that I knew not how he came by me: He is a Bencher of one of
the Inns of Court, a very gay healthy old Man; which is a lucky thing
for him, who has been, he tells me, a Scowrer, a Scamperer, a Breaker
of Windows, an Invader of Constables, in the Days of Yore when all
Dominion ended with the Day, and Males and Females met helter skelter,
and the Scowrers drove before them all who pretended to keep up Order
or Rule to the Interruption of Love and Honour. This is his way of
Talk, for he is very gay when he visits me; but as his former
Knowledge of the Town has alarmed him into an invincible Jealousy, he
keeps me in a pair of Slippers, neat Bodice, warm Petticoats, and my
own Hair woven in Ringlets, after a Manner, he says, he remembers. I
am not Mistress of one Farthing of Money, but have all Necessaries
provided for me, under the Guard of one who procured for him while he
had any Desires to gratify. I know nothing of a Wench's Life, but the
Reputation of it: I have a natural Voice, and a pretty untaught Step
in Dancing. His Manner is to bring an old Fellow who has been his
Servant from his Youth, and is gray-headed: This Man makes on the
Violin a certain Jiggish Noise to which I dance, and when that is over
I sing to him some loose Air, that has more Wantonness than Musick in
it. You must have seen a strange window'd House near _Hide-Park,_
which is so built that no one can look out of any of the Apartments;
my Rooms are after that manner, and I never see Man, Woman, or Child,
but in Company with the two Persons above-mentioned. He sends me in
all the Books, Pamphlets, Plays, Operas and Songs that come out; and
his utmost Delight in me as a Woman, is to talk over old Amours in my
Presence, to play with my Neck, say _the Time was_, give me a Kiss,
and bid me be sure to follow the Directions of my Guardian (the
above-mentioned Lady) and I shall never want. The Truth of my Case is,
I suppose, that I was educated for a Purpose he did not know he should
be unfit for when I came to Years. Now, Sir, what I ask of you, as a
Casuist, is to tell me how far in these Circumstances I am innocent,
though submissive; he guilty, though impotent?
_I am,
SIR,
Your constant Reader,_
PUCELLA.

_To the Man called the_ SPECTATOR.

_Friend,_
Forasmuch as at the Birth of thy Labour, thou didst promise upon thy
Word, that letting alone the Vanities that do abound