THE Whore's Rhetoric, Calculated to the Meridian OF LONDON; And conformed to the Rules of Art.  
In two Dialogues.  

Id vero est, quod ego mihi puto palmarium,  
Me reperisse, quomodo adoloscentulus  
Meretricum ingenia, & mores posset noscere:  
Maturè ut cum cognorit, perpetuo oderit.   

Nosse omnia haec, salus est adolocentulis.   Terent. Eunuchus. 
LONDON, Printed for George Shell in Stone-Cutter-Street in Shoe-Laine. 1683.   

To the most famous University of London-Courtezans.  
TO no others than you (fair Ladies) ought this Book to address itself, if it be true, that every thing does naturally tend to its proper sphere. You will here find a Register of your own Triumphs, it were therefore injustice to suffer these painted Sheets to borrow their lustre from any other patronage than your bright selves. You ever prove exquisite Artists in your own Profession, and can with great dexterity varnish over your imperfections, whether natural, or casually acquired in the exercise of your own Vocation: Your Author is sensible of failings in both these kinds, and seeing he wants artifice to give his natural, or adventitious parts a fair gloss, to impose at once, as you do, on the eyes and understandings of men, he desires your kind assistance to pass his Ware as fresh, sound and beautiful, because it is with all possible zeal consecrated to your service. Though I never had the honour to receive any marks of your favour, or to be signalised by wearing your badge, yet I have here boldly adventured to desire your favourable Protection, as if I were an old Servant, that had lost my Blood in fight your Battles, and endured the fatigue of many dangerous Sieges: if my ignorance does not permit me to pay my Devotion in the usual form; it is hoped you will accept of this Rhetoric, as an atonement for my want of Faith and Charity at the Worship of your Shrines. If my youthful inexperience has hindered me from placing your honourable Ensigns in the right place, where some people on the sunny-side the Globe, do their Jewels: if I have not honoured you with a flat Nose, pray be pleased (fair ones) to accept the Tribute of a flat Pen. It would however be a little hard to expect this rigorous duty of your humble Servant, because I have weak E●e● that may soon require the 〈◊〉 and of Spectacles, which cannot be supported if once the Bridge were taken away. You have at this instant got the Maidenhead of my officious scribbling Instrument, as you have some years since, the Virginity of another Quill. The Ink of this is black and smutty, but that of the other was of a more innocent and pleasing colour; though after having been improved by your conversation, it changed once its native Simplicity for the variety of all the colours in the Rainbow, or the greater diversity of a Peacock's Train. There is another difference between these two Alembecks: Bacchus makes the one to flow in exuberant and fruitful showers; but he cruelly seals up the others mouth, that it cannot drop into one tear.  
I have wisely chose your protection for this Book, because I would not be thought to expect the ten Guinea's Fee for a mercenary Dedication: All the world will clear this from any guilt of that nature, seeing it is directed to Ladies, who seldom express their generosity in these terms. I have likewise thought it a piece of providence to make you patronise this minute Volumn, to save my Pen the trouble of acting the Sycophant in a long and nauseous Epistle, according to the modern precedents. You have without the help of an Author, made yourselves famous in the World: your Virtues are conspicuous to all Eyes, and palpable by all hands too: your perfections are the common Theme of the people, and your graces are daily exposed to public view. Who can enough admire your Christian humility in being willing to edify with your Doctrine, the dregs of men? your affability, in being all things to all men that come in your way? and your hospitality for opening your doors to Porters and Carmen? Your charity is sufficient to cover a multitude of sins, as diffusive as that of the Sun, to every body that will appear abroad, or dares but once to ask the Question; you are at all times inclined to mercy and forgiveness, if your Votary will express his sorrow in a golden Tear. The Bloody Sacrifice is the last part of this Ceremony, and still subsequent to the rich oblation: but which is most of all, your Chastity is no less remarkable than your other Virtues. Your Lusts and Carnal affections are wholly mortified, and you are become by your industry and fervent application as insensible of sensitive pleasure, as if you were made of Wood or Stone: surely you have in this particular, outdone the severest Moralist, or the most Holy of the Primitive Fathers, who never could subjugate their Bodies to that degree you have done, as not to be once pricked with the Thorn in the Flesh. You have methinks taken the same course to arrive at this meritorious piece of supererogation, as the Fruiterer does to save his Raisins; He makes his young Apprentice surfeit at his first days sitting behind the Counter, that he may be sure to have no gusto that way for the future.  
I protest (sweet Creatures) to you stored with all the moral Virtues, and not deficient in one Theological Grace, saving that you may seem sometimes to want Faith: Some think you should believe your Customers on the Credit of their word, after having received good store of their ready Money. Instead of this you look on things with a providential Eye, as Rats do the fall of a ruinous House, or a rotten Ship: you can foresee the downfall of any Servant, and leave him, as Heaven sometimes does, to himself. Whilst the Gentleman is willing to purchase the Soil at any rate, you suffer him to sow the Seed; what he commonly reaps, you are best able to give an account of: and he that would grind with you, must pay the Toll before hand, even before he is permitted to bring his Grist to the Mill. However if you are a little void of this believing quality, if you have no large proportion of faith, you are so well stocked with good works, that you may be excused the want of this unactive Grace. Nature has been in all points extreme kind to you all, that are indeed so worthy a part of her own Sex; she has been more than partial in endowing you with such capacious talents, which the scantlings of our curt understandings can never reach. Poor ignorant man can scarce penetrate beyond a superficial discovery of that profound Fountain of Knowledge whereof you are Mistresses: and by a strange unheard of Parodox, those precious mines of solid learning are in your tender virginal years most inaccessible to the best efforts of feeble man.  
The Author hopes you will not treat him after your usual manner, but that you will excuse him from that rigorous impost you exact of Strangers, and admit him into the Pit without the necessity of coming with a golden Ticket. If you become free of your amorous caresses, he promises to regulate himself to the vulgar Proverb, which forbids us to look a gift-Horse in the Mouth. He says, he'll take you all for fair, virtuous, and honest; though in so doing, you yourselves will swear he is troubled with a very adventurous and implicit Faith, large enough for himself and you too. If the following leaves do supply the room of a Pack of Cards, to increase your Tribute, by cheating the loving Gamesters; it is hoped you will grant me liberty to trade, though I cannot properly as one of your body politic, yet very well as an interloping Merchant. This is a Privilege the meanest poetical Dauber claims from both the Theatres, who possibly never appears on the Stage after his own night, nor ever thought of, unless by the balked Bookseller: if I have merited no better of you than some of these Gentlemen do of the Stage, may I be eternally banished your Parnassus, may I die anathematised in a full Convocation of the Trading Ladies; and lastly, may Whetstones-Park scorn to save my longing, with the favour of a single Kiss.  
The only way I know to save the credit of my green Quill, is to make it resemble as much as possible those patterns of perfection, that are made the subject of the following Discourse. A little of that sharpness you inspire into your Lover's Urine, would give my periods a grateful relish: and a small proportion of that Mercury, you procure for the Salivation of your faithful Servants, would sublimate my fancy beyond the feculent dregs of matter, which at present do strangely retard its motion. But why should I borrow any of these transcendent qualities from your amorous Slaves, seeing they have them but at second hand; they are in them but a faint reflection of that light, the Fountain whereof springs from the charming centre of your Microcosm. My last Prayer shall therefore be, That as I have chose you for a Theme, so I may in all points imitate these fair Ideas; may every line be as poignant as an embrace of yours, and each Sentence, like you, carry a sting in its tail.  
In fine (Ladies) it is hoped, I have like a faithful Dedicator done your profession, and myself what right, the rules of Justice and Reason could prescribe. I have been only wanting in two particulars essential to a Dedication, those are flattery, and fragments of Latin or French Verses: your modesty so notorious to all the World, has superseded the one, and my own inabilities have saved you the trouble of the other. Since than it were a sin to part Modesty and Plaindealing, nay impossible, because the moral Virtues are linked together by a strong Chain, I presume you may be thought the fittest Patronesses for  
Your most Devoted, most Faithful, and most Obedient Servant, because Philo-Puttanus.   

THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.  
MEN do for the most part take the same measures, and are guided by the same principles of Fancy and Opinion, in their choice of Books, as in that of Women: for as the beauty of the one does in a great measure depend on the imagination of a generous Lover; So the other in like manner is forced to borrow a good part of its Value and Lustre from the bounty of the Courteous Reader. There are indeed some Women, who do in an extraordinary manner enjoy the effects of Nature's bounty, to whom she has been so profuse in her dispensations, that she is necessitated to use a rigorous Patrimony to become a Stepdame to the rest of the weaker Sex; there are, I say, some few Pandora's in the World, who have in all parts received the favourable touch of a divine Hand, whose perfections being but just less than infinite, their attractions must be so too.  
Who ever then would pretend with his Pen, to gratify all Mankind; whoever would aspire to compose a Regal, adapted to every Man's palate, (I mean such as have not lost their taste) must be sure to have at all times these patterns of perfection before his Eyes, his lines must be drawn to the same perfection those others are in the Lady's face; there must be a perfect symmetry and proportion observed in every part of his composition, else he will infallibly come short of imitating the complete Idea he has set before him. Beside these extrinsic ornaments, these out side embellishments (which are as indispensably necessary in a writer, as a gentile dress to render a Female all agreeable) special care must be taken to infuse such a lively, brisk, and vigorous Spirit into the mass of matter, as may in all points correspond to the vivacity of the Ladies Soul. A judicious writer will ever follow the example of Bees, and not of Frogs; he will like an expert Chemist, so order the most abject, the most indisposed matter, as to extract thence both pleasure and advantage. By the observance of this precept an Author may reap the Fruit of singular merit; may deserve an universal applause, by well handling the most trivial, the most inconsiderable subject. A Painter shows no less of his skill, and may give as bold a stroke in drawing a deformed Antique, as in delineating the Picture of Venus. Where the Original is faulty and imperfect, a more than ordinary art is requisite to make the draught but moderately pleasing: on this score it is I would challenge the Readers excuse, and lessen his wonder at this extravagance, whilst he finds in the subsequent leaves, all the tenets of an infamous Profession. Some will believe it an act of Charity, to instruct an ignorant Brute, much more than those of our own species; and it may seem no small encouragement to the Author, to be already assured of very docil and towardly Scholars.  
It were superfluous here to borrow any Arguments founded on reason, or the Authority of the Ancients. The Moralist tells us; In medio sita est Virtus; that is, He is the most virtuous man, who preserving himself indifferently between the two extremes of good and evil, knows how to apply himself to one or the other, with equal spirit and equal success, as the design in hand may seem to require: If we look into the practice of the Ancients, or those of later times, we shall ever find this trade receiving all possible encouragement. The best governed, and the most Catholic Cities now in the World, do grant it, if not a public toleration, yet at least a civil and sufficient connivance. Many Men have been industrious to improve the Military Art, and invent new ways of framing warlike Engines; all which tend to no less than the slaughter and destruction of humane Bodies: why should it then seem strange, or unbecoming to conduct poor ignorant Women into the Road of knowledge, to acquaint them with the Rules of a Profession convenient, nay which has been found necessary in all Commonwealths and civil Societies of Mankind. But to be a little serious in my Apology, Every prudent man will be solicitous to know all the mysteries of this Trade, by the ill effects the ignorance of it has produced in others: that so being informed in the criterium of the unsound Ware, and the Buona Robba, in the differences of good and evil; he may thereby learn how to correspond with the one, or at least how to detest and avoid the other. Wholesome and salutiferous Medicines are produced out of the most dangerous poisons, if judiciously compounded and seasonably applied. The skilful in Simples do think it equally necessary to understand the nature of poisonous and destructive Herbs, as those which do more immediately tend to the health and nutriment of Man. The learned Physician ought to be conversant in the knowledge of dangerous and pernicious maladies, as well as in remedies and receipts; in as much as without understanding the cause of the one, it would be impossible to ground any judgement in the choice of the other. The expert Pilot does ever make it his chief care to know the lurking places of Sholes, Rocks, and dangerous Sands, and this is no less necessary than the being informed in the dextrous management of the Ship itself. The Modern Politicians do judge it highly necessary to be acquainted with all the subtleties in Machiavelli, with Guicciardin's, and Boccalin's sage Advertisements to the end they may be able to defend themselves from cheats and slurs, which are , no● only usual in affairs of State; bu● very ordinary likewise in private affairs, in the civil Societies o● men. When I was at the University, and entering on the Sophistical part of Logic, my Tutor (I remember) gave me this preliminary caution. Young Man, say he, you are now to receive my Instructions in a dangerous part of Learning: But before I proceed (i● de ignotis Sermo sit) I must explain the nature and meaning of th● Word: Sophista the● is derive● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and signifies no mor● in English than a Teacher of Wisdom; the name was honourable o● old times, and applied to any people that was skilful in his own profession, whether Musician, Orator, Poet, or more especially Philosopher; but when these Artists became mercenary, and instead of true reason, and solid learning, taught their Scholars nothing but crafty and subtle questions, and how to impose on the World with some new juggle or legerdemain; the title of Sophister became infamous likewise. It may be objected (continued he) that this learning of Sophisms cannot be necessary, after knowing the true ways of arguing, in as much as contraries do illustrate one another, and that Rectum & sui, & obliqui norma est: To this I must tell you, if Sophisms did appear in their own colours, than that rule might very well hold. But alas! These false and deceitful Syllogisms, like Wolves in Sheep's clothing do ever appear in sincere and honest habiliments. Things being thus explained, the necessity (pray mind me) of understanding these fallacious Arguments is very great; not that we should impose on others, but lest others should impose on us. My advice and caution to you is this: When you shall by my care and industry arrive at a perfect knowledge in this cheating trade, I beseech you (Boy) take heed, take, I say, a more especial care not to pervert your knowledge, that you make it not subservient to base and ignoble ends. If you happen to study the Law; I fear you will forget the concern of your own reputation and my precepts; or if you remember them, that will but enhance your guilt, and my dishonour, if you do not act conformably to your knowledge. These documents (having first begged his forgiveness for the excursion, though not impertinent to the present business) I leave the Reader, and in the same manner (saving the academical Pedantry) do I desire he will peruse this short piece. The foolish Fish can despise the allurements of the sweetest bait, and avoid the danger, if but part of the deadly hook be exposed to view: and so can the most inconsiderate Bird the snare of the Fowler, if the gin be laid in an open place. Read then this Book to expose all the tricks, and all the finesses you can find therein; carry it in your pockets, as some do the pictures of poor Animals rotten with the Venereal distemper, to make you detest those Monsters, who can destroy miserable man with a single embrace. Remember if the Whores are hence taught to exercise their talents with some dexterity; you are the same time instructed to detect and avoid the cheat. Let your aversion to them and their profession, equally increase with their frauds; and may every new net they frame to catch you in, in proportion augment your vigilance and care: double your guards, and have a care the Sentinel sleep not, lest in the interim the enemy rifle him, he awake with an empty Pocket; and it is well he comes of with whole Bones, and the loss of some part of his Blood.  
I have given this small contexture the name of a Rhetoric; i● being that which makes an absolute Orator, whom I have said, th● Whore must imitate in many particulars. I know it will not relish well with some palates, as not being served up in a scurrilous an● obscene dish, which they suppos● an essential dress to what ever writ on this subject. The Author is not of this persuasion, he coul● have been bawdy and profane, b● detests both; he believes ribaldry nauseous in whose mouth soever receives a being; he protests 〈◊〉 hate it even in a Whore, more than a daubed face, and in the same degree with a stinking breath. He says he could have been more particular in the Lady's Rhetoric than he is in the subsequent lectures: but as a worthy Divine of the Church of England says, describing the Vices of the age (in which pure Church Philo Puttanus disclaims all interest) Thus much is abundantly sufficient on this occasion, lest the Author should be thought acquainted with those persons he delineated so much to the life.  
If this piece be imperfect and weak in what it pretends, if the Whore's profession be nothing advanced by it, than the age can receive no prejudice this way; for as much as there is no collateral obscenity to infect the world. But on the other hand, if it bears some proportion with its name and title, if the young Lady is made wiser and improved a degree beyond the dictates of natural Logic: The Author on this score also stands upon his innocence, and pleads not guilty. We find by History and late experience, that a small number of Men is lost in War since the Art Military has been advanced, since the Modern ways of Fortifications were found out, and that both parties are wisely taught strongly to Entrench, to stand upon their Guard, and by stratagem to starve or tyre the Enemy: In like manner if this Rhetoric has elevated the bawdy Science above its ordinary sphere, if the Warfare of Venus be made hereby more regular and more methodical; both Combatants, the Masculine besieger, and the besieged Female are informed of one another's designs, and so by easy consequence to shun the danger and hazard of a Battle. The Author has the vanity to believe the last part of the Dilemma true, and that these few sheets (though comprised within the terms of a decent civility may be comprehensive enough to supersede any lewd revelling on the same subject.   

THE Introduction.  
IN England's famous Metropolis, not far from the Piazzas in Covent-Garden, there dwelled a young and most beautiful Virgin: who by the poverty and indigence of her Parents was obliged to one continued retirement. This Fair Maid had scarce as yet that blessing of Providence fulfilled in her person, who promised the Sun should shine on all mankind, laying aside the distinction of good and evil. The want of ornaments suitable to her age, sex and quality, were motives strong enough to engage her in this sad and miserable confinement: but alas! this fair Creature's Fate was yet much harder: she wanted even that provision of necessary attire, sufficient to repulse the injuries of heat and cold. Dorothea's Father (for so was the fair one called) had much more Nobility in his Veins than Money in his Purse; and for the support of a numerous Issue, that angry Heaven had bestowed upon him; there was nothing left, but the honour of his Family, and the memory of his own brave actions. It was his fortune, or choice rather, from the beginning of the late intestine broils, to have embarked himself in Caesar's quarrel: the Estate his Father left him, and which had continued in his Family some hundreds of years had suffered the same rigorous destiny, that his royal Master had first undergone. So when Brutus had washed his hands in that Sacred Blood; and when the true Augustus (for there needed no adoption) by the unanimous prayers and desires of all his Vassals, had seated himself on his Father's Throne, this Gentleman then expected some thing more than a return of the Golden Age: he thought there was something due to the merit of his services, that might have superseded a tedious attendance, and take away any necessity of turning suppliant, or offering up a begging petition; but what a wonderful and surprising disappointment was it! when he thought his misery had been at an end, to see a new scene of troubles appearing to him more tormenting, and more dreadful than the first. He began to think, the doctrine of invoking Saints, was nothing improbable, in that he had experimented the necessity on't in his own person. His attempts proved notwithstanding equally insuccessful that way, with his former endeavours: in as much as he wanted a Golden sacrifice to mollify the Saint's Heart: finding then these Parasites deaf to all his entreaties, inexorable after all his Prayers; he is finally resolved to make a bold attack on Jupiter himself; from him he found a reception full of mercy, goodness, and generosity, even like the Fountain from whence it flowed: but there casually happened a fair Danae in the way, that received some part of the Golden Shower, and intercepted for some time the rays of that sacred influence. This unfortunate Gentleman's miserable Family had occasion much more to yawn, for want of Bread, than excess of Sleep; and were forced to be very frequent in blessing themselves, lest the Devil should enter their Bodies, as being for the most part defenceless, and empty Houses. The revolutions, Philosophers talk of on occasion of a vacuum; rather than suffer which, angry Nature would invert the Universe; were ofttimes found true in these unhappy persons, who in their empty Guts found the effects of nature's wrath in a horrid grumbling, and an extraordinary confused noise. The Peripatetics give us to believe, if two Walls were placed opposite to one another; and the Air extracted from between them, Nature would in an instant bring them both level with the Ground, or make the two Walls meet, and lovingly embrace each other: By all which I presume they mean no more than this, and what is signified in the vulgar Proverb, That the nature of a hungry Belly has a mighty antipathy to Stone Walls. The Male part of this disconsolate Family, by divers Arts and Shifts to be exercised in that spacious City, made it their business to avoid these inconvenient and griping hardships: but poor distressed Dorothea, her sex not permitting her to keep her Brother's company in their frequent sallies, was of the rest, in the most deplorable state: she wanted it seems, a necessary point of Faith, being equally destitute of Food and Raiment. The pressing wants this Virgin had undergone, had sufficiently armed against all Cupid's darts, and all the dangerous effects of love; Ceres and Bacchus the essential supports of an amorous flame, had been hitherto this fair Maids implacable enemies; what small favours she had received from that Rural Goddess, had such a strong mixture of Gall and Wormwood, as too too much embittered the benefit, to deserve the tribute of a mean thanksgiving. Among all the Gods and Goddesses, Thetis only remained her constant and faithful Friend, and her she paid in her own Coin with daily offerings of sacred Vestal Tears.  
One day (and it was that dedicated to St. George, and by us particularly celebrated in memory of our great King's Coronation, whom Heaven preserve) was the pensive Dorothea left alone in the House to contemplate her own misery and misfortune; She stood at a Window that looked into the Street, which yet scarce afforded her sight the benefit of the passing objects, it being almost choked up by a jealous wall that engrossed the fair Dorothea's looks, hindered all that passed from the enjoyment of that charming vision, and deprived the unfortunate Maid of opportunity to gratify her eyes, the only sense, she was then in a condition to please: In this Melancholy posture was the beautiful Virgin constrained to reflect on herself, and not without an inexpressible anguish of Soul, to ruminate on her cruel Fate. After a million of confused thoughts, and some showers of precious tears, her pitiful but just resentments (as she since told me) burst out in these or the like expressions: If something of Christianity, or possibly my Parents Instructions did not at present influence my Soul; I should certainly at this instant exclaim at providence, and fly in the face of Heaven. I would boldly approach the Almighty's Throne, to know what one action of Dorothea's life, has merited this rigid penance, this complication of misery and pain; but since I am taught and commanded sufferance, where there is no room for patience; since I must believe and expect the best, after all hope seems taken away: since I am obliged to think Justice an essential attribute of the Divinity, though I experiment nothing in my own person but a cruel severity: since after all I stand engaged to look on the strokes and Thunder that has fallen on me, as the effects of Heaven's favour and affection, as designed for my future benefit, and present amendment; I will, I say if this must be made a part of my Creed, follow the example of other unhappy mortals, who because either they will not, or dare not openly assault Heaven, make to themselves a Goddess of Fortune, whom they first suppose blind, and thence make the mark of their rage, fury, and malice: Is it then from this insensible Divinity that our whole Sex remains accursed, condemned to subjection, and called by the other part of mankind, light, giddy, capricious and unconstant? but whither does my perplexed imagination hurry me? would Heaven, or let it be Fortune, my sufferings were no greater than what are the ordinary attendance on my own Sex; it is some ease and satisfaction in affliction, not to be the only sufferer: it is an assuagement of our pain, to have companions in our misery: The Yoke becomes less galling when many draw, and the burden more supportable when divided, and placed on many Shoulders. Unhappy Dorothea! how wretched then and desperate is thy condition? thou hast been from thy Cradle adjudged to a nauseous and solitary confinement, without any sharer of thy sorrow, any to have compassion of thy misery, any to whom thou mightest impart thy misfortunes, save these rugged and savage Walls, as deaf, as insensible as thy cruel destiny; and lastly condemned to bear on thy weak Shoulders, Atlas' like, a world of insupportable misery; thou certainly hast never yet enjoyed the benefit of a guardian Angel, or tutelary genius, which some think is deputed to supervise the affairs of every particular individual; or if fortune has granted thee that only mark of her favour, it is surely one of her own stamp, stupid, blind, negligent and insensible; if he had but once looked on his charge with a provident or a tender eye, he had certainly stifled Dorothea in her Mother's womb, or given her a charitable stroke in her unhappy Cradle: he has it is true defended her from all these dangers, saved her from the thousand ways infancy would undo itself, but his care has proved the height of barbarity, and his charity the greatest plague incensed Fortune could pour on the head of the disconsolate and wretched Dorothea. Ah! how oft have I prayed my Fate that I might cease to be, that so I might cease to be unfortunate? How oft have I desired to lose that only mark I enjoy of Fortune's bounty? would she would pay herself with her own gift, and leave me in a possibility to forget the benefit; but me she treats like a monstrous malefactor, like a delinquent of an extraordinary size. I desire to die, but life is preserved as a part of my punishment; I have begged the uncharitable sisters to spin out my thread no longer, to cut it in the midst, but am forced to breath, in spite of all my prayers, all my tears, and all my endeavours. Scarce had the bright Maid ended these words, when a knock she heard at the door, made her break off her solitary entertainment, and for a time interrupt her doleful Plaints: Glad she was at the opportunity of this diversion, to find occasion to wipe her eyes, and stop her tears, or at least of diverting the current another way. A little, or a great deal rather, of chat is the life of Women, the fifth element on which they live, and which they can as indispensably want, as the air they breath, or their necessary daily bread. The Reader may hence conclude, Dorothea was not slow to open the door, and inform herself who it was that came to make such a charitable visit; she soon discovered, it was one of her own Sex, that seemed so loaden with years as to be scarce able to support the burden; she had very near as many furrows in her Face, as Hairs on her Head, her Eyebrows were thick and hoary, her eyes appeared the most fruitful parts about her, sending forth a certain yellow matter, not unlike that which Hawks mute at one season of the Year. there was an uninterrupted communication between her Mouth and Nose in the outside as well as within, held by means of cerose humours that constantly distilled from one to the other; her Breasts appeared like a pair of Bladders, without the least particle of Air within, and which had hung some Ages in the smoke of a Chimney; her Chin was acute and bending upwards, as if it longed to kiss the under Lip; it was graced with about a dozen hairs placed much after the same order they are in an old Puss, only they were not so pungent, but rather resembled that moss or down, which may be seen to sprout from a Dogs T— d. I hope the Reader will supply her other parts with his imagination by the taste I have given of those exposed to view, if he is pleased to fancy her Skin of the same colour, with half-tanned Leather, or her Legs, a pair of Broomsticks covered with Parchment, that had lately suffered some injury from the fire, I presume he may do the old Lady no manifest injustice. Her Nails were certainly visible, and were much of the length of those that are preserved to tune an Irish Harp: for tho' she came in a good orderly dress, yet she happened that day to have put on a pair of Gloves, I should call them by another name, but cannot think on it, that never had been furnished with Fingers: and so her talons were laid open to every eye. Dorothea soon perceived it was one she never before had seen, but could notwithstanding perceive in her countenance the marks of sorrow and discontent; she concluded how busy soever Fortune had been with her, she had been likewise diverting herself at the expense of this aged Woman: but the injuries she had received from Fortune, were not, she thought, so visible as those large characters time had imprinted in her face, as the marks of his impartial, but cruel hand. After Dorothea had conducted the old Woman into the House, and those ordinary civilities had passed that may be supposed between two strangers at the first interview: the aged Matron addressed herself to Dorothea much after this following manner.  
