the Zenith of her Glory, she has her Boys in Livery, her House splen­didly furnisht, and scorns to stir abroad without a Coach and six Horses: She glitters in the Boxes at the Play house, and draws all Eyes after her in the Street, to the shame and Confusion of all honest Women, and Encourage­ment of each pretty Girle that loves fine Cloaths, good Chear, and Idleness, to turn Harlot, in Imitation of such a thriving Example.

She takes upon her, more Pride, than would have serv'd six of Queen Elizabeths Countesses; uses Sirrah at every word, and to a Lady of the best Qualtiy, and Old enough to be her Mother: Nothing but— I tell the sweet­heart! She despises her Sister, for loosing her Reputation, by being kept by a meaner Gallant than her own; and gets one to attempt to Steal her, that she may be thought an extraordinary Fortune.

She hath always two necessary Implements about her, a Blackmore, and a lit­tle Dog; for without these, she would be neither Fair nor Sweet: The rest of her Retinue consists of her She-Secretary, that keeps the Box of her Teeth, her Hair, and her Painting. An Old Trot, that understands the Town, and goes between Party and Party, and a French Merchant to supply her with Dildo's; or in default of those, she makes her Gallants Purse maintain two able Stallions (that she loves better than him) for performance of points wherein he is Defective. Her Skin is much Cleerer than her Conscience, which makes her go with her Neck and shoulders Bare; and she has rea­son; for her upper Parts are the shop of Cupid, and those below, his VVare­house: But all that you are like to buy there, is Damnation, and Diseases. [Page 4]She is a very Butcher, that exposes her own Flesh to Sale by the Stone; or if you please, a Cook that is Dressing her self all day with poinant Sauces, to be tasted with the better Appetite at Night. Like a Disabled Frigot, that has received many Shots between Wind and Water, She is forc'd once a year to put in at Tunbridg, or Epsom, to Wash and Tallow, and Refit her Leaky Bot­tom: after which, she Cruises up and down the Town as briskly as ever; till Age spoil her Sayling, and ingraves Wrinkles, where she once Painted Roses: Then her former Adorers despise her, the World hates her, and she becomes a Loathsome thing, too unclean to enter into Heaven; too Diseased to con­tinue long upon Earth; and too foul to be toucht with any thing but a Pen, or a pair of Tongs: And therefore tis time to Leave her; — For, Foh, how she stinks.

FINIS.

LONDON, Printed for Rowland Reynolds in the Strand, 1680.

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