Canidia, or, The witches a rhapsody, in five parts / by R.D.

Ambros . ad Valent. L. 5. Ep. 39.

Neque Imperiale est , Libertatem Dicendi negare : Neque Sacerdotale est , Quod Sentiat , non Dicere .

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY . In Five Parts .

By R. D.

LONDON , Printed by S. Roycroft , for Robert Clavell at the Peacock in St. Pauls Church-yard , 1683.

TO THE READER .

IF I only Personate by a Prosopopeia , the Genius and Humor , the Strain and Language of an Vnlucky Witch , I cannot Justly incur any Displeasure , nor the Imputation of a Crime . I make no other Apology to the Learned and Candid Reader , but hav good reasonable Hope , that he may reap some Benefit and Delight , whensoever he shall vouchsafe to divert himself from the Fatigues of more Serious Studies , to this Rhapsody : Especially , if he be a Lover of Vertue , whose Beauty is here , for Advantage , veiled by a Thin Lawn ; And then I shall believe my Pains well bestowed . As for those that slight these Endeavours , I shall reckon them no better than Bewitcht . Farewell .

When Sound Notions no Friends can make , Try , if Burlesque and Droll won't Take : If not , Boy , a Quart of Canary at the Mitre , score ; I 'le Trust Devil , nor Witch no more .

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY . The First Part.

The Prologue . I CANIDIA , Great General , And Governess of Witches-Hall , Command You in mine Own and Pluto's Names , To Play with Me all Deadly Games . Let us be counted Cruel Dames , Though to Our Everlasting Shames .

THE WITCHES . CANTO I. COme gallant Sisters , come along , Let 's meet the Devil Ten thousand strong , Upon the Whales and Dolphins backs , Let 's try to choak the Sea with Wrecks ; Split Ships on Rocks in the dark Nights , Spring Leaks , and sink them down to rights . And then wee 'l scud away to Shoar , And try what Tricks we can play more . Blow Houses down , ye Jolly Dames , Or burn them up in fiery Flames ; Le ts rowze up Mortals from their sleep , And send them packing to the Deep . Let 's strike them dead with Thunder-Stones , With Lightning scorch to Skin and Bones ; For Winds and Storms by Sea or Land , You may dispose , you may command . Sometimes in dismal Caves we lie , Or in the Air aloft we flie ; Sometimes we caper o're the Main , Thunders and Lightnings we disdain ; Sometimes we tumble Churches down ; And level Castles with the ground ; We fire whole Cities , and destroy Whole Armies , if they us annoy . We strangle Infants in the Womb , And raise the Dead out of their Tomb ; We haunt the Palaces of Kings , And play such prancks and pretty things : And this is all our chief delight , To do all mischief in despight , And when w' have done , to shift away Untoucht , unseen by night or day . When Imps do suck our postern Teats , We make them act unlucky Feats , In Puppets , Wax , sharp Needles-points We stick , to torture Limbs and Joynts ; With Frogs and Toads , most poys'nous gore , Our grizly Limbs we 'noint all ore , And strait away , away we go , Sparing no Mortal , friend nor foe . We 'l sell you Winds , and every Charm , Or venemous Drug that may do harm ; For Beasts or Fowls we have our Spells , Laid up in store in our dark Cells : For there the Devils use to meet , And dance with Horns and Cloven-feet ; And when w' have done we frisk about , And through the World play Revel-Rout . In Charnel-houses we do crawl , Ratling the Bones of great and small ; We hurl Wild-fire-Balls or'e mens heads , And slily creep into their Beds ; We knock men down , and hurl huge Stones , And Clubs and Bats to break their Bones ; We play Bo-peep , and put out Lights , Groan , howl and scare Folk with strange sights . We ride on Cows and Horses Rumps , O're Lakes and Rivers fetch large Jumps ; We grasp the Moon , and scale the Sun , And stop the Planets as they run : We kindle Comets , dazeling flames , And whistle for the Winds by names ; And for our Pastimes and mad Freaks , 'Mong Stars we play at Barly-breaks . We are Ambassadors of State , And know the Mysteries of Fate ; In Pluto's Bosom , there we ly , To learn each Mortals Destiny , As Oracles their Fortunes shew , If they be born to Wealth or Wo. The Spinning Sisters hands we guide , And in all this we take a pride . To Lapland , Finland we do Skice , Sliding on Seas and Rocks of Ice ; T' old Beldams there , our Sisters kind , We do impart our Hellish mind ; We take their Seals and Hands in Blood , For ever to renounce all Good : And then as they in Dens do lurk , We set the ugly Jades a-work . We know the Treasures and the Stores , Lock'd up in Caves with Brazen-doors ; Gold and Silver sparkling Stones We pile on heaps , like Dead mens Bones ; There the Devils brood and hover , Keep Guards that none should them discover ; But upon all the Coasts of Hell , 'T is we , 't is we stand Centinel .

CANTO II. Agrippa , Merlin , Faustus , Asses And Dunces to us Stygian Lasses . The Oracle was but a Fool , That breath'd from Delphos Three foot-Stool , Apollo , one of his high Rank , A Fidler , Quack , a Mountebank . 'T is we can Conjuring-circles make , Such as shall cause the World to quake . We creep into the Center-Hole , Thence to the North and Southern-Pole ; We clamber Pyramids , and stride Colossusses , and Atlas ride : S●rombalo and Mongibel , The Representatives of Hell ; They vomit Brimstone , Flames and Smoak , Which never us as yet could choak . Lords , Princes , Emperours and Kings , Poor inconsiderable Things ; For Wealth , and Mirth , and Pow'r , none dare With our Society compare : The Indies both with all their gain , Make but one pitiful Beggar Spain , Poor Egypt , Chalde , Rome and Greece , 'T is we that have the Golden-Fleece . The Philosophic-Stone we claim , 'T is Ours to all the Chymists shame ; We taught Copernicus , who found The Sun stands still , the Earth turns round : Archytas Dove by Us was sped , And Friar Bacons Brazen-Head ; Old Mother Shipton was our Dam , With all the Spawn of Amsterdam . The Raving Priest , the Vestal Nun , Augurs , Magi , are all outdone ; Sybils and Medea's Whores , Not worthy to keep our Doors : Each Colchos or Thessalian Fuss , Pedlars that truckle under us ; You may hear them make their Brags , But w' are the Virtuoso Hags . Gibbets , Gallowses and Wheels , Halters , Fetters , Whips and Steels ; Axes , Bolts , Saws and poys'ned Darts , Racks , Hooks and Pincers are our Arts : We cram a Brood of Vulturs , Cravens , Owls , Bats , Scrietch-Owls and Night-Ravens ; Cerberus , that ugly Dog , Shall watch all these with Chain and Clog . Satyrs and Mermaids are our Broods , Hobgoblins , Fairies , Robinhoods : All these do make a Jolly Crew , And so we give the Devil his due ; Because he helps us at this rate , To be reveng'd on all we hate ; And if Revenge will ever please , Mortals shall never take their ease . Incubus and Succubus Are Secrets only known to us ; Changlings , Idiots and Fools , Are bred and practic'd in our Schools : Th' Entoxicating Cup of Love , And the Abortive Drink , we prove ; The Night-Mares and the Foolish-Fire , Which silly Mortals so admire . We treat Mad-Bedlams , Toms and Besses , With Ceremonies and Caresses ; The roaring Crew of Ranting Ghosts Flock in vast Troops unto our Coasts : We entertain them as our Friends , Nor shall they want their hopeful ends ; For upon Pluto's stately Bench Are Lords for every dainty Wench . Medusa's , Gorgon's Snaky Tresses , Use to be our finer Dresses ; We look like Owls , and Bears , and Cats , We creep about like Mice and Rats : Jackanapes and Monky-Faces Become us , as our chiefest Graces ; And in our Antick Dances spring In Masques , fit Pastime for a King . Pegasus is our Hackny-Jade , Centaurs are Hobbies for our Trade , As far as Cham or Great Mogul , Ridden by every Petty Trull . In Gypsies Companies we go , Tell Fortunes , and steal Children too ; For every Fiend or Empuse sake , What is 't we dare not undertake ? Pedlars Sluts and Tinkers Trulls , Hectors , Bully-rocks and Gulls ; Whores , Bawds and Pimps , and all the Tribe Of Cheats and Cutpurses , we bribe ; We trade with Vsurers and Misers , Sophisters and poor Sub-Sizers ; Brokers , Bankrupts for a Shift ; We help them still at a Dead-lift : And was there e're so brave a Gang , In all this World , more fit to hang ?

CANTO III. If any lack to know his Fate For a Wife , or an Estate ; For a Voyage , Live or Dy , To Fall , or Conquer Enemy : If it be to get a Crown , We can lift up or pull down ; To shift an Heir out of the way , To make a younger Brother play . To slink a Boy , that dares to enter , To stop a gap by a second Venter ; Hang him , Damn him , let him go . If any lack a Miss , or so , Or if a Chamber-Maid , forsooth , Be crackt by any dainty Tooth , Send her to us ; for it is said , We can make her a perfect Maid . If Nineteen weds a Beldam-Mate Of Ninety , and longs for a rich young Bait , We 'l fit him with a Girl in Teens , We know how , and what he means ; The Feat is done , all in a trice , Two great Estates , and married twice . It is enough , yet let him range , Tell us when h 'as a mind to change . We deal not only with bare Fools , But Knaves and learn'd in Courts and Schools : We trade in Camps , in Merchants Wares , In Shops , Farms and Plow-Shares . To us nothing can come amiss , To our Net all that comes is Fish : Right or wrong no matter what , We can shew you a trick for that . If ye lack one of the Rump , Of the long Robe ▪ or the short Jump ; From the Confessing Chair or Stool , From the Quaking Knave or Fool , In the Parlour or Conclave , A Committe or Junto Slave , We 'l warrant you their help or favour , We bind all th' World to their good Behaviour . Monks and Friars , and the Train Of Lords Inquisitors of Spain ; Nuns , Priests or Anchorites we probe , And Gentlemen of the Long-Robe : Juglers , Dancers on the Ropes , Abbots , Cardinals and Popes ; Physicians and every Bard , That helps to make a fat Church-yard . Come along my Hearts , what is 't you lack ? From the Pedlar and his Pack , To the great Dons we drive a Trade , Joyn with us , and be for ever made . If you procure us on your side , We 'l do your Business every Tide ; We ply hard for a Fare up or down , In City or in Country Town . If you lack a Dainty-Sister , She 's yours , be sure , we never mist her . If cut a Knot , or split a Hair ; We 'l be your Counsel , never fear : Or do you lack Knights of the Post , To stab a Cause , spare for no Cost ; Suborn a Witness , greaze a Fist , And you shall have what you lift . Canst thou hit a lofty Strain , Strike dead sure on a Royal Vein ? Canst thou kiss , and laugh and grin , To see the last Heart-blood spin ? Mock at groans and dying Faces , Entertain them with Embraces ; Sing aloud Triumphant Notes , While thou art a cutting Throats . Dance on the Carkasses of Kings , Those inconsiderable Things ; Dash out the Brains of Noble Wights , Poyson or Pistol all to rights : Then come to us , and thou shalt find All our Corporation kind : Revenge thy Foes , advance thy Story , Get the everlasting Glory . Can you look out sharp with a Grace , Or put on a brazen-Face ? Sugar your Tongue , or oyl your Knee , Stand bent , or creep to Flattery : Nay , can you Smile and Kill together , Hold out all brunts of Wind and Weather ; You and your Rogues may choose your Fates , Be hang'd or damn'd at any Rates . Can you be prostitute , or stand To every base and foul Command , Without reflecting , without thinking , Like Devils without shrinking ? Then you are for our turn , Com on ; D' you make Faces ? Dogs , be gon . They are not fit for us at all That scruple coming at first Call . O Flattery , thou prevailing Art ! 'Mong Witches thou dost act thy part : O're the Grandees thou dost prevail , Base fawning Consul , dost thou wag thy Tail ? They crush and advance each other , A Rogue may his fellow-Rogue discover ; But undermine all you can , The Knave with the honest man . O Revenge , thou pleasing Bait , Work it on all you love or hate ; Fail not be sure to cringe or smile , Dissemble deeply all the while : Tongue , Heart and Hand keep far asunder , When they meet 't will be a wonder . Regard not others Weal nor Wo , Love Self , your own mind let none know . Stand low in the Dark to all , but view Aloft all in the Light to you . Manfully bring about your ends , Without regard to Foes or Friends . A Witches craft is to out-wit Any thing that 's just and fit , And gallantly to throw all by That in your way as Blocks shall lie . Blaspheme the Stars , and curse the Fates , Which thwart your publick or private States . Cross them again , for you can do it ; I say , be valiant and stand to it . Influences or contingent Chances , Are but Fortunes , Jigs and Dances : A Noble Spirit is the same still , Right or wrong she has her Will. We were not born , to be tost Like Slaves in Blankets , but to rule the rost ; Come what will , whole or broken Pates , Look to your Hilts at any rates . The silly Imps are always mumpt , But wise Witches are never crumpt ; He is an Ass that will be pumpt . What over-reach'd , cavil'd , outwitted ? Such a Gull deserves to be Spitted . Beg him , Beg him for a Fool , And send him to the Ducking-Stool . Sowce him , Salt him , flea him , roast him , Cane him , kick him , box him , post him . He that is a Cock o' th' Game , Never yields to any shame ; A Rogue he will be by yea or nay , A Traytor to his dying Day . This it is to be a Witch , When a man's Fingers itch , To do all baseness , and outface The Devil , to his disgrace . Of this I 'le not bate you an Ace ; Trump about , Cog a Dye , Spare not to tell , or act any Lye , Out-face the face of Villany . Ne're be danted , stop your ears At the cries of Cares or Fears , Sighs and Tears ; poor silly things , Fit to move Nobles , Princes , Kings . Be above all , scorn to be true Or just , to give any Man his due . Pay Debts , give to Poor , what 's worse ? My Son , keep mony in thy Purse . Civility , a pretty thing , good Nature , 'T is a Monster , hunt her , bait her , Pull her down , with a full Cry Of Hell-hounds , make her dye : She combers the World , post her to Hell , 'Mongst Men she is not fit to dwell . Get all , take all , save all , part With nothing , let ev'ry Penny go t' your heart : These are our Principles , think no evil , Rake Hell and scum the Devil . Let the World sink or swim about ye , So you be safe , nothing doubt ye ; Be not concern'd for any Elf , So it be well with your own Self . They talk of Consciences , 't is a Flea bite , 'T is Conscience to bid all Honesty good night . These are the Dictates and the Rules , Which all will follow , but stark Fools . I say then come , and we will teach you To climb so high , as none shall reach you ; Be , and do any thing , laugh or cry , Swear and forswear , all 's Destiny : Lye , Steal , Murder at any rate , Torment Mortals in sp●ght of Fate ; The more you do , the more you may , And never fear a Judgment Day .

CANTO IV. Then have at all ; Oh , we would burn The Universe , and overturn The frame of Nature , and look on And laugh at such Confusion ▪ A Chaos would be a fine sight , Of all things buried in dark Night● And after all , 't were rarely well If we could turn all into Hell . 'Mongst Cannibals and Salvage Beasts , And Monsters we do make our Nests ; W' are conversant in Holes and Caves , In Sepulchres and Dead mens Graves ; In Hills and Dales , and Desert Woods , In Gulfs and Quick-Sands , Springs and Floods ; We muster all the dreadful Devils , As Mistresses of all the Revels . To burn the Thatch , or a poor Lamb , Torture the Devil and his Dam ; When Women scratch or burn our Hair , W' are in a fit of great despair : When they cut off Cats Legs or Heads , It makes us forthwith take our Beds ; But most of all , when w'hear the Hiss Of Pipkins stopt with Pins or Piss . We whisper in a Camels Ear , Or nod unto a rugged Bear ; And they shall carry us out or in , O're all the World , through thick and thin : But throw an Old-shoe with a Spell , Or nail a Horse-shoe cross the Cell , 'T will drive away Devil or Man , And let them hurt you if they can . St. Dunstan's Tongs , under the Rose , Took the Devil by the Nose ; Th' enchanted Chair , and Holy-Wand , Cap , Cowl and Pall do him command : The Holy-Water , Ring or Smoak , Drive him quite away , or Choak The Circle Character'd round , Raises or sinks him under-ground . We sit in the Great Cham's Lap , And seed his Brungeons with Pap ; The Mogul and Crim-Tartar is our Friend , And we to them are no less kind . The Roman State had not so thriv'd , If we their Policies had not contriv'd ; From Monotape to Tapobran , We strive to advance every Man . Semyramis , Sesostris , Cyrus , All the Magi did admire us : Turky , Russia , Lituania , Moscovy , Prusia , Transylvania . What so remote or Barbarous Nation , When we have not fix'd our Station ; Planted our Oracles of Fame , For their Wise men to get a Name ? China had Guns and Sulphur Dust , Printing and curious Arts in trust By us ; nor do they their Faith betray , To teach their Neighbours to this day . Others have stumbl'd on them by chance ; But we first of all led the Dance . Never no glorious Enterprize , But from us it took its Rise . Columbus the New World first found , Vespucius conquered the Ground ; But we were Aborigino's there , As we are almost every where . We rockt and knockt Old Time in 's Cradle , Which makes his Brains ever since Adle ; Yet he eats Children still , And wields his Sythe admirably well . Manetho , Sanchuniathon , Joyn'd with us in Consultation . Zoroastres , Orpheus , Plato , Aristotle , Theophrastus , Cato , Proclus , Mercurius , Trismegistus , At our Councils never mist us : Porphyry , Psellus waited there , Jamblichus too had his Chair . Socrates Daemon , infinite more Attendants on the same score . Aegyptian , Chaldee , Assyrian Rites , Are our Mysterious Delights . Memphis , Thebes , Athens , Rome , We take to be our constant Home . All the abstruse and Sacred Arts , Profest by Men of profound Parts , The Sybils taught , I do declare , And every Body knows what they were . We bind the Spirits in the Red Sea A Thousand years , and set them free . Methinks I see the Rogues , till then , ( Damnation to the Sons of Men ) Vow , when they come abroad again , Ten Thousand times more grief and pain : But for all this Harly-bur , Till we give leave they shall not stir . They talk of Laws ; the World shall know We give , not take Laws from high or low . We 'l cramp the Judge , and Grand Inquest , And stop the Verdict of the rest . Jaylor , Hang-man we deny , And all such Rogues we can defie ; We 'l live and die at our own Pleasures , There 's none shall give us Rules or Measures . Swimming , Biting , Scratching , Banging , Keeps us from Drowning , not from Hanging . Judges and Sheriffs fain would tame us ; Juries bring in all Ignoramus . 'T is only the Rabble , Women and Boys , That are afraid of their Pigs and Poultry De●oys . The Country-man loses his Dairy and Cows , Children , Horses , Waggons and Plows . I 'm angry , be reveng'd on all , Though for Pluto's help they call ; We scorn his Aid , 't is come to pass , We 'l quickly prove the Devil 's an Ass . W' have got the day , serve him no more , Nor Proserpine , his dirty Whore ; And that we may b'alone in Evil , Let 's all resolve to kill the Devil .

CANTO V. Oberon the Fairy King , And Mab his Queen , that pretty thing ; Peppercorn , Sir Pigwiggin too , Those Doughty Knights of the Old Shoe ; Pigmies low , and Giants Tall , These must Answer to our Call , And they do to us resort , To Dance and Sing , and make us sport . Polyphemus , Hogmagog , Play before us at Leap-Frog ; Blind Homer , and the merry Greek , At Hide and Seek will make us squeek . Brontes and Steropes with brawny Arms , Hammer Jove's Bolts and Mars his Arms ; Bacchus and Silenus Drunk , With Vulcan and Venus his Punck . Thief Mercury shall cut a Purse ; Crafty Vlysses shall do worse . Helena , stoln by Paris bold , Shall wrong dispose the Pome of Gold . Ganymed , Cupid , parlous Boys For Kissing , and all other Toys . We have our Masques , and Mid-night Revels , Till we be all as drunk as Devils . Our Musick is harmonious Notes , Crowding from our hoarser Throats : Cats , Scriech Owls , Wolves , Dogs , Bulls and Bears , In Consort please our skilful Ears : Such dismal howling , yelling , crying , Revives us , though we lay a dying . All the Devils flock about us ; But they can do nothing without us . Diogenes is in his Tub , Hercules brandishes his Club ; Sardanapalus , step but in , Amongst the Maids you 'l see them Spin. Bellisarios poor and blind , Give him a Farthing , be so kind ; Remember Alexander too , And bury him , having less to do . Caesar and Pompey may do well ; But you 'l not hear them nam'd in Hell . They had a Fame , but it is gone , Ask the Ghosts , they hear of none . They that frighted the World so wide , In Coblars Stalls below do hide . Overgrown Thieves and Murtherers high , Buried now in Obscurity . One Rare sight more , open your Eyes , There 's Domitian catching Flies . See Bloody Nero , how he struts , And kicks Poppaea on the Guts : He Sings and Fiddles , at the sight Of no less Flames than Romes , by Night ; Disguis'd in habit of a Swain , Handsomly basted for his pain . The Devil was in him ; for they say , He ript his Dam up , saw where he lay . Sejanus was a Rogue , and Cateline , Against their Country to combine . Sylla and Marius did proscribe The richest Gulls of every Tribe . Brutus and Cassius stab'd a Commander , As great as e're was Alexander . Cleopatra's doting Fool Mark Antony , send them to School , With Lepidus ; let Octavius whip'um , For to the Throne he did out-skip'um . Come Satyrs , swinge your Whips of Steel , We 'l help you slash , and make'um feel . A Generation of Knaves , For sending Innocents to their Graves . Xerxes , how shamefully he crows Over the Waves , and gives them blows And Fetters too , to keep them in awe , For breaking his Bridge , indeed Law . A Famous Duke , with Pompous Train , With a rich Ring Marries the Main . From Brittish Shoars another swells , And triumphs brave with Cockle-shells . Cuckold Claudius , Messaline ▪ Is every Varlets , more than thine . Before thy Face married thy Slave , And led the Bride-groom to his Grave . Another thinks he did much braver , In doing his Horse that mighty Favour , To make him Consul , not to fear danger , Gave him to boot a Golden Manger . One feeds his Lampries , fresh and fresh , With fattest gobs of slavish Flesh ; For a Glass broke , or Porridge spilt , Runs his Dagger up to the Hilt . He that shines in Diadems , Drinks the Dust of Pearl and Gems , In Crystal Cups ; 'T is costly Art , For a Cordial next his Heart . Heliogabalus , the Gormandizer , Caracalla the Bloody Miser ; Dionysius , that Tyrant Devil , Tiberius , Author of all Evil ; Romulus , Tarquin , Villains bold , The Plague of Mortals , young and old : Monsters of Men , the Shame of Crowns ; The Sword 's an Enemy to Gowns . One cuts Mount Athos in two pieces , The Wiser gets the Golden Fleeces . Don Quixots Red-Cross-Man in Steel , Takes chanted Castles , makes Giants reel ; Relieves all poor distressed Ladies , And I 'le assure you does it Gratis . George kill'd the Dragon , sav'd the Maid , E're since Knights-Errant are decay'd . O poor Tantalus , O poor Ixion , O poor Prometheus , in hard Iron ; O poor Danaides , all the Fry Of miserable Wretches , Come and try What we can do , when all Helps fail , If the Head can't save you , try the Tail . Will you always lie a dying , Like Fools , howling and crying ? We see the World all in a Glass , What manner of Man Adam was . All the mad Pranks that have been plaid , Since the Foundation was laid ; We have Patterns fit for every Work , From the Jew to the Great Turk . Come then to us , for we can tell Of all the Rogueries in Hell . These and a Thousand more brave Sights , Are represented for Delights . Thus we battle in our Grease , And Frolick in what Games we please . We have our merry Bouts , our Jovial Bowzi●● Our Junckets and our large Carowzings ; Pampring our Genius , while we may , With Nectar and Ambrosia . We Devils Birds thus stufft and cram'd , Our End is to be hang'd and damn'd .

CANTO VI. Lack you a Thousand Pound Wench , To lift you to the Coram-Bench ; Court her Ghostly Father , she 's Demure , And you have her Cock-sure . Lack you to drive a subtle Trade , Mount , ride your Horse to a Jade ; To Conventickling now or never , And you are made a Man for ever . Would you climb to high Degree , Fee a Thais lustily ; Greaze her Servants , build her Bowers , And all Corinth shall be yours . Catamits or Bardash Toys , Dainty content of Girls or Boys : The Stews of Venice is the same With the Long-Gallery of Amsterdam . Lack you Glass Eyes , or Painted-Faces , Bumbasts , Iron-Stays , or Laces ; Fair Sets of Teeth , Bridges or Noses , Palats or Plump Breasts , soft as Roses ; Silver Hands , or Wooden Stumps , For Arms or Legs , or larger Rumps ; Or any other Secret Ware , We can fit you to a Hair . A Chair-Man , or a Sequestrator , Committee-Man , or Agitator ; The Naked Wight , or Tub-Divider , The Stool , the Bench , or Stage-Bestrider . These are brave Fellows , the rest are Fools , That plod and puzzle in the Schools . We 'l shew you a nearer way to rise To honour , than by Sacrifice . Cromwel , Bradshaw , Peters , Pride , Cook , Axtel , Okey , Ironside ; Chastel , Clement , Revilliac , Fitz-harris , Pick'ring ; do you lack Furies , the strangling Dwarfs or Mutes , Assasin-Banditi-Brutes , We can furnish you , live or dead , To do your business at Board or Bed . The Plaugues of Europe , Goths and Vandals , Huns , Heruli , those Northern Scandals ; Loiola's , d' Alva 's , Romanenses , ( Hugonots and Albigenses , John Hus , Jerom of Prague , Innocents by them betray'd , ) Zisca shall bang them with his Bum , When his Skin shall be made a Drum . Popish , Presbyterian Trade , Traytors all in Masquerade ; Plots and Sham-Plots , Whigs and Tories , That trouble us with sad Stories ; Grebner , Lilly , Nostre-dames , Whiggish Packt Juries , Ignoramus : Let the cause be what it will , It shall be Billa Vera still . Twelve Godfathers , Good Men and True , can Create a Knave , or an Honest man ; Guilty , or Not guilty make , For Fear , or Love , or Hatred's sake . Any thing to end or promote Strife , Bribe to the Death , or to the Life ; Our Lives , Wives , Children , Fortunes lye At one Rogues turning of a Dye . He 'l Swear ye through a Milstone , Lye From the Earth's Center to the Sky . He 'l split y' a Hair , and ever after Sink ye between Wind and Water . Give you a Broad-side , Board ye , rake ye , Hall ye , burn ye , stem ye , take ye ; Bear-up , luff , or tack-about , In all Winds and Weathers , in or out . Like Proteus , change to every shape , Lion , Lamb , Fox , Dog or Ape ; Drink ye all Waters , swallow Death , And yet never be out of breath . Turn him every way and wind him , But true you shall never find him . He 's every thing for what you gave him , To do or undo , as you 'd have him . These are but Knights o' th' Post and Petty-Foggers , Bumbaily Slaves and dull Plow-Joggers ; 'T would vex a Man to starve or hang By such , fit for nought but to bang . Give us the Equivocating Proctors , The sublime Reservation Doctors ; The lofty Rosicrucian strains , That purchase Kingdoms for their pain● ▪ Hang Dammy-Boys , Stiletto-Blades , Porters , Carmen , Assassinates . The Wits , the Wits , the State Divines , Loretta , Compostella Shrines ; The Rota , or the Areopagus , Apollonius , or Simon Magus ; A Felton , or Ravilliac's Hand , A Massanello's Command . The Man in Hair-Cloth , the bald Crown , Devours the Riches of the Town ; For all his Cords , Sack and Hair-dressing , Lords and Ladies must ask him Blessing . A Crosier , Miter , Triple Crown , Scepters and Diadems pull down . This is Cheating with a Witness , Betwixt Religion and Fitness . The rest are Mongrel Curs , that Bark , But dare not Bite , save in the dark . Pitiful Buffoons , and Bumkin Boors , Send 'um to truck amongst the Moors . Give us the Renegado Blades , That drive the Turk or Jewish Trades . What 's a pimping Shark or Rook ? Let 's die bravely by the Book . 'T is we prompted the ugly Moor , To bar up the Castle-door ; Ravish the Lady , Lord comes home , Slave mounts to th' upper Room , Murders his Children 'fore his face ; Begging to spare his younger Race , He yields , if he will cut off his Nose ; The Father did so ; the Slave chose To kill the last Child , throws him down , And himself split upon the ground . Th' Italian threats his Friend to kill , Except he swear aginst his will ; To save his life , he swore , was sham'd ; Then die , says he , Villain , and die damn'd ! A Bigot , to revenge his Brothers death Arms Cap-a-pee , foams out of breath ; Ceases not to Swear and Swagger , Till h 'as the Murdrers Heart or point Dagger .

CANTO VII . Ours are Robbin-Hood , Whipping-Tom , and all the Lines Of Bloody Guelphs and Gibbelins . We were at the Sycilian Evensong , To Paris Massacre we did throng , Where Blood and Wine were spilt and drank ; Good store , to play a wedding Prank , Upon St. Bartholomew his score ; For that trick , Trust him no more . Peter Ramus , after all their Looks , Thou wast found hid under thy Books . Varlets all gone , but one , he had a Charm , Alas poor Scholar , felt thy Cushion warm . Thou diest a Scholars death with all thy Logick ; Was not this a gallant Frollick ! A Marshal , and brave Souls , had their lot That dismal Night , to go to th' Pot . The Powder-Treason , Eighty Eight , All the Conspiracies of late . We built the Scaffold for a King , Before his House of Banquetting ; After long baiting , out of breath , Brought to his Door to feast on Death . One kept on 's knees , pray'd for good luck , Whilst the Fatal Blow was struck . Bajazet's Cage , and Pompey's Boat , Where the Egyptian cut his Throat ; Seneca's Bath , Phalaris Bull , The Trojan Horse , believ 't that wull ; The groaning Stairs , the Starving Vault , With the Lamp everlasting fraught ; The Sack thrown in the Sea , fast tyed , With Dog , Ape , Viper , Cock and Parricide . Jack Straw , Wat Tylar , Perkin , Simson , Went for Princes clad in Crimson , Till we brought them to the Spit , Or Gallows , to learn more wit . John-a-Styles , and John-an-Okus , Jack Tredescan , Hocus Pocus . Jugglers , Gypsies and Trepanners , With neither Honesty nor Manners ; Every Son or Mothers Daughter , Of Rogues and Rascals follow after . At the Black Rock , the Northern Pole , We fish for huge Whales and Cajole . All the white Greenland Bears , To fall together by the ears . There 's a sad rout ; we leave them for meat For Fins and Laplanders to eat . We meet and welcom at a day , All the Monsters of Africa . We whisper in a Rain-Deers ear , And read a Lecture to a Steer ; Then up we get upon their Bums , Soaring i' the Air and knitting Thrums : Many a deadly stitch we fetch , In Nets and Noozes Men to catch . Oh 't is brave Sport , the trade we drive , To kill all the Bees in a Hive . We gather all the poys'nous Grass , That grows upon the Hills of Brass ; In Springs and Lakes , and Rivers sides , At Low Water and Spring Tides ; In Woods and Grotto's , Sands and Rocks , We scratch our Rumps and tear our Smocks To find out deadly Drugs and Simples , For the Plague , Poxes or Pimples . These we distil , and temper wisely , And give Doses at hours precisely ; Under such or such a Star , Or Aspects for Peace or War ; Kind or Malignant , Quartiles , Trines , Either for good or bad Designs . The Face of Heaven is fair or foul , According as we smile or scowl . The Twelve Houses by us are haunted , The whole World by them 's enchanted ; Ascendents , Lords and Ladies of the Hour , All influenced by our Power . In Zeniths , Azimuths , and Nadirs , In Almacantars we are Traders ; We square the Circle , double the Cube , Find the Degrees of Longitude . The Ptolomaick and Copernick Spheres , Set ' Stronomers together by the ears . Pixes , Plots , Charts , Globes and Maps , Give Demonstrations by haps ; So do Galilean Glasses , Quadrants , Loxodromi for some Vagrants ; Schemes , Horolgies , Horoscopes , Astrolabes and Telescopes . In Laboratories zealous Fire , The Chymists Limbicks we inspire , To firk up Salts , fix'd or volatil , Spirits of Silver , Gold and Steel , Sulphur and Mercury dance in a wheel ; Egyptian Mummies , and the Moss Of Dead-mens Skulls purged from Dross ; Elixars , Quintescential Draughts , Raising Sallets , and such like Crafts . Fusil Marble , Glass malleable , Aurum Potable and Friable ; The Rare Inventions that are lost , We recover without cost . Otacousticon's Screws and Springs ; Automaton's Self-moving Gins : The Oil of Everlasting Lamps , The Art of killing , killing Damps . Flowers of Ashes , many Feats Of Dry and Moist , of Colds and Heats ; Jumbling blind Nature too and fro , And Metamorphosing her too . Come before her and behind her , You shall not know where to find her . Her Secretaries and her Masters , Turning and winding her in all Disasters . Panpharmacon 's Elixar vitae , Extractions high and mighty ; Hunt Nature out of her Bow'r , By Calcining every hour : Ferret her out of sculking places , Vertumnus like , changing her Faces : In all things striving to out-do her , Yet for all this th' are glad to woe her . Changing her shapes , and in a Reek , Making her play Hide and Seek ; Into prime Atoms her reducing , By Separating and Infusing : Putting her into Fainting-Fits ; And scaring her out of her Wits , Till the Artist be left i' th' lurch , With neither Wit , nor Mony in his Purse . Archimedes , forsooth , lackt a Base , ( Be it spoke to his disgrace , ) On which if he had stood , he would Have turn'd the Globe round , if he could . Prometheus stole a spark of Fire , To put Life into Dirt and Mire . These are all lamentable Shirks , Compar'd with our Monster-inchanting-Works . The Sybils Leaves , Mercurius Wand , Jove's Thunder-bolts we can command . The Staining and the Nealing Glass , Spiriting all that ever was . The size for gilding Balls like Flames , And other Secrets without Names : In Earnest , what was thought a Jest , White Powder , and the Phoenix Nest ; Fine Washings , hot Perfumes and Varnish , Imbroyd'ring , and Inlaying Garnish . The Scarlet Fish , and Gyges Ring , And every Invisible thing . When Spirits fall together by the Ears , To lay them by the Musick of the Sphears ; To walk about Incognito , To set a work Robbin good Fellow ; To make Fortunatus Cap Of Maintenance , and all good Hap. To Conjure Spirits under-ground , To find things , that could ne're be found ; To renew Age , and call back Years , To free men from all Cares and Fears ; To charm the Moon , and stop the Sun , To awaken Endymion . Charm Cerberus , stop Charon's Throat , Drown him in Styx , and sink his Boat . We cut the Bottom of the Streights , Into the Red Sea , spight of Fates ; It could ne're be done before , The Sea threatned to drown the Shore : For India thence we dare set out , Cape-bon-Speranza is about . Frobisher , Anian , Davis North-east-Way , From Nova Zembla to China . Speak but a word to a Stake , A lusty Fellow it shall make ; To bake your Bread , or brew your Beer , To roast and sawce all your good Cheer : Cook all your Pasties , Pies and Tarts , March-pains , and the sweetning Arts ; Hogo's , Fricacies , and Oleo's , Gusto's of all sorts , Quarto's and Folio's . Distill Spirits , raise Perfumes , For Persian or Arabian Rooms . He 'l make you Fires , cut Wood , draw Water , Do all the Butchery and Slaughter : Hunt , Hawk , Dig and Delve in Mines , Cut Quarries , Grub-up Roots of Pines ; Drive Wagons , Plow , Rowl , Sow , or Harrow , Dung or Marl Land with Court or Barrow . Clyp , Coyn , Stamp Brass , Cast false Rings , Glass Jewels , and Counterfeit Things . We can neatly Cog a Dye , Or cast a Mist before your Eye ; Poyson at an hour , day , or year , Whom you please , far or near : Draw a Rock down with a Twine , Or a Castle undermine . Stop a River , Drain the Ocean , Swallow Cities Bragadocian . One of us can keep a Town , Defeat an Army , Steal a Crown . Venetian Treasure we did Rob , 'T was a very pretty Job . Stop Breaches , Scale Walls , Choak a Gun , Shoot White Powder , make 'um run , Follow 'um , pull 'um down , never a done .

CANTO VIII . We live alone , like Amazons , Admit of Slaves to serve our turns ; No otherwise than as Stallions , Then turn them off , as poor Pigmalions . We can have Fiends to cool our Heats , Or fire us into lustful Feats ; Th' Infernal Gallants , fresh and fresh , Feast on Witches ranker Flesh ; And to enjoy our full Delights , We aim to be all Hermophrodites . The Shee Eagle's the Bird of Prey , Takes all the Care , bears all the Sway ; The Male's a Cuckold , a Slug , a Fop , Just like a Midwifes drunken Top ; Shee labours , and takes all the gains Fees the poor Lubbard for his pains . The right meaning is , we Witches Will have the Women wear the Breeches . Lack you an Old Doegna Devil , To be the Mistress of all Evil ; To help you to a fresh Whore , To make you rich , to make you poor ; To cure the Pox , or other Strains , The Flux , or Running of the Reins ; A Clap or so , Parboil or Stew , Till you come to another Hue. She Paints , she Patches , she makes Issues ; But you must cloth her in Gold and Tissues . She picks your Pocket , Commands all In Kitchin , Parlour , Chamber , Hall . If a By-blow comes , she is to hide it , The Dam must marry , simper , Bride it ; Put the Bastard out to Nurse , Or strangle it , 't is ne're the worse : But preventing Physick's best , Poyson the Egg in the Nest . A Cup of Love is a Ladies Lure , Be she never so demure ; That will fetch her when nothing can , She 'l quickly learn to know a Man . Let her try ; she never meant it , But she had a good intent in 't : She thought she could , and she could indeed , Alas , poor Soul , it was but need . But more than all this , 't is truly said , She could ne're remember she was a Maid . She shall take Bribes of every Lover , That in and about the House do hover ; Save them from fidling in a cold Tide , Bring them to their Mistress Bed-side : Convey a Letter from a Sinner In Napkin , as she sits at Dinner ; Speak a good Word to Lady or Master , To make the Match go on the faster . Now what is more that you can think on , Give us Paper , Pen and Inkhorn ; We 'l write down all you would have done , To the Sive and Sheers , and clouted Shun . We 'l play at small game , marry come out , Any thing , rather than give out . We study mischief , and you too , And let us alone to do . We clamber to the roaring Bear , And to the dreadful Dragon near : The Barking Dog ▪ Star makes us mad , The warbling Lyra makes us glad ; Taurus butts us with his Horn , Orion passes by in scorn ; The Swan sings dying Notes that please us , The Ramping Lion would disease us . We put on Berenices Hair , And sit in Cassiopeias Chair ; By the great Star that there appear'd , All the Astronomers were jeer'd . The Constellations flame about us , But can neither hurt nor rout us . To us the Stars do all appear , Within the Southern Hemisphere . Thus about , about we roll , From th' Artick to the Antartick Pole . All the Gods and Goddesses , to see to , At best could never do as we do . Mercury , a Common Carrier , Pallas , a weak Woman Warrier , Apollo , is but a Farrier ; Mars , a kind of Reformado , Vulcan , a meer Bravado ; Bacchus , a reeling drunken Sot , Could never get out of a Pot. Neptune , Thetis , Nymphs and Tritons , A Company of Slight ones ; What could they do , but catch Fishes , And serve them up in Cockle-Dishes ; In Sowce and Brine , and Pickle swimming , Rugged as Bears for want of trimming : Broken Wrecks are their best goods , Keep Court in state upon the Floods . Cupid goes about a shooting , After whining Lovers hooting ; Lazy Venus lies a Bed , Cuckolds Vulcans horned Head ; Hercules Wields a knot of Wood , 'T is likely that should do much good ; A Lions Skin forsooth he wears , Some silly Beasts and Cowards scares ; Kills a few Ox or Sheep , and knocks down Some pitiful Squire or Country-Cockscomb . Polyphemus has but one Eye , Argus an hundred , a great Spy ; Hydra's multiplied Heads Could never sleep quiet in their Beds ; Juno had but a little Envy in her , None of her Trulls was such a Sinner As the meanest Witch , good for no more Than to watch a Country-Whore . We tempt Ladies , to steal to bed To Grooms and Thrashers , to be sped ; Hogen Mogens nurst at Poor-folks Fires , May have Varlets and Pages for their Sires . From the Stage to the Dairy , So to the Kitchin ; take all that 's Aery . Or any ugly dirty Trulls Better than Wives , for such base Gulls .

CANTO IX . We mak 't our business to distract Mankind , in Societies compact ; Kings , Consuls , Tribunes could not p●e●se 'um , Triumvirs nor Decemvirs ease 'um ; Dictators , Caesars must Rule at large , Make People Slaves at their own Charge . This is the way to have all lost , When all strive to be uppermost . The better to work a fatal Chang● , Our Emissaries about do range . Bards , Druids , Brackmans , Augurs , Flamens , Aegypt , Chaldee , and Romes Amens ; Fit Instruments for us to work Ruine , to Christian , Jew or Turk . A brave employment 't is to Ride Princes , and all the World divide . The Maid of Orleans and of Kent We set up , for no good intent . There are other Names and Factions , By whom we make most rare Distractions ; In●oads , Incursions and Invasions , We lye Perdue on all Occasions ; For Destruction to all places , And carry it out with stately Gr●ces . Commons separate from Nobles , Causes of mutual Troubles . The Servile War , when Slaves rebel , Rings out a State or Kingdoms Knell . Liberty and Prerogative Out-stretcht , make neither Party thrive , Suspicions , Jealousies and Fears , Sets all together by the Ears . Hannibal knocks at Romes Gates , But turns back in spight of Fates . Scipio hasts , Fabius delays , Both their poor Country betrays . Pompey aspires to Rule alone ; But Caesar will be Caesar , or none . Not endure the Name of King ; An Emperour is every Thing . Ephori Tribunes , Overseers , Prove th' Plagues of Kings and Peers . Down , down with Pen and Inkhorn Men , And , Hey Boys up go we then . Thirty Tyrants at a time , In Government make a rare Chime . Devils , they say , may soon be rais'd ; But when up , not so soon laid . Richlieus , Cromwells , Mazarines , Lamberts ; false to King and Queens : The Principles of Machiavel , And the Leviathan , sprung from Hell . Infus'd by us , upon their Beds , Into their dull Loggerheads . But that for us , th 'had ne're transacted The Rogueries by them compacted . The Scotch and Punick Faith agree , Believe nothing , but what you see ; St. Omers and Geneva Breed , The Dort and the Tridentine Creed : The Dutch are Slugs , 't is but Civility To believe Impossibility . We 'l warrant all our words must stand , They do but execute our Command . Do try us , put all upon our score , We 'l teach you ne're to b'honest more . Would you be sure , trust to your Gammars , The Devils are but Niny-hammers . I 'le warrant you , we 'l do your business rarely , But so , as it shall ne're be done fairly . Be true and just says the Puling Fool , Pack him away to the Jesuits School . Go , starve ye lazy honest Dogs , And keep company with Hogs ; For ye are not fit for Men , come out , What does an Honest man among the Rout ? Kick him off the Bench , throw him or'e the Ba What should Honesty do there ? The Pulpit will scarce hold him , it leans awry , He 'l tumble down presently . Squat him into a Presbyterian Chair , 'T will never hold him full nor fair . Let him have a Confessor's Ear , He shall come no more there . Where shall this Honest man become ? Can the World afford him no room ? H● may strike in among the Indian Slaves , Though poor , yet they hate Knaves . They refus'd Swearings , as they of Greece , But they 'd be true and keep the Peace . To Alexander they were just , Not Swear and Forswear , as Greeks must . Remember Interest , worship that Numen , Ye cannot live , if ye be True Men ; Viis & Modis , turn her and wind her , Right or wrong , you 'l be sure to find her . Court the Rabble , invent Plots , Raise Scruples , tye and unty Knots ; Garble the State , trip up the Crown , Set up the Cloak , pull th' Miter down , Private Cabals , Intrigues and Fetches , Create miserable Wretches . Plate Jewels , Bodkins , Thimbles , Rings , Maintain Armies against Kings . If all fail , Call in the Turk , Set us Witches and the Devils to work ; Fight with Tongues , Pens and Hands , Play at cross Purposes and Commands . Property and Levelling , Simpering and Revelling ; Petitions and Flattering Caresses , Abhorrences and false Addresses . These are Devices by us taught , The High-way to bring all to naught . Major-Generals , Decimators , Surveyors , Trustees , Cross-Undertakers ; Especially those famous Tryers , Church , State , King and Self-Denyors ; Commissaries , Patentees , Excise-Men , Informers , Publicans , Precise-Men . Darby-House , or Goldsmiths-Hall , Erected by us , Rascals all . Saints of all Sizes , Wet and Dry , You may believe me , I 'le tell you no Lye , Swear together to live and dye , And give one another the Go by . Send them all for Expedition , To the Rota or Inqui●ition . Roman , Geneva Bulls or Bears Fall together by the Ears . Covenants , Associations , Real Lines of Communications : All these make a Charming noise To bewitch Fools ; the Cause , the Cause , The good Old Cause , the Golden Cause ! And Hey , then up go we brave Boys .