The Character I had of your beauty (fair creature), of the endowments of your mind, and withal, the ill circumstances of your present condition, have brought me this way, and into this place: I am come to lay before you the unhappiness of the state you now live in; what you must expect if you persist therein; am willing to show you the fittest remedies for your distemper, am ready to afford you my best advice, and if you be not wanting to yourself, to put an end to all your misery and trouble. I need not here (neither indeed is't possible) to express the satisfaction Dorothea received at the hearing these blessed tidings: she returned her thanks in the best terms she could then devise, adding, That her misfortunes rendered her extremely capable of receiving kindnesses, which she would at all times gratefully acknowledge. Then the old Woman proceeded thus, It is without peradventure (said she) one of the greatest misfortunes that can befall a young Lady, either to be ignorant, or not to have fit opportunities of improving her tender years, so as may most conduce to her future satisfaction, benefit, and advantage, to spend those precious hours in a melancholy and drowsy solitude, in which it was designed she should reap that harvest of content in the open Fields of Liberty, which love inspires, and Heaven pours down for the delight of youth; is, I say, to pervert the course of nature, to oppose those benign influences she was born under, and to be industrious in procuring her own misery and ruin. The niggardly and covetous Miser has been ever condemned by the universal suffrage of all mankind; in that his wealth serves only to feed his own eyes, and is never permitted to see the Sun. The same guilt does a fair Virgin incur, in an equal degree does she injure the public, who being Mistress of large possessions of Wit and Beauty, does hid those precious talents, and conceals that inestimable Treasure, from whence the principal part of mankind might probably expect such infinite satisfaction. That person does certainly deserve some thing worse than slavery, who having been for many years detained in a sordid confinement, should refuse or slight the offers of a generous friend, that would have paid his ransom, broke his chain, the mark of his servitude, and placed him in an honourable and pleasant station. ' Alas! replied Dorothea, how unnecessary are your arguments to one in my state? if you have already discovered any thing in my person your goodness calls a valuable treasure: if you can prove so good a Chemist as to extract thence any ease to me, or satisfaction to any part of the World: if your charity disposes you to break my Chain, and relieve an unfortunate Prisoner; you should presuppose in me such a willingness to comply with your kind proposals, as might supersede the necessity of any persuasive. Then the old Dame in the most insinuating and gilded terms, palliated with a Decorum, set forth the necessity there was to expose her beauty to sale, and become a Woman of the Town. She told her that liberty was the first and the greatest benefit of nature; that the old World had not been circumscribed by any of those political Laws, which the craft of Priests and cunning of States had introduced to abridge the World of that satisfaction which variety of love affords mankind. She magnified the pleasure, state and pomp enjoyed by Whores, the unspeakable felicity there was in a multitude of Lovers and Idolaters: that she was to expect deluges of gold and all other good things this World affords, if she would carefully observe those Rules she would lay before her. That every particular Votary would come as the Heathens did to their Temples, with rich oblations of the better part of their wealth. Our youthful years are, continued she, that golden Age so much talked of by the ancient Poets; and which ought to be spent in as great variety of pleasure, as Gold is malleable into diversity of forms. After we have plentifully tasted of those inexpressible sweets that love dispenses, it is then, and not before, a fit time to imitate with chaste manners the purity of the Silver Age: or experiment the rigours of the Iron one, under the austere rod of a cruel Husband. Dorothea had already been instructed in the School of necessity, to know this was the only remedy, left to remove the cause of her present distemper. The sense she entertained of her birth and quality, had made her at all times resolve against any mean or contemptible Service, the extravagant desire she had of a change, and not being able, or possibly not altogether willing to answer the reasons alleged by the old Seducer, she at last yielded to the powerful efficacy of the Hagg's charms, without being once able to invoke honour to her assistance, or desire the aid of her own reputation. The only obstacle that now remained, which retarded the full conquest, and made her for a few minutes suspend a final and absolute surrender of herself; was the consideration of her own ignorance, in the affairs of the World: this created in her strange fears and jealousies of being unfortunate in the exercise of her intended Trade, which required an honourable beginning and appearance in the world, and in which a Lady ought to be preinstructed in a system of the most curious frauds, and the most winning blandishments; if she would ever expect to bring her business to a happy conclusion, or arrive at any degree of an advantageous perfection. These difficulties she proposed to her new Mistress, as the only Remoras that stopped her longing desires to condescend to her opinion, and give herself wholly up to be guided by her. Then the old Lady took the opportunity to remove all doubts and scruples in words to this or the like effect.  
Daughter (for so must I call you) the kindnesses I had for your person, even before I was acquainted with it, upon the bare fame of your merits, the pity I entertained for your sufferings, and the tender affection now created by my own choice, and those extraordinary qualities I have already discovered at this first encounter, have I say, raised in me strong desires to see you move in a higher sphere, and placed in a station of uncontrolled felicity; I am very well able, and yet as willing to instruct you in all those necessary precepts, and acquaint you with those excellent rules, and practical forms by which you may become expert and famous in this Art. I will in a few days discourse illustrate unto you the Whore's Rhetoric, in such a plain and an easy method, and paint it in such lively and charming colours, that you will be constrained by both profit and pleasure, to learn, remember, and apply to use my short but sufficient Documents.  
Be not surprised that under these mean appearances, I should cover such a stock of knowledge, imprinted in me not only by a long study in the theory, but likewise by many years' experience in the infallible practic part. I myself in my younger years, was one of those the World calls a Lady of Pleasure; and even in the exercise of this profession, in my most lively and licentious days, I applied myself likewise to the study of polite Learning. I soon arrived at a remarkable perfection in my own Trade, and in a little time was valued as one of the first rate Whores, for the splendour of my Lodgings, and other necessary ornaments, for a graceful and stately behaviour, if not on the score of an agreeable and a handsome face. The memory of my past grandeur, serves now only to increase my pain: and it is but the just reward due to the nonobservance of convenient rules I was not then so wise as to contain myself within the bounds of a Rhetoric; my vain curiosity transported me into the wild and unpassible mazes of Philosophy, and to dive too far into secrets of natural Philosophy to gratify my own fantastical and giddy nature. I fell in love with a dissolute and faithless fellow, (Ah Daughter! this is the accursed bane of our Sex, but those especially of this Vocation) with whom glutting myself in extravagant pleasures, I fell to discuss the matter and composition of the Heavens in practising delights, which to me seemed much more pleasant than the Music of the Spheres. Then I advanced to the Books of Generation and corruption: and finally passing to the airy abstracted notions of Metaphysics, I found all my Money exhausted, and reduced to a mere Chimaera, in search of those vain and empty Dreams; so that at last I was reduced to theological speculations, and even almost forced to preach up Charity, as a virtue, I was constrained for some time to live on: but finding people for the most part extreme cold in the exercise of this Grace, I soon quitted the service, and betook myself to a more gainful and more acceptable employment. ' I am sorry (good Mother) said Dorothea, smiling, that your curiosity has been to you of such fatal consequence; but though you have not in all points obtained your ends, though you have not yet perfectly found out the Philosopher's Stone, you have, I am confident, made such accidental discoveries, as may sufficiently make amends for all your laborious inquisitions, and satisfy all the reasonable demands of any moderate Scholar. My slender knowledge informs me, I ought gladly to build on the experience you have so dearly purchased, and rest satisfied with such practical Doctrines as you shall be pleased to impart unto me; without entertaining any Metaphysical affections, I shall acquiesce in a knowledge of sublunary beings, and such of those only, as may afford some profit and advantage, as well as pleasure. I will not be solicitous to understand what substance the Heavens are made on; nor to gratify my ears with the Music of the Spheres: the sweet melody created by the sound of the Golden Oblations you spoke of, centring in my Purse, is a sound which I presume aught to afford me principal satisfaction; and I suppose all my industry, and all my policy ought to be employed in the acquisition of this profitable Science. ' But pray Mother (continued Dorothea) after such mighty misfortunes as you had suffered, when you were by the loss of your Money reduced to the contemplation of Divinity? where was it you then found shelter? what Shore were you cast on after such a dangerous Shipwreck? ' Before I answer any questions of this nature, that may interfere with our present business, you must first give me leave, my dear Dorothea, to applaud the comment you have given my words, and thank Heaven for having found in your Person a disciple after my own Heart, to whom I may, before I leave this World, leave all the choice secrets of my Soul, all those Sovereign Receipts, which being by your care and industry judiciously applied according to the season of the year, the nature, quality and complexion of the Patient, will infallibly produce marvellous effects, and make you more famous in after ages than the Corinthian Lais, or the other Lady of the same name, that caused Persepolis to be set on fire.  
It is the greatest happiness that any mortal is capable of, to be instructed in a prudent conduct, and sage management of their affairs, by that experience, which was not gained at first without many hazardous adventures, and a multiplicity of certain dangers. I have already shown you the fatal rock on which was shipwrecked my grandeur and reputation; and I hope the experience of errors may render the truth of my Doctrine more perspicuous, and the validity of my reasons more authentic. When the Vigour of Youth, and an inordinate desire of gratifying my appetite, without any regard to necessity or convenience, had swallowed up my prudential faculties; than it was I committed those indiscreet miscarriages, which I could never retrieve but with sorrow and repentance. When my foolish affections had overflowed all those profitable pastures, and safe paths, which discerning reason had chalked out for me; when the springtide of my passions, had covered the tops of the highest rocks, and made the face of danger as smooth and calm as that of the waters; than it was that with all my Sails, running before the Winds of Plenty and Pleasure, I irrecoverably lost the Ship of my repose: and glad I was to get to shore on the two planks of Misery and Want. After this sad disaster, when I had sacrificed my treasure to appease the insatiable cravings of a bawling Neptune; when I had lost all hopes of being ever able to Rig out a new Ship; and when the number of my years could scarce permit me to undergo the fatigue of a new Voyage; I begun then to think it high time to settle myself on the lazy shore of ease and temperance. I had ever been in the Spring of my years, one of Cupid's most zealous Votaries: and though impotent nature had disabled me from performing any considerable service in the fields of love, otherwise than by being passive in the work; yet my reasonable part, the Will, did still retain its primitive heat, vigour, and courage; as an old decripit Soldier, who having received many dangerous wounds, and honourable scars, and is now unfit to give a personal attendance in the field, yet by his long experience in the Wars, is able at a distance to win a Battle by his prudent and unerring Rules; and getting himself carried up to the top of a lofty Tower, he there sits basking before the Sun, feeds his eye with the sight of the numerous Battalions, drawn up in excellent order, and gratifies his ears with the harmonious discord of Drums, Trumpets, and the more warlike sound thundered from the mouths of the impartial, and all-deciding Cannon. Just so it fared with me in the warfare of Venus: I could not without infinite regret quite abandon that beloved service, and seeing I could not be principal in the action, I was resolved to be somewhat more than accessary by my servant advice, and bold encouragement. Thus than I turned Nature's handmaid, and a Midwife to love, which had often proved abortive, had not my importunate prayers and solicitations brought it alive into the world, to the infinite satisfaction of the loving pairs. It is now about thirty years since I began to serve the public in this charitable employment, and had still continued so to do, had not a malignant Jury dispossessed me of my lovely habitation, I had for many years kept in Moorfields, to the joy, comfort, and support of the whole amorous Republic.  
‛ Ah Madam! cried Dorothea, interrupting her, how cruel have you been in concealing thus long your name, and thereby hindering me from paying you those respects that are due to the fame and quality of the Lady Creswel? how obscurely soever I have spent the few years, I have already past, it has not been without frequently hearing of your name, the place of your abode, and the cruel severity you have of late been forced to undergo. Would I could by my own good Fortune, and your wise Precepts, be instrumental in removing all your perplexity and sorrow, as well as the misery of my own state, I shall be extreme cautious to avoid all dangerous curiosities, as well as any dangerous and unprofitable amours. I will make it my principal care to suck in those wholesome Instructions your Rhetoric shall furnish me withal: I will be wary not to exceed those bounds and limits which you shall therein be pleased to prescribe me; yet I will withal be more than industrious not to come short, nor fail in the punctual observance of all your injunctions. Fair Daughter, replied the old Woman, (who must be called hence forward Madam, Mother, or plain Creswel, as the case requires) ' you may I am sure, discover evident signs of joy and comfort in my countenance, at the hearing your wise and discreet remarks: I begin to think my good fortune has not utterly forsaken me, forasmuch as I have great encouragement to believe your pregnant and towardly genius will prove a blessing to my declining, and become the staff of my old Age. Seeing you are so well prepared to receive my instructions. I will lose no time, but will forthwith expound unto you my practical Rhetoric, in the easiest and plainest method. I will take care in five days to rig you out, and settle you in a convenient place, where you may see variety of good Company, and be instructed in some necessary parts of conversation: for this and the fixing my prescriptions deeply in your memory, I will allow you some months, as many as may seem necessary to render you perfect in these qualifications, which are absolutely necessary, before you may be permitted to open your Shop. You will peradventure be a little surprised to hear me talk to you of things, that cannot be attained without some considerable cost and charge: let not that in the least disturb your thoughts, how cruel soever my enemies have been, they have still left me sufficient to support the small remainder of my days, and withal enough to gratify my own humour in showing you these inconsiderable favours. I have at this day some worthy and eminent Debtors, who have been the King's Lieutenants, Lord-Mayors, and Sheriffs of the City of London: some of them have indeed made me but ingrateful returns of all my favours; if they did believe love still so valuable, as when they were my constant guests, they would be juster in paying their debts, and more mindful of their old Friend. I shall not, sweet Dorothea, detain you any longer in the Porch, but shall with much impatience expect to morrow Morning, when I will return hither, and in a short time illustrate unto you a perfect system of such necessary precepts, on which, if duly observed, you may lay an infallible foundation for the superstructure of Riches and Honour. I must here profess my inability to show the Reader that satisfaction, the young Maid received at these her Mistresses last words: she expressed her thanks in a low curtsy, and a submissive look: She only told her, The marks of her kindness were so great, she was not able to express her sense of it; but seeing it was impossible to pay her in effects, she would never be wanting on all occasions to show her grateful acknowledgements. Then Madam Creswel, being desirous to repair towards her own habitation, was about to take her leave, and bid her young Pupil good Night; when Dorothea remembering she had something to ask, for a few minutes retarded her departure, by desiring to be resolved in the following question. Madam, said she, you told me, that after that unlucky miscarriage in your amours, when your good fortune and riches had been split on the rock of credulity, that you chose of all professions to turn Supervisor of Love; I desire then to know, Whether there be any kind of a fatal necessity, that all Whores should terminate their days in this Profession; I hope, Mother, the similitude of the old Soldier does not run on all four; for indeed methinks, I could never endure to see those delights practised by others, which I myself could not enjoy; it would be to me, I am confident, an excessive torment to be tantalized with those sweets, I were never to taste. Heavens forbidden, answered old Creswel, that ere my precious Jewel should be exposed to the disquiets and inconveniencies of this slavish drudgery, time will not now permit me to show thee the mysteries of this profession: at a convenient occasion, I will either myself, or get one of my younger Sisters to inform you in the most material tricks and trapans practised by the Bawds of this Town: some small knowledge in this affair will be expedient to preserve you from their numerous frauds: whilst I live, I will be ever at your elbow, to secure you from danger, and if thou diligently observe my precepts, thou wilt have reason to bless the Flesh and the Bones of thy old Mother, and to love me after I am dead, as I believe you may have good grounds to do as long as I live. But I had almost forgot to answer your pertinent demand; which I shall do in telling you there is no manner of necessity you should disquiet your thoughts, with the vain fears of being one day obliged to undergo that weighty charge, which I have near thirty years born on these weak Soldiers. If I had not been a dissolute spendthrift, I never needed have lost my own liberty and repose, to procure that for others in an extraordinary measure: if I had regarded my own profit, or advantage half so much in my green years, as I did the pleasing my fantastical humour, I should not have forfeited my ease in my old age, to gratify licentious youth in all its capricious and extravagant desires. But you, Daughter, I promise a more advantageous fortune: you shall never need turn Bankrupt in love: when you have laid up a plentiful stock for the support of all the contingences of this life, and miseries of old Age; when you have plentifully tasted all the varieties love can afford; when you are cloyed with pleasure, and grown weary of venereal pastimes, you shall call in your debts, clear your accounts, and shut up Shop; like a Usurer, who is grown old and tired with cheating, who has quit both Exchange and Coffeehouse on the score of business, only repairs thither sometimes for his consolation to rail at the Government, and smoak a Pipe. After you have suffered sufficient drudgery in the Pulpit, you shall roll into a fat Bishopric, and there pamper yourself in Prelatical pomp and luxury. When you have ruined a million of unhappy Clients, that have thrust their cause into your hands, and got a mass of Money, by bawling, cheating and lying; you shall then wrap yourself up in lambskins, and take a nap on the lazy Bench. When you have acquired a plentiful Fortune, by destroying many Legions of wretched Patients; it will then be a good time to leave of killing, and oblige posterity with some choice Receipts. Finally Dorothea, when you have for a good number of years imitated the Courtier, in cringing fawning, supplanting, and undermining, and been quite jaded with acting alla Cortegiana, that is, both the Whore and Courtier, you may with pleasure retire to a Country House. The wise Italians by Cortegiano and Cortegiana understand the Courtier and the Trading Lady, thereby intimating that a Whore ought to be furnished with all the Courtly qualities, she ought to be a Female sycophant, or the Courtiers Wise. So Dorothea, I bid thee adieu: To Morrow Morning expect my return.  Dorothea. 
Good Night, good Mother: and remember I have given myself entirely up to your care and conduct.   

The First Dialogue.  M. C. 
WEll, now you see me again, fair Daughter, at the time appointed.  Dor. 
You are as hearty welcome, Mother, as Money to a needy Whore, or a Reprieve to a condemned Malefactor.  M. C. 
It is very well, you will then I hope, lend an attentive Ear, because you seem persuaded of the necessity of it; and not like Aesop's transformed Lady, fly off at the first impertinent occasion.  Dor. 
I will hearken to you with the same respect the young Scholar does to his rigid Master, or a zealous Christian to an edifying Sermon.  M. C. 
Pray let not your mind go a Woolgathering; but fancy you see the terrible Rod, and that you are to be horsed for every miscarriage, or suppose for every minute your thoughts wander, you incur no less than the guilt of a mortal sin.  Dor. 
I shall, Madam.  M. C. 
The Whore's Rhetoric is nothing else, but the art to multiply insinuating words, and feigned pretences to persuade, and move the minds of those men, who falling into their nets, do become the trophies of their victories. As Trade and Traders increase, so must industry and ingenuity: and there are at this day, such a great plenty of Whores, that to live well, and to continue in that state, it is necessary to understand more than what is vulgar and common.  Dor. 
Do not discourage me in the beginning.  M. C. 
It is not enough to have a charming person, killing looks, and a graceful mien; cunning, art, and good fortune do the work, all the rest are but mere bubbles.  Dor. 
Say you so?  M. C. 
It were impossible so many Whores should daily become such spectacles of misery, such objects of pity and compassion, if they would make the right use of half that wit, nature and their own experience has furnished them withal: they needed not fear the Constable's Staff, or the justices Warrant, a public whipping, or a private one in Bridewell, where Sir William knocks, and keeps time with the Lash; they might 'scape the Halter, starving in a corner, rotting of the Canker, or French-Pox, if they were not silly, idle, ridiculous, negligent, absurd asses, sots, extravagant, lewd, the Devil and worse.  Dor. 
I believe it indeed.  M. C. 
If then notwithstanding, these ignorant bawling, scurrilous, drunken, stripping Sweep-Kennels do sometimes work wonders, and govern the World: If Privy Counsellors, Judges, aldermans, Doctors, Dukes, Lords, Colonels, Knights and Squires may be made beasts on by these stupid Jades; how thinkest thou might the Cullies be handled by Women of sense and understanding?  Dor. 
We should ride them more unmercifully than they do their Horses; and make them greater Slaves than the Sally men ever did, or the Algerines.  M. C. 
For this cause it is not every insipid Slut that is qualified for this Trade; and I that am instructed by long experience, do not, you see, precipitate you in this affair, a large stock of knowledge, and the highest point of policy and circumspection is necessary to render a Whore successful in her own art; she must be at least as dexterous in the vending her goods, as the Haberdasher at putting off his small-ware: and if she knew her own wealth, she has in her Shop no less variety than the Haberdasher in his: for if he can cry Pins, Needles, Laces, Thimbles, and such like stuff; the Whore has likewise in her Magazine dainty words, sweet Kisses, pretty Smiles, and charming Looks, but all this is nothing: she has in her Cabinet, Rubies, Pearls, Emeralds, and the joy and melody of the World.  Dor. 
I understand you.  M. C. 
I have promised you a Rhetoric, and therefore to make good my word, I must observe some method, and limit myself to a certain order. I have already told you what it is: I will now show you its object, and the matter about which it is conversant. Interest is the subject of this art; and what ever an insatiable avarice can either pretend to, or desire, may be included in the object thereof. Invention is principally necessary in this Art, to frame new pretexts, and a diversity of expressions, with reference to the circumstances of person, time and place: and to impose probabilities, or even things utterly false, as certain, and true. A good memory is requisite to avoid contradictions, and those inconveniencies, the repetition of the same frauds and artifices would infallibly produce.  Dor. 
You proceed methinks very regularly.  M. C. 
I shall not trouble you with a particular account of those silly divisions which those Rhetorics afford, that are commonly taught in Schools, as the four parts of an Oration, Elocution, and the Doctrine of the Tropes and Figures. The things you shall be particularly informed in; I will only omit the barbarous and insignificant names.  Dor. 
Pray do so: and proceed to what is material, till you come to the marrow of the business.  M. C. 
The Regular Priests of the Romish Church, do seemingly take three Vows of Chastity, Poverty, and Obedience; but instead of these they wisely devote themselves to Luxury, avarice, and Dissimulation; in like manner you must put on a seeming modesty even when you exercise the most essential parts of your Profession: you must pretend a contempt of money, that your amorous caresses are purely the effects of love; and a counterfeit humility, as oft as the occasion may require: when in the mean time, your main, and indeed sole aim must be to impose on all men, never to stick at any thing how licentious soever, that may forward your designs or interest: your avarice must be insatiable, you must therefore never fly any occasion of increasing your stock: and your whole life must be one continued act of dissimulation.  Dor. 
I will obey you.  M. C. 
On these foundations I intent to superstruct my subsequent discourse: and will for the most part, confine myself to those Doctrines, that may seem to animate a young handsome Lady in this Trade, such as I have chose for a Disciple: without regarding the married Women, Widow, or superficial Maid; who do not obey the dictates of interest, but prostitute themselves merely to gratify their libidinous appetites. Neither is this discourse directed to Whores, that have already spent some considerable time in the exercise of this Function. To those whom either years, or some personal blemish has made less agreeable, I give only this general caution, to conceal with all possible industry their particular imperfections; and to supply their wants as far as is possible, with abundance of good Chat, rich , Flattery, endearing Expressions, and some particular Dexterities to please their Lovers: after all, they will be forced to submit to harder terms than I shall ever suffer you to comply with.  Dor. 
I thank you good Mother, in that you are so sensible of my interest as to square your Discourse to my particular necessities; but I am confident your instructions, though directed to me, may be likewise profitable to the cunningest, and most experienced Whore living.  M. C. 
