But ’tis my Fate to have to do with Fools,
Who’re very loth and shy to use their Tools,
To ease a poor, and fond distressed Maid,
Of that same Load, of which I’m not afrad
To lose with any Man, tho’ I should die,
For any Tooth (good Barber) is my Cry.

The Fifteenth Plague.

  Alas!  I care not, Sir, what Force you’d use,

So I my Maiden-head could quickly lose: 
Oft do I wish one skill’d in Cupid’s Arts,
Would quickly dive into my secret Parts;
For as I am, at Home all sorts of Weather,
I kit,——­as Heaven and Earth would come together,
Twirling a Wheel, I sit at home, hum drum,
And spit away my Nature on my Thumb;
Whilst those that Marry’d are, invited be
To Labours, Christnings, where the Jollitry
Of Women lies in telling, as some say,
When ’twas they did at Hoity-Toity play;
Whose Husband’s Yard is longest, whilst another
Can’t in the least her great Misfortune smother,
So tells, her Husband’s Bauble is so short,
That when he Hunts, he never shews her Sport. 
Now I, because I have my Maiden-head,
Mayn’t know the Pastimes of the Nuptial Bed;
But mayn’t I quickly do as Marry’d People may,
I’ll either kill my self, or shortly run away.

FINIS.

* * * * *

The Maids Vindication:

OR, THE

Fifteen Comforts of living a Single Life.

Being an ANSWER to the Fifteen
Plagues of a Maiden-head.

Written by a Gentlewoman.

[Illustration]

London, Printed for J.  Rogers in Fleet-Street, 1707.

The Maids Vindication:

OR,

The Fifteen Comforts of
being a Maid, _&c._

The First Comfort.

  Ye British Maids with British Beauty blest,

Wife as you’re Fair, of ev’ry Grace possest,
Do not the least degenerate from your Worth,
Nor be less Chaste because you’re thus set forth;
Have Patience then, and I’ll revenge your Cause,
And all the deep Designs of wicked Men expose,
Shew the dear Comforts of a Single Life,
With all the Plagues and Ills of Wh——­re or Wife.

The Second Comfort.

  Tell me you Grave Disputers of the Schools,

You learned Coxcombs, and you well read Fools;
You that have told us, Man must be our Head,
And made Dame Nature Pimp to what you’ve said,
Tell me where are the Joys of womans Life,
When she consents to be a wedded Wife: 
Much less if she too kind and easie proves,
And grants her Heart to one that swears he loves,
I will not call her W——­re, because I know
’Twas his false Oaths and Lyes that made her so: 
But you that would to your own selves be just,
Nor Friend nor Husband but with caution trust.