CANTO X. The bloody Hypocrite Cruzado , The Mendoza Rhodomontado ; The Fox , Ape , Crocodile Hyaena , The Nobody-knows , what ye mean-a . The Musical Snake hisses and rattles , The proud Hen lays her Eggs and Cackles ; The fawning Ape kisses , and hugs Her Whelps to death , the Bears lick up her Pugs . The Drunken Sow with a Wanion , I know no better Pot-Companion ; The Hector Goaring-Bull and Butting-Ram , The Lustful Goat fills up his Dam : The Peacock , swollen with Pride , Would very fain her black Legs hide ; The Swan the like , when she should cry , Shee chooses rather to sing and dye . who 'd think 't the Famous Allegator , Sure he is some Sea-Arbitrator . The Sword-Fish , that nimble Thrasher , The Whale-with's Tail shall cut and slash her ; The Shee-Bear , the Wolf-Child-chopper , The Cow licks up the poor Grass-hopper ; The Cormorant scowrs the Ponds , the Stork turns down All the Offal in the Town . But , oh , the Spark-Eye , the Bewitching-Face , The Rosy-Lips kill with a Grace ! The Clapper-Clag , and Silver-Twang , Leads away many a Simple-Gang , Like Pitchers by the ears a Roguing , By Flattering , Lying , and Cologuing ; 'T is a Brave Instrument of Evil , We use it better than the Devil . If there be any good ones , 't is so much the worse , I have'um all under my Curse : Widows , Strangers , Fatherless , I trample down in their Distress . Let me alone , I 'le fright 'um , fear 'um , Swinge 'um , rack 'um , cramp 'um , fear 'um ; Wou'd I were their Nurse , I 'de feed'um , cram 'um , Whip 'um , hang'um , ram 'um , dam 'um ; Villains all ; am not , I their Grannum . Harpies , Furies , are Lictors To us Magistrates and Victors . At his Horns Vulcan takes a Pet , Holds Mars and Venus in his Net : Scavinger - Hercules , the Kennel-Raker , The He-Ranter and She-Quaker . Hang them up all together , To feed Crows in wind and weather . Methinks I wallow all in Lakes Of Frogs and Toads , Vipers and Snakes ; It is a pleasure t' have such Mates , And to over-rule the Fates . What can the Devils do more ; if need , Or can they do so much indeed ? I am sure we dare defy'um , And in all Points all times out-vy 'um . This is the Trade of old w' have driven , And shall , as long as we be liven ; But we must dye , and post away To Hell , for ever and a day . But to make sure , before we go , We will have all the World to know , That they shall be in Hell , before Ever we mean to give o're . And when there 's no more left to kill , W' have done enough , we have our fill . Now Devils quake , We come , we come , Have at you Sirs , make room , make room . Compound with us , or else w' have swore , Henceforth ye shall be Devils no more . We must Rule all , or set you such a Spell As shall turn you all out of Hell . I have but one poor Case to put , ( You 'l say , I am an arrant Slut ) The Devils could ne're come to 't , Much less offer to set it a foot . Suppose those Fiends all in a Nest , Should crow'd into one Poor man possest . They 'l make him roar , you 'l say , and yell , As if he were tortur'd in Hell . And what then ? he raves , lays about him , flies To Caves and Desarts , howls and dies . A poor Business ! in a kind of sport and play , To kill all that lies in 's way . But what think ye , if less hurt is done in Hell , by far , Than Witches do in Peace or War ? For ev'ry one now 's a Fool or Madman , Be 't so , but still every one 's a Badman . This is something ; No quiet when all are Itch'd , All are undone , all are Bewitch'd ! Families , Cities , Kingdoms reel , The World dances upon a Wheel : Courts , Cities , Countries , Cloysters , Camps , Colledges , Schools , all are upon the Rants ; All Statesmen , Teachers , Captains , Lords , No believing Deeds nor Words . I know not what to say more , under th' Sun , We all undo , and are all undone . All 's Bedlam ! all have their Figary-fits ; Shake hands ; there 's none of us in his right Wits ? To speak Truth , 't is neither better nor worse , And I am glad on 't , all 's a Curse ! I 've spent my Breath , I 've spent my Gall , And yet this is not All. I draw the Curtain , conceive the Rest ▪ For I can paint no farth●r , bad 's the Best , When there can be no more expr●st .

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY . The Second Part.

By R. D.

LONDON , Printed in the Year , 1683.

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY , &c.

Prologue . FAir Ladies 't is past time of Woing , More Work 's cut out , up and be doing ; Censure severely all Male-contents , Inflict Impartial Punishments ; Spare none that shall deserve your Ire , Though you set all the World a Fire . Hanging and Burning , you know the worst , To be counted of all Accurst . Bussle through all Orders , Run the Rounds , And scorn the Military Frowns : Venture at any Thing that 's Evil , Be bold , and fear not Man nor Devil .

THE WITCHES . CANTO I. THe Noble Clergy , we Revere 'um ▪ Hate 'um , and dare not come near 'um . They exercise us all away , But the Base Clergy us obey . We 're welcom to the Parlour and Conclave , Some Clergy their Familars have : But we love them ever after , As the Devil loves Holy-Water . Statesmen and Judges often use us , State-Presbyterians ne're refuse us . With Jesuits we 're well acquainted , Help Monks and Friars to be Sainted . At Junto's and Caballs , 't is Rare To Plead , and to have the Chair . At close-Committee Adjutators , Who but we are Moderators ? Some burn us , Swim us , and Scratch us ; But the Devil can ne're out-match us . They put us to Interrogatives ; But we plead our Prerogatives , Behind the Curtain , to great Sages , For Whispering we get good Wages . 'T is worth the while to Course with Bitches ; But more to hunt with Blood-hound Witches . Plots and Contrivances are by our means , So Statesmen bring about their Ends. When all Shifts fail , nimble and neat , A Cunning-Man must do the Feat , The Artists please to jeer and flout us , Can as well be hang'd as be without us . We take the Politicians Pay , And by our Help they get the Day . In Ships , Shops , Schools , in Camp and Court , Every hour we make brave Sport . Philosophers are pleas'd to jeer us , Though for Skill they could ne're come near us . What Family , Kingdom or State Do we not steer and regulate ? From the Peasant to the Clerk , Like Mad-Dogs we Bite and Bark . In all Rogueries we have a hand To Lye , Bribe , Conquer and Command . The World 's infatuated by us , What we lack none dare deny us . We govern the rebellious Rout , And turn the lawful Rulers out . By the means of Rogues and Whores , Thrust all Honesty out of Do●rs . We bewitch all the World , we turn All things into Confusion . None are follow'd , or ador'd like us , They dare as well be hang'd as strike us . From Forty to Sixty our Fair hath lasted , And we hope 't will ne're be blasted . Then we revell'd in open Round ; Still we work closely Under-ground . Then we were old Hags and Jades ; But now we are young dainty Blades : You 'd little think how we strut it , In Scarlets , how we drink and glut it . Fast , Preach , Pray , Plead and Fight , With Dark-Lanthorns play least in Sight . States Ecclesiastick , Warlike , Civil , Can ne're be without Witch or Devil . You cannot tell who to trust , Be cheated , or cheat you must . Yet w' have the bravest Tongues and Faces , That e're adorn'd the mighty Graces . None have out-done us i' th' Black-Art , The World 's our Stage to act our Part. Rare Sciences , of fast and loose , laugh and cry , Kiss and betray , live and dye . Any thing , Nothing , what you wish You shall meet with in your Dish . Cheat , and be cheated , rise and fall , Get and lose , play the Devil and all . A Golden Tongue , a Syren Song , The Noble and the Rascal Throng . A mad Age , and a sad Age , high and low , You shall know neither Friend nor Foe . You shall not trust your self , I 'le say it , You can neither stop nor stay it . Up and down , White and Black , Out and In , Smite the Rib and chuck the Chin : Dissemble , threaten all you can , Trust neither Devil nor Man . Unheard of Rogues , a Devil take 'um , They were as bad , as bad could make 'um . At home , or abroad , to and fro , Up and down , about we go . Climb a Ladder , stand or reel , Lye down , or dance upon a Wheel . All mad , in Dumps , or merry Mood , Seeming Angels , never good . Hell 's an Ass to th' World , as 't is now , You can't know a Horse from a Cow . Saints are Rogues , and Rogues are Saints ; All Commendations , or all Complaints . Never better , never worser Trading , All things are growing , and all things are fading . Every one 's a Wit , or a Sot ; For , or against some Plot : Disoblige all , or else Fee 'um , But trust to your self where e're you see 'um . Never softer , never harder Times , Never Fortune rang more Chimes : Never more nimble Turns and Ranges , The Bells play all variety of Changes .

CANTO II. An Ignorant , a Gentile Rook , A dull Plodder on the Book ; A Wheel-Barrow , or Plow-Driver , A Statesman , or a Plot-Contriver : Clad in Steel , or Soft Gown , A Gentleman , or a Clown : Higgltee , Piggltee , Altamall , Madmen , Fools or Knaves all . Could ever Devils be such Brisco's As Witches are , to run such Risco's ? We 'l vye with Woden , or Old Tuisco , For nappy Ale , or Beverisco . Gauls and Teutons , Fops and Sots , Broken Heads or broken Pots . Cassandra takes on sadly , roars and raves , Calls us a Company of Knaves , Children and Fools , and Madmen too ; Commonly they speak most true . O , what a Chaos , what a Hell For Twenty years , no Tongue can tell ? Jealousies and Fears , those dismal Notes , Brought us all to Cutting a Throats . Kings-Lands , Church-Lands , all went down , Wide Throats swallow'd Mitre and Crown . The men in Steel got all the Gold , And all the Power , if it would hold . We undermin'd Churches and States , As most pleasing to such Fates . And to support those Arched-Cellars , We were the Massy Cater-Pillars . 'T was a rare time for our Profession , But to kill and take possession : Up and ride , hang and damn at every Jirk , We lov'd ever to make quick work : All headlong to Destruction run , We hop'd those Days would ne're a done : But the Blood stopt in an unlucky hour , 'T is a sign , 't was not all in our Power . All this our Practise did afford , Plagues and Famines , Fire and Sword . All the basest and vilest Things , We had contest with Priests and Kings : And to make the Sport the neater , The Lesser still devour'd the Greater . I believe neither Devil nor Witch E're strain'd their Wits to a higher pitch . Drums and Trumpets roaring and thundring , Sequestring , Decimating , Plundring : We were not idle all that Day , When Rebels fought , we ran away : Judge Advocates , an Invention new , Hung up many a good Man and true . I think we did bestir our Stumps , 'Till we rak't our very Rumps . Incest , Adultery , Fornication , All that could debauch a Nation . Thieves , Lyars , Murd'rers , Juglers , Fencers , Disputing Dunces , Mooting Benchers ; Counterfeits , Falsificators , The Bane of Bondsmen and Testators : Jurors , Perjurors , Posting-Knights , A Thousand such Dissembling Wights . All other Villains are our Slaves ; But ah , our pleasure 's most in Knaves : Alsatia Knaves and Newgate Dogs , Universities of Toads and Frogs . Other Academicks are no better , That study Black-Art by the Letter : For all their Hebrew , Latin , Greek , A Thousand things they are to seek . Delegates , Commissaries , Proctors , Masters , and Salamanca Doctors . Faculties , Synods ; Convocations , Alas , they do but cheat the Nations . Their Socrate's and Aristotles , Are good for nothing , but stop Bottles . Grave Beards , Caps , Tippets , Hoods and Gowns , To be admir'd by Country-Clowns . We turn and wind Seneca or Cato , Varro , Theophrastus , Plato . We 'l give Diogenes a Rub , And tumble him out of his Tub. Aristippus pleases us best , 'Cause he makes Fools of all the rest : He often Dines with us , and Sups ; A good Fellow , takes off his Cups . Fetch me from the Hill Aventinus , Stifler , Jacob Behem , and Varinus . Facil Wits will part with their Lands , At cross Purposes and Commands . Kings Professor Igno-Ramus Came into the Schools by a Mandamus : Like a Madman he took his Hits , To cut every thing into two Bits . From Monsieur Cartez and Gassendus , And such like Pluto defend us . Ptolomy was a Figure-Flinger , Blind Homer a Ballad-Singer . Plautus a meer Jingler , Terence a pure Pingler . Others are sullen , dogged Sots , The Deipnosophist best loves his Pots . Jove and Bacchus are good Fellows , Vulcan's troubled with the Yallows . Mars and Venus , Rogue and Whore , 'T is Priapus we most adore . Lucian jeers 'um all for Topers , Petty-Foggers and Interlopers .

CANTO III. Statesmen count it a great Intrigue To get us into their League : For we break Faith on all occasions , By open or close Evasions . Algier , Tunis observe our Rules , The Grand Turk works by our Tools ; And all that do not so are Fools . What think ye , were we made for Joyn'd-Stools ? Great Armies , if Kings lack , we 'l feed 'um , And when they 'd have us , we can bleed 'um . We dive into the bosom of the Deeps , Diamonds , Pearls gather on Heaps . Clamber Rocks for Amber-Grees , And for all Rarities scum the Seas . The Physician trusts to his Drugs , But we dare take him by the Lugs : For all his Antidotes we 'l but Fart , And that shall poyson all his Art ; Our pretty Pugs put in their Noses In all his Pots , and spoil his Doses . He is the veriest Fool in Nature , To grasp with Giants of our Stature . Great Fools are flatter'd and fear'd by all ; But we no● fawn , nor fear at all . They 're glad to crouch and speak us fair , We cannot live by the Air. And we can find 'um out , O Rare ! We can slighly hit 'um , and put by Their deadly blows , and make 'um dye . If they fly us , we can catch 'um , Secretly , suddenly dispatch 'um . Whence had Lycurgus all his Laws ? We find in them Ten thousand Flaws . Solon was such another Fool , To us they should have come to School . Numa Pompilius had the Witch Nymph Aegeria by the Britch , She taught him Tales ; the Twelve-Tables Were but Greek and Latin Fables . Justinian , for his Pandects and Code , Burnt better Books , many a Cart-load : Trebonian his Plagiary ; he 's Curst , For leaving the best and taking the worst . Rescripts , Decrees , Pragmalicants , All his Works are Extravagants . Decrees , Decretals are of the same stamp , For want of Power they have the Cramp . To what purpose is all this Doing ? The Wisest come to us a Woing : And we have taught them without Law , How to keep the World in Awe ; To do all Business 'twixt Man and Man , Without a Bible or Alcoran : To make Scholars without Teaching ; To make Saints without Preaching . Here 's a Pudder among States ; Walls , Trenches , Castles , Bars and Gates , Navies , Armies , Pallisado's , Mines , Counter-Mines and Barracado's : Killing and Robbing , Fire and Sword , All is not worth a — We could save all this Charge , And govern the World at large : Without this or that Association , Without Lines of Communication . But oh , the fly Stoick and his Mate ; He condemns all by Fate . We 're gone now , this is the last Trick , He hath just taken us in the Nick. He thinks we are now surrounded , And all our Witchcraft quite confouned . It must be , as it must be , a Close Bar , We cannot stir to make nor marr . Now we 're defunct , troubled with the Gripes , 'T is high time to put up our Pipes . Well , if we should be so Confin'd , Yet we may be still Combin'd , And to all Mischief most inclin'd . Still all may say , 'T was well meant , Though we could not perform our Intent . We 'l be as wicked still as ever , And never mend , O never , never . You that are of our side , stand fast in spight , The Fates shall not cut us out quite . But what if we 're the Fates our selves ? ( For surely they be all such Elves . ) We 're acknowledged by All , For Oracles Fatidical . Then All 's our own still , All to have , and do our Will. All the Rogues that ever pist , Shall never do what they list . Then rowze up one more , ye Jolly Dames , Never lose your glorious Names . Still we are uppermost , and will be so In spight of Fates , where e're we go . We 're in our Kingdom still , and I am told it By the best Fates , we 're like to hold it . The World could never be without us , Nor never shall , ye need not doubt us . Get you about your Business , Jades , And never fear those Sullen Blades ; Do all the Baseness you are able , And fear not the Council Table . Bear up briskly Ladies fair , Upon me be all your Care : You 'l ne're want Favourites , my Word is past , As long as Malice or Revenge shall last . Why , we are very pretty Creatures , Want not for Colours , nor yet for Features ; But for Conditions to be sure , None are morefierce , none more demure . We 'l dazle ye with glorious Beams , And poyson ye with deadly Steams .

CANTO IV. I know not what Pen's able to describe The strange Whimsies of every Tribe . Such Fegaries as mar or make it , He must be mad that will undertake it ; Nay , he must have his Turns and Fits , And be clean out of his Wits : Stark-staring-mad must be those Men , That dare handle such a Pen ; And yet must have their Wits about 'um , For fear Discerning Powers should Rout 'um . Describe Hell , 't is nothing in a Rage , None but a Witch can paint this Age. Throw away the Pencil , and perchance That Dash may give it a full glance . Draw , draw the Curtain then for shame , Hit or miss , win or lose the Game . Nothing venture , nothing have ; Nothing challenge , nothing crave . All are Conumdrums or Conjectrums , That are said or done by Spectrums . In a good Mood or frantick Ire , Inspir'd with Water , Wine or Fire ; What a Fanatick kind of Muse Must the poor Poet take or choose ? Sure he must be Bewitcht , or a Witch , That shall hit this lofty Pitch . Michael Angelo , I dare say , Could not so to the life Old Nick pourtray . If Muses or the Furies joyn ; If Apollo's Self combine . Bacchus or Pluto , sober or drunk ; Pallas or Venus , chaste or punk : All these can never hit the strain Of cursed Humors , in each Vein . He must be any thing that Endites , He must be every thing that Writes . He must be Knave and Honest man , Wise and Fool , write that write can . Find me out such an one from Heel to Chin , To Fiends and Witches of kitt or kin : And he may perhaps in every Page , Perstring the Monsters of this Age : Whose well-brew'd-Brains are perfect Stingo , At nests of Vice to have a Flingo . To know with a Sublimi Flagello , How to scourge a good Fellow . Now loung and sneak ye barking Curs , You that of late have made damn'd stirs : Hang your Tails between your Legs , That have hatcht Cockatrice Eggs. For shame hide your ill-favour'd Snouts , That have made such Riot-Routs : Get ye all packing to the Deep , For making many a brave Man sleep . The World 's weary of your Tricks , In vain to kick against the Pricks . When Witches fall and Villains fail , You shall no longer then joyn Tail : The Honest man may grow in fashion , Perhaps , in the next Generation . I shall turn Saint by and by , if I han't a care , Or Devil rather , never fear . 'T was but a flash , a foolish Itch , Did y' ever know a Renegado Witch ? A Saint by all means , a Saint forsooth ; But such an one as ne're spoke Truth . Truly I like Old Homer well , That curst all Lyars to the pit of Hell . All do so like Saints appear , We know not who 's a Devil here ; Yet we perceive , as we come nigh 'um , And find them Devils when we try 'um . In no place on Earth is Safety found , There 's most Hell above-ground . In Hell ther 's no tugging and tearing , No such Damming and Forswearing . Here we quarrel and divide , Here we one another Ride : Devils hang in wind and weather ; But they all keep close together . I wonder in the higher Region , If there be Worlds in Moon or Sun : And what they do , if they agree , Or steal , or fight so much as we . There are Desking , Pimping Foundrels , Law Driving , overthrowing Scoundrels . In Law , Honesty exact is ; But there 's Witchcraft in the Practise . Judges sit high , far off , few can hear 'um , Practisers Bar from coming neer 'um . Demosthenes had a rich Finanza , Which muffel'd him for the Squinanza . Gold is a Vent-hole and a Bung , Makes speak , and makes hold the Tongue , Stops Fosset , and makes it run . But we are Widows all and Maids , Chamber-Practises are our Trades .

CANTO V. Come let 's muster up good Fellows , Of whose great Wits we have been Jealous : Our Policy to keep them under , Is by keeping them asunder . Shrewd Lads , I 'le assure you , to keep them too , We had very much ado : But we have brought them to our Bow Very well , as the World doth know . Mahomet , Machiavel , march in the Van , With Bajazet and Tamberlan ; Piccolomini , Bethlem-Gabor , Screwd themselves into our Favour ; Duke d' Alva , Parma , Don Diego , Don Quixot and Don Quivedo ; Gondomar and Count Olivarez , Consulted often with the Fairies . Mufti 's Musselmans in Green , De Wit , Richilieu and Mazarine ; Spinola , Medina , Don Hurtada , Commanders of the Spanish Armada ; Americus , Columbus , Cortez , Cut their way with Aqua-fortis ; Oliver and Massanello , Where can you find their Fellow ? There 's a pack of Rascals more , With Bradshaw , stand behind the Door ▪ There let 'um stand , keep 'um out Among the Rascal-Rebel-Rout . Enter the fine Wits , Lombard , Scotus , Suarez , Occam , these promote us : Paracelsus had a reaching Brain , Helmont , Jacob Behem , a stately Strain . Peter Monk , Tiresia Nun , To reckon all , I should ne're have done . All these , and many more , Our Pupils in the days of Yore : All Ages , in their Paroxism Fits , Will produce the like mad Wits . These help us in our Fits of Scurvy , To turn the World clean Top●ie-turvy : Then send 'um all packing to Hell , They shall not bear away the Bell. Caesar Borgia , Barbarossa , Heapt Pelion upon Ossa ; Alaric , Attila , Narses , Marius , Scipio , Cataline , Bellizarius ; Gracchus , Hannibal , Gustavus , Attempted often to out-brave us : They had of our Pride such a Leaven , To ruine Earth , and threaten Heaven ; But we took 'um by the Crown , Pelted 'um , and pull'd 'um down . We read of Pen-Dragon and Sforza , Vortimer , Hengist and Horsa ; Brave Prince Arthur in the Fable , With all his Knights of the Round-Table : Cadwallader too , for his Inches As good as Iron sides , or the Black Princes . What think ye of the Leyden Taylor , David George , Hacket , Nailor , Melchior Hoffmannus , Knipper-Dolling ? Upon Spires their Tongues hang lolling ; Jack Straw , Tiler , gone a Catter-waulling . Here 's a Ribble-rabble indeed , Of Pigmies , send 'um to the Cranes to feed . These are the Bag and Baggage of the Gang , Fit for nothing but to Hang. Jack-anapes , Dandi-prats , Punchianello's , Send 'um to blow Vulcan's Bellows . The last Invention against us , Was to out-Witch us , and out-Saint us . By these ways , to our shame be 't spoke , They hew'd down the Royal-Oak ! The Comfort is , there 's none Relented , Nor one of them the least Repented : They thought to have the World in a String , But we gave them all a Fling ; So we tr●pand 'um and mumpt 'um , 'Till we quite and clean crampt and crumpt 'um Now we are quiet , Lord it alone , Our greatest Enemies are gone . Worship us all ye Idol-makers , H●lls Factors , Brokers , Undertakers . Beelzebub's Flies swarm and buz about us , These Venom Hornets threaten to rout us ; But we 'l fire 'um out of their Holes , I tell you we cannot carry Coals . I 'le warrant you we 'l keep our Stations , And stand our ground against all Nations . We are so high-flown and pufft , We scorn to be baffled or hufft . Judges and Generals Stings are gone , They scare none , but Cowards of the Throng : Undaunted we bear up 'gainst all That themselves , Kings or Princes call .

CANTO VI. And now we cannot but declare , How ill by wicked Priests we fare . W' have been more plagu'd with Clergy Elves , Than with all the Devils themselves . Take a Knave-Black Coat , find him work With the Devil or the Turk ; Reward him richly , brisk and neat , I 'le warrant him he does the Feat . The Clergy have a Trick in Common Play , To undo all that stand in their way : They do us the most Service in these Cases , For commonly they have the most brazen Faces , And they most influence the Populaces . Send Lawyers to 'um , to solace 'um , If the Devils should out-face 'um ; And when th' have done their work , disgrace 'um . A Parson shall hamper y' in ten thousand Nooks , Which a dull Devil over-looks ; He 'l tye you knots , and put you Cases , With Labyrinths and Interlaces , 'Till he scare y'out of your Senses , And baffle all your Self-Defences . Say what you can , you shall be sham'd , Do what you can , you shall be damn'd . These be rare Men , we 're like to thrive , While they us to the Devil drive : Nay , they 'l drive the Devil , and take his place ; We 're like to prove an excellent Race : As long as you hearken to this Brood , I 'le warrant you , for ever being Good . These are the Men , when all comes to all , Can Evil Good , Good Evil call . These take their Measures from our Rules , And make all the World Fools . If they will be rul'd by them , they may , 'Till at last they take all away . Then leave us naked , not come near us , At a distance laugh and jeer us . The World 's come to a brave pass , A Man may see himself made an Ass . Go on still , if you please , my Hearts , Act all the Fools and Beggars Parts : As for the Knaves part , 't is our due , Fit we should be Knaves as well as you : But and if you will be Priest-ridden , Poor Fools , do as you are bidden . They are most necessary Evils , That help us more than all the Devils . Martial , Persius , Catullus , Sappho , Tasso , and Tibullus ; Petronius , Ovid , are as Right As my Leg , to act or endite : Boccace , ingenious Boccaline , Are both good Friends of mine : This last , was by Spaniards bangd To death , with Bags of Sand. But , O , sweet Bishop Aretine , Thou writest all Love , in every Line ! O , we love the Clergy dearly , Of all , of Love they write most clearly ! What you men love most , we know it ; And truly you full often show it . You put sweet Cases , Single , Matrimonial , Better than Moral or Ceremonial . We know y' are good at Contemplation , Which invites to Procreation . We 're as willing as you can be , You may have all without a Fee . Some blame you for Man-Midwives-Notions , We say 't is good to help your Devotions . And we dare say , For every knack You are the best of all the Pack . You bring all upon their Knees , You take more than Lawyers Fees . Votaries Gold , and precious Stones , You take for Rags and Dead mens Bones . You out-wit all in sober sadness , You teach all the world Madness . Your Crowns , Miters , and Red Montero's , Fright the most Royal Cavalero's . Herostratus burnt Diana's shrine , 'Gainst your Priests , 't was a Plot of mine . You would out-do , and un-do us , And all that while you seem to wo us : But we 'l try a Veny with the best Of y' all , and a Fig for the rest . We fling off others , but you stick , Like Bugs that bite us to the quick . Take heed to meddle with this Nation , For they 're an angry Generation . They shall sooth y'up in a Trice , Lead ye into a Fools Paradise . Except you part with all , they have a Spell , Shall drag you into Purgatory-Hell . Then your Carkass shall fare the worse . For not opening your Purse . They 'l fry you to some tune in that Pan ; You 're fast , make all the Friends you can . We think we have both Wit and Malice , To reach from Dover to Callice : But take my Word , for one and all , 'T is they have given us many a Fall ; But we have risen agen , and at 'um , And much ado , at last have squat 'um . For whatsoever Tugs are past , We must be Conquerors at last . But 't is a Truth Olim & Heri , A Rack is Ratio ultima Cleri . I beg pardon for being smotty , Witches , you know , use to be slutty . From grand to petty Pranks I turn about , Play at small game rather than sit out . And now by this 't is time to give over , For I am Landed just at Dover . I 'le rest , for I have travel'd Yorkshire Miles , O're Hills and Dales , and Kentish Stiles . To work again we must , right Bred , Never to rest us , till we are dead . And we will never die , for you shall find us , A Litter of Whelps we leave behind us .

CANTO VII . Long Wars have stood us in great stead , Knockt all Obedience in the Head . Parents , Husbands , Tutors , Masters , May go look out for fresh Pastures . Magistrates may wear Fur-Gowns , Maces and Staffs , a scorn to Clown ; Cities are no more than Country Towns . Prentices are nimble , 't is but a Hop To the Field , from the Shop . Maid-Servants , when the Brimps takes 'um , Run to Husbands , that mars or makes 'um . Hired-Servants bargain wisely , From six to six , knock off precisely . A Justice of Peace engages , For Statute-Work , and Statute-Wages . If Clock strikes six , and Pig 's a Turning , I th' Devils name let it lie a Burning . If the Coach-man hear six Knocks , Let him skip out of his Box ; Though Lord and Lady have the Squirt , Leav'um in the Dark and Dirt. If the Butter be a Churning , Or the Cheese lacks Turning : If the Oven be half Hot , If it be time to scum the Pot : If Pyes or Tarts be half Bak't , If the Hearth be half Rak't : If the Kettle lacks a Cover , Or if the Porridge-Pot boyl over : If the Bread wants Yest , or Leavens , Leave 'um all at Sixes and Sevens . If the Close-stool lacks emptying , let it fall , In Parlour Closet Chamber for 'um all . When the Masters Tail itches , Let him do all in his Breeches : But if the Lady be in a heat , Excuse her till sh'have done the Feat . All Duty , all Respect is lost , When Boys and Girls must Rule the Rost . If the Lady be half Drest , Or Head half comb'd , let her do the Rest ; And if the fixed Time be sped , Let her have her self to Bed . Before Six , we 'l not ope our Eyes , Call and hang , we will not Rise . After Six , we 'l sit upon our Britch , Throw our work away , and not do a stitch . If we be beating of a Buck , And Beetle-up while the Clock struck , Away we throw it : If we be Spinning , And Six be come , for fear of Sinning Away goes Spool , away goes Reel , Away goes Rock , Distaff and Wheel . The Clock strikes , Fare ye well , Let the Bucket drop i' th' Well . Your Rich Daughters shall be Stol'n , Or stay at home , and be Swol'n : You may put 'um out to Dance , Or send your Sons over to France ; When they are weary of their Duns , Make 'um Friars , make 'um Nuns : Better than an Alsatia Gaol , Cloysters sure will never fail . Your Boys and Girls shall be Slapt . It is the Mode to be Spic'd and Clapt . Rotten Husbands , rotten Wives , Because they all lead Rotten Lives . The Hollander is very wise , With his Dutch-Devil-Excise . The Italian has his Gabels , Fools have their Bawbels and their Labels : All he wears , and all he swallows , Pays Taxes , for a Common-wealth that follows . For Dung monopoliz'd , Jack de la Cerda , Nam'd Florene , Duco de la Merda . The Fire-brand St. Domingo next , Converts Hereticks , according to the Text. In his Bowels Pity feels , That is , Racks , Gibbets , Wheels . Lords and Ladies are his Visitors , They call 'um , the Grand Inquisitors . You 'l say , There are no Ladies there On Benches , no Wenches must appear ; Yet we that have such lovely Faces , May lay in Ambush at all Places . What shall I say of Nat Sir Brent , Displayer of the Council of Trent ? 'T was I rid Post then , brisk and Rident , Constantly from Rome to Trident. It was but reason to ride Post , Should Guests reckon without their Host ? T was I was the Great Owl ‛ At Basil's Meeting that did Howl : I percht upon the Beam , that Day , Clubs could not scare , nor drive m'a way . One poor Madge did all Out-face 'um , I flew from Athens to Disgrace 'um . 'T was a pretty Job , when by all Votes , Women in one Night cut all the Danes Throats . Thus all that I can rap and rend Shall out , before I make an End .

CANTO VIII . Amboyna was a Tearing Bout , Rarely well we held it out . Irelands Butchery was great . Which , with its own , made England sweat . The Harp gave a deadly Twang , And we to that pleasant Musick sang . The Thistle scratcht to the quick Both Roses : It was Old Nick. The Cross was Blood-red indeed , The Lion Rampant did bleed . We made the Belgick Lion roar , While his Limbs were in pieces tore . Hungary is half devour'd , Muscovia and Poland sadly scour'd . Denmark was almost falling , France and Spain lay a sprawling . 'T was Moulting time , you may presume , When the Old Eagle cast his Plume . She hatcht too many Young ones to thrive , Had much ado to keep 'um alive : So Bees over-stock the Hive . Italy is the Pope's Darling , Her petty Princes are always snarling . Sweth-Land often is a nodding , Venice 'gainst the Turk is plodding . Hispaniola cried , Oh ; But Jamaica felt the Blow ; We aim'd at Pure Gold you know , In our Eye was Mexico . Of Hellebore they took a Cup , So the Gulf swallow'd them up . Who created all these Ires ? Who kindled all these Fires ? We , by the help of our good Friends , Have brought about these fatal Ends : And we are ready at the door , To do a Thousand times more . Thus every of us play'd the Whore , And never , never shall give ore . Shout , dance , sing , clap your hands , Y' are Conquerors of Seas and Lands . Honour and Profit you invites , To make the World your Proselytes . Who but you do all the Feats ? Who but you are the grand Cheats ? 'Gainst Truth arm great and small , That you may rise , while others fall . At India , a Spade's a Spade , We drove the English out of their Trade . We cheated them of Guiana Gold , ( The thing that tempts both young and old , ) Silken and Spicy Wares by Sea and Land , We made them Truck at second hand : And if under whom you 'd know , 'T was the Dutch Devils , I trow . These built them Cities , Towns and Forts , To beat us out of our Resorts . Batavia is their stately Mart , Where they rant it with Coach and Cart ; And of all Nations get the start , Value not Princes nor Kings a Fart . Of Old , the Indian Lads and Lasses Were cheated with Brass Rings and Glasses ; Puppets , old Iron , Bodkins , Pins , For Gold and Jewels , and Precious Things : But now they will not be such Asses , To be put off with Toys and Trashes ; For we have taught them at long running , A great deal more Wit and Cunning : Good Gold and Silver , Down with your Dust , For Silks and Spices pay you must . The Men of China are so Shy To keep us out , I don't know why : But if they 'd give us leave to dwell , For an Inch , we 'd take an Ell. Be sure to set them such a Spell , That after it they shall ne're do well . I wonder a Devils name what should all us , Till then our Wits did never fail us . To be reveng'd , we sent the Tartars , On a sudden to break up their Quarters . Now we have opened the Door , That barr'd them all up close before , They shall ne're be mew'd up more . A Company of sly Rogues and Whores , We shall pay them their old Scores . Away they go , away with them now , We have begun to drive the Plow . Have at them , to the purpose now , We 'l fat them up like Boar and Sow : Teach 'um to hide like Sow in Beans , For why should they get all the Means ? They have thriv'd hitherto too long , Turn them a grazing among the Throng , We 'l pay 'um off , Ding dong . I had forgot the Cannibal Cheaters , A Company of Man-Eaters ; We 'l provide them better Food , Than to eat Mans flesh and drink Mans blood . There are Banditi's and Tories , Of whom we have heard mad stories . If we get in among the Slaves , We shall fright 'um to their Graves . There are left a sort of Scepticks , That go about with their Protrepticks : Every where they all things watch , Aim at every thing , but nothing catch . The brave young Hobbist scorns and flies The Inns of Court , and Universities . He vilifies the Man in Black , Makes the poor Curate drunk with Sack . There 's neither good nor bad Fortune nor Fate , All is the Policy of State . It is the Humor of the Times , To be frighted at Bugbear Crimes . By his Principles he is bidden , Not to be Priest or Lawyer-ridden : But we can catch the idle Fop , And whip him like a Town-Top ; And if he have a costly Crop , Give the Drunken Buffoon a Sop. Dance him but a pleasant Jig , A Treat , a Banquet , and a Fig.

CANTO IX . Bear up for Bantam , Port Tailor , Is there any knowledge in a Sailor ? Main-sail , Top-sail , Sprit-sail , Mizn , Thou Rogue , I once redeem'd thee out of Prison . We need none of your Tackles , For we trudge o're the World in Shackles . Observe it , we have kept our station In all parts , since the Creation . I say then , Bear up for Bantam , And back agen for Steeple-Grantam ; Thence to the famous Strasburgh Towr , There 's a rare Clock , then keep your Hour ; And , as sure as a Club , Drink at Heydelburgh's great Tub. Haste away , get you to the Spaw To be Parboil'd , for ye are Raw. Take a Dram first , your hearts to chear , Of Brandy , Mum , or Spruce-Beer . Shoot the Gulf of Magellan , Or Gibraltar , thence to Tapobran ; Post away with Neck in Rope , To the Cape of good Hope : Madagascar is hard by , At St. Helens you may lye : Thence to Potosi and Chios , Panama , and Nombre de Dios. Fetch a compass to the Sluis , To Norway , and Ward-Huis : Back to Molucca , Ormus , Isle of Pines , To Japan and the Philippines . By virtue of a Cup of Stingo , Fly to St. Jago , and St. Dominga . Mexico and Malabar , All the Land under the South-Star . Cut the Line in all his Topicks , Tack about to all the Tropicks . Salute the Twelve Signs , though ye melt , That hang upon the Zodiack Belt . To Nile and Ganges send away , At Tanais , Volga , make no stay ; Euphrates , Danow , Nieper , Rhine , Loyr , Rhodan , Tamesis , and Tyne . About Ship , perhaps you may meet With the East-India , or Plate-Fleet . In a Frolick , a Bravado , Touch at St. Kitts , or Trinidado . Brasil , Peru , long to see your Faces , They are Silver and Golden Places . Make haste , for we intend to Ease us At Cymbric and Tauric Chersonesus . These Spaniards , how they Firk The poor Indians to work : In those Gold and Silver Veins , These poor Slaves take all the Pains . Waters , Fires , and poys'nous Damps Destroy 'um , besides Falls and Cramps . Mastiffs fright 'um out of Town Into Woods , and hunt 'um down . Lend me thy Slave to day , so Spaniards borrow , And I 'le lend thee my Slave to morrow . Alas , poor Atabalipa , Thy Life and Kingdom was took away ! Indeed and indeed , this was a deadly lift , Given by Pope to Charles the Fifth . Kings lack Removes ; Vassals , Slaves , Are thrust from Prisons to their Graves : But this poor King paid for his Ransom , I must needs say , It was not Handsom ; His Prison honestly with Gold he fill'd , And after that was basely kill'd . But I knew , when I was a Maid , A greater , better King betray'd . A Conquer'd King , in vile Disguise , To his false Scotish Subjects flyes ; And they , for a golden Inspection , Sell him to an Independent Section : They send him to a Gaol Protection , Then to a Deaths Scaffold's Erection ; A Presbyterian Projection , And a damn'd National Infection ! I 'le warrant 'um for this the worse , To lie under an Everlasting Curse . Are ye squat , Rowze up ye Rump-seuttle Whores , Ye lazy Hags turn out a doors ; For I must leady ' another Dance , From fair Albion into France : From the Island of Fairies , To Corvo's , Floro's , and Canaries . There 's good Liquor , make a stand , You must cross to Newfound-Land . Post from thence and cut the Line , And away for Abyssine . Prester-John's a Jolly King , they say , 'T will please him to see you dance the Hay . Speed , get you up by Noon , To the Mountains of the Moon . Find out the hoary Head of Nile , To Meroes Lake 't is but a Mile . Look out sharp , Bitches seek out , I 'm certain 't is thereabout . You 're now in Africa , ye Whores , Dance a Jig among the Moors : See what Monsters you can find Above what you are , in your kind . Over to Italy , make a stop , And call at Aetna , Vulcan's Shop . Ask what new's there , drink ye , smoak ye , All the Vapors of Hell choak ye . Then stay ye till I come , I 'le meet you at Naples and Rome . Upon Egypt ope your Lids , Skip up and down the Pyramids . Observe exactly your Commands , And get ye to the Lybian-Sands . Call in at Morocco and Fez , There you may stay and take your Ease . Hide , you 'l be took upon Suspition , At the Spanish Inquisition . For pity take some pains To save the Pygmies from the Cranes . If ye will deserve the Garter , ( I had almost said , the Halter , For my Speech began to falter ; ) Defend the Chinese from the Tartar . Once more secure 'um all By making up the Hole i' th' Wall . Go guard the Europe Caravans , 'Gainst the Wild Arabians ; Ishmaelites and Sarazens , Lurking about in Thievish Dens . Myrmidons , Scythian and Tartar , As true as ever wore a Garter . What are the Tritons , but Sea-Swobbers , A Company of Pirates and Robbers ? What are Fawns , Satyrs , and Nymphs , But a kind of ugly Imps ? Dryades and Hamadryades , The Watry Spawn of Pleiades . Try what ye can do , upon all occasions , To save Hungary from Invasions . Lituania , Poland , Mosco , Send 'um Franciscus de Sacrâ Bosco . Russia's troubled with the Bears , Set 'um together by the Ears . Let Lapland Witches scratch and bite , Gothland will rejoyce at the sight . What think ye of Amstelodami , Leyden or Roterodami ; Franiker , Gouda , Utrecht , Dort , Where the Synod was allamort ? They lie near Hell , you must needs know it , You have Business there , and you must show it . Stay , and be drunk 'mong 'um a while , Help a lame Dog o're the Stile . Norway , Denmark , Swedeland are Cold , There 's no good Wine , I am told ; But there 's good Company , 't is said , And many of them of your Trade . Germany's a large Tract , and France , Keep 'um still at Variance . Maintain the ancient Enmity 'Twixt Capet's , and the Austrian Family . When the Spaniard begins to Swagger , Send him a Rapier to his Dagger . When there shall be no Antipathy 'Tween these Nations , let 'um agree : And as for the Italian Mode , Both hate it , more than they do a Toad . The Scots are False , the Welsh love Leeks , Of all give me the Merry Greeks . The French too much courts and cringes , The Portugal's off o' th' Hinges . The brave English Nation , If they be wise , will keep their Station . Visit 'um all , never fear , You 'l Welcom there and every where . There 's all sorts to please your Palats , Truly , we don't live all on Sallads . Call in at Madrid , grave and wise , Extol Toledo to the Skies : Salamanca for Degrees , Conimbricenses for Learned Fees . Malaga for Sack and Raysons , In Spain there is no Treasons : Poor and Proud , if you will , But Seigniors and Dons still . Religioso's and Profano's , Generoso's d' Altos Montanos . Tell 'um of a Moorish Blood , 'T is a Tale of Robbin-Hood . But so it was hundreds of years , Try 'um all by their Peers . ( Swans and Peacocks from fair Eggs Are fair Birds , but have all Black Legs . ) But they are Wise , and you are Able To advise a Spanish Table . Your Business is , to try Conclusions , And put the World into Confusions . At last , when this Race is run , Home agen , Home agen , Market's done .