There is a mighty necessity, Daughter, that you in all points conform yourself to those obligations your Profession will impose upon you in ways far different from the ordinary artifices of our Sex. We are all, it is true, naturally inclined to wove fraudulent webs, and to be likewise overjoyed at the success of our experiments: but a Whore ought to exceed others of her Sex in these undertake; as many degrees as her opportunities of knowledge, are greater, and her necessities of living by such subtleties may seem to require. She moves in a higher sphere, than the rest of Women; and her actions ought to seem ; though Statesman-like, she should contrive them all to meet in the centre of her own particular advantage: You must be furnished with great variety of words, and even those that are most familiar and trivial, to enable you to entertain your Lovers on all subjects: still complying in the choice of the matter with their various tempers. This part of Rhetoric is necessary to fit you on all occasions, to use ambiguous expressions, and for ornament sometimes, synonymous terms; to equivocate, vary and double, according to your fancy and the present circumstances: all which do extremely enhance the value of your words; and add a particular gallantry to your discourse. A Whore's language in the lascivious dialect, is ever to please the present lover; who always coming to feed on the same dish, aught to enjoy the variety of discourse, in such sort that he be not cloyed with his fare, and by consequence she lose the efficacy and main end of her eloquence. You must seem altogether insatiable in pleasing your lover; and in multiplying his delight; ever pretending to receive therein yourself particular satisfaction; if his experience has taught him divers forms in the enjoyment, gratify him in condescending to his humour therein: provided his particular generosity challenge this particular treatment. During these ravishing minutes be not wanting to afford him a multiplicity of strict embraces: let your caresses, and ecstasies be sometimes inclining to violent, sometimes slow and remiss; but still such as may seem natural, without any artificial constraint, that so he may believe you ravished beyond yourself: and be thought, not only to feed him with your body, but to have given likewise your very Soul. Let this be attended with some dying words, soft murmuring sighs, as may be just overheard by your lover. Redoubling the knots of hands and feet, let the Comedy end with some sweet kisses, in which let your tongue gently glide within his lips; that you may seem to have transmitted your Soul that way; whilst he infuses his, in return, at another door. After the disjunction, be very industriou to drive away that repentance, or melancholy rather, which naturally succeeds fruition: to hinder him from nauseating those delights, even for the space of one minute; on which depend the main force of all your persuasions. It will not be amiss, during this interval, to divert him with an airy Song, or some jocular, and facetious Novel, that may remove all marks of sadness, and prepare him for a second assault. When he is ready to departed, has paid for his pleasure (for that I still suppose) and you expect no more of his liberality for that time, be sure to dismiss him with some extraordinary Epilogue, that may soon enforce a return; let your kisses be on this occasion more savoury than usual, and your dalliances so exquisite as may create in him strong, and invincible desires, to buy more of your fruit, tho' you should be so cruel as to raise the price. Those are still esteemed the choicest, and are ever the dearest cakes, which do not cloy the Stomach; but only whet its edge, and prepare it for a new meal. Promise him the next time greater satisfaction, and more delicious fare; make him believe the pleasures you disperse are so refined and spiritualised, that they will always improve by a repetition, and increase in proportion, as they become familiar by frequent practice. Give him to understand your Treasure is inexhaustible, and that you will never want sufficient reserves; being thus entangled in the net, he will fancy himself always a Prisoner, but when your soft hands lose the knot, and make him free; he will believe every Hour an Age till he may satiate his longing appetite, and revive his Soul with the delicacies of the same repast. Men are oft of opinion, that Women were made only for their enjoyment; so by consequence they will too frequently despise them when the pleasure is over, as they do meat on a full Stomach. Consider then how nearly it concerns you to know some extraordinary arts to engage your Lovers, and make them indivisibly yours (if I may so say) even after the act of separation. Your graces must be strong, and your charms  to oblige them to continue their conversation; which must after a time redound to your profit and advantage. Use all men and at all times with terms of the highest civility, a feigned kindness, and a pretended affection can suggest: unless some particular disobligation may require the contrary; and then let your resentments be showed in a stately and scornful contempt; but this I will only allow, when all hopes of further gain are taken away; when your Votary has hardened his heart, not to be reclaimed by reason, nor dissolved by tears. With those that are your familiar and constant Customers you must learn a particular deportment. When you find your Minion imparadised in pleasure, drowned in excess of love, and now scarce able to bear the weight of the joy, it will be then fit you should experiment the virtue of your well regulated note, insinuate some considerable request, for the which you must never want some plausible pretence: at one time you shall feign that some of your moveables of value are pawned for a sum of money (which must be proportioned to his temper and ability) which if not redeemed by a certain day, then at hand, will be irrecoverably lost; at another time, give him to believe the loss of a Pendent, Ring, or such like utensil, for which you have a singular value, not for the thing itself, but lest you should be thought careless of the Donors' favour who must be some particular relation, whom you would by no means disoblige. You may sometimes complain of an obligation that lies upon you, to pay a debt at such a day; seem sensible of your present disability, and the damage your credit will receive thereby, your creditor being one of your main benefactors. At another opportunity you must put on a borrowing face, but with a firm intent to make no restitution. If your lover have a retentive faculty, abound with protestations of good will, and excuse with impotence, the contrariety of effects; put him fairly to it by way of being security: and be sure never to want a friend on those occasions, that will lend money, having a hint before hand, of the stanchness of the person he is to have as surety; with these and the like inventions, you must strive to keep your Purse, and supply the contingences of any extraordinary charge: For all these purposes take care your Maid be wisely pre-instructed, to show her Mistress wholly disinterested, who, she is sure, would not stoop beneath her decorum, to make any such request, were not her kindness and familiarity the occasions of it. It will be necessary your Servant should know on occasion to act the buffoon, or at least many capricious and pleasant humours: that so under the notion of burlesque, all things being permitted her, she may by way of jest, use her earnest endeavours to fleece the Rivals: her desires must be either moderate, or more exorbitant, according to the discretion of the amorous guest. Some are pretty well, or perniciously rather, armed against a Whore's wit: and dare be so hardy, to resist all the shocks of her importunities: but much the greater number, are prone to yield in all these points if discreetly managed; and not a few so weak, as to be imposed on by the Legerdemains of a Servant. Above all things see that your snares be not detected, before you have caught the Woodcock; for if the net be foreseen, even those shallow Animals can avoid the danger. What ever is acquired by these means may be reckoned as clear gain, in regard the purchase comes in without trouble; so it is trying men's generosity and good nature: when ever a repulse happens in the way, step lightly over it without any apparent regard, or the least trip. There is incertainty in all traffic; one that will build on no less than infallibility, wants faith, and must never expect any considerable return: but she that can run the risk, who can look danger in the face, with a favourable gale, may arrive at some degree of eminence, and come off with multiplied gain. The Documents are good, but yet the rules of commerce are voluble: in as much as there are variety of contracts with the like variety of Persons, it is impossible to meet at all times; one and the same humour: however Daughter, be sure to trade in the bank of subtlety, that so your cash may still increase, and your profit advance agreeably to your own desires.  Dor. 
What do I hear! I had thoughts to interrupt you several times before you came to this period, but my ears were so busy, I could not make use of my Tongue.  M. C. 
You must look on it as the great business of your life, to please others, and enrich yourself. Fancy yourself subjugated by an inevitable decree to satisfy any the most lascivious appetite, provided he comes with Gold in his Purse, and is willing to purchase at your rates. You must forget the distinction of Gentleman, and Mechanic; but let men be divided in your Books under the names of Poor, Rich, Liberal, and Niggardly. I would indeed have you only seen with first rate Gallants, in the face of the Sun, and in public places, but under the shelter of darkness, and covert of the night, lower your Sail, and condescend to the embraces of inferior persons, who have ofttimes a larger Fond, and are easier induced to comply with a Lady's humour. The Emperor that raised a Tax from Piss, to confute one that thought it beneath and inconsistent with the dignity of a Prince, produced a heap of Gold that came into his Treasury by that Imposition; Does this, says he, stink of the excrement whence it was drained? Thereby showing, that money removes all stench, from the meanest action, by virtue of its purging quality. Carry yourself at all times with a superficial stateliness, to gain respect, and avoid contempt: but remember to bate some degrees of this gravity, if it either may offend, or be discovered by a discerning Lover. You must in your  appear beyond all measure rich and magnificent. Young sparks (nay and some that have arrived at years of discretion) do judge of one another's Wit and Parts, by their dress and garb: so they ever conclude a Woman's attractives to increase, with the glittering of fine , and sumptuous Lodgings. Though I am sure the Coxcombs are almost equally astray in both particulars: I would have your  rather seem grave than gaudy, yet such as may in their splendour show something of the fantastical, and notwithstanding preserve a decorum. Those Whores are very ill advised, and do ever in short time become cracked and bankrupt in their reputation, who for the humour of strutting about, and to be thought frolicsome, brisk, and gay, do deviate from the strict rules of sobriety, they ought to observe, into a contrary excess of lewdness and obscenity: they hereby precipitate themselves into open danger, and lose their aim, which was thereby to gain upon their amorous Servants, by falling into open contempt, because impudence was of the same stamp. She ever sells most Aware, and at the best rate, who can handsomely show its worth, but yet does not seem too fond of the Buyer. Men will be sure to respect those most, who set a high value on themselves, and their own goods. They deal with Women as they do with their Haberdasher's; let the Shop be in a gentile part of the Town, have a fair outside, let the Seller be well stored with Shop-Rhetorick, and then he that asks most, is certainly esteemed to vend the best Commodities. But on a seeming veneration for Piety and Religion, especially before Strangers, whereby you will be ever valued even by those that have themselves laid aside those considerations; but much more by Men of generous and free thoughts. By no means give yourself the liberty of Swearing, or drinking to excess; unless on some particular occasion, a young Bubble may encourage you thereto, who is free of his money, and in love with those insipid and unprofitable vices. As to the various modes of fine dressing, Singing, Niceties to be observed in Eating, and Drinking, Behaviour and Corversation; I have already told you, that some time is to be laid aside for the learning of these, before you can safely begin the World, all which you must be instructed in at another School.  Dor. 
I remember you told me, I was to understand these points, and at your expense too, for which, good Mother, I do again return you my thanks. You are resolved, I find, not to see me deficient in any necessary part of breeding; I hope, I shall never give you any reason to repent, either your charge or trouble.  M. C. 
Among all the qualities of an exact Oration, there is none more necessary or more pleasing, than that it should be stored with numerous and smooth periods, which might gratify the Ears even of Orators themselves, with their regulated sound, and the harmonious conjunction of all their parts. In the sentiment of my Rhetoric, there is no music ought to sound so charmingly in a Whore's Ears, as that sweet melody created by the clashing of Gold in her own purse: and therefore to multiply that, it will be necessary, to increase likewise the multitude of your Lovers. You may rest assured that no considerable return can be expected by dealing with one Correspondent (I do not now speak of those whom some personage may keep for his particular diversion) it is the height of folly to depend on the supplies of one Purse, the inevitable ruin of a Whore's Fortune, and an infallible prologue to a state of beggary. It were much better to comport with a matrimonial Chain, voluntarily to sell your liberty to one Husband, whose person and money may be more at your command, than can be expected from an amorous Friend, who must needs be tired with your continual wants, and nauseate your many importunities: but if his hands did not grow weary of incessant disbursements, if his inclinations still continued to satisfy all your necessities, the mines would be finally exhausted, and as the expenses would grow greater, the power and ability would daily decrease. Those are only the famous Rivers in the World that receive the tribute of a multitude of inferior Brooks; and the Ocean itself could not brag of its vast extent, and unaccountable limits, if its supplies were not unaccountable likewise. Beware then, Dorothea, of ever suffering yourself to languish miserably at the discretion of one man, by deposing in him the sole hopes of your support and fortune. A long acquaintance will create a fatal familiarity, and that embolden him to deny you possibly, not only your modest requests, but to raise his dominion over you to such a height, as to tread you under his cruel Feet, and with severe blows command you to bury all your demands. If for want of opportunities a Woman should be constrained to defend this dangerous post; or at her first appearance on the Stage, she should not be able to establish her fortune, by a numerous train of admirers; let her be still on her guard, and cautious not to miss laying hold of the first convenient refuge, but still with discreet reserves, keeping in her own hands the power to retract, at the first offer of a favourable gale, that may waste her over to any other more advantageous Port. In a change and variety of Lovers, you will find occasion to improve your skill in Rhetoric, which in the centre of one man's Breast, in the continual handling one particular matter, would become trite, lose its efficacy, and yield you neither profit nor even pleasure itself. A singular dexterity will be always necessary to keep, to preserve the peace among the jealous Rivals, to maintain them affectionately devoted toward their Mistriss' service, and ready to comply with their respective talents. You must fancy yourself supreme Governess of an amorous Republic. The merit of your Subjects must be valued in proportion to their wealth, and their readiness to open the strings of their purses: so you ought to be nicely impartial in distributing rewards and punishments according to their several merits, or prevarications; which in your Law must mean, generosity on the one hand, and a retentive parsimony on the other. Still encourage loyalty, and an humble deference in all your Vassals: pour down the largesses of your favour on those only, of whose fidelity you are well assured, and who prove ready at all times to sacrifice what is most dear to them, to your will and pleasure. It is a foolish maxim to oblige your enemies, or strangers, by fancying yourself secure of your friends Hearts. This piece of policy would certainly ruin you in the end, and leave you destitute of all support. If there happen to be any person on whom you may think fit to show particular marks of your bounty, or whose services have merited some signal reward, be careful not to give him any distaste, or any just ground of discontent, let this be the infallible criterion of your servants affection, if he acts in your service, with more regard to your interest than his own particular advantage. Be not wrought on by the impudence or importunity of any bawling fellow, to part with the least part of that Treasure, which ought to be wholly reserved to recompense your zealous Servants, and your old friends. Be mindful in a particular manner of those, who stick to you in any adversity, it is a sure sign they are disinterested and fond of showing their affection. (He was certainly a coward, and no wise man, the Emperor, I mean, that first introduced the custom of reclaiming grand Mutineers, with heaping honours on their undeserving heads; and stopping the mouths of the factious with preferment in the state. This is to open a wide gap, for every necessitous, or adventurous Villain to enter the bewitching Fortress of Rebellion: and whatever Potentate fancies this the safest way to reduce such to their duty and allegiance, is guilty of the same ignorance and weakness; that would a Physician be, who should administer nourishing Jellies, and restorative Cordials to his Patient, labouring under the flame of a burning Fever. Every one knows that losing a little Blood, and a sparing, or rather no diet at all, were the only way to have saved his life. So in the first case Phlebotomy is as indispensably necessary, and the only sovereign receipt to cure the calenture of a State, and secure the tranquillity of the Body politic.)  Dor. 
Why Mother, I think you design to make me a States-woman, as well as knowing in the Rules of Rhetoric. I shall endeavour to imitate the wise Prince, to show neither partiality, nor cowardice in the administration of my Republic.  M. C. 
If it happens at any time, that some one of your favourites does grow enamoured to that degree as to be impatient of a Rival in your affection; desires to engross you to himself, and make a monopoly of your Wit and Beauty; if his estate be as large as his flame, and his generosity equal to both, I shall approve of your deserting your other Clients to place yourself in this easy and pleasant station. Take care however before you enter upon this monastic way of living, to have a convenient maintenance settled during your own life, in case of any contingency, as a rapture between you, his death, or the alteration of his humour. If he chances to be a single man, not yet caught in the noose of Matrimony; you must even outdo yourself in all demonstrations of a a fond respect. Exercise on this occasion the quintessence of your flattery and dissimulation, and with studied arts, and exquisite inventions, make it appear you have exceeded your passionate Squire, in all the effects of a profound and sincere love. After he is sufficiently convinced in this point, fancies himself the happiest man living in the fidelity and affection of his Mistress, and gins to brag of his bright possession, it will then be fit you should entertain some thoughts of seizing the Golden fleece. When you have for some time found the good effects of your knowledge, in gleaning whatever escapes your keeper's hook; or what he is generously pleased to leave behind him; raise then your aspiring thoughts, and consider how you may best make yourself capable of enjoying a third part of your future Husband's estate, if you should chance to survive him. The Lawyers call this Dower in their Jargon, and tell us it is one of their Ladies prime favourites, and seems in her eyes the most precious Jewel, next to Life and Liberty, that she wears about her rusty and wrinkled Neck. If these Gentlemen of the Robe would pardon the misprision (for so I am sure they miscall it) I should think this careful provision for married Women might be well termed the courtesy of England, in benignly telling them, they may cuckold their Husbands all their lives, and yet they shall not be able at their death, to stop this legal current, or hinder their Wives from enjoying that signal courtesy the Law affords them.  Dor. 
Pray Madam, pardon me if I interrupt you: I am not desirous to hear any more of the Lawyers; those dragled-tailed fellows (as I heard my Father say) are more griping, and have more jilting tricks than I can hope to have after all your instructions. I desire to hear what I am more concerned to know, and that is, How I may get a Gentleman of the Gown, not of those Westminster one's, to say Grace between my Spark and me.  M. C. 
I thank thee, Child, for not permitting me to dwell on these impertinents; I love them as little as thou dost, and have much more reason to hate them, since my late overthrow at Westminster; where one of that impudent Tribe, cited I know not how many cases, wherein I had transgressed the Law, and came within the purview of such and such Statutes (for so I remember the mercenary Varlet called it) though I have, as it is well known, made it my business to quell all insurrections, appease all unlawful emotions, to keep the King's peace, both by Night and by Day; and to satisfy all men according to their several exigences.  Dor. 
Ha', ha', ha'. I believe you without swearing. But do beseech you to come to the point I am to be instructed in.  M. C. 
The remembrance of these disasters has put me into a grave humour, and almost into a fit of Devotion; so the next thing I shall inform you, after you have gained those necessary points in the faith of your beloved; is that you must gradually fall into a contemplation, and a retired humour, and soon after into a pretended deep and constant melancholy: which you must always discover most, when your Gallant may be apt to take notice of the change. You must not be unprovided of the Whole Duty of Man, Practise of Piety, and such like helps to Devotion; as having been from the beginning a great pretender to Religion. Order it so, that he may surprise you in a zealous mood, in the midst of an ejaculation, and not without your eyes overcast with tears: he will certainly show his affection in being extremely inquisitive, to know the source of your tears, sorrow and discontent: pretend at first, unwillingness to trouble him with a discovery; but after he has redoubled his importunities, satisfy his curiosity, and remove the mist from before his eyes, by hood-winking him with this or some such answer. I cannot, my dear, (shall you say) but account it a very signal misfortune, and one of the saddest circumstances of my whole life, to be guilty (if I may so say of the innocent) of contributing in any degree to your disquiet, or the disturbance of your, so much by me desired, repose. As I have for the time past, since I had the honour to know you, so I shall for the time to come, and with my last breath, wish you all imaginable satisfaction. Nature, my own choice, and the essential obligations I own you, those large marks of your generous temper, have made me totally and eternally yours. I find in myself the genuine effects of a sympathetick flame, if by that be meant a strong, a violent, or a spotless passion: but if such as is created by no known cause, or wherefore no reason can be assigned, than I must confess my affection thus far will not correspond with the name of sympathy. It is however, much to be feared, that I am now arrived at a dangerous precipice. I love you, and must ever do so, though my own reason and the dictates of Heaven tell me, I ought to break off this impure communication, and demonstrate my love in other more lawful methods, and more agreeable to our holy Faith. And yet the flame within me is so strong, and has in it so much of a violent sympathy, that it forcibly prevails over all the faculties of my Soul, and even deprives me of that liberty, whereon, I thought, had been grounded, either the hopes of reward, or fears of punishment. It boldly triumphs over my reason, drowns my Faith, and baffles even those supernatural aids, that should enable me to overcome all the most dangerous difficulties: In fine, Sir, I am torn in pieces between love on the one hand, and fear on the other: between the force of Religion, and the stronger powers of an immoderate passion. It is from you then, and only you I may hope for relief, it is you that can cure me of my pain, that can prove the Physician of my Soul, as well as body; and it is you I conjure by our mutual flame, our past joys, your own goodness, and my tears to commiserate the wretched, but still too too loving Dorothea.  Dor. 
I protest, Madam, this lecture pleases me extremely; I am confident it might do feats, if acted to the Life.  M. C. 
Thou hast undoubtedly read Cleopatra, Cassandra, Pharamont, and others of that nature, which I protest I never did, and so from those Romantic Ladies mayest say something more heroine and gallant than what I can at present suggest. Tell him it would be more insupportable than a thousand deaths, to be bereft of the blessing of his conversation. Beg that he will still permit thee to enjoy the sight of his person, without those impure effects of his love. That you will be extremely satisfied to serve him in any mean capacity, and think it a higher felicity so to do, than to live with any other man upon Earth in the circumstances of a married Wife. I tell thee again, Child, my crazed fancy cannot soar so high, beyond the Planets, as it ought at this time: my old Minerva wants the encouragement of a quartern of Brandy to spiritualise it for this occasion. But faith, Dorothea, if thou wilt be advised by me, tell him in plain English, if he will not make thee his in an honourable way, desire to be excused from supplying any longer the room, and place of his Whore.  Dor. 
But what if all this Rhetoric with my own additions should not prevail on him to marry me, I hope you would not have me so silly, to quit him only to prove a Woman of my word.  M. C. 
By no means, Daughter: But it is forty to one odds if you miscarry; and indeed this is the state I hope to place thee in; and methinks I already see thee at the Helm steering the Ship of this pleasure towards the Port of Bliss, in one continued and uninterrupted course, in spite of all the storms and tempests raised by a jealous Husband.  Dor. 
I take it for granted, seeing you are pleased to give the assurance of your endeavours, to make for me this careful provision. However, I desire you will finish your Rhetoric, which you have so much to my satisfaction already begun. You know Madam, knowledge is at least an ornament to every body, and will be so to me though I should have such a fortune as not to put all your instructions in practice. A wise man will make his Son a Scholar, though he intends him the reversion of a plentiful Estate: which may save him the trouble of making a trade of his acquisitions, by proclaiming the Gospel, thumbing Littleton, or dissecting Galen.  M. C. 
You say well: and I will comply with your requests, only I shall in my subsequent Discourse, sometimes touch on things in the third person, treat of what a discreet Whore ought to do, but as you have already well observed, all of it is not intended for your practice.  Dor. 
Pray be pleased to proceed in that method.  M. C. 
When a Lady is kept by a married Man, if old, I shall speak of that, when I have done with my general Rules, and descend to particulars.  Dor. 
A natural method.  M. C. 
But if the spark be married and young, the same Rules will serve already laid with some abatements. In as much as there is no hopes of decoying him into Matrimony, she must be therefore particularly industrious to squeeze what money she can out of him.  Dor. 
I would fain know, Mother, whether a Lady, in this case, might not take now and then the liberty to divert herself with other Lovers, that may probably be more pleasing to her than the maintaining Gentleman: For I fancy he may become in time as troublesome as an impertinent Husband.  M. C. 
That is a nice point, Daughter. Variety is indeed the Soul of the World; and I would not be so cruel to confine a young Creature to the embraces of one man, no more than I would to one Dish of Meat, or one Petticoat. But then, Daughter, it is more than necessary to be well assured of the persons discretion, whom she trusts in an affair of this consequence. There is not one in twenty, that is able to conceal his conquests; for men do take more pleasure in divulging their good fortune, than they did in the very actual enjoyment. They can indeed rail at Women as weak and frail Vessels; and yet they themselves are rather more leaky; being as little able to keep an intrigue of this nature undiscovered, as they are to keep their Chambers the day they have put on a new Suit: a discreet reservedness is therefore necessary, and to be strictly enquired into, in regard so few are masters of it. And yet beside that I would not have her run the risk without the temptation of a good sum.  Dor. 
I am clearly of that opinion; That if he should prove a Blab, he might not have all the reason to laugh at the Ladies easy nature, and she no means left to make him suitable returns. But  
Are there no other qualifications required in an amorous confident, beside discretion, and generosity?  M. C. 
Only that if he be a person not acquainted with her Guardian, or any of his Friends, there is then the less danger: and therefore such a one is most safe, and may be traded with on more severity.  Dor. 
You have given me satisfaction.  M. C. 
As to those that live at large, other measures, and different ways of proceeding are necessary to be known, they are daily to encounter a multitude of various humours, and so of course, accidents of the like nature. Their business and Trade being universal, their cunning and industry ought to be so too. And indeed this general acquaintance, this multiplicity of experiments, is the readiest way, after the foundation of a good Theory, to make a Whore expert in her own business, but without that, unless, I say, she have imbibed some speculative notions, and been instructed in some preliminary Doctrines, she must fail in the practic part, turn Bankrupt in a short time, and then suffer that long series of Misery, which usually attends broken and neglected Whores. Both then are absolutely necessary, a competent stock of knowledge and an industrious application of that learning to use and practice.  Dor. 
You talk Philosophically, Madam.  M. C. 
A multitude of Clients does never follow any man, who is not first well read in the Common and Statute Laws; so neither will the indefatigable Study of many years make a complete Lawyer without some considerable practice, to whet his judgement, and improve his reading: and seeing I have given the Whore this pattern to walk by, I desire her to be like the Lawyer, well stored with Bar-impudence, not to be run down, by dint of sense nor force of Argument. Let the Whore imitate the Lawyers Christian Patience, in suffering any scurrilous abuse, so the Libertines Purse be sufficient to atone the miscarriage: I would have her likewise give her Client a fine story for his Money, as the Lawyer serves his; and lastly let her be sure to hate a poor Lover, as much as the Lawyer does a pauper Client.  Dor. 
Because you say so, I will conclude, a Whore ought to imitate the Lawyer in these particulars, but sure you would not advise her to be likewise unmannerly, dull, and slovenly. It is necessary a Whore should have invention (which you said was a part of Rhetoric) and not Lawyerlike to walk, discourse, and even think by precedent.  M. C. 
Thou art in the right, Child. But pray give me leave to finish my general Doctrines, and ease myself of the greatest part of this weighty affair, with as few interruptions, as you can.  Dor. 
It is very reasonable: I will obey.  M. C. 
