THIS true History of a late famous or infamous Whore, laying open her cunning Contrivances. Intrigues, Cheats, Plots and Projects, either for pleasure or profit, is made publick to no other end then to the Reformation of Vice, which is good mens wishes, and to the advancement of Vertue, which is the aim of all honest affections; so that ma­king my sum just with mine account, I doubt not but I shall discharge my self to Posterity, and by one and the same Act give all encouragement to Chastity, and will not put Modesty to the blush, though I strip the Courtezan out of all her Finery, leaving her nakedly to be ex­posed [Page 2]to the view of all, to the perpetual infamie of debautched Women. They onely are the subjects of my present Dis­course, whom, though I shall severe and roughly handle, yet in their dissection I will neither foul a finger of mine own, nor offend the eye, nor ear of any modest Person. Neither do I herein design any affront to the rest of that lovely loving Sex; those sweet, whom, if beautiful, continent and vertuous, I ever honoured in my thoughts, whilst my saucy arms, in spight of me, would be familiar with their Persons. Mistake me not, I mean not lasciviously, but lawfully; he that otherwise makes use of a Woman, abu­ses himself and her too, and by so doing differs not from a Beast, but in form, ha­ving the same bruitish appetites: Men absolutely blind, and irrational, who having Wives of their own, whose beau­ties might dispute for preheminence with the choicest in a whole City, whose prudence and discretion, by any foolish act, was never call'd in question; whose love to her Children, fidelity to her Hus­band, and spotless honesty, white as In­nocence her self, was a matchless Pattern to all her Neighborhood; yet notwith­standing all these excellencies which are [Page 3]possessed by a brave woman of their own, they must ramble abroad, either inva­ding other mens rights, or hazarding their healths amongst Prostitutes, not regarding much the courseness of the face, so the Crack does but humour him; and because they grow so numerous of late, that they swarm in all places, (some making it a Trade, onely others a Recre­ation) they will not stick to scruple the honesty of the whole female Sex, and are so censorious to all, that they will not swear for the honesty of their own Mo­thers; a Maid cannot be so (they say) af­ter eleven, and will justifie that a Woman will fee her Stallion well at fourscore. These are a sort of Cattel, whom wise men look on as a shame to mankind, for their ingratitude to that Sex which was instru­mental in their Production, and tenderly careful of their Preservation; and yet these Magi, these Misanthropes, whilst they accuse them, are more too blame themselves, not only in lessning the real worth of that charming Piece of excel­lency, called Woman, but by throwing their unjust opprobriums on her, whilst they stand indicted themselves of a thou­sand errors, and unpardonable fopperies; and these are wont to say, (to magnifie [Page 4]their own Prerogative) that Woman is an errour, or imperfection in Nature; o­thers imagine Woman to be born into the VVorld, onely for the exercise of Mans Patience, and trial of his Passions; others, for the affliction of Mankind, the Abridgement of his life, and the Disan­nuller of his Contentment, the Debaser of his Grandeur, the Murdress of his Valour, the decay of Courage, the Ruine of his Advancement, and the Envy of his happiness. She doubles his affli­ctions, captivates his freedom, obstructs all his noble Enterprizes, drowns his for­tune, disquiets his repose, and involves him daily in a thousand inquietudes; Lastly, she is the Rise of most quarrels, and the chief Incendiary of mischief and dissention.

It is incongruous to my present pur­pose, to vindicate them at this time from these aspersions; onely this I shall say, that doubtlesly there are good VVomen in the VVorld, but they are so few, by reason of the spreading Contagion of their vicious inclinations, that thereby some are are induced to believe, that it is onely a supposed goodness, and as imagi­nary as a Circle in the Firmament. Beg­ging pardon for this digression, I shall [Page 5]leave the good and bad promiscuously one amongst the other; onely pick one out of the Flock (a scabbed sheep) whom I shall anatomize, or cut in pieces, for the benefit of such, who will take the pains to read a Lecture on her Carcass.

In Ʋlster in the Kingdom of Ireland, there lived an English Gentleman, whom some misfortunes in his Native Coun­trey, had driven thither to seek some shelter from the injury that did attend him. Here he had not lived long, ere his own industry (improving that little he had) and symmetry of Parts, procu­red him (with a handsom woman) a for­tune not mean, and inconsiderable; she was all Irish; for, her Relations out of a natural antipathy to their Conquerors, would never suffer any of their Family to commix, or Match with any of Eng­lish Extraction; yet such was the Power of Love, that it broke down all oppositi­ons that were rais'd against it; nay, her Religion (which she should have prized above every thing that is sublunary) she slighted for the sake of love, and became a Protestant, because her Husband (so intended) was of that Persuasion.

He was a proper Man, accompanied with many inward excellencies, his hair [Page 6]of a bright flaxen, which colour the Irish love above any; so that such as are not born with that happiness (as they ac­count it, especially the Females) use Art to bring their hair to that Complexion. The Estate he had purchased was not so great that Ambition did assail him, nor so low that Contempt might follow him; but Anchoring in a smooth low Tyde, and a safe Harbour, made himself con­tent with things necessary; not but that his ability might permit a larger ex­pence, but that frugality did counter­mand it. His VVife, as she was suit­able to his quality by birth and educa­tion; so she was agreeable to his love and affection, having comeliness enough to content an honest eye, but skin so white, as most of that Countrey have, onely that it is too often powdered with freckles that it was sufficient to tempt a Carmelite; Cleanliness she had with­al (which is a Jewel in that Countrey rarely to be found,) what might be re­quisite for a chast Bed, or a frugal Table; and discretion at will to govern, and dis­pose all things committed to her Stew­ardship.

That loving Correspondence between them gave them the Production of a [Page 7]Daughter, who was called Cornelia; A Maid, in the time of her Innocence, and Ignorance, so accomplished and accom­modated with all the Ornament of Na­ture, and Education, that she fat surpas­sed all those of her rank, and might with­out the offence of Modesty, challenge equality with those which were ac­counted most excellent, for her eye was a Magazin, or Arsenal of Loves choice Enchantments; her Hair was like her Mothers, the comings of Apoll [...]'s Tresses, which for quantity so Prodigally adorn­ed her head, she could have spared half a dozen Tours, to have supplied the de­ficient heads of some v [...]terane Ladies, without a visible empair to Natures stock b [...]stowed upon her; a modest Cheek she had, rich with bashfulness, and a face to generally cloth'd with beauty, and blushes, that there was an infinite Promise of much vertue: her stature was but low, yet composed with such true symmetry, and so agreeable with every other lineament, through the whole Fabrick of her body, that had A­pelles beheld her, he would have forsworn his Idol to have made her his Goddess. But to leave off all further circumstance, let it suffice me to say she was truly hand­som, [Page 8]exceeding hopeful, and had not the Devil bin too malicious, she might have been exceeding happy: but where the house is cleanest, there Mans Seducer en­deavors to enter soonest; and if the Guard of Vertue be idle, or unwatchful, Repentance may follow, but it cannot prevent surprizal; and thus it fares with this our poor Cornelia; for as Heaven had bestowed upon her all outward em­bellishments to attract Vertue unto her, so had the corruption of her Nature, (whence flow all vicious inclination,) married to those corporeal excellencies such a wicked spirit, that all goodness became an utter stranger, and Modesty became an Exile; in a little time, she grew so haughty, proud and disdainful, so averse and impatient in the encoun­tring any thing that opposed, or with­stood her roving fancy, and beloved co­gitations, that she would yield to no o­ther power but her own, and acknowledg no God, but her own Will and Pleasure: and that which laid the Basis of her fu­ture ruine was, she had from Mens Prai­ses, Womens Envy's, her Glasses plain dealing, or its Flatteries; her Parents tenderness, her Friends carefulness, and her Associates amazedness, got such a [Page 9]true knowledge of her handsomness, that she did not only believe it, and love it, but, lost in self-admiration, beyond ex­pression, doated on it: neither did this foolishness of Philautie, or self-affecti­on, so bind her to the admiration of her own beauty, as a proud, yet not ground­less conceit of the excellency of her Wit, (above the Sphere of other Womens ca­pacities) did bind, and slave her to em­brace to her self this Conclusion, That she onely was excellent. To give her her due, (besides those excellent natural parts she was endued withal) she had acquired a competent knowledge in the Latin, so rhat she could speak it volubly, nay, ele­gantly withal: sure she understood so much Greek too, as to know what was [...]signifies, which may be taken, ei­ther for f [...]emina, or confabulatio, which she understanding as a Woman, she would appropriate the other sense to her self, talking. Surely, one tongue is enough for one Woman, according to the Spa­nish Proverb, De Mula que haze him, y Muger que habla Latin, guarte, take heed of a winching Mule, and a Latin Wo­man. This is true in some sense, where there is not prudence to regulate, and moderate our words and actions; in that [Page 10]cafe one tongue may be too much; but discretion doth not consist so much in speaking few words, as no superfluous, or impertinent ones, which was Cornelia's praise, and her vain-glory, which made her company acceptable to all, whilest that of others, of her neighboring Sex, became insupportable, because they only pratled.

Now she began to grow in hate with her Fathers house, having not that free­dom she proposed to her self, where she removed from the careful vigilancy of a Parents eye; and hereupon cries out on the Countrey as unpleasant, unhabitable, obscure and dirty; that Housewifely Employments were sal [...]ish engagements; to live with Parents is to lie with bond­age; that all Commandmen [...] are Cur­ses, and obedience only a figure of sim­plicity, and ignorance. She would often argue with her Mothers servant (when in private, with whom she might be as bold as she pleased,) after this marmer: What is Beauty, if not seen; what seen, if not ad­mired; what admired, if not desired; and what any, or all, if not enjoyed; and where shall these be gathered? from the blossoms of Trees, from Stones and Mountains, or the over flows of Fountains; or from Lakes, [Page 11]Loughs, Bogs, Woods; or from a rabble of Skullogues; Patrick, Dermot, Mack-de­vil, &c? No, 'tis the City that is the Sphere of Beauty; there are her Temples, there live her Votaries, and there burns her Sacrifice; the Countrey is but a rotten Chest that conceals holy Reliques; let m [...] live in the City, where, if I cannot out-shine all, or at least equal all, yet at worst I shall be hid in a handsom Cabinet.

Upon these and the like resolutions, she threw her self into a deep Melancholy; all meats were but course for her Dyet, and though few Kingdomes in the world have better flesh and fowl than Ireland, with plenty of every thing that is Pallat­able, yet she slighted whatever Nature indulgently provided for her use: Sleep is too near a Kinsman to Death, she hated it: All rurall company seems rude, she loath'd it: all their discourses are un­polisht, her ear would not receive them; and to conclude, as an exanimated Carkass she walk'd with no soul, and but half a Motion. Her Parents quickly perceived this Alteration, and like skilfull Phy­sicians, laboured to find out the cause to make the cure more easie, speedy, and certain: But she thus had a lock'd-up-Soul in a Fort impregnable; what [Page 12]through Disdain (the Hand-Maid of Pride it self, the Lord of stubborn resolu­tion) she became so impenitrable, that sooner might they bring the Poles toge­ther, than separate her from one tittle of her private resolution; so that finding her fixt, they forbore any further in­quiry, onely observ'd all occasions, and all Circumstances, every passage, and e­very action that might give light to those designs, on which she laboured with such Difficulty; at length finding her set one day in a private room (all alone, but so­litude, and her own perplexed thoughts) her Father, stealing within hearing, might hear her utter these words. O Life, which hath deceived so many, sedu­ced so many, blinded so many, thou art no­thing at thy beginning; thy light is nothing but a shadow, thou art but smoke at thy height; thou art sweet to Fools, bitter to the Wise; who loveth thee, knowes thee not; who knoweth thee, contemns thee; And here (with a deep sigh) she made a stop, when her Father pressing upon her, de­manded the cause of this quarrel between her and Life, urging her with much in­gratitude to condemn that, from which her self had received so much Lustre; applying her Beauty, Youth, Wit, and [Page 13]all her inward and outward faculties as unrefellible arguments of infinite obliga­tion to Life, who had brought them into the World, and made them beloved of the World: But she with a silent bash­fulness (fuller of deceit than innocence) forbearing to reply, gave him occasion to assail her with all the strength that Nature, Love, and a Fathers Authority could summon up together, and did so urge her to display, and lay open the Cabinet of her dearest Counsels, that she, unwilling to lose so fair an opportunity, or to appa­rel her envious grief in the garment of O­bedience, with a seeming unwilling wil­lingness did disburden her heart of that grief, which so long had afflicted her: yet not without many Disguises and sub­til fals pretences, as that she was not wea­ry of the Countrey for its solitude; that she was content to live there all her days, but that she had a desire not to be conti­nually a charge or incumbrance to her in­dulgent Parents; that the City was more hopeful for her advancement; because the two Pillars of Posterity, Honourable Marriage, and wealthy imployment, had there a settled residence, and threw a­way their favours blind-fold like the Ghildren of Fortune.

There needed but small deliberation, when both parties did agree upon one proposition: For he seemed to out­strip her in willingness, and as if their thoughts had been cast in one Mould, an equal diligence made a preparation for her speedy departure; the Mothers consent (though her only Darling, for her Daughters good) was not wanting, so that all drawing by one link, without let or hindrance, the VVork was speedily effected and the Daughter was convey­ed to [...] Metrapolis, Dublin; where her Beauty would not let her lie long conceal'd, but introduced her into the service of a Noble Lady, who in a little time loved her so entirely, that she was never satisfied when she was out of her sight and coveted not her service so much as her company; Nor was this Lady to be blamed for her forward love and affection to her servant Cornelia, since she had so many charms irresistable in her feature and behaviour; her carri­age was so winning and agreeable, that not a menial, male or female in the whole house, but was totally at her devotion; the greatness of her Ladies love made her soon change the scene of her Appa­rel, and though it was Gentile enough [Page 15]before, and well befitting her no mean Extraction; yet it was thought too mean forso transcendent a Beauty.

This Lady seldom went any where, but Cornelia attended her, which proved very advantageous to her ad­mired beauty, in making the know­ledge thereof spread universally: and indeed, in a great City very populous, where Men and their Minds (living as it were in a Burse of resort) were continu­ally trucking for new Commodities, it was impossible for this rich Jewel, which was without foyl, should either stand ga­ping for a Chapman, or like an idle Apprentice, blowing his fingers, or hands in his Pockets, cry, What lack you, Sir? This unclouded beauty, like the Sun, gave light to a whole Hemisphere, and so shot her beams through every corner of the City, that her Suitors were like Corisca's smocks, infinite in number, ma­ny in good opinion, and but one at one time in employment; At first with such severity she governed her Passions, which Reason hindred from rising in Rebelli­on, that the strictest eye of Modesty could not find fault with her Govern­ment; it may be she was the rather in­duced to this Austerity, by beholding [Page 16]the Pictures of two famous Curtezans, which hung in her Masters Gallery; the first, which was less fair but more fortu­nate, had in this Inscription, Si non caste tamen caute, if not chastly yet cau­tiously; the other, which was far be­yond all for beauty, and inferiour to none for misery, had written over her, Nec caste nec caute, neither chastity nor caution; On these two plain Songs, her resolution made sundry descants, but the close of every strain was, That to sin wisely, was to sin safely; That af­ter thoughts were foolish, and had-I-wist, childish.

