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      The shepherds and the nymphs were seen Pleading before the Cyprian queen. The counsel for the fair began, Accusing the false creature Man. The brief with weighty crimes was charged On which the pleader much enlarged; That Cupid now has lost his art, Or blunts the point of every dart;—      His altar now no longer smokes, His mother's aid no youth invokes:      This tempts freethinkers to refine, And bring in doubt their powers divine; Now love is dwindled to intrigue, And marriage grown a money league; Which crimes aforesaid (with her leave)      Were (as he humbly did conceive)      Against our sovereign lady's peace, Against the statute in that case, Against her dignity and crown:      Then pray'd an answer, and sat down. The nymphs with scorn beheld their foes; When the defendant's counsel rose, And, what no lawyer ever lack'd, With impudence own'd all the fact; But, what the gentlest heart would vex, Laid all the fault on t'other sex. That modern love is no such thing As what those ancient poets sing:      A fire celestial, chaste, refined, Conceived and kindled in the mind; Which, having found an equal flame, Unites, and both become the same, In different breasts together burn,      Together both to ashes turn. But women now feel no such fire, And only know the gross desire. Their passions move in lower spheres, Where'er caprice or folly steers, A dog, a parrot, or an ape, Or some worse brute in human shape, Engross the fancies of the fair, The few soft moments they can spare, From visits to receive and pay, From scandal, politics, and play; From fans, and flounces, and brocades, From equipage and park parades, From all the thousand female toys, From every trifle that employs The out or inside of their heads, Between their toilets and their beds. In a dull stream, which moving slow, You hardly see the current flow; If a small breeze obstruct the course, It whirls about, for want of force, And in its narrow circle gathers Nothing but chaff, and straws, and feathers. The current of a female mind Stops thus, and turns with every wind:      Thus whirling round together draws Fools, fops, and rakes, for chaff and straws. Hence we conclude, no women's hearts Are won by virtue, wit, and parts:      Nor are the men of sense to blame, For breasts incapable of flame; The faults must on the nymphs be placed Grown so corrupted in their taste. The pleader having spoke his best, Had witness ready to 

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