CANTO X. But Idle you must not be , You are come but to Half-way-Tree . For shame Ladies give not over , Ye are got yet but Half-Seas-over . Go awake the Seven-Sleepers , Who all this while have been their Keepers . Search for the Ten Tribes that were lost , Find out what Seas they crost : And to make the story True , Look out for Joseph , the Wandring Jew . Tell us from whence , and by what Way The Tartars got into America . Who built the Pyramids so high , In the Aegyptian Land , and why ? At Memphis Altar , what Record's best , Where the Phoenix made her Nest : How she with Spice her Self did burn , And when the Young one made Return . Find out the Northern Passage , and then tell From thence , which is the way to Hell : And if you can , Come about , And teach us the way to get out . Behind what Mountains is there Room , To dance in fair Elysium : What Judges are there ; and is it true , That they give every one his Due ? Aegyptians kept their Rites to beguile us , As secret as the Head of Nilus . There in Ovens were Hatcht The Noble Chickens of our Art : When they were fledg'd , from thence they flew , Became Eagles and Vulturs too . But if you search for private News , 'T is lock't up in Archive's Mews . All Conjurers by Hell's Blesson , To be close , have learnt their Lesson . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Orpheus taught it to secure us . Odi profanum Vulgus & Arceo , Donec Secreta mea Farcio . That is , Be close , as Horace says , Tell no Tales in open Plays . Petronius the Prose-Poet , Arbiter like , will not have the world know it . Priapus Chappel must foul Scenes hide , Like the chast Chamber of a Bride . And is not this a Magick Pride , T' have Principles of Art deny'd ? Thus they erect Schemes and calculate Nativities , by an unknown Fate . So they come off by Right or Wrong , In a Multitude or Throng ; When several Aspects should bring Several Falls or Rises , a Monstrous Thing . In the Field , or in a Ship , The Sword , the Waves make such a Trip ; At once shall give one single Fall , To young and old , to great and small . Was the Face of Heaven the same At all their Births ? ye are to blame . Rome , as certain Story consters , Produc'd of men the greatest Monsters : Heliogabalus littered there , so good , Nero kneaded of Blood and Mud. Gemellus boldly entertains Consul and Tribune with Shee-naked-Swains . Clodius for Joy may ring the Bells , When Break-fasted with dissoly'd Pearls . He deserv'd to be Accurst , Was glad to sup with a Brown Crust . To tread the Sacred Floor , Pompey was bold , But Crassus stole the Temples Gold ; And accordingly they thriv'd , Neither of them was long liv'd . Any Man shall catch a Quail , That can lay Salt upon her Tail ; But how shall a Man a Knave catch , Except he sets a Knave to watch ? Why Aesculapius the Son Had a Beard , and his Father none . Why Apollo was always young , Mercury had a Lying Tongue . Why at the Suns Bird , the Cock's Crowing , The Lion flies , and falls a roaring : Why Venus runs a whoring . Why chast Diana seem'd so glad To kiss Endymion , that pretty Lad. ‛ He that lov'd Juno was proud , And for that made to embrace a Cloud . How Venus was conceiv'd of Froth , Neptune and Thetis tell me the Troth : To get Children so you would be loth ; For my part I suspect you both . Where stood that unlucky Tower . To Danaes Lap how fell that Shower ? Who on a Lady can have Pow'r , That vows Chastity every hour ? If she keep it , she deserves a Dower ; If not , it was not in her Power . The Wanton Powers lay a Golden Train , To put Virgins out of their Pain . How Animals spring from Insects or Eggs Elephants sleep standing on Legs . Cartez Wife threw Herbs , in the Ballad , Which fell into a well-ordered Sallad . At Horses Picture a Pencil was thrown , Which exactly depicted his Foam . Sylvans , Fawns , Satyrs , Pans , Are they the Brood of Beasts , or Man's ? Hercules Club and Lions Skin , Castor 's Cap , Bacchus 's Ivy Javelin : Mercury 's Wand , Wings and Cloak ; Apollo 's Crown , Bow and Arrows of Oak . As true as ever struck stroak , Either to cure or kill good Folk . Mars's Gorget , Helmet , Shield and Sword , Jove kept all in awe at a Beck or a Word . Whether Delta were Aegypts Bounds , What Yard measur'd the over-flown Grounds ? What were Telesmata , Teraphims and Talismans ? Tell me , if all their Geese were Swans . Who were 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Averruncani , If Typhons were Giants or Nani ; If they were Sacred or Prophani ? Whether the steem of Burnt Flesh and Blood Were the Cacodaemon's Food ? If you can tell us the sad Stories Of the Limbo Purgatories . If an Usurers Soul pass Into a Camel or an ●ss ; A Glutton into a Hog , A Flatterer into a Dog ; A Buffoon into an Ape , Or a fair Monky shape . What ugly Souls make their Inroads Into Vipers , Frogs or Toads . Quere , Who Foxes do possess , They must be Hypocrites , I guess . Whether there be a Propagation Of Souls , or a Transmigration . We would gladly be Resolv'd , Whether a Resurrection Hold. I would fain know , if you can tell , What Matches are made in Hell : Whether the Powers Below , The Passages Above do know ? How th' Infernal Spirits at our Call , Do come and go for good and all . Where dwelt the Amazons , which is the Way To Atlas or Utopia . How shall we sail without Demur , From the Atlantick to Mar del Zur ? Who was the first Bragadocean , That durst venture upon the Ocean ? Who crost the Alpes first , upon what Cliff Stands the Pike of Tenariff ? Aetna and Vesuvius Flame , In Iseland a Hill does the same . What is the Matter that disgorges From these vast Infernal Forges ? Do they make Thunderbolts there , To ramble all about the Air ? Have a care , Stones and Ashes flie , 'T is hazard whether live or die . Young Pliny curiously provok't To find the Cause , was simyly Choakt ; For Grief and Folly , Anger , Pride , Not finding Causes for the Tide , The Stagyrite fell down and dy'd , So was an old Learn'd Fool try'd . Tell us , what are the Hedges 'Twixt Prerogatives and Priviledges ? Let 's know where was Plato's Cave , That bred many a Simple Slave ? Tell us where are those Rich Grotto's Of Golden Sepulchres , and what Motto's ? All which the Indians keep stifling , From Spaniard's Sacrilegious Rifling . Tell us what Bard , or Brozen Head , Directed them to rob the Dead . Tell us of the World i' th' Moon , And the way thither , and how soon ? What huge Swans that use Craft , Passengers on their Backs to waft ? What became of the Heathen gods , That set the Inferiour World at odds ? What silenc'd Delphos Oracles so wise , Of Dodona's Grove tell us more Lies ? Shew us old Parnassus Mountain , With the Heliconian Fountain ? Where is the Philosophers Stone , And the rare Panpharmacon ? To get these in Possession , 'T would make one bite his Fingers to the Bone . Where lie the Winds , and in what Holes , What Lands or Seas under the Poles ? Th' Inchanted Island , and the Strand That leads us to the Fairy Land ? The everlasting Springs , that feed The Ocean , where Sea Monsters breed ? Tell us plainly , if you can , Where tumbles the Leviathan ? Where wallow those mighty Whales , Spowting and turning up their Tails ? The true Scarlet Fishes Blood , The Cuchanell Fly so good . All Rarities that can be found Above , or under Ground . Tell us the Milky Way , and where Are the dark Hollows of the North Sphere ? Teach us where the Comets breed , And where the massy Elephants feed ? Where Vnicorns or Mermaids dwell ? Shew us the Confines of Hell . Whither do all the Ghosts come , The Way to S●yx or Elysium ? Tell us what 's the Great Turk's Diet ? When the Presbyterins will be Quiet ? Teach us what will content a Quaker , Or a Rump-Adjutator . Tell us what will please the People , Or who will build Paul ' Steeple ? What are a Leveller's Caresses , To what will Seekers make Addresses . What will the Family of Love delight , Whither will a Ranter take his flight ? Where may Debtors play least in Sight ? What 's the Muggletonian Exercise ; Where 's the Adamites Paradise ? Tell me what 's Law or Reason , What 's Prerogative or Treason ? Tell me which was Pope Jone ? And where ' , the Infallible Throne ? Who shall the Vniversal Monarch be ? When the Fanaticks will Agree ? Tell us the Contented State , And what the World thinks of Fate ? Tell us what Kings can give Content ? To a Fanatick Parliament . Tell us how many Generations Do thrive by Impropriations ? I long to know , when , and to what hands Shall be restored Abby Lands ? Tell me , if Tithes or Glebe Grounds Were given to spend on Hawks or Hounds ? I wonder how the Atlantick Ocean Runs into the Straits , with rapid Motion . In that Ditch , I do admire , The vast Waters swell no higher . Where are those deep Floods spent , For 't is apparent there 's no vent ? I would fain know whose curious Ears , Hear the Musick of the Sphears ; Who sings to them in perfect Rhime , And teaches them to keep Time . Tell us whence those Waters come , That fill the Mare Caspium ? How does the Mandrake change his station , Shrieking in such a doleful fashion ? Tell me what poys'nous Vapour flies From the false Crocadiles Eyes ? Dissembling Tears he sheds , and why A Brute should make signs of a Lie ? The Syren and Hiena Sprites , What are they , but Hypocrites ? Tell us when Birds , Beasts , and Trees spoke , And where grew the Holy Oak ? Tell us where , and of what fashion Is the old Oak of Reformation ? What the wise Druids did know Of Virtue , in the Missle-Toe ? What flying of Birds signifies , If Owls and Ravens have fatal Cries ? What say you to the Howling Dogs , Or the Croaking of Toads and Frogs ? You may as well say , Grunting of Hogs . And if it were for Mirth and Jiggs , 'T is a Rare sign , the Squeeking of Pigs . Tell us if Beasts Entrals panting . Bodes Ill-luck , when heart is wanting ? Where lies the Prophetick Omen , Which Augurs judge by the Abdomen ? Why Carkasses buried in the Sand , Never corrupt in Mummy Land . Whole Caravans Stuff , Flesh and Bone Of Man and Beast , turn'd into Stone . How Mountains of Sands remove ; How Enamarado's dye for Love ? The Bees are painful harmless Things , Obedient to Government of Kings . The Ant 's a Labourer and grows Rich , The Idle Grashopper dies in a Ditch . What makes the Saltness of the Sea , Or the stinging of a Flea ? What 's the Cause of Springs and Tides , And who it is the Devil Rides ? A Soland Goose , that drops Into Ponds from Trees Tops . How a Fly mutes black and white , How the Spirits play Least in sight . Whom Cain married , 't was odd , A Woman in the Land of Nod. We could never yet hear Who the Prae-Adamites were . Tell us whether our true Breed , Was of Cham's , or Cain's Seed ? The Case is not yet found , How Rivers run under-ground ; How they their Colour and Course take , Unmingled with the Standing Lake . 'T is a Mystery in Nature , Giants and Dwarfs of different stature . Where wander Swallows in cold Season , How a Coy-Duck should learn Treason ? The Magpy chats , the Crossing Hare Puts Fools into a Bodily fear . The Candle dwindles , and burns Blew , The Spekled Serpent changes Hue : The Eagles Feathers oft renew ; Few of these things are true . Ladies , I would be a little Curious , If you would not be too furious ; To know what Atoms meet together , And fasten against Wind and Weather . How they jumble into shapes , Like so many bunches of Grapes ; And how they separate and shatter Into , or out of this or that form or matter . There is a Black Rock in a Hole , They say , Direct under the North-Pole . Thither every Needle quivers , Which guide Ships in Seas or Rivers . There 's a P●●●t of Honesty , I don't know where , Towards which all ought to steer . They 're gone before it or behind it , No body knows where to find it : Like tge Philosophers Stone , they say , Fled no body knows which way . Be sure 't will ne're come nigh our door . For Poets and Witches must be Poor . There is a beggarly Brungeon Call'd Truth , lies naked in a Dungeon : I don't see any Body minds her And therefore no Body finds her . Leave her , leave her in her Cell , Without her all will do well . She 's cross , has an alluring Spell ; She 'l say All 's false , when we say All 's well . She 'l spoil all where e're she comes , Stifle her in her dark Rooms . To my unlucky Apprehension , What should mean a Comprehension ? Whether or no it be a Sin , To take , at last , us Witches in ? And if so , I 'le undertake What strange work we should make . What unheard of Jealousies and Fears , To set Fanaticks together by the Ears . The occult Causes in the Deep , Lie all together sound asleep . Jog 'um not , for fear ye wake 'um , And the Philosophers should take 'um : We 're as well , and best without 'um , It is your work therefore to slout 'um . Let Falshood every thing Reverse ; Let Lies rule the Universe . Truth 's lost , what are you the Wiser ? Invented Shadows do disguise her . Go to the Vniversities and Schools , Tell 'um they 're a Company of Fools : And when they shall Resolve these Riddles , I 'le send them all sorts of Fools and Fiddles , Clerks and Lawyers shall befriend 'um , With Writs and Melius Inquirendum . They 'l dress up Lies in Prinkum prankum , And th' Worlds Fools and Knaves shall thank'um .

CANTO XI . Tell me you that hate us , fear us , Dare not see us , nor come near us ? What think ye of those dainty Dames , That patch and paint , to kindle Flames ? By open Harlotry t' entice ye , Clap ye , Pox ye , and Spice ye . Play at Questions and Commands , Cheat you of your Wits and Lands . These are brave Ladies , fly in Coaches , Sedans , Chariots , and Caroches . By these we 'l see a Scarlet Lord , To cast you at the Judgment Boord . From all your Honour and Estate , Poor Rogue , you must not dare to prate ; Not a word , though y' have cause to Hate'um , 'T will be Scandalum Magnatum . You are crusht , you are gone , Forc't to be silent , and undone . Of all Remedies you are to seek , Losers must not have leave to speak , You may beg , steal , hang or damn ; But you must not complain a Dram. Who cares whether you swim or sink ? 'T is all one , to be sweet or stink . These are brave Fellows , Reverend Sires , Lords , Baronets , Knights or Squires ; Don't Priests use to kindle Fires ? If there be any Sect or Faction , I 'le warrant they 're ne're out of Action . You may damn us all for Witches , And hang us up like Dogs in Ditches ; But do your worst , we 'l were the Britches . A False Bond , or a forged Deed , Shall make whole Families Bleed : Wife and Children to want Bread , Good men , they won't knock 'um o' th' Head ; Only a little turn 'um out of their Places , And then load'um with Disgraces : Leave'um to pine away , curse and roar , And never care to see 'um more . A Trick there is , without a Hole in 't , Their wit and malice to Cajole it . Get a Noble friend in a good Hour , Match into a Family of Power . Your Enemies shall sink like Moles , Like Rats run into Augur Holes . Now they 'l cringe and sawn , O Base , Kick 'um off , Spit 'um in the Face . Though they be damn'd ore and ore , They 'l never dare to hurt you more . We are worse than Come out ; ugly Jades , That do but truck under such Blades . They slide away with a good Name , But we undergo all the Blame . They flaunt it and make high Brags , But we beg about in Rags . Then choose you , at the Long Run , By us or them to be undone . 'T is in vain to make Complaints , For they appear all like Saints . We are the ugly Hell-hound Slaves ; But they are the gentile Knaves . We shew down right what we be , In words and actions , as you see : But they hide all with a Veil , Carry a deadly Sting in Tail . For a small Cheat you grutch us , They tear y' in pieces with their Clutches . They come off clearly by Yea and Nay , And couzen you at Broad noon Day . They profess your dearest Friends , And sooth you up for basest Ends. If there be an honest Man in Town , Starve him , plague him , crush him down . If he offer to tell Tales , Banish him into Wales . If nothing from Truth reclaim him , The Sea or the Gallows must tame him . These hug and help one another , And dare not each their Faults discover . We don't dissemble , but hurt out right ; But they kill you in close Fight . Watch you , and play Least in sight . They ' l undermine their Fathers , Mothers , Wives , Children and Brothers . They smother all ; but we afford You fair Play , above Board . We commit no open Rapes , These play their Passes and Escapes . What hurt we do you may know ; But they 'l steal you a dead Blow . In your Bosom they shall lye , Embrace you , and make you Dye . They Insinuate and Creep , Fast and loose , while you 're a sleep . I understand their several twinings , I find their secret underminings . Their joynt Compliances and Combinations , To ruine honest Generations . What we are , we make a show , They 're a kind of Witches you shan't know . We are quickly spyed and catcht ; But they are closely hid and hatcht . We 'l harm you , but it shall be by fair Play ; But they 'l destroy you , and sneak away . They shall pity you , and Whine , But you shan't know where to Dine . We openly hang out the Brooms , So you may find us in our Rooms . We are the Bravest Rogues o' th' Two , Because we tell you all we do . But they 're Forsworn , and deny'd it , And did all they could to hide it . You 're welcom to them , as welcom can make ye ; But when you 're gone , A Pox take ye ; Plague confound you ; what made you here , To eat up all our good Cheer , And drink up all our Wine and March-Beer ? If you 'l play the Knaves by Infection , They 'l take you into their Protection : And you shall be their Drudges for a Crust , Keep Life and Soul together , do your worst , And be beholden to 'um for their Trust : But that for them , you must be Starvers , You shall not be your own Carvers . You may have their slighter Vogues , But you must be always Poor Rogues . They that ruine you are Bravo's , You are but the Rascalado's . You must cry them up for brave Fellows , Help 'um the while to blow the Bellows . Except by drudgery you up-stitch-'um , And starve your selves to enrich 'um . Unless you serve their turns , they 'l bang ye ; Keep their Secrets , or else they 'l hang ye . Y' have brought your selves t' a fair Condition , For counting Witchcraft Superstition . Is 't not better to be a Rogue downright , Than to play Rogue least in sight ? A Vizard Villain , a Fawning Dog , A Skipping Toad , a Creeping Frog . A Roaring Bear , a Ravening Kite , Better than the Thing call'd Hypocrite . Thus little Bugs are taken fair , While the great Vermin Break the Snare . You see how 't is , there 's strange Reports , For there are Witches of all Sorts . Not a Word for your life , No difference 'tween Man and Wife . Don't bark or bite , ye Rascal Curs , B' as mute as your Masters , make no Stirs . Be whist , though ye be going to Hell ; If ye be ask'd , say , All is well . You see Bribes coming , you must Wink , Cry Sweet , when you smell a Stink . Brave Jewels , Gold and Silver Plate ; Not for your Master , but his Mate . The Lady is presented , she must please , Coaches and Horses for her Ease . She is very quick-sighted , With Venice-Glasses much delighted : Persian Carpets are the Truest , Antwerp Tapestry , the Newest . The Italians paint the fairest Faces , The Flanders Nuns make the best Laces , Barbary Horses run best Races . My Lady hath a dainty Tooth , Kid and Venison forsooth : In truth she loves the choicest Fishes , To be serv'd up in China Dishes . Be sure you do not starve your Cause , And then , never fear the Laws . Jewels and Plate , rich Ermin and Bever , For Lord and Lady , come off Clever . Be silent of all this , or you shall be hurl'd Presently into another World . They 'l post you farthest from the Light ; Dead tell no Tales , Dead never Bite . Swear and Lye lustily , and lick our Trenchers ; Not a word , though your Lords be Wenchers . We Lacquies hand Whores up Stairs In Sedans , 'bout their Lords Affairs . A Shilling drops into our hands . We must keep our Masters Commands . Our Betters must be first serv'd , then by a Trick A Salt-Bitch may give us a Lick . We have our poor Whores , for poor Offenders , For Bread and Cheese , and Ale-Spenders . These are good enough for Sinners , That don't know where to get their Dinners . They that have but a slender Stock , Must be content with a Bit and a Knock. We can tell what 's what , A Slave lacks a bit for his Cat. Like to like will always follow , Hungry Dogs have a good swallow . Like Master , like Man , Help , that help can . Caw me and I 'le Caw thee , takes with all , Dissembling is 'mongst great and small . The great Trees are all Just , And the mean Shrubs are always worst . They are the honestest Men , That can Swear to and agen . These are the true Cunning men , Which good Witches or Wizards ken : But we are worse than come out , Ever torn and kickt about . Great Rogues rise higher , Hell be thanked , Slaves in the World must be tost in a Blanket . We must labour and fare hard , Witches are always poor , amard . The Rich have stoln away our Trade ; We are mar'd , but they are made : And which is the worst that can come upon us , Th' have stole away all our Credit from us . Of them there 's no Suspition ; They 're Good , but we are the Superstition . We are Molls-tell-troths , they are Smugglers , We are Plain-dealing , they are Jugglers . We do all the wrong we can , And ne're pretend to Honest man . We are what we profess ; But such as they are nothing less . We don't go behind the Vail , They labour backwards , Tooth and Nail : And downwards too , like Moles and Bats ; And upwards too , like Mice and Rats . In Gaols and Dungeons we crawl , They feast in Parlour and Hall . We are the Wolves , they are the Foxes ; We work in sight , they 're shut up in Boxes . Witches hurt you , and ye Whore'um ; They plague you most , and you most Adore'um . 'T is pity but you should be Curst , That hate the bad , and love the worst . If you will be bewitcht , you must ; And if you will , you shall be Curst : If you will be Fool'd and Knav'd , Ye shall be abused , and beslav'd . Hang ye must , be sure , That do most mischief , fair and pure . You 're the crossest Fools that e're were maken ; Of all , you are the most mistaken . This is the greatest mischief sure , To come without Call into their Lure . Spaniel-Witchcraft fawn , when basted , Be hang'd at last , when all is wasted . This is just Cuckolds Eare , Be abus'd , and take no Care . A Fool in Grain , that courts Despair , And makes his chiefest Foe his Heir . He that cringes most , and keeps closest to you ; Hug him most , that would most undo you . He that most would eat you up , Cherish him most o're Can and Cup. He that most intends to Bane ye , Let him Cudgel ye and Cane ye . Nay , if he would seek to hang ye , Feast him most , and let him bang ye : Smooth him softly on the Cheek ; Then kiss his Breech , and say , 't is Sweet . This is the right Condition , Of them that are of the Worlds disposition . Knaves then have the bravest Times , To be made most of , for the greatest Crimes . It seems this is the way to Wive , It seems this is the way to Thrive . We could ne're find out this Conjecture ; We ne're had the wit to read this Lecture . We ne're practic'd this rare Function , Ne're sound Stars in so happy Conjunction . I think 't was rarely seen before , To Rant it first , and cry first Whore : Be most rich , and cry most poor , Act most , and go most behind the Door . Surely there 's no Witchcraft then Like this , to play Knaves , and shew honest Men : And to make Fools believe , They 're most our Friends , that most us grieve . Then if the World will be cheated , Of their Wits let 'um be defeated . We don't openly Pray and Preach , And privately over-reach . But we directly Plague and Curse , And we are plagu'd for better for worse . So you know what we are , and what to call us , And if e're took , what will befall us ? The Law telleth us our Fate ; We tell you when we love or hate . They dress up Lyes with Trick me dainty , And the World's Fools with Love and Thank ye . The most Hypocrites , says Martin , And tho most Knaves , the better Fortune .

CANTO XII . 'T is commonly objected , we are Old And Doting ; but most Bold . An Old Body is not so Clever ; But an Old Soul's brisker than ever . Wiser and more Gallant Notions ; Nobler , and more Stately Motions . A Young Conscience will stare , When she is bid to Curse and Swear . A puling Novice whivels and pines , To take extraordinary Fines ; But an old Conscience is Tough , And never thinks she wrongs enough . So I be rich , I care no more , Though Ten thousand be poor . Call me wicked Rogue and Knave , So I get the Mony and go brave . Let me purchase stately Mansions , And in them I dance my Stancheons . The Honest man skips at a Crust , And is glad to go a Trust . I never so much as think Of them , that want Meat and Drink . Let all perish by Destiny , As long as the World goes well with me . But they methinks are very bold , That say , Hang Witches 'cause they 're old . Of this I make a stout Denial , And put my self upon my Trial. We know by Experience what 's best , And what 's the Truth of all the rest . Of all Knaves , give me the Old Tost , She 's fittest to rule the Rost . An old Beldam , forsooth , Without a Nose , without a Tooth . As for her ungodly Tongue , We know 't is evermore well hung . As for her Brain , she shall contrive All the Mischief alive . A young Knave 's but a Fool at best , An old Knave 's wiser than the rest : And therefore we for our Ages , Are most justly styled Sages . We know all the Tricks , and where to find 'um , And every way to turn and wind 'um . A young Rogue will Whine and Think ; But an old Rogue scorns to shrink . A Novice will make Rogues Faces ; But an old Boy fears no Disgraces . Experience of Actions , Fits for all kind of Factions . A young Rogue acts , and his Hand shakes ; But an old Villains Heart ne're quakes . A young Rogue acts and Trembles ; But an old Rogue boldly Dissembles . If he be but Rich and Great , You shall never make him Sweat . Hang those tender Concience Slaves , Give us the Virtuoso Knaves . Give me the Conscience that can stretch , At command , Carry and Fetch : This sutes most neat and fine , In an Old Lawyer , or Divine . A Courtier is a pretty Thing , And most proper to cheat a King . As for Masons , Silk-men , Taylors , Send 'um packing to the Goalors . Merchants , Tradesmen are whist . But as true Cheats as ever Pist. A Souldier is a mad Shaver , Scorns to be tied to his good Behaviour ; As for every petty Shirk , Let Pick-pockets set 'um a work , And the Constable give them the Jirk , And the Hangman give 'um a Firk. We can dance Moll Dixons Round , We can play Doll Commons Ground . Come along , Women and Men , Here 's dainty Content , and your Mony agen . 'T is a merry World , where we be , At the Islands of Charybbe , St. Christophers , Barbados , Rio de Gamba , and de la Platas . We tune our Viols , Lyra and all Fancy-way , Fit for every sport and play . We joyn in Consort with the Spheres , Make 'um Sing , or Soll'um by the Ears . Charm Moon and Stars out of their Forms , To drop down in Gelly Gums ; Scatter 'um about like Plums . Rip up the Ass , by Senates Doom Accused falsly , by his Groom , In an Eclipse to have drank up the Moon . Thus the Master he must Lie for 't , And the poor simple Servant dye for 't . How these Hectors , Fools and Fops , Load their Backs , and cram their Crops . Clog'd with Sawces , Soakt with Wine , Nothing but Miss and Concubine ; Nothing but Sack , Eggs , and Muscadine . Gentlemen-Ushers , Mushrom-Shrimps , Catamits , Sodomites , Bawds and Pimps . A Rogue with never an Eye in 's head , To a fair Venus crawls to bed ; Fitter to hang , or knock of the head . These prosperous Villains I grutch , I ever thought they thriv'd too much . 'T was always so ; for what says Pluck , The more Fool , the better Luck . O Stallions , ye deserve Correption , That Cover Mares after Conception . After-Births , Moon-Calves , Secundines , Menstrua's , no Bar your Lust confines . Give the Lawyers large Fees , For invading prohibited Degrees : No Sex or Age stops your filthy Lees , Ye deserve to be stung to death by Bees . What was Merlin the Welsh Bard ? No Devils can your Lust retard . Monkies , Baboons , and Apes ▪ Too foully feel your Monstrous Rapes . Ladies of Pleasure , too oft let me tell you , You meet with a Satyr , or a Robbin-good-Fellow . And you Rogues , are you not asham'd For Mixtures , not to be nam'd ? But as for our Carnal Coitions , We admit of no Conditions . All Sexes , Degrees and Kinds , Cannot limit our lustful Minds . Beside , the Rareness of our Merits Advanceth us to mix with Spirits . So we become a special Brood , Distinct from the rest of Womanhood . Which makes our Actions to Savour , Of a far different Behavour . Partly Mortals , partly Devils , Our Nature fits us for higher Evils . So we are us'd for all Intents Of Mischiefs , the best Instruments . A mixt Blood runs in our Veins , Mongrels appear in different Strains . A sort of mad confounded Witchery . Compounded of Haggery , Doggery and Bitchery . Still we deserve the greatest Fames , Under Priests , Magi , and Augurs Names . They had the Honours and Degrees ; We did the work , they take the Fees . This Nature and this Art I have imbib'd , And have accordingly describ'd . Teach one , you that know more Than I do , of Witch and Whore . The Rarest Mystery I here Exhibit ; For which I may deserve the Gibbet . Now for us , Make room , make room , Open every stinking Tomb : These are our Chambers of Delights ▪ Where we revel and roar whole Nights . Give us a Crony and a Tony , A Parson , and an old Vulpone . Honest Trouts will ne're forsake us , We 'l be as merry as Cup or Kan can make us . The Shepherd-Swain quotes Erra Pater , An old Monthly Prognosticator : Tycho Brache , a great Undertaker , Little more than an Almanack-Maker . Southsayers and Astrologers of the East , Pitiful Conjurers at best . A certain sort of Snipper-snappers , Hight Spirits or Kidnappers . Apollo with his Drinks and Playsters , Us'd to cure Country Disasters : With golden Pills , Syrups , and Clysters , He practis'd on his dainty Mistress ; And when he lackt a new Wife , Vomited the old One out of Life . He was a Common Fidler , and the Trades His Muses drove , was Chamber-Maids . Aesculape , the Arcadian Ass , A perfect Tooth-drawer was : And for Venus we need no Trumpet , In Cyprus she was a Common Strumpet . These , and such like Remainders , Have constantly been our Retainers ; Because we scorned to impart To such , the Secrets of our Art , A kind of Slovenly Operators , Skullion drudging Laborators . All such Mongrels , we declare 'um Pro Vanitate Scientiarum . The same were those that Writ before 'um , Till we were Professors of the Quorum . 'T is we do those powerful Wonders , By terrible Lightnings and Thunders . Are not these Real harms , That come to pass with Winds and Storms ; By Fire and Water , Sea and Land , Which Evil Spirits do command ? Besides , Spells and Incantations , Creating strange Infatuations . By the Ear and by the Eye , Demonstrations none can deny . Yet these are counted Idle Stories , Invented by deluding Tories : But as to Legends of Lead , Concerning Wonders by the Dead . By Bones , and Clouts , and old Shun , What Miracles have been done ? These must all be believ'd for true , Or else ye don't give the Saints their due . These are the Witchcrafts of Friars , Those covetous , sanctified Liars . Because they are such Self-denyers ; But we are put upon our Tryars . They are admired and rewarded ; But we are nothing at all regarded . Take us by our ugly Chops , And truss us up , as fast as Hops . But that for pleasure of Revenge , And to bring about our Ends ; Who 'd be a Witch ? But we 're delighted , And do most harm where we are most spighted . He that fain would be quiet , Tell him , We utterly deny it , We 'l vex and plague him till he dye , And haunt his Ghost to Eternity : For all that are of our Temper , Are implacable Semper . Keep off , you that hurt us and jeer us ; If ye wont love , we 'l make ye fear us . Shut up your Horses and your Kine , Look to your Beer , Ale , Corn and Wine . We 'l make mad work , if you take not heed , Destroy you , and all your Breed . Our very Mice and Rats shall tear you , All our Cocks and Hens shall scare you . You shall Swear they are all Sprites , To torment you Days and Nights . Each Lowce of ours , that makes us itch , Is qualified for a Witch : And all the Fleas that suck our Blood , Were never counted very good . Yea , our very Dogs and Cats , Are no better than Hellish Brats . Every Rat or hungry Mouse , That chances to forsake our House , Bewitches all the Vermin nigh ; So Broods of Imps come to multiply . Without fail , every Man or Maid We keep , must needs be of our Trade .

CANTO XIII . The Question is , Which is worse , A Diabolical or Human Curse ? Devils have most strength of Arm ; But Wicked men shall do most harm . The Devils Malice never dies ; But the resisted Coward flies . Men never cease to Hate or Spoil , 'T is hard to give them the Foil . Devils can hurt us without hands ; But cannot cheat us of our Lands , Nor force us to obey their Commands , And we do put them to many stands . Devils can flatter , tempt and kill : But not without , nor against our Will. They that do with Spirits deal , ( Shadows that neither see nor feel ; ) Find they can only fright and fear ; But Flesh and Blood do's gripe and tear . Devils have more Wit and Manners , Than such hypocritical Trepanners . They contrive mischief more freely , And act their Villanies more Gentilely . Devils keep Principles ; Men deny Just and Unjust Morality . Great and Little are truly mated , Good and Bad must be related . Spirits are bounded and kept in ; 'T is Men wade through thick and thin . When was the Devil so forlorn , To Blaspheme , or be Forsworn ? The Devil holds Religion ; Men deny it : He fears Justice ; but They defie it . The Savage Beasts do us little harm , The rest feed us and keep us warm . Now and then Devils may tempt us , And ugly Witches may Torment us : Pilfering Neighbours may Poll us , And some angry Folk controll us ; But the Designing men annoy us , Undermine us and de●stoy us . Devils Incarnate Mortals fright , More than pure Spirits of greater Might . 'T is the close Intriguing Party ; Ravening , Proud , and never Hearty : But that for these we might do well , For all the Devils in Hell . Those are Disturbers of the Peace , None can keep their own , or live at ease . For a Witch there is a Spell , And Charms to conjure those in Hell : But a fair Tongue , and Sting in Tail , There is no Fence for a Flayl . The Prime Devils are Chain'd i' th' dark ▪ The Petty ones run about and shark . We pick them up , as idle Blades , And choose them for our Camrades . These are the Pugs that haunt Rooms , And walk in Melancholy Tombs : We send them to kill Poultry , Hogs and Pigs , At merry Meetings to dance Jiggs . To make merry , or make sad ; Sometimes , if need be , to make mad . But a vexatious , angry Wizard , That 's troubled with the grumbling o' th' Gizzard ; Deals in Tempests , Fires or Floods , That consume mens Lives and Goods . Counterfeit Wares , Bonds , Wills and Deeds , Turns and winds Covenants and Creeds . Oaths can stand him in no stead , 'T is nothing to make poor Hearts bleed . Rake for Estates , and tear the ground , Purchase all that can be found . Ravish Mannors , Rifle Farms , Take-in Commons without Charms . Plunder Abbies , Chantries , Cells , Where Jewels , Gold , and Silver dwells . Cottages , Villages cannot escape , He makes an universal Rape . Whole Families Cries and Tears , Never enter into his Ears : He is no more concern'd in Losses , Than the Stone-Statues upon Crosses . How so e're you seem to grutch us , You may be far safer in our Clutches . And 't was ever took for granted , By Fools and Knaves the World is hanted : And at all This we 're never danted , Our Spirit 's large , we can't be scanted . From all which Premisses , I dare conclude , The World 's worser than Hell's Brood . Witches and Men out-act malign Devils . Hell and the World are constant Evils .

CANTO XIV . If any thing hath me inspir'd , If any thing my Muse hath fir'd , It is those monstrous ugly Beasts , Hypocrisies and Interests : Both which in others I detest , But 'mong our selves , I like them best . These bring Friends and Foes about 'um , We cannot do our work without 'um . Cruelty's nothing , Lyes , beyond compare , The best Dish in all our Bill of Fare : But the Dissembler , is most base Of all our cursed Hellish Race . Fierce Revenge , of bloody Hue , Is Devil-like , but True : But of all Fiends , as to my mind , The worst is , of the Fawning kind . Hang the Hypocrite , he is most Evil , For he would not stick to betray the Devil . The black I 'le trust ; but the white Devil Is the Contriver of all Evil. The Hypocrites , 't is sadly true , Both Devils and Witches out-do . Rogues are all for what they can get , In heat or cold , in dry or wet ; All is Fish that comes to Net . By fair or foul means , rap or rend , Rake all together , nothing spend . A Principle of Self-love and Gain , To thrive by others Loss and Pain : To flatter all both Poor and Rich , And for a Penny kiss their Britch . These to us more Skill impart , Than thousand Masters of the Black Art . I loath it most in wealthy Swains , Noble and Learned stoop to Gains : 'T is common to both Gowns ; I had almost said to Crowns . Ambassadors of State , Dissemble at a strange Rate ; Swear to peaceable Conditions , Intend Warlike Expeditions . Consuls , Senators , Tribunes fail , Base fawning Roman wags his Tail . For an Heroick Sir to leer , Under his Bonnet , mow and fleer ; How ill it looks in a Peer ? How do the Common-People Jeer ? After Promises and Oaths most repeated , You shall be sure to be most cheated . These Rascals , for being so base , Are to our Profession a Disgrace . Sordid Lucre ne're tempted us so high , Our Vows and Covenants to deny . Methinks these Faces of Angel-Hue , When the Heart is most untrue ; Look worse by far than Wolves or Dogs , More loathsom than Toads or Frogs . A base counterfeit , couzning Hag More 's hist at , than Bob-tail , Tag and Rag. Tatter-de-Mallions we know , And shabby , lowzy Sharks let go : But Priests and Lords , and Lawyers wise , For them to go in a Disguise , It mads my Soul , and hurts my Eyes , I would make them a Sacrifice . I know not what can be worse in Hell , Yet , I like it abominably well . Certainly there is great Reason , To loath the Traytor , and like the Treason . Then Hypocrites , we 'l use ye ; But we are resolv'd to abuse ye . The World hates you , and so do we , And with both Hell does agree . Your banging Hats and false Faces , Your killing complemental Graces : Your grave Gate , and dissembling Garb , Makes you odious to every Barb. An Indian , or Turk adores Honesty ; but Treachery abhors : For 't is to be more than a Devil , To be at once both kind and cruel . If I have any skill in Vices , As much or more than I have in Spices ; I would cut them out in Slices , Or square them into false Dices . Dissembling , with Gravity and Sanctity ill sutes , Because Always it self confutes ; And much remains among the Mutes , And they are worser than the Brutes . It gets Wealth , where there is no need , And seeming Love , without good speed : For of all Sins it is most hated , From all Company reprobated . The veriest Rogues that find them out , Cry foh , and kick them about . Though they be ne're so great , yet still the Vogues Are , Hang 'um old Knaves , hang 'um Old Rogues . I 'le burn all my Trinkets , and my Books , Before I 'le trust their Words or Looks . Their smiling , whining , scowling , winking , Uncorrespondent to their Thinking : Besides a lownging , cringing Gate , There is no end of all their Prate ; Out-chat the Devil , or his Mate , And still keep a stinking State . Never threaten , never frown , But ( like the Devil ) run ye down . Hell 's fear'd , because 't is Hell ; But her 's Heaven , and yet nothing Well . They never Travel without Hoods , Bid you stand , and take your Goods ; Charm your Eyes , enchant your Ears , Save ye , and bring ye into all Fears . Witches are a Mongrel-Breed , Betwixt Imps and Human Seed ; Like Fawns , Satyrs , Moors , Jackanapes , and Monky Whores : But these , What shall I call 'um ? Where are they , or what will befall 'um ? Above Devils I will enstall 'um , I wish I could at last Enthral 'um .

CANTO XV. There 's a S●rivana in the Town , No Gentleman , nor yet no Clown : Partiperpale , up and down , Betwixt the Cloak and the Gown . No Lawyer , but a Law-Driver , A vexatious Suit-Contriver . Understands deep Points of Law , In any Evidence to make a Flaw . A cleanly Conveyancer of Lands , Or Houses , into his own Hands . Such an One has the unhappy Curse , To be a Master of every Mans Purse . To know every Mans Estate , Be it early , be it late ; Be it in , or out of Date . For a Mortgage , or a Sale He 's ready , he will ne're turn Tail . Have you a Golden Mine lies by you , This is the only Man to try you . Intrust him with your Coyn , estsoon He 'l take his Interest by the Moon . He regards not Solar years , No more than Orphans , or Widows Tears . Let him alone to tare and rack The Cloaths from the Strangers Back . Let him alone to make his Best , And pop you off with Bare Interest . Betwixt Berwick and Dover , For a Mortgage over and over . Or if you think that an Abuse , Pawn your Money , Use upon Use : There 's Principal and Procuration , There 's Bummaree and Continuation , There 's enough to undo a Nation . Poor Spaniard with all his Plate , Has not paid Interest for Eighty Eight . Go to the Bankers of Lombard-street , Try Genoa where Usurers meet : You shall bring Grist unto the Mill , And you shall be the poorer still . You are empty , but they fill , And nothing is against your Will . There 's your Hand and Seal to show it , But what 's Interest , you shall never know it . For you , they shall take care to bestow it , For fear you should overflow it . All this while , Good men and True , They give to every one his due ; They keep your Goods , and their own too . Never question an Account , Let 'um lie by , Bills will amount . I say then , Look up and Trust , For at last , be undone you must . Take no care , borrow and spend , Your Bags will never have an End ; Till in the Gaol at last we find ye , In Chains , with your Hands tied behind ye . There 's a prime Mortgage , there he lurches , And turns it into a Purchase . He 's free to lend , and you to borrow , You shall find it to your sorrow ▪ For you shall be a Beggar to morrow . He plunges you in Suits of Laws , Tells you , Your Causes have no Flaws ; 'Till you are left alone ' i th' Lurch , With never a Farthing in your Purse . Get him a rich Heir , Fool , or Mad , Or a poor Helpless Novice Lad ; Or a young Lass , 't is ne're the worse , Provided she has a good Purse . Make him an Overseer you must , Or a sole Guardian in Trust . Let all your Deeds be at his Commands , You shall never get 'um out of his hands . He 'l marry him or her to a Son , Nephew , or Niece , Is not this the Golden Fleece ? Or if he , or she , have been Rangers , And married themselves to Strangers ; Then comes Bills for House-keeping . For washing , scowring , rubbing , sweeping . So much for Cursing , so much for Swearing , So much for using , so much for forbearing . So much for England , so much for France , So much for Singing and learning to Dance . So much for practising on the Lute , Organ , Violin , Cornet and Flute . All this , and more , who dares confute ? Down with your Dust , Sir , and be mute . So much for Fines , Repairs , and Leases , Building , mending Sluces and Breaches . So much for Plowing and Dunging of Grounds ; So much for Hawks and Hounds . So much for Servants , Rogues and Whores , And in Charity , so much for Poors , The right way to be turn'd out a Doors . So much for Riding the Great Horse ; For the Vaulting School , draw your Purse . So much for Plays , Masques , and Interludes ; So much for Compounding of Feuds . So much for Journeys , to and fro ; So much for what you must not know . So much for Seconds in a Strife ; So much for parting Man and Wife ; So much for helping to save his Life . So much to buy him a Place ; Sir , I cannot bate you an Ace . So much for Taylors and Merchants Bills , For Doctors and Apothecaries Pills . So much for Pictures , so much for Books ; So much for Cutpurses , so much for Rooks. So much for Bear-Garden , Cock-Pit , and Races ; So much for Horses , and for Paces . So much for Ribbons , so much for Laces ; So much for Patches , and Painted Faces . So much for Garlands , and Gay-things ; Puppets , Babies , and Play-things . So much for Swords and Belts , so much for Fidlers ; So much for Juglers , Gypsies and Ridlers . So much for Claps , so much for Poxes , For Running o' th' Reins , and hunting the Foxes . So much for Bawds , Pimps , and Doxies ; So much for poor Whores Chrismas-Boxes . So much for Gaming , and so much for Betting ; So much for Hunting , and so much for Setting . So much for Angling , and so much for Netting ; So much for Drying , and so much for Wetting . So much for Carrying , and so much for Fetching ; So much for Shrinking , and so much for Stretching . So much for Vouching , and so much for Wagers ; So much for Sureties , and all sorts of Engagers . So much for Fasting , and so much for Eating ; So much for Silence , and so much for Speaking . So much for Laughing , and so much for Weeping ; So much for Waking , and so much for Sleeping . So much for Lying , and so much for Cheating ; So much for being Basted , and so much for Beating . So much for breaking Glass-Windows and Gates ; So much for broken Legs and broken Pates . So much for Turning , and so much for Winding ; So much for Losing , and so much for Finding . So much for Cudgeling , so much for Fencing ; So much for Drinking , and so much for Wenching . So much for Catch-poles , Bumbaylies and Keepers ; Gentlemen Wakers , and Gentlemen Sleepers . So much for Monkies , Apes and Baboons ; So much for losing Silver Spoons . So much for Sweeting , so much for Stinking ; So much for Acting , so much for Thinking . So much for Jewels , Pendants and Rings , Points of Venice , Necklaces and Pins : Powders , Perfumes , Essences , Roses , Elixirs , Spirits , and Quelque-Choses . So much for This , and so much for That , And so much for No body knows what . Where 's your Estate now , poor Fools , Can ye work without Tools ? The Total Sum , for Meat , Drink , and Cloathing , Is so much for Every thing , and so much for Nothing .

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY . The Third Part.

By R. D.

LONDON , Printed in the Year , 1683.

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY .

Prologue . I Canidia , inspir'd with Rage , Advance my Satyr on the Stage , In Revenge to Act my Part , With a Bloody Hand and Heart . Stultorum plena sunt omnia , Let me Interpret Nebulonum Somnia . Sophies , Poets , Clerks , Jurisconsults , Come before Me and pay your Mulcts . I tell You , I 'le not spare y' a Man , Nor Devil neither , if I can . My sharp Pen dipt in Poyson'd Gall , Resolves to perstringe you , One and All. Though you may question my Skill , You 'l find I do not want a Will . What 's a Woman , or Woman kind ; Have Patience , you shall know my Mind . O ye Learned Tribe , I love you ; But know , that I am Above you , And when you 're Knaves , I dare reprove you . 'T is We , and those of our Professions , That can read you better Lessons . Give us leave to teach you and your Crew , Better than all your Dunce-Doctors can do . Then boast not of getting the Day , We 'l hold you Everlasting Play . We care not for your Syllogisms , Elenchus's , Fallacies , Paralogisms . When you are beat by Strength of Reason , We know , you 'l take your selves to Treason . We charge you all with Hate and Strife , Ne're ceasing till you take our Life . For this very Reason , I 'le swinge ye , Beat down your Pride and quite unhindge ye : Level all your Bulwarks and Forts , Keep you from Cowardly Resorts . Because we wo'nt fly to your Altars , You persecute us ▪ with Faggots and Halters . I challenge and post you Dons for Base , Thus to bring Ladies into Disgrace . Look to your Hitts , then , Have a Care , We 'l be Revenge'd 'fore you're aware . They say , Threatned Folk live long , If Others ben't for them too strong . We have Black and Blew Arts , To act all sorts of Deadly Parts . I shall demonstrate all your Lies , That walk like Angels in Disguise , Three things there be which should not Jar , The Stage , the Pulpit , and the Bar.