Many assaults were given to this love­ly Fortress; some she withstood, to gain an opinion of goodness, and they were great ones; some she durst not entertain, for fear of after-repent­ance, and they were loose ones; some she held at a distance, waiting for Preferment, and they were rich ones; and some she scorn'd, and they were poor Fops, and frivolous persons. But at last observe, the Devil himself fearing to lose so rich a Prize, which he knew would not come to his Kingdom alone with her own lading, but with the spoils and triumphs of a world of unfortunate crea­tures [Page 17]of both Sexes, he sent to assail her one Ignatius, a fellow whom the Devi [...] had so instructed, and adorned with all deceivable qualities and inchantments of a seeming sanctity and goodness, that Vertue her self could hardly have disco­vered him without the use of her divine and most prying spectacles: he had what ever was excellent in a good promising face, and a well-shaped body, which he made more glorious with gravity, and good clothes without gaudery; he had an excellent smooth wheedling tongue, with a wit prompt and ready, which he witnessed in his Discourses, being full of whatever delight most suitable to the hu­mour of a Woman; and that his pre­tended Piety might not any way detri­ment his lascivious design; he was libe­ral without Prodigality; his deport­ment was such, that he made a Conquest over a world of poor deluded people (e­specially women) maintaining his Ex­checquer; and when the fire of lust was kindled in him by the Devils bel­lows, he was so full of delicate petu­lance, and bewitching dalliance, that a cold half buried Anchorite would have engendred a flame for his embers. This great General or Factor for Hell came [Page 18]with his Legions of Inchantments to be­siege this Redoute, or weak Sconce, even at the time when there was a mutiny rai­sed betwixt her and her best Souldiers; for indeed Modesty was in disgrace, and accused for a Coward; Chastity was scorn'd as a shadow, and no substance; Bashfulness was reputed weak and chil­dish; Honour a Chimaera, Good-Fame a Dream; and indeed all the Vertues stood cashier as Enemies unto Pleasure; so that there was left none to withstand this bold Assailant, but Frailty, a Ca­non La [...], and a Penal Statute.

Against these he raised such a battery of pleasing petulant discourse, and sub­tile insinuating Persuasions, that she stood amazed and staggering at the first onset, and had like to have been surprized in this Rencounter, had not fear of the Law, and a little love to good Report stept betwixt her and the enemy, and beat him back with these or the like Arguments. First, that her Reputation was so dear and tender unto her, that she durst not give ear to his libidinous insinuations; but he with a smile (wherein a good eye might have discerned scorn) asked her what that thing was, so called, Reputation? She replied, that it was the very Manna [Page 19]and Nepenthe of generous spirits, the God­dess of great Courages, and the Triumph of all Noble Actions; and further said, it was a thing so pure, so delicate and un­spotted, that the least excess did blemish it, any unjust action dishonour it, Indiscreti­on, Negligence or Idleness will deface it; but Prostitution that will wh [...]lly ruinate it: This Reputation is a good friend, and con­stant, that will go with, and follow any good Action; but if once forsaker, no search, no inquisition, no Prayers or tears can ever sinde it out. Believe it, Sir, (said she) there is no greater misery then to out-live Reputation, nor greater folly then that which puts in hazard and danger of mi­sery. But he, to whom sophistical delu­sions, nay, Atheistical Propositions, (if they might produce either profit or plea­sure) were more familiar and frequent then sound doctrine, or sincere Christi­an-like expression, perceiving that all his Persuasions to down-right whoring, would take no effect, shifted the Scene of his Discourse into Proposals of Marri­age. Pausing a while, she told him, That Marriage was a business of too great a consequence to be rashly undertaken; and that he had not known her long enough to understand her humours and conditions, [Page 20]which are necessary to be known, lest a Ma­trimonial Knot tye two Persons together, of such different tempers, that in stead of a sweet harmony of affection, there is nothing but harsh, and unpleasant discord between them all their life time. Besides, Sir, (said she) I doubt you have some other end in this Proposall then Marriage, since you cannot be ignorant of those many inconveniences, that daily, nay, hourly do attend it. You have read, I question not, several books, which have inveighed bitterly against marriage, particularly that Author, who writ of Love-melancholy, who thus capitulates with him that is over-fond of marriage, to disswade him from it. ‘Hast thou means? thou wilt have then one to spend it. Hast none? thy Beggery is increased. Art in prosperity? Thy happiness is ended. Art in Adversity? Like Jobs wife, she will aggravate thy misery, vex thy soul, and make thy burden intolle­rable. Art at home? She will scold thee out of doors. Art abroad? If thou art wise, keep thee so; she will par­haps graft horns in thy absence, yet scould on thee coming home. Nothing gives more content then solitariness, no solitariness like this of a single life. The Band of Marriage is Adamantine, [Page 21]no hope of losing it, though ever so ill linck'd together. Thy number in­creaseth, thou shalt be devoured by thy Wives Relations. An unchast wife will cornute thee, and so thou shalt b [...]ing up other folks Children instead of thine own. Paul commends marriage, yet he prefers a single Life. Lastly, is marriage Honourable, What an immor­tal Crown belongs to Virginity? To this the crafty Smec (Ignatius) thus replied;’ Madam, you have cunningly produced what that learned Author writes against marriage, without mentioning a word which he speakes in praise of it, in an Anti-Parodia, quite opposite to every que­stion, in this manner ‘Hast thou means? Thou hast one to keep and increase it. Hast thou none? Thou hast one to help to get it Art in Prosperity? Thine happiness is doubled. Art in adversity? Shee'l comfort, assist bear a part of thy b [...]rden, to make it more tollerable. Art at home? Shee'l drive away me­lancholy. She looks after thee going from home, wishes for thee in thine absence, and joyfully welcomes thy return. There is nothing delightsome without society; no society so sweet as Matrimo­ny. The Band of Conjugall love is [Page 22]Adamantine, and where true love is there is a Heaven on Earth, and here by this perpetuated. The sweet compa­ny of Kindred increaseth, the number of Parents doubled, of Brothers, Si­sters, Nephews. Thou art made a father by a fair and happy issue. Moses cur­seth the barrenness of the womb, how much more a single life. If Nature e­scape not punishment, surely thy Will will not avoid it.’ Thus, Madam, are all your Objections answered, and if such happiness accrew to us men by Matrimony, surely much more to women. Why will you then lye alone, and let your youth, and best days fruitlesly pass away: Be not way­ward, distrustful, curious, and nice, but let us make triall of that blessed estate in which dwells such sweet delight, and in­comparable happiness. Tomorrow is Va­lentines day, and, to speak in the Language of the Heathen, let's keep it Holy-day for Cupid's sake, for Hymen's sake, and cele­brate Venus Vigil with our Ancestours for Company sake. Hold Sir, not so fast (replyed Cornelia) had you alledged ten thousand Arguments more to perswade me to marry, I should not alter my condition for the p [...]esent; and though I had no rea­sonable grounds for my aversion to a marri­ed [Page 23]life, yet I should not like it being so much out of Fashion. He hearing that word concluded from thence, she had rather be a Miss A-la-mode, than a slave to the idle humours of an Husband, and from hence assured himself of a fu­ture conquest, and began to sing his own triumph; and to make his conditions the more glorious, the assurance of her af­fections more serious, and his lascivious pleasures of a Long-liv'd continuance, he highly commended that exotick cu­stom of having Adjutores tori, assistants to feeble husbands, who were allow'd of by the consent of the wife, to be made choice before the day of Marriage; and though it be not allow'd of as lawful among us, yet you see, said he, how generally it is practiced privately, so that it is become a by-word, that he is no man, or she no beauty, if the one have not a Miss and the other a Gallant, notwithstanding the one is possest of a wife, and the other of an Husband. After this, he discours'd her with the glorious lines, and golden Legends, but not the miserable deaths and horrid disasters of divers famous and renowned Curtezans. Madam, said he, I need [...]o inform you, that your [...] is in [...]er our to none, since your [Page 24]own glass, and the report of all that ever had the happiness to see you, fully assure you of that already; & it is no Hyperbole to say, it is superiour to Donna Olym­pia's an Italian Lady, and yet hers was so much esteemed by Pope Innocent, that it made a total conquest over that Holy Father, in so much that by that means, and yielding to his desires, by becoming his Mistress, she became his Master, and disposed of all Court-Affairs publick and private; there being not the least busi­ness ordered without her good liking, in part at least. For most frequently as he hath been treating with Cardinal Panzirolo about any particular, it hath been heard come from his Holiness's mouth; What will Donna Olympia say? Which makes it most palpable, that he was afraid of displeasing her; and there­fore that great Cardinal, before he pro­posed any great business to the Pope, he commonly Consulted Donna Olympi [...], for fear he might otherwise contract the Odium of that aspiring Lady. Nay, a Prince amongst the rest of the most con­siderable in Europe, sent an extraordinary Embassador to Rome, to whom after having given him his most necessary In­structions, he gave in charge at his last [Page 25]farewell; If by the application of our authority you can make no impression on the Pope, indeavour to gain him by bribing his Miss Donna Olympia, to use her power,

Her excellent features (though failing of yours) with her compliance to his de­sires, unpop'd him; the pleasure he had with her enervated his power; so that there was no more talk in the Pallace but of Donna Olympia; all letters are deliver­ed to her, the Memorials were no longer brought to the Pope, but to Donna Olym­pia, who told him the contents of them; and had alwayes this Duplicate, fate voi, fate voi, as much as to say, Pray do you look after it.

By her sweet indulging of the Popes humour, a man could see nothing but Presents still going up to the Vatican stairs; every two or three days you should meet four Porters loaded with money. So great was the profit belong­ing to this Papal Miss, that she had in a manner the sole command of the Datary; Multitude of Benefices she sold, and re­ceived vast summs for Composition of Law-Suits besides the sale of Offices; and by her instigation were many Taxes. Im­posts and Gabels laid upon the people: In [Page 26]short, such was her interest, that she was Mistriss over Court, Church, State and Pope, only for being the Popes Miss; and it was thought, when she dyed, she left more than two millions of C [...]owns in rea­dy money, besides Land and Moveables inestimable.

I could give you, said he, a thousand of these instances, how Persons of a low fortune have raised themselv [...] to the height of wealth and honour, only by submitting to the humours of great men: But espe­cially above the rest, and as [...] History best agreeing and paralelling with her own fortunes, he insisted much upon the life and fortunes of Lollea Paulina, the greatest Whore, and most deceitful Bawd that ever Rome acknowledged; but here you must understand, that this subtile Engineer play'd but the flattering Hi­storian; for he only touch'd at her feli­cities, but either forgat or leap'd over her miseries, which were infinite: He shewed how she was born in the City of Fano in Italy, of good but mean Paren­tage, how after her fathers decease, ne­cessity compell'd her to look out sharply for a place of shelter, having no other Attendants then a divine beauty, an un­parallel'd Personage, a boundless and [Page 27]undaunted courage. Here Hipolito the great Cardinal of Est, and brother to the Duke of Ferrara, beholding her, fell in love with her, bought her at an infinite price, and maintained her above the rank of the greatest Princes: Insomuch, that at an Enterview of Embassadors before the Pope in Mount Angelo, (being by torch-light) she came among the Ladies, so cover'd over with Diamonds, and the richest Jewels, that excepting her face, (which the Sun it self was not able to darken) there could nothing be discern­ed but a moving flame of most glorious fire, and those that had skill did value her at more then a Million.

It is not to be express'd, with what greediness of spirit, and wonderful de­light Cornelia's ears, drunk in these sto­ries and such like, of which he was no Niggard, since this Age doth every where so plentifully abound therewith; and she was the more pleased with them, being infinitely covetous, but not in that nature avaricious, to heap up treasure only to look upon, but as a discreet Pro­digal, to fill her Pockets; placing her delight in fine Clothes, high spending, Treats, Plays, Balls, guilt Coaches, rich Hangings, with Lodgings furnish'd [Page 28]richly and most splendidly; all manner of wasteful delights were to her such dear Companions, that rather then lose them, she would lay both life and soul in a pawn for their ransom; nay, she was such a true Admirer of pleasure, that if at any time a melancholy thought did chance to seiz her, she was observed to start from the seat she sate on, and force her self into a pleasant humour; and if she found no agreeable diversion at home, she would travel through the whole City but she would finde it out; Nor could she belong in search for it, since Dublin is a place of as much jol­lity and mirth as any City in the three Kingdoms, saving England's Metropol [...]; and setting aside beating the Watch idle breaking of Glass. Windows in Morning-Rambles, and killing naked men for no other cause then to gain the dis-reputati­on of a desperate Man; I believe Dublin hath as many witty Frolicking H [...]k in her as any other City, sworn servants to Madam Venus, and as true Bucchanali­ans as ever help'd to raise the Price of Wines.

Cornelia's humour Ignatius quickly perceived, and finding her spirits take fire at his words, he again pursued his [Page 29]former subject, and shewed her how Paulina, having nothing but the Re­venue of a beauteous countenance, and a well-proportion'd body, was three times the greatest and most respected Lady of all Rome; and here he paus'd, for had he followed the truth of the Story, it would have discovered, that she was three times also the poorest most deject­ed, basest, most miserable and despised creature, that Rome or the World had ever reserved for memory; nay▪ so ex­ceeding hateful was her condition, and so infinite her contempt, that she gave her body in Prostitution to the common Hangman for one meal to satisfie her hunger, and in the end died without pity, and was buried without ceremony: Had he amplified any thing on this text, he had marr'd his own Market, and made a Proselite in stead of a Prostitute; but they were whites beyond his aim: confusion was only within the reach of his Arrow, and that he hit; for his words did so well please her, and his rich Promises so as­sure her, that (not without some relu­ctancy, she gave him an assignation, and that their Contract might be neither ob­structed nor suspected she would not pre­sently resign her self up to his embraces, [Page 30]but desired him to have a little patience, and time would produce a convenient opportunity, wherein they might enjoy each other uncontroulably.

Every day, nay, every hour offered them an occasion to discourse, for he lived in this Ladies house in the nature of a Chaplain, not to read Common-Prayer to her, that was an abomination to this Lady-Saint, but to say Grace, till the Guests in their hearts cursed him, for letting the meat be cold; and to pray at night the whole Family asleep; this was a precious man in the eye of the Lady, though not of the Knight; for she loved him for the workings of the Spirit, and he hated him therefore; and because he would be even with his Lady, this Knight had had some Conference with Cornelia, and being an honest blunt Gentleman, he went not about to preach her into a Compliance, with a tedious story of I-know-not-what, but told her his meaning in plain English; and to that end told her, that very spee­dily he would invent a way to effect his design, but did not acquaint her in what manner he would do it; One day, when his Lady and Cornelia took Coach to take benefit of the Air he took the oppor­tunity [Page 31]to get the Key of Cornelia's Cham­ber-door, and got another made by it, be­fore her return, and was so eager in the Prosecution of his Amour, that he resolv'd that very night to put his stratagem in practice, which was the very night Ign [...] ­tius and Cornelia had compleated to lye together, and that she might not be interrupted by her Lady (who frequent­ly did call her unto her at midnight, when she ail'd any thing; and for that purpose that she might be within call she lodg'd her the very next Chamber to hers) I say, to prevent interruption, told Ignatius, that she would feign an indisposition up­on her return from taking the Aire, and so she should have the priviledge of go­ing to bed betimes, and he of coming the sooner unto her.

This double plot took not its desired effects; for the Knight caused his Lady to go to bed with him, an hour and a half sooner than they were wont, and that he might lull her to sleep the sooner, he gave her in a glass of wine, a very smal quantity of Opium, which so success­fully wrought upon her, that as she was as desirous as himself to go to bed, so she soon fell asleep; the Knight, by her snoring finding that she was fast enough [Page 32]stole out of bed, and being in haste, forgot to shut his own door, being so eager to open Cornelia's, which he did without making the least noise.

In the mean time, Ignatius in his shirt forsook his own bed, to enjoy of that of Cornelia; but mischief on't, as he was groaping in the dark he found a door o­pen, and entring love, though blind, and he in obscurity, soon directed him to the bed, and quickly found the way into it; but expected not to find Cornelia in that care­less posture, as if she valued not the loss of a thing she seem'd so highly to esteem, being troubled to find her asleep, he pulld her by the arm again and again, but could not awake her; tried to wake her by kisses; and now the vertue of the O­pium was evaporated, so that waking she spake somewhat angerly, saying, prithee, whats the matter, Dear, that thou wilt not let me sleep quietly? indeed you were a naughty man to wake me. What's this, said Ignatius? Why, sure my Cornelia is not distracted; Is not this the night you appointed me, wherein we should com­mence our happiness?

The Lady, not knowing what to say or think, cryed out, Lord Husband, what's the matter you talk after this manner? [Page 33]this is enough alone to create a jealousy in me: Why should you talk thus of Cornelia; I am your wife, whom legally you are bound to love, and have not in­jur'd hitherto that love you owe me.

