When you approach, and preffing the foft. Hand,
Favours, with well-bred Impudence, demand,
Is it in Woman's Weakness to withstand?
Ceafe to be vain, and give the Sex their Due;
Our English Wives fhall prove this Story true:
We have our chafte Penelope's, who mourn
Their Widow'd Beds, and wait their Lords Return ;
We have our Heroes too, who bravely bear,
Far from their Home, the Dangers of the War;
Who careless of the Winter Season's Rage,
New Toils explore, and in new Cares engage;
From Realm to Realm their Chief unweary'd goes,
And reftless journies on, to give the World Repofe.
Such are the conftant Labours of the Sun,
Whofe active, glorious Courfe is never done;
And tho', when hence he parts, with us 'tis Night,
Still he goes on, and lends to other Worlds his Light.
Ye beauteous Nymphs, with open Arms prepare
To meet the Warriors, and reward their Care;
May you for ever kind and faithful prove,
And pay their Days of Toil with Nights of Love.
Spoke by Mrs. Bracegirdle.
UST going to take Water, at the Stairs
I ftopp'd, and came again to beg your Pray'rs;
You fee how ill my Love has been repaid,
That I am like to live and die a Maid;
Poetick Rules and Justice to maintain,
I to the Woods am order'd back again,
To Madam Cinthia, and her Virgin Train.
'Tis an uncomfortable Life they lead;
Inftead of Quilts and Down, the Silvan Bed
With Skins of Beafts, with Leaves and Mofs is fpread;
No Morning Toilets do their Chambers grace,
Where famous Pearl Cofmeticks find a Place,
With Powaer for the Teeth, and Plaister for the Face.
But in Defiance of Complexion, they,
Like arrant Houswives, rife by Break of Day,
Cut a brown Craft, faddle their Nags, and Mounting,
I fcorn of the green-Sickness ride a Hunting:
Your Sal, and Harts-horn Drops, they deal not in;
They have no Vapours, nor no witty Spleen.
No Coffee to be bad; and I am told,
As to the Tea, they drink, 'tis moftly cold.
For Converfation, nothing can be worse,
'Tis all among ft themselves, and that's the Curfe:
One Topick there, as here, does feldom fail,
We Women rarely want a Theme to rail 3
But bating that one Pleasure of Backbiting,
There is no earthly Thing they can delight in.
There are no Indian Houses, to drop in
And fancy Stuffs, and chufe a prety Screen,
To while away an Hour or so
These Cups are pretty, but they're deadly dear:
And if fome unexpected Friend appear,
The Devil!--- Who cou'd have thought to meet you
We should but very badly entertain
You that delight in Toafting and Champaign;
But keep your tender Perfons fafe at home, ·
We know you hate hard Riding: But if fome
Tough, honeft, Country Fox-Hunter would come,
Visit our Goddess, and her Maiden Court,
'Tis Ten to One but we may fhew him Sport.
Ulyffes, King of Ithaca, conceal'd for fome Time under the Name of
Agenor, : Pretenders to the Queen.
Ephialtes,
Telemachus, Son to Ulyffes and Penelope.
Antinous, a Nobleman of Ithaca, fecretly
in Love with the Queen.
Eumaus, an old Servant, and faithful to Ulysses.
Ceraunus, a Samian Officer belonging to Eurymachus.
Penelope, Queen of Ithaca.
Semanthe, Daughter to Eurymachus.
Several Samian and Ithacan Officers and Soldiers, with other Attendants, Men and Women.
Urge not the Honours of my Race
Divine, da Lav? at o' a
Call not to my Remembrance what
Born of Ulyffes, and deriv'd from fove;
For 'tis the Curfe of mighty Minds oppreft,
To think what their State is, and what it fhou'd be:
Impatient of their Lot they reafon fiercely,
And call the Laws of Providence unequal.
Men. And therefore wert thou bred to virtuous Know ledge,.
And Wisdom early planted in thy Soul,
That thou might'ft know to rule thy fiery Paffions,
To bind their Rage, and stay their headlong Course,
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