jsonp({"type":"FeatureCollection", "features":[ { "type":"Feature", "geometry": { "type":"Point", "coordinates":[-0.107363,51.514648] }, "properties": { "markerid":"108", "markername":"Mrs. D—d", "basemap":"custom_basemap", "lat":"51.514648", "lon":"-0.107363", "icon":"female-3.png", "iconUrl":"http://www.romanticlondon.org/wp-content/uploads/leaflet-maps-marker-icons/female-3.png", "address":"", "text":"

Mrs. D—d, No. 6, Hind-court, Fleet Street.

   ———————————O my soul,
   Whither, whither art thou flying,
   Lost in sweet tumultuous dying?
   You tremble love, and so do I!
   Ah! stay, and we'll together dye;
   My soul shall take her flight with thine
   Life dissolving in delight,
   Heaving breasts and swimming sight,
   Faultering speech and gasping breath,
   Symptoms of delicious death;
   My soul is ready for the flight.

This lady appeared some years ago, to our readers, under the name of Ogl—, but as we have frequently seen, that a girl, though young, may yet be very disagreeable, so we may conclude, from Mrs. D—d, that a woman in years may be perfectly alluring; she is, indeed, turned of forty, rather fat and short, yet she looks well, dresses neat, and can divide as smartly covered, and as neat a leg and foot as ever beat time to the silent flute; her temper and behaviour are good, and if you are not soon disposed for the attack, she will shew you such a set of pictures, that very seldom fails to alarm the sleeping member. Then may you behold the lovely fount of delight, reared on two pillars of monumenatal alabaster; the symmetry of its parts, its borders enriched with wavering tendrils, its ruby portals, and the tufted grove, that crowns the summit of the mount, all join to invite the guest to enter. The cordial reception he meets therein, with the tide of flowing bliss, more delicious than the boasted nectar of the gods, engulph the raptured soul, and set the lovely owner of the premisses, above nine tenths of the green gewgaws that flutter about the town. If discipline forms the soldier in the wars of Mars, experience finishes the female combatant in the skirmishes of Venus. That experience this lady has, and is perfectly skilled in every delightful manoeuvre, knowing how to keep time, when to advance and retreat, to face to the right or left, and when to shower down a whole volley of love; so that those who are vanquished by her glory in their defeat, pant only for returning vigour to renew the combat; she is perfectly mistress in the art of restoring life, and performs the tender friction with a hand soft as turtles down. Keeps the house, and after giving you a whole night's entertainment, is perfectly satisfyed, and will give you a comfortable cup of tea in the morning, for one pound one.

(pp. 52-54)

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