It is true, said he, and dearest Madam grant me your pardon, and I'le confess the truth. I have injured that love you hitherto have shown me, by affecting any other but your self, and therein I have blackned my Conscience blacker than that Hypocriticall coat I use to wear, by breaking those many thousand promises I made you to be faithful: I am Ignati­us and this night I should have enjoyed by agreement Cornelia, but I find I mistook her Chamber.

This discovery so nettled the Lady, that she knew not what to say or doe, to find her friend false, could not but trouble her; but to think what was become of her husband troubled her more; not know­ing what to conclude on, she in a rage bid him be gone and see her face no more, so seeing that there was no remedy, he was even content to sneak away to his own Chamber; being gone, the Lady a rose and lockt her Chamber door; and going to bed again, her thoughts were seriously employed about her husband, that he was gone a Catter-Wouling, she [Page 34]question'd not; neither did she doubt he was gone to any other person but Cornelia, but whether to stay within her own Chamber and wait her husbands re­turn, or in a rage go to Cornelia, and re­venge her self on the Whore her servant, and the Adulterer her husband, she could not presently determine: Whilst she was in this consultation, her husband came to the door, but finding it shut, he was at his wits ends; for now he knew he was discovered, and it was but a folly to go about to palliate his crime, since it was so palpable, wherefore he knockt at the door, his Lady within, as seemingly not knowing who was without, ask't, who was there. By reason of the coldness of the night, and the thinness of his cloath­ing (being in his shirt) his teeth so chat­tered, that he could not in the return of his answer be understood. The Lady knew well enough who it was, and there­fore to punish his Concupiscence, she thought it requisit to let him stand with­out, and instead of a sheet, make him do pennance in his own shirt. Prithee, dearest wife, said he let me in, am half starv'd with cold. What saucy Jack is that, said she that calls me wife there, what bold impudent Scoundrell; my [Page 35]husband's here in bed with me; sirrah, you were best be gone, [...]'le raise the house upon you else; nay, good dear Ho­ny, don't do so, quoth he, let me not be a reproach to my servants, whose tittle tattle, it may be, abroad will engage all the riming tatter-Demallion crew of the Town, to write Lampoons upon me, and my reputation will he rackt, nay drawn, hang'd and quarter'd by a parcel of Bal­lads, compos'd of ill tun'd non sense, if this nights action be discovered.

The Lady could be no longer cruell, and fearing what dammage her husband might sustain, she arose and let him in; but poor Gentleman his condition was but little better'd; for he did but leap, as I may say, out of a cold grave into a Pur­gatory; heated by a womans flaming passion. I shall not trouble you with those bitter taunts, and sharp invectives, she then uttered, you may imagine they were not a few. There is nothing more certainly discovers the perpetuall notion in a womans tongue, than her jealousy or the knowledge of her husband's infideli­ty. In short he endeavoured to lesson his own error, by telling her of hers; which he said he should in a little time have told her to some purpose, whither this [Page 36]accident had hapned or no; and there­fore desiring her silence, and requesting a pardon on both sides, for each others in­firmity, with protestations never to do the like, and promises the next day to remove those persons who had occasoned all this disorder, in their family affections they seald the bargain,—which made them the more desirous of their natural rest.

Ignatius, that precious, deforming, Non-conforming, dissembling Holder­forth slept not, nor could he close his eyes that whole night, his thoughts were so busied about this strange adventure; and whilst he was ready to tare his flesh for very vexation, to think how he had irrecoverably lost that fair opportunity, of enjoying the fair Cornelia; when he considered how highly he had disobli­ged his Lady Miss, who loved him but too well, and cherisht him too much, he was then desperatly resolved to hang himself. Whilst thus ruminating his misfortune, a servant came and told him that he must rise immediatly, and come to his Master; this started Ignatius, and the fear of what the event of this message might be, put him upon a hundred projects, and guilt would have wing'd him for a flight, had not a little remaining reason prompted [Page 37]him to stay; whereupon dressing himself, not without a universal trepidation, he appear'd before the Knight, who taking him aside, in few words told him that he was an ungreateful Raskal, to repay those kindnesses he had received, by debauch­ing and abusing his wife, that were it not more in respect of kindness to himself, than mercy to him, he would cut his Throat; however he told him, he should not escape circumcising, since he believed he would make a better Jew than a Christian; and immediately hereupon he stept within him, and with that dexteri­ty threw him on his back, that the others Amazedness, by this suddain surprize, gave the Knight time enough to draw a Razor, with which he did cut off his Fore-skin. But this was not all his punish­ment, he was immediately turn'd out of doors, with menaces to this purpose, that if ever he revealed what he had done, and who it was that dealt with him thus, and the cause wherefore; he should cer­tainly dye for it, whereever he met him.

Whilst the Knight was thus severely handling the Man; the Mistress was ta­king to task her woman, who had not the patience to capitulate with her, who [Page 38]had shared with her in her enjoyments, forgetting the quality of her Lady-ship, was as furious as an incensed Fish-wo­man at Billings-Gate, using her tongue all the while she was managing her hands upon a face so pure, so fair, that Cruelty her self at sight thereof, would forbear to do it any harm or prejudice; yet this enraged Lady persisted, and had not on­ly embrued it in blood, hut had tore off her Head-clothes, and was dragging her by the hair, just as the Knight came in, who imagined the Tragedy would not end in his part. His late revenge was now turn'd into grief and sorrow, to see the fair, and his beloved Cornelia thus used, yet durst not seem over hasty in rescuing her out of the hands of her cruel [...] Mystriss; hut by degrees he so ordered the matter, that by holding his wife, he gave Cornelia the opportunity to e­scape; who took to her own Chamber as a Sanctuary, and there lockt her se [...] in, and rectified that disorder the Lady [...] had put her in. She had now some little time to consider what was best to b [...] done; she saw there was no thoughts [...] staying there any longer, where for [...] packing up no more then what she coul [...] easily carry with her, she watch [...] [Page 39]her opportunity, and march'd off,

St. Patrick's Close was the place where she first repair'd to, having there an acquaintance, who very lovingly enter­tain'd her, and lodg'd in one of the best Rooms of the house, This Gentle wo­man had been wanton her self, and was now a private Bawd, and therefore could the better advise her friend in the whole course of her vitious practice, and so crafty and subtile she was, it was to no purpose to endeavor to hide any thing from her, wherefore Cornelia told her the true History of her Misfortunes how her Master had enjoy'd her, and how her Mystriss had abused her for it; that she believed that her Master loved her still very well, but knew not whether she was gone. Hold, hold, (quoth Poly­andria) give me leave to call her by that feigned name, since what is proper to her she may be asham'd to own. Doth not your Master know whither you are gone? He loves you without doubt, and how shall he extend his love if he be ignorant of your abode? He must be therefore acquainted therewith, and that very privately for fear of discovery; let me see—I think I had best to under­take the work, as being long enough ex­perienced [Page 40]in such affairs; but d' ye hear me, quoth this Reverend Matron (whom Cornelia suspected not to be, what she soon found she was, and was therefore at first troubled at her coming thither) I say, quoth she, you must be ruled by me if I undertake your business; you are very yong, and want wholesom instru­ction, you shall not want it as long as you are under my roof: the greatness of your beauty may be the ruine, in­stead of the rise, of your fortunes, if it be not House-wiv'd to the best advan­tage, &c.

Polyandria was informed by Cornelia, that the Knight did frequently drink, when he was in the City, at the Clobe near the Castle, and in the Suburbs at the Nags-Head in Oxman-town; this was Intelligence sufficient for her pur­pose; for going to the first, she found him alone, expecting company to come to him: glad of this opportnnity, she gave him to understand, that there was an ancient Gentlewoman below would speak with him; he wondring who it should be, in haste comes to her; and she (to free him quickly from that a­mazement he was involved in at the fight of this veterane female stranger) [Page 41]took him aside, and whispering said, Sir, it is necessary I he short in a business of this nature; Cornelia lies at such an house, &c. she languishes for none but you, and none but you can give her ease.

The Knight, like a man transported, was ready for joy to have hugg'd the old Ma­tron for her welcome Message; but con­sidering how inconvenient it was to talk so publickly, he dismiss'd her, and pro­mis'd to be there as soon as she, and he was as good as his word, for he left his com­pany immediately, for, though a short, yet more ravishing enjoyment.

Love soon conveyed him to the place where Cornelia lay, and was there re­ceived by her, not as a loose Prostitute does her Lecher, but as a deluded Maid does her long absent Lover, with silence, sighs and blushes; whereas he, raptur'd at the fight of her he now so dearly lov'd, made all the outward demonstrations of vigorous and sincere affection; Polyan­dria minded every passage and expres­sion, and was no less joyful then they, in that she could by what she saw, promise her self no small advantage.

As an earnest penny of this Knights af­fection, he first gave Cornelia twenty Guinny's, and then promis'd Polyandria [Page 42]that he would pay for her Diet, Lodg­ing, and what other Necessaries she wanted; for such fair Promises as these Polyandria thought her self obliged to withdraw, and leave them alone, which the Knight interpreting to his best ad­vantage, made use of that time to renew his former enjoyment, and to assure his Miss, that her constancy should be gra­tified with such an annuity as should Gentilely maintain her, but it should re­vert if ever she admitted a Competitor.

Cornelia left behind her all her Gowns but what she then wore, and carried off only some of her best linnen, and some Jewels she had given her by some that had hopes to have tempted her that way, which had she stayd, undoubtedly had taken effect. Being thus but thinly, though finely, garb'd; the good old Gentlewoman that took upon her to be her Tutoress, thought fit to put her into a Garb, not only fashionable, but rich and costly, as far as that mony would go: 'twas the first-fruits of the Knights second enjoyment of Cornelia, who at his next coming, seeing her so good an Hous-wife as to lay out her money in clothes, gave her as much more, which was disposed of to make the splendid furniture of [Page 43]her delicate body exact and com­pleat.

Frequent were the visits of this Knight, and as he allow'd his Miss an annual Pension, so he bestowed costly Presents, of which contributions Poly­andria would not be deny'd her Divi­dend. Cornelia observing this, and how her benefits were much empair'd by the avarice of this Strepo-grana, be­gan to consider, that she had wit and un­der standing enough to manage her own affairs, and needed not the auxiliary counsels and instructions of Polyandria, nor [...]ught her self obliged to the un­necessary and impertinent trouble of Books, when her chief study was to read men, i.e. glance in their faces, and suck the honey out of their Pockets, wherefore she resolved to trust to her self, wisely measuring her hopes and advantage, by the sure Standard of her beauty, well-weighing that by an over­supple compliance with her Grandam Tutoress, she should unadvisedly prosti­tute that to an old woman (whose respects to her were as uncertain as her tail) which she might at her choice and li­berty bestow upon any young Gallant, [Page 44]her lucky stars, and bewitching eyes, might offer, notwithstanding, her vows and protestations to her Knight made to the contrary, and the hazard of losing her annual allowance. But lest she should discover her design of inconstan­cy, she demeaned her self to Polyandria with such a reservedness, that might ra­ther be construed an innate severity, and reverence of her self, derived from her fathers Gentile strain (which indeed wholly makes a Gentleman, that should live not according to the fashion, but the vertuous mode of his Mind, and reck­on Vertue his only Nobility;) then any shy averseness or indisposition to her ve­terane Governess, that might at pleasure over-rule her with bawdy experiences, and pocky Probatum's. In whose affe­ction (if you can believe that Crocodile tears may be limbeck'd into compassion) she seem'd to have gain'd exceedingly.

Notwithstanding all which tenderness, set off with all the endearments her Guar­dian thirty years practice, in the myste­ries of her Art, could suggest unto her. Cornelia kept within her self, after a long contest, wherein she plainly told her, it was sufficient she was largely recom­penced, for Diet, Lodging, and other ne­cessaries, [Page 45]and therefore told her it was unconscionable to expect, besides all these benefits, an Excise or Income from her bo­dily Exercise. She took up this Resolu­tion so firmely, that she could not be won from her main strength to wit, a purpose of reserving her growing fortunes whol­ly to her self. And herein the young Gentlewoman did (something above her yeares) very prudently forecast what a slavery she should bring her self to; if her Patroness once came to an absolute Soveraignty over her affections, or by imperiousness, or forcible insinuation, make her self Secretary of State to all her thoughts, which would have rendred her only a Cypher, and serve to multiply the incomes and revenues of her Guardian; a Rock upon which many featur'd and well formed females have split, and un­done themselves for ever: For Argier slavery is not so intollerable, as the unrea­sonable and unconscionable usage of these Beldams. A Baudy-House, or the Community of two or three Bauds, and their well affected people the Wenches, is as like our late Commonwealth as may be, where all should share alike, and the emoluments should be equally universal­ly distributed, but in effect it all comes [Page 46]into private hands, no regard being had to those that drudge for it, and sweat not with their brows for their daily provisi­on.

Just as Cornelia in a great measure had got the mastery over her Mistress, she perceived she was with Child, which ve­ry much disordered her thoughts, and was the occasion of her suddain Pensive­ness, and Melancholy. Polyandria taking more than ordinary notice thereof, was very inquisitive to know the cause; but Cornelia, thinking it might tend to her prejudice, conceal'd it as long as she could; but in a little time it discovered it self, by various symptoms and appear­ances; this Venerable Matron perceiv­ing the cause of her unwonted sadness, came one day to her with a countenance more Cheerful than usuall and said, Come Daughter, be not thus troubled in your thoughts the grief that thus internally af­flicts you will in a short time be in your arms, and then all will be well again, in the mean time, be of good cheer, the father is able to maintain the Bantling, and we will make him pay dearly for the pains he shall put you to, in bringing his stolne delights into the world.

Cornelia was now constrein'd to tell [Page 47]the truth, confessing she was with child, and had concealed it some ten weeks: that, that was indiscretion, quoth the Mother, this should have been revealed sooner; however, it is well enough, the father shall know of it at his next come­ing, and as she spake the word, in came the Knight, who had formerly taken no­tice of Cornelia's melancholy, and se­verely check't her for't, and now find­ing her in the same moody posture, blam'd her as before.

This gave Polyandria occasion to dis­course him after this manner, Sir, I am not ignorant of what familiarity hath past between you, before she came to my house and since; and it is no wonder, if a Person so young, plump and tender as she is, meet with a Person like your self, middle-aged, strong and lusty, should con­ceive with child, since there have been made so many endeavors between you to that end and purpose. Now Sir, if she be sad and melancholy her eat, blame her not, since she now fears a general Publication of her shame and infamy, and that her re­putation will be for ever ruin'd; besides, having never tried man before you, and hearing how variable they are in their af­fections, she is fearful after this you may desert her.

If that be all the cause of thy discon­tented countenance, said he, be cheerfull and assure thy self, Cornelia, prove but constant still, and this will cause my love daily to increase; and to divert her, en­tertain'd her with pleasant discourse, caressed her Affectionately, treated her in her own Chamber most sumptuously, and taking his leave of her, left her Fifty broad pieces, till his return, for he was going into the County of Tipperary.

In his absence, Polyandria consulted nothing more than where and how she should lye in, what costly things to be bought, and where the Child should be Nurst, and all with the greatest privacy. For her delivery she judgd her own house as convenient as any other, but that she must then pretend that she is a Gentle­woman whose husband is gone for Eng­land, about some urgent affair, and that would spoil her design after she was brought to bed, for she intended that she should pass for a Maid, till she was detected to the contrary, wherefore she pitch'd upon an obscure place, and a­greed with the people, (payin'g down twenty pounds ready money) they should keep the Child, and never more return it to the Parent; this they gree­dily [Page 49]yielded to, since they nor their frye-fathers never saw such a sum of Arraget Saffenagh (English money) before in their life-time.

The time of Child-bearing drawing on, the Knight was consulted about the charge, how necessary it was for her to remove into the Countrey, how expen­sive her lying in would be, having been so tenderly and Gentilely educated, and that it would be altogether expedient, to provide for the Child for his life­time; and lest any thing should mis­carry by negligence, or for want of prudent management she would accom­pany Cornelia, and stay with her till her up-rising, though it would considerably prejudice her business at home, since she must leave all to the guidance of her servants, and so she might without any great damage, for as yet she kept no pub­ick house, having lived but a little while in that place, having furnished her house very gallantly for the entertainment of Lodgers to begin with.