THE WITCHES . CANTO I. MAke not any great Inquiry , Philosophi docent Nihil Scire . To a hollow Trunk lay close your Ear , There 's a Chain fastned to Jove's Chair . Soul of Universe wheels about the Primum Mobile , The Spheres in Consort sing Nobile . The longest Sword , the most overreaching Wit , Get , and dispose Rights as they think fit . Find a Staff to beat a Dog , Get a Butcher to kill a Hog . Jura negat sibi nata ( Pompey sings , ) Nihil non arroga Armis , say Kings . Some Negatives may have Sense , The best Right , is the Present Tense . Mercurius Trismegistus in his Pimander , Observe how strangely his Wits do wander ; You can scarce know a Goose from a Gander : And I dare lay an even Stake , 'T is as hard to discover a Duck from a Drake . Give him good store of Cock-Broth and Gelly , That reckons up Happiness by the Belly . Facile credimus , quod volumus ; Difficile facimus , quod nolumus . Quicquid Libet , Licet ; Quicquid in Buccam venit dicit , Cum dira Libid● moverit Inguen , Fall to a Goose , or a Turky-Cock Pinguem . The Poets Creed , Three hundred Joves , Gods of all sorts of Hatreds and Loves . Apollo drove Admetus's Kine , The back of Europa's Bull did shine . Neptune was Laomedon's Mason ; Medea slew Children of her Husband Jason . Jupiter in the Scene was a Droll , But was worshipped in the Capitol . The Vulgar by their Gods were betray'd , To burn Men , till a Plague was stay'd . The Judgment of the Angurs Bench , Was to sacrifice a Yellow-hair'd Wench . Apollodorus offered a rich Tunick and Pall , To Socrates while he drank up his Gall : And to wrap him in , when dead he should fall ; But the dead Corps , was not Socrates , All. Mens cujusque est quisque , or Every one 's All , The Better Part , we the Person call . Pluto always us'd a Hospitable Bowl , And Aristotle had a dry Soul . Is a dry Soul most Wise ? Tell me not such Rowzing Lies . Some Souls may sink deep in a Slough , Some brave Generals have come from the Plough . Quis docuit Psittaco suum 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 ? Never let an Eunuch Marry . Poets are Men of great Parts , The Belly is a Master of Arts. Variety of Wits , Fine , Search for in Coelius Rhodigine . Sun and Moon are Hermophradites ; Apollo 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Lights . Veioves , Oromazes , Praestigiators , Idols of divers Forms and Natures : For bloody Altars , Babes unborn , Are from their Mothers Bellies torn . Lust and Victims of Humane Blood , Solemn Devotions made good . Menogenes , old Pompey's Cook , Exactly bore his Masters Look ; Publicius for his Son was took : So the basest Slips , by Midwives Lies , Are Ingrafted into Noble Families . An Elephant with a huge Proboscis , Non est longum , à quo nihil demere possis . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 plena , Is a Sorcerer's Catilina . Fasten your Gods in Chains to the Wall , For fear they should run away , or fall . Bar them up with Brazen Doors , Lest they should run abroad to Whores . I remember a Time , when the Tutelar gods In a Counter-scuffle fell at odds . Marcellus's Olive-yard took a flight , And fled over the way in a dark Night : For these and such like Fables , Magick was Capital , by the Twelve Tables . Hercules Labours , so famous in Rhimes , Is the course of the Sun through the Twelve Signs , The true Ancile , or Palladium , Was brought by Aeneas from Troy to Latium . The Plots of Livia were Mysterious , To poyson Augustus and set up Tiberius . Julia his Daughter , and his Niece were both Whores , Sordid Agrippa was turn'd out a Doors . Caius and Lucius their Father Try'd , When in Twelve Months they both dy'd . Those Men , said he , lead happy Lives , That die without Children , or live without Wives . In such black Deeds you must understand , Witches evermore deal under-hand . Wind-Mill headed Egypt turn'd to all sorts of Gods , Steady Rome whipt them with all sorts of Rods. The unlucky Ape got among the Pots , And overturn'd all Dodona's Lots . Aristotle in his Works lay forgotten , Long while after he was dead and Rotten . Saturnus expell'd by his Son a long Spatium , For fear of a Rebel lay hid in Latium . Nero's Quinquennium was a Calm , It turn'd into Blood , that was formerly Balm . Many a Lye , many a Fable , Is engrav'd on the Souls Razed Table . Mensa Philosophica was full of good Fare ; But Coena Pontificia was the most Rare . Judge you , a Toad or a Rat Fly at a Man , Run away from a Cat. The Witches were more Famous in Samaria , Than ever in Lancashire or Bavaria . Should I follow Meanders of Sophisters Race , They would lead me a Wild-Goose Chace .

CANTO II. 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Aborigines , a Gang Of Terrae Filii , that from the Ground sprang . Since that Descending Generations May draw Lots for true Procreations : As Lybians did for Fathers ; so others May as well do the same for Mothers . Filius vulgi , if you come once to Try us , Will come all to one , with Filius Nullius . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . The Common Mother , All can tell ; Our private Dames we know not so well . Into Earth surely all are Resolv'd ; But after Genealogies in doubts are Involv'd . 'T is a Wise Son that knows his Dad ; He that knows his Mum too is a pretty Lad. Tantum Confusio suadet Malorum , When Brats can't bring their true Sires before 'um . He bespatters himself , qui in Coelum spuit , He smothers himself qui in Terram Ruit . Turinus for selling of Smoak , Deserv'd for his Purchase by Vapors to Choak , Orpheus to Boys for being so kind , Was justly murthered by Women-kind . Olympias durst not be counted Joves Whore , For fear Juno should pay her old Score . Cleomenes had the Art To fly in the Air , as swift as a Dart. Souls sing By the Elysian Fountains , And dance behind the Arabian Mountains . Whist , Geese , forbear to talk ; Lambs , keep out of the Foxes Walk . A good Man , they say , is a Common Good ; So is the Devil , in a good Mood . When Castor and Pollux together do shine , Fair Weather Seamen , be merry and Dine : But if single they hap to appear , They are for a Storm , though the Weather be Clear . Facile est addere Inventis , A Fool is seldom Compos Mentis . Ballance the Bottles of the Clouds , Wrap up Borea's Shrouds . Tell me the express Critical Way , That parts , in a Minute , the Light from the Day . The Snow and the Hail , are envelop'd in Clouds , The Rain is poured through Spouts . Mazareth measured Time , When old Saturn was in his Prime . Arcturus will prove the Seamans Guide , When Pleiades all in a Cluster Hide . When Sea-men sail against the Wind , Be sure they leave the Devil behind . Alexander from India wrote To Aristotle , what he had forgot ; That in those Regions the Sun Spake Oracles in the Indian and Greek Tongue . But withal , the Ignorant Moon Spake in the Indian Language alone . Observe how Bees swarm in a Cluster , And how Ants in a Mole-Hill Muster . Once in an Age you may get a Prize , A Venus , by Chance , upon Praenestine Dice . So Virtue by a Lottery comes in , Ten thousand Blanks for a Silver Pin. Neptunes Faith , among the Fables , Approv'd by great Numbers of Votive Tables : But , replies an unlucky Knave , To so many drown'd , how few doth he save ? So many Tables , if hung up , I 'le be bold , All Neptunes Temples could not hold .

CANTO III. You 'le say , I have a brazen Face , To lead you such a Wild-Goose-Chace : To tell you so many Lies , So many Large , so many Minum Deities , Cartesian Feminine Philosophies . I 've dipt my Lips in Fonte Caballino , Told more Tales than Horatio Palavicino . Alexandrian Hypatia , Joves Daughter , Taught better Philosophy than all that came after . The rest , like Hodmadods , drew in their Poles , Like pitiful Worms crept into their Holes . The Roman State thought it no Blur , To celebrate the Funerals of a Coblers Cur. Veritas rectè Representat , Quos Jupiter vult perdere Hos Dementat . Wot you not , how the World Rings Of Castalion , Colophon , Prophetick Springs . Oracles were took with a Spirit Dumb , Ask Questions , and the Answer is , Mum. Nicander the Wizard frighted 'um well , And Pythia was took Mad in her Cell : So all the Colledge of Priests were moapt , After they had in Delphos Secrets groapt . Virgin Menstrua's , the Passive Stock , To the obstructed Matrix Flock . For want of the Plastick Male Seed , Rude Lumps , like Cubs , of Flesh do breed . The Golden Waters of the Powder of Calf , Made Judas Gold-Beards to make you Laugh . So came Knaves so well to be known , When their Carret-Beards were grown . The Load-Stone of Temporal Interest , Strains Courtesie with Conscience , all for the Best . The Idols of Devils , of sanctified Mettals , Were boldly melted into Pans and Kettles . Dull-pated Vulcan , club Footed and Fisted , Had the luck with fair Venus to be Twisted . Hyperborean Chimaera's clamber in Altum , Etsi Natura nihil agit per Saltum . The Sun keeps the Self-same Station , And Influences ever since the Creation . The Moon hath the very same Spots in her Face , Ladies black Patches wear to her disgrace . Venus hath always had her Mole , Mercury did ever use to Droll . If the Sky would fall , we should catch Larks , In Gaming-Schools are good store of Sharks . Hunger-gut Po●tasters , a Crew , Like Dogs lick up Blind Homer's Spew . Antipodes walk Foot to Foot , True , The Devil will be sure to have his Due . The Infallible Three-Footed-Stool , The Witty Tripos is turn'd Fool. Cybels Priests are obscene Rogues and Whores , Bacchus his Salii are turn'd out a Doors . Alexander's Empire , for all his great Bragments , How quickly it crumbled into Fragments . While his Captains were a Plotting , His stinking Corps lay above-ground Rotting . And he himself dyed by Potting . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Wild People are seldom 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Daemons , as Old Sophies clatter , Stick close to , and feed upon Matter . But do they drink Wine or Water ? I 'de as lieve hear a Magpy Chatter . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Synesius sings , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Pretty Things . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , I 'le assure you ; Believe it , or I 'le ne're endure you . So Tertullians Mistress said , Who saw Souls , ( for she was a Maid , ) In all colours and shapes , and was not afraid . I rather think , the Witch betray'd . Averroës tells us Wonders , That Souls are Unities and Numbers . A Colledge of Virtuosi can never display , How the Earth or Sun lay at Anchor a Day ; Was it for fear he should run away ? How he curses poor Algazel , For vain Philosophy , to the Pit of Hell . The Mind , he tells him what he lackt , Not the Fancy , should be abstract . Another Blade , all in a Tatter , Made Spirits and Bodies all Matter ; This 't is to shoot 'twixt Wind and Water . Averroës chides Avicen , In Praedicaments , from One to Ten. There is but one Transcendent Ens , From which all Numbers do commence . I 'le assure you , 't is excellent Sense , For Multitude find Mood and Tense : You may do it without Expence ; No Body has hit upon it since .

CANTO IV. Magi were begot of their Mothers , Mingled together with Sisters and Brothers . Mithridates his Polyphagia and Polypotia , Was True , as St. George of Cappadocia . An Mulier confert ad Generationem ? An Purpura confert ad Venerationem ? Mulier semper aut amat , aut odit , Nihil tertium costodit ; But the best Cheese , Mus corrodit . Quere , If any Woman kind Were ever Bald before or behind ? Quere , What is most mens Delight ? Women in Summer have most Appetite . Mulieres Glabrae & Barbatae , Lenones in Procinctû state . Formicae , minùs quàm Mares , Venosae , Anûs Puellis magis Exosae . Women are most free from Gouts , Yet they sit most pricking of Clouts ; But Men have the most tearing Bouts , There never will be an end of Doubts . Womens Inferna are Crassiora , Womens Superna are Formosiora . In Vmbilicis sedet Libido , Aeneam deperiit Dido . A Senate of Women sate at Rome ; But the wisest sort stay'd at Home . They that could no Secrets forbear , Would fainest be in the Confessors Chair . O Pythagoras ! O Palaemon ! One of you said the World was a Daemon . Partridges , give me leave , The Question is , how they conceive ? 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Spidars Lawn , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Second Notions without Sense , Distinctions without sance Difference , So Dunce Doctors commence . Metaphors , Cadences , and Twangs , Make florid Tropical Harangues . Quintilian , Ciceronian styles , Sentences of half Miles , May be leap'd over by Lame Giles . Lypsius had small Command , In short Paragraphs of Sand. Lana Caprina's not fit for Clothing , Curiously wrought , is good for Nothing . Da veniam aetati , for pregnant Wits , Poets are good at girds and fits . Exceptio confirmat Regulam in non Exceptis , Deceptio confirmat Fraudem in non Deceptis . The Devil is not so black , as he 's painted ; St. Dunstan is not so white , as he is Sainted . I fear Sanctified Virgins are tainted , With these I was never acquainted . Indian Rats pregnant in Dams Bellies , All my delight is in Cock-Broths and Gellies . I presume you 'l count me a Fool , For Writing in Burlesque or Ridicule ; 'T is because I could get no better Tool . Satyrs blow hot and cold , Serpents and Eagles are young and old ; Women at the Ducking-Stool can Scold . At the Pope's Bull and Scotch Heifer yoaked , The Devils in Hell are all provoked ; Because by them they are like to be choaked . Flectere si nequeo Superos Acheronta movebo , I have Commenc'd at Salamanca and Toledo . Chad eat more Chees an Chaddit , Jack would wipe's Nose if he had it . The Sawce for a Cony is good for a Rabbit ; If a good Cause won't dye , I hope a Lawyer can Stab it . I don 't like your Murdering Prayers , Or to break my Neck down Stairs . Scholars must not go to Fairs ; Take'um Proctor , Cap'um , pull'um by the Ears ; Well rhim'd Tutor , Brains and Stairs . Inter Regem & Tyrannum non discernunt Graeci , Distinguish Antipodes and Antoeci . Alexander's Sword , 't was no wonder , Cut the Gordian Knot asunder . Blochardus attackt the Castle Enchanted , The Old Capitol was Haunted : There are Spirits , take it for granted ; And Witches too , if Wit be not wanted . Get me a Pick-lock for the Law , I 'le find in Solon , or Lycurgus , a Flaw . I 'le solve a Case better than Navar , Till my very Brains do Jar. Old Vlpian , Papinian , Barto●us , Caius Wesembec do but Cajole us . Do , maintain it with a Brazen Face , Dominion is founded on Grace . O Rare Polla , uxor Polla , Get better Pot Herbs , Mors in olla . Nos numerus sumus , & magno damnamur Atridi , I don't like Fasting upon Friday . Terrae onus , frages consumere Nati , Excellently spoke by Diodati . Quid vis impunè facere , Regium est , Rebellium in Populo Privilegium est . Mahomet's Horns half Fire , half Snow , Tell me a Tale of a Royston Crow , How , an if this no Body must know ? I long those Janus Faces to discover , That cry one side , and laugh on the other . At this Axiom , Momus Risit , Qui Beneficium accepit Libertatem amisit , Censor Morum , Cato Redivivus , We lack such Confessors to shrive us . Hugh Peters , a Wry-neck'd R●gue , 'Mong all the Traytors his Head carries the Vogue . I reckon the Stellite●ticks Among the Students Academicks . Tom Triplet and Tom Coriot in Shackles , Were whipt for Vniversity Rake hells . Jurisconsultorum Ignoramus , Among the Petifoggers is famous . All 's well , that ends well , they say it follows ; All 's bad , that ends bad , at the Gallows . Divide the Lions Skin , before he be dead , Give away your Estates , and beg your Bread ; Or take a Beetle , and knock you on the Head . A Haltar , or Faggot , chuse you which , If ye have a mind to turn Witch . Hang a Taylor , that can't Stich Upon the Sign of the Dog and Bitch . Our Profession is never Rich , Give a Thief-Hostler a Switch . A lowzy Taylor must dye in a Ditch , Be hang'd or damn'd , choose you which . I hear the sound upon a Low-string , Mahomet's Doctrine of the Bow-string . The Black Box , the Dwarfs and Mutes , Justice and Honesty con●utes . Are you such Fools ye Rich Bashaws , To be shot at , like Jack-Daws . When you have serv'd a Tyrants Will , Suffer him your Bloods to spill . If you like this Trade so well , Next is to serve a Prentiship in Hell . Paulus the Praetor was counted a Sot , For taking up a Chamber-Pot , With that Hand that wore Rings , Engrav'd with Caesars and Kings . Jove would be serv'd by none but Haebe , Young Ganymede and fair Phaebe . Cleombrotus ravisht with a Scrowl , That contain'd the Immortality of the Soul , Had better ta'ne a chirping Bowl , Velles and Infules , words of Commission , Expressing signs of Submission . Vlysses and Ajax mournful Faces , Zeuxis describ'd with full Graces , For Iphigenia , but because his Skill did fail , For Agamemnon he drew a Vail . Alcestus her Husband Admetis reliev'd ; By her dying , his death she Repriev'd . Mecenas and Codrus , the more 's the pity , Ventur'd ( like Fools ) to dye for their City . Marius sacrific'd Calphurnia his Daughter , To the fury of the Cymbrick slaughter , For which he might be call'd Fool ever after . Would you have it try'd by their Peers , Lillies have no Seed , but their Tears . In Elysium you 'l meet with good Lull , Cups of Nectar and Ambrosia , always full . Arithmeticians can exactly probe , How may Corns of Dust will make up the Globe ; And how many Grains may be spent , To fill the Concavity up to the Firmament : As Archimedes did the Number of Sands , That stop the Oceans Commands . The still-Sow eats up all the Draught , The simpring Wench is always Naught . They say , Curst Cows have short Horns . Tender Feet can't tread upon Thorns , He that enters Trophonius's Grotto , Must read the superscribed Motto . Of Lethe and Mnemosyne take each a Cup , Resolve to drink 'um both sheer up . Resolve to forget all Sorrow ; But be sure to be reveng'd to Morrow , And never remember to pay what you borrow . A sort of Fools I may not smother , That choose to dye one for another . Others cast the unlucky Lot , Which of the two must go to the Pot. 'T is far better and more gain , For Pages to suffer their own Masters Pain . Others out of pure Civility , For some Friend offer to dye : No body knows the reason why ; I 'de as lieve they should do so , as I. We understand better things , To kill , rather than to dye for Kings . Such Principles we teach , All we can to over-reach , And yet seem to make no Breach . To prevent all Mischief still , By doing all manner of Ill , Under pretence of Love and good Will. Learn of us , if you 'd be safe , At your best Friend , draw the Dagger Ralph . Never stand , Shall I , shall I's . The Aggressors make the Sallies , So do the Rogues of the Algier Gallies . Free Booters all , this is the work Of the Tartar and the Turk . Viis & Modis , do all ye are able To steal the Steed , and shut the Stable ; To sink the Ship and cut the Cable . In your Anger , pardon no Man , In your Lust spare no Woman . If like us , you would be wise , Regard no Age , Sex , or Size ; If you fear pity , shut your Eyes . The drinking , damming , roaring Gang , In my Judgment are fitter to Hang ; Than to bear any Rule or Command O're sober Men , by Sea or Land . If their rise Hatred among Friends , And you can't handsomly compass your Ends. Come to us , though they look never so big , I 'le warrant you , they shall have a Fig. Let us alone to do your Job , Better than openly Kill or Rob. Hipti , Hopti , Talere Hoo , You shall have one , you shall ha'e two , You shall have what y' have a mind to do . Is not this a pleasant Trade , To ride your Horse to a Jade ? You may prove a second Jack Cade . And to be sure to be well paid , 〈…〉 never be over-laid . This is to call a Spade , a Spade , Better than a dull roguing Blade . Get you to a Cunning-Man , He 'l conjure for you , all he can , And do more business than Cup and Kan . They be dull Rogues , that Swear and Swagger , And cry , Jemmy , draw thy Dagger ; And although they have no Lands , Challenge Cowards to Callis Sands . These Tricks a Witch understands Better than Questions and Commands : Better than forging Bills or Bonds , Or putting Deeds in Scriveners hands . Never more to be seen , Or to play at King and Queen ; Rarely come off , Little Tom Green . This is fair Play above Board , To qualifie a Knight or Lord , As a tender Conscience may well afford . Oportet Imperatorem mori stantem , Oportet Oratorem mori orantem ; Sed melius est amare Amantem . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . States or Common-wealths be gone Praestò , Monarchy's the best Manifesto . Oderint dum metuunt , the Tyrant roars , Keep in Subjection , but destroy not the Boars . Are my Pains really more or less , For my Companions in Distress ? Indeed , if my Friends are at ease , While I suffer , that may please : And they may comfort me the more , When themselves feel no Sore . But , if all together roar and yell , What comfort is in such a Hell ? My Friends Grief is grown An Addition to mine own . Suffer alone , or if you had rather , Suffer with others , choose you whether . But , if I delight in Strangers groans , As I may do in their Thrones : United Comforts I shall find , Far better than Sorrows combin'd . Have a care Court-Rats , Of being took by City-Cats . Porphyrogenitus , sweet as Amber . Was begot in the Purple Chamber ; To Princes Thrones you must not clamber . India worships the Rising-Sun , America is undone . Asinius Pollio , to a Slave that for Death did cry , Said , Nondum tecum in gratiam redii . No Statesman est Semper idem , Haud diu servat fortuna fidem . By Moon in Conjunction with Sol sped , Once in a Month a New Moon is bred , 'T is long since he got her Maiden-head . Of Moon-Rabbits and Pigeons we may have good Cheer , They Litter Thirteen Months in the Year . When did the Planets or Stars fix so fast , Multiply so , from first to last ? We shall not see that Day in haste , They are such Tapers as never waste . Keeping their Cases in which they were cast , Holding their own in all Ages past . And so they will for ever last , Of Constellations there will be no waste . The Tartar , when Din'd in mighty State , Sounds a Trumpet at his Gate ; To give leave to all Sinners , After him , in good Manners , to take their Dinners . Therefore , if you have but a Brown-Crust , Or be ne're so hungry , eat if you durst ; But we 'l venture , let him do his worst . Pinguedinem Vrsae deponunt , Eat their Flesh , if you will , I 'le ha' none on 't . What 's Plenilunium Prosobolon ? What 's an Hospital Triobolon ? Podogram curat Cydnus Fluvius , The best Architect was Vitruvius ; The best Casuist was Covarruvius . Puellae Venenosae , take heed , For they say , There is such a Breed . Four-footed Creatures stand most sure , A Red-hair'd Wench I cannot endure . An Ass spake when Romulus and Remus were born , As sure as a Cuckold wears a Horn. If you say , I 'm one , I 'le take it in Scorn , And challenge you to the Field to morrow Morn . Senectus Animae Propria Aetas , We are most of us Old , I hope you won't eat us . Sol aurea Gleba , but give me the Ore Of Gold indeed , and I shall never be Poor , Let Sol be what he will , I 'le desire no more . Sepulchral Dogs , Sepulchral Men , I love the Flesh of a Capon or Hen. Stygian Water nothing can hold , But the Hoof of a Hackney-Horse that is old . Figura Triplex of a Voice , Shew me but one , I 'le take my Choice , Many a Man , if you mind him , May be hang'd for leaving his Drink behind him . Bacchus and Silenus dy'd by Quaffing , Zeuxis the Painter dy'd with Laughing . Why do Lovers pray to the Moon ? Why do Lubbars lye a Bed till Noon ? Who put on Agamemnon's close-Coat , While Clytemnestra cut his Throat ? Who sent Hercules to the Dark , By putting on a poyson'd Sark ? Are these such Creatures , by Yea and Nay , As live but the life of one poor Day ? Whither , when we have left seeing , We do forthwith slide out of Being . Genii of Tunicks have need , And Vehicles to carry them with speed . Do you imagine they can bleed ; Or on Fumes of Sacrifices feed ? Or on nasty Fogs and Steams , In Caverns , unexhaled by Sun-Beams . The Zabii hold down their Noses , To scent Incense sweeter than Roses . Delight to sit in Witches Laps , And from black Teats suck poysonous Paps . In what Conditions or Stations , Are Souls fled from their Habitations ? Do they retire to other Nations ? How shall we send 'um Commendations ? How a Gnat sends forth a Hum , If she sings , Come Pudding come . From her Throat , or from her Bum ? An Answer from Socrates must come : So his Podex is a Pipe or a Drum ; To the Philosopher give a Hum. 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , our drunken Motto , When we Feast in a Sphinges Grotto . What think you of those Throngs and Crouds Of Goddesses , the Venerable Clouds ? They jumble together in Ruts , Like the Grumbling in the Guts . There 's Thunder , Rain , Hail and Snow , And Winds , that make Seas overflow . The Experiment is a Paunch , Whence Wind and Dirt flies by the stroke of a Lance. Chaos , Nubes and Lingua , never fear 'um , Sint Tria Primordia Rerum . No less Man says thus , than Socrates , Wiser than Galen or Hypocrates . Amphyctionick Councels Meet In Thermopylae and Delphos Street . For Love to Souls is their Debate , And to Barbarians for Hate ; Methinks they Stalk it in great State . Areopagus was a famous Court , For the Ostracism Sport . And at the Old Olympick Games , Met many Proper , Gallant Dames . Champions got Crowns of Bays , Ornaments of Honour and Praise . Ladies conquer'd in the Field , By Knights and Squires , without Sword or Shield . Why should you Men offer to Castrate us , Eunuchate and Effeminate us . No fear you should Cuckolate us , We shall ne're have Whiskers or Muschato's : But we may be Even with you agen , For Women can make themselves Men. What was the Pathick Sporus , A Rogue that us'd to Jade and Bewhore us , Till he was asham'd to come before us . Pythagoras abstain'd from Beans ; More need to abstain from Rogues and Queens . A Priest may not touch them in Pontificalibus , But in Sacrificiis Penetralibus . Formicae Castratae , Hey Ho , I wonder why it should be so . This is the Reason , I very well know , From us to Boys they are minded to go . Nay , get you gon with a Vengeance to Beasts , And to Fowls , if you will , when th' have Feather'd their Nests . I do not like such Scornful Jests , To take up our Smocks to hide our Breasts . Candaules boasted of his Fair Wife , Shew'd her naked to the Life , To Gyges , that had the famous Ring , Who Cuckold him for it , like a King ; Was there ever such a Thing ? Manus Ridens had no Rings ; The Swan dies , if she Sings . Cardan his Body did so Rarisie , When he would , to fall into Aphairesie . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 is the Great Year , When Signs in the Zodiack the same appear . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 is the Isle of Dogs , Gadaren is the Land of Hogs ; But Egypt is the Land of Frogs . Variety , if you want . For Sallads , take the Sensitive Plant. 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 Fine , Antistites of Sacra Eleusine . 'T was a Horrid Effatum , Genitale Membru● adoratum . Lupercalia 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Rufi Boves , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Is not all this 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . The Cross Bull put Germ inicus to a stand , Refusing a Lock of Hay from his fair Hand . But the Life of Eudoxus Cnidius was bespoke , By the kind Bull 's licking his Coat . Nilus Water , with Hony mixt , Plenty and Peace in Egypt fixt . Gross Vapours stinking , as one could wish , For Daemons will make a rare Dish . Perfumes and Fat are very good Food ; But they most delight in Blood . Tho Gods gaping for Altars Smoak , They drink like Flyes , and never choak . If this Truth any denies , Beelzebub is the God of Flies . Crocodiles , Goats , Dogs and Cats , All Worship had , with Mice and Rats . Azazel , Bless us , O Palaemon ! Must be some extraordinary Daemon . Dii Averruncani , Oromazes , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Aremanes , Lucidi & Tenebrosi , Horridi & Formosi . Isys , Osyris , are serv'd in State ; But Typhon , O Typhon , all Hate : All Harm to all Creatures on him they lay , All Errors of Nature , and all Decay ; And from Him , all run away . Typhone multiplicior Bellua , Typhone nullus voracior Helluo . Indians Sacrifice to this Fiend , To pacifie their Foe , and make him their Friend . All the Race of cursed Cham , Are still afraid of Old Sam. To him they Sacrifice an Ass , The first Trumpeter that ever was ; Which the Copti turn'd to Grass . Watery or Fiery Lustrations , Purge the Sins of all Nations . Aegyptian and Assyrian Schemes , Are the dark Chronologers Themes . I might deserve Fortuna Capistri , If I should Jurare in Verba Magistri . Egypt was once all Waters , Which since hath bred , Wife Sons and Daughters . We are well taught ex Abundanti , Quòd motus non fit in Instanti . ‘ Y' have turn'd me out of my Seven Senses , ‘ And made me wander like the Frenzies . Asini Imperium is fit for Works , Lunati Calcei fit the Turks . Mulier sine Viro concepta , Nondum satis est correpta . 'T is truly said , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , And as true , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Woman , the Rib , was made a Dart , And shot the poor Man to the Heart . Vulcan , the Ancient God of Fire , Is no less than the Sun 's own Sire : This Vulcan was a brave Squire , Mars did tame him in his Ire . Res mente existunt , I find , Things are created in the Mind ▪ Vulcan , and his Logger-head Dolts , In Aetna's Forge beat Thunderbolts .

CANTO V. Menes , the first Egyptian King , Mercury his Son , that Witty Thing : From him Fifty two Kings liv'd in Disgrace , In One thousand four hundred years space . Sesostris in State , give him his due , Four Archontes his Chariot drew . Five hundred years to the Dynasty of Pastors , No Trade , nor War then , nor sad Diasters . Thebanes , Thinites , Memphit 's Names , All of them got Renowned Fames . Saturn was Noah , Hammon , Cham ; This , Thoth , Thanes ( Trim , Tram. ) Apis , Isys , Osyris , Adonis , Infinite sorts of Tories , and Tonies . Deities for Numbers , Even or Od , Every Attribute was a God . Not so much 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 Right , As 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Sight . Three hundred Joves , Varro makes ; These were Popular Mistakes . Aegyptian Hieroglyphicks , Some were Hierogrammaticks : Others Hierophylacticks , Belong these to Opticks or Tacticks ? Of these , some were Curiologicks , For Elements or Signs , Symbolicks . Hence Monstrosa simulachra came , Jupiter wore the Head of a Ram. So Alexander would be painted , Because he had a mind to be Sainted ; So came Men with Gods acquainted . Mercurius's Figure , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 Audacis , Cause Nihil est , Cane sagacius . All Gods from Egypt crept into Greece , And there they got the Golden Fleece . Pluto got the Chief 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , The best is 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Medicines and Architectures , Were Egyptian Projectures . Gypsies , Egyptians to this day , Are Prophets and Doctors , given that way . Egypt's the old Nurse of all Parts , Of Magick and Syderial Arts. The Spawn of wandring Prophets tell Fortunes , look to your Pockets well . You need not light so many Tapers , Stone and Wood Statues cut no C●pers , They 'l never fight at Swords and Rapiers . Nec Dii indigent Lumi●e , Pisces semper natant Flumine : Nec homines carent Fuligine , Gold and Silver 's eat up with Rubigine . Sues coëunt Lun● Decrescente , The Masters agree , from One to Twenty . Lens Luctum praesagit , you must be Beat , If you presume any Beans to eat . Lavare , Jejunare & esse in Casto , Are Preparatives in Fasto . Proper for sober Sacrificantes , Flamines , Jerophantes ; Not for mad Salii Corybantes . ‘ Don't disturb my poor weak Senses ; ‘ If I should lack Wit , I lack Expences . Odors , stinking and fragrant , For Spirits fixt , and Spirits vagrant . For Spirits fat , and Spirits lean , For Spirits foul , and Spirits clean . But be sure , you nor see , nor touch a Bean ; From that Food I must you wean . Sound operates either by Fright , Creating Horror or Delight : Some by Day and some by Night , Some play Bo-peep least in Sight . Some Devils are very shy ; Some are fearful , roar and cry , And they say , some Spirits dye . Physian Fields are aloft in the Moon , The Sophister was up too soon . Pythagoras saw Hesiod's Soul ty'd To Brass-Pillars , wept and cry'd ; For fear like a new married Bride , That had nothing to lose , beside Her Maiden-head , which she could not hide . And truly never was deny'd ; The Maid was willing , when she try'd , Homer's Soul hung all upon Trees , With Serpents stinging worse than Bees , For blasting the Gods and Goddesses . 'T is too true , I 'le tell you but so , Omnia plena Animarum & Dearum too . For the best Transmigrations ne're Quarrel , 'T is either into a Lion or a Lawrel ; Why not so well into a Hogshead , or Barrel ? Souls for a year are thrown into Tartar , And come out thence most pure ever after . I 'm not able to forbear Laughter , Tho I had there a Son or a Daughter . Me thinks I see the poor Creatures lying , Like Herrings upon Gridirons frying ; Never dead , but always dying . This was the Purgatory of Plato , A wiser Man than e're was Cato . Dodona's Golden , speaking Grove , With Memnon's speaking-Stone strove : I wonder how such Talk may prove , Matters of State , or Matters of Love . Fables of C●esias are full as Evil , As those of Sir John Mandevill . The Murosites , volunt , nolunt , Mures & Sorices colunt . Amasis took Cyprus by force of Arms , Marcht with the Gods to serve for Charms , To keep them from their Enemies Harms . And to make his Souldiers Valiants , Never to yield , nor lose their God Gallants . At Athens , by Pythia's Charge , Lustration was to be made at Large . All the White and Black Sheep , Brought to Areopagus to keep . From thence let loose , where they begin to Falter , And couch for Rest , there build an Altar . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , in every Street , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , where ever they meet . Thales Miletus , Pittacus Mytilenus , Solon Atheniensis , Bias Prieneus , Cleobulus Lynda , Myson Chereus . Chilon Lacedemonius : These , ( Kiss my Britch , ) were the Seven Wise Men of Greece . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , As wise as ever spake Sagan . Sentences in Apollo's Temple wrote , Forsooth , lest they should be forgot . Of Sorrows , some are Fat , some Lean , 'Twixt both , Jack and Gill lick the Platter clean . Hang Care , Cast away Sorrow , Eat , Drink and Play , and Dye to Morrow . Eat Plover , Carp , Partridge and Pheasant , A short Life and a Pleasant . ‘ My Muse is turn'd all Witch , ‘ And Barks the Language of a Bitch . The Sybils were the wisest Crew , Of all the Witches , I ever knew , All their Prophecies were True . Augurs and Magi to them were but Asses , And so were ( Whores all ) the Vestal Lasses . Clouds were the best Goddesses of Wonder , 'T is they that Rain , Hail , Snow and Thunder . The most can be said , i● that Jove Pisses , And shoots Bolts , but often misses . Wonder not we are so on Mischief bent , For we are all by the Devil sent . We are in League with him by Blood , Never to do any Good ; Always in a mad Mood . The Stoicks are much of our kind , For Envy and Malice of Mind . The Cynick is a Surly Cur , He Bays and Bites at every Flur . ‘ We must do Mischief , so we must , ‘ Be Revenged , though we burst . ‘ Pray consider , we kill Pigs , ‘ If you 'l eat 'um , we 'l dance Jiggs , ‘ Feast all the Tories and Whigs .

CANTO VI. There 's a more Subtil , damned Crew , That never yet gave man his Due . Spare no Man that dares them Trust , Nor no Woman in their Lust ; If you confide , dye you must . These have given the Devil a Fee , And serve him , as much as we . Nor do we for Excuses plead , We know we are a Hellish Breed ; Of both , let Honest men take heed . Undermining Rogues and Whores , Fit to be kickt out of Honest mens Doors . Sophisters for contrary Votes , Ready to cut one anothers Throats . Agoniae nulla Causa Sapienti , Turn us back to As in Praesenti . Alexander , because his Mis dy'd , Burnt Esculapius's Temple Pride : Himself of his Lust he never deny'd . Why should Histrios be Rogues and Whores , When maintain'd by Publick Stores ? Senators in Theatres had Seats , To behold therein Pleasant Feats . Nothing 's more flexible than the Soul , Every way to turn and roul . A liberal Soul is free and Raptive , And can never be taken Captive . Cartez painted her exact Feature , By calling her a Thinking Creature . O , 't was a most Rare Expression ! Brave Boy ! take out another Lesson . Benè agere , Regium est , & malè audire , For these Antisthenes I admire ye . Thus we pick up rotten Rags , And patch 'um up to cloath our Hags . The Valiant Wrestler chose rather to dye , Than leave the Stage , or his Virility . The Body 's a Slave à Potentiori , Argumentum à Fortiori . The blind Will admits no Reins ; Dunces will take no pains . Drones shall get no gains , A new Cloth has no stains . Our Bodies are refined Clay ; ‛ There they have claw'd it away , 'T is such stuff as the Asses Bray . Thus I trifle away the Time , In making many a simple Rhime . 'T is the Philosophers Crime ; O , they are all in their Prime . Aristippus hates all Cynicks ; We Witches love all Clynicks . I am not pleased with Epicurus , Because his Sect could ne're endure us . He forbad us to get Brats , Or bear Offices , worse than Dogs and Cats . He places all Honesty in Opinion ; But hang him , he lov'd his Minion . He says , the Gods for Men took no Care ; How then , I pray , shall Women Fare ? Lacedemonians were Lions at home , Ephesians Foxes : There 's no room For Witches in these two Nations ; Who can like such cross Perswasions . Morbus est pars vitae , ut Ambulatio ; A Rare Sentence ! & Navigatio . Women are Common , say you so , No Man then can his own Wife can know . Omnes inviti peccant , O Will ! Then we are all Innocent still . Opus Philosophi abjicere Opinionem , Opus Fallacis denegare Nomon . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , One of these two takes away Sin . But tell me when I must begin , Or I shall have no power to Spin. Men by Reason are as good as the Gods ; How then came there to be such odds ? A Slave in mind , though manumitted , Is ever for a Slave fitted ; Who ever was better Witted ? Socrates never changed his Face , And never mended his Pace , And did all things with a Grace : I 'm sure he came of a bold Race . A Numen promised him , to defend Whomsoever he should Reprehend . Of every thing there are two Handles ; O , for Joy sight up all the Candles ! I marry , Epictetus , you have hit it , This Invective desires to be Spitted , Roasted , and larded with precious Sawce , And serv'd up for Kings with great Applause . To please Harlots , all over shave ; But how'l ye do to please a Knave ? He 'l ne're rest , but in his Grave ; Good speed thither may they all have . The Blews that in the Sky we see , Are they not Waters , like the Sea ? Aegyptians were all Physians , The Greeks all Dancers or Musicians . The Persians all Magicians , How of different Dispositions ? Xantippe was a plaguy Scold ; The Reason , Socrates was Old . Wise men prostituted their Wives , Cuckolds all lead pleasant Lives . Aristippus on the Ground Dionysius would Greet , Because his Ears were in his Feet . Who but a Philosopher could so have hitted , Others are over , but under-witted . Archytas , forsooth invented the Cube , And why not find out the Longitude ? Beans were upon rare Grounds forbidden , Because they resembled Secrets hidden ; They that eat them deserve to be chidden : Or because they represented Hell Gates , Which none dare bar up , but the Fates . These are Arguments at strange Rates , I hope they will not scruple at Dates .

CANTO VII . ‘ They say , a Womans red-Rag is well hung ; ‘ But this is the dullest Muse that e're spake with a Tongue . ‘ For my part , hitherto the Song is well sung , ‘ And I 'le Rake no more in this nasty Dung . ‘ I 'le see 'um hang'd or damn'd , before ‘ I 'le trouble my self with the Sophies any more . ‘ This kind of Hotch-potch-Stuff , ‘ Is for Country Bumkins , rough and enough . ‘ Because my Muse is so damnable Dull , ‘ I 'le turn her off , and take another , so I wull . ‘ Still a Womans Tongue is nimble , ‘ As a Taylors Needle and Thimble : ‘ If it be , Mine has had so many Twinges . ‘ That 't is almost off the Hinges . ‘ If I had once done with these sad Wights , ‘ My Wits could soon come again to Rights . Where the Soul lodges , 't is an Art , In the Metropolis of Head or Heart ? What is the Matter of the Sphaeres , Solid or Fluid , ask the Bears ? If with Daemons we be acquainted , 'T is a rare thing to be Sainted . You see how Constellations are Painted , Wise men with Toys are too much Tainted . Cartez Glandula hangs in the Brain , The Fancy of a Dull Swain , All Figures it doth entertain . But it proves Labour in vain , To see how they go and come again , And put the poor Noddle to pain ; There 's no room for the King of Spain . ‘ If I fall more into the Philosopher's Lot , ‘ 'T is the right way to be a Dunce or Sot , ‘ As they must be that love the Pot. The great Spirit hight 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Will never turn into Carrion , The Circle by a Point of Steel , Turns round the Center , like a Wheel . Take heed , for you may Evade it , Definitum in Definitionem non ●adit . This Notion came by Inspiration , Old Bald-pate Time is a Duration . A Wise-man may wish his Body of Limbs bereft , That his Soul may be in all the rest that are left . The Stoicks Drop , no bigger than a Pea , Prov'd equal with the Ocean Sea . Gemmae , Lapilli , & Terrae Minutales , Are Philosophick Mysteries Capitales . The lesser the Body , the lesser the Space , The most Wit is in the least Place . Let all these come Face to Face , Before 'um I 'le carry the Mace . Protagoras found out this Treasure , Man is of all things the True Measure . Many things were invented for Pleasure , Especially by Idle-heads , that had leisure . Jerom ground his Teeth , 't is a Jeer , To teach him speak Oriental Tongues cleer . Timaeus in Wit did abound , Calling the Intellect , a Circle Round . He made the Insects all Spirits , Who shall reward him for his Merits ? An Indivisible is more than a Point , To roast an Ox , is more than a Joynt , To drink up a Gallon , is more than a Pint. These are such Artists as never were , Cut a Feather , split a Hair : Hit a Bird flying , Make an Eel long a dying , Tho she be flaw'd , Roasting or Frying ; Take a Graecian always Lying . To Turn and Tune Orbs , the Intelligences Take pains , but are at no Expences , Indivisibles may be numbred , ‘ Think how my Idle Pate's encombred , ‘ How long in Dreaming have I slumbred ? Phantasms are the Souls Clouds , Matter is the Daemons Vehicles and Shrowds . Scaliger's Subtilty , I know what he did lack , Turn'd him often upon his Back ; Poor Man wanted a Cup of Sack . A Point Mathematical wants Parts , Other Points may be divided by Arts , Turn up the Knave of Clubs , or Ace of Harts . Philosophers , a Devil choak 'um , Say Lumen non habet Locum . They have all Wit at Command , But they play basely under-hand ; I 'le never trust 'um by Sea or Land . Philoponus was kind to Materia Prima , Gave it a Form , a Summo ad Ima . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Upon every Lye you Intrude us . Did Algazel make a Bull , Calling Matter , the Moon at the Full ? Mathematicians and Melancholicks , Resemble Wizards for their Frolicks . Rowze up , if you be all in a Slumber , For Multitude is more than Number . Moschus , the Phoenix-Inventor of Atoms , Made the Danaides Tubs without Bottoms . Arithmeticians , take it for no Disgrace , If Numbers reckoned in no Place . Nescio's a Word of an Ingenuous Mind , Candid , when the Truth you can't find . Would you think it , fair Lady Maia , That e're Orpheus interpreted Isaiah . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Aratus agrees with Virgil's Contilena , Both held , Jovis omnia Plena . Pliny speaks very Cunningly , Of all the Properties of a Flea . So did Aristaphanes too , Abuse Socrates , having less to do , Three hundred and eighty Words , says Petron , In form of a Triangular 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . ‘ Would you think it , Brave Boys . ‘ Wise-men should ever invent such Toys ? Ask Queen Mab , or King Oberon , What means the Stoicks 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Tell me , or you shall be suspended , Whither Spirits be Extended ? How wise Apuleius was , With his Philosophick Ass ? A Dream put Aristotle out of Breath , A Meteor , he call'd it , 'twixt Life and Death . An Quid sit Frustrà , an Datur Vacuum ? Fill the Pot Eedy , Supernaculum , A Blazing Star's a Rare Spectaculum . Take off your Cups , for so we Read it , Os Homini Sublime Dedit . Anima Tota in Toto , sed quâ Arte ? Et Tota in qualibet Parte . Cut off a Leg or an Arm , And it shall do the Soul no Harm . Because it is such an Elf , As can shrink into its Self . Sensûs Communis Quaenam est Ratio ? An datur Corporum Procreatio ? Porphyrius was out of his Senses , In Copulation with th' Intelligences . Avennazar the Arabian Fool , Was taught with him in the same School . ‘ Now rise up Bungy , rouze up Towzer , ‘ And at 'um , for here comes many a Rowzer . Timochus , after Socrates his Master dy'd , Affected his Daemon out of Pride . Went down into Tryphonius's Den , Two Nights and a Day , and came home agen . What he dream'd , he saw and heard , Of Souls , he was not at all afeard . Some Souls were sunk whole in Voluptuous Sense , Others but half-way did dispense . The like Fancies did Scipio Dream , Not half so good as Curds and Cream . Souls now and then it seems did scramble , 'Mong Stars and Planets had a mind to Ramble . Penetratio Corporum is mighty Proud , For highest Rooms to thrust and crow'd . Tell me how more Matter is in a handful of Clay , Than in two of Water , which manner of way ? In those Extra-Mundane Spaces , How Intelligences take Places . Spatium in Mundo , non Mundus in Spatio , It is good Rhime , but Quaenam est Ratio ? Let all your Disputes alone , There can be no more Worlds than One. Thus all together upon one Tree , Several Fruits you seldom see . ‘ Shew me another Congregation , ‘ Besides ours , of the same Perswasion : ‘ When you in Wickedness agree , ‘ So well as do Hell and We. ‘ Fewer Witches there need to be , ‘ And fewer Daemons you will see . ‘ Tyburn and every Gallow-Tree , ‘ Will far less frequented be . Now break up their Quarters , the Rogues have a Hogo , They 're almost choakt in Terrâ del Fogo . Cicero , ycleped Tullius , Came short of the Wit of Raymundus Lullius : Who travell'd with Alsted all the Round Way Of Sciences Encyclopaedia . The rest like Block-heads made a stay , And for fear of more Work , ran all away . At the North-Pole 't will be made to appear , That Whales are cheap , and Sprats be dear : Dogs are dumb to us , and squat on their Britch , A Blood-hound never yet Sented a Witch . Aristotle's Brass-Bowl , Hercules Tub , Plato's Couch and Carpets , Diogenes Tub. Chairs , Lamps , Desks , Pillows of Learned Swains , Are excellent Reliques worth precious Gains ; But still he shall be wisest that takes the most Pains . Every Crab , Shrimps , Cockels and Oysters , Like Friars and Monks are shut up in Cloysters , Till they 're turn'd cut by Tyrannical Roysters . 'T is a deep saying of Horatio , Ratio est Consultatio . Idem per Idem in Circle Round , Mean while the plain Truth lies under-ground , And , for want of right searching , can ne'r be found . A Diaphanous , Ob●lous , Globulous Glass , Representing whatever was ; Hangs in the Center of the Brain , To which all Species flock amain , Skipping and Running to and again . A pitiful Whimsical Fancy , Alas , If another had said it , he had been an Ass . Sun Flashes , Stars Dart , Moon Spits , Mortals be careful to keep in your Wits . Demonstrations à Priore & Posteriore , A Majore & Minore . Every way Before and Behind ; But you must be sure your Business mind , I 'le not give you a Do●t for all you shall find . This will be all you can Poposcere , Scire est per Causas Cognoscere . Would you be healthy , I 'le offer you fair , Bottles of Epsam or Bury Air. Have you a mind for your Recreation , Learn Aeris Ferramination ; Use no Motion , keep your Station . Bel's Statue could Drink and Eat , Apollo's us'd to Weep and Sweat ; Some cunning Rogue 't was that acted the Cheat. 'T was a good Ox that needed no Cord , But came to the Altar of his own Accord . A Hen chang'd to a Cock , and a Cock to a Hen ; Men to Women , and Women to Men. A Flying-Stone was a fine Sight ; A finer to see Mountains Fight : But the finest Sight that ever was , To see a Bull leap a Cow of Brass . Borrax of late I am told , A way to ferruminate Silver and Gold . Tycho Brache walked about in Landaff , With an Astronomick Ring , and a Jacob's Staff . At first making Laws they us'd to sing , When publisht , why should not the Bells ring . Did ye never hear of Flesh in Trees , To feed poor Commonwealths of Bees . The Hunting of Grashoppers is as True , As is their feeding upon Dew ; A Lawyer 's in Heaven , Cry Fish New , New . Corpus Diaphanum & Vmbrosum , Venenosum & Ca●averosum , Serpens Formicis Exosum . Man was ever a Thinking Creature ; But Woman hath the lovelier Feature . Venus venustatem depopulatur , A Devil is a mixture of Monky and Satyr . Bacchus is a Lust-Provocator , Hercules a damnable Propagator . Primi Concubitûs semper Poenitet , 'T is easie to ride on a Spanish Gennet . Once is enough of a Pocky 〈◊〉 Whore ; Hang her Jade , shut her out of Door . Solus Gallus post Coitum ●antat , Solus Philosophus Hominem plantat . Elephants are never seen in Copulation , Nor Pigmies in any Nation . Ask Dyctys Cretensis , or Cebetis Tabulae , At Thebes or Athens , are they not Fabulae ? Drunkards may soak huge Gobbets of Wine , For Crater is made a Celestial Sign .

