220
Nor are these master-strokes of beauty
To be perform’d without hard duty,
Which, when they’re nobly done and well,
The simple natural excell. 
How fair and sweet the planted rose 225
Beyond the wild in hedges grows! 
For without art the noblest seeds
Of flow’rs degen’rate into weeds. 
How dull and rugged, e’re ’tis ground
And polish’d, looks a diamond! 230
Though Paradise were e’er so fair,
It was not kept so without care. 
The whole world, without art and dress,
Would be but one great wilderness;
And mankind but a savage herd, 235
For all that nature has conferr’d. 
This does but rough-hew, and design;
Leaves art to polish and refine. 
Though women first were made for men,
Yet men were made for them agen; 240
For when (outwitted by his wife)
Man first turn’d tenant but for life,
If women had not interven’d,
How soon had mankind had an end! 
And that it is in being yet, 245
To us alone you are in debt. 
And where’s your liberty of choice,
And our unnatural No Voice? 
Since all the privilege you boast,
And falsly usurp’d, or vainly lost, 250
Is now our right; to whose creation
You owe your happy restoration: 
And if we had not weighty cause
To not appear, in making laws,
We could, in spite of all your tricks, 255
And shallow, formal politicks,
Force you our managements t’ obey,
As we to yours (in shew) give way. 
Hence ’tis that, while you vainly strive
T’ advance your high prerogative, 260
You basely, after all your braves,
Submit, and own yourselves our slaves;
And ’cause we do not make it known,
Nor publickly our int’rest own,
Like sots, suppose we have no shares 265
In ord’ring you and your affairs;
When all your empire and command
You have from us at second hand
As if a pilot, that appears
To sit still only while he steers, 270
And does not make a noise and stir
Like ev’ry common mariner,
Knew nothing of the card, nor star,
And did not guide the man of war;
Nor we, because we don’t appear 275
In councils, do not govern there;
While, like the mighty Prester John,
Whose person none dares look upon,
But is preserv’d in close disguise,
From being made cheap to vulgar eyes, 280
W’ enjoy as large a pow’r unseen,
To govern him, as he does men;
And in the right of our Pope Joan,
Make Emp’rors at our feet fall down;
Or Joan de Pucel’s braver name, 285
Our right to arms and conduct claim;
Who, though a Spinster, yet was able
To serve France for a Grand Constable.