All these Items for charge of one ly­ng in, made the Knight scratch where it did not itch; but seeing there was a necessity that things must be carried privately and that the way propounded [Page 50]could not but be very chargeable, he ordered them two hundred pounds, to defray all expences, a great part whereof Cornelia, notwithstanding her former conquest, could not keep from Polyandri­a.

Being safely delivered, and secretly too, without prejudice to her honor, they return'd with triumph to Dublin, where burroughing again, Co [...]nelia appeard then after the purification of her body, a thou­sand times more fair and lovely, than formerly, if it were possible; she sweetly Bloom'd, ready to Bud to the first Gold­en Rayes that should dart on her; and her glad and greedy Foster-mother, was almost made young again, with the hopes her lovely and enchanting Pupill did promise her. But part of her hopes were quickly dash't, by the discontinu­ance of the Knights visits, which were not so frequent as formerly, more cold or in­different, and not half so beneficial. It seems he was cloyd with this delicate bit, (sweetest meats are most subject to surfeit) and was wearied with his annual charge, and diurnal expences, which cau­sed his life to be so vext and discontented, that he saw there was no remedy for his grief but a positive resolution to aban­don [Page 51]this Lady Errant, and be content with his domestick Recreations, and that he might have a pretext to acquit himself of his Obligation, to allow his Miss a consi­derable annuity in case of constancy, he charg'd her one day (seemingly in a great rage and passion) with disloialty, and breach of promise, and as in his ex­pressions, he became discourteous, and uncivil, so his actions were rude and boisterous; in so much that Mother-Damuable was forced to flye for it, to save her a sound kicking, whilst he in the mean time compel'd very unhandsomely Cornelia to deliver up to him a paper, he had sign'd for the payment of the annui­ty aforesaid, and going down the stairs, he vow'd he would never see her more.

Poor Cornelia was so amazed at this sudden causeless change, that she was in a manner senseless, and seem'd to be con­verted into a well-fram'd white marble Statue, and as that moody stone drops tears sometimes, when Heaven seems to look angrily, so she for the loss of that for which she had an equal estimation, had her eyes delug'd in tears, whilst her heart O're-charg'd with sighs, threatned a breaking every minute. As she was in this pitifull posture, in came the old [Page 52]Gentlewoman, limping and cursing all the way she came, a pox on him cry'd she, he a Knight if he had been a Gentle­man, he would have scorn'd to have done as he did; to frighten a poor old wo­man in this manner.—May an Hospitall convert him, h [...] bath been the cause of the breaking of my bones and almost my neck,—for a Pla [...]ne on him, I fled from his fury, th [...] first pa [...]r of stairs I got down w [...]ll enough, but comming to the Cellar stairs, thinking to have hid my self from the Ra [...] all in the Cole-hole, I stumbled on the Mastiff Dog, and tumble­ing over him topsy turvy down the stairs, I butted down the Ferkin of Ale, which we keep for our own use, and had like to have dash't my brains out against the Hogshead.—See the vanity of the fe­male Sex, their levity and mutability, like a shower in April, the Sun shine out clear, and yet so raine it would have wet one to the skin; Cornelia at this pleasant report of her mothers disaster, fell out into so loud a fit of laughter, that Polyandria thought her Daughter was distracted, and so continued laughing, till the old one put a stop to it, by saying, 'tis well that you can sust [...]in so great a loss as this of your friend, as to be so little concern'd [Page 53]is to laugh at the mischief that befell me for your sake partly; these words were deliver'd with so much gravity, attended with a Countenance severe, that they stopt the career of Cornelias mirth, and reminded her of her tottering condition, thus will a cloud o're-cast the face of Lu­na, and then she's totally obscur'd, and in a trice b [...]ing blown over, sh [...]shines as bright as ever, and as at Boe peepe, seems to sport with her inconstancy a fit Emblem for the female S [...]x; thus Cornelia reassuming her former sadness, appear'd the most discontented Perion now, that was the merriest but one minute past; and now lest her sadness should take re­all rooting, Polyandria began to comfort her, telling her there was no such scarci­ty of men that she should despair of ha­ving his place supplyed, every whit as ad­vantagiously, since the sam b [...]a [...]ty that had that efficacy over him was so far from being empair'd, that it was much em­prov'd, that there was enough gotten by the former to maintain them till another came, and that if it should not happen to be speedily, sh [...] had contriv'd a plot how to hook some more money out of the Knights Pocket, which should largely gratify both their [Page 54]necessities and revenge. This pleased Cornelia so well, that drying up her tears, she frankly told her Mother, that as she had wiped off all appearances of sorrow from her face, so she had a desire to wash off with wine what might casually stick to her heart; it was mutually agreed, and over the Glass she consults in what place this bright Star shall appear, in what Horizon she should next shoot her killing beams, for they concluded it not safe to stay longer there, since Cornelia's Lady had some inkling where she was.

Cornelia as yet was but a Novice in the Politicks of Queen Venus; and fear­ing lest the greenness of her experience should cause the miscarriage of her En­terprizes, for the present the thought it convenient to leave the guidance of her Affairs to her Governess Polyandria, who was resolved, the first thing she acted should be some trick that should give her satisfaction and revenge upon the Knight that had abused them; and in this manner she plotted it: She had an acquaintance at the Folly (so called) at Lazie-hill, butting over against Rings-End, who was one of the craftiest Queans of all those Ori [...]ntal Parts adjacent to [Page 55]the City; her Governess for Cunning was very famous, in so much that she became Tutoress-Universal to City and Suburbs, both to Privateers, and publick Prosti­tutes: to these she laid open the whole matter, being her confidents, and omitted no particular of the prec [...]eding story. A business of thi [...] weight required more as­sistance to advise what was best to be done, wherefore some of the sage aged counsel thereabouts were sent for, who having heard all that was done and said before, a general silence was proclaim'd, and before any thing should pass, it was ordered that two dozen of Cans should be brought in, with a quart of burnt Brandy, Pipes, and Tobacco; and because some of them were Irish (who were admitted ra­ther for their inexpressible impudence than intelligence) some Snuff was sent for, who dote so much on a Clock [...]t'a Sneezing, that they will not omit it in their very prayers, making each Snuff a silent Parenthesis in their very devotions.

The Cans went briskly about, nor was the Brandy so neglected, as to stand and cool, the room was fill'd with Smoak & the clacking nois of their tongues was so great, that the poor Sneezing Cnram-a-C [...]rees that sate below, could neither be seen, heard nor understood.

Silence again Proclaim'd, Polyandria undertook to speak to this purpose, (se­veral circumstances I shall omit for bre­vity sake) that whereas her daughter Cor­nelia, servant to a Knight, had been got with child by him, and that having given her but a small recompence for all her pains, only providing for the Child for life, and allotting her an inconsiderable sum of about 200 li. she thought it rea­sonable to make him sensible of his nig­gardly unworthiness, by forcing him to a more liberal contribution. To this end (said she) here is a daughter of ours that broke her leg, much about the time mine broke hers; she must be the Instrument to do my business, by carry­ing her own child to the Knight, pretend­ing to be Nurse to Cornelia, and that ha­ving received nothing of her promis'd Salary, let her threaten to leave the Child at his Gate; and that his Lady should not suspect any thing, this Woman was ordered to wait near the house with Poly­andria, to shew her which was the man. In less then four houres she spake with the Knight, and so cunningly carried the business, that he verily believed all she said to be true; and that he might not raise the leastsuspicion in his Lady's breast [Page 57]that he kept a Bastard; and to be sure for the future of not being served so a­gain, he appointed her to meet him at Kilmanam a mile out of the City, the next day, where he would endeavour to make her satisfaction; Mrs. Craftsby you may be sure was punctually there at the time appointed neither was Polyan­dria far off from her; the Knight came accordingly with some friends he durst trust, who after they had bandied the business to and fro, it was concluded, that she should have an hundred pounds to take him off clearly from keeping the child, with this Proviso, that her Hus­band would enter into Bond for Perform­ance of the Agreement: I Sir, said she, with all my heart, I will send for him; and going out seemingly for a Messenger, she stept to Polyandria, and told her what was required, and therefore told her she must immediately go into Saint Francis street, and at such a sign lodg'd her Gallant, giving her Instructions what to do, that is, to acknowledge her for his Wife, and enter into Bond upon the Premisses.

This was done in an instant, and all things b [...]ing concluded and agreed upon. Polyandria appeared, and told the Knight [Page 58]plainly, that though he had stopt the mouths of others, yet hers was not suffici­ently stopt, and that if he did not open his purse, she would open her mouth so wide, that his Lady should hear what would not tend neither to his quiet nor Reputation; and know Sir, this is a plot of my own con­trving, and I have more of them, this is not your naturall Child, though a Bastard, as well as yours. The Knight hearing this, made presently diligent search for the Cheating Nurse, but she was not to be found, for having received her money, the same Coach that brought her Gallant and Polyandria, carried her and her Bul­ly back again; leaving this projecting Ma­tron to shift for herself.

You cannot imagine what a heat our Knight was in, he walkt up and down like a man bereft of his senses, and sometimes in his rage would offer to beat the old Gen­tlewoman; but his friends hindred him from that as an act ignoble; not being able to use his hands, he was resolved his tongue should not be idle, which tumbled out nothing but the basest expressions in­termixt with menaces; as that he would indite her for a Cheat, Baud, and what not; and that he would procure a riding in state.

To all these worst of names, and dread­ful threats, Polyandria only laugh'd, and bid him do his worst, advising him withal, to have a care how he farther pro­voked her, lest in a very short time he should dearly repent of it.

The Knight's friends observing the impudence and subtilty of this long ex­perienced Matron, advised him by all means to make a speedy end with her, cunningly instructing him to offer her so much money, on condition she and her adopted daughter would sign an Instru­ment, wherein they should acknowledge that it was a Lye, and a meer invention of their own to get money, by causing Cornelia to lay a Bastard to his charge, which was none of his.

Polyandria paus'd a while, and found that this was nothing but a meer trick of theirs, to make them acknowledge un­der their own Hands that they are Cheats, which would be a sure evidence against them, and make them liable to the punishment of the Law; but consi­dering this would not injure them much if they had somthing under his hand to bear them harmless upon this confession; [Page 60]she made this proposition, that if the Knight would give her and Cornelia, a bond of a Thousand po [...]nds, to be payd to them, or either of them, their Executors, Administrators, o [...] Assigns, if either of them should sustain any di [...]ge, by In­dictment or otherwise, by reason of the Confession aforesaid that they would put their hands to such an Instrument. The Knight and his friend, seeing their policy defeated, and that there was no d [...]aling with this woman, in any thing that con­cern'd her Sex, consented to her motion, and whilst the writings were drawing, Polyandria by general agreement was dispatcht to bring thither Cornelia, who, poor Girl, was all b [...]bl [...]bber'd for the long absence of her mother, but was soon­overjoy'd to hear (as they rid in the Coach) how admi [...]ably their p [...]ots did hit, and how successful they were like to prove.

Just as they arrived at the house, the writings were Finished, but the Devil a bit would either of them seale, till she had old over, and secur'd the money, which was one hundred and fifty pounds: and having interchangably set their hands, Po­lyandria and Cornelia stood not upon Complem [...]nts, but taking Coach (hardly [Page 61]taking leave they gallop'd away for Dubl­in and through the City to the to the Folly; where they found the Counsel afoersaid sitting, expecting the return of Polyandria, who for joy at the success of the Coun­terfeit Nurse, they were all got maudling drunk; but Polyandria coming in at that juncture, added to their merriment, that she had escaped the hands of the Knight, and his dainty Squires, who (as they fear'd) would look them up in some Enchanted Castle. She had not been long among them (concealing what she had received by this other project) before she told them gravely and gratefully, that the In­venter deserv'd a reward, and the La­bourer her hire; to be short, pretending business, said she it was my plot, therefore I will have fifty pound of the hundred; for Nurses assistance, she shall have twen­ty pound, and the other twenty shall be divided equally amongst you, for your counsel equally I say, that there may be no quarrel and dissention among the Pro­sessors of our sacul [...]y of Sister-hood met together.

This Proposall was generally liked, and each taking her share, as it was agreed upon, Polyandria took her leave of them, taking her precious charge with her. re­solving [Page 62]with her self to change her habi­tation with all expedition, finding there­in many Inconveniences; as first the rooms lay too contiguous to each other, without winding Meanders, and multi­plicity of doors; no variety of Stair-cases, and but one avenue to the house, which was the Fore-door, there were no Salli­ports but one, and never a Postern for an escape, if need should require. &c. These & many other weighty Considera­tions moved her to aspeedy removall, but whether near the Court, into the City, or Country, she could not well determine.

She had a months mind to have tried an old Lord, but she feared his state was diminished with his strength, the first de­terred her, and she well knew the latter would never please her curious young Cornelia, whose Second Maiden-head she would sacrifice in an equall flame of youthfulness, where a large contribution and donations might supply and feed the fire.

Such a Match, or a Westminster-wed­ding, she could easily, and in a short time doubted not but to find in the City; to which place the old Gypsie was the more inclinable; for that she had been so long, and so well versed and insight­ed [Page 63]in the fashions and humours thereof; but she feared her Darling was too raw and tender, to endure so many im­portunities, and thrusts of so many Suitors, as Cornelia would attract, whom it was impossible to conceal long from same and report, with what competence she had to support the lustre of so great a beauty.

She concluded therefore to retire for a while with her Jewel into the Country, in that privacy the better to confirm and ground her yet not well experi­enc'd Disciple, withall to give her a taste of the Country simplicity, that would rarely set off her other accom­plishments, and be a masqne, or dis­guise, to what ever subtilty, or de­signs her imployment might put her upon: but herein Polyandria came short of her measure; for she that had at first so great an aversion to the Country, must now have a greater, since she had so free­ly tasted of those City-delights, the Country is incapable of en­joying; however Cornelia for a short stay, to gratify the request of her Governess, did willingly Conde­scend.

Cornelia coming into the Country, and being lodgd in a place within four miles of Kilkenny (a Place the Baud pitched upon for Convenience, for there is not a purer Air throughout the Kingdom than there­about) in a little time after she had been there, either through some inward dis­content, for the loss of her Knight (who, though she was mutable, and whorish e­nough, could not but be troubled when she thought on him, who had cropt her Virgin Flower, or through change of the Air, she began to abate of that Orient Vermillion in her Cheeks; and when all the Flowers were in their Prime, she onely droopt, and flagg'd the head, as if the Rivall pride of the Gardens, had put down and vanquished her before match­less, and incomparable beauty.

They Lodg'd at a Widows house un­der pretence of Summering, where they had all the Conveniences that health re­quired, and their Landlady a good debo­nair woman, and who was infinitely taken with Mistriss Cornelia, and more than Polyandria liked or approved of; but she was more discontented at the sick symp­tom of her Daughter (for now she cal'd her by no other name) the decay of whose Complexion, or least empairment of her [Page 65]beauty, was as gloomy to her thoughts, as the decay of the Universe at the Suns losing his light; for to the Wash-boul, or some infected Hot-house, to kindle the Bavins, she must betake her self, if the Empire of Cornelia's eyes should waine or be Eclipsed; but Venus was loth to cast off an old trusty Pensioner, and besoaght her Brother Apoll; neither did she forget to address her self to Priapus, to cure pretty lovely Cornelia, and send her an honest Aesculapius.

Polyandria hearing of a fam'd Quack­ing Doctor (that ran out of England to settle in Ireland, where his mean extracti­on, and baser education was not known) living in Kilkenny, in all hast she hy's to him with an Urinal, and with such anxiety and grief of mind, that it would have melted a Kitchin-stuff tub, to have seen the poor old Hagg trot, that her face lookt like an Hogs-Countenance in sowce, her eyes sunk as low altogether; or like a dark Lauthorn in a rainy night, betwixt ambling and trotting, she got to the Do­ctors, & up stairs she bustled, to the great offence of the Waspish [...]uack, who at the same time handling such another Patient as Cornelia, What's the matter, quoth this mighty Doctor? With a low Courtesy, [Page 66]answered Polyandria, I have brought you a Maids, water and't shall please your Worship, desiring your Advice, for I am an undone old Woman if my Daughter iniscarry. What (said he) a Maid and miscarry, come not to me with your bawdy inaladies, and away hurles the Ʋrinal into the Chimney without any further en­quiry.

