Female Excellence: OR, WOMAN Displayed, IN SEVERAL Satiric Poems. BY A Person of Quality.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. theophra. 
LONDON, Printed for Norman Nelson at Grays-Inn Gate in Holbourn. 1679.   


A General satire on Woman,  
WOMAN! Thou damned hyperbole in Sin,  
Malign Atropos, Hell and Woes origin.  
Man, who at first was made in perfect bliss,  
Was by thy guilt deprived of happiness;  
Whose Soul was so divine, that 'twas essayed  
Its Author's Image, was by thee betrayed-  
God did thy Will to but one Law confine,  
Yet thy immeasured Lust turned Libertine.  
Hell's subtle Serpent did her mind perceive,  
Saw she was fair, and knew she would deceive;  
The Devil and She, alas! too well did know  
The surest way, to work Man's overthrow;  
Such subtle arts and means they did contrive,  
That Man could not avoid, pass by, and live.  
Could neither Grace nor Law thy Lust dispel,  
Woman! thou damned Confederate with Hell?  
She Proteus' like in any shape is seen;  
Of th' blackest Crimes she has the Actress been:  
The purest Age hath sad Examples store  
Of her base deeds, besmeared with blood and gore.  
Didst thou deceive, and shall not Man take heed?  
Thou didst with Hell damnation breed.  
Abortive Sin from thee its rise doth date:  
To be damned is to be effeminate.  
Envy and Malice from thy Fall did grow,  
Murder and Homicide to thee do owe  
Their birth, Treason and Rebellion call  
Thee Mother; Thy Venom's epidemical:  
Witchcraft and Sorcery from thee did come,  
And mansions claim within thy womb;  
Idolatry, and Schism, and Heresy,  
Swearing, and Lying, and Hypocrisy;  
Horrid Execrations, and Blasphemy,  
Fornication, and Adultery.  
Avarice, Concupiscence, and Gluttony;  
From thee derive their monstrous progeny;  
Thou base Common Sewer of Iniquity.  
These, and their several Species, are  
Frequent in Women, and unpractisd rare:  
Alas, by sad experience do we find,  
They are the impious Tenants of her mind.  
Nothing that's good doth in her body dwell;  
Lewd Woman is the Enthymem of Hell.  
Legions of damned Souls in Torment cry,  
Damnation came by thy Apostasy.  
Dire Wars and Plagues hath Justice now designed,  
Famines and Earthquakes to torment Mankind.  
Yet Woman by her retransacted Ill,  
New Plagues doth coin, and bring new Curses still:  
But of all th'Plagues, with which poor Man was cursed,  
His enforced Love of Woman is the worst.  
Her crooked mind's a Metaphor of Hell,  
Her Tongue's an Engine which doth horror tell:  
Her perverse Will doth for her Reason stand,  
Her mad Passion does her Will command.  
Her Prudence by her fancy moves apace,  
Fraud and Deceit, are in her painted face.  
All moral Virtues from ill habits have,  
In her several Lusts, a several grave.  
Woman! depicted thus! with these damned parts!  
Yet still she'll conjure and comptroul our hearts!  
Thus stands she blazoned, in this Scheme you see  
The Fairest Beauties, hang in Effigy.  
Divorce thy thoughts now Man from Female Love;  
This curse obtained, thy cursed Fate will move;  
May Wedlock be forgot, Let Woman die  
A Victim to her own Virginity.   

A satire upon Woman's Usurpation.  
WOman was made Man's Sovereignty to own;  
Man, as the Monarch, was to rule alone.  
She created was a Slave, and made to dread  
The angry frowns of Man, her Lord and Head.  
Heaven did to him his Power delegate;  
O'er all the Universe he made him great:  
His Power did the largest Sceptre sway,  
The whole Creation did his Laws obey;  
No limits there were set to his commands,  
Tigers and Lions licked his sacred hands,  
And Savage Monsters wore his mighty bands.  
Distributive Justice God was pleased to see  
Him give, sans bribe or partiality:  
The Legislative Power was solely in  
Just Man, till Woman tempted him to sin:  
Though she did know Eternal death stood by,  
Resolved she was to taste, transgress, and die.  
Once she was happy, but her towering pride  
Could no Superior, God or Man abide:  
Man's now enslaved, imperious Woman reigns,  
And governs Monarches with her golden chains:  
She is so prone by nature to comptroul,  
That she must govern, or destroy man's Soul.  
She will no longer in subjection stand,  
Nor will obey Iehovah's great Command,  
Man must resolve to stoop to her demand.  
The Sun no sooner had begun its course,  
And spread its candid beams o'er th' Universe,  
Nature herself was hardly full awake,  
The Planets did their motions rarely make;  
The azure Orbs, in which there's finely set  
The glistering Stars, scarce knew their Architect,  
The Earth, Air, Water and Fire did hardly find  
Themselves pure Elements, and were inclined  
To mix, in composition of each kind;  
Man scarce had been the first resplendent light,  
ere Woman brought forth everlasting night.  
Her damned Pride first taught her how to Sin,  
Ambition then the Devil ushered in;  
Those for ten thousand more have inlets made,  
And now she's Mistress of the Devil's trade;  
She'll tempt, betray, lie, swear, cousin and cheat,  
Hell's blackest arts, ten thousand times repeat.  
So hard's the Fate of miserable Man,  
That he shall be destroyed, if Woman can:  
Heaven's diviner charms, cannot compose  
Her swelling thoughts, ambition knows no Laws:  
Tossed with impetuous storms of haughty Pride,  
Disordered motives will her passions guide,  
Till she destroy her loving Lord and Bride.  
She, with domestic storms of civil hate,  
Disturbs the solitude of Man's estate:  
Eternal Wars she'll make, no peace permit,  
Till she command, and all Mankind submit:  
Such was th' effects of her aspiring Mind,  
She damned the race and stock of brave Mankind.  
Base silly Cupid, that art so fond wise,  
Let Woman rule thee with her sparkling Eyes;  
Base Wretch, that for th' Effects of Lust will sell  
Thy birthright, thy power; thy Heaven for Hell!  
My Soul's too great, and can no bondage bear;  
My Will's too free, and cannot fetters wear.  
Woman!  
Since Heaven's Sacred Laws, cannot restrain  
Thy Will, and threatened Vengeance is in vain;  
Since to live peaceful is thy greatest pain,  
Proceed, and thou shalt Queen of Devils reign.   