CANTO VIII . Alma Mater Cantabrigia , Lucis & Poculi Privilegia . Sparkling Lights and Cups Brimmers , Nothing is too good for Sinners . Fresh-men take no care for Dinners , At Cards or Tables you shall be Winners . There 's your Pipe and your Pot-Scholar ; Score up Hostess , till it comes to a Dollar . Oxonium bears a Crown and Book ; But where 's the good Liquor , you may go look , For this your Alma Mater no care took . Cambridge is the best Nurse , Oxford may her Pupils Curse ; Neither of these have a full Purse . Come light your Pipe , and crown your Bowls , Both together revives sad Souls . Rich Scholar , if thus arm'd , ne're fear To stem the Fen - Baeotick Air , You may come to be Doctor of the Chair . The Sun 's the greatest Soaker , and shrowds His Red-face under a Mask of Clouds . The Large Goblet holds rare Wine , 'T is that cheers this Heart of mine . It makes an Old Woman dance , and a Cat speaks , And the Nine Muses to do Feats ; True Scholars are seldom Cheats . At high Learning poor People are Wonderers , But all Doctors are not Conjurers , No more than all Orators are Thunderers . In Right-hand she holds a brave lusty Bowl , And that will rejoyce a Scholar's Soul . 'T is still supplied by Celestial Drops ; Take 'um off still as fast as Hops . In Left-hand she grasps the Noble Sun , The Proctor comes , Run Scholars , run . The Sun is your Friend , and his glorious Rays Will fill you with Learning , and crown you with Bays . You 'l ne're mend your Self all your days , These are the most Refined ways . Oxford the Book does disclose , Cambridge affords you the lusty Dose , That will give you a Jolly Red Nose . Our Mothers Breasts are always full , When drowzy in her Lap we may Lull . Oxford is a Thrifty Ant , Cambridge , our Mother , will ne're see us want . Our Mum is naked , all in her Hair ; But she is always plump and fair . The Gold Cup always overflows , I speak this under the Rose . We 'l sing old Rose , and more , We 'l Caper and make the Welkin roar . Like Vlysses , hang up every dirty Whore , That treads upon the Colledge Floor ; Porter , keep 'um from the Door . She ever was a Pleasant Dame , My Aunt was always of great Fame . But oh , the Sun Brews generous Wine , Which makes Cambridge Wits so Fine , She 's sure to have this Heart of Mine . O she 's more dearer than the Muses Nine , And shall be as long as the Sun doth shine . O 't is Large , our Mothers Cup , And full of Nectar , drink all up . Suck your Mothers swelling Paps , And sit in your Sisters Laps : But cast not off your Fudling-Caps , And have a care of After-claps . Her Breasts are always full and dropping , There 's Milk and Wine for you to Sop in . Still the good Liquor runs in my mind , Which makes Sophisters always kind . They say , Oxford's given to Conjure , For that I and they should ne're be asunder . But as long as Cambridge good Liquor lasts , There I 'le stick , and take my Repasts . This runs most in my mind , To Scholars Women should be kind . Oxford hath a Theatre , but where are the Actors ? Send to Cambridge for Wits Factors . A Brazen-Head was intended to Speak , And Prophecy , at the Devils Arse of Peak . But more than this , all England was , To be wall'd in with Hills of Brass . To save spilling of English Blood , We may burn then all our Walls of Wood. Frier Bacon was an Oxford Gull , Tell me a Tale of a Cock and a Bull. Cambridge , thou Mistress of all Arts , The World admires thy Childrens Parts . Because of thy dear Caresses , The Learned to thee make Addresses . Indulgent Mother to thy Sisters Seed , Both honoured by a Princely Breed . Both furnish all the World with Noble Stems , More precious than Indian Gold or Gems . Thou stretchest out thy Arms to embrace , And kissest with a Smiling Face : And to secure us every Hour , On thy Head thou wearest a Tower . Here Venus and Mars close in Conjunction , Maintain and defend a Scholars Function . A Towred-Head without Pain , Must needs have a very strong Brain , All solid Learning to contain . Lawyers , you want this strong Pallisado , You ne're knew a Doctor turn Renegado . To make sure , lest our Wits should falter , The Cup 's a Libamen at the Altar . 'T is better than the Muses Nine , For they all love Wine : And by the Cup they may Divine , To this my Heart does much incline . Barbary Gold is most fine , With this a man may Sup and Dine ; And quite leap over Trent and Tine , Dear Cambridge , I am ever Thine ! Mark , Scholars Cambridge Cup is Gold , Call for a Reckoning , to be pawn'd or sold . To play such Tricks you may be bold , And then your Hostess will not scold . If you chance to be put to 't tuff , There 's Meat and Drink , and Mony enough . Sea-men in Storms can Stem or Luff , All this while you are Reckoning Proof . How well does a lusty Bowl become A Scholar , when his Act is done ? A good Omen to Dispute under the Sun . Sophister's Heat in wrangling we see ; But a comly Cup makes 'um agree . Our Mum has prepared a kind Dole , To comfort her Sons when they come from School . Who can choose but love such a Mother ? We shall never find such another . It is the Fashion of all Nations , To solace themselves after hard Disputations ; How can this be done without good Collations ? Beat a Point of War for the King , Master Drummer , At the Fresh-man's Feast fill 'um a Rummer . Come along good Master Vicar , In all your life you ne're drank better Liquor . Down with it , let it lie to your heart next , 'T is for your purpose , called Tear-Text . Never fear a Jolly supply From the dropping Clouds , hard by . The Cup full of the Rarest Wine , Is that by which Scholars Divine . As long as we have such Juyce , leave wandering , Ne're go to Oxford to learn Conjuring . Beadle call a Congregation , The Cup must go round in Convocation . Squire Beadles , you have always brave Fees , For Batchelors , Masters , and Doctors Degrees . When the Wine is commonly drawn from the Lees , And there 's brave Hony among the Bees . Besides many a rare Collation , When the Vniversity Cup goes in Perambulation . Which is a Scholar's great Probation , Among the Learned Generation ; 'T is highly advancing to Contemplation . Scholars are still the best natur'd Blades , Exceeding all other Mysteries and Trades ; And commonly best beloved by Maids . The Muses are Wet-Nurses , And Apollo soaks your Purses . Scholars , though of different Arts , 'Gainst all Mechanicks take one anothers Parts . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . The Clark is envied by the Sexton . Wizard and Witch are Sister and Brother , Never envy one another . This Juyce I cannot but admire , Brew'd by the Sun 's Celestial Fire . Culinary Coals make Drink for Fools ; But this for Purple Doctors of the Schools . The Golden Cup , and glorious Sun , Replenish many a stately Tun. Therefore our Wits must needs be Fine , Furnished with such a Magazine . This is our Theatre and School , Oraculous more than Delphos Stool . Oxford , I leave thee and thy Sons , To quaff in Vintners and Tapsters Tuns . And then to satisfie your paltry Duns , Kick 'um down Stairs , put 'um all to the Runs , Send after 'um a brace of Pot Guns .

CANTO IX . Quere , If Toad-stools be Plants ? Quere , If Flora ben't one of mine Aunts ? Generatio non est ab Idaeis , Gentes non miscent cum Judaeis . Homo est Arbor Inversa , Est Res valdè Controversa . Ignis datur Inexstinguibilis , Pontifex-praesumitur Infallibilis . Phago and Clodios were Platter-Scowrers , Marriot and Wood were the greatest Devourers . We us'd a Roguish Trick full bold , To make Wives hot , and Husbands cold . Priapism or Frigidity , Come by Jealousie or Timidity . From hence sprang Cuckolds new and old , So many as can ne're be told ; Poor Creatures , meerly bought and sold . The poor Greek Slave with aking Heart , Chain'd to the Mill , sang a doleful Part. 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Grind Mill , grind , for Pittacus unkind , As we by woful Experience find , The famous Mytilenians doth Grind. Virgil told an Egregious Lye , That Dido did for Aeneas dye : When 'twixt him and the Tyrian Queen , A Hundred years did Intervene . Nor did Aeneas to Africk come , But fled an Exile to Latium . Campana Sacra Sponte Tinnit , Aliquando Equus Pictus Hinnit , There must be more than ordinary in it . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , by Romes Ladies , Omnia Graecè , To our Dames now French is as easie ; Concumbunt Graecè , if that will please ye . If not , 't is a bon Fashion , To borrow the Pox from every Nation . No Fashion can be a Load , The Reins may run , à la Mode . Within a place call'd Pluto's Cave , Is bred many an Ignorant Slave ; But there is never a Witch or Knave . Indians have neither Arts nor Letters , But they all Reverence their Betters . In Greece Learning most did spring , But no true love to Prince nor King : All Frauds and Lyes , and crafty Feats , Perjury , and all sorts of Cheats . The plainest Natures are the best , There 's little Truth in all the rest . Were I not what I am , I would be Just ; But as I am , be Cruel I must . Yet I condemn that which I hate , And praise every True hearted Mate . Right from Wrong I do distinguish , But still the Right I do relinquish . Devils and Witches are both of a condition , And undergo the same suspicion . We prompt Mortals to be base , To bring them to our Cursed case . To be Companions in Sin and Woe , Is the best Remedy we know : Therefore we corrupt High and Low , Strive to bring all to our Bow . This is the best course we can take , For all together to Merry make . Lanificii Causa fuit Sediti●o , Est Principii Petitio . Lightning , Thunderbolts and Stones , Consume Marrow , and break Bones . To abrogate Laws you must not hope , Till you come to move for 't with Neck in Rope . The Soul of the World , above and beneath , When was it ever heard so much as to breath ? Odores , they say , are tot , quot Sapores ; But who can Cant all the sorts of Amores . Go , enquire farther at the Isles of Azores , Or else to be sure , at Corvos and Flores . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Did ye never mind how Sol Fumat , And more often how Luna Despumat . They 're both drunk with Vapors and Fumes , Cleer the Air with Winds and Perfumes . Oleo , they say , Mare Turbatur , Et Oleo Mare Tranquillatur . A Cobler is a good Translator , Search in the large Maps of Mercator . Mariners , Merchants , if you please , When you go to Sea , carry good store of Ease . But of late better Medicines swim all in a Lunch , To lay Storms , Infuse them in a Bowl of Punch . Is the Sea Common and for all Free , Or must some be forc'd to lie by the Lee. Some may better steal an Ox , than others a Lamb , Come aloft Jackanapes with a Whim Wham . Hiccius , Doxius , Hocus , Pocus , John a Styles , or John an Okus . Some may better steal a Horse , or take a Pledge , Than others can look over a Hedge ; Set a blunt Razor an Edge . Down with the Woods on both Cheeks , Dress fine , and play with us at Barly-Breaks . Some have the Poor , some Pandora's Box , Feed poor Slaves with Bits and Knocks . Split your Ships on Shelves and Rocks , Frequent the Stews , and get the Pox. Stellae pascuntur Humoribus , Vulgus impletur Rumoribus . The Beggars stand prae foribus , Pigme give way , Cede Majoribus . Succulae Stellae , when will they be Wean'd ? When will the Common-Shore be Clean'd ? Moon , Moon , all Hail to Thee , Tell me who my Husband shall be , By the Doctrine of Triangles , or Rule of Three ? Tell me , if Mushrooms be Plants ? If Magpies or Partridges feed upon Ants ? There comes a Lion , my Heart pants , Beware of false Bonds and Counterfeit Grants ; A cheating Scrivener never custom wants . Venus vix tangit Occupatos , Carriots are not half so good as Potato's . Tell me Friar Campanella , Which is Tramontana Stella ? Tell me , what is Deceptio Visûs , Or what is Sardonicus Risus ? What Creature 's that , that never Pisses , And what Serpent that never Hisses , And what projector always Misses ? There are those that live by Smells , There are those that believe no Hells . How do Angels understand one another , Who did the false Oracles smother ? Ars Longa , Vita Brevis , Durus Labor , Cura Levis ; A Giant strong , Southampton Bevis . Stop Rivers , Winds and Tides , Take Garters and Shoe-strings from the Brides . Be chaste , as Lucretia , Ladies kind , A Lustful Tarquin you shall find . O poor Clients , have a care , Justice is sold as Publick Ware ; London is a great Fare . It will Irritare Crabrones , To discover Nocturnal Religiones ; When the Candles are out , they Bill like Pigeons . He that carries a Calf , will carry a Bull , It was the Practise of an old Trull . Vinum Opinionem parit certum Amorem , Vinum Cos habet Saporem , Odorem , & Colorem . Beauty , Wisdom , and Riches to spare , Make a Composition most Rare , A Looking-Glass Boys , for Ordure and Lotium , Ganimede's Tapster at Plato's Symposium . He 'l tell you Tales , that 's as Drunk as an Ass , Therefore , in Vino veritas . Does the Soul fall in Tropick Cancer , Or rise in Capricorn ? I stay for an Answer . Describe a Lion by his Claw , Measure Hercules by his Paw . What think you of a Tell-tale Daw , Who can keep the Turk in Aw . Has the Soul Wings ? Answer me to these Idle Things . Such Stuff as our Grave Sophies bring , Burn 'um well , 'till they cry , Save the King . Old Asiatick Pride , Was more than all the World beside : But now this Proverb is denied , In Europe swells the highest Tide . And there our Practise lies most , And there we chiefly rule the Rost ; Thither we flock , 't is the Richest Coast . There 's a private Hole or Vent , In the corner of the Firmament ; To keep out Air , tight and snug , Carefully stopt with a Leaden Plug : To this blind Cell Jove oft comes groaping , When weary , leaves the Gods a Tooping , Having from his Companions stole , He opes this peeping , listning Hole . There hearkens t'ev'ry Mortals Voice ; How some condole , and some rejoyce . The Subject of every Theme , How they bless , curse , and blaspheme . One cries for War , another for Peace , Others for Power , Riches , and Ease : Every one for what they please , In Health , Pain , or Disease . Some for Fair Weather , Some for Foul , Sometimes Sing , and sometimes Howl . When he hath tir'd his patient Ears , With contrary Vows and Fears ; He fairly puts the Plug in 's place . Returns to his Companions apace : Forgetting all business and care , Leaves all to Fate 's well or ill Fare . 'T is brave for us , when ev'ry Soul We have s●ch Freedom to controul : Never regards the Tears or cries Of Wretches , tho they Sacrifice . In vain the Heavens with Groans are rent , Hecatombs , and Incense spent : His heart does not the least resent , At any Offering , Bribe , or Complement . No Troubles are by him regarded , Nor any Services rewarded . Let Mortals shift , every Man , And take their Fortunes as they can . Thus he makes it his Recreation , To let all run at Random in this fashion . The World 's well govern'd , all this while , The rest o' th' Gods can't choose but smile . Where there 's much Variety Of Questions , there 's told many a Lye ; 'T is best to give 'um the Go by . Of what Order , if there be any , Are Questionarii & Curtesani ? Quindecemviri of the Coram . Augurs as good as e're came before 'um . Of our Profession , none so good To tell Stories of Robin Hood . These are our Collegues and Brothers , Vestals are our Sisters and Mothers ; We delight in Rogues and Whores above others . Tell us if Phoenicians were greatest Traders , Or Goths and Vandals the greatest Invaders ? At Plato his Symposium , Did the best Sophies come ? Where Hercules Pillars stand ? Remov'd into the American Strand . Where or how , when or which way , Supreme Power in the People lay ? How the cunning Tribunes got it ; Or to whom they did allot it ? If the Senate had forgot it , If the Commons were not besotted ? It put the Emperors out of breath , To get the Power of Life and Death . Whither the Roman State were Fools , To be governed by Edge Tools ? The Greeks and Romans by stealth , Drove most to a Commonwealth . May all the Eastern Folk well fare , For they their Princes love and fear . Why the Athenian Minerva chose The Owls , rather than the Tatling Crows ? Because these howling Birds of Night Conceal Mysteries , play Least in sight : The other Gossips fly about , Tell Tales too much among the Rout. Tongues ne'rely still , never give out , Till they be cut quite out . If Camelions live by the Air , How does it with the Salamander fare ? The Ostridge digests Iron and Stones , Just as the greedy Dogs do Bones . Where are the Fragments of the Ark ? Mars met with Venus in the dark . Find me out Constantine's Donation ? What 's the Grand Signior's Occupation ? Shew me the Original of Lex Regia ? And of the Peoples Privilegia ? Who drew the Charter of the People ? Who laid the first Stone of Paul's Steeple ? The Thunder thumping Claps are Ominous , That Roar in Homer's 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . And the huge Noise breaks all the Glasses , Of 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Frighted all the Lads and Lasses , Sunk all the Galliots and Galliasses . 'T is a true Rule , pro Quartanâ , Nunquam pulsatur Campana . 'T is true , at Plato's Great Year , All things will be cheap or dear . If Mules use to bring forth Mules , 'T is not yet resolv'd in Schools . Which is best , Salt upon Salt , ( Ask an Ale-Conner ) or Malt upon Malt ? Pick up the Sybils Leaves as you go , Tack them together all in a Row : Sell them to Augurs at high Rates , To busie all their Empty Pates , And teach us to understand the Fates . Lampon , a famous Priest of Greece , Used to Swear by the Geese . Who is the Cato of the Time ? What is Theologick Wine ? Shall he be reck'ned among the Flashes , That pist upon his Fathers Ashes ? Or she that drove her Coach the rather , Over the Dead Corps of her Father ? Vespasian , for Piss and Whores , Exacted Tribute of the Boors : But what had he in his Head , That took Taxes from the Dead ? Why not for every Maiden-Head ? A Juicy Virgin among the Senes , Was a Tenure ad-purgandos Renes . The Sight of Croesus Deadly Stroke , The Organs of his Sons Tongue broke . Pigeons and Crows are excellent Setters , When taught to and fro to carry Letters . In Egypts Continent and Isles , We found a whole Town of Crocodiles . Palamede's invented Dice ; So Rich Estates are lost in a Trice : But pardon 'um , they shall lose 'um no more , For I see Poverty stand at the Door . With Numens the World was once well stor'd , When Thirty thousand were ador'd . Roman Weddings were sure to hold , When Man and Wife each other bought and sold . A Woman with Child desires more Lust ; But Brutes keep their Seasons true and just . Brutes never yet offer'd at Male Coition , Nor after Conception , at Repetition : But Rationals are of another Condition , And too oft taken upon Suspicion ; Now Lawyers , ye may come with a Prohibition . Heathens Gods and Goddesses we adore , That us'd to play Rogue and Whore . Drunkard , Buffoon , Pimp and Pander , So our unlucky Wits do wander . To imitate each Vice-Commander , Pig and Capon , Goose and Gander . Parricides , Incests , Rapes , By their favour make Escapes . Poets and Mimicks went a Imping , Jupiter and Mercury go a Pimping , The rest follow with Vulcan Limping . We wait with Charms at their Altars , And at the Gallowses with Haltars . We dance stark naked at their Meetings , Bacchus , Venus , Flora's Greetings , Where we enjoy our Ducks and Sweetings . 'T was I , that so like a Fool , Climb'd Apollo's Threefoot-Stool . And such as I , mad , mad we grew , Farm'd false Oracles to the Crew . We had the luck to come off Blew , For our Responds were never True . Just like the Augurs Divination , Speaking like Bagpipes by Inspiration . Epsam , Dullidge , Tunbridge Waters , Produce to Ladies , Sons and Daughters ; If not , Lords will shew so much favour , To make it worth a Womans Labour , Try Fortunes , you may safer venture thither , Than to Delphos , or Memphis , or you don't know whither . Here you advance your Fames , Better than at the Olympick Games . Rich Bribes flow to filthy Sots , The Panders thrive by the Venerean Rots , The basest Parasites in Scarlet stand , The Diamonds sparkle from the bloody Hand . To these Arabia her Odours breaths , India her Silk and Spice bequeaths . So the Fool the Wise commands ▪ And goes away with all the Lands . How did Phocas , that cruel Beast , Advance the Papal Interest ? Then began that Fatal Theme , When he made the Priest Supreme . Zachary shifted Pepins Throne , And set Charles Martel in his Room : Many a Battel for him he fought , And to Rome great Treasures brought . Which the Gallick Liberties wrought , Pragmatick Sanctions come to nought . There are such cunning Tricks and Juglers , Such extraordinary Smuglers ; 'Twixt Papal and Imperial Sides , That one by turn each other Rides : And all our Wits can never find , From all Points , how they turn and wind . But still in them we have a Hand , And over them no small Command . Who hope up the Great Turk's Design , To take the Town of Constantine ? And with it famous Greece and Thrace , To th' European Kings Disgrace . We bewitcht the rich Whore-sons to part with their Wealth , Till the Turks got it all by stealth . From thence the Eastern Eagle fled , For want of her warm Nest , is dead . The Western long before was out of Breath , By Goths and Vandals pin'd to Death . For we had laid those Rods in Piss , And in they broke , when we did Hiss . For Genserick , Attila , Alarick , And every thing that was Barbarick . I gave them leave with Sword and Fire , To over-run the Roman Empire . I brought Saracens from the Levant , In Spain and Africa to Rant , Without the help of John a Gaunt . There never was a Richer Prey , In all the vast America . I farther led them such a Dance , Over all Germany and France . 'T was I that gave a large Commission . To the Spanish Inquisition . Furthermore , I put a Bar To that costly Holy War . I am ready upon all occasions , To bring in Barbarous Invasions . And every day I cut out Works , For my Journey-men , Tartars and Turks .

CANTO X. A Hypocrite , Os nectar promit , Hang him , Mens Aconita vomit . Take a Miser at the best , Jupiter is in his Chest . Justice may be done to All , And yet no fear the Heavens should fall . A Man may be in Zeal full Hardy , And in the best Things too Tardy . The Throne and Bed no Rivals breed , 'T is a good Garden without Weed . Tu omnes , Te nemo , leap over this Block , The Politicians and Priscilians Lock . Take a Lady in her Smock , That in a Cradle had a Knock. Empire's a Shirt so light and thin , Not to put off without the Skin . Contrà multos Desipere , An Idle Toy , a meer Frippery , A Maiden-head is very slippery . Tell Fools , to perplex 'um , Animae non habent Sexum . Tell bald Sires , in Pleasures bold , That Souls never grow old . I lack to know Materia Prima , A Principio ad Ima . Interdicts never look back , The Greater sways the better Pack . Who darts all day , before Dark , Ten to one but he hits the Mark. Rusticks and Commons are Tyrants food , As Tyrants are to Hells Brood . Italian thinks he 's sold and bought , When better used than of old for nought . Tell a Lye , and find the Truth , Take the Devil by the Tooth , Caveat Emptor , a Cheat , Turn the Table after Meat . It passes for a Trickum Legis , To cheat an honest Man Vox Gregis . Take heed of an Old crafty Tony , Latet Vitium , Proximitate Boni . Fortune hath a Womans Curse , For being woo'd she is the Worse . To keep , not use , a Miser pleases , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . If we rightly judge of Things , No Servant but is born of Kings . Mony is Mortals Blood and Life , Mony is all the Worlds Strife . If the Fool and Knave don't Ride ye , Fide , sed cui Vide. All Philosophers bespeak you , In two words , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . I say , trust not a Brother , The Daughter devours the Mother . Great Things the Law will perplex , De Minimis non curat Lex . An old Custom , is an old Lye , Be honest before you Dye . Women mightily prevail , Of Families both Head and Tail . Quod semel placuit , except thou dotest , Ampliùs displicere non potest , Valeat Quantum valere potest . Drive on the Rule , will never fail ye , Accessorium sequitur Principale . Say you so ? wou'd it were True , Then give every one his Due . They say that Honours stately Gates , Are shut to all Infamous Mates . Let not the Cook , but the Guess , Judge of every dainty Mess. Hear all , Judge of Thine and Mine ; But be sure , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Justice must no Anger show , If it do , away ye go . You may speak , as do Fools ; But you must think , as do the Schools . When all is done , by Yea and Nay , The World is but a Stage Play . Polupragmony takes pains , Invention gets all the Gains . Obligations among the Wise , If once extinct , shall never Rise . Interdum Vulgus rectè Videt , Semel in Anno Apollo Ridet . Where the Law hath not distinguisht , All Difference must be relinquisht . Bernardus non videt omnia , Homer's Ballads are all Somnia . If Witches fail , don't Jeer us , Aliquando bonus dormit at Homerus . For a Man , 't is high Time , When a Woman 's in her Prime . When the Bells give over Chiming , 'T is time for Poets to leave Riming . Are you the White Hens Chick , You 'l please a Woman to the Quick . Benè Nasuti , Benè Mentulati , Eme Lectum Oboerati . For pure Musick take your choice , The Night Owl , or the Ravens Voice . ‘ I 'm got into an unlucky Vein , ‘ When shall I grow sober again ? For fear you should be run aground , Hold with the Hare , and run with the Hound . Always Halt before a Creeple , Always keep in with the Common People , Be sure never leap over Pauls Steeple . Make Ale with good store of Malt , Relish nothing without Salt . Take no Man at his word , Flatter , though you be a Lord . One Ass scratches another ; Do so , though it be to your Brother . Are you humour'd at every Lock , You were wrapt up in your Mothers Smock . Are you a Fresh lookt , Smooth face Boy , Then you are all the Womens Joy . Get into the Ladies Laps , And they 'l be sure to feast your Chaps ; But beware of Afterclaps . Get into a Ladies Favour , She 'l bind you to your good Behaviour : For she always has a Favour , Something has some savour . When she smiles , if you be muddy , Shall put you out of your Brown studdy . Hunt , Hawk , Drab , Drink , Rob , Slay , So Gallants pass their Time away . If I had kept close my Cell , I ne'r● had known the World so well . We must be Politicians then , Because we Women study Men. If they be taken with our Looks , We 'l quickly get them into our Books : We have them every Man , Let them get out , if they can . Thus we conjure , If you won't pay , We 'l tell all you do , or say . We must be fashion'd in all Modes , And Coacht about in all Roads , We 'l shew all your Haunts and Revels , And turn you over to all Devils . Quickly , quickly ope your Bags , You shall be clothed all in Rags . Call for a Scrivener , Set your Hands And Seals , to convey all your Lands . There 's no Denial , it must be so , If you come in to Cuckolds Row . Alas , you quickly will grow Old , And so shall we , part with your Gold . You crinckle already in each Leg , In time you will be forc'd to Beg. Then you rotten Rogues be gone , And let fresh Hectors come on . So we 'l serve you , every one , With Palsie , Gout , Pox , or Stone . When you 're thus got among the Whores , They shall pay off all your old Scores . The greatest Favour from a Wench , Is to let you dye in the Kings Bench. Send for a Surgion , your last Lock Are Issues , and the Chopping Block . The Bactrians kept Sepulchral Dogs , To eat Parents alive , like Hogs . When the Crab shall catch the Hare , For Hunting take no farther Care . When the Rat took the Cat , Arras was surpriz'd for all that . Qui nescit orare , Continuò ascendat Mare . At every thing I have a Flingo , Tutto abractio , nuella stringo . The old Witch is dead , O Janus , Animam Jana pepedit Anus ! 'T is a true Saying , Multi , multa , And 't is as true , Plurimi , Stulta . Tho Hercules got Thirty Maids with Child , Yet by a Woman his Temple was defil'd . If the Lions Skin won't do , Tack the Foxes Fur thereto . Learn to blow hot and cold , Learn to be young and old . Have a care of over-reaching , ‛ Ware Geese , when the Fox is a Preaching . The best Fish , are always took By a Silver Line , and Golden Hook . There 's a Dish that 's very pleasant , Call'd Nusance , or Damage Fesant . If you be troubled with Irish Rats , Provide store of Tartessian Cats . There can be no worse Vexator , Than a half-witted Opiniator . When the Whole Senate sate free , Calpurnia pleaded , as well as we . Bona , Mala , Pulchra Sordent , To be sure , Mortui non Mordent . Ape in Purple , Dog in Manger , Never fear any Danger . If you would ne're be troubled more With any Pain , Drink Hellebore . If you 'l be Just , Pardon the Crows , And let the Pigeons feel the Blows . He that hath consumed you once , Trust him agen , for the nonce . ‛ 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Come Skinkers , Wine 's an Ass to Water-Drinkers . Make Welkin roar , ye can ne're be Madder , Than three blue Beans in a blue Bladder . Put it to Questions and Commands . London Bridge upon Wool-Packs stands . Have ye not read in ancient Rowls , Of the Praeexistence of Souls : And where they are , and what 's their Trade Ever since they were made . How they are called from their Plantations , Into Male and Female Habitations . When they depart , whither they go Into other Bodies , or no. ‘ I 'm something Curious you 'l say , ‘ I would fain know what I may : ‘ If not , I 'le be content to stay , ‘ Tho now 't is Night , it will be Day . ‘ The less I know , the more I 'le do , ‘ Throw after me an Old Shoe , ‘ For in Business 'twixt Man and Man , ‘ I 'le do all the Mischief I can . Quiddities , Quoddities , Entities , Are Metaphysical Apprentices . Nominal , Real , Vnasino●s Colleagues , Projectors , Politicians , Intrigues . Banks his Horse , Prince Rupert 's Dog , The Speaking Bear , and Flying Hog . The Sense of Speaking , and 't were good , If there were an Interrogative Mood . Good Night to every drowzy Head , When the Moon is in her Flock Bed . A Quartan Ague is an Evil ; But we say it is some Devil . Epilepsies , by Jews Confessions , Are the same with Spirits Possessions . A Fiddle , Pipe , or Kettle Drum , Fit a Fool to a Cows Thumb . Charles Martel , that Champion great , Did Saracens in France defeat : Borrowed Tithes to pay his Men , But never paid them back agen . For which we served him right well , Turn'd Body and Soul into Hell . A Serpent found on his Tomb Stones , Had carried away all his Bones . Of our Antiquity we boast the rather , 'Cause Zoroastres was our Father . Horti Pensiles , says Ribera , Were a pleasant Chimera . In Minotaurs Labyrinths gay , Ariadnes Thred-shew'd the way . Attius Naevius had a sore put , To prove his Augustship a Whetstone cut . The like in Authors I never saw , As Homer , not a Word of Law . It seems there was then many a King , Whose Words were Law , that was the Thing . The Sawcy Dogs bark at the Moon , The Horse runs for a Silver Spoon . Tyresias of the Hellish Blades , For Wisdom excels all other Shades . Twelve Dii Consentes , Hectoring Boys , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Hober-de-Hoys ▪ Philosophers and the Rabbles , For Deities did turn Tables . The Poets broach all the Fables , The Giants ransack all the Stables . Intramundane , Extramandane Gods , With Medioxumi all at odds . Dii Patellarii , or Trencher Scrapers , With Lares & Lemures , are at Daggers and Rapiers . From Atoms , Numbers , or from Fire , Of Gods , sprang the Celestial Quire : But which of these was the true Sire , I leave Socrates to Enquire ; For I dare go no higher . There were Sober 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , And as Mad-headed 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 Furies . There are worse Numens , Mice and Rats , With their deadly Foes , Dogs and Cats . And if you should lack Gods to Eat , Onions and Garlick are Sawce for your Meat . All this was an Egyptian Cheat ; Ask their Priests , they did the Feat . Witches , whom you so Misuse , Did never Folk so much Abuse . For these , we turn not Earth like Plowmen , But like Fools , ' 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 was an Indian Tower , Too high for Birds to fly over . The Observation must not scape us , The Shapes of Panus and Priapus . Which in the Temples they Revere , But in the Theaters they Jeer : The rest at Altars , they Adore , But in Scenes call Rogue and Whore . Alexander's Statue , an Architect , From Athos Mountain did Project : To hold a City in his hand , But wanting Water was at a stand . The Arcadian Sow felt no disquiet , Tho a Nest of Rats did in her Gammon Dyet . In the Kingdoms of Clarencieux and Garter , Where shall a small Army find Quarter ? Look Bridegrooms to your Genial Bed , If no Cow-itch should be spred . If Sheets ben't sown close by some Slut , Or if the Bed-cords ben't Cut. Is the Pox an American Disease , Or came it rather from the Genovese ? Who barrel'd up Venetian Mummy , And sold it to them again for Tunny ? And so they got both Pox and Money . I read of a Cabinet of Racks , For every Limb hung up upon Tacks . Rhinolabides , Cheilostrophiae , Otagrae , Dactylotheae , Pedostratae . I think we ne're were such Fools , To need to use such simple Tools . We were never such blind Gulls , To invent Brazen Bears or Bulls . What can be fancied in Proportion , To an Hebrew Jew for Extortion . Use upon Use , goes on Merily , But Metal upon Metal is false Heraldry . As oft as we hear Quod erat Demonstrandum , So oft we hear Aliquid restat Probandum . 'T is a most Hangman like Prosecution , To deflower a Virgin before Execution . ‘ We fall in nothing from our Scope , ‘ Save only in dancing down a Rope . ‘ At nothing else we so much Grudge , ‘ As at a Hangman , or a Judge . ‘ An Hempen Noose with an ugly Knot , ‘ Destroys us to rights upon the Spot . ‘ The Scrivener , Devil and his Dam , ‘ Faciunt nos Longam Literam . ‘ Some of us are so fair and bright , ‘ A hungry Cyclops at first sight ‘ Would spare us , but we know ‘ You have no Mercy at all to show . ‘ We 'l save our selves then what we can , ‘ Sooner trust a Devil than a Man . ‘ We hurt Bodies more than Purses ; ‘ Kill not by Weapons , but by Curses . ‘ When we torment or kill , ‘ No Reason for it , but our Will. ‘ We Covenant to obey ‘ The Evil Spirit , that bears sway . ‘ 'Cause he 's all Malice and despight , ‘ Therefore in the same we delight . ‘ We serve him , because we hope ‘ In every thing , but a Rope . ‘ He can relieve us in any Thing , ‘ Till we come to a rough String . ‘ 'T is said , a Young-Wythe unripe , ‘ Can best choak a Witches Wind-pipe . ‘ 'T is nothing to break Bars and Chains , ‘ Force Walls and Bulwarks without pains : ‘ But a poor Cord , or slender Twine , ‘ Is beyond the Devil's power , or mine . ‘ There 's one thing more besides a Turn , ‘ We cannot drown , but we can burn . ‘ All this we know , but we are High , ‘ Malicious , and love to stand in a Lye . ‘ So stout , as rather than be sham'd , ‘ We dare venture to be damn'd . ‘ So we in time in Pleasures reign , ‘ We 'l endure Everlasting Pain . ‘ A Wilfulness of high degree , ‘ To plunge into dark Eternity . ‘ So with Old Nick we did agree , ‘ Therefore it must be , as it must be : ‘ And he must smart , as well as we , ‘ And all his Devils Company . ‘ This World is his , and by Him , ours , ‘ No matter for Celestial Powers . ‘ We 're sure of something while we 're here , ‘ Tho it cost us ne're so dear . ‘ Beside Revenge and Pride in the Case , there 's Lust , ‘ And Hypocrisie , never to be just . ‘ Cruelty ne're in this World rid faster , ‘ Than we do behind an Implacable Master . ‘ It is now become our Calling , ‘ Stand as long as we can , for there will be a falling . ‘ As there are Goods , there must be Evils , ‘ As there are Gods , there must be Devils . ‘ We have the best of a Craft on Earth we can find , ‘ Heaven is far off , we leave it behind . ‘ Here w' have our will , and our fill of our Play , ‘ We never shall hope for a merrier Day . ‘ And this is all the account I can give , ‘ We 're sure we shall dye , but not sure we shall live .