Polyandria lookt like the picture of ill luck, and could have found in her heart to have embroidered his great wide Jowls with her nail; but in a cruel rage and in­dignation she flew out of the Chamber, [...]sing and railing on him, calling him an hundred bungling, cobling, rascally. Em­pyricks, (for it seems he had formerly ex­ercised himself with St. Hugh's bones) wishing him no other Patients then such as were infected with the Plague, Poverty and Pox incurable.

She was now in a peck of troubles, and in such a h at, for she had no leisure to cool her self, that she was almost sweltred; never was there a sultred fat Hostefs in R [...]m Alley in Trinity-Tearm, nor Pig-Roaster in Rartholome [...] Fair, could com­plain so justly: but what added misery to her vexation, she could not tell to whom [...] impart hers and Cornelia's condition; [Page 67]'twas bootless to think of another Doctor without a Urinal, for she could give no account or signes of the Distemper; As she was walking in the street, musing with her self, she met with an old ac­quaintance who was come down too up­on some notable design, a Gossip that had with some success practised Physick, and was, to compleat her skill, Mother-Midnight: This Doctress hearing all that Polyandria spake freely said no more then what Frier Bacon's du [...] servant thought not worth notice to his Master, T [...]ne is; intimating, That if her former enjoy­ments were not repeated and renewed she would absolutely fall into some desperate distemper, which might deprive her of her life. Let us leave these two Matrons pecking at one another in Brandy, white Anniseed and Ale, talking of their Ad­ventures while they are drunk, and fall a tearing one anothers Head-gear, and re­turn to fair languishing Cornelia, who by the pleasant conversation of her Land­lady, and the desired absence of Polyan­dria, had already advanced to such a de­gree of Sanity, as to have her mind per­fectly well and her body in some measure subservient to it.

The Widow-woman, who could see as far into a Milstone as another, taking Cornelia by the hand, desired her to walk into the Garden with her, which for the beauty scite, and variety of it, was one of the best thereabouts; here note, that this widow was little less honester in her body (as we use to say) then Polyandria had been heretofore, but of a far more noble and ingenious soul; but the decay of na­ture by age, had now in a manner ex­tinguisht all youthful desires in them­selves, yet still took delight to incourage them in others. This made her deal can­didly and freely with Cornelia, and after a demurr or two, which this under-feel­ing of a Persons condition, not well ac­quainted with her, put upon the freedom of her discourse, she began in this man­ner.

Madam, To divert something of that untoward disease which hangs upon you, I will without further enquiry into the cause, or putting you to the expence of a blush, tell you a good story, which hath good credit here, and the example of it may be of very good use to you hereafter; as I suppose, the relation of it may be pleasant at this present; pardon the tedi­ [...]sness of an old womans Relation, which [Page 69]is intended onely for your diversion; for I profess, I do hate melancholy my self, although length of years incline me to it; but more abominably I detest it in the Juni [...] of our Sex whom Nature (where she has been pro [...]use of her excellencies) has decreed to the fruition of the most delightful part of life; and when I consi­der those transcendent perfections you are adorn'd with, I cannot but wish to you all those joys and pleasures my younger years and j [...]veniled sires, ever longed after (not imagining she had al­ready tasted thosesw ets, which former­ly bewitched her the remembrance wher­of put her upon a yawn [...]nst ad of a pause. Cornelia heard now a [...]sh thought the se­cond part of Polyandria to the same rune, but to less disadvantage; for she rec [...]oned all her Avis [...]ments would be free-cost and partake of the free Air she breath'd in, and was exceeding desirous to have a full knowledge of this pleasant and pro­fitable story she was going to relate, and there with dropt her a most obliging courtesie, requesting her, since she had vouchsafed so much favour to her, in the demonstration of her undeserved kind­ness, she would give her the satisfaction of her promise.

You may understand then quoth Poly­andria, that an honest Collier, or one who got his living by carrying Kilk [...]nny coals up and down the Country, had a young Daughter, this Girl was proud, though seemingly modest, she would not let an English Bumpkin, no [...] an Irish Skullogne, though the first had never so many Rib­bands in his hat, and the latter never so much Snuff and U [...]q [...]ebaugh about him, she would let neither of them touch her with a Hop- [...]ole but there was a young Gentleman of a large estate living near, who by intelligence had smelt her out, and was resolved to carry her at any rate, for she was extraordinary handsome, and that she knew right well, which made her stand somwhat the more upon her Panta­bles, especially when she considered that Carbonero her Father, though he had a sooty face, he had white money; which by length of time, and great labour he had raked together.

This young Gallant employed a Gen­tleman that waited on him in his Cham­ber, who after many good-morrows to her Parents, by selling him a Wood or Cops (for he sometimes made Charcoal) and under such pretences got acquaintance with the Daughter, and with rich unusu­all [Page 71]Presents had quickly won her, so that upon all opportunities she could find, she gave her friend his desired satisfaction; but by the way let me tell you, he was so in­genious to himself as to serve his own turn first, by promising Marriage, if she was got with child by either of them; the pro­posal she lookt upon so reasonable, by rea­son of the present benefit she had received, and future advantage she expected, that she consented the Articles should be seal'd between th [...]m.

This wash [...]r first step into the World, and it Dislocated all the ligam [...]nts of her Vertue and Honesty; and to help the matter, she had worms in her B [...]lly, with over-gre [...]dy eating of Apple-pye, and that medicine of Marriage was not so easy to come by, as Wormseed and Al­loes. She was Complemented by the Squire in the words of the Spanish-Curat [...], Even as you please, either for a Husband or a Friend, and like Master like Man, all Promises were forgot, having ob­tain'd that by them, which after trial they found not worth the Performance of them. So this young Gentlewo­man was forced to kiss the Plough-Tail, and long for a Wake, or a Fair to put off her great Belly, [Page 72]and in a short time her pleasant Compli­ance, and her witty dispatches, whither fortune helpt her to a broad-shouldred Yeoman in a neighbouring Village; and she proved the Arrantest Whore, in all this part of the Country.

Now I speak not this in the dishonor of her, nor any way in reflection to your self, little Lady (said the widow) for I know it is the frailty of our Sex, but to give you a warning, to avoid the errour that she committed. It is indispensable solly, for a beauty fresh as a Rose, to suf­fer it self to be cropt, and wither in the hand of a wanton Hot-spur, witho [...]t soundly pricking his fingers for his feel­ing; such tender Buds should be worn in the bosome for ornament, the inward and most close affections, and though now and then sense were gratified, yet always a chariness should be used to it, and a valew [...]tupon it, that might preserveit. But super-excellent faces, without the help of the Looking glass of good fortune, s [...]ldome discover that blemish, while sor­row and repentance have wrinkled and furrowed their foreheads, or impu­dence and prostitution have brazened them.

This is a lesson, pretty Heart, I would [Page 73]have you excellently well read in, and I press it, not so much out of any fear I have of you, as in humanity to your worth; though I suppose your Mother, that re­verend Matron Polyandria, hath antici­pated this councel; and now I think on't, I marvell what's become of her.

You need not question, said Cornelia, but she will be here quickly; for her ten­der care to me is so great, that she would not lye one night from me, to be a sharer in the King of Spain's Indies: and now I must give you thanks, not only for the relation of this pleasant story, but for the good counsel, you so seriously and friend­ly give me, though to deal ingeniously with you (since I perceive you have so well acquainted your self with my condi­tion) I have no other Sampler, nor ever set my eyes to any other work, but Cu­pids Love-knots.

However, I should take it as a very great happiness, if my sojourning here procure your friendship, which I hope you will shew in being co-adjutant to a weak and imbecile Maiden, if ought o­therwise than a prosperous course my Fates shall appoint me. As she was pro­ceeding with her Complement, in came Polyandria, and stopt the residue, who [Page 74]stunk so loathsomely of Mandungus, Ale. and strong waters, that Cornelia was forced to keep the Weather-gage of her, and answer with but half a face to her drunken discourse; Polyandria observ­ing how careless her Daughters deport­ment was towards her, in a passion cry'd out, Is this all the thanks I have for my Labour? Nay, be sick and full in too, if you will: I thought to have told you some good news, but let that pass; Why Mother, replyed Cornelia, are you so displeased? I was taken with a sud­den qualm, and those sits you know I have been lately troubled with and therefore be not offended but let me hear how matters go.

Why. there is a young Gentleman, saith she, that will be here to morrow, and therefore I would desire you to cloath your face with your best looks, and wear again your Rosie Vermilion colour, for these Lillies in your cheeks will hardly admit those blushes which your Virgin modesty did wear, as snares for such as this young Paris. For all o­ther things I hope you are well enough provided; and I am loth you should be beholden to Paint or Art, to ill ustrate and grace your first view and appear­ance: [Page 75]and to whether appetite, nothing was talkt of, but what savoured of too mnch petulancy, and wanntonness.

Such discourse were for the most part the entertainment of Cornelia's second loathed rurall life, who considering only to what her Mother and Tutoress (not bountifull Nature) had designed her, ap­plied her self wholly to the Cyprian-Lan­guage and Customs. She had liv'd a Nuns life she thought in that Age, which by the Laws of Venus, was scarce past adolescen­cy, and yettook her Virginity for a work of Supererogation.

But now the time was come, wherein she was to be Manumitted from the slave­ry of her unsatisfied desires, whose restless importunities had so long vexed her.

Lust is a Gangrene, and having once poison'd a member, never leaves spreading till the whole body be Confounded; she hath now broken one Link in the Golden Chain of Chastity, and she cares not if all the rest be molten with confusion; hence it comes that she entertains more Devils, variety is pleasant; one Ship yields small custome, great Navies sill large Treasures, and by this means she thought her reve­news would flow in such full Tydes, that false Pleasure made her believe there would never come an Ebbing.

But to proceed, you may imagine this night was one of the longest she ever yet counted, from the disappointed assignation she gave that puling precious Saint Igna­tious, that was to present the morning and her Gallant together.

As soon therefore as Aurora with her flattering smiles had saluted her windows, she leapt out of bed, from the side of that Sepulchre (whose corrupt unsavory stench had tainted this sweet morsel of flesh) and before Polyandria had recovered her Crapula; and into the Garden she went to sacrifice unto Flora.

According to appointment, and by that time, that usefully ill piece of Antiquity had more then snackt to herself her cu­stomary share of Bob, and was upon her Trotters, A Gentleman and his Foot-Boy alighted at the door, and was so hasty of admitance, that Cornelia could scarce re­cover her Chamber, to attire her self in her most splendid dress, of which she had good store of her late Gallants providing. In the entring, this Gentleman was desi­red to walk in the Garden, and that im­mediately, Mistress Cornelia should wait upon him, which accordingly he did, and after half an hours space, his fair unknown Mistress entred, and with a winning, or [Page 77]rather commanding aspect, and most ob­liging deportment, presented her self at the descent of the Garden steps, to which our young Lover, to prevent her further coming, and that such a venerable beauty might keep due state, with all expediti­on hastened.

Having Admired and Complemented her with an elegant Address, and saluted both mouth and hand, he began his Com­mendatory Discours with his own ravish­ments, telling her, her Perfections ought not, nor could not, without extream bold­ness, be medled with.

In short, that he intended himself a ser­vant to her, but his ambition was too high, and had failed him; for her ex­cellencies had so captivated him, that he could be no other than her Slave; to which Cornelia was no way wanting for answer, nor did she like other weak wo­men dissemble her sentiments of his true praises, nor extenuate, much less, deny her beauty, but with a generous confidence told him, that he had taken some pains to extoll that which her own pride and her glass could flatter sufficiently, that she conceived the felicity of a Beauty con­ [...]sted not in Encomiums, or in Fame, which are but perfumed Air and Wind, [Page 78]Artificial Trophies of Natures Conquests, which she needed not.

She looked now to our enamour'd Gal­lant so wantonly, as that he thought it was a Cupidian challenge, though she left off without inferring; That use was that only, that gave the right value and esteem to beauty; yet the imperiousness of her eyes over-aw'd his liberty of questioning her meaning, or to entreat her to pro­ceed.

This first smart Rencounter almost puzled the young Gentleman; for his intention was to marry a Fortune as well as a Face, and that brought him thither, but such pertinent, home and uncircum­stanced discourse would put him off from any enquiry into her estate, and withal he might chance to marry Fortune Plu­raliter; for such a sprightly Girl could not but be suspitions.

Neither could he handsomly retreat without some devoir, that might be con­strued to a Love-visit, and to render an ac­count of his days Proceedings to Polyan­dria's Factors, (for you must know she trotted, not so far to dusty it away only, but to settle a correspondence, that might contribute assistance to her dangerous de­signes) to attempt her, he considered it [Page 79]was both unmannerly and dangerous; And on the other hand, it was a Cow­baby trick to say nor do nothing to the purpose, and betwixt these two ex­treams he was engaged, and there was no Medium.

The way he dis- [...]ngaged himself out of this Labyrinth, was thus, After he had warded some other dangerous flings, which Cornelia's wit had brandished a­bout him, to invite her to Kilkenny for a Treatment, which would either open his way to a more familiar a quaintance with her, or else give him an honest civil Con­gee, and this was as much as crasty Cor­nelia expected, for she found this Gentle­man not for her Pallat, and therefore to give him no breathing-time, or respite of another day, she most kindly accepted of his court [...]sie, and if he would please to take a small repast there, while she should put her self in a convenient posture to wait upon him, she and her Mother would at­tend him to Kilkenny.

Done and done, and the widow their Landlady must go for Company; and soon after away they went, and coming into Town, he planted them in a Tavern, the most noted on all that side of the Country for good wine, and noble entertainment, [Page 80]to which place this Gentleman had sent for some of his acquaintance; in the mean while the woman drunk something freely, and the rather to disguise the open-heart­ednes [...] of Cornelia, who was this day to begin and set up a new.

Presently in came a crowd of Gentle­men, whom the young Esquire had sent for, and now Cornelia might pick and chuse her Lover.

Such a flight of Butterflies (the gaudy Birds of Summer) as they did delight Cor­nelia's eyes, so they pretended hot wea­ther, a scorcht Harvest, and early but smutcht and rotten fruit. Such Pracoce, and soon ripe gear, being either first seiz [...]d on by such Locusts and the beauty and sapidness defa­ced and exhausted, or else wanting its due heat to concoct its crudities, (the just temperature of discretion) presently putrifies and corrupts.

These Gallants kept a huge buzzing a­bout Cornelia; and with a deal of soft courtship, by turns, did light on her lips, about which they wantoned off and on, till they were most damnably drunk with the juice that pearl'd on the brinks of them; nor did she refuse, or pettishly or unwillingly afford them the pleasure, [Page 81]nor with any particular or kinder aspect to one more than another, entertain their caresses; whomsoever notwithstanding her fancy did best and chiefest commend to her affection: only some greater and freer familiarity she manifested to that Gentleman that invited her from her Country Lodging to Kilkenny, which she might doe the better from their sup­posed acquaintance, and Polyandria was observed to be very open hearted to that Person, between whom Cornelia was a­fraid there was some compact and bar­gain, that might tend to the forestalling of her market.

In the mean while, the wine went mer­rily off, with a thousand healths to Mistress Cornelia, and her servant, and his happy fortunes extolled to the Sky, that had any interest in her breast, nothing but admi­ration, and such like Hyperboles, from the one Youngster to the other, vying who should best and with most Rhetorick set off her excellencies and perfections.

To all which grandezzas of Comple­ments; and liberal Elogies, Cornelia made no other return but in bewitching Lan­guage of her eyes, which (like the beau­ty of a good Picture) look'd with the same aspect on them all, and that too with a [Page 82]smileing and serene brow. Every one fancied himself to be the Person whom she would peculiarly admit for her servant, and was the rather loth to obtrude his respects upon her in publick before his Comerades, least he should offend her that was resolved to serve them all.

