This great dead-doing Champion of the Quill,
Will all the Fry of leud Lampooners kill;
Then to begin with Dryden's dreadful Name,
Shou'd mark out fomething of no common Fame.
But when the boafted Matter I had read,
I found my Expectation was misled,
And that the Poet, though he does pretend
To do them justice, is no Woman's Friend.
Mifogynes is made to fhoot with Ball,
Philogynes allow'd no Charge at all.
And how foever be difguife the matter,
To publish the firft Part, be writ the latter.

He that but fridly marks the whole Defign,
May trace the Prefacer in every Line ;
And tho' he did not own the wanton Ape,
He nurs'd the Cub, and lick'd it into shape.
And, Ladies, now without the help of Day,
You may difcern who does the Weapon fway,
And brandishes his Pen against your Credit;
To Mr. Eat-finger himself that did it.
He that fits filent in his Wits Defence,
Whofe Mouth is filled with Fift inftead of Senfe;
Or else he crams his Hand into his Jaws,
Like Ruffian Bears that live upon their Paws.
At Coffee-boufe among the Men of Worth,
He goggles like a Quaker holding forth.
Like an Endymion he can court the Moon.
And bark at her bright Glories when b'as done ;
Or like the Moufe in Fable he can plead,
He has deferv'd t'afpire to Princess' Bed,
Till for his daring Arrogance he's spurn'd,
And all bis Fop-pretenfions over turn'd;
Then like the little Vermin squeaks and dies,
Or prints a Book of Ladies Cruelties.
This is the Fool, fair Ladies, that does haunt you,
That will from Dreffing-room or Play gallant you.
be is call'd, what Name so much renown'd
Through all the Realms of Nanfenfe can be found?

W.

LETTER

LETTER

XIX.

To a Lady who fent him the foregoing Verfes into the Country.

I

Receiv'd a Copy of Verfes from you laft Poft, with a Command (for the Requests of fair Ladies are always Commands to me) that I fhou'd answer 'em. I wou'd ferve you, Madam, you may be fure, in any thing that was in my Power, but this I muft own is quite beyond it; and after having read them over, I found myself utterly unable to cope with fo dead-doing an Author: I fent therefore immediately to the Clerk of the Parish (a very honeft Man, a good Weaver, and no ill Critick I can affure you, as Criticks go) to beg the favour of him, that he wou'd come and assist me in the thing. With his help, Madam, I read 'em over again: We both agreed, That there were never Words better chofen, Verfe more delicately turn'd, Satire more fine, or Raptures more poetical. As for Example:

Blefs us! faid I, what mighty Hero's here?
He thunders fo, 'tis dangerous to come near.
The beauteous Sex may fet their Hearts at reft;
Of all their Patrons, fure this is the best.

The Clerk indeed made fome Exceptions to the Lines that follow:

But when the boafted Matter, I had read,

I found my Expectation was misled.

He faid he cou'd not imagine, that fo wife a Perfon as the Author of thofe Verfes cou'd be mifled in any

thing.

And,

And, Ladies, now

(An Apoftrophé to the Ladies :)

without the help of Day,

O God, Madam, by a Rufh-light, as plain as can be,

You may difcern who does the Weapon fway.

If it were not too great a trouble to the Author, I wou'd defire to know of him who it is that does sway the Weapon; for fometimes he makes us believe it is the Prefacer, and fometimes the pretended Author :

And brandishes his Pen against your Credit,
To Mr. Eat-finger himself that did it.

This laft was fo very good a Conceit, and fo very new, that I thought the Clerk wou'd have died with laughing at it. Well, faid he, (when he had a little recover'd himfelf) that Eat-finger is fo ingenious, that a Man might have made five or fix very good Verses of that one Thought. Set your Heart at reft, faid I, and fee if this Author has not as much Management as he has Wit.

He that fits filent in his Wit's defence,

I warrant this Poet never fat filent in his Life,

Whofe Month is fill'd with Fift instead of Senfe,
Or else be crams his Hand into bis Faws:

That is to fay, Either he eats his Fingers, or fills his
Mouth with his Fift, or crams his Hand into his
Jaws. Never were there Fancies more fublime, or more
variety of 'em put together.

At Coffee-boufe among the Men of Worth,

Obferve here, Madam, if you pleafe, a new Argument for Rhime, and that is the Civility and Goodbreeding which proceed from it. Had it not been for the Rhyme's fake, those who were Fops and Fools in the beginning of the Poem, had little Reafon to exVOL. II.

E

pec

pect to be adopted Men of Worth in the latter Part of it.

He goggles like a Quaker holding forth.

This we both allow'd to be the very beft Jeft of all It is true, indeed, the Clerk (who is a very goodnatur'd Man, tho' perhaps a little too curious in his Criticisms) faid, He cou'd not find any very great refemblance between a Man who fat filent, and a Quaker that was holding forth. But I told him, He muft fuppofe it was a Quaker holding forth at a filent Meeting. Like an Endymion he can court the Moon,

And bark at her bright Glories when he's done. The Clerk told me, He doubted the Author was mistaken here: For as the Story has been always written, Endymion did not make love to the Moon, but the Moon to Endymion. And as for the Barking, he affur'd me he had it from an ancient Greek Manufcript, whofe Author was intimately acquainted with Endymion; and protefts, That he never faw a Man lefs apt to bark at People in his Life than he was. But if all the little

Curs of the Town have always bark'd at the Moon, it is very hard that Endymion, who was never known to bark at any body, must be fuppofed the Author of all that Noife. But pray, Madam, inform yourself a little better from the Author, of what follows: Was there

ever any Mouse ? or was there any Fable wherein

there was a Mouse?

did plead,

He had defer'd tafpire to Princejs Bed?

For if the thing be really true, it was the most impudent Moufe that ever I heard of; and we muft, both the Clerk and I, agree with the Author, in the just Refentment he fhews for fo horrible a Prefumption.

But to be a little more ferious, Madam: Tho' I can allow a Jeft as far as any body, yet I wou'd not have People

People imagine I fhall bear fuch things as thefe. You may advise the Author therefore, for his own fake, to keep his Name conceal'd. How great foever his Quality may be (for if I can guess at all at him, he's a Person of confiderable Quality) let him not imagine that shall protect him from my Revenge. Had the Great Mogul written fuch a Copy of Verses against me (not that I have any particular Pique to the Great Mogul) without any respect at all to his Quality, I wou'd have printed the Verfes, and put his Name to 'em. However, Madam, in the midst of my Fury, he shall fee how much more like a Christian I treat him, than he has done me: For tho' he has malicioufly infinuated, That Mr. Dryden writes for me, and that I am covetous of M. L. D.'s Company, yet I must do him the justice to declare, I do not in the leaft believe Mr. Dryden has any hand in his Works, or that he ever found any great Satisfaction in the Converfation of M. L. D. I am,

Madam, Your, &c.

The Clerk prefents his Service to the Author, and has written the Inclofed, which he defires may be de-. livered to him.

LETTER

XX.

To the most Noble Author of that incomparable Poem, on the Author of a Dialogue concerning Women, &c.

Moft Noble Sir,

You OU cannot imagine with what unexpreffible Satiffaction I read over your late Poem. It pleases me extremely to fee, that notwithstanding the Endeavours of our Enemies, the Wits, there are ftill fome generous Spirits

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