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<DATE>2013-08-22</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>John Pas</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B130510.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B08675">
<STC T="W">C1660AA</STC>
<STC T="C">R173637</STC>
<BIBNO T="oclc">[ocm]64551052</BIBNO>
<VID>184435</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="text">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<HEAD>The Ladies An&s;wer TO THAT Bu&s;ie-Body, Who wrote the <HI>Life and Death of DU VALL.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>I'Le tell thee &s;en&s;ele&s;s <HI>Fool,</HI> who e're thou be,</L>
<L>Thou art a <HI>Thiefe,</HI> by far more ba&s;e than he:</L>
<L><HI>Du Vall</HI> a little Wealth did onely take,</L>
<L>Which they who lo&s;t it, got perchance by Cheat.</L>
<L>Wealth, which poor Mortals heap they n'ere &s;o fa&s;t,</L>
<L>Pitile&s;s Death will take them from at la&s;t.</L>
<L>But, <HI>Thou</HI> unworthy to be call'd a Man,</L>
<L>Rather &s;ome Bea&s;t, or mon&s;t'rous <HI>African,</HI></L>
<L>Would from our Ladies that <HI>Bright Honour</HI> have,</L>
<L>Which out-lives Us, and triumphs o're the Grave.</L>
<L><HI>Honour</HI>'s a Thing too Sacred and Divine,</L>
<L>Once to be touch't by &s;uch rude Hands as thine.</L>
<L>How dar'&s;t thou blame &s;uch mild and generous Tears,</L>
<L>Or &s;trive to bla&s;t their Pity with thy Jeers?</L>
<L>If they were &s;orry, 'twas not that their Thoughts</L>
<L>Approv'd his Crimes, or ju&s;tifi'd his Faults;</L>
<L>Yet &s;o much Valour as the Pri&s;oner had,</L>
<L>And &s;o much Youth, might make a <HI>Tigre</HI> &s;ad.</L>
<L>The greate&s;t Lords that <HI>England</HI> now can vaunt,</L>
<L>Pity'd him too, and begg'd his pardons graunt:</L>
<L>But them thou dar'&s;t not mention, 'tis thy fear</L>
<L>Their Swords &s;hould find thee out for all thy care;</L>
<L>Onely poor <HI>Ladyes,</HI> that have no defence,</L>
<L>Nothing to guard them, but their Innocence.</L>
<L>The&s;e thou pick'&s;t out, their Arms are in their Eyes,</L>
<L>And <HI>Love</HI> (thou know'&s;t) di&s;dains &s;o &s;mall a Prize;</L>
<L>Which makes thee bold, and glad to venture where</L>
<L>Thou think'&s;t there is not the lea&s;t room for fear.</L>
<L>This &s;hews thy <HI>Narrow Soul,</HI> thy <HI>Little Merit;</HI></L>
<L>This &s;hews thou art all <HI>Gall,</HI> and ha&s;t no <HI>Spirit.</HI></L>
<L>Suppo&s;e 'twere true, that any Lady here</L>
<L>For the poor <HI>Criminal</HI> did &s;hed a Teare;</L>
<L>Tho&s;e for who&s;e <HI>Beauty's</HI> we were wont to die,</L>
<L>Wee'd now adore for their Humanitie;</L>
<L>And their relenting Hearts &s;hould bear no more</L>
<L>Tho&s;e Marble Names their vigour got before,</L>
<L>I to thy co&s;t would &s;oon defend their Fame,</L>
<L>But <HI>Coward</HI> as thou art, thou hid'&s;t thy Name.</L>
<L><HI>Coward</HI> indeed! who can'&s;t employ thy Pen</L>
<L>Onely again&s;t Weak Women, and Dead Men.</L>
</LG>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>El. C.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>Printed in the Year MDCLXX.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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