Now the Wine and her incomparable Beauty had intoxicated them all, so that from admiring and kissing they began to amend their Pace, and gave a more then decent liberty, while by strugling she disengages her self, and being free, cries, Fy, Gentlemen, are ye not asham'd?

By this time Polyandria was laid a sleep, in a great groaning Chair, and her Landlady out of pure kindness to bear her company, sitting in another Chair next to her, snoar'd as bad as Hogs-Nor­ [...]ons-Organs; now Cornelia was to stand upon her own Legs, and defend her self as well as she could, kisses flew about with such smacks, you would have taken them for Crackers fired with her eyes, that sparkled with vehement burning desires; and to such a pass was her ardency grown that it impetuously spread it self to all.

These Gallants had by this time good assurance, that Helena was as they would [Page 83]have her; but it is impossible she could serve them altogether, and he that could claim the first share in her, her first visi­tant was grown very Squeamish, from the impulse of those honourable thoughts he brought with him to her at his first Address; not but that he was glad he had miss'd a snare, (if he had married such a dissolute Female,) and withal, he was assured in himself, that his interest in her would be as great, if not greater then the rest, and that without any more expence or cost then what fell to the Club. Procul jam culmin [...] fumant, the Evening now came riding Post into their Horizon, so that it was high time for Cor­nelia to bethink her self of her Lodge­ment, which she (for all the freedom gi­ven and received between them,) thought not honourable to acquaint them with, (for all her favours were clear of any en­gagement upon her) or to obtrude her self upon their Harbinging, while she was consulting with her self what was best to be done, seeing her self involved in so great an extremity, as hitherto she had e [...]countred, being in a strange place where she had no acquaintance; and being bereft withal of the assistance of her Go­verness and Landlady, whose eye-sight, [Page 84]was extinguisht by excess of Liquor; I say, while she was in this Profound study, one of the briskest of the whole Com­pany, taking her aside, told her in a low voice, That it was later then she imagin'd, and that it was impossible for hereto go home that night, without extrem [...] danger, af­frighting her with the supposition of meet­ing Tories by the way, and therefore hum­bly entreated her to be his Guest at his Lodg­ing (for he was onely an Attendant on the Court) and that for the smoother carrying on the business, she should go by the name of ish Cousin newly come to Town.

Cornelia, as she was young, credulous, and little experienced in the humours of men, so she was desirous above all things to be freed from the slavery she groaned under of an insufferable Governess, who never prompted the young one to enjoy herself, but when the Beldam did design to encrease her own profit by that means; this made Cornelia the more forward to express a seeming consent in the return of her thanks to this her Confident; his Comrades being acquainted with the Pro­posal of her Lodging, gain-say'd it not, bieng very well acquainted in the same house, by a constant converse with their Lodger, contenting themseives with fu­ture [Page 85]hopes of kindness; And it was agreed, that they should all for the lesser suspiti­on honour their friend and his Cozen to his Lodging: withall Cornelia designed to give Polyandria and her Landlady the slip, and leave the two Sleepers to shift for themselves, and to make her self free from any further Government of her Tuto­res [...]; so calling for a reckoning, and Com­mending the care of the Old drousy Sin­ers to the Drawers, they paid and depart­ed.

To omit all the lewd practices of this witty wanton Cornelia, which she exer­cised in this Lodging, doe but cast your eye back, and think what a wretched condition Polyandria was in when she a­waked, raving and tearing, like a She-Bear rob'd of her only Cub, and ingaged in a mortall fray with her Landlady whom she charged with the Spiriting away this young White-Devil, beautiful Cornelia, and although she denied it with many vows and protestations, yet this would not any ways qualifie the inraged passion of our furious Matron, nay, what ever she alledg'd in her own defence was so in­effectuall, that instead of lessning the o­thers anger, it rather added thereunto, so that since words would not doe, the feud [Page 86]grew to that height, that to't they went tooth and nail, so that it may be conje­ctured the dispute was both sharp and bloody, and might have prov'd fatal, but that the Mystriss of the house stept in be­tween them, and parted them, for that great love and esteem she ever had for their venerable occupation; and to re­unite their friendship, invited them to lie in her house that night, which according­ly they did; and the next morning she treated them very Gentilely during their little stay; for Polyandria, being im­patient for the loss of her Cornelia, would not be detained from making all the speedy enquiry she could after her Daughter, who now was on the Ramble, and that she might the better do it, dis­miss'd her Landlady, sending her home, while she hunts hotly through the Town in quest of this out-lying Deer.

All her pains, though she was indefati­gable in her search, availed nothing; for Cornelia, fearing she should be discovered if she stirr'd abroad, kept close within, not only prompted thereunto by that which she enjoy'd, but more encouraged thereunto by large Presents, liberally be­stowed upon her, conditionally for some time she would stay within. For some [Page 87]short time she yielded to their Proposals, but they growing weary of this, acquaint­ed other Tumblers what Game they lately had found out, who coming in a­fresh were greedy, and by their eagerness had like to have spoil'd all, for these Blood Hounds opened so wide, that they noised every where, and by this unlucky means Polyandria came to know where her lost daughter did inhabit; Cornelia had knowledge of her di [...]covery, and to prevent her falling into the hands of her former Governess, she singles out one of her Admirers, (whom the thought most feasible for her purpose) and in a private Conference tells him how the multiplicity of her Visitants had betray' [...] her being and actions to the knowledge of her Mo­ther, that should she stay a day longer, she should inevitably fall into her hands, from whence no Redemption could be expect­ed, and therefore perswaded him, if he had any love for her, that he would think of some expedient, whereby they might secretly and speedily remove from thence to Dublin.

The Gentleman overjoy'd to think him­self so much her Favourite beyond the rest, express'd in his face and gestures all the symptoms of the greatest satisfaction; [Page 88]and being eager to put her Proposals in practice, trifled away no time in vain and empty Complements, but taking his leave of her, assured her he would return imme­diately, and gratifie her expectati­ons.

In the interim, Polyandria hearing where her beloved Daughter was, come in such haste, that her over-heated moi­sture had laid her Waste-coat under wa­ter. So furious was her Knock at door, that Cornelia and her Gallants were very much startled at it; she knowing her self to be principally concern'd, peeps out at window, and seeing that it was the good Gentlewoman her Mother, that had thus put them into a fright, she whipt down stairs, and before the Maid could get to the door to open it, Cornelia met her, and charging her to deny that she was within, but that she would be within by and by, she slipt into the Garden, through which there was a passage out into the High­way, and withal enjoyn'd the Maid to tell that Gentleman that was gone to contrive a way for her escape, that she attended him in the Garden.

Whilst Polyandria was longingly ex­pecting the return of Cornelia, this Gentle­man entring the house, was inform'd [Page 89]where Cornelia was, who hastning to her, immediately convey'd her through the Garden-door to an Inn where his Horse stood, and having with more then ordi­nary expedition provided Necessaries for their journey mounted and directed their course for Dublin, leaving the rest of the Gallants behind, with the aged and expe­rienced Matron, to procure them other Necessaries to supply the place of Cor­nelia,

Coming to Dublin, they for the present setled themselves in St. Francis-street, where this Gallant briskly prosecuted his business as long as his money lasted; but finding his amorous Appetite satiated, and his stock wasted, he gave her the liberty to be a free Trader, which indeed he could not help, for in that small time they so­journed together, she had privately con­tracted a considerable acquaintance, which very much advanc'd her interest both in money and apparel.

How to work with her hands she knew not, yet was well acquainted with the way to the Theatre, the Rendezvouz of Gallants of both Sexes, and the Place of amorous Intrigues; there she knew how to plant her self to the best advantage, and how to pick and chuse the self admiring [Page 90]Fops; Having first consulted her Glass, with the help of Art, to make her appear as lovely as was possible; but certainly, that Beauty is most perfect where the Face graceth the Apparel, and not the Ap­parel the Face, for none will deny, that the Truth of Nature exceeds the falshood of all Artificial Beauty; so incomparable was hers, that through the natural white­ness and smoothness of her Front, Neck, and plump Breasts, a man might with wonderful delight perceive the azure of her Veins, circling about in their several Meanders; the splendor of her eyes made her Beholders dim-sighted, their radiant influence being so strong and penetrating; and to compleat her excellency, the rare symmetry of every part of her body was so charming and magnetical, that it was impossible to look on and not be attracted to her.

As Play-Houses were her Chappels of Ease, so she had several publike Walks, in which she subtly contrived a way to make her self known; nor did she refuse to be courted and treated by the Gallants that frequented those places, provided they were the more noble and civiler sort of a­morous Combatants. Rings-End she had little reason to slight, by reason of the ex­cellency [Page 91]of the Air, and Prospect into the Ocean; nor could she think her time ill spent in a Coach, for a miles riding thither over the Strand, if for nothing else then for those delicate large Pole-beg Oisters, which are there plentifully to be had, so large an overgrown mouth would hardly contain the moiety of one of them; nor could she choose, but now and then for variety, resort to Chappel-Izard, or to Santry, (In-land Towns not far remote.) None ever enjoy'd her company once, but they were impatient till they were in it again; for to gain her self esteem and credit, she shewed her self (seemingly) modest, yet very merry and facetious; and to say the truth, Wit she had rather too much, by which she gain'd an abso­lute power over her Lovers Persons and Purses.

In this unchaste progress she took an essay or taste of all degrees, professions and conditions, from the Noble to the Gentile, from the Camp to the City, her Fars had heard all Languages that were charming, her Purse had received all Coins that were tempting, and had not her For­tune been ever more favourable then her affections a her body had been con­founded.

Whilst Cornelia was endeavouring to work her self into a general esteem, (as she had in a little time indifferently well done it) and had thereby collected a consider­able sum together, Polyandria found her out, which raised a different passion in them both, for the one could not be so glad as the other was sorrowful, the one having found the staffe of her life, (as she vainly did imagine) while the other from that minute concluded her self to be the most miserable creature living.

It will not import much to my present purpose, to relate the variety of talk this first interview did produce; you may conjecture that Polyandria was not meally mo [...]th'd, whilst poor Cornelia knew not what excuse to make for her self; In short, after a storm of words were blown over, they drank themselves friends, and con­cluded once more to cohabit in one habi­tation, which they agreed should be an Ordinary for flesh; and for the better en­tertainment of their Guests, they thought it not irrequisite to vend such Liquid [...] [...] were not sold by every vulgar person, [...] onely such Wines as were most desired by the Gentry.

Polyandria had no sooner setled her self in this resolution, and sealed it before Hell [Page 93]and her own evil Conscience, but present­ly she puts in execution; and that she might frame all accommodations suitable to her design, she immediately made search for a better house then what she had before, for that wanted elbow-room, she must have many Meanders, and many Passages, many Holes and many Hides Deeds of darkness do ever require many dark corners.

At last, she chanc'd to light upon an house near an Old Castle, commodiously placed, both for her home-bred Custom­ers and foreign Visitants, as well for the Hawk or Buzzard that flies by day, as for the Owl or Bat that flutters in the night, that she could not wish for a place of bet­ter convenience. The Sea was on the one side, which though its billows did not beat against the walls, yet any Ship of ne­ver so great a burthen might safely ride at Anchor. On the other side, it had some small or sleight Intrenchments, which though they were but weak and assailable, yet the Sea upon all assaults did grant her both Munition and Provision. And that a good name might Patronize her many evil actions, she caused it to be called, THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE.

By Contract she got possession of this [Page 94]house, and her Purse being well filled, and wide open, emptied it self for Ornament and Furniture. There wanted nothing for state, nothing for Magnificence, no­thing for delight, nothing for beauty, and nothing for necessity; howsoever, some bones that lodg'd in it were rotten and unwholesom, yet the Monument it self was stately and splendid, she wanted no­thing now but living Furniture, and that she divided into two stations.

The first were two Bulleys, appointed at night for her black Guards, the second a parcel of lusty Queans, to supply Offices according to their quality. The first of these she saved from the Gallows by ran­soming their forfeited lives, and the last she picktup out of several Bawdy-houses, having had not time as yet to keep any of her own dragging up: for these there needed not much search or enquiry, since Sin is found in every corner, and these Creatures, plying a wealthy Faire, will thrust themselves into the Devils arms, be­yond Hope, beyond Redemption.

There was not a Ship that brought in any Person fit for her turn, from any part of Wales, or England, but she had Pieces of Eight, of greater weight to exchange for it, Not any young or tender Pullet, [Page 95]that came fluttering out of the Country, whether English or Irish, of they were plump and bandsome, but she had speedy intelligence thereof, and quickly found out a way to insinuate into their Compa­ny, and diving into their present conditi­on, she by that means knew how to steer her course to her best advantage, and by pretending to do them kindnesses by help­ing them to advantagious services, she ser­ved her own turn first, and by her flatte­ries & large pretences made them her ab­solute Creatures. In short, she had varie­ty of Charms to intice the simple, Money to bewitch the Needy, Splendid habili­ments, and other gaudy Ornaments for the proud and Ambitious, Ease for Idle­ness, Pleasure for wantons, and indeed a­ny thing, or all things, to keep her Com­monwealth from falling.

Being thus generally accommodated, and her Mart, or Fair proclaimed, she need not doubt the want of Customers, every man hath a penny for a New Taverne.

She had wound her self into so good a credit among some young Wine Mer­chants, this added much to the gaining her a vast Custome, and as the Wine did in part attract them, so when drawn in, it was no eas [...]e matter for them to get [Page 78]out quickly, so powerful were the charms of those beautiful Inchanteresses therein plying or inhabiting: She had no sooner discovered her publick and private Pro­fession, but that her Visitants came tum­bling in so fast for entertainment, that her Kitchin was like Mongibel, ever flaming; her Hall, like Augeus stable, ever stinking with broken meat; her Dining-Room, like Babel, a mixture of nothing but con­fused noises; and her inward and private Lodgings, like Hell it self, where damn'd or wicked creatures, by bathing them­selves in lust as souls infernal, lie pickled up in Sulphur; Thus she continued her debautcheries for a long season, boasting her self in the strength of her wickedness, and not grieving for any thing more, then that she could be no more wicked.

Carnelia was the chiefest Jewel in her whole Cabinet, whom she exposed not to common view, but reserved her for her best Customers, such as valued not the expence of their money in the prosecuti­on of their pleasure; one where of being a very ingenious man, though sensual, af­ter his enjoyment of Cornelia, wrote these lines upon her.

The abuses in Baudy-houses are so ge­nerally known, that I need not here relate the several tricks and straragems Polyan­dria used to augment her profit, nor what devices she found out to assist Cornelia, in the attracting such company to the [Page 98]house, that may dearly pay her for her own wantonness. But though they lived thus splendidly and pleasant, yet there were Judgments registred above, and shame and disgraces preserved below, and when either the one or the other falls, Wo to the Offender; Judgment may for­bear, and Justice seem to sleep, but nei­th [...]r will pardon; it is only to raise the Arm higher, that the Thunder may fall with the greater fury.

And now the noise of these offences a­wakened A [...]thority, and that joyning with Piety, both send forth their Mini­sters to dissipate or apprehend them. At first, Polyandria play'd the Rebel, and withstood their Summons; but finding her self environed on [...]ll sides, and that neither Sea nor Land afforded her safety; however unwilling, yet with a seeming willingness, she yielded up her self and the bandy Utensils of her Inchanted Castle into the hands of Mercy.

Upon Examination, being found guilty of various villanies, besides the too custo­mary common sin of uncleanness; her Ruffians were sent to the Black-Dog; the Females whom this crafty Bawd had divelishly seduced, were sent over to the house of Repentant Hemp-beating Strum­pets, [Page 99]commonly known by the name of Bridewel, near Oxman-Town; but Poly­andria and Cornelia, who were the chief Authors and Framers of all this iniquity, were sent to a Prison, much like one of of our Compters, there to remain till their cause was heard, and due punish­ment put in Execution.