The most convenient habitation for a Trading Lady, is in a small convenient House of her own, rather than in Lodgings. For in these she will be subject to several Rules, which in a House all at her devotion need not be so much feared. If she lies at a place of any credit, it will be expected she should observe some reasonable hours; then her secret intrigues will be more liable to a discovery, when pried into by a whole Family, than if communicated to one or two Maids, that depend on herself, and are her own Creatures. But the farther, and main inconveniency of Lodgings is, That in them it will be difficult to contrive several small Chambers, or dark places of refuge, just large enough to contain a Bed, which may be easily had in her own House. The use of these is very great to conceal, and entertain at once several Lovers: That while the Maid stands Centinel, to expect, and give her Mistress warning of some jealous Servants arrival, she may have opportunity to satisfy with a short repast, and a hasty bit, the hunger of another, who will content himself with such a sottish enjoyment, and pay as much for this stolen fruit, as if he purchased in the open Market. There are not a few of this temper, who love to steal these joys, and think them more valuable than those they obtain with freedom and privilege; as Schoolboys love one stolen Apple above twenty fairly come by with ready money. There are a sort of Gentlemen, that are easily gulled into a belief of their being the sole Favourites, and who are only admitted to the Lady's bed. These youths are naturally free of their money, and therefore deserve a singular management. The Whore ought to answer their zeal, in all the demonstrations of a feigned affection: so when the Spark comes to cool his heat, when she is engaged in another adventure, and entertaining a new Servant, the said retreats and lurking holes will stand in principal stead. I knew a Whore (whether more bold or cunning I cannot determine) that used thus to lodge two or three Guests in her several apartments; he that paid best was of the most jealous temper, and whom she was most unwilling to disoblige, was the person to whom she would engage herself for the Night's diversion: so after immoderate riding, beside perhaps the occasional incentive of some Bottles, had lulled the wearied Traveller into a profound sleep; then would she pay her respective Visits, and satisfy the several exigences of all her Friends. These by places, these dark Conventicles, for the entertainment of the family of Love, are moreover extreme necessary, for both the hypocritical and the cowardly Lover, him that thinks to cheat the eyes of Heaven, as well as those of the World; and him that loves the sport, but believes it unnecessary to appear in the Fields of Venus with drawn Swords, and who thinks a treat of love never the more unsavoury for wanting the dry sauce of a bastinado, or the more genteel relish of a thrust in Cart.  Dor. 
Will any Man be fond of a Lady's company, coming hot from the embraces of a Stranger?  M. C. 
A Lady that uses this stratagem, should make her private Lodger believe, she has only in her own Chamber a precise Female Friend, or some such pretence: but as I was saying, These two sorts of men are always to be led blindfold into one of these amorous Cells, and though there were no need of this wary and severe conduct, yet it is necessary to make it seem so, by magnifying the danger they would both incur, if their commerce were found out by her keeper, who must be represented either a fight Blade, or one that loves to expose reserved and sober Lovers. On such terms the Cullies will pay any rate for a reserved entertainment; and think they arrive at the highest pitch of felicity, when they meet a Whore that pretends to love a secure privacy, and discreet to manage them according to their several failings. Such Squires will be credulous enough to believe this circumspection is all but necessary: so their appetites must increase as does the Lady's caution; and her dainties still the higher prized, the more seeming difficulties there go to the purchase: beside this, they may be made condescend to any terms, to wait of their Mistress at her hours, receive her assignations as may best square with her convenience, how prejudicial soever to their own; and will finally remain full well satisfied to get with Foot in Stirrup, one hasty embrace; and having once discharged, will straightway turn tail, as do the barbarous Moors after the first volley, not daring to abide the shock of a second encounter, like brave Christian combatants. They will persevere in their liberality, to procure a secret continuance of the amorous theft, much more, so they might be permitted to feed after the manner of the Country Mouse, without fear of disturbance, or danger of the Bullies rude visit, to make up an unwelcome second course. This the Whore must still fairly promise, but ever as slow in the performance, protesting she will study all means to secure a long entertainment, giving them by little and little larger hopes; so gradually draining their Pockets, she shall at length feed them with the prospect of a whole Night's regal. She may render her promises more plausible, and her pretences more authentic, by showing that her Guardian is soon to take a progress into the Country, where he intends to make some considerable stay; that then all things will naturally tend to their mutual pleasure and content; so the good man will live on these fancies, and lest he should be baulked of his hopes, will be sure to keep the jest warm, and alive with ready Money. These are the blessed minutes that bring in the golden Tribute, that dissolve these facile Deities into plentiful showers, with a short and an easy prayer, an empty and vain promise. Several of these intrigues may be carried on every day, in that they consume but little time, and do scarce admit of any impediment. Special heed must be taken to avoid confusion, which must be done by adjusting assignations to her best advantage and opportunity: and having strong excuses at hand, to apologise for any accidental or necessary failure. Let her call one of her Customers Brother, another Uncle, a third Cousin, that so the conversation of such being without suspicion; this may serve on occasion as a good reserve, to remedy any inconvenience that may happen from a jealous Servant, when such Friends are casually surprised, or taken napping in the House. It will be expedient that some of these Relations should sometimes make their visits, as if by accident, when they know the paramour is engaged with his Lady; who having civilly passed some time in an indifferent conversation, such as may bespeak consanguinity, and then formally taking his congé, with a, good night Cousin; will hereby justify the Whore's sincerity, and for the future remove all shadows of doubt from the formerly suspicious Lover. The pretext of being married may draw Customers, if well carried on of her side, and if she can likewise light of a lose fellow, who will not be wanting in playing his own part. I need scarce mention in this Rhetoric, the necessity a Whore has of keeping a continual and strict correspondence with some particular Bawd; it being a thing so well known, and universally practised. These Brokers are as necessary in love, as the Spaniel to the Sportsman, first to nose out the game, and then to drive it into the Net, or cunningly to surprise, till the Whore draws the Net over, and all fear of escaping is taken away: and then too they will Spaniel-like, if the Whore be not expert at her Trade, be too nimble for her in seizing the prey, and taking to themselves the first pluck. It will not be amiss however to conceal her keeping intelligence with these Emissaries, but especially from those they intent to possess with a belief of being kept, married, or a hater of multiplicity of amorous caresses. When a young Woman is often seen in company of any known she-Scout, every body will conclude her business is great, her designs general, and that she intends to prove a latitudinarian in Love. I would have her allow the Bawd, a certain proportion out of every pound acquired by the old Lady's industry and negotiation; And not any certain salary by the Month, Quarter, or Year; for seeing that were to be still the same, she might prove negligent and remiss in her Embassies: but when her gain is to increase proportionably with her own diligence, abundance of expedition may then be expected, and frequent returns of plentiful and secure profit. Herein imitating a discreet Merchant, who thinks it more for his advantage to allow the Pilot a small share in the Cargo, than a certain monthly stipend: wisely considering though his life be concerned in the welfare of the Ship; yet the hopes of lucre, are ofttimes more regarded than even the consideration of life itself, and may probably add more to his vigilance and care, than that first natural principle of self-preservation. When the Lady and her inamorato meet to Sup at the Bawd's House, (which must not be neglected, if she would not incur the old Dames displeasure, and endanger a rapture) she must not be wanting to find ways of enhansing the reckoning: what ever Wine the Spark likes, the young Lady must make some pretence for disliking the same at that time; I am sure the old one will be for a third: and the like rule being observed in eatables, variety of Wine and Dishes will easily mount before parting to a round sum. If there be an Oyster-Woman within half a mile, she shall be commanded from her Post, and pre-instructed to pass by the door at full cry, and if not called in by order of the treating Squire, to enter without invitation, opening one or two of the Cock-Oysters, (which she knows better by half than a Jockey does a found Horse) she will transgress the rules of good manners, in serving the Gentleman before the Lady, because forsooth, it is he must pay for the peck. So according to the season of the year, and what is most grateful to the old tooth, occasions will be found to introduce the several retailers, and the modest Lover no Christian liberty left, of saying yea or nay, but (to invert the vulgar saying) is forced to receive all whether Fish or not that comes to the Net The same method is to be followed, and larger opportunities of spending are then to be found, when the pair of Lovers lie all Night at the Bawds House.  Dor. 
Have these procuring Gentlewomen, accommodation of Beds in their Habitations?  M. C. 
Some have, and some have not. And that happens as the Bawds business and ability concur. These amorous Inns sometimes are furnished with all necessaries in Love, good Wine, neat Chambers, and delicate Beds. It is the custom in some of these for the Lady Procuratrix to furnish the Whore also; so for Lady, Supper, and Lodging the hungry guest may pay without any trouble, a certain sum to the Mistress of the Family: but then in this case you may believe, there will be no variety, as when the Gentleman does not stipulate in any certainty, but brings his Mistress along with him, and pays according to what he calls for.  Dor. 
I suppose Gentlemen would be for paying a certain sum for all together.  M. C. 
Then Child, they depend on the courtesy of the old Hostess in the choice of their Bedfellow, who is still qualified according to the Gentleman's extraordinary generosity. Didst thou never hear of the Inn by this Town, where one side of the House is set apart for weary Travellers, the other for languishing Lovers, where the Stage-Coach goes to one division; and the leathern Bawdy House to the other?  Dor. 
Never in my life.  M. C. 
I dare not speak it out, lest some body should overhear, and tell the Innkeeper, who would certainly bring his Action upon the Case, and recover damages, but I will tell thee in thy ear, it is the Swan at K. B.  Dor. 
This puts me in mind of the Italian I have heard on, That could look grave on one side his Face, and smile on the other, that laughed with one Eye, and wept with the other. And this, Mother, by a chain of thoughts brings Heraclitus Ridens into my memory,  M. C. 
Take care you have not forgot your promise of giving a serious attention.  Dor. 
By no means.  M. C. 
I would here adorn my Rhetoric with some Rules, by which my young Pupil might learn to impose on my Sisters of the procuring Trade, but that I foresee an absolute impossibility in the attempt. She or he that intends to sharp on a Bawd, (I will use that word) must get up before Lucifer, and be stored with more cunning, than was the old Serpent that cheated our Grandmother Eve. They have all exercised the Whore's Function, whilst any mortal man would give them leave, by joining in the business. And even after many years' practice of Bawdry, (I speak experimentally) they are overjoyed, when any rampant youth, overflowed with Wine, to show the greatness of his courage, and sharpness of his Stomach, will for once cure their Itch, by rubbing their superannuated Tails. Mr. Hobbs, Child, says well, that Wisdom is nothing but experience; so by consequence the Bawd must surpass all mankind in point of Wisdom, in as much as her experimental knowledge does exceed all others. She has read more Men than any mortal has Books, she has spent more oil and more pains in quest of knowledge, than the most laborious of the ancient Philosophers; and has been more unwearied in her nocturnal elucubrations, than the most severe of the old cloistered Monks. Let my Scholar then be advised by me, who is now grown old, and full of years in the exercise of both faculties; that it will be prudence not to aspire to this inaccessible point of knowledge; the Bawd will ever prove too hard for her in the Politics, though she invoked Hell to her aid. Let it suffice her to understand the old Rooks false Dice, to hinder herself from being passive in the cheat: if she aims higher, to reach at the forbidden. Fruit, she must not expect to reap knowledge thereby; but will only disclose her ignorance, and make her nakedness visible to herself and others.  Dor. 
I am mightily afraid of these Bawds, pray give me a particular account of their State-Policy. But sure Mother, they are not so cunning as Gypsies.  M. C. 
Egyptians, Child, are Asses to them; there is more difference between the two, than between a learned Physician and an impudent, assuming Mountebank. At our next meeting, I will give thee a taste of these sour Apples, or get one of my younger Sisters to do it at a fit time; I wish they may not set thy Teeth on edge.  Dor. 
Fear not that.  M. C. 
Next to these love Embassadresses now spoke of; it is fit my Disciple should make it her business never to want an interest in those Houses, where foreign Ambassadors and other Strangers of quality lodge. Among these there is never wanting good store of Gold, nor a number of Woodcocks, that will with open Eyes fly into the Net. It may be an argument strong enough to gain her a reputation, in the opinion of these Gentlemen, to pretend they are not to be admitted without a mighty privacy, her carriage and conduct being looked after with a jealous eye, that she might forfeit her dears kindness by taking this liberty: his generosity must be exalted at this time, that she may not seem to act out of a principle of necessity; so her caresses will be more valued and rewarded in an extraordinary manner; as men are commonly at greater expense in a Gentleman's House, than a public Inn. The same rule may be used to good purpose with some of her domestic acquaintance. She will find it much to her advantage, to inquire particularly into the state and quality of all her Suitors affairs, to hinder any disappointment or surprise: for if she has well informed herself of their busy hours, and when the necessities of their vocation, or the impulse of pleasure, do oblige their attendance; it will be easy to appoint times of meeting, as may give general satisfaction, and enable her to observe her particular engagements. This enquiry into the condition of her Lovers may be in another respect of no mean use. It is hard to know a man's temper from the lines of his Face, or any other extrinsic mark; and it is no less difficult to give a Judgement of his fortune, or estate, by his spending, or the figure he makes in the World. Some Men are for this day, and let to morrow provide for itself; others look on futurities; remember the precedent of the Ant, in providing against a wet day. Some imitate the Snail, I do not mean in their gate, but in carrying their Houses on their backs; others are solicitous to satiate their Bellies, and a third to replenish his Purse. A Whore then ought to understand Men in all these circumstances, to avoid contracting a familiarity, or making any strict alliances with such as live beyond their bounds, and promise in short time to become Bankrupts. This were an unnecessary precept, if I could suppose my Scholar, upon her guard on all seasons and hours: for than she might be trusted to deal with any extravagants, who are the best Friends, and the most generous Lovers, whilst the Fond lasts: and therefore are for a time extremely necessary; but when they break, it is almost impossible for a young Lady not to engage herself in their ruinous fortune. So that it is reasonable to suppose a Woman frail in this case: Daily experience, and the destruction of many credulous Whores, do evince the truth of this. They find their Gallants in the beginning of their amour, for the most part kind and generous; but in a few Month's acquaintance, familiarity will (if the Whore's discretion do not prevent it) blunt the edge of both, or at least the Squires want will produce the same effect. Let her then be acquainted with her Lover's condition, to know how long his stock will last, and when it may seem reasonable to discard him; which must be punctually put in execution, the first minute he becomes necessitated to fail in his usual respects: unless she intends to bring, not an old, but which is worse, an empty House on her Head, and be forced to contribute to the support of this useless and unnecessary tool. When fortune deserts the man, let the Whore do so too, without retaining the least sense of her old acquaintance, their mutual joys, or his past generosity.  Dor. 
In so doing she is but fashionable, and does but conform herself to the mode of the times, which I think a Whore ought always to observe, when public practice and her own interest do join hand in hand, and run together in the same stream.  M. C. 
She that exposes her Soul and Body for gain is more than a fool, to be influenced in any degree, by either the obligations of Friendship, the Laws of Justice or points of Honour. However, it is requisite she should on all occasions preach Doctrines quite contrary to what I have recommended to her own practice. She must make show of being disinterested in all her actions; that not one look, kiss, touch, caress, embrace, flows from any other source than the pure Fountain of an unspotted affection. When she is in company of her several Admirers, an indifferent reserved, and equal carriage will be convenient, unless it be found expedient at certain times, to show the most liberal and rich of the whole covey, some particular favours, whereby the others may grow jealous, and study to raise themselves in her good liking by some extraordinary piece of gallantry. Privately let each one be the Dear, and the Beloved: and let her feign the present Lovers joys are singularized with several prerogatives not dispensed to others, in that degree and quality. Let her pretend a mighty abhorrence to the embraces of many; and that she nauseates nothing in nature so much as to become a Prostitute to the lust of any, but him she actually enjoys. This will improve the sense of his pleasure, make each bit go down with a gusto, and as it swells his content, it will at the same time enhaunse her Tribute. Thus the consort of her amours will never be found to jar, but still in a condition to raise a harmonoius and seeming, if not a real satisfaction in their Souls, who come for the gratification of their exterior senses. I would have her forward on all occasions, to proclaim the generosity of any Servant, both to encourage the continuance of it by this counterfeit gratitude, and to excite others by this example to the like performance. This will be an infallible means to extort money from a wounded Lover, one who has folly enough to fall in love, and faith to believe a possbility of any kind returns; he will strive to exceed every body in profuse regals, not only to be respected in an equal degree with others; but likewise to banish all other pretenders from her grace and favour; whose person he will hope to engross to himself by supplying all her wants, and removing all necessity of depending on other Lovers. If he be a youth of Fortune, one fit for a Husband, let her not fail to play her part at this time, with more than usual dexterity. The same rules I have already given thee, will suit this occasion, and if opportunity be caught by the foretop, they will prove of force sufficient to overcome the weak and negligent guard, kept by unwary youth: provided also a propitious fortune do concur in the business. If Matrimony do not ensue, let her however not be wanting to pluck the master Feather from the Goose-wing, and to show her trophies to the next Bird that comes to the Net, to encourage him the more freely to part with his own: thus wheeling round in an eternal circle of fraud, she will fulfil the Vows of Avarice and Dissimulation, taken at her initiation; and soon place herself in a station beyond the reach of malice, or the strokes of fortune. It is unnecessary to prescribe any farther Rules to drain the enamoured Cully: he will suffer himself to be patiently flayed, and so becomes rather the object of her pity, the dishonourable trophy of an easy conquest, than the noble victim that withstood the force of repeated strokes; but fell at last a sacrifice to the  power of a well laid counsel, and the magical artifice of a counterfeit look. With young Men, that have lately dropped from under a Mothers or a Tutor's Wing; a Whores great work is at first, rather to captivate their Heart, than win their Purse; because enjoying the first, entitles her to an absolute Sovereignty over the last. A handful of Modesty, a drachm of feigned Piety, and a scruple of counterfeit Chastity, is a Recipe, with a probatum est, to intoxicate any tender Heart. Keep him fasting, he will pray with more zeal, nor will he fail to make his approach to the Whore's Shrine with a magnificent Oblation.  Dor. 
Pray, Madam, when the Bawd prescribes to a young Whore her Patient, who must be the Apothecary to compound the Medicine?  M. C. 
Thou hast just now entertained a wicked thought; for I fancy thou believest the Apothecary must be no less than Master Satan.  Dor. 
Ne'er stir not I.  M. C. 
I remember a Whore not many years since, that attempted several times to enslave a young rich Heir, who had just thrown off his Oxford Habiliments (though with a saving for the truth, because it might be he was of Cambridge) and had yet scarce wore off the gloss of his first London Suit. After the ill success of some projects, occasioned rather by unlucky accidents than either her ill management, or the Esquires discretion. She is at last resolved to make herself up to the Ears in Love, that she can neither eat, drink, nor sleep without the dear Creatures company: she entertains him several times at her own Lodgings, presents him with some toys of small value, and never a Week passes without some dying Letters conveyed to him by means of her trusty Maid, who at the delivery of each, harangues the Youth with her Mistress' quality and virtues: and that she had rather suffer a thousand deaths, than have her reputation exposed by a discovery of this epistolary correspondence. She entreats the sweet Boy to tear off the name 〈◊〉 bottom, (though the true name he had not yet known) lest any of them might be lost, or some other unthought of accident should make it known, that her Lady used this freedom, to which, she is sure, nothing but the greatness of her passion could have possibly inclined her.  
The milky Youth was far overcharged with all this weight of kindness; one might have seen all the Lady's favours writ on his Brow in large Characters: he went strutting up and down, showing the Letters, and the Presents, to all he met. This singular treatment raised him much above himself, firmly believing all her protestations real, as if they had proceeded from the simplicity of his own heart, and that the charms of Person and Parts had made this absolute conquest over the fair Lady. But withal her fondness slackened his respect, and the further she proceeded in the demonstration of her flame, the higher he stood on his punctilios, and at length arrived to that degree of familiarity (though not without a blush in his pretty Cheeks) as to reach his hand toward the basket of fruit, which she had resolved should be forbidden till the Parson had tied the knot, and given a blessing to their future endeavours.  Dor. 
I find you were particularly informed in this intrigue.  M. C. 
She thought it expedient to carry the joque one story higher; ordering a flippant young Fellow of her acquaintance, to call at her Lodgings, when he knew the Heir was there, and to personate a Man of quality, and a passionate Servant of her Ladyship. Accordingly the Mock-Lover comes, and as he was mounting the Stairs; the Lady desired her Dear (who came a little before) to retire into the Closet, for that the Knight, who was coming up was a troublesome Servant of hers, whom for his sake, she was forced to hate. The Youth obeys, and the Lover enters. He was a person well qualified for such a piece of Service, being by name a Player, one that could not walk the Street, but in the same method he trod the Stage, and was still full of the Hero he there represented. He had by several years' instructions attained the art of accenting a number of fine words, which he no more understood, than does the honest Parrot intent to abuse the Charioteer, when she makes him whip and drive, by having innocently cried, Coach, Coach. This Gentleman-actor was a plagiary for every thought of his mind, and every word that proceeded out of his regular Lips: The Poet, on whose person he daily committed notorious Robberies, is not by half such a bold borrower; for what the French or Italians lend him, he must at least be a Translator in the Case, to make it appear in a vulgar dress: or when he makes bold with his Country men, he then transubstantiates the matter, so that to a resigned judgement, and an implicit faith, it seems a new substance, without the least remainder of its original qualities.  Dor. 
If I do not interrupt you, you will make this digression too long. Therefore be pleased to remember how the Lady entertained the Player.  M. C. 
The Wight thus equipped entered the Chamber, made his honours to the Lady, and was by her received with those respects, his forged quality, his acquired merits, and her design might well challenge: after abundance of heroic Love, spoke sometimes in Prose, then in Numbers, he at length came plainly to unfold the scene of his passion; the Lady then began to act her part, telling him, in terms better than I can think of, That her heart was already preingaged to one, who tho' too too cruel, had yet forcibly captivated all her thoughts, and how insensible soever he proved, must ever seem charming in her eyes, and deserving all her Sighs and Tears, and all the Affection that could be crowded into a passionate and tender Soul.  Dor. 
What will all this come to?  M. C. 
The noble Histrio that day put on the face of a murdering Hector, though love was now his business; I will not be particular for fear of lying, but you may suppose it was Almanzor's, and that in his strain he spoke things that would have made Oroondates blush; but Almahide was that day clothed with more than ordinary cruelty, and in her purple Robes was about to pronounce the Sentence of death, or perpetual Banishment, when the Bravo made his exit, in hopes, as he said, That a gentler air would calm the disturbed Ocean of her Brow: the same did the beautiful Endymion, with more than usual state, having his Luna'S passion confirmed by the undeniable testimony of his own Ears. But in short, to come to the conclusion of the Lady's stratagem, and I to the end of my story.  Dor. 
That I earnestly long for.  M. C. 
The next time the adamantine Lover came to pay his Mistress a Visit; she gave her Maid orders to tell him her Lady was busy, and could not be seen at that time. At first he thought it was but the Maids own humour, but as he was pushing forward, she somewhat rudely repulsed him with the repetition of the same orders. He marched off with his usual gallantry; but not being called back as he expected, he presently began to discover in himself the symptoms of sorrow and repentance for his severe carriage to such a fair and such a passionate Lady. Those thoughts he diverted with some pain, for that Night, being confident to meet his Mistress next day in her usual temper. But coming at his old rate the following Evening; all his hopes were dashed in pieces, by a sharp message delivered him by the Maid, and a cruel Letter, such as he never could have dreamt of, from such a tender hearted and compassionate Maid.  Dor. 
What did the Letter contain?  M. C. 
I cannot particularly tell you, but I presume a lively representation of her just resentments. However it was, the Youth found himself struck with something more than ordinary thunder, and greater confusion than was Phaeton that day he fell from his Father's Coach-box. With much ado home he got all in a cold fit, with liquid Eyes, and Joints trembling, just as they would after a tedious and lingering distemper. He began to ruminate on this surprising alteration, he found himself guilty in all points; he was his own Accuser, his own Judge, and if his good genius had not hindered those dire effects, he had proved likewise his own Executioner.  Dor. 
Would not the Lawyers have then called him Felo de se?  M. C. 
The Lady appeared in his eyes far more lovely, and more ravishing than ever. Her Fidelity, Virtue, and the Constancy of her passion, were so many Vultures, preying on his broken heart: in fine, he was resolved to make amends for his past coldness, by the zeal and warmth of his future passion; and either recover his lost bliss, or follow his Brother Naroissus in the same or the like unseasonable fate. In these contemplations he spent the whole night, in spite of Morpheus and all his Opium. As soon as Madam Aurora gave him leave, he called for Pen, Ink and Paper, and wrote to his incensed Lady, the most passionate, most humble, and most penitential Epistle, that ever dropped from a Goose-quill.  Dor. 
What were the effects of it?  M. C. 
The angry Queen returned an answer, of force enough just to revive so much of his drooping Spirits as did enable him to appear before her. What she did, or what she said, I protest, Child, I have forgot. But this I can well assure thee, that within three days Hymen's noose was made fast, and I hear she proves a good Wife, and extreme happy in a most dutiful Husband.  Dor. 
I am this Lady's slave in a chain. She must indeed have offered her Husband abundant satisfaction, having been so well managed to his hand.  M. C. 
She was indeed, Daughter, a young Lady that had extraordinary charms in her person: and yet nature had taken more care in furnishing the inside, for she was Mistress of more wit than beauty.  Dor. 
I could almost fall in love with her.  M. C. 
If thou hadst seen her ingenious acquaint Love-Letters she wrote to her now Husband, thou wouldst be yet much more taken with her.  Dor. 
If your memory be so kind to you as to remember any of them, pray oblige me with a repetition, they may perchance be useful to me on the same occasion your Lady wrote them.  M. C. 
I remember some notions of one, but it would interfere with our business; besides I should do the Lady a great piece of injustice, to rehearse it in worse terms than it flowed from her Pen.  Dor. 
I shall rest satisfied to have it your own way.  M. C. 
I am willing to satisfy all thy desires. The Letter which I remember best, was comprised in these words.  
