A
DIALOGUE
between
the D. of C. and the D. of P.
at their meeting in
PARIS,
With the Ghost of Jane Shore.
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C. ARt thou return'd my sister Concubine,
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For all those subtle Cunning Arts of thine.
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With which thou didst subdue our Monarchs heart
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And would'st not let me with thee share a part.
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Tho my great beauty did that heart subdue,
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Long ere it could so meanly stoop to you?
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P. I am return'd to see my native France,
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The place where first I saw the world by Chance.
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Tho mean by Birth, yet Fortune this can do,
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Help by the charms of Wit and Beauty too,
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Me thinks my Port and my illustrious Traine,
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Should rather move your envy than Disdaine,
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C. My envy! no thy meanness I dispise.
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Thou art a Begger still tho in disguise.
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The noble Ladys of the Gallick Cou[rt]
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Will mock at your fine gaudy Train and Port.
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Thy Convers and thy Company they'l scorn,
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Since thou of Genteel Blood was't never born.
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P. The King's Example Dutches you will find,
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Shall make the Ladys of this Court more kind,
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For many services for him I'ave done,
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Which he I'm sure with Kindness now will own.
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I'ave serv'd him with my person and my Wit,
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But how, to tell you Madam, 'tis not fit.
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C. If you have ought for this great Monarch done,
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He'l make you then some Abbless or a Nun.
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For I do find 'tis not the guise of France
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Their Whores to noble Titles to advance
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But Usually the Royal Miss is sent,
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To some Religious Cloyster to repent.
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P. It is not yet that time of Day with me,
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Nor am I fallen to so low degree;
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More joyful days I yet do hope to see.
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Tho I have here of English Guinies store,
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I thither will return, and get me more.
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England will me a plenteous Harvest Yield,
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Here to buy Lands and Palaces to Build.
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C. Methinks you talk at an immodest rate,
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Thou French She-Horse-lecch of the English state:
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Rome us'd to draw its richest Treasures thence
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The English Gold was chang'd to Peters pence:
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But now that Rome can draw from thence no more
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It is Enhansed by a Gallick------
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P. If I'm immodest me thinks you are Vain
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Thus Idly of my riches to Complain:
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England did once to you an Harvest Yield,
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Alas! I'ave but the gleanings of the field.
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Gold fell into your Lap with a spring tide,
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But you have spent it on your Lust and Pride;
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Your time is past the Lust has made you old,
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And to be serv'd you now must give your gold.
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Or fumble with some weak old Clergy man
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To get a spill your royet to maintain.
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C. O Madam you must needs be very chast
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If as they say the prior you embrac'd
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I Laugh to hear of Chastity from you
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As if a Whore was E're to one man true.
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I own my nature it is brave and high,
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With Messalina I my self could Vie.
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Let a dull Husband ly with her that's chast
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I by a Prince am fit to be embrac'd.
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P. Brag not, your decay'd beauty is grown stale,
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And all your Arts no longer can prevail.
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I yet retain my glorious Conquering Charms.
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Whilst you are banish'd from a Monarchs Arms
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Alas your Beauty now is in the waine
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No Art Can e're renew that Face again,
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Madam the shining glories are all set
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Which makes you thus at the successor fret.
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C. Dull tool, my eyes yet sparkle and are good,
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I feel a vigorous May yet in my blood,
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I'm found and free from any foul disease,
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Can warm a Lover and know how to please.
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Whilst thou Corrupted scents the very room
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In spite of Essences and strang perfume.
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I can't but wonder by what Magick Art
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Thou e're could'st Conquer a great Monarchs heart,
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That babys Face of thine? and those black eyes,
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Me thinks should ne'r an Heroes Love surprise.
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None that are had eyes e're saw in that French face
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O're much of Beauty form or Comly grace.
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P. You are my Rival and may me dispise
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But Lovers see not with your envious eyes.
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If you in beauty have the greatest share,
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And if that mine cannot with yours Compare
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My wit exceeds and yours have prov'd but ill,
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Since you'r Cast off and I am Courted still.
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C. When I did raign I like a Queen did show,
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I sat above and saw Crown'd heads below,
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Of Jewels and of Gold I had such store,
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I knew not how to seek or wish for more.
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To me the Idols of the Court all bow'd,
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I was adored by the numerous Croud.
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Till thou wert seen who with some Magic spell,
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Some charm or philtre that was made in Hell;
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Didst my great Heroes heart then steal away,
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And took by hell bred Arts my Beauties Prey.
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This be my comfort I did first subdue,
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They were my Leavings that were shar'd to you.
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P. It shows my Wit and Beauty had most power,
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When I subdu'd your mighty Conquerour;
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And that I broke into your Beauties Charms,
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And ravished your Hero from your Arms.
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I'ave rul'd as well as you and my French pate,
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Have div'd into the great intreagues of State:
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In Balls and Masques you revel'd out your nights,
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But Madam I did relish state delights,
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My politiques and Arts were deeper Bred,
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Than ever came into your shallow Head,
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Vain Pride and pleasure were the things you sought,
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Whilst that four Kingdoms did imploy my thought.
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States men did know that you were but a fool,
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But they from me took Measures how to Rule.
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C. And yet I see you are turnd off at last,
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And all your cunning policies Misplac'd.
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P. You are deceiv'd, and I shall make you mourn,
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When you shall see me Madam back return
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Mind you your pleasures game your time away,
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My business will not let me lo[n]ger stay.
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To our great Monarch I have much to say.
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C. If back to England thou should'st e're return,
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May thou become the common Peoples scorn.
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May against thee the London Pre[?] rise,
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And may they pull out thy bewitching eyes.
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Against that time I will go learn to Curse,
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That Pox or Plague I'le wish thee something worse.
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What spector's this!
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P. O Heav'ns what have we here!
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My Joynts do tremble and my soul doth fear.
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The Ghost of Jane Shore to them
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Ghost. Perhaps you know me not, yet take a view,
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See what I am, I was once such as you
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I was a whore a Royal Mistress too.
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I was a woman of Egregious fame
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And like you two I gloried in my shame
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Edward my Lord was, and Jane Shore my name.
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I liv'd in splendor and enjoy'd delights,
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Feasted all day and in Loves luscious rights,
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Between a Monarchs Armes wore out the Nights.
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But when at last my happy Monarch dy'd,
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I lost my Riches Pleasures and my Pride,
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And all that ere was sweet or good beside.
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Alas, remember what of me became,
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My honour stain'd and black was all my fame,
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Scorn of the People to my self a shame.
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A wretch I grew wish'd I were never born,
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Poor and Contemn'd and every Rascals scorn,
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Unpitied dy'd most wretched and forlorn.
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But happy had I been had this been all,
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Or if that I had had no farther fall,
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But Hell on my misdeeds aloud did call.
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Tormented in the flames of Hell below,
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No ease from Torment pain and endless woe
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For pleasures past my scorched soul doth know.
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Short were my pleasures while I lived here,
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And those were also mixt with grief and fear
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But pain Eternal's in the lower sphear-
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You two great Women great in lust and sin
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Repent, repent, and to reform begin,
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For your reward you Hell at last will win.
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Rivals look on me and Contend no more,
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What you are now I once was long before,
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Yet I am damn'd altho' a Royal Whore.
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