All this, as it was decreed, so it was per­formed, and each one went to their seve­ral place of Sadness; but Polyandria, al­though she ran in a superlative way of wickedness, yet did she not want friends, neither was the without her daily Visi­tants, for the love they bore Cornelia, for there is a Correspondency even among the worst; Birds of a black Hellish colour will flock together.

She had Counsels of all manner of Creatures, [...]uirks to avoid Statutes, Quillits to defraud Judgments, and De­murres to protract and put off the days of her Triall; She wanted no Advocates to plead for Compassion to blanch her Offences, and make her black Sins white ones; there needed no tears, she com­manded more Crocodiles than Nilus, and was not in the least Slack-handed in her bribery.

All these, and a world of others, being [Page 100]put up togeth [...] in a b [...]dle, and put in the seale a [...]ainst h [...]r intolerable mi [...]hiefs, w [...] [...]o light and [...]m [...]ah able, that but di [...] a [...] and di [...]gra [...], she could find no Comfort [...]. [...] thus hard beset, she now [...] to call into her the st [...]th of a woman wit, and concludes in h [...], that a [...] th [...] [...] deceived the first woman with his slattery, he may ( [...]am [...], give some reliefe with his [...]bti [...]ry; and ind [...]d her cause wa [...]o foul, that there was no hope but in strat [...]m, and to that co [...]se she onely bends h [...]r study, and in this sort she effects it.

Some few days before her trial, there came to visit Polyandria for Cornelsa's sa [...], a Gentleman of very grave and good de [...]tm [...]nt, one that had in his looks and behaviour both rever [...]nce and Au­tho [...]ity h [...]saluted the old One by the nam [...] of [...]ister; and the younger by that of Neece, who with much h [...]mility, and a river of w [...]ll Commanded t [...]ars blush­ing that she could not blush faster, re­ [...]rn'd his Sal [...]tations with the name of an Uncle; b [...]t casting down her counte­nance she seem [...]d to be ashamed to look upon him; Whilst he on the other side endeavored to give her comfort, but so [Page 101]mixt with severe and bitter councell, that the standers by might perceive he came neither to flatter nor [...]d ject her; these Complement finished they f [...]ll to private discourses; those ended according to the custome of these places, and the use of such Visitants, he call for B [...] Ale, Wine, and other Liq [...]d that th [...] ho [...] affo [...]d­ed, there is no spare of [...]ost; his Cobs flew about as if they had been purpo [...]ly wing'd for such a motion the Keeper care [...]es, and [...]d sts it away briskly his servants sup [...]ly thing wanting, and no man neer them but hath busy imploy­ment.

After this conflictend [...]d, and the Gen­tleman preparing so [...] ture, he be­stow'd on the [...] p [...]ivately something that was worth his acceptance; nor were his servants [...]nrewarded; nay as if h [...] had been confin'd himself to express the larg­ness of his soul, he b [...]stow'd a large ga [...] ­nish on the poorer sort of Prisoners.

Descending the stair [...], [...]e took his ab­solute leave of Pol [...], begging leave of her, [...]hat his Neece should attend him as far as the limits of the House will give her sufferance, and so she accompanied [Page 102]to the very Gate, where talking a little while, he at length proposes to the Keep­er that he hath a great desire to drink one bottle or two more at a Tavern, but a little way from the Prison; and that if he would favour him so far as to let his Neece go and participate with them, he should think himself infinitely enga­ged.

The Keeper imediately exprest much willingness to attend him, saying further, that Cornelia's offence was neither Felo­ny nor Treason, neither is she liable to Bond nor Execution, and therefore my self will be her Guardian, and she shall wait upon you; and so together they went all three to the Tavern; the Uncle called for Pottle upon Pottle, and to a­void idleness, the glass never stood still, which the greedy Keeper tost off so often, that one would have thought he had an Aetna in his belly, and that he endea­voured to quench the flames thereof by drinking.

Several Healths having past round, the Gentleman and [...]the Keeper fell into a serious discourse, not minding any thing but their own expressions: Cornelia [Page 103]taking especiall notice hereof, rises from the Table; and as if the Wine had stir'd in her some Office of secret occasion, steals out of doors, and knowing that at the very entrance of th [...] back-door stood a Sanctuary for the distressed, looking back, and seeing her Argus more and more inchanted with Mercury, like light Salmacis, having her heels at liberty, a­way she runs, and finding the door of her Refuge wide open, like a poor affrighted Dove, shot from the Talons of an eager Faulcon, in she enters for safety; to the first Brother she meets she falls on her knees, and having taught her eyes to weep at her own pleasure she delivers him so pitiful a story of her misfortune, that had he been as cold as a Carthusian, yet it would have moved in him a flame of infinite Compassion; wherefore taking her up, and being as all his Order are, faithful and helpful to womans afflicti­ons, he promised her all relief, all safety; which done, he conveyed her through the dark corners and intricate passages of that Cloyster, whether he shew'd her his own Cell or no, it is uncertain; but it is an apparent truth, that he never forsook her till he had placed her in that safety, which her self desired.

By this time the grave old Gentleman, and the Keeper having tyred themselves with needless Complements, began to give their tongues a little ease, that their eyes with more liberty might look about them.

The Uncle perceiving that his work was effected, pretended his time was ful­ly expired, and that his departure must be speedy. The Keeper, supposing his Prisoner was with the Mistress of the House, conducteth him to the door, and there took his have, expecting speedily such another advantagious meeting; af­ter this he called for his charge, but she i [...] missing, and by a generall and strickt search through the whole House, she was no where to be found.

It will be to no purpose to trouble your ears with the Keepers amazement. Fury, Fretting, Damning, Sinking, &c. Let it fusti [...]e, C [...]li [...] is gone, her escape is known, but the place where in she hath absconded her self, is a Secret yet that's unreveal'd; here she lay hid like the Minataure in the Labyrinth, and although her Person lay conceal'd, yet her mind was full of action, [Page 105]and busily imploy'd in a thousand several Cogitations. Sti [...] abroad she durst not, for fear of being detected; and her a­morons Visitants, as formerly, she could not with safety admit of, for fear of being discovered by their means; wherefore she look'd on nothing more expedient for her future preservation, than to set her labouring acquaintance on work to sue, if not for a pardon, yet at least for some fair and reasonable composition, and having the experience of others misfor­tunes in things of this nature, she knew no way so safe or speedy as that of Bribes; wherfore like a Prodigal, she s [...]ar­ters with her hands what moneys they never wrought for, and would not [...]urfer any man to be imployed for her, but he should have profit before he under took her business; neither must she undertake any mean instrument ro prosecute her designs, especially at this time, wherein arose the Whores greatest Persecution in Dublin, from St. P [...] clearing the Kingdom of all venomous Creature, to the establishing a New-More-Fields upon St. Stephens Green. For such was the extraordinary zeale of the chief Ma­gistrate of the City, that though he was an Annuall Lord, yet it put him on the Office [Page 106]of a Skavinger, to clense the streets of menstruousraggs, filthy lusts, and who­rish impurities; to that end, he had more than a compleat Regiment of Informers, whose sole business was to inspect Baudy­houses, and to register the names of the Offenders, who were immediatly seiz'd by Warrants, and confined; whose numbers were so great, that in that dreadful year all the Common Prisons in or about the City, were cram'd with them.

In the end, Cornelia's Project proved prosperous; And upon good security, that she would lead a new life, and be a true Penitent for crimes past, her Peace was made but at so dear and high prized con­ditions, that looking into the remainder of her money, she sound so little, that did she not speedily study for a supply, she could not reasonably from thence expect subsistence.

Session; being now at hand, Polyan­dr [...], with a whole Herd of the Baudy-Sisterhood, were brought to the Bar, where their lives and conversations were found so lewd, and notorio [...]sly wicked, that the Sentence which past upon them, was, that they should be Carted through the City.

Polyandria led the Van, being the most experienced crafty Bawd of them all, whose sufferings were somewhat greater than the rest and although she had her brains almost beaten out with rotten eggs, yet such was the indefatigable Pains-ta­king of the Communalty, that by continu­ally pouring on her their dirt she seem'd to be in pickle for the Devil and was go­ing to Hell for a token. After this, at the Towns-end, she (by command) was salu­ted by a Firz-bush, and so dismist; but what became of her afterwards was unknown to most, though some confidently affirm she was drowned in her passage to West-Chester.

This Persecution grew so hot, that the Whores for fear fled out of Dublin, and such as durst stay behind were forced to play the Hypocrites, having no other way left to blind the eyes of Justice. Who­ring grew now so out of fashion, through fear of punishment, that Cornelia had no­thing to do, which rendred her conditi­on very miserable and indigent. These afflictions every one thought to be Ada­mants, powerful enough to attract her soul to Heavenly Meditations; but the effect proved quite contrary [...] [Page 108] [...]er carried the Devils Balm in her bo­some, and could anoint over every dis­after of Fortune; with, What will be shall be; She often perused this Adage; Things past cure, past care, and whether it were Envy or Fury, or both, she became in a manner desperate.

After some small time thus spent in Languishment, looking at no mark, but the old one, (for she could with the least trouble hit it) she labours all her Spirit, all her imaginations, puts her Friends, Flat­ [...]erers and Companions to the Test leaves no way no means [...]nessayd how she might set up again, and advance her former Trade.

It was not long ere she had renewed her trade, and by running over her for­mer practices, she made a shift to cram her baggs pretty well again. Among the rest of her Gallants, she used to frequent with a most affectionate Dotard, an old fellow that for fear of Taxes, &c. Had betaken himself to the privacy of a Lodg­er. something near Cornelia's Lodgings, and made it his business to enquire o [...]ther Fortune and Reputation, where he met with an Answer that had laya Leger [Page 109]there ever since Cornelia came to the House, That she was an Orphan well de­scended, allied to such a Gentleman, and was a most modest virtuous Lady; This and his own conceit of her, led him into the snare.

Hereupon he forthwith addrest him­self to her, having prepared his way by the Landlady his good Neighbour, who omitted not to commend him, his Baggs, Parts, and Aldermans abilities, which Cornelia well approved of by a slight and careless laughter at the story.

But yet it would hardly down with her, although she foresaw the necessity of being married, untill the advice, and im­portunate counsels of her Voluptuary Friends had perswaded her to it (and the old Fop never came to visit, but he saw one of her Cozens, Townsmen, or the like, in her Company;) For they told her that the cold Dew gave the sweetness to Flow­ers, and that Catarrhs, and Rheums were the irrigations and moisture that would still keep her blooming, while the violent heat of youth would soon wither her, as, [...]tha considering her own intemperancy and immoderateness, she could find no [Page 110]better expedient than one, whose weak­ness of body and mind would afford her liberty, whereas should she marry a young one, as he could not satisfy her, so also would a raging jealousy, and a sowre usage discount her por­tion.

Now the Match went on amain, and Cornelia well satisfied with a pregnant Reason one of them had given her, in Reverence to his Age, professed her self bis Hand-maid, and gave him assurance of her most entire affections, which so blind­ed this old Fribbling Sink-Kater, that without any more ado, and with all the privacy that could be, as if he had got a most inestimable Jewel, they were pre­sently married; and the old Bride-groom, and the young Bride, were the lovingest Couple, as ever eyes and looks be­held.

Now Horn-Fair began, such a con­course of Chapmen followed her, as was hardly ever seen before, all forsooth to honour the Espousals of Cornelia, and to see the Bridal-bed, the old man still in­venting new ways of Courtship, and En­tertainment for these his friends, whilst [Page 111]her whole time was taken up in studying how to make them welcome.

This Trade continued till the young Gentlewoman came within Ken of her nine months time, and a swelling in her belly to an usuall bulk at five months time, signified a forward inchoation of the Marriage-Rites; and it was souniver­sally taken notice of, that at last the old Chance himself had so much sagacity, as to suspect some body had been tem­pering there before which he could not longer dissemble; but one night in bed told her of it.

Cornelia began first moderately to re­fute his jealousy, and protested her inno­cency and spotless Chastity; but the old man growing somewhat wayward and testy, she fell down-right a railing on him, telling him, that she would acquaint her friends with his Language, whose Honour would oblige them to call him to a strickt account of that scandalous im­putation; It is true (said she) I was told of this before, but my indiscreet affection to such a Worm-eaten Slave hath over­born my felicity, which I might have en­joyed with a Noble young person, who [Page 112]hath Courted me with the greatest passion; but since it is as it is, I would have you know that you have not marri­ed a Fool, telling him further, that she would take a severe revenge of that his affront done to her Honour, and un­blemisht reputation, and mounted this disgrace to such a height, that sh [...] swore she would never bed again with him, till he had made Reparation.

The next Morning her usuall Visitants came to give them the Good-morrow, and found her and her old Husband quite out of T [...] but her especially so dogged & so discomposed, that they fear­ed she had vowed Penitence, and would loure such Sinners ought of her sight, when to save the fear of such a thought, she presently tells the story, and with all aggravation either female wit or ma­lice could invent, reports his usage of her.

In the interim, the old Gentleman slips out of doors, to avoid the storms he fear­ed from these friends of his wife, who presently, upon notice of his absence, falls to the old Game, with all the mirth and jollity imaginable; but however, she did [Page 113]not wholly forget her husbands words, which she knew a little longer time would manifest to be true. So she resolved whatever befell, to make the feud irrecon­cileable, and in order to that to leave him. But before she did this, it was advised that two of her pretended Cousens, should go and expostulate the case with Gaffer Gray beard, and give him a Juniper Lesson in some publick place, to make Cornelia's departure from him, just and honourable.

This Counsel was well followed, and her husband well told of the insufferable wrong he had done their Kinswoman, but gave him no such hint as leaving him, for now was she packing up her best Moveables, Jewels, and Plate, with a good summe of moneys, and withall, stretching her husbands credit for more (where ever she knew any thing could be raised) and thus viis & modis, she had a­massed together near the value of a thou­sand pounds.

So with two of her intimate and con­fiding friends, she that afternoon depart­ed from Dublin, and went to Tredath, twenty miles from thence remote, where [Page 114]like the only Beauty, the only Gallant of that place, she was admired by all, but kept at a distance from any thing further, by her Paramours, who were very strict in observing her, and very carefull of her slipping.

The forlorn Elder at Home, missing his Wife, and seeing his Trunk [...] and Ca­bin [...]ts broke open, was almost ready to hang himself. He was ashamed to make any loud Complaint, for who would pit­ty him? What to do he knew not and before he could well recollect himself, people were knocking at door for money for the wares she had taken up that day, and had appointed them to bring their B [...]lls of Parcels that night.

These Dons, and Undons, had quite cured my Gentleman of his longing (which Cornelia would by no means gratifie, she was so Squeamish and coy to his embra­ees) and made him scratch where it need­ed not; and to summe up his miseries, his Wives Relations, as they called themselves, were Ubiquitaries, and in his unlucky Mansion he was sure never to see them a­gain; and which was worse than all, after his young wise had thus liberally taken [Page 115]her pleasure, and was gone incognito to Droghedaugh, new Stratagems were set on foot by the policy of her Privado' [...], to make the Viellago bear the charge, and cost of their sport.

To which end they advised with a Lawyer (that was to go snip with them) to set a foot her Claim for Alimony, and accordingly drew up a Bill in Chancery, and Suppaelig;na'd the old man to answer; in which Bill there wanted not such inve­ctives, as their Plot (and the modesty and severity of the Law could suffer) did re­quire, especially they exagitated, and urged strange things unto him.

After much trouble, and many vexati­ous Orders which her Agents had the opportunity, and pleasure of procuring him; and no end except of a good one, either in Hope or View.

At length he makes an Overture of a Treaty, which with much ado was Con­descended to, but with such stiff obstinate terms on her side (which for a weight to her lightness, were managed by learned Counsel) that it was as bad as holding the the Wolf by the eare.

But the desire of quiet prevailed, which he purchased at the rate of five hundred pounds ready money, to be paid down, with a condition of two hundred pounds more to be paid by way of Legacy, if he died before her, and Releases good in Law to be given each other. Shortly after this agreement, this old fellow broke his heart, and died, [...]nd left Cornelia a most triumphant, rich, and eminent Whore through the whole King­dome.

