THE CHARACTER OF A Town-Miss.  
A Miss is a new Name, which the Civility of this Age bestows on one, that our unmannerly Ancestors called Whore and Strumpet. A certain Helpmeet for a Gentleman, instead of a Wife; Serving either fo● prevention of the Sin of Marrying, or else as a little Side Pillow; to render the Yoke of Matrimony more easy. She is an excellent Conveniency for those that have more Money than Wit, to spend their Estates upon; and the most that can be said in her Commendation, Is, that she will infallibly bring a Man to Repentance. Yet you may call her an honest Courtesan, or at least a Common Enclosed; for though she is an Out-lier, yet she seems to be confined within the Pale, and differs from your ordinary Prostitute, as Wholesale men from Retailers; one perhaps has an hundred Customers, and tother but Two or Three, and yet this gets most by her Trade. Indeed she may well thrive, seeing she always carries her Stock above her, and every man is desirous to deal in her Commodity: For she is a Gallant business, a Citizen's Recreation, a Lawyer's Estate in Fee-tail; a Young Doctors Necessary Experiment, and a Parson's comfortable importance.  
The Royal Preacher calls her a Strange Woman, but we usually term her a Common Woman, and have reason so to do, for sins that were strange in Solomon's days, are common in ours. She is a Caterpillar that destroys many a hopeful Young Gentleman in the Blossom, a Land-Syren far more dangerous than they in the Sea: For he that falls into her hands, runs a threefold hazard of Shipwracked Soul, Body, and Estate.  
She talks high of her Family, and tells a large story how they were Ruined by the late Wars. But the true History of her Life, is generally to this Effect: She is only the Cub of a Bumkin, licked into a Genteel form by Town-Conversation: Nature gave her a good Face, and an indifferent stock of Confidence, Which she by prudent management has improved into Impudence; like a forward Rose bud she openeth betimes, and lost that trifle they call a Maiden Head, so early, that she cannot remember she over had any such thing. She was scarce thirteen when her Father's Ploughman, and the Squire their Landlord (the verier Clown of the two) went Joint Tenants to her Copyhold; but proving with Child, she had the wit to lay it to the Last, who for his Credit, dispatched her Incognito, with a sum of Money on a Carrier's Pack, to be disburdened at London, the goodliest Forest in England, to shelter a great Belly. There the ban●ing was exposed to the Tuition of they Parish in a Hand-basket, and the Charitable Midwife (who counts procuring in a civil way, a necessary part of her Office) soon brought her acquainted with a third Rate Gentlewoman, who took her a Lodging in a Garret, and allowed her six Shillings a Week. But making a Sally abroad one Night, picked up a Drunken Cully, and at a Tavern (whilst he was no less pleasantly employed) picked his pocket of a Gold Watch, and some straggling Guinnies, and left him to pawn his Sword and Periwig for the Reckoning. After this lucky Adventure, she discards Monsieur shabby (her former Customer) and her Lofty Lodging; puts herself in a good Garb, gets a Maid (forgive me, for I Lie, I mean a Shee-servant) whom she teaches to call her Madam, and your Honour, and hires Noble Rooms richly Furnished, about ; there she takes State upon her, and practices every day four hours in the Glass, how Greatness will become her. Her first business is to make herself to be taken notice of, to which purpose like Dinah, she walks the Streets; sometimes like Jael, she stands at the Door; and sometimes like Jezabel, she looks out at the Window: But her main Marketplace is the Balcony, which she frequents as constantly as any Lady in a Romance; and the Language of her Eyes is, What do you lack Sir? By which she at last attracts a, Wealthy Gallant, who with a little Address, obtains the mighty Honour of her Acquaintance; but she seems extreme Nice, Reserved and Modest, protests she would not go to a Tavern for a World, when the whole business is, she is only afraid of being Pawned there. In brief, she Manages him so discreetly, that she Cheats him into Love Insensibly, like a Taylors-Bill, wherein a man sees himself Rooked abominably, yet knows not where to find fault. Having thus got the Wodcook into the Pitfall, she resolves to Pluck him: When he importunes her for the Great Kindness, she talks of Honour and Conscience, and vows she will never slain her Reputation but for valuable Considerations: this brings them to Articles, he promises to allow her a Hundred and fifty pounds a Year, and she Swears a thousand dissembling Oaths, how infinitely she loves him, and that she will prove