The Ninth Pleasure of a Town Life.

This has some Jilt for a long time sustain’d, Who has Imperious o’er his Pocket reign’d; At length grown weary of so loose a Life, Or for some other Cause, he takes a wife:  The Jilt now like a Fury flings and tears, Ten thousand Oaths to be reveng’d she swears:  Threatens to come before his very Door, For Whores are plagues that never give you o’er:  There in the open Street to act the Scene, And let the World know what a Spark he’s been:  This; may be some fair promises prevents, If constantly attended with the pence; For Whores and Fidlers this one Rule advance, Of old; no longer Pipe, no longer Dance.  But if the Promis’d Pension he withdraws, The Fury then again Exerts her Claws:  Thus he a charge, continual intails, Besides the Curse, the Noise, and all things else;

The Tenth Pleasure of a Town Life,

Another Harlot works by various means, And acts a Jilt’s true part behind the Scenes, [*?]nds the kind Bubble of a pliant Size, And Spreads a subtle Net to catch her Prize, With greater ease to drive him in the same, She first obtains his Residence, and Name, Two useful Perquisites for her design; The Shallow Easie Fop to undermine; A Mesiage next she sends to let him know, Convey’d by some such useful Rogue as R——­w; That she’s with Child—­and by the Love she bore, It must be him—­for she was never so before.  Which he with wonderful Surprize receives, And for the present some few Guineas gives, Thus he’s impos’d on by a wretched Cheat, And er’e he finds it out; pays dearly for his Wit.

The Eleventh Pleasure of a Town Life.

Nor this alone Debauch’ry comprehends, The forward Age to other vice descends, And Youth e’re he’as attain’d good Sence to think, Addicts himself with Pride, to swear and drink:  [*?]’s Rules Immoral from Example take, And e’re he’s turn’d of fifteen, turns a Rake:  [*?]ots in Sin—­(nothing that’s Lewd shall scape And on his Virgin Health commits a Rape, Forsaking Reason—­grows to Vice a Slave, And e’r he’s Thirty drops into his Grave.

The Twelfth Plague of a Town Life,

Another has a better Progress made, And binds himself Apprentice to the Trade; A parboyl’d Sot, without one Spark of Grace, Whose nightly Sins are number’d on his Face:  Which with the Rags upon his back make out, The very Arms and Ensigns of a Sot:  Who like a Rat into Some Corner goes, And dies Unpittied both by Friends and Foes.

The Thirteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.

What do’s that Man deserve? to whom his Fate; Has given an ample Stock or an Estate?  (That has, perhaps, besides a tender Wife; Yet into Riot and Excess do’s fall, And in debauchery consumes it all?  And to his Sure Destruction makes such hast; He do’s in Body, with his Substance waste:  Lives till he want what he had misemply’d And is like one that God had curs’d, Destroy’d.

The Fourteenth Pleasure of a Town Life.