My Heart,  
THE consideration of the sinister fame that some ill Women acquire our Sex, does at present wholly confound me; who by their base treachery and dissimulation, discredit the virtue and sincerity of others. I am full of doubts and jealousies, My dearest life, that you do not judge aright of my passion, else there would be a return on your part, you would think it justice to give me your heart in exchange for mine you are already possessed of, at least endeavour to retaliate the ardour of my affection, and ease a dying heart of the torture of a burnning flame. Oh! Heaven protect me from the sin of infidelity. I shall cease to be a Woman, nay to be at all before this can ever prejudice the desire I have to be loved again. If inconstancy be inseparable from a Woman's Heart, I will deprive myself of life, to abandon those principles which render me unworthy of your affection, and make me an unfortunate Lover. Have you a care not to give way to injustice, cruelty, and ingratitude under the pretext of any unreasonable suspicion; for none of those ordinary failings can have any shelter, any receptacle in the purity of my faithful mind. If things ordinary and common are likewise contemptible, and if it is the scarcity that makes things valuable, my love can never be too highly prized, in that it is far from common, such as is no where to be found but in the centre of my own Breast, and can never admit of any parallel. If I have in any degree transgressed those rules of decency, young Ladies have prescribed themselves, it is you, and you only, that could have been the Author of my miscarriage. If you have made me forget the dictates a severe modesty would enjoin (which I had yet hitherto preserved inviolated) you ought not first to act the Seducer's part, and then likewise to inflict the punishment. I know the writing of this single Letter, is a crime, for which I never can make sufficient atonement, and yet I am irresistably hurried on to the committal of it. I clearly see those plain, and safe paths, honour and prudence have chalked out for me, but notwithstanding my uncontrollable fate drives me on in the rugged course of a precipitate and indecent love. Seeing then it is impossible not to love you, it is equally impossible my love should be fictitious. You may assure yourself, there can be nothing Womanish that is inconstant in that affection, which has for its basis the starry firmament of your charming countenance. That flame can never be corrupted nor consumed, that has chose for its seat the Heaven of your face, for its Sphere, the light of your bright Eyes, and the splendour of your shining Virtues. Be not then insensible, my precious hope, after my tears and prayers flowing from the untainted source of your Adorer's Eyes, and that pure fountain of immaculate love, the unfortunate Catherina's languishing and distressed Soul. I will again be guilty, by turning suppliant once more. Consider then I beseech you, my pain, of which you have been the sole cause. It is virtuous and just you should apply a remedy to those wounds, which as they have been created by you, so they can only be cured by an excess of your generous goodness.  
Katherine.  Dor. 
I like the Letter well; if it were not a little too tedious, and the flights seem a little too high to be thought real: among the old Romantic Heathens such braveries might pass, but they can scarce be digested among Christians.  M. C. 
It is very well, Daughter! First you will have me satisfy your curiosity, and then you find fault with what I say: like a bold Guest, that thrusts himself uninvited to a Gentleman's Table, and then finds fault with his entertainment.  Dor. 
Pardon me, Madam. A modest censure is no finding fault with what you say. The Letter was good, but every thing has its defects, so that is best which has the fewest imperfections.  M. C. 
She considered the person to whom she addressed herself: but many other Letters were more concise, of a more sober and persuasive strain. Pray Heaven, Child, thou mayest have virtue to follow the wise Katherine's sage and unerring footsteps.  Dor. 
Amen.  M. C. 
A Whore's eloquence, as if it were an artificial composition, has no small resemblence to the Body natural: for it pretends to a distinction of Members, some essential, others for ornament, which chaining together the several periods, render the work perfect, and entire. I will therefore follow the Idea this example sets before me, in giving some further Laws to make the conjunction more agreeable, in which consists the last part of a Woman's persuasive; and in like manner in this Venereal act, there are some things indispensably necessary, others, like a Fringe or Lace to a Petticoat, are added in conformity to the mode or humour of man, and so, requisite to make the Work agreeable and complete.  Dor. 
You still observe a regular method.  M. C. 
I would not here prescribe any set unalterable Precepts; because the Whore stands obliged to alter in many particulars, and change her method as may make the deepest impression in the capricious head of that Man she is about to persuade. It will be at all times necessary to gratify her Lover in the position of her Members, to place them in that part of the period, which may create most pleasure in his particular fancy. Let her industriously avoid all harshness or ruggedness, especially in those parts that are more exposed to the Lovers touch. A morbid smooth skin is one of Venus' chief attributes, and one of the Whores most forcible arguments. As her Bed must be clean, sweet and soft, so ought every part of her Body, to make it a scene suitable to the delicacy of amorous joys, let her be curious in her Perfumes, Essences, and sweet Waters, to procure the satisfaction of the smelling sense; which will much advance her Lovers joys, and make her appear a complete Sphere of delight and pleasure. My Rhetoric must not be deficient in showing the several slights, that may be fitly adapted, to captivate every Sense of a Man's Body, and each faculty of his reasonable Soul. She must be nicely clean in every action, and part of her life: not omitting to advance as much as possible, the natural whiteness of her Skin with the assistance of artificial means. An exquisite night-Dress for the Head is a thing not to be neglected by any Whore, that would be absolute in all her numbers, and one of those Lessons you are to learn among other things at your entering under the tuition of another Mistress, as I have said, you must for some Months. And yet if the Lady's Hair be short (as indeed it ought) and her constitution will bear it, she may well in my opinion, at warm seasons of the year, omit covering her Hair with any attire; which of themselves afford the Eyes, and Touch a pleasing diversion: and yet in that negligence there is a decorum to be observed, to render such a fantastical Undress more agreeable. All her Linen whether about her Bed, her Person, or belonging otherwise to her Lodgings, must be tightly neat and pure, as well as rich and costly. And when this cannot be had, the former must not be wanting.  Dor. 
I approve mightily of neatness in a Whore, as well as a luxurious magnificence, because in these you make her agree with a Lady of quality and reputation.  M. C. 
Assure yourself, Dorothea, that nothing advances a Whore's credit and reputation more than these external appearances of pomp and grandeur: as a stately and majestic deportment in her Looks, Gestures, Words and Actions, does forcibly extort respect and veneration; so costly , rich Furniture, do singularly advance her profit and advantage. The price of her vendibles does notably increase when they are dispensed in a splendid and magnificent Shop: and it is in this, as in other Trades, they that are richest, are ever thought to be furnished with the best Commodities, have most Customers, and sell their Ware at the dearest rates.  Dor. 
You gave me already a taste of this Doctrine.  M. C. 
Pray thee, Girl, do not put me off the Hinges. Dost know how Seneca excuses his repetition of the same Precepts?  Dor. 
No.  M. C. 
Because people, are again, and again guilty of those Vices, which he was reforming: Therefore (says he) my Precepts ought to be inculcated over and over.  Dor. 
It was morally spoke.  M. C. 
A glittering show dazzles the Eye, and wins much, on even the rational part of Man: he is ashamed to make any mean offers, when all things about him are full of pomp and gallantry: he will think it reasonable and consonant to good Manners, to be liberal, when he meets with luxurious fare; and a breach of one of the points of ordinary civility, not to proportion his generosity to the state aed quality of his entertainment. When he is hungry, and in haste, a man of business will sometimes sculk into a nasty Cook's Shop for a Six Penny Cut, which he would blush to talk of in any of the first rate Houses of Entertainment. Many Traders cannot maintain this advantageous Post of Pomp and Magnificence: those then that are Frigates of a smaller size, and lower Rate, must be stored with ready and easy excuses, to palliate the disorder of their weak Tackling. The pretence of having been lately snatched from under her Parents Wings, or deserted the embraces of a cruel Husband, may serve sometimes to gain her a reputation, of being sound fresh Food, and sufficient likewise to excuse a weak and a slender beginning. When this shame will not fix (do not interrupt me by finding fault with the word) let her feign some unlucky disaster, almost unavoidable, and which may be apt to move compassion: as that some barbarous Debauchée had lately seduced her out of her Virginity and Fortune, with the promise of Marriage, or Maintaining her as his Mistress, with a plentiful Annuity for life. Let her always exercise this cheat, as that it may appear, she is but a young beginner; for if the contrary be discovered, it cannot be supposed any youthful, or innocent miscarriage, but as in old Bankrupts, the effect of fraud, villainy and incorrigible lewdness. Whores are all knowing in that maxim of changing Names and Quarters, from one part of the Town to another; when they become cracked in their reputation. This is no ill project, to enable them to treat Lords and Grandees, with that flesh, which Porters would not have tasted at their former station.  Dor. 
This is to me a new thing.  M. C. 
The World, and so all men in it are governed by fancy and opinion: good and evil are therefore little understood as they are in themselves, but rather as they come represented to men's various and often vitiated palates. One will swallow a sliced salt Herring for the best Anchovies, he will pay his money as cheerfully, and take his rest as naturally, as if he had got a sincere Treat Another will carouse in plain Claret, and get drunk some hours the sooner, because he imagined every glass was of true Port.  Dor. 
He had better have left his fancy at home that Morning  M. C 
And a third will pay for a Duchess, and overact himself in that Faith; yet all the while he embraces (I cannot say a Cloud, because there is so much dirt) yet at best but her imaginary Grace, and in reality a common Strumpet.  Dor. 
Poor Cully!  M. C. 
Thus than it is plain, a Whore's work is no more than to be well skilled in legerdemains, to know how to raise a Fog, and artificially to throw it before the Fops Eyes: then all her Cheats, Slights and Juggles pass for Honesty, Sincerity and Plaindealing. Let her Frenchifie her Commodities, or, (to avoid ribbaldry) her Merchandise, not with that Country Pox, but with hard names, and Je ne sçaiquois.  Dor. 
You mean, What do ye Call'ums.  M. C. 
And then she may be sure the Gulls will swallow the Bait, be it never so unpleasant or hard of digestion. When she finds a Customer cool in his desires, and no great extravagance in the carnal appetite, she must raise his passion and warm his blood into a luxuriant heat by artificial incentives drawn in, all at the Window of a lascivious eye, and created by a gentle touch. Let nothing be disorderly or out of its proper place, for that a little adjusted with symmetry, is more effectual than a better stock not managed with the like dexterity. As to the body itself this is principally necessary, and nearly to be minded, in as much as every small blemish there is liable to nice observation, and very pernicious to the Lady's interest. Let her be tied in her , and when they cannot be of great price, let them have still something of a particular grace and beauty. Elegant colours not too gaudy, but yet adapted to the humour of love, must be chose when she cannot look big in the Majesty of pale Gold. Let her imitate the modes and dresses observed by the top Ladies, though she cannot always arrive at such variety of , or such costly ornaments.  Dor. 
These are useful Documents, and I presume may suit my circumstances, though spoke in the third person.  M. C. 
This Rhetoric is principally intended for thee, and every thing in't either directly, or obliquely may be of use to thee. Didst thou never hear the Parson speak emphatically of the wicked Man, and the pious, in the third person; and yet the Assembly applies things home to their own Breasts, as if directed to each particular Individual?  Dor. 
I am sensible of what you say.  M. C. 
Let the Whore then take particular care, not to betray herself, at the same time deceiving her Lover, by procuring a Gentile outside, without equal care had in the furniture of the inner Chambers. Such a one may serve to please a Passengers eye, but can never be fit for habitation or use. When the Gallant is excited to strong desires by the agreeableness of exterior ornaments; it will be no small disappointment to him, and disparagement to the Lady, to find under such fair promises a course or a dirty Smock. My pupil must not be guided by the French Man in this particular, who said, Who see whether me have Shirt or no? This Gentleman used, peradventure, to go to Bed without a Candle, and lie alone; neither of which can pass for a supposition in the Lady's case. Let her be industrious to remove all possible occasions of ill smells, the least tincture of these either from Breath, under the Arms, or elsewhere would be sufficient to palls the briskest courage, and nauseate the stronest appetite.  Dor. 
I must fancy, Mother, if a Gentleman were sharp set, he might lay aside these considerations.  M. C. 
I am not willing to suppose any imperfections in those that expect to live by this Trade. For Sparks are sometimes critical and captious at a Whore, as they are at a Dish of Meat that wants the new fashioned Sauce, though (as thou hast observed) they could dispense with some blemishes in the one, and the want of a modern Sauce in the other, if it were not in conformity to the mode; and they must seem men of polite and refined judgements, as well as of dainty and exquisite palates.  Dor. 
The Fops.  M. C. 
All the Rhetoric between Heaven and Earth, will never make the deformed handsome, or the crooked straight, some small peccadilloes are easily forgiven, and very oft not perceivable, if art and industry be made use of. The same qualifications which the Jesuits require in any youth they cull out for a Nursery of their Fraternity, are likewise necessary in all that aught to be admitted into the Whore's Seminary. The young Brother must have a good Face (the reason of this the good Fathers best understand) a ready Wit, and a confident and bold Genius. These are the three ingredients in point, (as Master Pleader speaks) necessary in a young Lady that would open her Shop to the best advantage.  Dor. 
And do you know the Jesuits reasons in desiring handsome pupils to breed up for their Society?  M. C. 
I do, Child. But I cannot tell.  Dor. 
As you please.  M. C. 
By way of charity however, I desire those that have any part of their Body vicious or out of order, not to expose those blemishes by any persuasion, force or importunity. If the Breasts be not sound, unfit to abide the test of a Man's hand, and to enhance the delights of a ravishing touch: let the Breasts be kept close bound, covering that defect with the pretext of keeping the Stomach warm.  Dor. 
I have laughed sometimes to see Women simper that had rotten Teeth, what a severe guard they kept over those putrified Bones, without ever daring to gratify their humour with a fine laugh.  M. C. 
In like manner a veil must be found to conceal every fault; though it should happen to be in those parts which ought to be armed with nakedness, to raise the value and sweet of the enjoyment. A Whore must not forget that her Bed is the Altar, where Cupid's Sacrifice is made complete and perfect; that it is therefore a duty incumbent on her, to see nothing there but what is tightly pure and clean, which is a thing religiously observed even by the most barbarous Nations, in their approach to a place they account so Sacred. A double portion of curiosity and neatness is requisite to understand, and how to use inoffensive washeses. Let them be still such as may give the Face a carnation-varnish, and yet leave the skin smooth and fine. Solid Paint has very ill effects, it brings roughness on the Face, and a necessity of continuing the application of it. Men had for the most part, rather excuse a little paleness or greenness, than see them supplied with a plastered face, or a daubed Lip.  Dor. 
How must I do to attain a critical knowledge in delicate washeses?  M. C. 
My book of Receipts at home will make thee abundantly knowing in that particular. Thou shalt there find exquisite washeses for the Face, for the hands, and for to make thy skin fresh and gay. There thou shalt see the Rules of making a water of an admirable Talk, of mighty virtue and use. Another Receipt for preserving and improving the Teeth. And a third for converting a stinking breath into a smell much like that of Clove-gilliflowers: beside a multitude of other choice Receipts for preparing cosmeticks and blanches, which I need not insert here, because I intent you shall peruse the book itself: But Dorothea.  Dor. 
Madam.  M. C. 
Pray do you never make use of any thing to improve your Breath, for the Breath is like Oil, when right without any smell; so any artificial aid does but create a suspicion, that it was once adulterated.  Dor. 
I shall remember this Precept.  M. C. 
Neither be too solicitous of being provided of Musk, Civet, and such like acute Odours.  Dor. 
Why so?  M. C 
Because they are good for those that are infected with evil smells. Therefore whilst thou art of thyself sweet and clean, milder perfumes will be more proper  Dor. 
I will be mindful.  M C. 
I am amazed at the folly, nay stupidity of many young Ladies, that debauch their Faces, and vitiate their complexions with all sorts of Paint, when nature has been kind, and as it were prohibited the use of this sophisticated stuff, by having there planted with her own hand a delicate mixture of Red and White  Dor 
'Tis certainly in such a great madness 'Tis as bad as to be constantly tampering with Physic, when one is perfectly sound and well in health  M C 
A seasonable blush is much more prevailing than any artificial supply: it is a token of modest, and yet an amorous sign: it is one of my sovereign Recipes to win a Man's Soul and Body, and command his Purse: It forces his Blood from the most secret recesses of his Heart, into those amorous parts that soon after pullulate (if it can be so said) into a dying transport In this act care must be taken, to avoid a troublesome improportion: neither leaving the gate of Love so wide as the Passenger may enter without a touch of either side; nor yet on the other vicious extreme, embarassing him too much with a forced and an artificial straitness. Art may serve sometimes to mortify nature a little, but should not be permitted to confound her, by any piece of unnatural extravagance. Industry will indeed be necessary in old Traders, to moderate the excess of that Port which swallowing up the Man of War at one morsel, does miserably shipwreck the Sailor's expectation, and deprives him of the better part of his pleasure. It is supposed, a Lady of good practice may have each day many Clients knocking at the Closet door: by which means the Stairs will be wet and the Passage slippery, by the frequency of those that come with Fee in hand, to discharge themselves of their superfluities. It must therefore be her care to remedy this inconvenience, by keeping all clean, and dry, repeating her care after the departure of every Client. A drying Pessary will be proper on this occasion, for the preparation of which there is a particular method in my Book. A mixture of Wine with some restringent Waters, and the curd of an Alum Posset, may be fitly used in an idle interval to contract the lines of Longitude and Latitude into their original and proper bounds.  Dor. 
I protest, Madam, I believe you know more than all the World beside.  M. C. 
The most delightful and pleasant sailing is in a straight and narrow Sea, between two pleasant Shores.  Dor. 
Because there is no apprehension of danger, not fear of shipwreck.  M. C. 
A Man would not grudge to pay any impost at his entrance into the mouth of such diverting straits, which he would not do in a boundless and wide Ocean, without the Rhetoric of some broadsides. It must be the Whores indispensable duty, to keep a continual and strict watch, that no pert man of War, with top and Top-gallon of flattery and dissimulation, driven by the strong winds of impudence and importunity, should dare to pass that way, without first disbursing the usual tax. A connivance in this particular would discredit her Government, bring her Policy in question, and encourage every pitiful Privateer to steer the same course, in hopes of the like success.  Dor. 
It is fit a Man should first sow his coin, before he be suffered to reap the fruit of Pleasure. And methinks he should be laughed at if he expected any other: what would his Haberdasher say to him, if he came to entreat the gift of a Beaver; or his Draper, if he asked half a dozen yards of Cloth without money?  M. C. 
My dear Novice, let me kiss thee for that wise Aphorism.  Dor. 
Go on, pray Mother.  M. C. 
I would have my Disciple keep a good correspondence with some skilful Physician, or some expert Venereal Doctor. These are as necessary in the war of Venus, as in that of Mars; because the casualties are as different that may befall a Female Combatant, as any the most adventurous and daring Soldier. The Lady is on duty every day, and being sometimes forced in her single person to face whole Armies of fight Men, and Volleys of Shot, it is odds but some of them hit, and disable her from further service; if the Gallenist or Empiric were not at command, to assist with his healing hand. She must liberally dispense her talents to the Doctor gratis, as he his eleemosynary Pills. When any disaster happens a friendly. Physician will take care with hasty Medicines to remove the virulence that she may be fit to go on in the exercise of her Function, and then at better leisure complete the cure: though I confess it were for her advantage as to her Body, to attend a perfect recovery before she ventured into the Field.  Dor. 
That is certainly true; or at least I am very apt to believe it.  M. C. 
I would have her cautious not to entertain any commerce with her generous and constant Customers, till she can pass her Word for the soundness of her Ware: otherwise she will lose her reputation, and endanger breaking. But as to those that come accidentally en passant, for a recruit, to her magazine, this caution need take no place in her consideration. When she intends to rid herself of a decayed Minion, the time she is not well may be a fit opportunity to give him his Writ of Ease.  Dor. 
Ha', ha', ha', to one she intends to dismiss with a Pox?  M. C. 
It may hold as well here, as when a decrepit Judge gets his Quietus (as they call it) only to give the Gout and Stone larger opportunities of tormenting that superannuated piece of mortality, without any diverting impediment.  
THus the good old Lady terminated her first days Discourse, to the no small satisfaction of her fair Pupil: who was much overjoyed at the hopes she entertained of such a blessed alteration, in her affairs, as, she doubted not would be the effect of her School-mistresses providential care. They got up from their Seats by mutual consent: Mother Creswel, to yawn and stretch her aged Limbs; being tired with long sitting, and no less wearied with bearing such a large share in that days Dialogue. The like did young Dorothea, as having either the like necessities, or that she thought it civil to sympathise thus far with her kind Mistress. After they had entertained one another some small time in an indifferent conversation, Dorothea remembered by her Stomach, that Dinner time was already past, and therefore thought it expedient to lay the Cloth, whilst the Maid made ready such Provisions as the Cavalier's House could afford. It was for the most part so slender, that the Master of the Family did seldom dine at his own Table, but was willing to invite himself abroad among his old Friends, who had not been so unfortunate, as to spend their Patrimonies, in hopes of any incertain futurity. This gave the Virgin much solitary leisure, and at this time a fit opportunity of hearing the Bawds Lectures, without the danger of any disturbance. Among other passages at Dinner, she asked her Daughter particularly of the state her Father's affairs were at present in; How he stood affected as to his Morals, his temper and disposition, and many such minute circumstances; that from the knowledge of those she might infer her own conclusions, and the most plausible means, her Scholar might make use of to relinquish her Parent's House, and put herself under the tuition of a new chose Mother. Dorothea told her to that, She was sure his humour was such, as that he would never consent to part with her on any indirect terms: but being now on the borders of old age, and weary of the Town, he had resolved very soon to retire, and end his days in the solitude of a Country life. This was pleasing news to the decripit Hag, who else might have been disappointed in her hopes of propagating her Faith, by adding this Maid to the number of her Converts. It was then resolved, Dorothea should remain in Town after her Father's departure, under the pretence of getting into some creditable Service: to which they concluded, the Gentleman would readily agree, as not being himself capacitated to make any better Provision for his Daughter. When Dinner was ended, and all fit measures taken in order to the adjusting that affair, and removing any stops that might fall in the way: The Lady Abbess took leave of her young Probationer, to dispatch some affairs of her own elsewhere; having promised to return next Morning about the same Hour she had done that day.   

The Second Dialogue.  M. C. 
HOW does my Jewel do to Day, and how has she digested the Documents she lately received?  Dor. 
I find them very agreeable, good Mother: However you know nothing can master a young Stomach, and therefore am very joyful to see you returned, in hopes you will give me a second taste of the same fare, to complete at once the knowledge and satisfaction of my mind. But before you enter upon that business; pray have patience till I tell you a strange Dream I dreamt last Night.  M. C. 
Let's hear it.  Dor. 
Will you then give me the interpretation of it?  M. C. 
I will.  Dor. 
This Morning a little before day, methought I was in a large, high and spacious Room, which as I fancied was furnished with the richest and most lively Tapestry that I had before ever seen. Over this costly Arras there hung all about the Room, rich gilt Swords, of all fashions, French, Germane, Polonian Scymeters, and Spanish Toledoes, fine Beavers, a great number of Point Cravats of all sorts, Venetian, those which come from Paris, and the other we have from Lorain; some furred Gowns, such as Aldermen wear; two or three Sergeants Coifs, a number of Lawyers. Gowns, some Velvet Coats and Ebony Canes, a multitude of embroidered ones, some Scarlet, others of Crimson-Velvet, with many more braveries that have slipped my memory. At one side of the Room there stood a sumptuous Bed, the Curtains whereof were all Cloth of Gold; near the Bed there was a magnificent Chair of State, such as I once saw at White-Hall, whereon the King sits when a Foreign Ambassador is admitted to his first Audience. In this Throne, I thought, I saw myself seated, with a regal Sceptre in my Hand, and a Crown of Gold on my Head: round about me there stood almost as great a variety of Beasts as were said to be contained in Noah's Ark, as Asses, Sheep, Buffles, Foxes, Peacocks, Woodcocks, several sorts of Owls, Dotterels and Gulls; in tormenting all these I fancied myself mightily pleased; I took singular delight in beating some and pricking others, in pulling the Peacock's Trains, and the Feathers from the other Birds: all which methought they suffered with marvellous patience; without any sign of anger; nay the Beasts licked me from top to Toe, showing marks of content in being thus cruelly treated. After I was weary of this exercise, I thought all the Brutes disappeared, and that there only remained with me a little Fox, that was grown grey with age, that had by some accident lost his Tail almost to the Rump, to which was fastened a Bag of Money so large that the Animal was scarce able to draw it after him; but yet with much ado, I perceived him scramble into the stately Bed; where I had not imagined him settled any time, before there returned a stately young Buffle fat and comely (by the by, Mother, I never saw this Creature, but by desciption suppose it is like one of our Bulls) who forcibly took me on his Horns, from whence I could by no means free myself, till the Bull gave me leave to alight in the midst of a mighty Forest, and there methought I was forced to draw in a Yoke with this wild Beast: the fright of which awakened me in great confusion. And now I desire to hear you declare the meaning of this extravagant Vision.  M. C. 
This Dream, Daughter, I can unriddle better than ever Lily could, or his disciple Gadbury. The Asses thou kicked and abused, are the wretches, that will on the score of Love, cheerfully submit to those rigid Laws, and that severe yoke thou shalt hang about their necks. Robbing the Peacocks of their beautiful Tails, denotes the dexterity thou wilt use in rifling young rich Heirs of their money; the Foxes signify certain old crafty Lovers, whom thou shalt entrap with some baits, I will prescribe thee anon; The Owls, Gulls, and such others are a rascally rout that will be fleeced and plucked with more ease than thou canst speak or walk.  Dor. 
What becomes of all the rest?  M. C. 
Soft and fair, Daughter. The magnificent Room shows thy future grandeur, and the pomp thou shalt live in. The gallantries stuck round, are those trophies thou shalt win, and the tribute that will be paid thee by all sorts of Men; and the royal Chair imports the honour the world will pay thee.  Dor. 
You have forgot the old Fox, and the young fat Buffle, that carried me away.  M. C. 
Behold now that my Prophecies are already half fulfilled: The old Fox is an old Gentleman, who will for some time have the honour to be thy Keeper; his wanting a Tail, and having instead thereof a bag of money, shows thy old Lover's impotence, that he shall have lost the faculty of dispensing venereal pleasure, but instead of this will impart largely of that Treasure wherewith he seemed overcharged. The last part is, after thou hast lived sometime at large, and gained extraordinary honour and reputation, as thy Dream prognosticates, and then come for a short time under the tuition of an old Guardian, that finally, a young fat Buffler. that is, a young rich Country Gentleman, carried thee on his Horns, that is, in his Coach, to a Forest, to his Mansion House: now what dost think drawing in one yoke implies?  Dor. 