CANTO XI . ‘ We can Conjure the proudest Daemon● , ‘ If you 'l not do this , we 'l split the Heavens , ‘ Lay Isis's Secrets all ope , ‘ Into their Cabinet-Council grope . ‘ Plunder the horrid Magazines , ‘ Called Sacred Eleusynes . ‘ Expose the monstrous Beastly Rites , ‘ Unseen by Moon and Stars a Nights . ‘ Rifle Mysteries , tell Tales , ‘ Of all your Numens , Shee s and Males . ‘ Spoil your rich Trade , and all your Fea●● , ‘ Discover all your damned Cheats . ‘ Ransack all your Golden Cists , ‘ Rob your Relicks , starve your Priests . ‘ In Recompence for all your Lies , ‘ Make good every rich Sacrifice . ‘ All our Bullocks and Rams restore , ‘ Or else we 'l never offer more . ‘ We 'l break your Altars , shut your Gates , ‘ Fire the Temples o're your Pates , ‘ And never serve you at these Rates . ‘ Restore our Crowns and Jewels Gifts , ‘ Or we 'l put you all to your last Shifts . ‘ Dash all your Royal Donations , ‘ Cancel all Impropriations . ‘ To do This , I adjure you ; ‘ If you do That , I abjure you . ‘ If you do neither , I conjure you , ‘ If you tell Truth , I 'le ne're endure you . ‘ An be hang'd , you call us Witches , ‘ An be damn'd , you call us Bitches ; ‘ But spight of you we 'l wear the Britches . ‘ I 'le make Tantalus Ghost , ‘ In Ice to freez , in Flames to rost . ‘ I 'le banish Shades to Fairy Land , ‘ Or the dark Cabins of the Stygian Strand . ‘ I 'le thrust them into Little-Ease , ‘ Soak 'um in Phlegethon's Boyling Seas . ‘ I 'e come arm'd with Hercules Clubs , ‘ And break all the Danaïdes Tubs . ‘ I 'le hale Thyestes by Magick Tricks , ‘ To loathed Thebes , out of Styx . ‘ The Ghosts from Sepulchres shall rise , ‘ By Beel-zebub , God of Flies . ‘ Fright Mortals with horrid Cries , ‘ Throw Fire-balls to put out their Eyes . ‘ I 'le break in pieces Promotheus's Chains , ‘ And dash out the cruel Vultur's Brains . ‘ Rowze Spirits , stand on Tiptoes , Conjurations , ‘ Answer all my Expostulations . ‘ For Murders , Incest , Thefts and Rapes , ‘ Tell me who have made Escapes ? ‘ I 'le pull Jove by the Beard , and drive ‘ All his Company before me , dead or alive . ‘ I 'le make the Fury-Alecto , skip , ‘ With a fierce Satyr's knotty Whip . ‘ It is our special Wills and Pleasures , ‘ Forthwith to observe all our Measures . ‘ Upon pain of high Displeasures , ‘ To deliver up all our hid and lost Treasures . ‘ From the Center of both Poles , ‘ From all dark skulking Holes . ‘ From the bottom of the Waves , ‘ From rotten Sepulchres and Graves . ‘ From Lakes and Woods , and Desart Sands , ‘ Mountains and Vallies in all Lands . ‘ From the Dungeon of Hell , ‘ And you that in Aery Regions dwell . ‘ Take all the Word of Command , ‘ Before our awful Presence stand . ‘ Come up , come down , you Hellish Rout , ‘ Follow our steps , never give out . ‘ All the Jolly Teutons and Franks , ‘ Never yet plaid such mad Pranks . ‘ As long as our Senses ne're fail us , ‘ Never think to over-hale us . ‘ Our Spells , Charms , and Incantations , ‘ Turn you from your lofty Stations . ‘ We 'l clamber to your stately Halls , ‘ And toss you down like Tennis-Balls . ‘ Is Justice fled to you , send her down , ‘ We lack her amongst them of the Long-Gown . ‘ Rule you aloft amongst your selves , ‘ Domineer over Hags and Elves . ‘ We 'l make you do as we please , ‘ Or you shall live at little Ease . ‘ If you won't yield , to do so , or so , ‘ Have at you all , down you must go . ‘ You 're glad to lick the Fat , and suck the Blood , ‘ Of Beasts , that are for you too good . ‘ Yield , O yield , you Tyrant Pride , ‘ Your Hogen Mogens are defy'd . ‘ Come down from aloft , Come up from below , ‘ Whither we please , Run and Go. ‘ Ye hungry Gods are glad of Collations , ‘ From our Fryings and Fumigations . ‘ But down your Altars go , your Temples fall , ‘ 'T is in our power to starve you all . ‘ We 'l be Gods too our selves , away , ‘ We have a mind to go to play . ‘ Do as we bid you , never frown , ‘ We 'l clamber up and pull you down . ‘ Know that our Sect did never love you , ‘ And that we are a Power above you . ‘ Our Charms and Spells , and Incantations , ‘ Are more than all your Divinations . ‘ For Fashions sake y' have been ador'd , ‘ But ye shall be as much abhor'd . ‘ Look to your selves , I come , I come , ‘ And all my Crew , make room , make room . ‘ Make never so strong a Plea , ‘ I 'le bind y' all fast in the Red-Sea . ‘ To do your Enemies a Favour , ‘ I 'le tye you to your good Behavour : ‘ And tho ye flourish in your Prime , ‘ I 'le make you stay and wait my Time . ‘ Come Spirits , when I call , rowze up amain , ‘ What will you do for the King of Spain ? ‘ When you 're took upon Suspicion , ‘ What will you do for the Lords of the Inquisition ? ‘ If the Pope or the Turk lacks , ‘ Empty all your poyson'd Sacks : ‘ Or I 'le hang y'up upon Tainters or Tacks , ‘ And proclaim you all for Quacks . ‘ We 'l march and knock at Hell-Gates , ‘ Enter , and turn out all your Mates . ‘ Take possession of your Rooms , ‘ And bury you up close in Tombs . ‘ In a word , We 'l level all your Towers , ‘ And rifle you of all your Powers . ‘ When we have knockt you all i' th' Head , ‘ We will command all in your stead . ‘ Take Quarters , while you may , yield or dye , ‘ These two ways , we 're resolv'd to try : ‘ For I 'de have you all to know , ‘ Ye shall and must come to my Bow . ‘ Such is the force of a damn'd Spell , ‘ To turn you out , and stop up Hell . ‘ Give up quickly , do what we lack , ‘ Or 't is decreed to make Hell crack . ‘ As were the Giants to Mankind , ‘ Such to you , you shall us find . ‘ Do then , I say , as we would have ye , ‘ O● all the Powers of Hell can't save ye . ‘ O how the pitiful Ghosts shake , ‘ At our Threatnings , how they quake ? ‘ Because they know they cannot stand , ‘ Except they stoop to our Command . ‘ You that love to be called Gods , ‘ Shall like Slaves be whipt with Rods. ‘ Foolish Mortals use to fear you , ‘ When you fall they shall Jeer you . ‘ You know when I please to use my Power , ‘ I can destroy you every Hour . ‘ When we find you in Transgression , ‘ We can bring you to Confession . ‘ Have at you , once for all , ‘ We 'l make you on us for Mercy call . ‘ Except you strive to make me your Friend , ‘ I say , your Power is at an end . ‘ This of Mine is the most working Spell , ‘ That e're was sent to Heaven or Hell . ‘ We 'l take your Brass , Silver , and Gold Mettals , ‘ And melt 'um down to Pots and Kettles . ‘ That which now an Idol makes , ‘ Shall serve for Pispots and for Jakes . ‘ Your Silk and Tissue Robes we 'l burn , ‘ Or them into Fools Coats turn . ‘ The World shall know you 're Stocks and Stones , ‘ Or nothing else , but Dead mens Bones . ‘ You call your selves Planets and Stars , ‘ That are but Sepulchral Jars : ‘ Crocks and Dust , Mummy at best , ‘ Yet you would be ador'd and blest . ‘ The Cheat's found out , the Truth to tell , ‘ No such Gods are in Heaven or Hell . ‘ Learn then , us Witches to adore , ‘ Such Gods as you shall be Gods no more , ‘ That are no better than Rogue and Whore . ‘ From henceforth Priests put up your Pipes , ‘ With us in Markets go sell Tripes . ‘ A company of rascally Canters , ‘ That set up the Trade of Inchanters . ‘ Ne're think to cheat the World more , ‘ You grow rich , and we grow poor . ‘ You are the dissembling Wights , ‘ Cheating us with Familiar Sprites . ‘ Never was such a Reformation , ‘ Practis'd in any Generation . ‘ Mortals , fear the Daemons no more ; ‘ But be afraid of Rogue and Whore . ‘ Those are the Furies , those the Fiends , ‘ That appear to be your Friends , ‘ And are all for their own Ends. ‘ Spare your Altars and your Gifts , ‘ All these are but pitiful Shifts ; ‘ I have given them all their Lifts . ‘ From henceforth , ye honest Slaves , ‘ Arm your selves 'gainst Rogues and Knaves . ‘ He that will be an Honest man , ‘ Let Devils hurt him , if they can . ‘ Never fear Stocks or Stones , ‘ Never worship Dead mens Bones . ‘ Never be more daunted by Elves , ‘ The Devils are amongst your selves , ‘ More or less , in Folio's or Twelves . ‘ A company of silly Apes , ‘ Be no more scar'd by Nocturnal shapes . ‘ Princes and Generals give gifts like Fools , ‘ To Apollo 's Three-Foot-Stools . ‘ This was the Scab , this was the Itch , ‘ To make Kings poor , and Priests rich ; ‘ Was there ever such a Tearing Witch ? ‘ Witchcraft by Witchcraft is smother'd , ‘ Witchcraft by Witchcraft is discover'd . ‘ For this purpose , I have sent out Roisters , ‘ To find out these grand Impostors , ‘ And drag them out of their Cells and Cloisters . ‘ And send 'um posting to their doom , ‘ For Honest men to make room . ‘ Honesty , I dare say , ‘ From all carries the Bell away . ‘ The true Witchcraft is Hypocrisie , ‘ And every thing that is a Lye . ‘ I have prov'd the greatest Spy , ‘ That ever found out Villany . ‘ For I have garbled every Sect , ‘ That ever did the World Infect . ‘ Let 's ha' no more of these Tricks hereafter , ‘ To cheat every honest Son and Daughter . ‘ Hitherto Knaves have made it their Laughter , ‘ But I 'le send 'um to the Slaughter . ‘ This is my piercing Wit , ‘ Which a Philosopher could never hit ; ‘ Put 'um all upon the Spit . ‘ Let all the Ranks of Rogues and Knaves , ‘ Be posted from Gibbets to Graves . ‘ At Witches hitherto the Rout , ‘ Use to throw Stones , Jeer and Flout ; ‘ Till burnt , or hang'd , would not give out . ‘ 'T is to be hop'd they 'l spare us now , ‘ And look better to the Pen and Plow . ‘ I have been an observing Ranger , ‘ Where 's the least shew , there 's the most Danger ; ‘ Have a care of the Dog i' th' Manger . ‘ Alas , we have done petty Harms , ‘ What think y' of Gowns and Gens d' Arms ? ‘ O this Steel , O these Gowns , ‘ O these Leathern Clowns ! ‘ O these Men of Wit , ‘ The Golden Mark how they hit ! ‘ We are ugly , poor and old , ‘ We did never shine in Gold ; ‘ But we have been basely bought and sold . ‘ If we had got but the true knack , ‘ We should have Bowl'd at the Gold-Jack . ‘ This Trick the Devil found , ‘ Shews us all the true Ground . ‘ Defame , Lie , Rob , Murder , Whore ; ‘ What can Witches do more ? ‘ Nay , tho the World at them doth grutch , ‘ I never knew them do so much . ‘ Alas , we go slowly , upon Crutches , ‘ They fly , and take you in their Clutches : ‘ Keep close to your Callings , if you be wise , ‘ And beware of Saints in disguise . ‘ But at last we shall out-wit 'um , ‘ Or the Devil shall out-split 'um . ‘ In all my Born I ne're cou'd abide 'um , ‘ But tell the World where they use to hide 'um . ‘ I take him for an excellent Setter , ‘ That Preaches by the Spirit , and acts by the Letter ▪ ‘ Ten thousand Plots to my One they have hatcht , ‘ But now , I think , they were ne're were so well macht , ‘ As in this Satyr I have patcht . ‘ Yet all I go by , is by Books and by Fame , ‘ And for it my Satyr has got an ill Name ; ‘ But his Honest desire is Mischief to tame . ‘ My Satyr henceforth would confine to his Den , ‘ And never more come amongst wicked Men. ‘ They have try'd him so long with their Sins , ‘ That he too often frets and grins . ‘ He 's tyr'd with skipping and whipping about , ‘ Among the Rascal , Revel Rout. ‘ I 'de fain be quiet too , if you please , ‘ Reform , and I 'le send him his Writ of Ease . ‘ The Scholar will say , in his Execration , ‘ He finds me too often change my Fashion . ‘ Sometimes I 'am a Devil , and the Devil I paint ; ‘ Sometimes I appear in the shape of a Saint . ‘ A second Guzman , He or She , ‘ A Knave and an Honest man be . ‘ I am all Villany , I confess , ‘ But I love to go in an honest dress ; ‘ I hope , I 'm Rogue ne're the less . ‘ Only I am a great Painter of Faces , ‘ Giants and Dwarfs of all Ranks and Races , ‘ Ambling and Trotting in all Paces . ‘ By this you may know , what is good or bad , ‘ And where both are to be had . ‘ If you choose the best , I 'le be glad , ‘ I confess , Knaves have made me mad . ‘ All Grace I am long since past , ‘ But you may be sober , honest ande hast . ‘ In this Glass all Faces I show , ‘ An Honest man from a Knave you may know . ‘ Still I teach Honesty , I say , ‘ Tho it be the clean contrary way . ‘ When you see I 'am a Fool , if your Wits you don't lose , ‘ I hope the Fairest you will choose . ‘ My Instructions are good and ample , ‘ Tho I give a bad Example . ‘ However I 'am in a Disguise , ‘ To commend Vertue , I am so wise . ‘ A wicked Witch may open your Eyes , ‘ The Devil will teach you to Sacrifice . ‘ By good Doctors you refuse to be Taught , ‘ Try , for this once , one that is Naught . ‘ That is in Practise , but teaches True , ‘ And so you may give the Devil his due . ‘ In all this Race Virtue offers a Prize , ‘ Tho she come in a Fools Disguise ; ‘ T is a most rare Enterprize . ‘ You 're a great Fool , if you won't see , ‘ You 're a great Knave , if you won't agree ; ‘ You shall be no Witch for me . ‘ Say once , you were to Honesty turn'd , ‘ By Witches , that deserv'd to be hang'd and burn'd . ‘ 'T is a good Conversion , by bad Means , ‘ A Black sometimes a White man cleans . ‘ A kicking Cow has good Spenans , ‘ Some body knows what Some body means . ‘ Among Tares good Wheat gleans , ‘ I 've always bid you have a care of Beans . ‘ If Angels can't force you from Evil , ‘ Hell may , and the fear of a Devil ; ‘ For my part , I love to be Civil . ‘ Any ways , if you can , get to be good , ‘ When hungry , from the hands of a Slut take Food . ‘ This is more than a Tale of a Tub , ‘ Have at a good Cast , Rub a Rub a Rub. ‘ I was always a Good Fellow , ‘ I love the Man that will sometimes be Mellow , ‘ But I cannot endure the Rogue that is Yellow . ‘ Surely , rather than make your self a Starver , ‘ Of good Meat , for once , let a Witch be your Carver . ‘ If I mean no good , you may mean well , ‘ By me good from bad you may spell . ‘ And the more you see Baseness increase , ‘ The more you may love Goodness , if you please . ‘ Never give the Devil his Ease , ‘ While others love War , do you love Peace . ‘ Chuse the Better , refuse the Worse , ‘ Take the Blessing , and leave the Curse ; ‘ Say , you were taught it by your Witch Nurse . ‘ Say , you met with a Witch of late , ‘ That brought you from Hell to Heaven Gate : ‘ And there she left you , and you went in , ‘ This was Joan Silver Pin: ‘ Fair without , and foul within , ‘ That went through thick and thin . ‘ Who at last dy'd in a String , ‘ Prognosticated by Almanack Wing . ‘ So Vice has alwaies a Deadly Sting , ‘ Which Rogues at last to Hell does bring . ‘ At which for Joy , I dance and sing , ‘ And all the Bells in the Town shall Ring . ‘ Let them count one for their Friend , ‘ That have brought 'um to this End . ‘ Thus I 've took pains to make you understand , ‘ What belongs to a Witches Command . ‘ Who so fit as Cacodaemons . ‘ T'unravel the Snarles of their Fellow Epistemons ? ‘ Thus we have you Astral Daemons all at a Bay , ‘ Stir if you dare , if we bid you stay . ‘ But if by chance our Project fails , ‘ We 'l cease Conjuring , and tell Tales .

CANTO XII . A Lady fair , as I am told , Never desired to live to be old : And therefore this most Curious Lass , Spying the first Wrinckle of her face in a Glass ; Out of the World in all haste she stole , And told never a living Soul . Poor Fool , when Youth and Beauty fled , Was woundy willing to be dead , As e're she was to lose her Maiden-head . Agreeable to the old Relation , Better be out of the World , than out of the Fashion . A Vestals Hair-Lace drew the Hulk , In which the Mother of the Gods did sculk : To fetch her off , many a Yoke Of Horse and Men their Tacklings broke , So Nun Claudia , that was Cast By this Trial , was prov'd Chast . Mark it , she that cries Whore first , Of Whores proves evermore the worst . The Spaniard is a Formal Fop , The French a Whirligig , Town-Top . The Savoyan a dull Thinker , The German a deep Drinker . We are all Tramontana Gulls , Meer Asses , Artick and Antartick Bulls , And Dunces of empty Skulls . Italians are the Worlds pure Wits , If we 're Ingenious , 't is by Fits . The Scots are false-hearted Scabs , The Irish lazy , lowzy Shabs , Live upon Vinegar and Crabs . Hollanders Slovens , Swedes and Danes , Old Goths and Vandals have no Brains ▪ All that dwell in the Alps Northside , Are full of Ignorance and Pride . Italy's the place for wanton Boys , Curtesans , and Fantastick Toys . Believe Do● Quixot ▪ Amadis de Gaul , The Suns Knight Palmerion , Devils and all . Lucretia dyed not 'cause she would be chaste , But because Tarquin from her made such haste . Terti● dyed of the Pox , Supposed honest by Cato the Fox , Cuckolated with broad Horns , like an Ox. Italy for my Money , Roma Santa , Better than Greece and the Levanta . Here sit I in my dark Cell , To tell Tales from Earth to Hell , And I like my Humor well . Ask Venus , if Hector or Mars were not Twangers , If Polyphemus and Hercules were not Bangers . I Canidia am highly Fam'd , Because I was yet never Tam'd . Spirit of Harts-horn and Amber , Make my Fancy caper and clamber ▪ Give me the Italian Liberty , Wedlock's miscarried , 'T is a perfect Bilboes to be married . They do be witch 'um and bewhore 'um , As their Fathers did before 'um ; Cuckolds all , More Majorum . I desire to be rich in Pleasure , More than in Rotten Sheep and Treasure . Aristotle was my first Brood , That Metaphysicks understood . Solon was my Son in Law , Lycurgus kept Rebels in Aw . Sappho was my Daughter dear , That taught Poets to sing clear . My Dogs are of a Spartan Race , Loelaps , Melampus , not Fox or Bawdy-face . Who was Adam's Tutorling ? Or , who taught Eve to spin ? Old Maids may keep their Maiden-heads , Till the Moon drop Milstones on their Beds . Maids appearing , Maids in being , These , if you know where , wou'd be worth the seeing . On Cuckolds heads , Horns are planted , They deserve to run the Gantlet , And to be call'd Gentlemen of Antlet . Pig Sows and Pig Boors , Boys and Girls , Rogues and Whores . Dawbd , Patcht , Clapt and Chopt , Stew'd , Salivated , Slopt . A Hot , Wet and dry Banian , Shav'd , Rub'd Slic'd with a Wannion . All will not do , never Sound , Rotten above , and under-ground . A wholsom Husband or Wife , Rarely found Comforts of Life . Jack and Joan Silver-Pin , Fair without , and foul within , An honest Wife can't Favour win . Honours high , and Riches gross , Seeming Beauty , Humors cross . An ugly Miss makes endless strife , To a fair , rich , and wholsom Wife ; This Paints the Age to the Life . Parents and Guardians , look well to your Charge , Let not Striplings and Girls run about at large ; Such Vermin you 'l find in Gravesend Barge . Keep 'um close up to their Books and Thimbles , For fear they be took with the Throw-go-Nimbles . Leave 'um to Selves , when their Tails shake , I 'le warrant you , they 'l make your hearts ake : If you don't nip 'um in the Bud , I 'le pass my word they shall ne're be good , But vex and torment your Hearts Blood . That for which you have toyld and sweat , In Riot , Excess , they shall drink and eat . When you 're dead , they 'l be frolick and jolly , Laugh at your Care , Labour and Folly . They handle the Pitchfork , you the Rake , They scatter all when your heads don't ake . A rich young Heir comes to make his abode In the City , to learn the newest Mode . In a Tavern , so it came to pass , He meets with a delicate painted Lass . Shee 's free to kiss and sit in his Lap , She knocks with her foot , and in comes a Snap . Oh Rogue , what ravish my Wife , Damme Villain I 'le have thy Life . Thus Scuffling , in steps an old Cinque-Cator , And offers to be a Mediator . Nay , pray Sir , spare the poor simple Lad , Your self was young once , and full as mad . No no , but I 'le be civil , let him fight for 't , But as I live , he shall dye for 't . Hold Sir , I beseech you , I 'le propound , The Gentleman 's willing to compound , And Seal y' a Bond of a Thousand Pound . A thousand such Cheats are continually framing , In Coffees and Stews , and Houses of Gaming ; All which are not worth the naming . Did it ever Rain Geese ? Has Spain got the Golden-Fleece ? Who sav'd the Capitol at Rome ? Who brought the Empire to its Doom ? As long as our Senses don't fail us , Never think it to over-hale us . I 'le tell you a prime piece of Skill , You may believe me , if you will . There was a certain Bumkin Lout , Who was at every slashing Bout . With Heat impetuously drove , To cool himself in Venus Grove . He beg'd for Rods , would madly rail , If Lictors with Rods did not brush his Tail . He needs none to put in Bail , That resolves to go to Gaol . And so furious was the Lown , That he must see the Blood run down . Thus he delighted above measure , To feel at once both Pain and Pleasure . The more tormented , the more he itcht , None can say , but he was bewitcht . He was conjur'd into Venus Arms , No otherwise than by Whipping Charms . We taught him upon Rue to feed , To stop the Urine of his Seed , For fear their should be more of his Breed . Gonsales at several Stanza's , Got up to the Moon by the help of his Ganza's . And let them that long so to climb , Get up if they can , but let 'um take time , And they must be every Man in his Prime . We can teach a hundred Tricks better than that , With Moon and Stars to sit and Chat. Command their help for Peace or War , Famines or Plagues to further or bar ; Alas , I feel my Brains jar . Amalthe's great Horn , I never saw the like in all my Born . It is called Cornucopia , It is to be seen in Vtopia . The dogged , sullen Indian Tree , With Solar Beams will not agree . Of all the Plants , there 's but this one , That shuts its Leaves against the Sun . If it Rains Frogs 't is Ominous , But if it Rain Hogs , Abdominous . If you lack Bread to your Meat , You may watch till it Rains Wheat . And to compleat all , 't were fine , If there were a Spring of Wine . Of Wonders , these and more forts , Are recommended by Reports . Of all the rest , it is not good , When it rains Fire and Blood . Rome tam'd the Barbarians , and made 'um Wise , Good Reason to take 'um in War for a Prize . The Worlds Fortunes were ne're at a stay , Till they inclined all one way . While Marius and Scylla made a Fray , The Caesars chanc'd to get the Day . All Fluctuations that had been , Setled in the Bosom of the Roman Queen . Aristaeus Proconesus , as Herodotus writes , Travelling abroad for his Delights , Stept into a Fullers Shop by meer chance , And there fell into a deadly Trance . The Fuller amaz'd shuts his Shop in haste , To tell his Friends the ill luck that had past . When in comes a Cyzicens , that as he rid Post , Said , he met with Aristaeus Ghost . Trudging as fast as he could Trot Into another World , ( I 'le lay a Pot. ) Then sought they to bury his Corps underground , But no Aristaeus could be found . It seems he was but in a Swound , Some body fetcht him again , I 'le be bound . But after Seven years the story rehearses , He appear'd for a while with a Paper of Verses , Call'd Arimaspaei , and then vanisht , As if into Hades he had been banisht . Three hundred years after , as it had been a Vision , He shew'd himself , after so long Disparition . After he had wandred out of Breath , And play'd Bopeep so often with Death ; He dyed at last , and dyed in deed , Made no more hast than good speed . His Statue erected stood in Wind and Weather , Was never made of Running Leather . Clazomenes , the same that his Soul did down lay , And took it agen for an hour and a day . Cleomenes Astipulaeus all in the Dark , To escape his Foes , shut himself in an Ark : And by a cleanly conveyance out fled , Which was a sign he was not dead . If you had trac'd him 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , You might have overtook him upon the Rode-a . Zamolxis was an honester Knave , Dwelt in a Subterranean Cave ; Thereby to deceive the Scythian Nation , By Pythagoras's Soul Transmigration ; You may believe , if you will , this Relation . For this and such like stories are as good , As the Tales of Tom Thumb , or Robin Hood . Did the Conjurer play fair , That lockt Old Nick in th' Inchanted Chair ? It seems by contract on a day , He came to fetch his Soul away . Whom the better to beguile , The Witch pray'd to sit down a while . He quickly found himself supplanted , Must not rise till a longer Lease be granted .

CANTO XIII . At Babels Hell confounded Spire , We Giants began first to aspire . I know not how we were derided , And all our Company divided . This spoil'd our Job , that fatal Day , We were all glad to run away . We ne're had the luck thus , Never to know the Hand that struck us . But in Aegypts famous Land , We were taught better to understand , What belongs to a Command , And how none should dare withstand , What we presume to take in hand . From thence we did advance to Greece , Where we got the Golden Fleece . Philosophers and Poets woe us , But hang 'um , they long to undo us . Travelling Sophs came in like Fools , To work Journey-work with our Tools . A flock of Owls staring and hooting , Gave their attendance at our mooting . The young Scholars were our Darlings , We had many pleasant Parlings . They lov'd to see us in our Fits , And we delighted in fresh Wits . The Moon labouring in Eclipse by us Strumpets , Calls for Cymbals , Drums and Trumpets , Homer's Ballads , Hesiod's Ditties , Were the Inventions of Witches . Bring in the Ashes of a Flower , And bring them back to try your power . Play Tricks by Magick Aspersions , To entail Mischiefs upon Reversions . Apelles Alexander painted so gay , As made Bucephalus neigh. The Birds peckt Zeuxis's Grapes , but the Boy Did not fright them from that Toy . Parrhasius Curtain of Lawn , Was attempted to be drawn . We rockt and knockt Jove in his Cradle , He made Latona's Eggs Adle . Idaei Dactyli hug'd in our Arms , Found out the Six Ephesian Charms . Thence grew the Proverb , as they say , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . The Greeks stole the false Palladium , Aeneas brought the true to Latium . Apuleius , Jannes and Jambres , Apollonius Thyanaeus , came out of our Chambers . Semhamphorash's dark Intentions , Palestine Lots were our Magick Inventions . King Prusius feared more by half Than Hannibals , the words of a Calf : But Caesar wafted to Africa , Tho all the Augurs did gainsay . Alexander marching to the Red-Sea , Was bid halt , 'cause a Bird stood in his way ; But Mosellanus shoots and kills her , saying , She could not save her self by staying . Plato's Commonwealth was ground by Mice , In Tully's Study , that day that Cateline did Rise . Troy's enduring Ten years Test , Was charg'd on Chalca's Sparrows Nest . To Midas's mouth Ants carried Wheat , From Plato's , Bees suckt Honey meat . I doubt this and that Feat , Were no better than a Cheat. Varro at Cannae fouly falls , Not celebrating the Circaean Festivals . The German Prophecy disannuls us , By that Neck Verse , Vulpes , Leo , Nullus . Pompey , Julius , Augustus , Tony , Lepidus the idle Chrony . Candidates for Universal Rule , Augustus rid th' Imperial Mule . Delphos basely Philipiz'd , Sybils Caesar Idoliz'd . He may be Lord , or any thing , But he must not be a King . Caligula swept the way from Rome , And sprinkled it as far Belgium . He marcht with Forty thousand Men , Fetcht Cockle-shells and so came home agen . We dine at the Philosophers Table , Scorning to be amongst the Rabble . In Muses Chamber we come Into Apollo's Dining-Room . In Plato's Academy we stalk , Zeno 's Porch , Aristotles Walk , Ptolomy's Library we scan , And study in the Vatican . If on a Tree ten thousand Figs , If in Sows belly be ten Pigs . Chalcas and Mopsus could not agree , 'Bout this famous Controversie . Lady Hypasia understood Cartesius , Better than men do Hobs or Amesius . Bacchus , Garagantua's red Noses , Pantagruel's triple Chin discloses . Pythias sinks into the Cell , Sits brooding t'hatch an answer from Hell . Virgins Menstrua's cannot breed , Without help of the Male Seed . Egyptian Hieroglyphicks we write , Delphos Oracles we endite . We wash the Ethiopian white , Choak the fair Day with black Night . ‘ My Spirit 's up , all in a heat , ‘ Ready to bewitch all I meet . ‘ Keep off ye Dogs , ye mungrel Curs , ‘ For fear I make more dismal Stirs . ‘ Fools and Slaves will needs be ridden , ‘ By Rogues and Knaves before they 're bidden . ‘ Perhaps sometimes I may relent , ‘ But I can never Repent . ‘ Who dares lay an Embargo , ‘ In any Port , upon my Cargo ? Alcaeus was a Giant able , To purge more than the Augaean Stable . Scavengers , Fencers , Fidlers , Dancers , Mimicks , Players , and Romancers . Patching Matchevilian Tinkers , Mummers , Roary Tory Drinkers . Menippus watches , jeers and winks , Epicurus Hogsty stinks . Each Deipnosophist has his Punk , And murders his Rival Drunk . O Rome , Jove must be Capitoline , Before he be acknowledg'd Thine . And Mars must be Quirival , Or else not own'd for a God at all . The Monky stroaks the Carved Crown , And calls him pitiful dull Clown . Thyestes Rapes , and monstrous Feast , Declare him a very Beast . Oedipus the Ridler , such another , Fill'd Jocasta his Mother . Dionysius rob'd Jove of his Robe of Gold , Too hot for Summer , for Winter too cold . The same bold King was not afear'd , To spoil Aesculapius of his Beard . To wear a Beard , a sawcy Son , When his Father had none . Why was Apollo always young ? With Lyes , when will Hermes a done ? The Ass , whose wit lies in his Tail , Gives Palm to Cuckow from Nightingale . Issa Bills sweeter than the Dove , Or Venus the Goddess of Love . Issa's more blith than Molls or Cisses , No Pearls can value Issa's Kisses . What Issa's this ? 'T is Publius's Bitch , O she was a Roguish Witch . A Dog in Ladies Bed hath room , Not forgetting her rank Groom . Publius dallies with his Bitch , Better than with his Laundress Witch . Catullus bills his Sparrow , a poor Trade , Rather than his Boy or Maid . Take heed of eating Turky Cocks , That make men out of love with Smocks . Who but one troubled with the Brimps , Would pick up Mal Cutpurses Nymphs ? If fair Ladies had not been chaste , Joan would not be look'd upon in haste . A Fairy Else in Cradle chang'd , Grows up for a Witch to be hang'd . See you a fawning Saint , look to your Hits , When she gets into her mad Fits . A demure simpring Saint is naught , The still Sow eats up all the Draught . Tell us of Fictions and Chimaera's , Aegyptian Epocha's and Aera's . Reckon Solar or Lunar years , Before , or since Adam appears . How Muliters and Grooms Crowded into Imperial Rooms . Draw Lots with Lybians for your Dads , Mothers are sure to Bastard Lads . Verus Emperor , by a Pleonasmus , Buried honourably his Horse Panasmus . Others clad Saints , by scornful Jests , In Devils , Fools Coats , Skins of Beasts . Is there a Magnetick Sphere ? Or a Revolution of Plato's Year ? When all in the same shape shall appear , Or is all this but a Jeer ? Apollonius understood the Sparrows Tale , ( If you please , o're a Pot of Ale . ) To a Flock of Sparrows , That at the Gate An Ass had spill'd a Sack of Wheat . An Elm with Female voice articulate , Welcom'd Apollonius to the Gate , Where Aegyptian Gymnosophists sate . Orpheus taught the Postern Lust , Of Boys or Brutes , Buggery just . Tell me , you that say 't is a Tale , How Vulturs breed without a Male ? Amphyctione , a Virgin pure , Before her Husband Aristo knew her , Conceiv'd Plato by Apollo ; Who could Divine what would follow ? Whether Athens or Rome had the best Laws ? Caesar or Pompey the better Cause ? Clazomenes , his Soul made a Sally Out of his Body into a Vally : For a Diversion now and then , To take the Air , and home agen . But for fear he should be too bold , He hasted least it should be cold . Euphorbus the Ivy-thigh and Shouldred-Boy , Wore Plato's Soul at the Wars of Troy . If Nero had the Senate at a Beck , What need he wish them all but one Neck ? ‘ After all this , ask me the Reason , why ‘ You think I 've told so many a Lye ? ‘ I 'le answer you by and by , ‘ I don't know when I shall be drawn dry . ‘ When the World 's honester and better , ‘ I shall cease to be a Setter . ‘ I 'le promise you , when all the Store ‘ Of Rogues are took , I 'le hunt no more . ‘ I 'm just like others of my kind , ‘ That never any Goddess mind : ‘ And yet I cannot but commend ‘ Vertue , and Vice reprehend . ‘ And howsoe're I seem to rail , ‘ Vertue will hold , and Vice will fail . ‘ And though I Rant it at this rate , ‘ The Truth is , Hell must be our Fate . ‘ Howe're from Goodness we turn Tail , ‘ Honesty will at length prevail . ‘ You may be honest still , ‘ Tho it be against our will . ‘ You may be just , tho we ‘ Desperate resolve to be . ‘ And so at last I Congee make , ‘ And you may better Courses take . ‘ Leave us then , for we 're resolv'd ‘ To be damn'd , as long as damning will hold . ‘ Tho you promote Vice in Fact or Letter , ‘ If you love your selves , you will grow better . ‘ After all this you may mend , ‘ But we shall never make good End . ‘ You may take care to bless your selves , ‘ Tho we be ever Cursed Elves . ‘ Thus by us you may be befriended , ‘ Tho you 're good , we ne're intended . ‘ So out of Evil , Good may come , ‘ We are past hopes , and know our Doom . ‘ Leave us then , tho we ne're leave you , ‘ All our aim is to deceive you . ‘ You may deceive us , if you can , ‘ And be saved every Man . ‘ So we bid you all , Farewel , ‘ For our Portion is Hell .

CANTO XIV . Mexicans do strangely dote-a , Upon their Almanack called Rota : Of Fifty years Calculation , For the Worlds final Termination . Then they must break all their Pots , And Utensils , as useless Lots ; Who can unty these knots ? Go Nine miles to such a Bull , 'T is but next door to get a Trull . Whither Americans came by Sea or Land , From Tartary or China's Strand . If they 're such fools to stretch their Gartars , And return to enlarge their Quarters ; It were better to be no Starters . For they have room enough to dwell , If they could see when they are well . Besides , will they leave their Gold , To endure Hunger and Cold ? How was Vespasian at a stand , When a Dog brought him a dead man's Hand ? He set the Game , took Scent for Judaea , To be the Roman Eagles Prey . He wagg'd his Tail for Syrian Land , An Omen , He should there Command . At Altar , take it for a Flam , An Heifer , forsooth , brought forth a Lamb. But oh , the Ox , of Wonders a Million ! Came to Vespasian's Pavilion : Prostrating , you may see by his Eyes , He beg'd to be a Sacrifice . Vespasian , to Miracles enur'd , With Clay a blind man's Eyes he cur'd . Herodotus wisely uses , To tell Stories by the name of Muses . So I usurp the Witches Name , If they lye , to take away the Shame . He says plainly , the Tale of Troy Was blind Homer's Fiction , that old Boy . The Tale of Aeneas and Dido , Was Virgil 's Olei putredo . Pansas the Painter was cunning , For a Horse tumbling , drew him running . To save his Credit , as he was able , Horse-heels turn'd upward , by turning the Table . Aeneas , Romulus were no Dastards , For they were Mars and Venus Bastards . Centaurs and Hermaphrodites may be proud , To be begot of Ixion's Cloud . Of Apollo , what can we conclude , Father of Poets , for his Verses rude ? He that inspir'd a lofty Strain , How had he such a dull Vein ? But he is silenc'd and suspended , And all his false Prophecies ended . But to admire , the greatest odds , Is the Burial of all the Gods . In Countries where they have been most fam'd , Strange , now they 're not so much as nam'd ! And of their Names we should be to seek , Were it not for the Days of the Week . But still we hold it out lusty , Tho you count us old and musty . We understand , by Yea and Nay , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , And Triasunt Omnia . I have travell'd too and agen , Could ne're see Pigmies , or One-ey'd men . Cybele was not over Chaste , Yet her Priests must be cut-short i' th' Waste . It seems her Holiness is Wise , None but Eunuchs must sacrifice . The Mother of the Gods , tho by her favour , Might be of better Behavour , And her Rites have more good Flavour . Old Jove kept Sol ty'd to his Bed , Till Alcumena was fully sped . Orpheus went down to Hell , to find Eurydice ; was fain to leave her behind , Then to stay amongst her kind . Ceres would have rescu'd the Rape Of Proserpine ; but she could not scape . ‛ Sted of returning to Mums Pap , She chose to stay in Pluto's Lap. What were the Ingredients of the Bole , That intoxicated Cerberus's Pole ? Lull'd three Heads and six Eyes asleep , Hercules drag'd him from the Deep . Where the scowling Curs Foam , Impregnated the Fatter Loam . Which breeds the Aconite Bane ; Was not this Labour in Vain ? Whither fly th' Atoms of the Day , Or the Nightingale past May ? Confluxes of Primordial Seeds , Are Causes of several Breeds , Which fill the Earth with pois'nous Weeds . Which may be good to kill the Flees , Besides Omens and Prodigies . Other great Lords and Ladies Got nothing , by descending into Hades .

CANTO XV. Socrates was given to Toys , Committed Sodomy with Boys . Phaedo came reeking from the Stews To Plato's School , this was no News . Dionysius took Plato by the Sweet-Tooth , A Trencher-Chaplain , forsooth . Democritus bor'd out his Eyes in all haste , Of purpose , that he might be Chaste . Aristotle was very base , To put his Friend Hermias out of his Place . The same man flattered Alexander , Because he was a great Commander . Aristippus in Purple play'd the Sot , His seeming Gravity lov'd the Pot. Who would not send their Sons to School , if 't were no more , Than to learn , how to get a Whore ? Aristippus had Laïs , As right , as the Corinthian Thaïs . Aristippus had all Gratis , Because he brought her Pupils Satis . Truly her Wits did not wander , She had a Philosopher for her Pander . That Youths , by their Masters Fame , Might frequent her without shame . Yet this Man , give him his Due , Is preser'd 'fore all the Gowned Crew . Severus cry'd , O Jupiter , O all ye Gods , Ar●banus , and such as he , 't is odds . They all live , and live so , As into Senate to come and go . Plato was crafty , false and loud , And all his Scholars prov'd proud . Socrates and Plato were Cuckolds and Panders , And yet all their Geese were Ganders . Philosophers seek to mend us , And will mend themselves , ad Graecas Calenda● . When the Geese piss Holy-Water , I dare not be their Compurgator . Thus in the World we daily see Far greater Atheists , than we . We 're such by Practise and Vocation , But they , by Deed and Speculation . By the Laws of Oleron , ( I had almost said of Oberon ) Trial of Ordial , hot Plow-shares , Fighting with Swords and Spears . But by Water , sink or swim , This is the right Witches Trim ; This ducking make my eyes grow dim . But the wiser Rhodian Rules Had no such Tricks , made no such Fools , 'T is bad jesting with Edg'd Tools . Those that are high-flown i' th' Crown , The Jovial Boys in all the Town . What tho they wear a Sword or Gown ? I say , such Rascals must come down . But for a poor old Toothless Dame , T' endure the Water , or the Flame . Watch whole Nights and Days , 't is a Shame , And Hang , or Burn at last , there goes the Game . ‘ Hitherto , afore and aft , ‘ I 've labour'd t' uphold my own Craft . ‘ But with all I 've done my best , ‘ To beat down Hypocrisie and Interest . ‘ Those of all Sins would vex a Saint , ‘ Create just Causes of Complaint : ‘ For tho I be ne're so base , ‘ I loath that damn'd confounded Case . ‘ In this I know all of our kind , ‘ Will be exactly of my mind . ‘ Should Perfius 's Muse , or Juvenal 's tart Quean , ‘ Scold , till they should be cuckt in Hyppocrene . ‘ And having garbled every Sect , ‘ Invent strange Vices , only to correct . ‘ 'Mongst all their Gaol-delivery of Sins , ‘ Nothing there is whereat their Satyr grins , ‘ So bad as these . ‘ Tho we are counted damn'd Infection , ‘ We could give th' opprest Protection . ‘ And so bewitch the Extorting Furies , ‘ As to provide them Harpies Juries . ‘ To hang them up in th' Air a drying , ‘ Or Press them , to be long a dying . ‘ Send them therefore to us , and we 'l scour'um , ‘ Cut them out in Sippets and devour'um . ‘ Teach them to oppress Mortals so , ‘ Without difference 'twixt Friend and Foe . Tell us plainly , in a Word , Why Devils abhor a naked Sword ? Why Spirits are afraid to enter , Into an enchanted Circles Center : And yet a hungry Mouse shall venter , And a Cat after her to shent her ? Why are the Northern Devils worst , And of all others most Accurst ? Whither Enceladus's Tomb , Under Aetna's Fiery Room , Be the cause of that Flame and Smoke , Which the poor Neighbours burn and choke ? What is Entelechia , I trow , Pluto's Idaea , that none can know ? Whither do those Spirits fly , Darted from an Enchanting-Eye ? What are the Rules of Fascination ? Or the Best Forms of Incantation ? Whether 't is worth a Revelation , If Chrystal be Ice of harder Congelation ? If Coral be under water soft , And hardens when it comes aloft ? If Diamonds yield to Pistillation ? If Goats-blood makes softness , or duration ? We need not the tryal of Ordeal , To know if Gold be a Cordial . If Porcellane or China-Ware , No less than an Age can prepare ? If it rain Wheat , if Sheep drink ? If Goats are sweet , or Jews stink ? If Oak-Apples shew the Fates , Or if Camphire Eunuchates ? Whether Vipers eat their way Out of their Dams belly , as they say ? If it rains Porridge , I wiss , We may chance to lack a Dish ? Whether the old Accubations , Be the best postures at Collations ? If it rain on Egypts ground ? If Nilus measuring Wand be found ? With what Glasses Archimedes did Ships burn ? What Engine he had the Earth to turn ? Shew me Cocks-Eggs , and Crows white ? Turn me days into night ? Teach me to walk out of sight ? Give me the true Weapon-Salve ? Tell me what my Cow shall Calve ? Shew me that fine Sight , Where the Devils painted White ? Ephialtes , have a care , Whether it be Horse or Mare ? Graecia mendax , Crete a Glutton , If Rogues or Whores best love Mutton ? If Gypsies be conterfeit Moors ? The Spaniards turn'd the true out of doors . Jews and Gypsies , the only Nations , That do Penance Peregrinations . After wandring Dissipations , Shall they ever have Fixations ? Gypsies are the Grand Signior's Spies , Imploy'd to fetcht and carry Lies . If St. George , that fighting Saint , Was ever , as they now him paint ? If Homer dyed by a Riddle ? If Amphion to Fishes did Fiddle ? If the Stork eats Snakes ? Which the Ass loves best , Grass or Brakes ? If a Star on Hemlock baits ? If Hannibal knockt at Romes Gates ? What is Fortune , or the Fates ? If for any thing Mushrooms are good ? If any Islands were before the Flood ? If Blood and Smoke be Daemons Food ? Mahomet 's Camel , Livy 's Ox , Neapolitan , or Indian Pox ? Tell me , if poor Robin Ruck , Be the Author of good Luck ? Why Gentlemen Ushers have slender Legs ? Of what use are Muscadine and Eggs ? Where are the Fragments of the Ark ? Is not China a great Park ? Tell me the Noblest sort of Roses ? The best Persian and Roman Noses ? If Orestes was bewitcht , Or if his guilty Conscience itcht ? Paracelsus dyed in the Portal Of 's Age , that would make men Immortal . Milo at th' Olympiads carried an Ox , And after eat it up , with a Pox. Whether Gyges his Ring , Discover'd every invisible thing ? Shew me the Sabbatick Stream , Of which the Rabbi Jews dream ? Sferra Cavallo serves to loose Iron Locks , and Horses Shoes . Had Scipio that Picklock from the Fates , He needed not so long battery at Carthage Gates ? Are Catadupae , one and all , Deaf as Millars , with Nilus Fall ? Why Tulips never bear a Blew ? Why Harlots wear a Virgin Hue. If Virgil was a Plagiary ? How he came to be so Airy ? If Vulturs all Females be , How were they got without a He ? The Clergy may wish the Tenth Egg best ; This is as true as all the rest . If there be true Giants Bones ? Aetites , or true Eagles Stones ? Tell me , if Husbands be Proxies , In Labour , to secure their Doxies ? Tell me , that Queen that ●ate I' th' Lap of her Fathers Assassinate ? Had she the heart , a beastly Trull , To quaff with him in her Fathers Skull ? If Mahomet's Tomb , O Rare , Hangs like a Meteor in the Air ? Magnetick Rocks , Chalybiat Mountains , Salt Springs , or Petrifying Fountains ? Why no Blacks in America , Tho the same Clime with Africa ? First Spawn , next Tadpole , last Frog , More work with them , than to make a Dog . Iron Filaments weav'd to a Cloth , ( To tell y' a Lye I would be loth . ) Resist the Fire , if my Wit don't wander , More than the suppos'd Salamander . Could Vinegar eat out a way For Hannibal , o're the Alpes , I pray ? How Philtrums , Ligatures , and Charms , Lustrations , Amulets , Characters do harms ? Anaxagoras , after a Bowl of Sack , Affirmed , that Snow was Black . Who was Autopta , but Adam ? What Mother had he , but Ceres Madam ? Ptolomy's Account was but from Nebonazzar , Who is the same with Salmonassar . Chaldaean Records , counted most good , Got up no higher than the Flood . Arcadians rose very soon . Reckoning Elder than the Moon . The Sabbatick Seven thousand Year , Stops the Course of every Sphere . Tell me Chronologists , most sober , Began the World in March or October ? In the Moons Full , or Prime , Was the Beginning of Time ? He shall be Mine and Apollo's Friend , That tells me , when the World shall end ? Butter will silence Bombylation , Earth and Blood have Circulation . Opium and Scammony will dead the blows , In Dog days tell me it Snows . Tartars vegetable Lamb , The Food of Wolves , is but a Flam. As if you said , a Sheep or Ram , Or the Devil and his Dam. Bernacles or Goose Trees , Remora's , Common-wealth of Bees , At the North Pole Words Freez , Honesty lyes by the Lees. I should as soon endure Drunkenness , Statary for a Cure . In Nature , which is East and West ; In Morals , which is Worst or Best ? Of all Truths we may make a Jest , Need never come to be Confest . Hunt after those strange Sights , Of Hares being Hermaphrodites . If Hares change Sexes too and agen , 'T is work for Lawyers now and then . But not to lay all upon Hares , Nero's Coach was drawn by Hermaphrodite Mares . Hares multiply both ways , To make work for Hunters now-a-days . Strange Mysteries in Generations , Hares and Womens Superfoetations . Hares have Retro-Vrinations , As also Retro-Copulations . A Creature hard of finding , Every way turning and winding ; Are their Laws always binding ? Was Judas hang'd upon an Eldar ? ( Here 's a Health to Hanse in Keldar . ) At the Root do Jews-Ears spring , For Quinsies , Medicine for a King . Could strangling such Virtue bring , To cure Choaking ? sing Hey ding ding ▪ Sir John Mandevil tells Ctesia's Tales , We are all drinking in Wales , 'T will make us merry in Hills and Dales . Where does the Eagle make his Nest , Why Storks affect Republicks best . 'T is a very prety Jest , And much like all the rest . Whores would leave Savin , if Brakes or Fearn Would serve as well to kill a Bearn . Phylla and Mercury produces Boys , Which most of all are Womens Joys . Dog finds his Master in the Night , Sooner than an Honest man by Light . If I should take Pliny the Naturalist , The Two thousand Authors Rhapsodist . Or Athenaeus of the same kind , I could not better please my mind . Why did Augustus's Pontifex Sacrifice , To Vulcan Ten thousand Prophecies ? In contempt of Apollo's Rites , Erected the Order of Twelve Knights . See plainly Nisa's Golden Lock , And the Ship Argos in the Dock ; Bootes in his Boots and Frock . The great Syracuse Bulk , Holds Barns and Stables in her Hulk . When all Tongues were boyl'd in a Pot , Was Lingo Franc the Scum , or not ? Tell us , how Hydra's Seven Heads , Slept all together in their Beds ? How Argus's hundred Eyes were bob'd ? And the golden Orchard rob'd ? The amorous Moon , stole to her Minion , Whole Nights kissing , sleeping Endymion . Caveare , Sack-Possits , and Cock Treadings , Were they Dishes us'd at Weddings ? In Naturalibus putis puris , I pray resolve me Quid Juris ? Tell me whence Reason and Speech spring , If we see or hear Nothing ? Why the Rich , that have no need of Dinners , Can find in their hearts to eat up poor Sinners ? To be took by the Teeth , or be took by a Bribe , Prevails more than the Learning of a Scribe . You 'l ask me , Will I ne're a done ? Tilt the Hogshead , make it run . Many foul Faults I have forgotten , You 'l find the worst in the Bottom . War wherries Rome for Fluctus Decimanus , At Thule who shall entertain us ? Procopii opera Anecdota , Were call'd Arcana Historia . In which Justinian was blam'd , And Bellisarius defam'd . To blast those Hero's he was not asham'd , With whom the same day he was not to be nam'd ▪ So Epicurus , Seneca , Nicholas , of great Fames For Vertue , for Vice got unlucky Names . A Trick has been too often us'd , For Gallant men to be abus'd . Occult Qualities , is a poor Come off , The last Refuge for a Cavelling Soph. I observe in all my Travels , Adam and Eve painted with Navels . A Midwife will resolve you , that none Are so , but such as are bred and fed in the Womb. Absyrtes scatter'd Limbs , who tore And re-joyn'd them ; but that Witch Whore , Now I 'm quite spent , I must give o're .