A satire on Woman's Lust.  
HOt Lust within her reigns in every part;  
The foulest Sins possess her filthy heart:  
Incest, and the many Sins of Sodom, are  
Dull satisfaction to the lustful Fair:  
T'attain her ends she Mountains would remove;  
And knows no bliss but in lascivious love.  
She'll travel all the foulest Roads of Hell,  
Commit such Vice as ne'er knew parallel:  
Till she enjoys, no rest shall close her eyes;  
Enjoyment is her only Paradise.  
Missing her man, some ugly mongrel must  
Give satisfaction, to her raging lust:  
Her appetite's so strong, that to fulfil  
Her damned desires, she'll try Infernals skill:  
No monstrous object can deter her mind;  
She'll use a Dog or Devil for Mankind.  
But if in all her Lust prevention find,  
'Twill gnaw, and eat her own distracted mind;  
Burst into Envy, and ten thousand more  
Such monstrous Sins, as Hell ne'er knew before:  
Hell! Hell's no abyss if compared to this,  
'Tis Woman's Lust is only bottomless.  
Her Lust denied! she'll rend the Earth and Skies,  
And thunder forth most horrid blasphemies;  
She'll roar, and cry, and scratch, she'll howl and tear,  
Like Devils who the greatest torments wear.  
Thus burning Lust doth set her Soul on fire,  
Which will for ever flame with hot desire:  
Life will with Lust together both expire,  
And will accompany her Soul to Hell,  
And there with lustful Demons ever dwell;  
Then her enjoyments will eternal prove,  
Where Pluto takes her for his hellish Love.   

In Praise of a Deformed, but Virtuous Lady; OR, A satire on Beauty.  
FIne Shape, good Features, and a handsome Face;  
Such do the glory of the Mind deface;  
But Virtue is the best and only grace.  
Venus Man's mind enslames with lustful fires,  
Consumes his Reason and burns his best Desires.  
Were't thou my Soul but from my body free,  
Had flesh and blood no influence on thee,  
Then wouldst thou love a Woman, and wouldst choose  
The Soul, fair she, to be thy blessed Spouse.  
Beauty's corrupt, and like a Flower stands  
To be collected by impure hands.  
'Tis hard as 'tis impossible to find,  
Virtue and Venus both together joined.  
For the Fair She, who knows the force and strength  
Of Beauty's charms, grows proud; and then at length  
Lust and ambition will possess her breast,  
Which always will disturb man's peaceful rest.  
She will adore herself, and disesteem  
All others that in truth more comely seem:  
She thinks besides she is adored by all,  
And that Mankind must at her footstool fall;  
And thus is Beauty prejudicial.  
Beware my Soul, lest she ensnare thy Sense,  
Against her Wiles let Virtue be thy fence.  
Some please their fancies with a Picture well,  
And for mere toys do real Pleasures sell.  
Some shadows love, beyond substantial things:  
Such faults are sometimes seen in Sacred Kings.  
Fancy's a microscope which cheats the Eye,  
Who looks through that, their Judgements falsify.  
No bliss fond Cupid thinks, but what is in  
The smoothing, of his lady's tender skin;  
Her snowy breasts, her sparkling sable eyes,  
Her charming looks, her blooming cheeks surprise;  
Her ebony brows, her bright forehead high,  
Her soft belly, and her ivory thigh,  
In these his best and chiefest Pleasures lie.  
What other parts she can for pleasures show,  
You can produce as well as she, I know.  
When age with furrows shall have ploughed her face,  
And all her body o'er, thick wrinkles place,  
Her breasts turn black, her sparkling eyes sink in,  
Fearful to see the bristles on her chin,  
Her painted face grown swarthy, wan and thin,  
Her hands all shrieuled o'er, her nails of length  
Enough to dig her grave, had she but strength.  
Such is the Mistress that blind Poet's praise,  
Such foolish themes their grovelling fancies raise:  
My Mistress is more lovely, and more fair,  
Grace's divine in her more brighter are;  
She is the source of bliss, whilst Virtue reigns  
In her, all things impure her Soul disdains.  
Those fools ne'er knew pure Love's most sacred arts,  
That e'er were conquered by blind Cupid's darts,  
Or stand as Slaves to their own carnal hearts.  
Madam,  
'Tis the pre-eminence that's seen in you,  
Which does with sacred love my heart subdue,  
Your gentle nature, and your modest mien,  
Your passions conquered, and your looks serene,  
Your conversation mild; these sacred charms,  
Protection are against lusts impurer harms;  
These and your other Virtues do excel,  
And matchless seem to want a Parallel.  
In your most sacred presence none can think  
Of Lust, or once its horrid venom drink:  
You are an Object that will soon dispel  
Lust's most delightful Poisons sent from Hell.  
yourself's the substance of the Saints above,  
You move my Soul with chaste and holy love;  
For you alone large offerings I design,  
And with continual prayers wish you mine;  
Oh! that Omnipotence would bounty show,  
And make me happy in contracting you.   
FINIS.