I cannot guests.  M. C. 
That thou mayest be linked to this Squire in the yoke of Matrimony, Child.  Dor. 
You have indeed given me entire satisfaction: pray Heaven, Mother, you prove a true Prophetess.  M. C. 
Never doubt it, dear Child, There are, I am sure blessings for thee in store; if with an industrious and vigilant hand, thou wilt turn Fortune's wheel to thy own humour.  Dor. 
I thought this Wheel had been , not to be stopped in its motion.  M. C. 
No such thing. Good Fortune follows well laid counsels, as naturally as the shadow does the Body. Therefore, Dorothea, think not to become great and fortunate without a laborious industry: neither be in any wise diffident of success, if proper means be used to arrive at the designed end.  Dor. 
I will be guided by you in all things. So I desire the continuance of your favours, in giving me your further instructions, and proceeding in your own method, which, Madam, if I well remember, engages you to give me light into the particular humours of some Men, you thought fit to mention in yesterday discourse.  M. C. 
A Whore indeed ought to have skill in Physiognomies. Reading Men is the great work of her life. As it is among Gentlemen, a main principle of policy and prudence, and even more necessary than understanding Books; so in a Whore it is not ornamental only, but an essential part of her breeding and qualification.  Dor. 
Books are, in my opinion, the only sure foundation; but the beautiful superstructure must be ever raised by conversation, travelling, experience, all which is comprehended in reading Men.  M. C. 
Thou hast spoke discreetly, Girl. But yet I fancy it is a little unnatural for fifteen to talk at thy wise rate.  Dor. 
I ought to have some degree of wit, to make me comprehend your sage instructions, which I hope will in the end make me wise indeed.  M. C. 
What sort of Lovers will you see first delineated?  Dor. 
You have already touched on several degrees of Youth, pray now a little of old Age, which in point of decency ought to have had the precedence, and it seems by your Prophecy and my Dream, that I am to be acquainted with one of those hoary Heads.  M. C. 
From whom thou mayest expect dainty Fare, rich Presents and costly , and indeed every thing Ladylike, if thou canst discreetly comply with his peevish humour, and dispense with the want of due benevolence.  Dor. 
Would not that be a hard task?  M. C. 
I have already settled the limits in that case I have told you on what terms I would allow a Lady the liberty of cuckolding her Keeper.  Dor. 
But have these disabled old Soldiers no power to handle their Arms?  M. C. 
As much, Child, as I have to manage a hard Crust with those few Stump I have yet remaining. Hast thou never observed, when a Candle burns down into the Socket, and when the flame gins to want nutriment, how it is sometimes up, and sometimes down, one while it seems quite extinct, and then of a sudden it makes a faint resurrection?  Dor. 
That I have often remarked, for it always happens, if the Candle is suffered to burn down, and a Save-all wanting.  M C 
Then, Child thou hast seen the natural emblem of an old Man's vigour.  Dor 
Ha', ha', ha'. I fancy you have given me a lively representation on't. But what use has such a decripit Wretch for a Mistress?  M C 
The same a Miser has for his Bags, he loves to be contemplating the beauty of his bright Treasure, but has it not in his power to turn one Penny to its natural use Thus the old Squire pays his respects to his Virgin, in teazing her, and tumbling her over and over, and fumbling her from Head to Toe  Dor 
Well Mother, nothing but a Lordly generosity could make a Woman endure the impertinence of these Impotents.  M C 
Hanging about her Neck for hours together, then hiding themselves under her Petticoats, to raise their decayed appetites by the warm sauce to be found under those Robes.  Dor. 
What if all that is not of heat enough to inflame their i'll Blood?  M C. 
Then they fall to dallying and sucking the Pappies, as if they expected to extract thence some sovereign Cordial, that would introduce a new Spring into their frozen Hearts, and snowy Heads.  Dor. 
It is natural for an old Fellow to be fond of the Pappies, if the Proverb be grounded on truth, which makes him a Child the second time  M C 
I must still laugh, when I think of the excuse he has, when all his endeavours have proved ineffectual in the matter of erection.  Dor. 
What is the excuse?  M. C. 
He will lay all the fault on the back of too much Love, as if the extremity of his passion had hindered the usual effects of an ordinary flame.  Dor. 
That is well indeed; ha', ha', that a flame should be extinguished by throwing on more Fuel! I would as soon believe a Man could be so hungry he could not eat, or so dry that he could not drink.  M. C. 
Thou must exercise all thy Christian Virtues, especially thy patience and moderation, to abstain from laughing, when the old Romancer enters on the Stage of his own exploits. He ever talks at the rate of twenty mile an hour, and if thou wilt credit himself, Orlando the Wight, was a dastardly Coward, if put in the Scale with this venerable Hero. It is odds if sometimes in a rapture a-Bed, he do not get astride of thy Back, to demonstrate how he managed his Horse at Naseby fight. And because he must be deficient in the more substantial performances, it is necessary, he thinks, to talk big.  Dor. 
I should instantly dismount him, if his Worship tried any such tricks on me.  M. C. 
It will be no easy matter to forbear smiling, when thou shalt see thy old Guardian dress and undress. And the pleasant figure he will make in his Jerkin and nightcap. Thou must be at the pains to assist at the swaddling him up, and the uncasing him of his multiplied Flannel.  Dor. 
Will nothing less defend him from the cold?  M. C. 
Because he is not able in many particulars to infringe the Law, he will in those points seem a religious observer of it. And his veneration for Acts of Parliament, makes him think it a duty incumbent, to bury his own Carcase in Woollen: and to take off the more of this manufacture, he uses as much about his own Corpse, as would make him three Sheets, such as he is to lie in, in the Grave, when he is become one degree more mortified.  Dor. 
I could pity this spectacle of mortality.  M. C. 
Thou wilt find matter of pity and contempt both, to find such strong insatiable desires, lodged in such a shrivelled Body. When one hand must be employed in administering Lozenges, or Penets to stop the Catarrh that crucifies him every moment; thou wilt be a little surprised to see the other busy, fumbling at the amorous parts of thy Body, to provoke the old Lecher to a higher pitch of Lust.  Dor. 
You make me fancy, I see the old Fobus before my Eyes.  M. C. 
It is impossible to express the hugging, squeezing, antic gestures, and ridiculous expressions the old dotard will use on this occasion, just such as Nurses prate to their foundlings, who understand not what they say.  Dor. 
And all this to no purpose.  M. C. 
Hast thou ever had the opportunity to view the efforts of a sick person, that would spit into the floor without defiling his Bed? how many essays the infirm wretch will make to leave his giddy head, which is as oft forced back on the weary Pillow? and after he has in vain tried to ease himself by his own strength; he is glad at length to make use of his Nurses helping hand.  Dor. 
What then?  M. C. 
So, Child, this decrepit Minion, this sickly lover, will never of himself be able to elevate his drooping courage, unless thou raise and encourage him with thy warmer hand. If thou wouldst have him spit in the proper place, thou must chase him like a mortified piece of flesh, scratch him in every wrinkle, tickle him in the Flank, and under the Arms. A wanton Sonnet in a soft low Air will not be amiss to moisten this insipid Animal. Ask him, who is his own pretty Whore, his Flesh and Blood, his Daughter, his Dalilah, his Honey, his Sugar? and a thousand such wretched fooleries.  Dor. 
A Woman had need be well paid for all her trouble, in nursing one of these superannuated Babies.  M. C. 
That is never wanting, Child. But then after all thy industry, when thou hast animated the insensible log, and inspired it with a faint venereal motion, the terrible trial of thy patience is then at hand.  Dor. 
As how?  M. C. 
Why, Daughter, I must tell you, when the crazy Lover is emboldened to pay a debt, he has for many Months owed Cupid; he will be so tedious and nauseous in the performance, he will go near to tyre any Woman of ordinary Flesh and Blood.  Dor. 
What should one do in that case, it is but throwing him out of the Saddle.  M. C. 
That would be an irreparable injury, never to be forgiven by him. He would sooner mortgage his Soul, nay one of his Bags, than suffer any interruption in his amorous effort.  Dor. 
I find it will be no easy matter to humour the old Fox, no consideration but the bag at his tail could prevail with me.  M. C. 
He will sweat more than a Dray Horse, or one in the Bagnio, tho' one would think it impossible, a Chemist could extract half so much moisture out of such a miserable Creatures dry Bones. He will beg thee a thousand times, and more earnestly than ever he did the remission of his sins; to wait till his retentive nature, after long solicitation, can be forced to squeeze out a loving tear.  Dor. 
This than must needs be a fit time to chouse the old Cully out of a Summ.  M C 
Thou hast well said, for there is nothing so dear to him, he would not part with to be humoured in this critical juncture. If thou canst get the way of exciting him to the youthful game, the exquisite arts of hastening the pleasure, and bringing off the disabled Warrior from the assault with honour and reputation; there is nothing between Heaven and Earth, he would not procure for thy satisfaction: his Body, his Soul, his Money, will all truckle to thee, thou mayest command him more absolutely than the Grand Signior does the meanest of his Vassals; and therefore interest requires indispensably abundance of discretion at this time to purchase the desired reward of thy perseverance.  Dor. 
This is a great encouragement: but the Precept seems extreme difficult and rigid; for I have heard experienced Women say, that nothing in nature is so fulsome, as to be bound to endure the repeated strokes of a drowsy embrace, after the Woman has acted her own part. It is like sitting at Table with a full Belly, to endure the steam of a fresh course, and see a new set of Guests fall to, Tooth and Nail.  M. C. 
For that, Daughter, I must tell you: a Whore is a Whore, but a Whore is not a Woman; as being obliged to relinquish all those frailties that render the Sex weak and contemptible. A Whore ought not to think of her own pleasure, but how to gratify her Bedfellow in his sensitive desires: She must mind her interest not her sport; the Lover's sport, the ruin of his interest and the emptying his Purse. The unthinking part of Women place all their worldly happiness in the centre of venereal Pastimes, and they are all Mahometans so far as to wish a continuance of them in the world to come; though all these things are enjoyed by Wolves, Bears, Cats, Dogs and Rats, in an equal, if not a larger measure than what we can pretend to.  Dor. 
That is even a sad consideration; but why in a larger measure?  M. C. 
Because our reason checks us in the midst of the pleasure, imposingly telling us, It is all but Vanity; therefore you must think it reasonable to endure the fatigue of an old sordid embrace, for your own benefit, without foolishly regarding the present titillation, or the pain of continuing after that is over.  Dor. 
I will endeavour to obey you.  M. C. 
The contrary practice of many impolitic Whores, does manifest the truth of this, who following their fancies more than their judgements; and loving to please their Eyes and not their Reason in the choice of their Friends, do become in a short time poor, beggarly and miserable, rejected of the world, and most of all by those Men to whom they afforded most plentifully of their free love.  Dor. 
This is a political Maxim.  M. C. 
Thou hast now engaged thyself, as it were to run a Race, by the loss of which thou must expect to forfeit thy ease, pleasure, liberty, and in a word all earthly satisfaction. Thou knowest it is not always the Horse that gets the start, who wins the Plate, but he that perseveres in his swiftness, and maintains his first vigour in the last heat. Thy case is much the same, thou art preparing thyself to appear in the Field of Love, whilst I act the part of a faithful Groom, to feed thee with Precepts suitable to the exercise thou hast undertaken. Instead of air Morning and Evening, I enjoin thee a daily repetition of this Rhetoric: which will, if old Creswel understands the World, enable thee to carry away the golden prize of Love.  Dor. 
You frighten me with this similitude; the danger of miscarriage is so great: it is an even lay I come off a loser, because you know it is impossible both should win.  M C. 
This is only to heighten thy care and vigilance, as Parsons think fit sometimes to scare their Flock into Heaven, and gall them with dreadful corrosives.  Dor. 
That is only in the beginning of their Sermons, but they conclude generally with Balsam and Lenitives.  M. C. 
Those I have already applied to thee. I have inspected the Table and Lines of thy Hand, and by my Chiromantick skill have already told thee that blessed influence thou wast born under.  Dor. 
What skill is that?  M. C. 
Palmistry, Child. And tho' thou knowest thyself to be one of the little flock, within the pale of ease and plenty, yet, I hope that consideration will not slacken the reins of thy industry, and conformity to the Laws of thy profession, as it does in our Modern Babes of Grace.  Dor. 
What Babes do you mean?  M. C. 
Though it is not seasonable to answer thy Question, yet I had rather be irregular, than not satisfy thee. They are, Child, a people that call themselves the Elect, the Children of Adoption, who believe they cannot fall; or if they slip at any time, it shall not be, imputed to them. What the World calls rebellion, is in them a taking the Sword out of the hands of the Mighty; and that Plunder, Rapine, and Sequestration are in the Saints only, civil ways of Borrowing as the Israelites did from the Egyptians.  Dor. 
I do not well apprehend you; and I suppose it is not material whether I do or no. Pray return to the old Gentleman, he is grown cold by this time for want of moving.  M. C. 
I will only advise thee to be extreme reserved before the old Flogger: for that he is the most jealous Animal of the whole creation.  Dor. 
As being conscious to himself of most imperfections.  M. C. 
If thou laughest, he thinks it is at him; if a sudden cough overtake thee, he will swear it is in derision of his hoarse Throat: if thou happenest at any time to stagger or stumble, straightway he fancies it is in imitation of his gate: if to hinder the effects of a troublesome Corn, thou wearest thy Shoe open a little at top, it must be in contempt of his Gout: thou must scarce touch his Spectacles, for fear of being thought to reflect on his Eyes: thou must keep thy Head and Hands steady, lest doing otherwise should be interpreted a flouting of his paralytic Members: nay thou scarce mayest take the liberty to rub thy Teeth with a Napkin, as is customary after meals.  Dor. 
Why so?  M. C. 
Because it is great odds but his are lose, and so he will think it an imposing on him to use that freedom with thy Teeth which he dares not with his.  Dor. 
How is it possible to regulate one's self in all these petty circumstances?  M. C. 
Custom, Child, and the sweets of his wealth will make them easy: Besides, when once thou hast gained upon him, and made him entertain a good opinion of thy discretion, he is for ever after easily kept blind, if thou dost not carelessly suffer him to stumble on something that may force him to open the remainder of his Eyes.  Dor. 
It is sufficient I have Father greybeard in my Eye, and shall know how to handle him without a Constable.  M. C. 
If you remember; one of my first Lessons was to avoid empty speculations, which in our Idiom signifies no more than not to love any Man for the titles of Genteel, Handsome or Witty, unless these qualifications be attended with the solidity of a weighty Purse.  Dor. 
It is reasonable, but I presume a little difficult exactly to follow that rule.  M. C. 
I do assure you, if my Mother's Clay were animated a second time, she could not oblige you with a Precept of more use or comprehension, and she was one of the wisest of the Daughters of Men, nay, or Sons, saving Solomon his right. Therefore Dorothea you must take more than ordinary care in this point, on the critical observation of which does much depend a Whore's Fortune and advancement. On this score, I am against your reading Romances, where constancy in love is cried up as a virtue, and dying Lovers make up a great part in the Pageantry. The Modern Comedies are a Lecture much more adapted to the interest of my Scholar, for there you will find fraud and dissimulation called discretion and prudence: cuckolding Husbands, cheating Lovers, prudently styled Address and Wit. And for obscenity I recommend those pieces to you, where you may be supplied with a better stock than I can in Conscience expose in this my Rhetoric.  Dor. 
You have proceeded hitherto in modest terms, however I understood your meaning. But seeing it concerns me so highly not to be in love with any person; I desire you will prescribe me some Antidotes in case I should unawares suck in any of that fatal poison: for I must confess to you, Mother, I can hardly trust myself in this case; I fear a good Dress, and a good Face, might yet have on me dangerous effects.  M. C. 
Alas! that is one of the infirmities, and one of the curses which the first Woman's sin entailed on the whole Sex. I could make thee a longer Preachment against Love, than Baxter did on a Thursday Morning; I could come to the Nineteenthly, if I did not believe thy own discretion informs thee, the least spark of this dangerous fire would infallibly ruin all thy hopes of good fortune, and thy prospect of any future felicity: let my costly experience teach thee Wisdom: a small sincere flame was my bane, and in the whole course of my years, I never knew any one Whore escape a miserable and a beggarly end, who was so weak as to entertain any spark of a true love. Do but consider the impertinent causes of this silly effect: that the most insignificant circumstances about Men, as their Garb, and such like are the strong Philters that captivate the weaker Sex. It is certainly true, that Women are caught for the most part in such weak Nets as these, that the most shallow, the most insipid, nay, the ugliest of Men have been the most successful in gaining an ascendant over the hearts of poor Women. You must know, Dorothea, that no Man is valuable on any endowment that proceeds not from the Soul; what ever owes its original to the Body, is brutal, because Beasts enjoy it in an equal measure with Men: nay, in every particular they are outdone by some mere Animal, The Ox is stronger, the Horse is swifter and the Goat more salacious, till humane nature is debauched by art. I never knew a Lady enamoured of any Gentleman, for being an expert or a brave Soldier, loyal, learned, or wise, whereas these are the only qualifications that create a real distinction between Men, and make one Man more worthy than another. Seeing then the noble, the amiable part of Men is not able to kindle a flame in a Woman's Breast, let her never be enslaved by any thing that is of a far more vile, base and degenerate nature: if she be secure of receiving no wounds from the valiant, and the wise, she will sure be able to guard herself from the darts of dastardly Fools. It must needs be a sufficient preservative against love's infection, to consider that the spruce incentives, the Sparks who are most dangerous, have never any thing in them, but what their Dancing or Singing Masters were pleased to retail unto them.  Dor. 
This might pass for orthodox out of the Pulpit.  M. C. 
You desired a Prescription in this case, and therefore I will procure you a Root, a little of which grated, as you would Nutmeg, upon a glass of any liquor in the Morning fasting, will infallibly preserve you from all amorous impressions.  Dor. 
What is the name of that rare Root.  M. C. 
Misanthropia is the name our Drugster's give it.  Dor. 
I never heard such a name before. Misanthropia, is it so you call it?  M. C. 
Misanthropia, my Heart, is the term of art, that properly signifies Man-hating; so the Root had its name, as most others have, from the virtues and effects of it, which are to create in Women, a hatred of Men, or at least to keep them in a cool state of indifference.  Dor. 
Doth it grow in England?  M. C. 
No Child, nor in any part of Europe, or the World indeed; save in one Region of Asia, called the Amazon Country.  Dor. 
I remember to have read somewhere (in Cassandra, I think) of these Viragoes; how they inhabited, and commanded their own Country without the help of Men, and that they banished every Male into its Father's habitation, as soon as ever it saw the light: but I confess, I was till now wholly ignorant how they came to assume this courage, and hatred of Men; which I suppose now proceeded from the use of this Root, that grew among them.  M. C. 
That is indeed the very individual reason.  Dor. 
But I likewise remember, that a Queen of that Country fell in love with Alexander, in his conquest of Asia: it seems her Majesty forgot to use this remedy; or at least the Conqueror's charms were stronger than the virtue of Misanthropia.  M. C. 
I know not where you got that fabulous Story, it must be out of some Romance; for my Author who is reputed an authentic and faithful Historian, tells me, That Thalestris (for that as I remember was the Queen's name) came to Alexander as a Sovereign Princess, not as a whining Lover, with a splendid band of her own Subjects, not like an humble suppliant, commanding rather than entreating that great King, to stop in the career of his Victories, till he left something in her Womb; which if of the genuine Sex, might prove an Heiress to the Kingdom, and succeed in her Mother's Throne. It is plain there was not a glimpse of love in the case, or any thing like a fond passion; for we find the first instant, this Princess found in herself the desired effect of that noble conjunction, she bade the Conqueror adieu, and gave him leave to proceed in the pursuit of his victories.  Dor. 
You have corrected my judgement in this particular.  M. C. 
You see it is my opinion, a Whore ought rather to hate the whole race, than love one single Man: and indeed it is requisite she should have a secret antipathy against Men, that she may fleece them with less regret, and never be moved to lend one Penny, to any of her broken Friends. There will then be no fear of poisonous Arrows, or envenomed Darts, when she once gets the man-hating quality, because Philosophers deliver it as an Article of their Creed, that two contraries cannot by any means cohabit under one roof, no more than two Whores, at least not without mighty feuds and restless animosities.  Dor. 
What sort of Men do most commonly fix these Darts and Arrows in the Hearts of Women?  M. C. 
The Men of mode and fashion, those that are used to set the old Bawd a work; who can at other times make use of the no less industrious Masculine Pimp, of Billets deux, that is Child, love Letters, of Promises, Flattery, Oaths, Execrations, a good Face, and a deceitful Heart; if any or all these can prevail with thee, I do assure thee, thou art an undone Girl  Dor. 
I shall serve them in their own coin. But who are those you call the men of mode?  M. C. 
The Men of the times.  Dor. 
All Men are Men of the times, pray explain yourself.  M C. 
I mean those Gentlemen that have served one apprenticeship, or possibly two, to the Trade of Foppery  Dor. 
Now I understand you: it seems then a Man of Dress, a Man of Garb, a Man of Wit, a Man of Mode, a Man of the Times, and a Fop are much one and the same thing.  M. C. 
It is so And if this Man thou speakest of, had a name for every humour he has, he would have more names, by half, than Briareus had Hands.  Dor. 
How many was that?  M. C. 
Ninety nine.  Dor. 
It is a pity the Hundred were not made up. But inform me how I must carry myself in company of these critical Gentlemen.  M. C. 
When any of these Critics (as you call'um) comes to make thee a visit: receive him in mood and figure, caress him, and entertain him with the pertest, and the quaintest chat, thou canst devise. Flattery and ceremony are the comfits that taste sweetest in his mouth.  Dor. 
He shall have his Belly full of them.  M. C. 
You must study a particular way of commending every thing he wears, the sitting of his shoes, the mixture of his Stockings, the shape of his Leg, his Tread, the turn up of his Breeches.  Dor. 
Methinks, Mother, you should begin at the other end.  M. C. 
The make of his ; the adjusting of his Sword knot and Cravat string, the briskness of his raillery, the fringe of his Gloves, his Lace, the smoothness of his Face, the redness of his Lip, his jantée way of picking his Teeth, the foretop of his Peruque, and if you please, the cock or the sitting of his Hat.  Dor. 
Will not he think I am abusing him?  M. C. 
He would, if thou didst treat him after any other manner. It is in this method they claw one another, and sure you will allow, it may come as naturally out of a Whore's mouth?  Dor. 
Are they generous after a Woman has taken all this pain to please them?  M. C. 
That is as the maggot bites; they will sometimes throw away their Guineas as profusely into the Whores, as into the Groom or Porter's Box; then at another minute, they must bilk the Lady, as much for the humour of doing so, as the consideration of saving their money.  Dor. 
I find it is ticklish trading in this brittle Ware.  M. C. 
Pretend to have heard much of the Sparks Poetry, that you have seen some ingenious lines of his composing.  Dor. 
What if he was never given that way?  M. C. 
It is odds but he is a dabbler in rhyme; however he will procure a Sonnet from one of his Poetical friends, which he will show thee, as the fruit of his own Brain.  Dor. 
What should I do with it? a Bushel of them would not yield me a Groat.  M. C. 
You must make much of the Song, for the love you bear his Purse: as Men sometimes kiss the Bantling for the Nurse's sake. Receive the precious gift with the same grace you would a Necklace of Pearl, read it over and over, praise it, kiss it, and then place it in your Bosom.  Dor. 
I will gratify him in this particular.  M. C. 
If you well remember, Daughter, I told you at the beginning, that Memory was a part of Rhetoric, and necessary in a Whore, to learn and retain those essential documents that are to be observed in her own Trade. In as much as all her discourses in conformity to her manners, are a medley of lies and fictions; it is requisite she should have a faithful remembrance to hinder tripping and contradiction, which would detect the falsehood of her intentions, no less than the sophistry of her words. Remember, Dorothea, what form of treatment may best comport with every person, according to the variety of his humour and quality. What ever he be, whether of the long Robe, or one that wears a Cloak of the Geneva cut, whether one of the black Gown, or the red Coat, whether Gentleman or Mechanic, let him hold his Heart fast, and his Purse lose, if he be of small credit, let him be of greater advantage.  Dor. 
I expected you would have said more of the modest.  M. C. 
Voh, voh, voh, this Cough kills me. I did intent to have been more particular on that large subject, but I have so many things in my Head, I shall forget many points that are material, if I dwell long on any one.  Dor. 
Proceed.  M. C. 
You must know how to bridle that indiscretion, which is natural to men who have spent seven years behind a Counter.  Dor. 
The Citizen, I suppose you mean.  M. C. 
A brisk check will keep these Spaniels in order and obedience, better than fawning dalliances or flattering caresses: let not these however be altogether wanting; but let a bit and a stroke go together, or rather follow successively as the nature of the Animal may require.  Dor. 
I should love to show my Authority on these tame Creatures.  M. C. 
Let my Pupil rest fully assured that the most profitable, easy and secure Traffic is to deal with honest wealthy Citizens. A rich Mercer can with more ease rig out a Whore, than a score of ranting blades: and an Apprentice that is Cashkeeper to a substantial Citizen can oblige a young Lady, with larger supplies than a Regiment of modish Gentlemen. These are the golden Lovers, you must by all possible arts endeavour to make your own: a small proportion of Flattery, and a spice of counterfeit Affection will be sufficient baits to captivate these mute Fish; when once they are fast in the Net, there is but little danger of their making escape; a frown, a contracted Brow, or a harsh word will quiet them at any time, and make them willing to gratify your most exorbitant demands.  Dor. 