CANTO XVI . But first I 'le handle some Law Points , That are torn and rackt out of Joints . 'T is the great Design of Law , To keep us Witches most in Aw . Laws are good , but manag'd so , As to manage our deadly Blow . Then have at some for all their Threats , For putting us into cold Sweats . Have at those Pety-Foggers that fright us , And for our Craft so oft Indict us . At Tyburn with Halters you make us take Turns , At Smithfield you furnish us with Faggots and Urns. Law sleeps , you say , but never dyes , I wonder when she opens her Eyes ; You take us all for Whores and Spies . 'T is for our health to make Discoveries , If it be possible , of all Recoveries . But of Recoveries it is complain'd , Some are True , and some are Feign'd . A True one , rightly got , is a just Eviction , A False one , wrongly got , is a bad Fiction . To this pass it is now grown , We can settle Estates , that are none of our own . And destroy other mens , without Attainder , Which are truly theirs in Reversion or Remainder . For this , enter into the Scene , The Stage-Players with their Bands starcht clean . The Demandant , or the Recoverer , The Vouchee , or the Discoverer . These two Knavishly agree With the Knave Tenant , the Recoveree . If then you would cut off the Entail , Of Land you give , or put to Sale , For ever , from the Heirs Male . For a feign'd Entry , you must be at Cost , Sur Disseisin en la Post . This feigned Tenant , Lug him by th' Ears , Is to appear in the Court of Common Pleas. For a Wilful Default , a Writ of Seisin flyes , For the Tenant against the Voucher of Lyes . Who is the poor Bag-bearer unlanded , To warrant the Heir in Tail , if you understand it , And you may , when you please Command it . Ned Hones , the Bag-bearer was He , That was for Thirty years Common Vouchee . To whom past the greatest part of English Ground , For his own Lands , which could never be found . To answer the Remainder in Tail , That the Recovery might never fail . Thus for all you have a Warrant , Which is some pitiful Knight Errand . To prevent Everlasting War , This is an Everlasting Bar. All this passes through the hand Of the Common Hang-Land . This is the famous Alienation , That runs from generation to generation . The Statute of Westminster the Second , they say , Was made to hinder , this foul play . But this is suffered by Men of Parts , Because of the hardness of mens Hearts . I wonder before 'um All , How this passes in Judgment Hall . Things of this Nature long time have proceeded , 'T is high time such Gardens should be weeded . Inofficiosi Testamenti Querela , Iniquae Praeteritionis est Medela . A Ranting Son must have his Merit , His Father may him Disinherit . The Dutiful Son , without Extortion , May come in for a Childs Portion . It is Justice in all Laws , To Disinherit none without a Cause . Minors , Fools , Prodigals and Mad , From Praetor Guardians and Tutors had . So to preserve Estates , 't was fit , For such as should have more Honesty and Wit. A Father refuses his Daughter to marry , At Five and twenty she need not tarry , In the mean time , she 's like to miscarry . Then , without his consent , her self she may wed , To a Chaste equal marriage Bed . And being then in her own Power , He 's bound to allow her a fit Dower , She may make her Husband a Cuckold each hour . Is the Case rightly stated , By Bedding Matrimony is consummated . Reason of Law gives better content , Marriage is compleated by Consent . In a Thing Common , at first sight , The Usurper seems t' have the best Right . 'T were better said , Hath the most Might , We may bid all Justice good Night ; Such things as these are very Tight . If an Evil deed be done , And a bad Consequence thereupon run . The Post Fact , by Estimation , Is counted no good Augmentation , How can this be Rectum in Curia , Scienti non fit Injuria ? Because I see and feel my Loss , I must come home by Weeping Cross . An Obligation by Words alone , By other Words is overthrown . This is to give and take a Thing , a Rambling Will , Runs round like a Horse in a Mill. But if you go among the Moors , They 'l turn such a Rascal out a Doors . In some Case , a man may not act in another man's Name , Tho , with his Consent ; Is not this a Shame ? He that shall begin an Action , May stop it , without a Fraction : But why is there no Coaction , To prevent endless Distraction . To have the Thing , and t' have the Right , Seem to run parallel at first sight ; But all 's overcome by Might . Sued to an Outlary , and never know it , Pay the Mony , and nothing to shew it . The Cheating Rogue you shall never find , Have a care always , before and behind . This can't be revok't for many a Crown , As soon turn Westminster Hall upside down ; For this have a care of the Men of the Gown . The Law tells you what Fear is Just , But be a Constant man you must ; But still have a Care whom you trust ▪ Because my Goods , to a Carrier-deliver'd , Are sold by him , they can ne're be recover'd . If an Officer steals the Kings Artillery , He can only stand in the Pillory : Or lye in Prison , 'till the next Gaol-Delivery , Or wear a Paper Livery . An Interest , as we read , From Law , not from Fact , shall proceed : Why not from both , if there be need ? It is no part of my Creed . Is there less Right , Ask the King , In the Action , than the Thing ? Hallow Boys , make all the Bells ring , At every Turning and Winding . A Debt is due at such a Time , When the Cause is in its Prime : To ask for 't , Till that 's past it shall be a Crime , To speak , out of the Nick of Time . Why should Counsel for Common-Strife , Be refused for a man's Life ? Why should a Man Swear for the King , That never knew of such a Thing ? He hath no Sin , they say , That Sins because he must Obey : And because he don't say Nay , On whom then shall the Fault lay ? He that obeys an unjust Command , For an Innocent must stand . 'T is no Justice worth a Straw , To make Necessity a Law . When once by Law a thing is Bad , Necessity makes it good , O mad ! Non Expressa non nocent , Tales Honestatem non docent . Tho Honesty be not exprest , 'T is the meaning of all the rest . And we must take the Sense that 's Best , Or else we defile our own Nest . Res Iudicata accipitur pro Veritate , Makes Pro Judicii Majestate . A Wrong Judgment is took for True , Not so in Hell , give 'um their Due . Let Judges look better to their Causes , Not to be excus'd by such lamentable Clauses . The Condemn'd Innocents will never cease , To condemn such Innocent Judges as these . Just so the Physician kills by the Book , As the Lawyer does by hook and by crook . Ignorance and Bribery destroys Mens Lives and Fortunes , O brave Boys . This makes for us , for to these we are Saints , We never admit of unjust Complaints . Examine how by Lawyers Skill , Causes are grounded in a Mill. The best Rule is , Non remittitur Peccatum , But least observ'd , Nisi restituatur Ablatum . It runs in Rhime , and is great Reason , And the performance ne're out of Season . But you shall find men of the best Constitution , Never guilty of so good a Conclusion . Alas , it would be counted Intrusion , To bring into the World such monstrous Confusion . Shall a Cause be cast , for lack of a Letter , Or a false Name by a Rascally Setter ? Or the misdating a Minute of Time , Be counted an Incorrigible Crime ? 'Cause solemn Forms must not be chang'd , Therefore a True man must be hang'd ? By a Mistake Truth is Confuted , So is many an honest Man basely Cornuted . Why do Jurisconsults tell such Stories , Durior est Causa Petitoris . The wronged Supplicant hath favour Lesser , Than the cursed Oppressor . And all , because he is Possessor , As if thereby his Crime were Lesser . If these things be done by these Law Rooks , The Devil sends Meat , and the Devil sends Cooks . In Causes of Gain , 't is much observ'd , The Rule is , First come , first serv'd . Should it be so in Justice too , Then run Boys for Game , Alas , Aloo . Righteous Dealing shall never find room , When Justice and Charity begins at home . A man of Estate , and flourishing Condition , Shall never be taken upon Suspicion . But a poor Honest man is ever neglected , And without cause is ever suspected . If a good Cause be not put in a right state , Shall a Judge therefore put it out of Date ? For a small failure , that may be Recruited , Shall an Honest man forthwith be Nonsuited ? In Formâ Pauperis to Sue , Is the same as to come short of your Due . If a Process by a Knave be unduly took , An Honest man for his Cause may go look . Estates , we may say , without Suspicion , Are Absolute , or on Condition : That is to say Allode or Fee , A● Goths and Vandals did agree . Littleton labours Tooth and Nail , To make them Fee Simple or Fee Tail . Fee Simple is a Contradiction , And for the Tail it lacks Friction . Simple and Absolute are all one , As is a Fee and a Condition . Whip'um soundly , my Maid Alecto , For a Contradiction in eodem Adjecto . When there is most need of Reges , Inter Armasilent Leges . It is the Burden of a Song , A Post Fact shall increase no Wrong . In all my Spells past and gone , I ne're met with the Spirit Formedon . The Romans never heard of Battels , As now there are , 'twixt Lands , Goods and Chattels An Heir and an Executor divided , For this our Law is much derided . What is that horrid Affidavit , Of Felonice Murderavit ? If the Law be the bare Letter , How shall Equity fare better ? I like well the word Habendum , I can't endure his Fellow Reddendum . To abate a lawful Writ , To make causeless Demurrer , is not fit . To be judg'd by old Reports , Are the Benches Dernier Resorts . Tho there 's variety in Cases , As much or more as there is in Faces . To kill a Thief se Defendendo , Deserves not a Reprimendo . But what if Ego me Suspendo , Then of a Fool there is an Endo . John an Okes and John a Stile , Dwell but within half a Mile . Baron and Feme , Felons together , Shall not both hang in wind and weather . The Man is streightned with a Rope , But the good Wife shall have her Scope . Shee s reckoned nothing at all , Accessory nor Principal . Because she must be always at hand , To obey her Husband's Command ; He bids her steal , let him bid her be Hang'd . Tho a Feme doth steal or kill , She is suppos'd to have no Will . We can't come off so when we do harm , Tho we be under Covert Barn . What is the Action upon the Case ? He seems to have a broad brazen Face . He looks to be always the same , Yet he ever lackt a Name . Reason , Reason of Law , Reason of State , How it swells to a wondrous Rate ? To be condemned for Fraud or Theft , To lose his Right hand , of which he was bereft ; What think you , Shall he lose his Left ? Murder and Manslaughter , Which is which , Mother or Daughter ? We shall not know them asunder hereafter . Chance-medly to Murther is no near Kin , 'T is a Misery , no Sin . In Natures Laws they are not skilful , That say , all other Homicide is not Wilful . Is it not a sudden Passion ? Excuses for Life lost in such a fashion . Tho there were no Malice Prepense , To aggravate so great Offence . Because every mad Fool is crost , A wise Man's life must not be lost . Malice , Passion , and Pride shews , By giving of such fatal Blows . Omnia quae movent ad mortem , Must undergo the same sortem . The Law requires Life , Lands and Goods , For the Wilful spilling of Bloods . No Life , but Goods only for Manslaughter , 'T is pity it should be so hereafter . Tho it be Se Defendendo , It shall have the same Reprehendo . But that which is of all the Core , Felo de se suffers no more . If a Thief rob and break no door , Is he no Felon therefore ? And if he chance in fear to fly for 't , Doth he then deserve to dye for 't ? Fear no harm shall come near ye , Idem est non esse , & non apparere . Trust Aristotle 's Ipse dixit , Qui benè latuit , benè vixit . The Eldest Male must sole Inherit , Tho the rest have much more Merit . What shall they do for better or worse , But Beg , or Steal , or take a Purse ? This will extort many a Curse . This makes them march , against their Will , Along with us , up Holborn Hill : With many a Jack and many a Gill , Who all at Tiburn hang their fill . We never wear Purple-Gowns , But we command Scepters and Crowns . The Men that most converse in Books , Look upon us with wry Looks ; Because we prove them the greatest Rooks. Whether a Custom may break a Law , Whether I stumble at a Straw . Elopement from a Husbands Bower , Forfeits clearly the Wives Dower . The Man loses nothing , though by wilful Mistake He from his Wife Elopement make . Why should the Man only be free , From Matrimonial Treachery ? Ask the Fair rich Lady Pomona , If Lands as well as Chattels be not Bona. Magna Charta & de Foresta , Statute of Marlebridge are the Best-a . The great Petition of Right , We get no benefit by 't . No Habeas Corpus can shent us , Latitat , or Non est Inventus . Exigents or Certioraries , We are in the Land of Fairies . Our Distringas's at the Tree , Where the Hangman gets his Fee . The worst of all that can befall us , Is at the Gallows to Enstall us . Nil Factum , quod non factum Prius , Seldom such Justice you deny us . How sometimes is a Service choakt , Interlocutory Judgment Revok't ? Many Escheats and Primer Seisins , Are contrary to Sense and Reasons . Prodigals , Madmen , Fools by Right , Should have their Guardians all alike : And their Estates by Publick Cares , Prescrib'd for their wiser Heirs . If my stollen Goods be dropt or waiv'd , For me they never shall be sav'd . The Reason why I am defeated , Is , because they are Escheated . I am risen on the wrong side , I must not take them , if brought by the Tide : For help , I know not who shall be my Guide , And which is worse , I must not Chide . Buyers of Justice must sell at last , The Devils do not , all so fast . Rhadamanthus , a brave Lad , Scorns to do a Deed so bad . Politick and Personal Capacities , Are contrary to all Veracities . An Outlary you may stick , if you will , As you do a Bear or Bull. He that to kill is an Instigator , Deserves death as much as the Perpetrator . What think you of Writs of Error , To Innocent Sufferers , a Terror ? Supersedeas , Procedendo's , Rules of Court are no Amendo's . Never Question Pope Joan-a , Moritur Actio cum Personâ . Writs of false Date , The Via Lata , False Charges of Rata pro Ratâ ; Or , if you please , Pro Re natâ . Corpus cum Causa , I ken well , Corpus cum Causa , I can't tell . Mala Grammatica non vitiat Chartam , Sed Mala Causa spoliat Partem . 'T is true , as they say at Falerno , Beato il Filiolo qui Padro in Inferno . I 've made my self a great Dictator , A Magisterial Arbitrator . I censure Lawyers and Sophies , Vaunting with Triumphant Trophies . Not without just Cause , I 'le assure you , We have no Reason to endure you . We tell them their own more clearly , Than they that pretend to love'um so dearly . Others are Meal-mouth'd , dare not speak , We fear no Vengeance to wreak . Tho we don't do , we dare tell Truth , More than the best that cry , Your Servant forsooth . We hold not fit to deal Cum Regibus , Nemo debet esse Sapientior Legibus . I may venture into Curiam , Actus Legis non facit Injuriam . There 's no Writ ad Procedendum , A Communi observantiâ , non est Recedendum . How can there be a Legitimation , Of a Bastard Generation ? Can Edicts , Seals , or Decrees , Purge the Dross of a Spurious Disease ? When Blood in Nature is polluted , How can it be by Law diluted ? The Law grants Priviledges when none due , But no Law can make Falshood true . Civils , not Morals change , I am a Dotard , Once a Bastard , and ever a Bastard . We find in Classical Records , The Lawyers then were Roman Lords . As Noble Patrons they did plead For poor Clients , but scorn to be Fee'd . No Mercenary Tongues there , When Justice was Mistress of the Chair . 'T is an intolerable Abuse , When hackney Tongues and Pens are in use . Then Justice freely had its play , Equity , Rigor did allay . All were punish'd that went astray ▪ The Righteous Case got the Day . The Common Judge was Praetor , and then , Able to give Right to all kind of Men. By this , in glory , peace and health , Florisht that famous Commonwealth . The Law sleeps , but never dyes , Teach me a new way to make Lyes . 'T is a dangerous Innovation , To revive Truth by Reformation . By no means , let all Ill lye quiet , 'T is dangerous to change Diet. Whether Ingratitude make void a Gift , When lowzy , whether I want a Shift ? Before a Monk creeps to his Cell , He makes his Will , then ring the Bell. For the Razor passing his Crown , Into Hades sends him down . And now he 's dead , he can't Revoke , The last Words that e're he Spoke . How can this be Rectum in Curia , Summum Jus , Summa Injuria ? The Heir shall meddle with the Land , But of Goods he has no Command ; For the Reason , I am at a stand . The Abating of a Writ , Is the Abating of Wit. Elegits , Fieri , Scire facias , Ad satisfaciendum Capias . For Twelve-pence stole out of Box , a Thief must dye , For less , if taken from a Person ; Why ? I 'le be an Honest man , live or dye . I am for the Custom of Gavel-kind , By which no Child is left behind . The youngest 'fore the Eldest I never saw Prefer'd , but by Nottingham Law . He that 's best born , is call'd a Mulier , Is not this a Common Law Peculiar ? Shall a Judge condemn by a Process right sent , The Man that he knows to be Innocent ? Justice is ever in Laws well meant . For this find out an Expedient , Forms must not hinder a good Intent . Shall the Discoveror for a Warrant stay , 'Till the Thief or the Murderer be quite run away ? When the false Witness 'gainst the true Man cries , Which shall the Judge believe , his Ears or his Eyes ? When there is matter of Law to act , The shift is , to plead matter of Fact . The Deed is wrong , the Cause is right , So Justice bids us all Good Night . If then this way of Reasoning hold , To do all wrong we may be bold . A brave Rule , much for their Credit , Factum valet fieri non debuit . So the grand Sophs by such false Rules , Make selves and others Knaves and Fools . They talk much of Womens Reasons , But when did we justifie Treasons ? And slubber Crimes so slightly o're , Suffer Hypocrisie to keep the Door . That we are wicked , we can't deny , Yet we 're not so much given to lye ; In this they give us the Go-by . Matter of Fact , Matter of Right , Ever maintain a deadly Fight . O the Rogueries and Cheats , That Men can work by such damn'd Feats . They say Women cannot dispute , But our Honesty can Men confute . We profess no good , therefore defie it ; They profess all good , and deny it . Surely we have as good Brains As they , and do take as much Pains . But they exceed us in the Main , Because they get all the Gain . Philosophy and History , And every profound Mystery . We dare agree with them for their Bones , For all their Philosophers Stones . They hide all Ill by their Gravity , We discover all by our Pravity . Why cannot we be given to Reading , Tho they take up all the Pleading ? They 're glad to come to us a woing , We 're more for knowing , they for doing . Video meliora proboque , We can kill ye , so can they and stroke ye : We stand aloof from sacred Ares , Because our guilt creates our Fears . They draw nigh to holy Fires , To sacrifice with foul Desires . We offer at the Devil's Shrine , Because to serve him we combine . We 'l not compare with Men for Lungs , But dare outvy them all for Tongues . We can contrive , and boldly charge , And send them to look out at large . As Underlings they act our parts , While we study the Curious Arts. We can do more with a Words speaking , Than they with all their pains in seeking . We cut out , they do the rest , They are but our Apes at best . We conquer and get the Day , They carry all the Credit away . Sic vos non vobis fertis aratra Boves , Sic vos non vobis vellificatis Oves . When all comes to all , you Men are dull , A great Cry , but a little Wool . All the Wit is on our side , But you Men take all the Pride . Mira vox aures me as percrepuit , Factum valet Fieri non debuit . The Man was hang'd wrongfully for good and all , 'T is well done , tho it should not have been done at all . The Man 's turn'd out of Home and House , Lands , Goods and Chattels , and 's not worth a Lowse . He must bear it now 't is done , The Constable cannot be out-run . In a dark stormy Night , what hope ? My Life and Estate lies at the end of a Rope . Save me from the Turk and Pope , And Land me at the Cape of good Hope . I had rather be knockt o' th' head at the Altar , Than basely to dye like a Dog in a Haltar . Hearken well what the New Law saith , Pay Debts by Debenturs or Publick Faith . Panormitan , Hottoman , Bartolus , Wesembeck , Godofred , joyn to Cajole us . Navar , Duns , Covar●dvias School us , Masters of Sentences befool us . When cold they can heat us , when hot they can cool us . The Doctors , be the Case good or bad , Can make Clients merry , or sad . Ma●● them sober , or make them mad , St. Thomas of Aquine was a pretty Lad. St. Thomas of Becket was a man of great Fame , But Aristotle was the Cock of the Game . A Company of Witches shall get the Day , Rout 'um , and make 'um all run away . Infatuate 'um , besot 'um and blind 'um . And make 'um leave all their Wits behind 'um . Every Bufflehead and Pickeroon , Gets him a Name , and lyes a Bed till Noon ; As Famous as the Man in the Moon . The Man of the Dwarfs or Giants Statures , The Man of two Names , and the Man of two Natures . You need not for Lawyers and Schoolmen call , For we know as much as the best of 'um all . Intelligent Spirits are the Masters that teach us , In nothing but Law can you over-reach us . 'T is that Letter alone that strikes us dead , Tho all the Arguments we knock on the head . By murdering Weapons , for want of good Reasons , You may make what you please Felonies or Treasons . So when a Cuckold is Cornuted , Send him to the Hangman to be confuted , Your Tutors can never be so wise , or so good , Because they , at the best , are but Flesh and Blood . They understand by clear Intuitions , You fetch a Compass by blind Propositions . If a Thief in the Way that is called High , For a Purse of Gold makes me Promise or Dy●● Must I perform it , Tell me the Reason why ? You say a Nude Pact's of no more force than a Lye . And yet I am bound my Gold to bring , As if it were the Word of a King ; Will Reason allow of any such thing ? You say , Fallere fallentem non est Fraus , But Honesty forbids such a Cause . For I must not Cheat , tho I be cheated , But I may defeat , rather than be defeated ; I hope my Promised Gold is not Escheated . I presume , if I have any Skill , A forced Will , is no Will , Especially , if you threaten me to kill . When Questions are put for matter of Fact , Should we not mind the Justice of the Act ? Should only Custom and Prescription , Make good or bad against Jurisdiction ? How are wise Men out in this Cause , When Wrongs are done contrary to Laws ? And yet because done , in this Case , The Fact before the Right takes place . Farewel then all that 's good and just , When wicked Customs prevail must . Is it enough , because they are acted ? Then bad need ne're be retracted . Then all past Evils may keep their station , Then there needs be no Reformation . Let Wrongs be still , say they , for hear ye . We must not Quieta movere . To remove Dun Thiefs take no care , For fear of Infecting the Air. Leave the Sick to dye amain , For fear you should put them to pain , Or for fear they should come again . Take no Physick , 'swage no Tumors , For fear of stirring the Humors . For fear of Surfets leave eating or drinking , Use no Close-stool , for fear of stinking . If this be Honest , or good Sense , In Arts I never will Commence . Farewel for ever studying Laws , If we must make so many Flaws . And whatsoever Wrong is done , It shall be made right at the Long run . How can that , that ne're was True , Be made True ? Give every thing its due . A Spade's a Spade , all 's Right or Wrong , Else all we say , or do , is but a Song . There are more Leaden Lesbian Rules , Usual in Courts and Schools . Distinctions without difference , Sentences , Proverbs without Sense . Juvenile Wits they make quick , But mature Judgments downright sick . But the old driveling doating Dunces , Will never leave their old Mumpsimusses . For want of sound Argumentation , Even Laws fail of a good Foundation . Where right Reasoning is wanting , The idle Smatterers fall a Canting : But we are of a clearer mind , Our Intellects far more refin'd . As for our Wills , we 'l have the Day , Tho by never so much foul Play . We plead best Right from first Possession , Time out of mind , 't is our Profession . We had it first , call it not Fury , Qui prior est tempore , potior est Jure . Upon our Bounds you make Invasions , We 'l be reveng'd on all occasions . Dolus malus , mala Fides , So the Devil gets up and Rides ; And so we pull down all their Prides . Our Female Tempers have no more Malice , Than will fill Flagon or Chalice . And for profound Understanding , In Obeying or Commanding . For all exactest Regulation , None compare with our Corporation . Your Laws are always turning and winding , Our Charms are Everlastingly binding . No Devils endure more Blows , No Carrions can kill Crows . Alas ! Men are but a Blast , All our Generations last . Where are the old Sects of Plato , Zeno , Aristotle , Gato ? They quickly marched o're the Stall , But we out-live the Devil and all . We never flatter , give us but scope , Nothing stops us , but a Rope . O this ugly Hemp withstands our Spell , Sends us , before our time , to Hell . We conjure all things , but that Grass , The basest Plant that ever was . So true it is , Contra vim Mortis , Non est Medicamen in Hortis . This ugly Hemp's a worser Weed , Than Colchis , or Thessalick Breed . So may a Mouse destroy a Boar , A Cock make a Lion roar . A Sword Fish conquer a Whale , A well stretcht Haltar will never fail . We bear swimming , scratching , banging , Endure every thing , but hanging . The Judge pronounceth Right , they say , Tho it be Wrong ; How or which way ? A Blot's no Blot till it be hit , 'T is neither Honesty nor Wit. A Fiction's taken for Truth , they say , A Ship in Cheapside's cast away . Possession is twelve Points of Law , 'T is like the prating of a Jack-Daw ; And thus Fools are kept in Aw . A Promise naked , without a Consideration , Is Conscience of the newest fashion . A Servant's dead and hath no Will , Such a Lawyer hath no Skill . They are Fools that Reason thus , Communis Error facit Jus. He that confesseth must be hang'd , He that denies shall be but bang'd . Inheritances must not ascend , I pray , Then hang poor Parents out of the way . To what Absurdities will you hale us ? Semel malus semper praesumitur esse malus . There is a saying that we have , Once a Knave , and ever a Knave . It is a Saying of the Devil , Once Evil , and ever Evil. It is a Saying of Robin-Hood , Once good , and ever good . When will Follies have an End , If that which is bad can never mend ? 'T is a Saying of as good Delivery , Qui nescit dissimulare , nescit vivere . Vox Populi , vox Dei ; How so ? Then they may let all Truth go . If Husband live within four Seas , The Wife may play Whore as she please . 'T is a Saying but to half , He that keeps the Cow must keep the Calf . He needs no Cow , says pretty Jenny , That can have a penny worth of Milk for a Penny . Fallere Fallentem , non est Fraus , Fallere Clientem , non est Laus . At this Rate the World 's undone , The Mother must not breed the Son . If a Rogue Swears to a Lye , The honestest Man in the World must dye . Twelve Godfathers , good Men and True , Give or take from every Man his due . Infallible is a Parliament , And which is more , Omnipotent . Lords and Lands must pay no Debts , Alas ! The justest Law that ever was . The Timber-Trees may walk there stanches , From Title , their Bodies excuse their Branches : Wills Nuncupate , at second hand , By no means can convey Land : A Souldier's Will may , tho wrote in Sand , For a Priviledg'd Will shall stand . A Murderer may fly to an Altar , But a Thief must not miss a Haltar . Stop Thief , he is undone , Let the cruel Murderer run . Steal a Horse , it is a Rape , Steal a Man you shall escape . I never heard a Reason , why A man that cannot Read should dye . I may not cheat a Private man , But rob the Common wealth all I can . My Shipwrackt Goods , I claim no more , Because the Sea brought them ashore . If in the Ship be Dog or Cat , I may challenge them for that . What if by chance there should be Mouse or Rat , I must lose them for all that . If Servant steals , he may be bang'd , If Stranger robs , he must be hang'd . You may not presume to Arrest A Debtor , in his own Nest . It is his Castle , let him lye , Tho Creditor for want must pine and dye : Or least the Debt you should retrench , He 'l put himself into the Kings-Bench , Drink Sack there ; or to the Indies Sail ; Such Payments will never fail . When Justice is for none a Factor , Why is Reus favour'd more than Actor ? That Janus's Rule was made to vex , Salus Populi suprema Lex . Would these Sages strike us blind , How can a forced Promise bind ? Is there no Reason left behind . For all men to use in their kind ? Prophets and Lawyers of State , Obtrude any thing at any Rate ; So all things come to pass by Fate . Except Aristotle's Brain Universal Learning should contain ; I am sure we are all couzened in the main , What 's Ipse dixit to me , Take it for a He or She ▪ If with Reason it can't agree ? Aristotle for a time 's my Friend , But the Truth to the World's End . Those Scholars are in their Minority , That prove all by Authority . That do all their work by Samples , Leave Laws , live only by Examples . Then Trunk Britches , Vardingals , Ruffs , Pickadillo's come up , with double Cuffs . Why should a dead Corps be Arrested ? Keep him till the Cause be Attested : Let him be sure put in good Bail , Or send him forthwith to the Gaol : And when he is gone to the Pot , Let him pay the Debt , or let him Rot. 'T will put Creditors to the Frets , To have such Payments of Debts . A Farmer as freely pay Tithes , As he would pluck out his Eyes . Hercules kept Heathens in Aw , Made them pay Tithes by Club-Law . Against Tithes there 's no Prescription , But they may be cut off by Composition . 'T is a rare Effatum of Ferdinandi , 'T is a good Modus Decimandi . In Books strong Reasons you may see , Tithes are new born , a Lay-Fee . Or if you 'l have it more at large , You may count them a Rent-Charge . The Templars or Cistercian Rout , Ravisht all Tithing at one Bout . I look upon Momus , that sate in a Corner , As a pitiful Mopus Informer , A Law Jyppo , a Hang by Retainer , Ever complaining , but never a Gainer . It is the Common Law Conditions , To haunt Courts Christian with Prohibitions . Are you a Smock Sinner , or so , Commute soundly , and you shall be let go . Fee Ogg the great Comissary before and behind , Then Sin on , you know my mind : To Females , all Males must be kind , But Poor Whores no favour find . Norfolk Swains , that drive the Cows , Whistle Littleton at their Plows . Essoins , Withernams , Vouches , Recapia's , are stuffed in Leathern-Slowches . The Salick Law is a rare Tool , Excludes Females from all Rule . Let no-Woman Fee Inherit , Because in Wars they cannot Merit . As freely Father goes to the Bow , As the Son handles the Plow . From the Females , or Heirs Male , A Fine past , cuts off the Entail . For a Recovery you may Rail , No stopping a Ship under Sail. Pantomimi Histriones , Wizards Egregii Nebulones . Vox Populi , vox Dei , 't is confest , Is as True as all the rest . A Populo ad Regem . Modus & Conventio vincunt Legem . It drives Shopkeepers into Nets , When Priviledg'd men must pay no Debts . Anaxarchus had the heart of a Porter , That could endure to be bray'd in a Mortar . Customs of contrary Feature , Should they be call'd a Second Nature ? To say this Point is Law , is in dark to grope , Unless it agree with the whole Scope . From Truth how can Falshood come ? Or Lyes harbour in Truths Room ? If all are inevitable Fate , All Good or Bad 's quite out of Date . Whether it be fair or just , Men , more than Brutes , continual Lust ? How does Reason rule the Rost . When Lasciviousness rides Post ? They couple only for a Brood , Men for every wanton Mood . They take their times for Generation , Men at all times without Moderation . What Witches were at the taking of Troy ? Fair Helena stole by the Roaring Boy . Paris was that unlucky Toy , Both fit to be call'd , the Witches Joy . Two contrary Parties , Hallow Boys , Hallow , Jupiter in Troiam pro Trojâ stabat Apollo . 'T is good , well sung in Catches or Canto's , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Which with a Pipe of Smoke to blow to , Is Dimidium plus Toto . 'T is time to bid your Companions be gone , The Farthest about 's the nearest way home . The Whole is greater than the Part , That 's safe ; But the Contrary , Thou lyest Ralph . Every Effect hath a Cause . There should be Reason in all Laws . Clerks , if you rightly apprehend 'um , Hold Dignities in pure Commendam . 'Cause men of Parts cannot be found , ( While they are living ) above ground . No harm for Wrong done shall come near ye , Idem est non esse & non apparere . A Minor acts not without a Tutor , An old Incumbent hath a Coadjutor . And a Mistress hath a Suitor . Status Naturae , status Belli , Is worse than Cock-broth in Gelly . Jus unicuique ad omnia , O rare , Look out sharp , the World 's a great Fare . Nothing 's good , but wha't 's Commanded , Why should any man be hang'd or branded ? Nothing 's bad , but what s Forbidden , Let Thieves and Rogues do as they 're bidden . It should seem by all these Flaws , Definitions are dangerous in Laws . Go and be bound , and pay the Debt , You 're just taken in a Net ; I am all in a Sweat . Come hang Laws , they that have Brains , To know or do them will take no pains ; For to be sure , they 'l get no gains . And they have many unlucky Strains , For they keep us all in Chains . 'T is better to be free , and then We may be said to live like Men. Reason of State , Reason of Law , Right or Wrong keeps all in Aw . Trust no Man , if you would live brave , Keep a good Word for a Knave . Oblige all the World , please every Man , By hook or by crook , Catch that catch can . Study Men more than Books , That will make you gentile Rooks. Get a Picklock for the Law , To open every Crevise and Flaw . Get Pincers and a lusty Screw , To wrest from every Man his due . Where Rocks are , get Axes and Hammers , Spades , Pickaxes and Rammers . Let all your Implements be ready , And be sure to hold your hand steady . Look big , stand all in your Robes , Like a Conqueror of both Globes . From you every Line or Word , Cuts more than a Two-handed-Sword . Truth must not be spoke , you say at all times , The way to huddle up the basest Crimes . To be an Informer , is thought a Disgrace , Then how shall Capital Laws take place ? Never of any Tale-bearer tell , Tho you love me never so well . But if I get a Friend in a Corner , He will tell me the false Informer . He that is an Inventor of Lyes , By him many an Innocent dyes , Deserves to be made a Sacrifice . For shall not the good Law punish him sore , And not suffer him to live , to kill any more ? Is it not good for the Common-weal , To reward him that shall Felons reveal ? Is he my Friend that will see me misus'd , Or behind my back , not tell me by whom I 'am abus'd ? Consider this Case better , and try , And do as you would be done by . 'T is come to a fine pass , you 'l say , when Witches with Maces , Authoritatively must Resolve Conscience-Cases . For this call us no more Brazen Faces , Nor load us with foul Disgraces ; We understand some Common Places . Marcus his Scholars loosely taught , That tho by all kind of Vice debaucht : Yet no more tainted by these ugly Steams , Than are by Dunghils the Suns Beams . Sesostris was first Institutor of Fees , To Souldiers he gave the best Aegyptian Lees. He fed them and taught them all in Warring , And by this Tye restrain'd them from Jarring . They must keep strict to Military Art , From which Mechanicks might never depart . And to preserve Families from falling , The Son must be of his Father's Calling . And so a Captain , as well as a Cook , His Father's Profession ne're forsook , If he dye , for his Inheritance he might go look . 'T were good , if Scholars were so kept to their Book , But our Laws would never this Custom Brook . To Souldiers and Priests so much good Land , Preserv'd them close to the Kings Command , Better than the old Praetorian Band. He also freed them from Taxes and Gabels , Whose Names were listed in Warlike Tables . So much Bread and Flesh he daily did award , To all the Yeomen of his Guard . They served their Master , the rather , Because he was their Foster Father . Nomus Thebaeus assign'd to Regiments , Panopolitus , or Chemnitus all in their Tents . Turk to this day prosecutes the same Intents , For Love and Gratitude strong Arguments . So Janizaries and Timariots , Are hindred from Rebellious Plots . The Roman Agrarian Law , Kept Souldier and People all in Aw . The Linotrophi , not for Name , With the Feudatories were much the same . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 divided into Nomi Pannels , Betwixt Nilus and Ostia Channels . A wise Lady was once in hope , To get License from the Pope . For Women , as well as Men , to hear Confessions , Resolve Cases and pardon Transgressions , His Holiness his Answer did delay , And bid her wait till such a day : And gave her a Box , to bring with her own hand , But not to open it by strict Command . The good Lady and her Sisters all glad , But to open the Box were stark mad . Much ado , they venture to open 't at last , And out flew a rare Fly , all so fast . The Lady returns to deliver her Charge , But no Fly , for which she was chid at large : How could she be trusted with Souls Secrecy , That could not be faithful in keeping a Fly ? And so this vain Motion did dye . Manzers and Slaves had no Prohibition , From any Incestuous Coition ; Because they were of a vile Condition , They were never taken upon Suspicion . No Matrimony 'mongst them , no Possession , Not free of any Profession . Tho ne're so nobly born or bred , To all Rights they must be dead . Did this Curse come from Cham , Or from the Devil and his Dam ? Or is it not a mere Sham ? Most contrary to Nature's stand , To be made Brutes , to be unman'd . 'T is well Man and Wife are sure to hold , That were by Rome's Law bought and Sold. 'T is a Rul'd Case in Bardish Rhimes , Truth must not be spoke at all times . The like for Punishment of all Crimes , Such Laws would run well with Chimes . 'T will rise high , when 't is upon the Fretts , There shall be no time for paying of Debts . Patriarchs were no Judges , but Doctors , In those days when no Courts with Attorneys or Proctors . Punishments were by War , not Law , The Sword , no Word , kept all in Aw . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Aes Alienum quando Remittitur , Acceptilatio in Lege dicitur . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , shakes off the Onus , Vsuram non facit vir bonus . ‘ We Withces , no body will own us , ‘ If we fall , no body will bemean us . Stepsiades brought a Thessalian Hag , To shut up the Moon in a Box or a Bag. To excuse Debtors from paying their Fine , Because no Proof that the Moon does shine , This was never no Practise of Mine . Usurers reckoned , every Night and Noon , To the coming of the New Moon . A Burning-Glass to scorch a Letter , In Court , to disprove a Deed the better . Culpam in Jovem rejicias , Say 't was the Gods , not you that were Vicious , Try , if for that they will be Propitious . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , where 's all your Law , If in an Indictment they find such Flaw . 'T was 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , And her own Self , Madam 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Choak'um with this Bolus at last , Try , if they can recover in haste . If thou beest a Thief or Unchaste , The Gods did as much , Let them be Cast . Nay , they decreed me to do so , and more , I cannot be guilty therefore ; It must be put upon the Score . For I was forc't behind and before , Let no Serjeant come near my door . Gods hid themselves in Caves and Groves , To prosecute Murders and vilest Loves . Why then , if Mortals commit such Rapes , May they not plead , as just Escapes . Curse us Witches be sure , Bite our Noses , Et Conspergitis nos Rosis . Son prov'd it just , to beat his Father , if wild , Because he beat him , when he was a Child . Socrates taught him to come off , With Bis Pueri Senes , a Scoff . He made 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Clause , For an Inferiour and Superiour Cause . Lawyer like , 't was very sad , A bad Cause good , or a good Cause bad . Apollo his Malice could not smother , Urging Orestes to kill his Mother . For which the poor Soul complains , He was clearly left in the Lurch for his pains . But the Conscious Numen made him amends , Made him and Menelaus Friends . Repair'd his Throne for his own Ends. Never learn Justice from Jove above , Nor Chastity from the God of Love . Socrates but one Supreme Power own'd , For which like a Fool he had like t' have been Ston'd . But by favour that he might swallow no more , They wo'd him to drink Hellebore . This frighted Aristotle and Plato , Seneca , Cicero , and Cato . The Country Gods must not be deny'd , When once the Senate had them Cry'd . The Poets were all Rogues , in the Letter , They spake W●rs , but understood better ; Apollo was a good Bone-Setter . ‘ Now I have my Cu , and I must come in , ‘ For me and mine , to prove there can be no Sin . ‘ Tho in Wickedness you be up to the Chin , ‘ Never complain , go through thick and thin . ‘ Over Shoes and over Boots , ‘ Pluck up Liberty by the Roots . ‘ In Witches , such as we be , ‘ Cause we are forc't by a Decree . ‘ I am of Opinion , as such , ‘ We can ne're play Rogues or Whores too much . ‘ I am afraid of a Rod , ‘ If I take in Vain the Name of God . ‘ The Chain of Fates is so wonderful strong , ‘ Against our Wills drives us all along . ‘ We try sometimes , but all 's but a dream , ‘ There 's no striving against the Stream . ‘ There 's a violent Motion , above our own , ‘ Whereby our free Actions are all overthrown . ‘ T is in vain to use a Lanthorn and Candle , ‘ When we take up Things with a wrong Handle . ‘ We talk of Free-will at a monstrous high Rate , ‘ But all 's over-rul'd by Fortune or Fate ; ‘ Nothing can Post or Antidate . ‘ Things must be , it seems , as they must be , ‘ Do your best or your worst , all 's Destiny . ‘ Puppets above dance nimbly and skip , ‘ But the Hand below takes 'um upon the Hip ; ‘ If the Ass be lazy come up with a Whip . ‘ It must come to pass all you do or say , ‘ But the clean contrary way . ‘ All this is Deceptio Visûs , ‘ The Wires below makes all the Devices . ‘ Alas , Alas ! we 're all in a Dream , ‘ When we think 't is Whey , 't is Curds and Cream . ‘ We are mistaken in every Theme , ‘ There is a Mote in the clearest Sun Beam . ‘ The Wind drives the Ship , and the Water the Mill , ‘ Paint what you can't will be a Rose still . ‘ If Blood be spilt , tho you do not kill , ‘ 'T will be Manslaughter do what you will . ‘ For none of us have Wit at will , ‘ Pour in the Wines , the Pot must fill . ‘ Wrong must be done , and the Wronger shall gain , ‘ Ne're put the Conscience to too much pain . ‘ The man is dead , but he was not slain , ‘ Every way turn to and again . ‘ An Honest man must endure the smart and the loss , ‘ No body wrong'd him , 't was his Cross . ‘ Never cry nor roar , Poor Baby , ‘ Sorte tuâ Contentus Abi. ‘ There 's a Lottery , wipe your Eyes , ‘ Ten thousand Blanks for one Prize . ‘ Venter you may , live or dye , ‘ 'T is but the turning of a Dye . ‘ Whatever haps , if you be wise , ‘ Forbear Murmurs , Tears or Cries . ‘ For all you do or suffer , there are Spyes , ‘ Few tell Truths , and most speak Lyes ; ‘ I can't endure to think of Sacrifice . ‘ 'T is an idle , needless thing , ‘ To tye an Ox to an Altars Ring . ‘ The harmless Beast must rost and fry , ‘ Because I deserve to dye . ‘ And for telling of a Lye , ‘ I 'le be judg'd by the Standers by . ‘ I had spoke Truth , I 'le try , by my Troth , ‘ 'T is either good , or bad , or both . ‘ 'T was the Lot that was own'd then , in good Sooth. ‘ If it be bad , and better haps , ‘ It is your good luck , Boys throw up your Caps ; ‘ But have a care of After-claps . ‘ Hallow Boys , one and all , ‘ We shall either Rise or Fall . ‘ Never bemoan Man , never be sad , ‘ We shall have a living , a good or a bad . ‘ Whatever it be , once it will fall , ‘ Nothing venture nothing have , the Devil take all . ‘ Why then should any just Laws be us'd , ‘ When Good or bad can't be chose , or refus'd , ‘ And still no body can be abus'd . ‘ I 'le sin out my Sin , if it must be so , ‘ No Body knows which way 't will go . ‘ But 't is a hard Fate , to be forc't to do Evil , ‘ And for that , to be forc't to go to the Devil . ‘ In vain then to Cry or Snivel , ‘ To blow Meat , the Butcher must have a Scyvel . ‘ I 'le take no more care then , I 'le do what I please , ‘ I shall have Trouble , or I shall have ease . ‘ But still do or suffer , there 's no Body minds me , ‘ Yet still some Body stands behind me . ‘ I move like a Puppet to and fro , ‘ And know not whether I move or no. ‘ The Satyr blows hot and cold , ‘ 'T is all alike to young and old . ‘ When Waters are crost with a contrary Wind , ‘ The Ship is tost before and behind , ‘ It should then either stop or stay , ‘ Or be mov'd to a contrary way . ‘ There 's Will , or no will , Reason or none , ‘ Then leave me to my self alone , ‘ And I 'le leave 'um now to pick this Bone . ‘ If I thought I were not a Witch or a Whore , ‘ I should never endure my Self any more . They come off with a Certiorari , Res noluit male Administrari . 'T is no Thanks to the Administrators , When they themselves are the Judge Arbitrators . 'T is long of their Causes in these Cases , That puts things thus all out of their Places . 'T is much to Wise mens Disgrace , That dare Reason so much deface . In vain they hope to be Excus'd , When Reason is by Reason abus'd , And against all Reason refus'd . They that have given the deadly Draught , Tho it kill not , 't is naught , 't is naught . These men to true Reason will ne're be brought , The Reason is , they are better fed than taught . ‘ I know better than so , the unlucky Bird sings , ‘ 'T is true , nor do I believe such Gins , ‘ That screw my Soul to worser things . ‘ In plain terms , 't is to deny ‘ Justice , and all Deity . ‘ And therefore such false Rules I defie , ‘ The fault is my own , I deserve to dye . ‘ I am a Witch , I tell you the Reason why , ‘ Because I did wilfully Vertue deny . ‘ 'T is neither better nor worse , ‘ I have justly invok'd my Curse . ‘ 'T is in vain to use any more Discourse , ‘ Set the Saddle on the right Horse . ‘ Alas , some Sciolists do but prate , ‘ 'T is just as the Stars would ha 't . ‘ We are all bewitcht , when plain Bitchery , ‘ Is called Conjuring , or Witchery . ‘ The Dog ( they say ) excuses the smell , ‘ The Lady is perfum'd very Well : ‘ But the Toad Cur stinks like Hell . ‘ For Right Reason ring out the Bell , ‘ There 's many such a Develish Spell . Thieves , Murderers , Witches , Burn'um , Stone'um , De Mortuis nil nisi Bonum . Gavelkind Land , de Haereditate dividendâ , To younger Brothers , Familia Erciscenda . ‘ Take your Conge , make your Leg , ‘ To them that have brought you to Beg. ‘ If you be of a good Constitution , ‘ Rob all you can , and make no Restitution , ‘ Take all good Turns , and make no Retribution . ‘ Do all Harm , ther 's no Prohibition , ‘ All fare alike , there 's no Praeterition . ‘ Will you call an Eunuch chaste , ‘ Or him Patient , that 's ty'd in Fetters fast ? ‘ Had Bajazet no Tyrant Rage , ‘ 'Cause shut up in an Iron Cage ? ‘ A Lion may be a Lamb at these rates , ‘ Because he is shut up in Grates , ‘ So is good or bad by force of Fates . Where sits the Legislative Power , Ruling in his Majestick Tower ? In the Noble or Vulgar Race , In the Prince or Populace ? Kings do Jus facere & Jus dare , Judges Jus dicere , I 'le Swear ye . Did the high Power of Life and Death , From the lowest Root take breath ? What Supremacy is in the Feet ? When , or where could all the World meet ? Tribunes , Ephori represent , Who knows the Multitudes Intent ? 'T is a few Pragmatical Squires , That Rule Publick Desires , Kindle , not quench Everlasting Fire . These Lead the Vulgars by the Nose , And do all Business under the Rose . Who then shall Rebellions compose ? Factions or Seditions disclose ? A Coblar cries , Mio non Consento , Il Popôlo non Contento . The Mobile swells all in Waves , And are driven by Fools and Knaves ; 'Til they make themselves Slaves , And go all Beggars to their Graves . But when good Princes have their Will , By Gods Laws , 't is Freedom still . So the Rabble is befool'd , To Rule , and be over-rul'd . But when Supremacy is lodg'd In One or Few , the Rout is dodg'd . They 'l cheat themselves , and be cheated , 'Til all there Madness be defeated . From themseves they can't Appeal , Where is then their Common-weal ? Who does Liberty from them steal ? When they Rage , Murmur and Grudge , Who shall Moderate or Judge ? When they Head all in a Riot , What Power shall the Tumult quiet ? If all croud to steer at the Helm , The Vessel needs must overwhelm . Who is able to Rule alone , When all shall rush upon the Throne ? When all on Power make Intrusion , It must needs produce Confusion . All are Slaves , when all Command , Who can Obedience understand ? Status Belli & Status Naturae , Each to his Fellow is a Fury ; None can be tryed by a Jury . Il Popôlo is a Wide Ring , Dance in a Circle's an endless thing . Vnicuique Jus ad omnia , Quare , Get what you can I 'le ne're spare ye . And if I prove the Better Man , I 'le get all agen from you , if I can . If you invade your Neighbours Lands . He 'l fight you upon Calice Sands : And then where are your Demands ? Your Right on a ticklish Bottom stands . Anacreon refus'd five Talents of Gold , By Polycrates given him , and told , That for Cares he would not be sold . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Deserv'd the Title 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Another greater Fool than He , Threw all his Wealth into the Sea . But few such Fops this day we see , Yet Fools flock to good Company . They say , De Mortuis nil nisi Bonum , Thieves and Murderers never stone 'um . Do all mischief live or dead , Expect not to be punished , Nor so much as mentioned . Why then should Vertue be rewarded , If Vice must not be regarded ? These are simple , silly Themes , The Off-spring of idle Dreams . Burn all Histories to Ashes , Call Plutarch , Tacitus and Livy , Flashes . For daring to record the Doom Of Tyrants , in Greece or Rome . Call Domitians , and Nero's , After their deaths brave Cavalero's . He that flatters , living and dead , Now is the Man that is best bred . Of Salick Law Women complain , 'Cause it excludes Femal●s from Reign . To be reveng'd by Fascinations , They rule the Rulers of all Nations . Id tantùm fit , quod Jure fit , Is more Honesty , than Wit. By Flattery oblige Mankind , What true Return hope you to find ? If Fathers force their Daughters to fast From Husbands , till Twenty five be past : They may then take their own measure , Marry , and Repent at leisure . But the Father must part with his Treasure , Not at his own , but the Judges Pleasure . Pone Legem , fill the Paw , This is Justice , this is Law : This is Cheats Clapper-claw , So they keep the World in Aw . Your Nose will be out of Socket , If wise , keep Mony in your Pocket . The Law is costly , no Trial , If you make the least Denial , You must pray , and pay and stay , And at last make shift to run away . He that refuses Silver or Gold , Him for a Natural we hold . He is wise , and ever was , That takes the Mony , and le ts go the Ass . The poor Jade is rid amain , Pity him , put him out of his pain : When loaded , bid him come again , Just a Pettifoggers strain . In short , I 'le describe the Condition , Of the Bloody Spanish Inquisition . The Prison resembles exactly well , All the Cruelties of Hell . After Seven years Incarceration , In Chains , and goods Confiscation . The Judgment passes in dark Rooms , Like Vaults of Death in Charnel Tombs . No Accusers are ever shewn , Nor must Witnesses be known . The Prisoner with Fools Cap and Mitred Crest , Green Taper , Sambenito Vest : Mounts a Theatre , where stands an Altar , Priest with Cross , Hangman with Haltar . The Lords Inquisitors sit on high , The Bishop and Chapter hard by . The Magistrates and Nobles next , The Bloody Preacher takes a Text. To justifie all the Proceedings , Of Whips and Racks , and fatal Bleedings . ‘ After all this , why are Women Witches ‘ Cry'd out on more than Dogs or Bitches . ‘ All the World of us do ring . ‘ Only this Hanging 's such a thing . ‘ It makes us shrug for not Confessing , ‘ It comes sometimes as far as Pressing . ‘ Or for want of Right turning , ‘ Oftentimes it comes to burning . ‘ Are there no other Witches then ? What are Wizards , but Witches Men ? ‘ Cunning. Wisemen , Magicians , ‘ And by Laws , Mathematicians . ‘ Augurs , Sorcerers of old ▪ ‘ Pontiffs , Flamens , Priests I 'm told . ‘ We are Mistresses of Reason . ‘ And Wit , for Felony and Treason . ‘ We only frisk it fine and neat , ‘ Ready for every unlucky Feat . ‘ We are the Active Party , Men are Lubbars , ‘ Dozing at home , like lazy Scrubbars . ‘ A Female Eagle is the Bird most brave , ‘ The Male's a drunken sottish Slave , ‘ And so all Birds of Prey may be , ‘ For any thing that I can see . ‘ So for Witchcraft the World doth find , ‘ The Women are the Noblest kind . ‘ I look you should send me to make Pudding Pyes , ‘ For telling so many Lyes . ‘ Choose for your Love , and buy for your Mony , ‘ There is good Ale at the Sign of the Cony . ‘ Sturbridge Fair , Canterbury Tales , ‘ Sung all over England , Scotland , and Wales . ‘ At last we are crowded all into Gaols , ‘ And hung up by the Crags upon Pales .