Flusht with this gre [...] success, and tumbling in money, she began to Circum­scribe the familiarity of her former de­portment, and taking state upon her, would admit but few into her society, and such only who had either wealth, or honour, or both.

After the manner of a splendid debau­chee, she lived several years in Ireland, scorning to be confined to the narrow li­mits of any one City, though the Metro­polis thereof; and therefore she gave her self the liberty of roving to and fro the Country. Her Reputation being worn almost Thread-bear, and moneys coming in too slowly, to gratify her inlarged ex­pectations, [Page 117]she resolved to leave her na­tive Country, and try her fortunes else­where, and concluded no place so requi­site for that purpose, as the famous City of London.

She need not wait long in the expecta­tion of a fair wind for England, since Southerly and West Winds are there so srequent; but left she should be trou­bled with an expensive Male-Attendant, converting what goods she had into rea­dy money, she privately, and without acquainting any of her friends with her departure, stole aboard, and having a prosperous gale, arrived in twenty four hours at a place called Nessen, within eight miles of Chester, and having layn there one night, went thither, and took Coach for London, where being arrived, she found the splendour of that unpara­lel'd new-built-City, so far exceeding all report, that she esteemed it her Terrestrial Heaven, and doubted not to enjoy a happiness agreeably lasting.

The Exchanges were her Marts for fashions, whither she repair'd, and was supplied with what she best fancied, she visited the Kings and Dakes Theatres by [Page 118]turns there, to expose to publick view her rich and fashionable Ornaments and Ha­biliments.

All places of Gentile resort she fre­quented in or about the City, and in a little time became as familiar acquainted with Epsom, and Tunbridge, that few of their Visitants knew more of the humours which attend them than did Cornelia, and was as much crowded with the visits of Gallants.

At London she had gain'd the reputa­tion of a matchless Beauty, and indeed her features were so excellent, the greatest Critick in handsome faces knew not where to take away, or what to add; in short, she was a Book without an Errata; neither did ever such a perfect Impressi­on come from Natures Press: By these irresistable Charms she won more hearts than a new Drammatick Poet gains praises, and was burden'd by their importunate, and some impertinent visits, that she re­solved to seclude her from that vexatious trouble, by dedicating her time and pleasure to one only that would maintain her Gentilely.

Such a Person (sit as she thought for her purpose) she soon found out, but she found her de [...]gns soon frustrated by her Gallant inconstancy, and looking on this as the fa [...]lt or errour of few men, so the first relinquishing her, she resolved to go on in her wickedness and debaucheries, and had so many, till her own wofull experience did largely inform her, that as Astra [...] had forsook the Earth, so sidelity and constancy to a woman had left man­kind. Wherefore she resolved to be a Miss to o [...] nolon [...]er, but to any one that would b [...] [...] allant and, by ass [...]ming this freedom procured her self vast numbers of friends and acquaintance.

But in the end, looking back into her self, and observing into what a crasie and rot­ten Bark sh [...] had shipt her self, on a rough and tempestuous Sea, where insi­nite diseases lay gaping to swallow her up, the rigour of th [...] Laws ready to de­vour her, Sham [...] and Beggary striving to overtake h [...]r, and at last the Curse of all Curses, to make her last Will on a Dung­hill, or at best in an Hospit all, Pandora's Boxes of most distempers; this did so per­plex her, that being cloy'd with such lewdness, and sin a [...]weary of her, as [Page 120]she was weary of sinning, she began to turn over the lease of h [...]r wickedness, and though she had no thought of A­mendment, yet she resolved to take a new course, for the safety of her health and Person.

As she had formerly been a be witching Whore, she knew no reason, but that she might practice the Art of a deceiving Bawd, making others sins maintain her own; resolving not to venture herself a­gain singly on the Surges, but to traffique by Factors.

As a Pattern for this her wicked and destractive purpose, she made a severe in­spection into the Platform of her mother Polyandria's Bawdy Commonwealth; but finding many faults in her govern­ment, and having seen the wofull Conse­quences of that Matrons foul and villain­ous Miscarriages, she thought it requisi [...] to regulate that form, and to frame to her self new Laws of severer condition, and therefore would have Taxes and Gatherings of an higher and more prosit­able Nature; all her Ryot was in the shape or with th [...] shadow of Frugality; her Instruments shall be fair and handsome, [Page 121]yet but few in number; for whensupplies are wanting, she knew how to fetch them from places of fair Reputation; she made Choice of such for her ordinary servants that were comely and industrious, that when extremity should fall upon her, with her disguises, she may make them appear like glorious D [...]mi-Angels. In short, that old Commonwealth, wherin she drew her first experience, and the benefi­ciall nowledg of most humors, she turn [...]d topsy-turvy, and made [...] new one so strong and permanent, as she thought, that it should be to all the Impudent an everlasting President.

Upon these Resolutions she thought her work was half finished, till looking better, and more strictly into her design, she found the Basis, and ground-work whereon she was to build the foundation of her proceedings, was yet to find out, though not beyond her reach and abili­ty, and that was a Convenient House, standing in a Convenient Place, for the exercises of her deeds of darkness; an house so impregnable, that when all shall be vanquisht, it shall stand in defiance; and that she might attain to so great a safety, she ranged through every part, [Page 122]and promising place of the City: half tyred with her search, she is at length informed of a place sit for her purpose, be­ing very Commodiously planted for all accommodations. It was without the Walls of the City, bordering upon one of the most eminent pleasant Walks that do belong thereunto, and not far distant from that famous, or rather infamous place, which had like to have been defa­ced, nay, utterly ruin'd by the giddy many Headed-Multitude.

This Fort or Citadel, which she had chosen for her Mansion, was so fortified, and invyroned with all manner of Fortifi­cations, that had impregnable Rhodes taken thence it's Pattern, neither the Turks wealth, nor the Traytors Wit could ever have betray'd it; for e're any Foe could approach this, he must march a long way, and so narrow, that but two could march a breast, and at last no en­trance at the Port, unless they were known to be friends by a word given out for that purpose.

Within this Citadel, were Bull­works, Orchards, Gardens, Base-Courts, and inferiour Offices, every one being [Page 123]capable of maintaining a several fight, and every fight able for many hours to play with a rabble Army; and should she be over-powered with multitude of men, she had severall Posterns to permit her escape in great necessity.

For the better and securer manage­ment of this famous infamous House of Hospitality, she thought it Convenient to prepare Men, and Munition for de­fence, as for Household-Ornaments, those she intended to increase according to the plenty of her incomes. Her desires were so great, that her hast in the execution could not be little, she would not lose a minute, but according to the Proverb, turn'd every stone, and making Hay while the Sun shined, she had all things befitting this her new design. And that which made her more confident in this work, she was inwardly acquainted with a fellow whose face look'd no less furious than a Lyons, when Hunger prompts him to hunt after prey, to this great Monster both in shape and condition, she gave the charge of her gate.

These whom she entertained in the house she placed in their true equipage, [Page 124]gave them their severall charges, read them the Orders of the House, proclaim­ing a strict penalty for the breach of e­very condition; this done, she hung forth her Flagg for Custome, proclaims her preparations, and invited all wealthy Chapmen to a generall entertain­ment.

As greedy Eagles prey on dead Carcasses, Crows and Ravens feed on Carrion, or hungry doggs tear and devour the En­trails of stinking beasts, so abun­dance came (sinful Creatures of all qua­lities) to be undone by her, only the empty Purse expulsed, and could get no admit­tance, nay, a reasonable stock many times perished in the Mid-way, & could not get to the end of his purpose, her Taxes and Customes were so many, and so mighty; for her Cerber us at the first Port had a double Impost, one for the Gate, and an­other for the word he must deliver at the inner entrance, or else he was to proceed no further; nay as I have been informed there were those who had Fees for the Hall, for the Dining Room, and the With-Drawing-Chamber, the rest which were peculiar to the Bawd her self (beau­ty blown Cornelia) report, hath affirmed they were infinite,

All her entertainments ( Proteus like) were full of variety and changes, and she would ever suit them to the nature of him that was entertained; if he were a man of worth and respect, he was respe­ctively used, hating Over-reckonings and sold her Winesas good as most common­ly sold, at little more than the rate of Taverns; if other wise, besides the expence of his money a Hat, Cloak, or Sword were forfeited for his rude behaviour, with a good beating many times to boot.

These Mill dews could not chuse but breed her a World of Honey, and true it was, that her baggs were so many, and so massy that she had searce Trunks enough to contain them. This wealth made her proud, and Pride renew'd her former cu­riosity, she will not now live at so low a rate as lately she hath done; but as she hath plenty of money, so she will have plenty of Attendants; and hereupon she instantly Contracted, and hired severall Retainers, but more especially an able Chyrurgion, who was a Batchelour, for whom she had more than a common kind­ness, and loving him so well, perswaded him to lodg in her house, that he might o­versee, and be continually ready to offer his assistance to those whose infected bo­dies stood in need of his medicament [...] [Page 126]But this Sun-shine must not continue long without some clouds, for now a crew of those disobliged Queans, whom she had cast off, with the accusations of those whom she had either abused or robbed, with the detestable enormities which spring from such wicked Exam­ples, came all with one voice before the Throne of Justice, not onely appealing for satisfaction, but secretly accusing with suspition of Murder. The Com­plaint was received, approved, and pitti­ed, and presently the City-Marshall, with other Officers, were dispatcht for her apprehension.

It being spread a broad what these Of­ficers of Justice were going about, they were follow'd by a great number of the younger fort, who hoopt and hollow'd strangely, thinking now they were going to the best of Pastimes. Coming near the place, the Corporall or Constable with a stout band of Halberdiers and Bill-men beleaguer'd this Fortress; and though the whole Body of the Rabble drew up in Battalia, she hung out her Flagg of defiance, and bids them enter at their peril; they which were fortified with double Armour, a good cause, and law­full Authority, scorning to be out-brav'd, [Page 127]prepare for an assault; she on the other side with her Devil incarnate, and she-Faries stand to receiv' [...]m. Never was combate for the time so dreadful as between these Assailants and Defenders: the first Scene in the first Act of the Mock Tempest, or Enchanted Castle represents not half the noise, horrour, and confusion they were involved in; what with Bar up the Doors, Bar up the Doors; another crying, Lets make all fast enough, and then let'em roar the Devils head off. Oaths and Curses were the Materials of the fiery Rain, which poured down upon the Affail­ants heads, whilst they cry out for Jour­dans full of water, to quench the flame of the inraged vulgar; but all to little pur­pose, for at length like a Sea they break in upon them, and overwhelme the Castle. Cornelia, the governess there­of, was the first Person seized; in the mean time her Man-Devil made his escape through one of the Posterns, her gaudy Crew were likewise laid hold on, and whilst they were carrying before a Ju­stice, the Rabble indeavour'd to pull down the house, but finding they could not easily do it, defaced it as much as they could, spoiling a great deal of good Goods, and so left it to those Menials, [Page 128]left to take careof it for the benefit of their Mystress, who with her hopeful Daughters, being examin'd before a Ju­stice, were found guilty of Crimes innu­merable, and therefore justly commit­ed the Mother to Newgate, and her Children to Bridewell; whose tender delicate backs, were there severely lasht, and afterwards dismist; but Cornelia was forc'd to suffer Confinement till her Triall at the Sessions-house in the Old Baily, where, I know not by what means, she found so much favour as to be acquitted of her Indictment, and had her liberty granted her. Having her freedome, the first thing she did was to remove her goods from her former house, and dismissing her servant [...], she resolved to lye private for a while, till she could find some expedient to renew her Occupa­tion.

Cornelia, finding she could not present­ly satisfy her Expectations, in taking a House that may fitly suit with her pur­pose, resolved she would not live idly (sat [...]us est male ager [...], quam nihil ager,) and therefore was willing to play at small Game rather than sit out. To this end, she joyn'd in Partnership with a famous Bawd of her acquaintance in Whetstones [Page 129]Park, with whom she lived peaceably above a Twelve-month, with little distur­bances from Justices, being in see with some of their Clerks.

Though Bawds and Whores are a sort of Cattel that can agree well enough against the common enemy, that is, to Rook and Cheat those that are Rogues and Fools that go among them; yet it is well known to all verss'd in those Myste­ries, that there have been continual feuds, and sometimes Civil Wars among them­selves, about sharing the wages of ini­quity.

Now Cornelia, she was looked upon as the chief Oracle of the Park whither resorted continually the Doe: for Advice in case of extremity, and was esteemed the most famous that ever the Sun did look upon, for her skill in that wicked Profession.

Cornelia, finding (by woful experi­ence) that the meretricious reputation of the Park, fell much to decay, by the de­crease of the famous Patroness thereof Nab C— and for want of prudent Con­duct in her infamous Successors, she left that place as too inglorious for her to in­habit in, by her subtile Inquisition, with advice of her cunning friends, (Profes­sors [Page 128]in the same wicked Occupation) she removed to a Place as difficult to finde out as the Head of Nilus, where now, as being not much antiquated, she re-as­sumes the Name of Miss, and acts ac­cordingly; and so endeavors by becom­ing Gallantry, to make her self a Help meet for any wealthy Prodigal, who will not be out of fashion to marry an honest woman; Or if he be contrary to the idle opinion of the looser Persons of this wicked Age, she knows how to be­nefit herself, by being a little side-Pillow, to render the Yoke of Matrimony more easie, and proves an excellent conveniency for such, who have more money then wit, who spend their estates upon her to her profit, and their own misery, and bring themselves by that means to the Stool of Repentance, which for ought I know, if the Person be truly penitent for his sins past, he may do well.

Nature (as I have told you before) gave her an incomparable countenance, furnished with the best of Creatures; neither was her stock of confidence, (which some call convenient boldness) deficient, which she, by prudent manage­ment hath now improved into impu­dence, though at some times, when she [Page 131]hath a design on foot that is prosit­able, she will seem more modest then a bashful blushing Maiden.

Though she is wicked enough of all conscience, yet I never could hear that she was so base and low-spirited, as to sally abroad in the night, to pick up drunken Fellows, and in a Tavern, whilst he was ever-busily employ'd, pick out the stragling Guinny's in his Pocket, or anything else that is valuable; she hath found out a far safer way, which she calls commendable, by perswading her Gallant to this opinion, That the blood cannot be always kept in a full Tyde, without extraordinary Treats and high feeding; by such like subtile insinua­tions, she hath perswaded many to keep her in a better equipage then they have done their wives; having costly Clothes, Rooms hung with the greatest Gallantry, and the variety of servants, male and female, to attend her, whom she hath taught to call her, Madam, that she may be look'd on as a Person of quality: In short, by long experi­ence, she hath arrived to so great a knowledge in this Profession, that there was never any subtile Whorish Inven­tion yet invented, of what she is ig­norant, [Page 132]and knows how to emprove them best to the Accomplishment of her desires; either as a rambling Di­nah, Trading or Coaching the streets, a Jael standing at the door, a Jezabel looking out of the window, or as an insatiate Messalina.

When the Appetites of her Gallants begin to be cloyed, their Purses ex­hausted, or their Eyes enlightned, and thereupon withdraw, she soon finds out some other Fool to bubble, with whom, for security sake, she will not Trade with­out a Pension per week, or sometimes an Annuity for life; and having Plurality of Gallants, commands what moneys she pleases, which she expends as Pro­fusely, for now the Gallantty of her high spirit will not stoop to the mean Arts of Frugality and good House­wifery,

She is now Arrived to a great height of unexpected glory, her Boys are in Livery, her House splendidly furnish'd, and rarely stirs abroad without Sedan or Coach, she glitters in the Boxes of the Play-houses, she draws all eyes af­ter her whereever she comes, to the a­mazement [Page 133]of vertuous Women, and en­couragement of the Vitious, who de­light only in Finery, costly Treats, Dan­cing, Singing, Balls, Masks, Masque­rades, Plays, Frolicks, Rambles, Assig­nations, and all manner of Idleness, in imi­tation of such a thriving Example.

I hear she is gone to Paris in company of one of her Gallants, to the intent, by her language and deportment she may pass for an Outlandish Miss: As you like this present Narrative, on her Re­turn you may hear more of her Life and Conversation.