THE LADIES LOSSE AT THE ADVENTURES OF FIVE HOURS: OR, THE Shifting of the Vaile.

Printed in the year 166 [...].

The Ladies Loss, &c.

YE Females that Do at Adventures
For hours five (or less, as't Enters)
And sometimes chance to shift the Vaile,
Not onely of the Head, but Taile;
Come listen, for it may concern ye,
How Mulier formosa Superne
Desinit. In Janivere,
Where some were not, though many were
All in the Fields of Lincolns Inn,
The Folk beginning to Begin,
For Poet (hight the Lord knows what)
Had made a Play of this and that;
Whereto resorted grave and fickle
As Saints did erst to Conventicle:
Some dressing Heads instead of Vailes,
With Periwiggs; and some the Tailes,
As it appear'd; by foul mischance,
When Lady trim'd ith' Mode of France,
Drop'd Utensils from 'twixt her legs,
(No matter whether Malls or Peggs)
A pretty kind of fashion, that-
For Girles to Periwig a Twat!
'Tis sign (perhaps) it keeps good orders,
When 'tis confin'd within the Borders.
How came the custom with the pocks,
Puts Member Privy under locks,
And nat Italian? What mishap
Occasion could this After-clap?
Was it, O Mother Gibbs, thy care
To fit the Lady to a hair,
And fasten Ware upon thy word,
That leaves her Ware like Tayle of Bird;
To every Stage-wright made a scoff,
Like Coot, with Periwigg stript off.
'Twixt Madams Legs (as sung the Poet)
But 'twas so lately done, all know it.
But do not (Muse) thus fondly raile
On the nice- Trimmer of the Taile;
Perhaps her Art was not in fault,
Securing every slight assault;
Presuming, Wight, would come to hand,
Like a Dutch Cow, or Wench well man'd,
And not endanger (as it chances)
Both Member and Appurtenances,
To the rude hands of Blade so rough,
That mistakes Merkin for a Muff,
And carries all off with a vengeance,
Then rubs away (as erst did S t. Johns)
And never minds for to restore,
Or leave behind, what's lost before.
Oh Varlet vile! who with fierce handing
Hast done more mischief (notwithstanding)
Then Wallace with his Tool so stayward,
Can make amends for, though like Bayard
He ne're so stifly could stand to't,
This gain that loss could ne're recruit:
For (as an Author sayes) her Mounsieur
Coming that night with thoughts to trounce her,
And finding his Tatterdemalian
As b [...]ld as Huswife clip'd Italian,
Who in her Infancy with unction,
Is so un-hair'd for future function,
That after Oyles and Labours expence,
A Barber there shall ne're earn six pence.
He thus rebuk't her, — Be gar Madam,
Me think your Ladyship have had 'um:
The case is alter'd since I foutred;
Your Cunny is not well accoutred:
Undress'd below the Busk you be,
Some honest Lad from Muscovy
Will you present with fur of Rat
To furnish out your Twit-cum-twat;
A Pox upon this filthy Paltry
Commodity, that snodes like Palfrey:
And though at first he was full fervent,
Kiss'd hand, and cry'd, Your humble Servant:
And Lady sad for work oth' day,
Did lose her Night-work as they say.
So fared it with Absolon,
Who found a Beard, expecting none.
When Gossip (to his great amazement)
Turn'd Tayle for Smeller, out of Cazement,
Womanaging so cleaverly,
That Nab kist Tout full savorly,
And started back, like Horse cryes Wy-hee
At Female-Beard, to hear her Ty [...]hee.
But let's return, (what e're it cost)
In quest of what our Lady lost:
Some call it one thing, some another:
But, while the Learned make a pother,
And, in sundry Disputes are,
Wee'l term it Muff for Lady-ware;
Though it be neither Budge nor Miniver,
Worn in the dayes of good Queen Guinever:
The Sisterhood in Bloomsbury,
Have other name to call it by;
But hold not fit that every Lunges
Should understand it, more then Spunges,
Which for a special Friend, or so,
They will produce; but if not, no.
Had this befell in time oth' Rump,
'That struck them into such a dump,
That (Stage-men all) who ever gav't ye,
Before Committee-men of Safety
Had been led captive, where he should
Shew whence it came, and whither 't would:
For they would soon have spent their Verdict,
And made a Law, none should interdict.
(If Harry Martins lucky wit
Had not by chance discover'd it.)
First, to secure all that were
Confederates with this Enginere,
Who (as presum'd) had found a trick
To Beard the Body-Politick:
Next that a Privy-search be made
Throughout the City, though the Trade
Seem rather Forreign then Domestick,
(As being intricate and mystick:
Besides, the Hogow, or the stench
Was (some say) Spanish, some say French)
Last, that the Author should be sent
To suffer condign punishment.
A Presbyter (for sometimes they
Will shuffle in to see a Play)
Listning with open mouth, as wide
As are in length of's Ears; the Hide
By chance espy'd in clutch of Player
(Who much admir'd the twirle oth' hair)
This pretty Muff for Lady-ware;
Who, as he nicely did it handle,
Upheaving Spectacle to candle,
Quoth he, This is some Popish shred,
Or shaving of some Fryer's head;
A piece of Nuns work, fastned on
The English Whore of Babylon,
Sent hither by the Lord knows whom,
No more then does the Pope of Rome.
An invention, 'twill move your laughter,
For us to run a whoring after.
So down he threw't, and fled from thence,
And troth I have not seen him since;
And (sooth to sayn) as matters go,
I care not wh're I do or no.
But Lady gay, who dropp'd the Muff,
It seems did know him well enough,
And having (as she thought) a claw
Against this Gospel-Wright at Law,
As having seen Commodity,
Last in his hands (though odd it be)
Unto her Lawyer did complain,
Who told her that her case was plain,
And Wright should render, or hee'd make him,
And where she found her goods, to take 'em.
But Presbyter having good witness,
That Stager's wife had try'd its fitnesse,
After it was from his hands given,
(Intending with her to be even)
Remov'd the cause with certiorari,
Where (as I hear) 'tis like to tarry.
But one thinks 'twould have done as well,
By petty Herauld with a Bell:
O yes!
If any one of what account
Soever in the Town or Count—
ry, Have ta'ne up an Instrument
Which Women use for Ornament
To set forth Member that is private
(As the main thing that people drive at)
Wherewith being drest, the naked Fubs
Looks not unlike the Ace of Clubs,
Or as the Song sayes that is told
By Fidler touching Marygold,
Which if it chance to slip, or so,
When as the Sign's in Scorpio,
The Mortal that was in conjunction,
Looks somewhat like the Man oth' Moon
That goes off with a bush on's back;
One cannot say — it's Eye is black:
But (as discerning Authors say)
The Ground is black, the Eye is gray,
Befitting Jane as well as Cisley,
Whose special mark is, that 'tis grisley;
Whereby appears (as Damrose Page sed)
Such things are us'd amongst the aged.
But be she either Wife or Virgin,
Or Widow, 'tis not worth the urging:
Did you but know, you'ld not deny her,
Who ever brings it to the Cryer,
Shall have for's pains in coming home,
The pleasure to cover and come.
'Till when the thousandth Maiden-head.
Is to be let unfurnished.
FINIS.

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