| —To Eliza Haywood I. A YOUNG Lady of distinguished Birth, Beauty, Wit, and Spirit, happened to be in a Box one Night at the Playhouse; where, though there were a great Number of celebrated Toasts, she perceived several Gentlemen extremely pleased themselves with entertaining a Woman who sat in a Corner of the Pit, and, by her Air and Manner of receiving them, might easily be known to be one of those who come there for no other Purpose, than to create Acquaintance with as many as seem desirous of it. |
| —For tonight, Slippers of Satin and a Breadth of Taffeta, fine Stockings being in order— The Spring of the Heart will be betrayed, flushed rosy against a cream Complexion and the white Sheen which swaddles it. But this makes a hearty Trinket and a good Purchase. | —We know less how we will speak than act, though Conversation between the Sexes be among the most precious of Pleasures. Call the Carriage and away; we while the Time, and in the Dark | —I wonder that they fuss and fawn, who should have such Tastes cultivated for the Play, and not for this. But to this, in fine, and in every Point of Comportment and Dress shall I play, and so make a Box of a Box. |
| II. She saw the accomplish’d Beauplaisir was making his Way thro’ the Crowd as fast as he was able, to reach the Bench she sat on. She had often seen him in the Drawing-Room, had talk’d with him; but then her Quality and reputed Virtue kept him from using her with that Freedom she now expected he wou’d do, and had discover’d something in him, which had made her often think she shou’d not be displeas’d, if he wou’d abate some Part of his Reserve. |
| —There is one for a plucked Bud of Evening. Even now her fair Cheek shines with an incessant Incandescence of Moon; and O, that her Eye, so fine, should light on every Point but mine own. I will like a graying Moth wing to the Air and deliver such perfumed Solicitations as should prove necessary, or else a Purse and Gold Tatters. But mark! She looks on us now; Courage and Conceit, draw forth, ask her, Are you engag’d, Madam? | —With a fine Mouth formed around as many fine Words, he is come. The slender Column rises firm in its Pluming of Fabrics, Throat a first Indication of the Voice which Tenders; A broad Shirt and a Jacket What if I should bit the Buttons off |
| III. In fine, they were infinitely charm’d with each other: He was transported to find so much Beauty and Wit in a Woman, who he doubted not but on very easy Terms he might enjoy; and she found a vast deal of Pleasure in conversing with him in this free and unrestrain’d Manner. |
| —Discourse and every Wit, but O, even more that she were and such a fine Turn of Ankle; O that I were an Anklet of Pearl to lie atop this Lady Feet. O— In what nacreous Ardours should my Spheres rough her Skin Madam, you must come with me, away.—They say, gaher ye Rosebuds, ye Skirts, my Cheek in your Rosey | —Now puffs out his Learning and Cleverness, near fit to burst the Buttons of his Herrick. Speak, run your Voice over your Lips awhile longer; if only this Conversation without Conclusion.—This night, Sir I’ll not descend. |
| IV. All the Charms of Beauplaisir came fresh into her Mind; she languish’d, she almost dy’d for another Opportunity of conversing with him; and not all the Admonitions of her Discretion were effectual to oblige her to deny laying hold of that which offer’d itself the next Night. |
| V. The appointed Hour being arriv’d, she had the Satisfaction to find his Love in his Assiduity: he was there before her; and nothing cou’d be more tender than the Manner in which he accosted her: |
| —O I lust to sail the swelling Sea, to shoot at Ships with Guns. Is no such Sailor brave as me? Avant! Man the Holes that need manning and give o’er your bardy Puns— O. Quick Woman! The Key for your Lock, your Strongbox, your Hold. Dally not, dally not, dall | O, o Oh. Is it always so? |
| VI. Her Tears and the Destraction she appeared in, after the ruinous Extasy was past, as it heighten’d his Wonder, so it abated his Satisfaction:—He could not imagine for what Reason a Woman, who has taken so much Pain to engage him, should lament a Consequence which she could not but expect. |
| —O wantonly wanton and wondrous fair the Tear upon your tender Lip. But wilt thou plaint now, Posey, my Pidgeon, my Pip and Bundle, my pintucked Darling nestled in Silks— Wilt thou not? Did not thou … O, false! More wanton still, the O’erblush of your bare Breast. Wilt she not? But what Wantonness in her; Nay, plain, ’tis the Pleasure kill’d her. | —Dullard, Dolt, and Fiend, the more shall you endeavour to please and finally pleasing seem, else I am deceiv’d, nay, discover’d, in vain. |
| VII. He should not have it in his Power to touch her Character: She therefore said that she was the Daughter of a Country Gentleman, who was come to Town to buy Cloaths, and that she was call’d |
| —This lazy Love lying, blanketed in a Chamber, encapuslated as it were, enshrouded, enraptured— Named, its sweet Plaints and Destractions are assur’d, and its Lady Lock’d; Only a Name, soft— now I woo her for it. Lady, say how you are call’d | —Fantomina. |
| VIII. She preserved an OEconomy in the Management of this Intreague, beyond what almost any Woman but herself ever did: The Business of her Love has engross’d her till Six in the Evening, and before Seven she had been dress’d in a different Habit, and in another Place.—Slippers, and a Night-Gown loosely flowing, has been the Garb in which he has left the languishing Fantomina;—Lac’d, and adorn’d with all the Blaze of Jewels, has he, in less than an Hour after, beheld at the Royal Chapel, the Palace Gardens, Drawing-Room, Opera, or Play, the Haughty Awe-inspiring Lady— |
| —Fantomina. Now the Affair is settled may I make a Puff of myself; O Lady I am your Powder Dust awhile, buff me at your Cheek, and Dally o dally Lady O dally Lady Lady do dally Dallianc—Lady, why gather you your Gowns? | —Look where he lazes, a most beautiful Cock preening The Time, Sir, and your Mouth run Slack with Manna. Compose your Self and Pieces. And now to Court, to ghost you, and me, my Self. |