The Female Wits Part 2

_While Sinners took upon 'em to reform, And on the Stage laid the late dreadful Storm, Occasionally coming from the Crimes Of us, whose Drama's would instruct the Times.

We wonder'd Rebels who against the Crown, Justly draw all these heavy Judgments down, Should pa.s.s uncensur'd, unmolested stand, And be a heavy Judgment to the Land.

But they, Heav'ns bless 'em for their daily care, Have reconcil'd us now to Ale and Air: For Wine we know not, while the luckless. .h.i.t, Has taught us want of Laugh, and want of Wit.

But when the Observator's Wrath withdraws, And wanting Law instructs us in the Laws; How happy are we made, who well agree, To be laugh'd at by such a Fool as he.

Thanks to the Strumpets that would mask'd appear, We now in their True Colours see 'em here: False, I should say, for who e're saw before, A Woman in True Colours and a Wh.o.r.e?_

_But it is not our Business to be rude With Woman for the sake of m.u.f.fled Hood; We lik'd 'em not with Masks or with their Paints, Nor ever thought to baulk informing Saints.

They're welcome to us, when we're Peccant found, Their Understanding's safe as well as sound.

All that we strive to please are Good and Just; For Goodness ever we have ta'ne on Trust: But when we to true Virtue would appear, The Real Saints and not the False are here.

We're Regulary true to Royal Laws, We admire th' Effect and we adore the Cause.

All that we're proud of is, that we have seen,_ _Our_ Reformation _center in the Queen._

THE EPILOGUE.

_The Sermon ended, 'tis the Preacher's way For Blessings on the Auditors to pray, And Supplicate what Doctrines have been said, May thro' their Ears into their Hearts be laid.

So does our Poet in this sinful Age, (Not that the Pulpit's likened to the Stage) Fall to Pet.i.tion after Application, And beg that he may work a Reformation; May turn the side of Follies now in Course, And touch the guilty Scribe with due Remorse: That every Fool his Errors may reclaim, And take the Road of Pen and Ink to Fame._

_What here he writes to quash the Womens Pride, May to the Men with Justice be apply'd.

Each s.e.x is now so self-conceited grown, None can digest a Treat that's not their own.

So_ aesop'_s Monkey that his Off-spring brought, It's own the fairest of the Rivals thought; As it preferr'd deformity of Face To all the Beauties of the b.e.s.t.i.a.l Race._

_But Manners might have hinder'd him, you'll say, From Ridiculing Women in his Play, When his own s.e.x so very open lay.

Troth so he might, but as I said before, Wits do themselves, as Beaux, themselves adore; Your Man of Dress, your Dressing Female Apes, And doats upon their several Aires and Shapes: Fearful that what upon the s.e.x is cast, May on themselves stick scandalously fast._

_Not that the Good he'd with the Bad abuse, Or lessen the true value of a Muse; Since every Soul with Rapture must admire The tuneful Motions of the skilful Lyre.

But as the Shade adds Beauty to the Light, And helps to make it strike upon the Sight: So those whom he has made his Present Theme, a.s.sist to make us Poetry esteem, As we from what they are, distinctly see, And learn, what other Poets ought to be._

DRAMATIS PERSONae.

Mr. _Awdwell_, A Gentleman of Sense } Mr Mills.

and Education, in Love with _Marsilia_, }

Mr. _Praiseall_, A conceited, cowardly c.o.xcomb; } a Pretender likewise to _Marsilia_'s } Mr. Cibber.

Affections, }

_Fastin_, Son to Lord _Whimsical_, Husband } to _Isabella_, and in Love with his Father's } Mr. Powell.

Wife, }

_Amorous_, Steward to Lord _Whimsical_, and } in Love with _Isabella_, } Mr. Pinkethman.

Lord _Whiffle_, An empty Piece of Noise, } that always shews himself at Rehearsals } Mr. Thomas.

and in publick Places, }

Lord _Whimsicall_, Husband to Lady _Loveall_, Mr. Verbruggen.

WOMEN

_Marsilia_, A Poetess, that admires her own } Works, and a great Lover of Flattery, } Mrs. Verbruggen.

_Patience_, her Maid, } Mrs. Ess.e.x.

Mrs. _Wellfed_, One that represents a fat Female } Author, a good sociable well-natur'd } Companion, that will not suffer } Mrs. Powell.

Martyrdom rather than take off three } b.u.mpers in a Hand, }

_Calista_, A Lady that pretends to the learned } Languages, and a.s.sumes to her self } Mrs. Temple.

the Name of a Critick, }

_Isabella_, Wife to Fastin, and in Love with } _Amorous_, } Mrs. Cross.

Lady _Loveall_, Wife to Lord _Whimsical_, } and in Love with _Fastin_, } Mrs. Knight.

_Betty Useful_, A necessary Convenience of } a Maid to Lady _Loveall_, } Mrs. Kent.

ACT I.

SCENE a Dressing-Room, Table and Toylet Furnish'd, &c.

_Enter_ Marsilia _in a Night-Gown, followed by_ Patience.

_Mar._ Why, thou thoughtless inconsiderable Animal! Thou driv'ling dreaming Lump! Is it not past Nine o'Clock? Must not I be at the Rehearsal by Ten, Brainless? And here's a Toylet scarce half furnish'd!

_Pat._ I am about it, Madam.

_Mar._ Yes, like a Snail!----. Mount, my aspiring Spirit! Mount! Hit yon azure Roof, and justle G.o.ds! [_Repeats._

_Pat._ Madam, your things are ready.

_Mar._ Abominable! Intollerable! past enduring! [_Stamps._ Speak to me whilst I'm Repeating! Interrupting Wretch! What, a Thought more worth Than worlds of thee!----what a Thought have I lost!--Ay, ay, 'tis gone, 'tis gone beyond the Clouds. [_Cries._ Whither now, Mischievous? Do I use to Dress without Attendance? So, finely prepar'd, Mrs. Negligence! I never wear any Patches!

_Pat._ Madam.

_Mar._ I ask you if ever you saw me wear any Patches? Whose Cook maid wert thou prithee? The Barbarous Noise of thy Heels is enough to put the Melody of the Muses out of ones Head.----Almond Milk for my Hands.----Sower! By Heav'n this Monster designs to Poyson me.

_Pat._ Indeed, Madam; 'tis but just made; I wou'd not offer such an affront to those charming Hands for the World.

_Mar._ Commended by thee! I shall grow sick of 'em.----Well, but _Patty_, are not you vain enough to hope from the fragments of my Discourse you may pick up a Play? Come, be diligent, it might pa.s.s amongst a Crowd, And do as well as some of its Predecessors.