constant, and true to him alone, and never be concerned with any other man in the World; and the silly Fop is so fatally bewitched as to believe her; And continues along time in that fool's Paradise of Dotage, whilst in the mean time she drives a Trade privately, with two or three more. For the Concealing of which from the first, 'tis the whole Employ of the little Harlotry, her Chambermaid, to study Lies, Pretences and Excuses, and she makes them pay her even to Extortion; to quicken her Invention; Sometimes she is gone abroad in her Aunt's Coach; Sometimes one of her Cousins, a Woken Draper's Wife in the City is Sick, and she must Visit her. Not is Madam herself less full of Plot and Intrigue to Bubble her Gallant: Sometimes having pleased him well, she begs the best Ring he has on his finger, or pretends herself to be in Debt; and that unless he will suffer her to be Scandalised with an Arrect, Bound he must be for her) to one of her Confederates you may be sure) for fifty pound, and the everlasting Changeling; cannot find in his heart to deny her: At other times she shall purposely give him occasion to be Jealous, and when he has Raved and Swore, and Cursed and Ranted for two hours, as if he had been possessed with a hundred and fifty Devils, she shall cleaverly wipe off the Suspicion, upbraid his Jealous Coxcomb-ship; fall a Sniviling, and call herself the most unfortunate of Women, to love a man with so much Passion, that thus abuses her: Then he submits, begs her Pardon on his Knees, and Coakses her with all imaginable kindness; but still she pouts, looks Sullen, and will not let him have a bit of that same, till he has given her a New Gown, or a Necklace of Pearl, for Atonement, and Reconciliation.  
But in time, his Appetite being Cloyed, his Purse exhausted, or his Eyes enlightened, he gins to withdraw, and she soon finds out another, a verrier Fool than he; but for Security, will not Trade, unless he settle an Annuity of 300 l. a Year on her for Life; which being firmly done by an able Conveyancer in Sheepskins, half as large as the Premises: Within one Month she abandons him for a more Noble and Strenuous Gallant. And now being arrived at the Zenith of her Glory, she has her Boys in Livery, her House splendidly furnished, and scorns to stir abroad without a Coach and six Horses: She glitters in the Boxes at the Play house, and draws all Eyes after her in the Street, to the shame and Confusion of all honest Women, and Encouragement of each pretty Girl that loves fine , good Cheer, and Idleness, to turn Harlot, in Imitation of such a thriving Example.  
She takes upon her, more Pride, than would have served six of Queen Elizabeth's Countesses; uses Sirrah at every word, and to a Lady of the best Qualtiy, and Old enough to be her Mother: Nothing but— I tell the sweetheart! She despises her Sister, for losing her Reputation, by being kept by a meaner Gallant than her own; and gets one to attempt to Steal her, that she may be thought an extraordinary Fortune.  
She hath always two necessary Implements about her, a Blackmore, and a little Dog; for without these, she would be neither Fair nor Sweet: The rest of her Retinue consists of her She-Secretary, that keeps the Box of her Teeth, her Hair, and her Painting. An Old Trot, that understands the Town, and goes between Party and Party, and a French Merchant to supply her with Dildoes; or in default of those, she makes her Gallants Purse maintain two able Stallions (that she loves better than him) for performance of points wherein he is Defective. Her Skin is much Clearer than her Conscience, which makes her go with her Neck and shoulders Bare; and she has reason; for her upper Parts are the shop of Cupid, and those below, his Warehouse: But all that you are like to buy there, is Damnation, and Diseases. She is a very Butcher, that exposes her own Flesh to Sale by the Stone; or if you please, a Cook that is Dressing herself all day with poignant Sauces, to be tasted with the better Appetite at Night. Like a Disabled Frigate, that has received many Shots between Wind and Water, She is forced once a year to put in at Tunbridg, or Epsom, to Wash and Tallow, and Refit her Leaky Bottom: after which, she Cruises up and down the Town as briskly as ever; till Age spoil her Sailing, and engraves Wrinkles, where she once Painted Roses: Then her former Adorers despise her, the World hates her, and she becomes a Loathsome thing, too unclean to enter into Heaven; too Diseased to continue long upon Earth; and too foul to be touched with any thing but a Pen, or a pair of Tongues: And therefore 'tis time to Leave her;— For, Foh, how she stinks.  
FINIS.   

LONDON, Printed for Rowland Reynolds in the Strand, 1680.