love Lac'd Mutton, I think it is their Duty to resent the Affront with
us so much, as to Satyrize the Author of the_ Fifteen Comforts of
Whoring, _who without is some young bashful Effeminate Fool or
another, that knows not how to say_ Boh to a Goose; _or some old
suffocated old Wretch so far pass'd his Labour, that he scolds for
Madness that he cannot give a buxom young Lass her Benevolence; or
else he may an hundred to one be one of Captain_ Risby's _Fraternity,
and so must needs be a Woman Hater by Course. But let him be what he
will, so long as our Impudence is Case-harden'd we value not his
Reflections, and therefore will not leave our Vocation tho' Claps and
Poxes shou'd be our Portion every Day for according to an eminent
Whore now Deceas'd,_


Clap, clap ye Whores, Clap as Clap can,
Some Clap to Women, we'll Clap the Men.




THE
Whores and Bawds, Answer, &c.


_The first Comfort of Whoring, Answer'd._

No sooner does a Maid arrive to Years,
And she the Pleasures of Conjunction hears,
But strait her Maidenhead a Tip-toe runs,
To get her like, in Daughters or in Sons;