Phillis, Or, the Progress of Love by Jonathan Swift
Desponding Phillis was endu'd With ev'ry Talent of a Prude, She trembled when a Man drew near; Salute her, and she turn'd her Ear: If o'er against her you were plac't She durst not look above your Wa[i]st; She'd rather take you to her Bed Than let you see her dress her Head; In Church you heard her thro' the Crowd Repeat the Absolution loud; In Church, secure behind her Fan She durst behold that Monster, Man: There practic'd how to place her Head, And bit her Lips to make them red: Or on the Matt devoutly kneeling Would lift her Eyes up to the Ceeling, And heave her Bosom unaware For neighb'ring Beaux to see it bare. At length a lucky Lover came, And found Admittance to the Dame. Suppose all Partys now agreed, The Writings drawn, the Lawyer fee'd, The Vicar and the Ring bespoke: Guess how could such a Match be broke. See then what Mortals place their Bliss in! Next morn betimes the Bride was missing, The Mother scream'd, the Father chid, Where can this idle Wench be hid? No news of Phil. The Bridegroom came, And thought his Bride had sculk't for shame, Because her Father us'd to say The Girl had such a Bashfull way. Now John the Butler must be sent To learn the Road that Phillis went; The Groom was wisht to saddle Crop, For John must neither light nor stop; But find her where so'er she fled, And bring her back, alive or dead. See here again the Dev'l to do; For truly John was missing too: The Horse and Pillion both were gone Phillis, it seems, was fled with John. Old Madam who went up to find What Papers Phil had left behind, A Letter on the Toylet sees To my much honor'd Father; These: ('Tis always done, Romances tell us, When Daughters run away with Fellows) Fill'd with the choicest common-places, By others us'd in the like Cases. That, long ago a Fortune-teller Exactly said what now befell her, And in a Glass had made her see A serving-Man of low Degree: It was her Fate; must be forgiven; For Marriages were made in Heaven: His Pardon begg'd, but to be plain, She'd do't if 'twere to do again. Thank God, 'twas neither Shame nor Sin, For John was come of honest Kin: Love never thinks of Rich and Poor, She'd beg with John from Door to Door: Forgive her, if it be a Crime, She'll never do't another Time, She ne'r before in all her Life Once disobey'd him, Maid nor Wife. One Argument she summ'd up all in, The Thing was done and past recalling: And therefore hop'd she should recover His Favor, when his Passion's over. She valued not what others thought her; And was--His most obedient Daughter. Fair Maidens all attend the Muse Who now the wandring Pair pursues: Away they rose in homely Sort Their Journy long, their Money Short; The loving Couple well bemir'd, The Horse and both the Riders tir'd: Their Vittells bad, their Lodging worse, Phil cry'd, and John began to curse; Phil wish't, that she had strained a Limb When first she ventur'd out with him. John wish't, that he had broke a Leg When first for her he quitted Peg. But what Adventures more befell 'em The Muse hath now no time to tell 'em. How Jonny wheadled, threatned, fawnd, Till Phillis all her Trinkets pawn'd: How oft she broke her marriage Vows In kindness to maintain her Spouse; Till Swains unwholsome spoyled the Trade, For now the Surgeon must be paid; To whom those Perquisites are gone In Christian Justice due to John. When Food and Rayment now grew scarce Fate put a Period to the Farce; And with exact Poetic Justice: For John is Landlord, Phillis Hostess; They keep at Stains the old blue Boar, Are Cat and Dog, and Rogue and Whore.