WHAT base and unjust Accusations we find
Arise from the Malice and Spleen of Mankind!
One would hope, my dear Mother, that Scandal would spare
The tender, the helpless, and delicate Fair;
But alas! the sweet Creatures all find it the Case,
That  is a very censorious Place.
Would you think that a Person I met since I came,
(I hope you'll excuse my concealing his Name)
A splenetic ill-natur'd Fellow, before
A Room full of very good Company, swore,
That, in spight of Appearance, 'twas very well known,
Their Hair and their Faces were none of their own;
And thus without Wit, or the least Provocation,
Began an impertinent formal Oration:
"Shall Nature thus lavish her Beauties in vain
" For Art and nonsensical Fashion to stain?
"The fair JEZEBELLA what Art can adorn,
" Whose Cheeks are like Roses that blush in the Morn?
"As bright were her Locks as in Heaven are seen,
" Presented for Stars by th' Queen;
"But alas! the sweet Nymph they no longer must deck,
" No more shall they flow o'er her Ivory Neck;
"Some Runaway Valet, some outlandish Shaver
" Has spoil'd all the Honours that Nature has gave her;
"Her Head has he robb'd with as little Remorse
" As a Fox-Hunter crops both his Dogs and his Horse:
"A Wretch that, so far from repenting his Theft,
" Makes a Boast of tormenting the little that's left:
"And first at her Porcupine Head he begins
" To fumble and poke with his Irons and Pins,
"Then fires all his Crackers with horrid Grimace,
" And puffs his vile  Breath in her Face,
"Discharging a Steam, that the Devil would choak,
" From Paper, Pomatum, from Powder, and Smoke:
"The Patient submits, and with due Resignation
" Prepares for her Fate in the next Operation.
"When lo! on a sudden, a Monster appears,
" A horrible Monster, to cover her Ears;
"What Sign of the Zodiac is it he bears?
" Is it  or the
"Or the  that he dares to put on?
" 'Tis a Wig  that from  was brought
"Un  that the Varlet has bought
" Of a Beggar, whose Head he has shav'd for a Groat:
"Now fix'd to her Head does he frizzle and dab it;
" Her Foretop's no more. — 'Tis the Skin of a Rabbit. —
"'Tis a Muff. — 'tis a Thing that by all is confest
" Is in Colour and Shape like a Chalfinch's Nest.