These modest guests are much more to my humour, than the Huffs you spoke of just now.  M C. 
All the time you live at large, you must remember to set apart the Sundays, and other Festivals of the Year, for the service of young Citizens, for Apprentices have only those times granted them, to breathe a little free Air, out of their Master's Houses or Shops. What I have already said of the hypocritical, and the fearful Lovers, as likewise those precepts already laid down to enslave young Gentlemen, may be applied to this place, as being necessary to regulate the several sorts and degrees of Citizens.  Dor. 
I fear, Madam, you are in some haste.  M. C. 
Not at all, Daughter. If this defluxion will give me leave, voh, voh. I will methodically complete the work of the day.  Dor. 
Pray be pleased so to do.  M. C 
I have already hinted, That you must be critically obsequious in paying every man those respects that are due to his birth and employment, in such sort that you seem neither too haughty, nor yet contemptible by any mean condescension: even with great Men you must preserve this decorum, not seemingly to want, or care for their money, you will the easier arrive at the end of your own desires: and by standing on your punctilios, be able on all occasions, to calm the heat and extravagance of any insulting Hector, not suffering yourself to be fed with that airy nutriment (loud big words) which is the usual entertainment of certain Bravoes. With all Men without distinction of persons, you must study to be in your dissembling and cheating Talents crafty and cunning, in your delights graceful, and in your persuasions powerful: thus you will in some sort imitate the good Orator, and fulfil the practical Doctrines in your own Rhetoric. The memory which belongs properly to you, is not so much an immense capacity, qualified to receive and retain all objects represented to the exterior, and thence introduced to the general and interior sense; as an artificial ready remembrance of all points necessary in your own Trade, and the persuading power of your eloquence, which consists in timing your words and actions with a seasonable discretion, assigning every part of your art its proper place, and feeding your Lover with a real, or at least an imaginary pleasure.  Dor. 
Good Mother, do not confine yourself to the Rules of Rhetoric, because that will render your precepts obscure, and as to me scarce intelligible.  M. C. 
Where your interest, and the Rules of Art concur, there you will permit me to speak in terms consonant to the name I have given the discourse. Where they jar, I promise to forget the Rhetoric for your particular advantage.  Dor. 
I thank you.  M. C. 
What the Rhetoricians call Disposition, is requisite in this place to regulate the several parts of interest to the best advantage. The Rhetor some times persuades with arguments drawn from true History, Realities, and the nature of things; but when such cannot be brought to square with his present design, he makes no scruple to introduce fictions, chimaeras, shadows, and such like notions, that serve the turn as well, and tickle the Auditors ears as effectually, nay oft times better than if he had handled nothing but solid matter, and the real substance.  Dor. 
Must I imitate him here?  M C 
In like manner the Female Orator must strive to make the best use and advantage of substantial Flesh and Blood, solid Kisses, and sensible Touches: but if these do not sufficiently mortify an obdurate Lover, nor make him drop any golden Tears, she must not be unprovided of lascivious Pictures, obscene Images and Representations to raise her own and her Lovers joys.  Dor. 
This is a thing I never dreamt of.  M. C. 
When you are detained in ugly, sordid, or ungrateful embraces; it would be difficult without the artificial aid of a picture to counterfeit those ecstasies which every comer may expect for his money. Therefore on these occasions you must frame in your mind the Idea of some comely Youth who pleases you best, whose shadow will create a greater gust than could be raised by a nauseous though real enjoyment. The Picture of this charming Boy may very fitly be placed near your Bed, to imprint the fancy deeper in your imagination, and enable you to fall into those sweet transports, which do singularly gratify the enjoyers heart.  Dor. 
This gallantry does almost ravish me, because it is altogether new.  M. C. 
The dexterous acting this dying part, the artificial counterfeiting an immoderate passion, will ever produce very advantageous effects: the deceived Gamester believing these amorous pangs created by himself, will be apt to fall into the like trance, will approve of the ardour of his own flame, and be ready to comply in the generosity of a grateful return.  Dor. 
That is still the burden of the Song.  M. C. 
In this act young Ladies do oft forget their interest, and when the person does not please, it is a piece of self-denial my Scholar must learn, to make it appear he does To prevent then any discovery of nauseating the present Bedfellow; a continual mindfulness of her own interest, and the assistance of a handsome Picture are the best and most easy remedies. The whole series of carnal satisfaction does purely consist in fancy, and he effectually enjoys most, whose imagination is strongest, who frames in his mind the highest conceptions of joy and content. This artifice therefore is principally necessary in conjunction with certain credulous humours, who believe themselves adored by the whole Female Sex: such will as it were force their Mistresses to dissolve in pleasure, and give sense of a sincere delight, in regard their own fancies are high and elevated. They would otherwise count her dull and insensible of that weight of bliss she enjoys in the circumference of their Arms.  Dor. 
And it may be a weight too of folly and impertinence.  M. C. 
That is more than probable, and men of this faith are to be heightened in their folly; no excess of false transports can be ever found out by such believing Proselytes, as being already full of themselves, and prepossessed of their own particular merits.  Dor. 
I should love to bubble such conceited Coxcombs.  M. C. 
Besides the Male Picture prescribed for your use, you must be stocked with others of a different nature to operate on your visitants more effectually than the similitude of your Ganymede could affect yourself. These must make up a part of your householdstuff, must consist of the best draughts of Men and Women naked, in sweet caresses, and dying postures. It will not be expedient to have such hung about your Bed Chamber or elsewhere, however they need not be wanting on one side of the Bed, in such order to be absconded at pleasure, and again to appear when necessary, by withdrawing a Curtain or other Veil that must hang over them. It is fit likewise these bawdy incentives should be under cover when you happen to entertain any number of your followers together, for at such times genteel and modest conversation is most agreeable. Beside, I would have you make it your business to be seen at home sometimes, engaged with grave and sober company, and when that can be had of your own Sex, for I judge it necessary you should personate the reserved, the coy Dame, saving when the scene of enjoyment gins to appear on Love's Theatre.  Dor. 
And then it seems I must throw off the vizard of modesty.  M. C. 
These obscene Images do produce marvellous effects towards the propagation of Love, they insinuate at every poor of the Eye an extravagant desire to gratify the sensitive appetite, they spur Men on by an  impulse toward the venereal Bed; from whence he ought at no time be suffered to come off a winner.  Dor. 
If he does, I have but ill deserved your instructions.  M. C. 
By means of such Pictures, new Lovers may be acquired, especially when they are of an exquisite and extraordinary nature, and when your skill in your profession, and your good temper do concur to animate these uninformed beings.  Dor. 
I hope neither shall be wanting.  M. C. 
I desire my young Student to believe the usefulness of these amorous scenes as an infallible truth. In this particular all Men are of a Romish persuasion; in as much as their devotion at the Shrine of Venus is extremely enlivened by the prospect of a naked Saint. Let care be taken that none appear in this number who have died Martyrs in the cause of Venus. That would be a mortifying sight, and ingrateful to the amorous Goddess, whose Votaries are of a Geneva stamp, all militant, but mortal enemies to that Bugbear, called Passive obedience.  Dor. 
And who can blame them?  M. C. 
Aretin's Figures have no place in my Rhetoric, and, I hope, will find no room in my Pupils apartment. They are calculated for a hot Region a little on this side Sodom, and are not necessary to be seen in any Northern Clime.  Dor. 
What do you mean by Aretin's Figures?  M. C. 
Only, Child, Six and Thirty Geometrical Schemes which he drew for his own diversion.  Dor. 
What have I to do with those hard names, are those tame things to be had here?  M. C. 
Four and Twenty rough draughts may be had for money.  Dor. 
Pray tell me of something I understand, and which is proper for this cooler Region. Though I have an itch to know what you mean by the Figures, for I am sure it is something else than what you have yet told me.  M. C. 
Aretin, Daughter, among other things was a great Astronomer, and particularly had an exquisite knowledge in the nature of Mars and Venus, and in all the Seasons, and varieties of their conjunction.  Dor. 
Pray proceed in what I desired to know.  M. C. 
I have seen a certain draught of Pictures that would serve sufficiently on this occasion, hanging one way it might be set up in a Cathedral, but the reverse was able to seduce a Hermit into obscene thoughts. Such a Model as this may be had, and at an easy rate, it may appear barefaced in your Lodgings, and on occasion, with an easy motion, turning the upside down, the obscenity appears, of power to raise a luxuriant heat, and a beastly appetite. This Scene with its double Face, must be furnished with variety, to make it a sufficient Theatre for the diversion of the amorous pair, affording a large field of pleasure, and a multiplicity of forms to pay Cupid's delightful Tribute. This pleasing spectacle will ever sensibly affect the seeing organ, so turning the leaf according to what diversity the eye discovers as most pleasant, a harmonious discord will thence arise, and in the delight, which is still the same, that diversity will be found, which is the sole universal sauce of all terrene sweets.  Dor. 
Must I lead or follow in this Dance?  M. C. 
It is civil you should submit to the Man's choice in the capriole to be next cut; however I will allow you sometimes to make use of your negative Vote, in refusing to tread such steps as may disparage the Dance, and approving others that may hasten and increase that beatitude so much valued by foolish and unthinking Lovers.  Dor. 
would they were all so.  M. C. 
You must remember to observe in the exercise of this Precept, which are the best, and most agreeable positions, to the end you may be able to instruct a raw Lover in the practice of these exquisite deportments, nothing in nature will be more engaging with Men than to meet them half way in these recreations, or even sometimes to act the teacher's part. When you shall have practised and understood a multiplicity of these capricious Games, you must make use of your memory to retain as eligible those forms, that were found to please most, and to avoid others that were found troublesome, or did create disgust.  Dor. 
Will it not be dangerous to seem knowing in this affair?  M. C. 
That was the caution I did intent to deduce from the Doctrine of Images. You must with all strangers and new friends, or such on whom you have particular designs, make it your business to appear wholly ignorant in all new modes, or at least you must handsomely pretend that nature, and sometimes a mighty affection, and desire to please your Lover, has inspired you with this dexterity.  Dor. 
I am of opinion it is best to seem at all times wholly ignorant, and only to afford a civil condescension.  M. C. 
I cannot be against what you say, for it may prove inconvenient, that your knowledge should be thought to proceed from art and experience; for Men do for the most part believe this sort of skill in Women, as nauseous in an amorous conversation, as a Pedant's learning in civil society; unless it be when they may conclude themselves the Authors and Instructers in this piece of obscene gallantry. With Men therefore that are troubled with a discerning faculty, I am satisfied, you should plead ignorance, rather than disoblige your Guest, by seeming wise to a superfluity.  Dor. 
I think so too.  M. C. 
The unfolding the amorous scene will soon excite any Man of potent Flesh and Blood to show his skill in the imitation; then a feeble resistance, with a declaration of being unacquainted with the practical part, may serve to raise his appetite, and possess him with an opinion, That his Mistress made that purchase for ornament and not for use.  Dor. 
It will be requisite he should think so.  M. C. 
I would have you inquisitive to discover all those hard ways, through which the famous Courtesans of the Age have dug out their victorious fortune; and the several precipices from whence others, no less remarkable in their infelicity, have been tumbled headlong: the first will serve as a Spur to push you forward in that fortunate road; and the other may be a useful caution to avoid those Rocks whereon others have so lately shipwrackt.  Dor. 
Point me out some of those dangerous Rocks.  M. C. 
One of the main causes of a young Traders miscarriage in the World is, a fond passion for some one of her Lovers, fixing her hopes and thoughts on a single person, which as I have already told you, never fails to bring destruction on Fortune, Body and Reputation; it is the greatest curse that can happen to any Lady of this Profession, because it destroys all those ways and means that should make her happy.  Dor. 
I presume you mean such persons as are neither fit for Husbands, nor Keepers; and I think you have told me so already.  M. C. 
Another main instrument of the Whore's misery, is a lewd and an open conversation, admitting all sorts of men to a familiarity, without any distinction or regard of persons.  Dor. 
I should not wonder at that.  M. C. 
Others finally, not resolute nor steady in the government of themselves, careless in their Trade, and fantastical Lovers of their own capricious humours, do miserably shatter their prosperity, which by steering a regular course, might have been preserved entire, and perfected at last with a plentiful return of riches and honour.  Dor. 
It were strange if such giddy pates did ever far better.  M. C. 
Many young beginners do rashly addict themselves to a scandalous liberty in drinking, lewd swearing, and open ribaldry, foolishly judging all these as necessary incidents to any Whore, that would make a remarkable figure in the World.  Dor. 
To be remarkably abused.  M. C. 
Whereas in effect there is nothing can more certainly bring them into contempt and misery.  Dor. 
It is scarce possible it should be otherwise.  M. C. 
Men will, it is true, in a jovial humour encourage all the vile excesses that the most profligate stripping Whore can act, yet at the same time they applaud, they must needs entertain a secret hatred and scorn for such wretched Prostitutes.  Dor. 
That they must needs do.  M. C. 
They are solicitous for this wild diversion, as they are for the sight of a Bartholomew Show, a Harlequin or Jack-pudding, but once a year, and then too the Farce grows nauseous before it is half ended.  Dor. 
Before it is well begun.  M. C. 
These infirmities are to be avoided by Whores, with equal care as they are shunned by industrious and thriving Merchants. The loss of time and neglect of business are the natural effects of these enormities, and the genuine causes of a lost reputation.  Dor. 
I love those Rules that prescribe sobriety.  M. C. 
If you would desire to maintain your Body in good order, you must be nicely cautious not to allow any commerce with Men noted to fly at all Games, and famous for never wanting a Neapolitan running-Nag.  Dor. 
I conceive you.  M. C. 
I will explain myself more largely at another time, but I am now in haste to tell you, that these are very dangerous and as unprofitable Guests; their Money is dispersed into so many Purses, no one Lady can receive any advantage by it, as a River is lost by being divided into may Channels.  Dor. 
What similitudes you make?  M. C. 
You must avoid such company as you would a Pest-house, or as a young Scholar would the irregularity of breaking Priscian's Head.  Dor. 
What is that?  M. C. 
It is a Proverb used in Schools against any one that makes a false concordance in the Latin Idiom. Of this solecism thou wilt be guilty in a literal sense, if thou approach any of these virulent Bodies, because thou must impart some of the same sauce to the next Customer, and so effectually break the real Priscian's Head.  Dor. 
I shall have a care of that for my own sake  M. C. 
You must strive to outdo the severest Moralist, in controlling and subjugating all your untowardly and prejudicial passions, as love, any external marks of envy, hatred, malicious anger, and such like.  Dor 
Why, may I not be sometimes angry?  M. C. 
With some fond Lovers a little of it may not be amiss. But for the most part it is best to mollify a hardened Lover with a Crocodile tear, and redress injuries that will be offered by mildness, a seeming patience, and neatly imposing a pecuniary mulct, rather than cursing, bawling, or any Billingsgate arguments  Dor. 
In what cases must I avoid any show of envy?  M. C. 
Principally in shunning a silly error very common among Whores.  Dor. 
What is it?  M. C. 
It is the humour of exclaiming, detracting and vilifying one another with an envious and envenomed Tongue.  Dor. 
According to the vulgar saying, That two of a Trade can never agree.  M. C. 
I know it is impossible a Whore should see any of her Sisters in finer  than she can compass, or more caressed, without secretly cursing her Rival in her Soul, and entertaining such damning wishes, as two competitors at Court do in private pour out against one another.  Dor. 
And how is it possible to contain without bursting?  M. C. 
Alas Child! How does that expression agree with the uninterrupted hypocrisy and dissimulation I prescribed Yesterday. I say you must put on a serene countenance, a pleasant look, and a Tongue dipped in Honey and Oil, when you happen to talk to any of your Servants of the other Whores about the Town.  Dor. 
Does not commending others equally disparage one's self?  M. C. 
Good Faith, Daughter, I believe, there is scare a Whore in Christendom, who is not of that opinion; and yet Creswel dares swear, they are as much astray in that particular, as the unthinking Keeper, who is persuaded of the honesty of his Mistress.  Dor. 
Is there no such thing then as an honest Whore?  M. C. 
I have known in my time more Whores than would Hand in Hand make a larger circle than the circumference of London; yet never could set sight of the thing called an honest Whore. It is true, young Whores like young Sinners, are ofttimes troubled with a weak and distempered Brain, whimsies, reluctancies, sorrow, repentance, and some faint glimpses of what the World calls virtue; but I must tell you, till all these shadows are vanished, they do not deserve the glorious name of Whores.  Dor. 
For Heaven's sake, Mother, no more of this it will raise Clouds in my Brain, with I shall not be able to dissipate.  M. C. 
But to do the memory of the Lady, justice, I remember to have heard of one honest Whore.  Dor. 
I am glad on't.  M. C. 
Who refused the Son entrance, because the Father had already traveled that Road.  Dor. 
I am afraid, Madam, I should be of that Lady's humour.  M. C. 
Fie, fie, Child, there is no such precept in natures Law. I have been lately under the clutches of the Law, and if I were not afraid that a Scandalum Magnatum might bring me into such another praemunire, I could show thee a noble precedent to confute thee and remove this error.  Dor. 
I guess your meaning. It is an intrigue might afford matter for a Novel, which would in part take off the scandal of translating daily such numbers of French one's, that are in my mind, fit for the necessary House than the Closet. But now I must return to desire you will inform me, how I ought to commend other Whores, I am sure it must not be without some discreet reserves or equivocations.  M. C. 
That I will allow. You may do it just as the fanatics pray for the King.  Dor. 
That is, not at all.  M. C. 
Yes they do; but it is still with a but at the end of it. You may say, Such and such a Lady is handsome and agreeable, then cunningly insinuate something that may defeat the encomium: or to come nearer the simile, praise the Ladies good qualities, then with a fly but, (as if sorry for her failings) hook in with pity and compassion in your mouth, what may fully the good. Wish her better advised, and better Counsellors, and pretend concern and regret for her infirmities.  Dor. 
What good effects will this produce?  M. C. 
It will infallibly make the Gentleman most entirely thine if thou canst act the part neatly. He will be amazed to find such an unheard of piece of good nature in a Whore's Mouth, and be in love with thee for thy virtue, more than were possible on the score of a Face.  Dor. 
This part I must learn to personate.  M. C. 
You should gull your Lover at this time with the same dexterity the Fanatic Parson does his hearers. You must  your discourse with a meek, grave, and a pious aspect, to make your sophistry pass for sincere and real.  Dor. 
Were you ever imposed on by any of these Preachers.  M. C. 
I have been oft at their Meetings, not to edify by their Doctrine, but to propagate my own.  Dor. 
If you will tell me what you used to see and hear in such places, I shall reckon it among the number of your favours, and I fancy the digression may not be altogether impertinent to the business in hand.  M. C. 
I have heard the lecherous Goddess Venus talked of in those Conventicles.  Dor. 
Did the Holderforth give her that epithet?  M. C. 
Verily he did: And once, I remember, proceeded to talk of the bawdy Flora (so he termed her) so much celebrated by old Rome, and to compare her with the Scarlet Strumpet, now so much adored in the same place.  Dor. 
Was there any more of this nature?  M. C. 
I protest, Child, to have heard the Menstruous Cloth painted to the Congregation in plain colours, more obscene and filthy than the thing itself, At another time the Saint had occasion to harangue on the test of Virginity explained in Moses' Law, and laid open in a large scene of ribaldry.  Dor. 
Foh! Sure the beast must have acquired this breeding at Amsterdam or some such place.  M. C. 
Thou hast, I believe, hit pretty near the mark.  Dor. 
But it was not this I desired to hear, but how he made his impressions on the deluded Assembly, because you said a Whore should imitate him in that particular.  M C. 
That is, I confess, the greatest wonder of all, that even in the midst of that mixture of obscenity and profaneness, when there was no more seeming cause of any emotion than at the hearing a dull bawdy Farce, that the Pastor should be able to extort from the pious Assembly such heavy groans, and deep sighs, as if he had been reading the Commination, or denouncing nothing less than Darkness, Fire and Brimstone.  Dor. 
How was that possible?  M C. 
As I am a Christian it is true; but as to the possibility of it, I myself am a little at a stand, and can only answer thy question by telling thee, he was a gifted Preacher.  Dor. 
What is that?  M. C. 
That is one inspired with a double portion of the Spirit of hypocrisy, one who hath served seven years to the Trade of Gerning, putting on a starched countenance, an edifying look, and the white innocence of a Soulsaving eye.  Dor. 
His Doctrine then, it seems, borrowed all its efficacy from the Saints gestures.  M. C. 
There was nothing else to recommend it to the Assembly, unless it were a number of tautologies larded with nonsense.  Dor. 
Notwithstanding the nonsense, I fancy, he might have some qualities fit for a Whore to imitate.  M. C. 
The Sun does not shine on any mortal, I would sooner propose as a complete pattern for my Scholar's example in the histrionick part of the Whore's learning, than one of these Parsons, who is throughly instructed in all his paces.  Dor. 
Sure it must be something extraordinary in him that you prise so highly, pray tell me some of his particular excellencies.  M. C. 
First, Child, he is a Man can work miracles with his pharisaical Face, before he lets one word drop from his Puritan Lips; you may see his Flock reduced to mighty extremities, excessive agonies, and even toward a dangerous state of desperation, when first the Geneva-Apostle mounts the Tub.  Dor. 
And all this at a mute show?  M C. 
Ay, ay; He spends at least a quarter of an hour in this dumb conjuration, about a third of the whites of his Eyes to be seen, the Lids twinkling like the reflection of a Star at Night in a pool of Water, with Brows contracted, and Mouth wried, before he squeezes the Clasps of his Dutch Bible, or even mutters one single word.  Dor. 
Sure, Mother, you left all your spleen at home, the day you went to hear this Evangelical Mountebank.  M. C. 
I usually went to those places about business of importance, and it stood me upon't, not to disoblige the many substantial Friends I had there of both Sexes, with an Antichristian or a Prelatical laugh.  Dor. 
You had a wonderful stock of continence.  M. C. 
Notwithstanding, if I had not been well read in Conventicle demureness, it had been impossible to have refrained at seeing the Sisters, with greedy Eyes, fixed in the contemplation of this powerful spectacle; only sometimes they removed for a short space, in pursuit of several Texts, as if the Gospel Trumpeter had been all the while sounding quotations.  Dor. 
If his looks were so prevalent, his words sure made much deeper and more wonderful impressions.  M. C. 
After the first scene was over, he cleared up a little, and in part removed the Cloud that had hung over his mysterious visage; he opened his Eyes a thought wider, and began to wag his Lips, which he continued to do for almost another quarter, before one word could be kidnapped by the most zealous and attentive Elder.  Dor. 
I vow, Madam, I had rather say Amen to a Latin Mass, than to such a piece of religious mockery.  M. C. 
But when as the Oracles voice was heard, and the holy Impostor began to show his juggling tricks and legerdemains:  Dor. 
You mean his Sophistical and Seditious Doctrine.  M. C. 
Then it was one might have seen the Rabble about this Empirick's Stage, quite overwhelmed with spiritual ejaculations, and enthusiastic raptures.  Dor. 
I had rather see this Comedy, than the Plain Dealer, or the Country Wife.  M. C. 
I thought thou never hadst seen a Play.  Dor. 
Very few, Mother, but pray go on.  M. C. 
It was a pleasant piece of pageantry to behold the gulled multitude swallow the Mountebanks Pills as the most sovereign Catholicums, or universal Medicines.  Dor. 
It is well you explained yourself, else I had taken your Catholicum for a Popish word.  M. C 
It was diverting to perceive the heedless (though attentive) Sheep led astray by this seducing Shepherd, and the unwary Animals intoxicated by the poisonous humours inspired from this Serpent's forked Tongue.  Dor. 
I am afraid some of them own you money, you inveigh against them with so much zeal.  M. C. 
It had been a pleasant entertainment for any disinterested Ear, to have heard the Lungs of this numerous meeting all strain together, to show their zeal, and the warmth of their Devotion, at the conclusion of each long wound period; just as a Consort of Vocal Music may be heard to conspire in a refreshing breath, after the end of a tedious Song.  Dor. 
How naturally have you expressed it?  M. C. 
If I should delineate this Monster in all its deformities, I must be more tedious than his nauseous Preachment: I will therefore pass over his other good qualities, and only at present recommend him to my Scholar, as an exquisite Harlequin, or Scaramuccia, that can personate any humour, can at pleasure command a tear, a select shrug, or any mimical gesture that may serve to vend his empty verbose Drug for solid found Ware.  Dor. 
Would you would get me one of these Conventicle Jack-puddings, to make me Mistress in this art.  M. C. 
He might be had on easy terms, for the State gins to take pity of this canting Tribe  Dor. 
Why then will you not procure me such a necessary Tutor?  M. C. 
He would infallibly debauch thee, Child, (as one may say) in Forma pauperis.  Dor. 
That is, without purchasing on a valuable consideration.  M. C. 
I will not venture thee any long time from under my own tuition, however I will not see thee remain ignorant in this qualification; I will prescribe thee ways to compose thy Brow, or make it muddy on occasion, to squeeze a Tear, and imitate April weather, to dart a smile through a fruitful shower.  Dor. 
I am glad to hear you make that promise.  M. C. 
It is on this matter I intent to conclude my Rhetoric, and the work of the Day. I have hitherto chief insisted on what might seem necessary to furnish your intellectual faculties, to invent, dispose and place every part of your persuasive, in an orderly and advantageous method. I must now lay down some useful Rules how to regulate the external acts of the Body, which is no less necessary in this exercise than the modelling the mind itself.  Dor. 
I admire the regularity of your method  M. C. 
A graceful pronunciation is an essential part of an Orator, consisting of two parts, a judicious framing the Voice as the matter requires, and assuming that gesture of Body that may operate most effectually on the present hearers.  Dor. 
