Therefore, _Melissa_, wisely Guard your Heart; What _Nature_ won't defend, defend by _Art_: Shun, I advise you, most Devoutly shun, Those _Servile Apes_ that swarm about the Town; _Pert, Noisie Coxcombs, Self-admiring Beaux_, Known by their _want_ of _Wit_, and _Gawdy Cloaths_: Of all the Creatures Nature does provide, To stock the World from _Ignorance_ to _Pride_; Of all that from her various Bosom spring, A _Beau_ I think the oddest kind of thing; A selfish Compound, singular, and Vain, Half _Ass_, half _Puppet_, and the least of _Man_; One that seems just for Nature's Pastime made, A _Gawdy_ Carcass, with an _Empty Head_; Whose only _Knowledge_ lies in _modish Dress_, And seldom looks much further than his Glass. A Creature only Govern'd by his Will; And never _Reads_ above a _Taylors Bill_; A Wretch extreamly _Whimsical_ and _Proud_, Stiff in _Opinion, Talkative_ and _Loud_; And that which most Compleatly Arms the _Fool_, Is, That the _Fop's_ Emphatically dull. That such, _Melissa_, may Address, 'tis true, Write a soft _Song_, or senseless _Billetdoux_, But 'tis _Themselves_ they _Admire_ in't, not _You_: And she that's basely Yok'd with one of these, Must e'en be Wedded to his _Vanities_; Doat on a _Thing_ that scarce deserves a Name, While he with _Slights_ rewards her Vertuous Flame: For tell me, can he less _Indifferent_ prove, Who thinks no Woman can Deserve his Love? No, no, _Melissa_, never think he can; For if you do, you're Cozen'd in your Man. Self-Affectation sways his little Sense; Nought but _Himself_ he Loves, and _Ignorance_. By fatal Chance, if such a Man you Wed, Better, _Melissa_, thou had'st Dy'd a Maid: Ev'n such a Lover, were a Plague too great; From such a Husband, Guard me, Oh my Fate! Shun too, my Dear, the _Lewder Wits_ o' th' Town, As watchfully as they'd avoid a Dun. For such a Man too soon wou'd let you see, _Lewdness_ and _Marriage_ do but ill Agree. Oft at the Theatre such Sparks I've seen, } With _Rakish Looks, half Drunk_, come Reeling in; } Tossing their _Wigs_, their _Backs_ against the Scene. } Regardless of the Play (a Mark of Wit) Bow to some Lewd Companion in the Pit. Take Snuff, fling round, in the Side-Box be seen, Whisper a Mask, and then Retire again, To some Lov'd _Tavern_, where's their chief Delight, } There in Debaucheries they spend the Night, } Then Stagger homeward by the Morning Light. }