How comes a gesture to be a part of right pronunciation?  M. C. 
It is however an appurtenance: the one serves to move the affections, making its charming notes penetrate the Ear: the other insinuates itself into the Eyes of Men. In like manner you must be expert at these parts of corporal eloquence, having an artificial dexterity in the management of your tongue and the movement of your other Members. A good Voice will mightily conduce to the efficacy of your persuasive, and tuneable according to the Rules of Music; for as I have already hinted, neat sing is a singular advantage to a Whore, and a strong allurement to the solace of love  Dor. 
I love this part of Rhetoric.  M. C. 
This qualification is found highly to improve all Creatures that are capable of it, above their ordinary worth and value. A well instructed Parrot is worth Money for its mimical chat.  Dor. 
A Parrot does not sing, Madam.  M. C. 
But I am going to tell you of the Canary Bird that does, and which is purchased at dear rates for the variety and pleasure of its artificial notes.  Dor. 
What more?  M. C. 
And an insipid Singing-Master is admitted into gentile society, for the diversion, his regulated Voice may afford the company  Dor. 
Have a care you do not make his Worship grow proud with such a favourable character.  M. C. 
If I were not talking to a fair Maid, I would here show the excellence of a good voice in helping to set off an ordinary Face, as a new bush, or a good Face at bar does serve with undistinguishing palates, to palliate the imperfection of debauched Wine.  Dor. 
I drop you a curtsy for that compliment.  M. C. 
She is sure to be caressed and admired by all Men, who is provided of this vocal accomplishment, and even by those who neither are affected with, nor understand the power of musical numbers.  Dor. 
Are young Gentlemen so much of the Monkey, to mimic things they do not value, only because they see them please others?  M. C. 
Thou hast put me in mind of a certain Spark, ha', ha':  Dor. 
Who did he Ape?  M. C. 
That takes snuff eight Months in the Year, in deference to the King; and the other four takes none in complaisance to the Duke.  Dor. 
Ha', ha', I could laugh at the Noddy a Week together. But methinks (with submission) the King should grant him a Letter of licence to lay up his Snuff-Box for two Months more to make it up the even Six, because, people say, he is desirous every body should treat his Brother with the same respects they do himself.  M. C. 
Well, but to the Song again. I tell you, Daughter, all the fictions of the Poets concerning Sirens, and the prodigious effects of their charming notes, are comprised in the centre of a fair Lady's Voice, for that is the genuine mythology of this Fable.  Dor. 
I had thoughts several times to have asked you one question, which if you will give me leave I will do now.  M. C. 
When you will.  Dor. 
The apprehension of losing my Maidenhead hath already put me in pain, I have heard such terrible things of it.  M. C. 
And all thou hast heard then, is a ridiculous foolery.  Dor. 
Is it not as bad as the cut of a Sword?  M. C. 
No such thing.  Dor. 
As pricking, as the thrust of a Rapier.  M. C. 
Not at all.  Dor. 
Like the opening of a Wound when the orifice is almost closed up?  M. C. 
Thou art wide yet of the mark.  Dor. 
The drawing of a Tooth?  M. C. 
Wider.  Dor. 
The tearing up of a Nail?  M. C. 
No.  Dor. 
Pray make me conceive it?  M. C. 
Dost thou never remember to have scratched a certain fort of an angry Pimple, and thereby to have made it fret and bleed?  Dor. 
I do remember.  M. C. 
The smart thou felt then is just like that thou mayest expect, when thy virginal flower is snatched away.  Dor. 
Is that all? I shall no longer be afraid of shadows. But pray do not forget what you were going to say when I interrupted you.  M. C. 
I was ready to tell you, that Love and Music do seem to bear a near resemblance in their own natures; an agreeable variety is in both the Mother of Harmony, and where there is the least appendix wanting, a harsh discord is thereby created as certainly in Love, as it is in Music. A symmetry in the Person, Dress and Speech of a Lady that would excite Love, is as requisite as an accurate Player, a good Instrument, and right in tune, to raise a harmonious proportion in musical numbers.  Dor. 
Why do you make Love and Music so near akin, because it is odds if a Whore has a great deal of Music, but she will likewise be apt to receive the impression of Love?  M. C. 
I would not have you fond of any Music created by yourself, much less what you hear of another's, your Love and your Voice must be both mercenary; a counterfeit Love, and a feigned Voice must be two of your prime Advocates, to plead your Cause at Cupid's Bar.  Dor. 
The Lovers you mean?  M. C. 
An airy Song is likewise very proper in a Whore's mouth, to restore a languishing Lover with fresh vigour: and to supply him with new Spirits, who is weary and faint in the extremity of an amorous toil.  Dor. 
You have already told me something like that.  M. C. 
A good tale cannot be told too oft; therefore I tell you, your Voice must be still in tune, to hinder your Gallant from being surprised with desires, that might, if suffered to grow on him, destroy loves Empire, take away the virtue of your eloquence, and ruin all the political designs of your interest. There is no absolute necessity you should exceed in the knowledge of this art; it is sufficient to be able on occasion, to entertain your friend with a lively Song, and to give life to certain artificial graces, which in a young Lady's Mouth breath a most sweet air, to refresh and fan that flame, which sometimes finds reception in the centre of an enamoured Heart. No grave heavy canticles must be heard at these times, but all amorous compositions apt to excite luxury, and create a particular delight. It is fit to observe a seasonable discretion, in disposing the Music in its proper place, not to prove tedious with the length, nor troublesome by singing at such seasons, when the appetite may possibly require an entertainment of a different nature.  Dor. 
That were worse than singing at meat.  M. C. 
Beside this, there is another kind of harmony, a young Lady ought to acquire by practice on her own Voice: I mean an agreeable tone and sweet accent in the expression of each word in ordinary conversation.  Dor. 
How is that to be learned?  M. C. 
Not by any certain rules of art, but must be attained by your own industry and practice. I have known Women do miracles with a sweet dying Voice; and indeed nothing can be more prevalent on the affection of any Man, than to hear a handsome Female express herself in apt terms, articulated with the advantage of a languishing air. In this particular you must play the Orator, to adorn every period with all the embellishments, Voice, Eyes and corporal Gestures can afford, still discreetly varying in some points, as the different circumstances of Person, matter, time and place may require. If you cannot at first arrive at a height of perfection in this affair, be not discouraged by a slender proficiency in your first attempts, you must frequently experiment your skill alone, as if your play fellow were listening to every word: however if you advance not to a high pitch in this virtue, you must be at some extraordinary pains to manage your tongue, if you cannot perfectly regulate your Voice.  Dor. 
How, to manage my Tongue?  M. C. 
It must be known that this Arrow, the Tongue, shot from the Bow of the Lips, when kisses are dispensed, does make a very remarkable impression; and it is worthy observation, with what alacrity the Blood and Spirits correspond to the raising a lascivious desire, at the gliding of this Member between the opposite Lips, just so far as to hit the white, that is, the Lover's Teeth: but it is likewise true, that some not well informed in this exercise, thrusting their Tongues with impetuosity into the Mouth of him they kiss, do nauseate rather than please; or using this appurtenance of a kiss indiscreetly at all times, do render it less pleasing, nay hated sometimes, as not agreeable to the expressions of the sweetest love.  Dor. 
This is a notion I was altogether a stranger to.  M. C. 
This form of kissing, mankind learned from Pigeons, amorous Birds, and dedicated to Venus; whilst we see in the simplicity of their amour they interchangeably give one another the Beak. Let rude Women be corrected by these emblems of innocence into the graceful acting of this part: not striking their Tongue into another's Mouth with such force as if they intended therewith to drive a Nail. Daughter.  Dor. 
Mother.  M. C. 
Remember you to frame your Tongue acute, in form of a Darts head, and so to dispose the motion that the extremity or tip may only pass to and fro tickling between the Lips, without forcing too hard on the borders of the Teeth. Be mindful also on these occasions to incite your beloved Soul to the table of Venus, as if your Tongue designed by penetrating there, to speak within, and make a sweet invitation to the amorous joys; or that being ready to expire with pleasure, you ought to breathe your Soul, which being brought to the summity of your Tongue, would seem willing to remove its habitation, and find out a more beloved seat in the Lover's Breast.  Dor. 
I wonder, Mother, you do not set up a School, I am sure you would have a multitude of Scholars.  M. C. 
In the excess of higher pleasures, let the Tongue be buried in its proper grave, to be for a while there silent, contemplating those important affairs, that are transacted in the middle region. Or let it be rather imprisoned as a murderer, as having given its consent, and deliberately contrived the death of two persons at one blow.  Dor. 
You are florid, Madam.  M. C. 
You must not forget to use the natural accents of dying persons, as my Heart, my Life, my Soul, I Dye, let us Die together, and the like, which imply a counterfeit, if not a real sense. You must add to these, ejaculations, aspirations, sighs, intercision of words, and such like gallantries, whereby you may give your Mate to believe, that you are melted, dissolved, and wholly consumed in pleasure, though Ladies of large business are generally no more moved by an embrace, than if they were made of Wood or Stone.  Dor. 
I never desire to arrive at that degree of mortification.  M. C. 
You know another and a better fortune expects you: but it is certain a universal Whore can receive but little satisfaction in point of venereal desires, neither indeed is it possible there should be any titillation in those parts, that are peradventure rubbed a dozen times in one day.  Dor. 
No more than Grass can grow on a beaten Road.  M. C. 
It is requisite however to give content, though she be seldom capable of receiving any, let her speak things as aforesaid to mollify her companion in love, and make herself seem so too; and to give her words an authentic gloss, let all be ratified with shut Eyes, falling off as breathless, and then awakening in the extremity of a vehement sigh, as having been overcharged, languishing, and even extenuated with excess of joy.  Dor. 
Are these forgeries never discovered?  M. C. 
They are very beneficial when not detected, but are often discredited by being overacted by some indiscreet Whores in many unnatural and extravagant transports, as if they had been bred to the great Saddle.  Dor. 
I wonder they are not always found out.  M. C. 
If the scene be cunningly represented, it may pass for natural and lively: though if Men did but open the corner of one of their Eyes, they might easily perceive the impossibility of giving a Woman any taste of delight, who is commonly tired with the fatigue of many repeated strokes. Their credulity must be managed in this juncture by all possible arts and stratagems, and though sense and reason might seem strongly to oppose this opinion, yet it is fit they should believe their dear Whore sensible of pleasure, nay constant, faithful, virtuous, disinterested, or what else she pleases to impose in contradiction to the testimony of a treacherous sense, or a deluded reason.  Dor. 
How is it possible to abuse any Man to that height, who has the least shadow of understanding left?  M. C. 
Daughter let not this Doctrine startle you. There is not one Trade in England that does not impose on their fellow Subjects of another Profession in both these particulars: it would be tedious to enumerate how every Society of Men cheats those of another rank, and how they again in a different manner, slur on those same persons, that first made them swallow the Gudgeon.  Dor. 
You make then all the World to be both active and passive in a cheat?  M. C. 
I cannot hinder thee to put that construction on the words, Though I desired only to show thee, That humane nature is weak, and that a Whore may by those Rules I have already showed, deceive any Man of ordinary Flesh and Blood, if she will but firmly possess herself of the necessity incumbent on her, of being cunning and artificial in all her plots. Married Women do daily discover new fine methods to abuse their Husbands; a discreet Dame can blind the good Man's Eyes, that he shall not perceive his own Horns, which are palpable to all the World beside: or if at any time he is forced to open his Eyes, and see them at large in a fair Glass; she makes him believe it is a deceptio visus.  Dor. 
What do you mean by that?  M. C. 
Something that his evil genius had maliciously form to separate his affection from the bosom of a chaste Spouse. Nay though the honest Man should find her in strange embraces, yet it was only a lump of condensed air Satan had brought into the way, to leave a new Devil of jealousy in possession of the Husband's Heart.  Dor. 
I see married Ladies have likewise their State-policy.  M. C. 
She ever has a Crocodile Tear at hand to soften a resenting Cuckold, but if the Tool be soft and malleable, than an impudent look, a face assured with something better than Brass, and a series of diabolical Oaths, are the Potions she pours down the Animals Throat, to carry off all grudges, fears or jealousies, and increase the Lethargic humour she has already made predominant in the heavy constitution of her passive Husband.  Dor. 
Sure, Mother, it is a wicked Age we live in.  M. C. 
Faith, Daughter, so it is, and was so every Age since Adam quitted the Garden of Eden: but methinks thou hast spoke what might more properly come out of the old Leechers Mouth, of whom I spoke a while since.  Dor. 
You think then there is no difference between the wickedness practised now adays, and the honest sincerity of our Forefathers so much talked of?  M. C. 
I believe that Virtue and vice are at all times both triumphant in the World, though not in the same place or region; I fancy they may be appositely compared to the Ocean, which though immense in itself, and still the same, yet admits of Ebbs and Floods; when it runs up the Thames, it may be making a retreat through the doors of Tiber; when it is full Sea at Bristol, it may be low water at Tangier. Just so it is in the case of Virtue and Vice, they have their rise and their falls, and as Virtue is banished one Country, she flies to the next that will receive her; then Vice steps into the exiles Throne, and usurps the Sovereignty till a new period of Years brings back the banished Lady, and restores her to her primitive splendour and glory.  Dor. 
How does this agree with what we hear daily Preached, That no Age could parallel the enormities of this; that Vice is become epidemical, the World is corrupt, the Vessel of iniquity running over, and a great deal to this purpose?  M. C. 
What is said of the World is understood of the English World, and all centred within the circumference of this Land. And so it is true; the Fops are a degree more exquisite, and the Ladies a thought more tenderhearted than they were in King Edgar's days.  Dor. 
I could raise one objection more against your opinion of Virtue and Vice, if you are not in haste to complete the work of the day.  M. C. 
I am ready to hear it.  Dor. 
I have read Ovid's Metamorphoses in English, and I there find that the Goddess Astrea fled from Earth; now if this be true, and that by her is meant Justice, it follows, there was nothing left but rapine and oppression.  M. C. 
Is it not a little irregular, Daughter, to propose the Poet's Tale, after I had answered the Parson's resolve? however I will satisfy thee with two may be's. First it is possible the Poet was induced to tell the World of Astrea's flight, in that he found all the dispensations of Fortune so partial and unjust: he thought it was no even hand that entailed poverty on him and all his fraternity, whereas those he called dull and insipid, (I take it for granted there were Lawyers and Aldermen in those days) could lead the World in a String, and abound in all the gifts of a propitious Planet, even to a dangerous superfluity.  Dor. 
Now for the second may be.  M. C. 
I presume that Ovid had either seen, or at least heard much of the books of Moses.  Dor. 
That is more than I heard till now.  M. C. 
And that by his golden Age, he means the state of Man's integrity, that by his fall he lost his original brightness, and degenerated into a meaner state, yet still preserved some beams of innate morality in the purity of the Silver Age. Then the succeeding Generations growing more wicked and ambitious, made them Swords and Spears, which naturally introduced the fancy of rugged Iron. At which time the Goddess is said to have deserted her habitation here below. In this fiction, I fancy the Poet alluded to the deluge that was brought on Men in the Iron Age, when they became cruel, barbarous and savage as any instrument of ●hat rusty metal; then Noah's ascending the Ark (who was then the just Man) and being lifted up therein above the Earth, is what the Poet meant by Justice flying out of the world.  Dor. 
You have done Ovid a great deal of right; but is not the latter part the comparing Noah and Astrea, a new notion of your own?  M. C. 
Upon my honesty, I never met any such thing in all my reading, and therefore thou mayest at pleasure take or leave an old Wives conjecture.  Dor. 
For Heaven's sake, Madam, how came you to be so well read? Yesterday you quoted Seneca, you have talked of Law, Politics, a number of words not understood by me, and indeed I think nothing but Divinity escaped you.  M. C. 
Why really, Child, as to that I can readily tell thee, Creswel has conversed many long Years, if not in the Schools, yet with the Sons of the Prophets.  Dor. 
Who do you call the Sons of the Prophets?  M. C. 
Thou must expect to be resolved at some other time, because I am now in haste to reduce to the Doctrine of Gestures some particular accomplishments, in which you must endeavour to show a singular grace.  Dor. 
You are resolved to make me an accomplished Lady.  M. C. 
It is a very endearing entertainment, when the first appearance of anger in a Lady's Face is resolved into a charming smile; just as when the Heaven overcast with dark Clouds admits an impetuous and sudden force of the Sunbeams, which in a moment disperse the thickest vapours, and make the aerial body serene and clear.  Dor. 
You talk youthfully, Mother.  M. C. 
Your Kisses, Curtzies, Caresses and embraces must not be of the same stamp with those in ordinary use among Females. My Pupil must know how to grace every motion of her Body with some engaging gallantries, all her actions, looks, words, must he remarkable for some capricious but pleasing gaiety. When a Lover appears under the Window or Balcony, let your salute be humourous and brisk, with an airy kiss dispatched from the tops of your Fingers, you must seem as it were impatient of his company, and even ready to fly into your Lover's Arms in your Lodgings, even out of your venereal Nest, you must not sit idle like a lazy statue, but be still employed in diverting the losing Gamester in dallying, mignardizing, and a thousand wanton expressions of love. You ought sometimes of a sudden seize the Prey with strict embraces, and flatter it with the sweetest Kisses. The more surprising and unthought of, these motions are, they still imply the impulses of love more strong and prevalent.  Dor. 
This shall not be wanting.  M. C. 
There is a particular method of lithping, which though an imperfection in speech, yet being judiciously managed, may become a notable ornament to a Whore's Tongue.  Dor. 
I have been often chid for lisping, but could never wholly relinquish it, because it is natural.  M. C. 
This is not acquired by set rules but your own practice, and the exercise of the most famous Traders must regulate you in this as in many other particulars, better than you can by my documents.  Dor. 
Why should I not be guided by prime Ladies of quality in these affairs rather than by Whores.  M. C. 
So I would have you, if you can be sure to forsake them in those points that may prove destructive to the interest of your Profession.  Dor. 
In what points?  M. C. 
Time will not permit me to unlock the Lady's Cabinet, nor indeed my decayed Lungs, voh, voh, voh, voh, voh, else I could make a longer harangue on the married Dames State-Policy than I have done on the Whore's Rhetoric. I will only tell thee at present, that they place their chief happiness, their summum bonum (as I have heard a Philosopher speak) in gratifying their carnal and obscene desires; whereas a Whore's interest and worldly lucre ought to be considered as her first, last, and her greatest wish  Dor. 
But married Women may lawfully place their thoughts on those things in obedience to their Husbands.  M. C. 
Where hast thou spent thy days, that thou shouldest raise this strange notion of obedience from a Wife to her Husband? it has been laid in the Grave these many Years.  Dor. 
Buried, say you?  M. C. 
Would you Daughter, be fond of eating a Venison Pastry, or any other Dish, if you had been for some Months before forced to feed on it Morning and Evening?  Dor. 
It is certain I should hate it as I do poison.  M. C. 
In like manner Wedlocked Dames grow weary of their Husbands, they are cloyed with a repetition of the same fare, and so very apt to disobey those persons they nauseate so much.  Dor. 
You do not mean Women of honour and reputation?  M. C. 
Quality and reputation are fine things, Child, but are not able to remove a certain itch natural to our Sex: Honour in Women advances them only to act the Whore in a higher sphere, does not all contribute to quench the flame; for as there are two sorts of Beggars, one that with a stretched out Arm, implores the charitable assistance of all that he meets; the other a Beggar of Quality, that craves as hearty, but with a better grace, of some worthy Patron in an honourable Dedication: so besides the Whore who receives the benevolence of all Men, and whose office I have already described, there is another equally covetous of Cupid's charity, though she dedicates herself to a particular Gallant, who has treasure enough in his Veins to supply her honourable requests.  Dor. 
Her lustful requests?  M. C. 
I have already told you the great advantage you may hope to reap by a dexterous movement of the Body. Motion is, according to the Philosopher, the cause of heat, and a brisk and lively one may prove in love the Parent of prolific flame, out of whose ashes there will infallibly spring a number of zealous Lovers.  Dor. 
It must be a singular passion that is generated this way after the manner of a Phoenix.  M C. 
As you must not be stiff not starched in your conversation, so neither in the ordering your Body; remembering that Venus transformed herself once into an Eel, to leave a precedent for young Ladies, not to degenerate from the first principle in this science, to be ambitious of perfection in the methods of dispensing pleasure. By this model you are taught to circulate, to wind, to turn and to wriggle.  Dor. 
That is a filthy motion.  M. C. 
To stretch, to contract, to push forward, to retract, to raise upward, to bend down, and other delicious motions, that are acquired better by experiment than by any notional precepts.  Dor. 
What should one do with all those motions?  M. C. 
Choose those you like best, and throw the rest to the Dogs; and in the exercise of these several feats of agility, such, I say, as please you, care must be had to appear free and disengaged, but not to those mad excesses which bespeak a Lady inspired rather with fury and rage, than the lambent spirit of an amorous flame.  Dor. 
It seems you look on this as a very necessary injunction, because you have put me in mind of it now the third time.  M. C. 
Not to relinquish the form of a Rhetoric, and the subject of Eloquence, I remember to have heard that Demosthenes, if I mistake not, had the reputation of a ready and an expert Orator. To become perfect in the mimical part, he made use of a Glass, large enough to represent his whole person in its full dimension. Before this he used to make proof of himself, and in it observing his own failings, he thus found it easy to correct them, and imprint in his memory that action or gesture which seemed to himself most agreeable and most likely to please others.  Dor. 
Would you have me take the same method Demosthenes did?  M. C. 
I would. You will daily find easy opportunities of applying yourself to this practical part of learning. Every young Lady may have these clear Crystals for her privy Counselors; and I advise you to make the best use you can of these bright aids. They serve to modify the attire of the head, the tincture of the Face, the excellency of the Dress, and the symmetry of the whole.  Dor. 
Every body consults them on all those doubts.  M. C. 
But every body does not take care as you must, in such sort that there be not the smallest motion of the Brow, Eye, Lip, or other part that does not exactly square, to the completing a perfect and a wanton beauty.  Dor. 
This, I confess, is not so much regarded.  M. C. 
The quality of every look, every smile, must be adjusted to a singular airy grace; each step carry in it something brisk and gay, that may demonstrate a lively deportment of the whole body.  Dor. 
It shall be done  M. C. 
As to your carriage in these and other particulars, in your Lodgings, at a Play, or elsewhere, you must carefully follow the approved precedents of the most knowing Ladies, still with an ambition to improve the best examples, by your own ingenuity.  Dor. 
Why do Whores appear ofttimes masked at the Theatres and other public places?  M. C. 
A Mask is the Whore's Label, the Flag she hangs out, to signify to all Men, That the Lady in Masquerade is to be sold to him that makes the first generous offer.  Dor. 
Sure no Man will make any offer before he sees what is under deck. Did you never hear, Mother, of buying a Pig in a Poak?  M. C. 
They are sometimes bought up as Kings marry their Wives, even before their Faces are seen. But they have other designs in carrying these dark Lanterns.  Dor. 
That is probable: because Masks seem unnecessary to make them known; for Ladies of business, they say, may be discovered by their look, mien, and many other signs and tokens.  M. C. 
A young Trader ought to be extremely industrious to preserve her Face as long as she can, under the notion of strange and new: so it ever proves of ill consequence to be frequently seen bare-faced at Plays or any other public places, which is well avoided by appearing under the safe cover of a vizard.  Dor. 
What prejudice can it bring to be well known, methinks it should be a part of her business in such places to make her acquaintance?  M. C. 
I'd allow her sometimes to be seen without a false Face, but generally it is most convenient to make her Markets under a disguise, she thereby is at liberty of going off with whom she likes best, without disobliging others; and as I told you now, she avoids the inconvenience of being Flyblown, or blasted by the contagious Eyes of any sparkish Cabal.  Dor. 
How do you mean?  M. C. 
These Blades will sit on a young Lady, especially her that is suspected to have the least pretence to the Whore's character, as a Consult of Physicians o'er sick persons, still concluding in the destruction of her honour and reputation.  Dor. 
The Physician kills the Body and these Gentlemen the good name, but sure they do not take this liberty without an experimental knowledge of the Lady's temper?  M. C. 
It is the same thing for that. One will say he has debauched her, another will sweat to have lain with her such and such a Night, though possibly not one letter of either true.  Dor. 
But it does a Woman equal prejudice to be thought common, as effectually to be so.  M. C. 
You say right: and therefore a young Whore ought with all industry avoid being publicly talked of, which were impossible, unless she cheated them with these false colours.  Dor. 
Is it not necessary I should know these caluminating Fops, to escape the censure and company of such empty Blabs?  M. C. 
I know them all, and will direct thee particularly in this critical point, and in all others necessary to be known, and which this accursed phlegm will not now suffer me to impart. Voh, voh, voh, voh, voh, voh. I am not able to proceed farther: so I can now only desire thee not to fancy thyself for the future any thing of a Woman, save what craft and fraud may seem essential to the Sex. Agreeably to a young Female that is cloistered up in a Monastery, who has renounced the World, put on a new dress, new manners, new thoughts, and who is become (as the Lawyer has it) a person dead in Law; so you must now at your initiation in this profession divest yourself of all Womanish conceits, abandoning that weakness and pusillanimity that renders many of our Sex, and more of your Trade the object of men's charity and contempt; and to complete the parallel, be sure to believe your person dead as to all Laws, except those prescribed by your own interest Let this Rhetoric be to you, (my dear Daughter) instead of a moving intelligence, to regulate the new modelled Fabric of your Heaven: let no other principle of life or motion be acknowledged in all your works, all your actions regulated in an exact comformity to it, and with the same mayest thou be ever preserved in a perfect state of undisturbed tranquillity.  Dor. 
Even so be it.  
FINIS.