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY . The Fourth Part.

By R. D.

LONDON , Printed in the Year , 1683.

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY .

The Prologue . WElcome so far on your Journey , my Maids , Y' have met in your Way with gallant Blades ; Could you busie your selves in better Trades ? Because to me you did so kindly Resort , I 've took care to shew you the bravest Sport . If you 'l promise me , not to be slow , I have but two more Stages to go . I will provide you Fresh Horses , When this Job's done , Fair Ladies take your Courses .

THE WITCHES . CANTO I. I Fear you 'l count me Knave and Fool , For telling Tales thus out of School . But perhaps you may like it well , If I tell stories out of Hell . I say , there they are all Drunk and Mad , Jovial , or Melancholy sad . 'T is nothing what here you see and know , To that which is acted here below . Something like , but not the same , Either for Nature or Name . The Perfection of all that 's Base , Is demonstration of Hell's Grace . There 's roaring , Revelling and Damming , Blaspheming , Cursing and Ramming . 'T is beyond Limming and Painting . To describe Infernal Ranting . Hatching and contriving Plots , Drawing Cuts and casting Lots , Breaking Pates , Glasses and Pots . Answering Spells and Conjurations , Towards the Ruine of all Nations . Promoting all degrees of Strife , Taking away every Honest Life , Wars , Plagues , Famines , Invasions , Fires , Waters , are their Recreations . By Evil Spirits secret lurking , Politick Pates are set a●working . Each beggarly , malicious Varlet , Strives to pull down men in Scarlet . No Ill acted Above , I trow , But is projected close below . For you must know , each damned Spirit ▪ Doth a greater Wit Inherit , Than Mortal Wights yet ever had , Nor can they be fully so bad . They are the Springs and Engineers , To screw up Jealousies and Fears . 'Till they come up to th' highest pitch , Far above all that we can call Witch . Creating Lyes and false Pretences , Whence all Destruction commences . In Common-wealths and mighty States , Amongst Princes and Potentates . Plenipotentiaries , Masters , Orators thence hatch all Disasters . Lawyers Tongues are Tipt , to prate Right or Wrong , at any rate . Packets ●rom Witches daily ●ly , With wonderful Celerity ; To Pluto's Court Posts all about , Come crowding through the Damned Rout. The News in ev'ry corner Rang , At which the meager Spirits sprang For Joy , to hear the Mischief done In all Places under the Sun . At which the nimble Caitiffs prance , And all the tatterd Mallions dance . Not a base Goblin but will skip , No slavish Robin but will trip , Frisk it brave , curveat , and cut It handsomly with his stump Foot . Each grizly Ghost , that er'st lookt grim , Appears in Print , spruce , tight and trim . Each ugly Empuse , with his Mate , Gossips it up and down in state ▪ The dullest melancholy Wight , Envy its self , comes now in sight : And like a Gallant too will strut , A Thin-chopt Wretch with shrunk-up-Gut . Each horrid Fury now could plate Her snaky Tresses 'bout her Pate , And frizle too ; each Elf was quaint , And for a shift could skill to paint . They know how to make bare their Breasts , Shoulders and Back , Arms and Wrests . They understand the Wanton-glare , And with a rowling Eye-ball stare . They had the right Leering awry , The lustful glancing of the Eye ▪ They had the demure Simpring grace , The Forehead high , and Brazen Face , The scornful Flirt , the Jetting Gate , And every idle stinking State . They had their famous Indian Plumes , Top and Top gallant , rare Perfumes . Arabick Odors of the best , Snatcht from the dying Phoenix Nest . They had the Perewick , the C●ll , The monstrous Tires , the Devil and All. Their black Bags , Buck●●m , bumbast Shapes , Their Doublets and short Jumps , like Apes . Chippins , Galloches , Samars , Manto's , And all the Modes in the Curranto's . Wanton Aerial Lawns that hover , And do immodest Parts discover . They had their Mufflers , Fans and Vails , Their Masks and Busks , and Vardingals . Their Gorgets , Points , knots and Muffs , Pickad●llo Bands , and Cart-wheel Ruffs . ‘ Pardon , kind Reader , if at all ‘ I some forget , or some miscall ▪ ‘ My Ladies Waiting-Maid , perhap , ‘ Me in these Fopperies might trap . ‘ Or her right Reverend Usher carp , ‘ And swear how oft amiss I harp . ‘ In all these Implements , in good Truth , ‘ You do my Lady wrong forsooth . ‘ But let such Fancies know , I hit ‘ In general at what 's fit . They have their walking Mates on ground , On Horse and Coach , the Foysting Hound . The wanton witty Ape that squats , Chatters and pisses in their Laps . Their curious hands support the gay , Canary Bird , or Popinjay . They have the Monky , the Musk Cat , To make them laugh , to make them chat . Not a Device , but they had caught , And , as I think , our Gallants taught . They had the French , the Italian , Spanish , Dutch and Polonian Postures to a hair , Courtesie That does belong to Cap or Knee . They had the slovenly Dutch slop . The Pastbord Pad , or English Crop . The curtail'd Cloak , and the French Felt , The Munmoth Cap , the Zodiaque Belt . The Bilbo Blade , and Jyngling Spur , The Monstrous Boot , and Cap of Fur. The Antique Trunk , Scant Hose , wide Ruff , The Wounded Doublet , and the Buff. The Persian Cassock , the Flat , Steeple●crownd , narrow , broad-brim'd Hat . Bands and Crevats ; If I should range , I must ransack the Exchange : But I am drawn dry , I must give o're , I am quite spent , I can no more . Who ever was Companion made To th' Elfs of Hells Infernal shade ? Who through Mare Mortuum , Hath sail'd to fair Elysium ? Who hath as Pilgrim past along To Styx , Cocytus , Acheron ? To Ghosts , to Furies , who hath been , A fearful fellow-Citizen ? He may perhaps call to mind , The Devils of every kind : And how the monstrous horrid Lust , Of Incubus and Succubus . Damn'd Copulation , produce , Or Goblin , Fairy , or Empuse . Which appear in as many Fashions , As are used in all Nations .

CANTO II. Hell revels it , this day , Respite Is granted to each ragged Wight . Ixion's Wheel stands still a while , Tantalus Grapes cease to beguile His greedy Jaws , Sysiphus play'd , When once his weighty Rowl was laid . Next day th' old Man is at a loss , And swears , his Stone had gathered Moss . He for his part was laid secure , Next Morn the old Trout was ta'ne dead sure . Napping , rowz'd with a wholsom Jerk , By some stern Imp , and set to work . Tantalus had so drank his fill O're Night , that thought he might do so still . Ixion did so madly Reel , That for himself , mistook his Wheel . Prometheus's Heart was ope , poor Man , He had soak't many a cordial Kan . That drove the Eagle from his Heart , ‘ Do she her worst , now he 'l not start . ‘ He Vows , more men he will Inspire , ‘ And quicken Clay with new stol'n Fire . ‘ Shall Jove , proud Jove , thinks he , confine ‘ Solely to himself , that Power Divine ? ‘ Tush , tho he be this time in Hell , ‘ He knows his own Power so well , ‘ That none of him more Tales should tell . ‘ He will for ever all Tricks quell , ‘ He 'l make his Art Nature excel . ‘ He has such Whimsies now in Pickle , ‘ Shall make Mercuries Fingers tickle . ‘ To do more Feats , he has the Gift , ‘ If need be , to give Jupiter a Lift. ‘ He hath now more sublime Notions , ‘ To operate far swifter Motions . ‘ His Head is full of Crotchets now , ‘ To Jade a Race-Horse by a Cow , ‘ He swears he 'l tell you , when and how ‘ ( Pledge him but this full Bowl ) the Spheres ‘ Shall play y' a Lesson , that your Ears ‘ Shall Judge which Orb the Treble sounds , ‘ And which the Mean , and Bass rebounds . ‘ These warbling Globes , he at his pleasure , ‘ Can tune distinctly in exact measure . ‘ Do but sit down a while , and list , ‘ Whip one more Cup sheer off , then whist , ‘ Hear you nought yet ? No , off with t'other . ‘ Nor yet ? quick , quick off with another . ‘ Begin a fresh Health , make haste , ‘ Bravely come off , you 'l hear 't at last . ‘ And when y' have heard it , you 'l turn round , ‘ And dance to that melodious Sound . ‘ Now cut it — Rare , unheard of strains ! ‘ Thanks good Prometheus for thy Pains . It is the merriest Rogue in Hell , This day he likes his Humor well . And 't is the wittiest Knave , who dare , For choice Inventions with him compare ? All Bunglers , Hermes Self stand clear , He scorns there should a man come near . He 's for contriving , he 's so neat , So spruce , so curious in each Feat . A most quaint Artist , in this mood , Pity we have no more o' th' Brood . ‘ Archytas , a dull Engineer , ‘ His Dove was faulty , it flew not clear : ‘ It flag'd , he 'l tell you , the Report ‘ He knew right well ; in such strange sort ‘ The Spidar a small Chariot drew , ‘ And the like golden Fly , which flew ‘ From off her Masters Fist , the length ‘ Of a large Hall , and had the strength ‘ To turn , and backwards fly , nay light ‘ Just there , from whence she took her flight , ‘ And bad the Company , Good Night . ‘ Poor Petty-foggers , what rich Prize ‘ Deserve you , that thus trade in Flyes ? ‘ Are you not bold , that dare presume , ‘ The name of Artists to assume ? ‘ For Spider-Molds ? What credit then ‘ Do we deserve , that can frame Men ? ‘ Proud Syracuse too much admir'd ‘ Her Archymedes , 'cause h 'had fir'd ‘ A few weak Ships ; a Toy , a Toy , ‘ With Wild-fire ; ev'ry little Boy ‘ Could do as much , a very Ass , ‘ That made the solid Heav'ns of Glass . ‘ A fit resemblance , a pure Bull , ‘ The Fancy of an empty Skull . ‘ Jove's politick , keeps me in bands ‘ For fear , tying an Artist's hands , ‘ Least — but he shall know in this rare Vein , ‘ I have a Project in this Brain , ‘ ( If lost , will ne're return again . ) ‘ Shall puzle all the Joves to reach , ‘ Much less in practice to out-fetch . The good man 's lost , in setting forth His Infinite conceit●d worth . He 's so high flown , that he out-vies , Higher and lower Dignities . Whole Troops , while he thus boasting sate , Flockt round about , to hear him prate . Tell him of Eagles now , Alas ! A poor Conceit he swears it was . And no less base Revenge , h 'had eas'd This Flea-bite , had it but pleas'd Him , long e're this , and can do 't still ; But scorns , let Jove do 't , if he will . Since he laid't on , this is his Scoff , He 'l make him glad to take it off . A Jolly Vein , if it would hold , This while he sticks not to be bold , While he is neither bought nor sold ; Of this he cares not to be told . I doubt my Gentleman will cry Peccavi , when he 's once drawn dry . He must to the old Trade again , 'T is but a Folly to complain ; 'T is not his Skill can ease his Pain . Honest Prometheus , I deplore Thy wretched Case , when this Light 's o're . Jove's Bird , I fear , will hungry be , Fasting so long for want of thee . Alas , poor Man ! the time is short , 'T is but a day , I 'm sorry for 't . Minerva lov'd thee , so do I , Would I could end thy Misery . As for that most perfidious Brood , That compact , bloody Sister hood , The Belides , methinks I grutch Their Ease , a day for them 's too much . O may their Tubs for ever drill , And they ne're have the pow'r to fill . A Punishment for them too slight , That slew their Husbands the first night . And yet for these that less deserv'd , Was the fair day of Rest reserv'd . Stern Radamanth , whom all did fear , Is most bucsom and debonair . He 's now as blith , that er'st did frown , The meanest Elf in all the Town Is not at all 'fraid of his Gown , But at his Feet dares set him down , And guzzle with him by his side , Who yesterday would skulk and hide ( When he saw him in all his pride , Among the Shades in state to ride . ) His Devils face , poor simple Wight , And glad he could play least in sight . Kind Proserpine , it was thy Grace , And Princely Favour , for a space ; Freely to hurl such a Release , And set all tortur'd Wights at ease . They made mad Rendevouz the while , Roaring and keeping such a coil , Beyond all compass , as if pain Were ne're to be renew'd again . Pluto's vast Court eccho'd aloud , Shaking the Earth , tossing the proud Insulting Waves , so did they roar , As if they never should give o're . So did they feast , drink , smoke and shout And keep a rascal Revel-rout ; That the Superiour World might know , There was a Hell indeed , below . There might you see , on the bare ground , Kneeling , how Pluto's Health went round . Next Proserpine's , how they stood bare , And at the Health's end , rent the Air. That stifling Air , with horrid sound , As it had thunder'd under-ground . How the Infernal Dungeon rang , When the whole frightful Chorus sang . Was not this a fearful Gang ? That Eccho'd such a dreadful Twang ? How lightly the trim Shades did trip , How they did vault , curveat and skip , In all their gambols , neat and spruce , Not one but was complete through use . Having pledg'd all in this low Roof , Some they must think upon Aloof . Some famous ones , to whom they tender Most Love , they Vow now to remember . The Turk , says one , then swears another , The great Mogul he dare not smother . A third starts up in hast , and damns , Shall we forget the renown'd Chams ; The Crim Tartarian ; or the Brood Of Negro's for their likelyhood ? Prety black Rogues , They car●uze oft , To us , and so to them we ought . Friar Bacon , Bungy , Faustus , Merlin , these will ne're exhaust us . During this Counsel , out one yalls , And by my Name Canidia calls . Devils , quoth he , Is there no Fame Amongst us all of that Noble Dame ? Was 't not for her , that we have had This liberty , to be thus mad ? For shame , my Slaves , do her that Grace , To drink her Health in the first place . Canidia , and then they tore Their Snakes , and 'gan afresh to roar . They thought themselves , no doubt , to blame , To forget that Virago's Name . Then they began afresh to squat , There 's ne're a Fury but must ha't . Canidia , strait they 're down , all bare , Hang Turks now , let her have her share . First in our Bowzings , then they hatch , And for the vastest Goblets snatch . O , 't were unkindness not to laugh , 'T were horrid baseness not to quaff . 'T goes about double , to the Great Nurse , Besides to every Health a Curse . The Liquors , Rum , Mum , Sherbet Brandy , Old Hock drank by every Jack-a-dandy . All the Sulphureous Stygian Juyces , Ran in full Conduits and Sluces . Where every Skullion Imp might fill his Pale , And stretch his Gut with Nordown Ale . Sullen Diogenes was got drunk , And the Rogue had closely got his Punk . Every Philosopher was a good Fellow , Poets and Orators Brains were mellow .

CANTO III. ‘ And now I have gone down to Hell , you 'l see , ‘ I shall conjure up Hell to me . ‘ Go , Screetch-Owl , my Apparitor , ‘ At Midnight loudly at an hour , ‘ Rowze all the Sleepers in this Bow'r . ‘ Summon all the Ghosts to appear , ‘ And make their solemn Meeting here . As in a clear transparent Air , The glorious Sun displays his fair Enlivening Beams , that pleasant while , The Earth doth laugh , the Heavens do smile . But ah ! how soon 't is chang'd ? the Scale Turns on a sudden , lo , a Gale Breathing from the South-west , out peeps A sullen Cloud and small , that creeps O're the whole surface of the Sky , And turns all to Obscurity . The golden lustre of the Sun , Is choakt with Vapors now , that run At random o're the Earth , till all Together in a huge Deluge fall . Or as when Aeolus does pen Each sturdy Blast within his Den. A gen'ral Silence , not a Breath , So much to shake a tender Leaf . How quiet Nature is ? how whist ? 'Till those unruly Rebels list . ( Boreas with his surly Mates ) To burst wide ope the Prison-Gates : And all together headlong rush , Striving each others force to crush . Then th' Vniverse , quiet before , Is all in a confus'd uproar . And such a Hurly-burly kept , As if all things were to be swept Out of all order ; such a Bussling They make , such a promiscuous Jussing . Thus from a peaceful Air come Jars Of Winds , from Calms , tempestuous Wars . Then in sprang those Hags , whom had the Sun Beheld , as well it was his hap , To be safe lull'd in Thetis Lap. He would have started back again , And dowst into the Eastern Main . When they came in , their presence made Of Darkness an Egyptian shade . Which to dispel large Flambo's were , With Tapers lighted here and there . O thou bright Sister of the Sun , Who from thy lower Region , Dost the most secret Deeds descry , Of Magick and Necromancy . Thou that art conscious to each Fact , Which Imp or Witch did ever act . 'T is Thee I do Invoke , thine Eye At silent hours can espy , When ugly Fiends assume the shapes Of Men , of Lions , Goats and Apes , Affrighting Mortals , thou canst tell , When by a strong enchanting Spell , They are call'd up , it is no News , To see them keep their Rendevouz . Therefore to thee I make Request , Thou would'st be pleased to Attest Unto the naked Truth , I write , Of which thy Self hast had the sight . And now because the Subject's rare , And fearful , vouchsafe to prepare Thy chaster Ears , kind Reader , First Peruse , and then pronounce it Curst . 'T was just at Midnight , when dead sleep , Had seiz'd on Mortals very deep . When Dogs did bark , when Wolves did howl , When Aspects frown'd , and Heavens did scowl . When the Night-Raven strangely hover'd , As if she had this Rout discover'd . When Batts did cry , when Owls did tear , With hollow shreeks , the trembling Air. When the Ill-boding Satyrs pranc'd Through silent Woods , when Fairies danc'd . When all that Melancholy Fry Were loose , then did the Scene draw nigh . But when the Winds and Seas did roar , When Lightning flasht , when Thunder tore The aged Oaks , when th' Earth did shake , And the whole Vniverse did quake . When Hells wide Jaws did yawn , Ope flew the Scene with all the Spawn . If you would see the Face of Hell , And hear the Pack of Hell-Hounds yell . Lo , here it is ! Heavens be ye abasht ! And thou dull Earth , stand all agast ! Avant , and ke●p aloof , stand clear , Come not I charge you , Sirs , too near ! See now , and see your last ! — A mixed Fry , Of Imps and Haggs in Kennels lye Altogether , such a Mass , Such a Chaos , as never was ! Stare thou bright Cynthia , thou Sun , Drop from thy Sphere , thy Course is done . Keep thee below , and go not on , Nor peep above our Horizon . Thou shalt not see 't , lose not thy Raies Th' hast kept , these Myriads of Days , For here is that will stain them : Here Are monstrous shapes of Wolf and Bear . Of Bats and Toads , of Goats and Swine , Of Cats and Tygers , Dogs and Kine . Viper and Dragon , Rat and Snail , Vultur and Scorpion , Ferret , Quail . Porpuse and Sea-Horse , Tortoise , Snite , Hedghog and Hern , Raven and Kite . Screetch-Owl and Locust , Duck and Swan , Crane , Goss-hawk and Pelican . Crab , Elephant , Mouse , Goose and Gander , Cameleon and Salamander . Pismire and Camel , Mullet , Flare , Dolphin and Shark , Lizard and Hare . Fox and Baboon , Stork and Ospray , Fesant , Beetle , and Popinjay . Spider and Cock , Swallow and Pye , Parrat and Tit , Eagle and Flye . Monky and Squirrel , Otter , Doe , Hyena , Crocadile and Roe . Griffon , Leopard and Cockatrice , Crocadile , Tygre and Lioness . All these , with other mixed Forms Of Antick Fowls , Beasts , Fishes , Worms : Each in their fearful Troops are clustered , In horrid Squadrons rang'd and mustred .

CANTO IV. Tell me without Dissimulation , Who e're shall read this Ex●cration . If a rare Martial Soul possess Thy manly Trunk , that dares to press Thee bravely forward , to withstand The Forces of a mighty Band ? If thy stout - Genius could rush Through a Wood of Pikes , and crush Whole ordred Files of Men in Steel , Trample whole Ranks , and never feel The sting of Fear ; if thou dar'st meet The thundring Culvering , and greet Whole Canon in the face , out-brave A showr of Lead , and slight the Grave ? If thou canst do all this , then come , I 'le lead thee to Elysium . Crown thee with Honour in those Fields W●ere Death his fearful Standard wields . Amidst a Regiment● of Shade● ▪ tell Me , if thy Courage would not quell , When thou discern'st the Face of Hell . Wil t meet a thousand Deaths ? come on , I 'le teach thee but to meet this one . Should Scip●● or Caesar descry These in their Trenches , as they lye , They'd soon remove their Siege , this Sight Would make their hair to stand upright . And the Commanders hearts would ake , For horror , all their joynts would quake . Oft have I seen in Fenny Bogs Loathsom heaps of Toads and Frogs : Adders and Snakes , with Rats and Fries Of ugly Vermin , Insects , Flies . I could not choose but admire , To see them crawling in the Mire . 'T hath made my tender Limbs oft quake , To see the surface of a Lake Cover'd with Locusts ; but to see The Stygian Lake come up to me . To see a Brood of Hellish Hag , Crawling together in one Quag ; And I so near in the room , Strange that my Bed was not my Tomb ! O , I did live to see it ! But heed , What drops d' you think my Heart did bleed ? Whither did my chill Blood recoil For warmth , suppose ye , all that while ? Saw I so many Gorgons , and none Would please to turn me to a Stone . Merciless Mercy , to allow The sight of Death , and not know how To taste it , Heavens do ye bemoan My Torments , whilst I all alone Lay gazing on this Sight , bespread Your sable Weeds , and strike me dead : And in compassion of my Fears , Let fall a doleful showr of Tears . ‘ As I 'm a Woman , I 'le not deny ‘ These Fears ; but as a Witch , I defie ‘ Ten thousand Hells , if I should dye ‘ Ten thousand Deaths ; as I am a Maid , ‘ I scorn to be the least dismay'd . ‘ 'T is not my Spirit to fear , but to delight , ‘ At what to others were a killing sight . ‘ Is it likely a Witch should fear , ‘ Or a damn'd Sorceress shed a Tear ? ‘ No , I never did , nor never meant ‘ To shrink the least , when 't was my intent ‘ To fall on any desperate Attempt . ‘ To Hell I have been often sent , ‘ My Courage can be never spent . Heav'n frowns , I 'm sure , and scowls to view Dark Hell t' out face her dazling Hue. And could it choose but stein the Air , And blind the Sun , and smut the fair ▪ Transparent outside of the Globe , Mantling the Heavens with Hells black Robe . O , had you seen what loathsom streams Of pitchy Fogs ; what lazy steams Went rowling too and fro , and choak't The purer Air ; what stench provok't The chaster Stars , for n'other end Their Influences to suspend . Phoebus then could not domineer , Nor these Aegyptian Vapours cleer . When with his scorching Southern heat , His hot Solstitial Rays did beat On these opacous Clouds , would they To his commanding Beams give way ? No , but in scorn and base neglect , Back to his Face they did reflect . His now black Sooty Beams again , Angry at which , he turns his Rein , To drive backward his fiery Wain . But was not able ; at Mid-day Quite lost , he could not see his way . Wondring at this contempt , he wist Nothing but Hell could this resist . Wherefore , he must go on , or turn Beyond his Tropicks , tho all burn . 'Mongst the North-Stars a Track t' enquire , Ne're trampled by his Steeds of Fire . At last , he ghest it was his Crime , Perhaps to b'up before his Time . But was mista'ne , nor he alone , The World was out of order thrown . During that space , the Stars next Night Thinking to shine , had lost their light . The Prince of Planets Purblind grew , Glaring with a strange dusky Hue. Cerberus , whom Hercules drew From Hell , when he began to view The Light , turn'd his head aside , Sol's Beams not able to abide : Now , Sol himself his head did shrowd , Envelop'd in a wat'ry Cloud : Fearing his stately glittering Grace , With Stygian darkness to deface . And yet some Mists in th' air did bake , And just under his Circle Cake ; Which markt him like his Sister , fair , But pale and speckled here and there . Thus for a thrice succeeding Noon , He appear'd spotted like the Moon . In short , all things had some Translation , During this bloody Convocation .

CANTO V. By this the Court was forward grown , Almost all Actions overthrown . A thousand sev'ral Dooms , some Death , Some Life ; but hardly drawn with putrid Breath , Exhal'd from corrupt Entrals , panting , Better if such a Life were wanting . Some languish daily with faint Sweats , Others consume with extream Heats . Some clog'd with Swinish Pursiness , Some feeble , through Bursteness . Some crackt , fantastick , some deep mad , Some melancholy , dull and sad . Some raving desp'rately , some tame , Sporting at every Toy and Game . Some trade in Wounds and Purple gore , Some for Ulcers and Cancers roar . Others had aches , gr●pings , throws , Inward intolerable Woes . Catarrhs , Cramps , Wheasings , Obstructions , Coughs , Belching , Issues , Eruptions ; Apoplexies , Gouts , Stranguries , Green Sicknesses , Love Maladies . Surfets , Piles , Gangrenes , Dropsies , Tumors , Pleurisies , sharp and brinish Humors . Fevers , Convulsions , Scurvies , Strains , Distorted Sinews , shrunk up Veins . Lethargies ▪ ●alsies dead and shaking , And all manner of Heart-aking . Purples , Collick , Gravel and Stone , The Disease that rots the Bone : Neapolitan , French , or Indian Pain , The Modish Flux , the Gentile Strain . Quinzies , Corns , Tooth-ach , Blisters , Burns , Scalds , Agues by fits and turns . Kings Evil , Emeroids and Blastings , Lungs , Kidneys , Lights and Liver wastings ; Others troubled with the Hastings . Many a woful Wretch must Rue For the days work , what will ensue . For these few hours , for which whole years , Thousands may justly shed forth Tears . Thousands may have just cause to roar , And their most cursed states deplore . Each had his day , each had his hour , Even all that came under their power .

CANTO VI. But here 's not all , A second Train Forthwith came marching up amain . A Regiment of Ninety two , I told them , having less to do ; With Sagan on their head , all old Experienc'd Witches , fierce and bold . Foul Squalid Creatures every one , Dreadful Harpies to look upon . With sallow Countenances , and Hair Dishevel'd o're their Shoulders bare : Coal-black , and curled into Flakes , Twining like to so many Snakes . Grey , hollow Eyes , and Cheeks as thin As Envies Self , and wrinkled Skin . Lank Breasts , lean Arms , with wrizled Flanks , And mummy Hips , and shrunk up Shanks . But that I knew them in that form , They had been Furies , I had sworn : These all with Bag and Baggage chose The same place of Rendevouze . 'T would tyre y' in order down to set , How these two Jovial Armies met : What Ceremonies , and what Toys , What Tricks they us'd t' express their Joys . After a General Salute , Strait these Black Regiments were mute . And a Command proclaim'd to all , By the Lieutenant General : That each of every Rank and Station , Should prepare for a Consultation . Which done , each took him to his place , According to his Stock and Race : And solemnly in mighty State , All down unto the Council sate .

CANTO VII . By this they were compos'd , a show Of goodly Benchers , all a row . A deep Silence was made , all whist , After long Pause , when the whole List Sate looking one upon another , Waiting who should that Silence smother . Softly in state , rose up a Dame Of reverend Worth , Sagan by Name . She was of proner Body , Face Printed with Gravity and Grace . With lofty bending Brow , quick Eye Sparkling forth Beams of Majesty . Of Forehead high , of Visage lean And long , of Feature mean ▪ Of Colour swarthy , darkish Cheeks , Furrow'd all along with Reeks . High Roman-Nose , Hair all grey , Loosly dangling every way Down to her Heels , her Back a Bow , Which Age had bent , Supporters slow And faint , Wast long and small , Breasts limber , Body brindled all . And yet a kind of Decency Shone from that squalid Gravity . In this so comly Equipage , Rose up this goodly Personage ; And casting a sad sober Glance O're the whole Round , she did advance Her graceful Self to the full View , And hearing of that Damned Crew . Then with an Eye submissly thrown Upon the ground , she fetcht a Groan : And making a low Courtesy , With demure simpring Majesty She thus began — ‘ My Lords and Ladies , ‘ It grieves my Soul , when I reflect ‘ Upon my long careless Neglect , ‘ Of that great Charge your Honours have ‘ Nobly conferr'd on me your Slave . ‘ Wherefore my Blood you may Command , ‘ For at your Mercy here I stand . With that , she deeply sigh'd , and wrung Her ruful hands : ‘ Alas , my Tongue , ‘ And Hands , and Brain , and all 's too weak ‘ To do you service ! Speak , ô speak ‘ Your lowly Vassals Pardon ; speak ‘ Quickly , or my poor Heart will break . At which she stopt , yet would have spoke More still ; but fear and sorrow broke Her faultring Voice ; the Tears distill'd Amain , all down her Cheeks , and fill'd Those deep Gutturs , trickling apace Even to the Ground , in piteous case . So have I seen a Trait'rous Wight Behave himself , just in that plight . With what true Tears , I know not , wetting The Pavement where his Prince was setting : So hath he groan'd , so hath he wrung His too much guilty Hands , and flung His Arms across , so hath he tore His Locks , so could he speak no more , Not for his life , 'til Pardon brought Out of his Masters bosom , taught His Treason-tainted Tongue , from hence A thankful strain of Eloquence . Thus was our Or●●rix astound , Thus ran she , stuck she fast aground , And would not be fetch'd off , till one Brought her a Relaxation For that offence in Pluto's Name , And the whole Bench confirm'd the same . Which put new Courage to this faint Matron , and made her brisk and quaint . She that of late , seem'd quite depriv'd Of Speech , now being re-enliv'd , Spake to the Wonderment , and fear Of all the Powers that did her hear . For starting up with far more Grace , She star'd them boldly in the Face : Yet so , as she had not well shook Her former Dread quite off , she took A handful of the Hair she tore , And standing where she did before , Wiped her Eyes and Cheeks , all red As they were , with Tears , all blubbered . Then hurling the wet Fleece away , The Cloud remov'd , out burst the day ; Fear banished , and sorrow gone , She boldly , chearly thus went on .

CANTO VIII . ‘ My Lords , quoth she , making a low ‘ Obeisance to them all , I rebestow ‘ My hearty Thanks , in lieu of what ‘ I have receiv'd , and take you that . ‘ As for your Honours thus appeas'd , ‘ For these Indulgences , be pleas'd ‘ Thus to take notice , that you have thrown ‘ Your worthy Favour upon one ‘ That hath deserv'd it : No Courtesie ‘ Shall come , but it shall go from me . ‘ My Spirit 's high , Nay , I 'le be plain , ‘ I scorn to think , but ye shall gain ‘ By what y' have done , and shall for me , for know ‘ I am no Ideot , I tro . ‘ No Meal-mouth'd Novice , 't is not for nought , ‘ That for so long a time I have sought ‘ Into your Mysteries , and div'd ‘ Into the Depth of Hell , contriv'd ‘ So many Deaths , plotted such Woes , ‘ As cruel Witchcraft could impose . ‘ Am I not Mistress of my Art ? ‘ Can I not finely act my Part ? ‘ A Sagan , and not skill'd , 's a Fiction , ‘ Not hurtful , 't is a Contradiction . ‘ It cannot be , but where I am ‘ There must be Blood , my Name ‘ Is never us'd without a Spell , ‘ The whole World knows me right well . ‘ It cannot be , but where I tread , ‘ There should be forthwith heaps of Dead , ‘ To pave the Way before me , Thus — ‘ The Infant , and the Aged Sire , ‘ The Stripling and the youthful Squire ; ‘ The Matron and the stately Dame , ‘ The Widow , and the Wife of Fame ; ‘ The gallant Virgin , all a row , ‘ At my approach down they must go . ‘ And shall not I be thought a meet ‘ Mate for the best ? that at my Feet ‘ Can level with one look a Score , ‘ Let 's see the best of you do more . ‘ For when I come , I come like Thunder , ‘ And madly tear mens Bones asunder . ‘ I choak the Embryo , and from the Womb , ‘ I dash the Infant to his Tomb. ‘ Before he 's well enur'd to Light , ‘ I le hurl him into endless Night . ‘ The Child that 's scourging of his Top , ‘ Or trundling of his Ball , I pop ‘ Next Morn into his Grave : To day , ‘ He is a Lord , perchance , all gay ‘ Amidst his Ladies ; but to morrow ‘ He dyes , to theirs and his Friends sorrow . ‘ When Boys are at their Waggery , ‘ If I do but by chance pass by , ‘ The Youth on whom I glance , shall fall , ‘ Struck dead o' th' place , before 'um all . ‘ He that sate pratling at the Table , ‘ So pretily , shall not be able , ‘ Before an hour go about , ‘ To get one Syllable distinctly out , ‘ Not for a World ; put him not to 't , ‘ He is bewitcht , he cannot do 't . ‘ Some have but tipt over a Frame , ‘ And have been all their life-time Lame : ‘ Others but stept out in a Night , ‘ And ever after lost their sight . ‘ And some their Wits , some have been taken , ‘ And with Convulsions strongly shaken ; ‘ So torn and rackt , that you would wonder ‘ Body and Soul flew not asunder . ‘ The sprouting Stripling , that in short time ‘ Would unto perfect Nature climb ; ‘ Whose rare Endowments have began ‘ Before his time , to style him Man : ‘ Then come I to prevent ‘ Those over-hasty Vertues lent ; ‘ A powerful Charm forthwith flew ‘ Towards this Mark , and hit and slew . ‘ The lusty Youngster , that hath run ‘ To the degree of Twenty one ; ‘ When commonly the Climate's hot , ‘ And scorching , It shall be his Lot ‘ To dye by Coals : I 'le convey ‘ A Julip shall that Fire allay ; ‘ Insensibly it shall congeal ‘ The Marrow in his Bones , and steal ‘ Into his Bowels , by a Trick , ‘ And at last strike him to the Quick . ‘ Or it shall rot his Lungs , or stop ‘ The Fountain of his Blood , or hop ‘ Into his Bladder , or his Reins , ‘ And plague him with continual Pains . ‘ His Blood that dances in his Veins , ‘ And boyls with active Fire , my Strains ‘ Can freez , I have such Spells at hand ‘ Can finely settle and command ‘ His cap'ring Spirits , no more to rise , ‘ Nor keep time in his Arteries . ‘ The curious Virgin , in her Prime ‘ And blooming years ; O then 't is time ‘ For me to blast those Roses , stain ‘ The Whiteness of her Lillies , drain ‘ The Channel of her sprightly Blood ; ‘ O this to me is precious Food ! ‘ To squeez the Juyce from out the Veins , ‘ It serves to me for th' greatest Gains . ‘ My Soul could wish , to choak ‘ The Spirits Vehicles , and soak ‘ The Archeus , moisture Radical to quench ‘ The stock of Life without a Drench : ‘ And by secret Art leisurely , ‘ To pine the whole Mass , till it dye . ‘ No Joy so pleasing , no Delight ‘ Affects me , as does such a sight . ‘ The Man whose full Consistency , ‘ Spreads him in perfect Decency ; ‘ To shew Dame Nature's chiefest Art , ‘ Fairly perform'd in every part , ‘ And the whole Fabrick strong and neat , ‘ Makes up a Microcosm compleat . ‘ His tuned Humors in just weight ‘ And measure , boyl'd up to a height ; ‘ And every Limb exactly knit ‘ With severe Sinews , strong and fit . ‘ I say , the Man , that truly may ‘ Call himself so , during that stay ; ‘ And not before , nor after , He ‘ Is the object of my Sorcery . ‘ 'T is he I aim at , and I must ‘ Level his Bulwark to the Dust . ‘ I hate , O I cannot abide , ‘ To see him strutting in his Pride . ‘ Or He , or I , or both must fall , ‘ I care not which , but down he shall . ‘ I will deface his Glory , if I can , ‘ And raze the stately Fabrick of a Man . ‘ 'T is done already , he has ta'ne ‘ A Dose , that shall warrant his Bane . ‘ His well cemented Joynts shall slack , ‘ And all his stubborn Sinews crack . ‘ 'T will make his sturdy Limbs to quiver , ‘ His well compacted Bones 't will shiver : ‘ It will corrode through every part , ‘ And last of all infect his Heart . ‘ Thus the best work Nature can frame , ‘ 'T is I am able to mar the same . ‘ He whose declining years begin , ‘ To warn him to the Common Inne , ‘ Where Clods are the best Couches , Stones ‘ The softest Pillows , rotten Bones ‘ The choicest and the daintiest Fare , ‘ The Worms be Delicacies there : ‘ Where pale Death is the courteous Host . ‘ That doth his Ruful Guests accost . ‘ Welcoms all Comers to his Bowr ; ‘ But ah , his Entertainment 's sowre . ‘ Yet he hath harbour'd Kings and Peers , ‘ And Emperours of ancient years . ‘ Ladies and Queens have not deny'd , ‘ In his dark Chambers to abide . ‘ His noysom Steams do not molest , ‘ No Sounds disturb his quiet Rest . ‘ Within those silent Cells do lye ‘ The Series of Mortality ; ‘ The Noble and the Vulgar , All ‘ Have lodg'd with him , and ever shall . ‘ He then , whose Years call him away , ‘ And tell him , long he must not stay : ‘ Whose oft Infirmities bid come , ‘ And hasten to his longest Home ; ‘ Where , after all his Toil he may ‘ Keep Everlasting Holiday ; ‘ Even such an one I will not spare , ‘ Though he should beg but for a bare ‘ Year , Month or Day , I 'le tell him , No , ‘ I pity none , down ye must go . ‘ Tho with his feeble Knees he wear ‘ The Marble-Floor , nay , tho he tear ‘ With groans and cries the yeilding Air , ‘ Yet for all this I will not hear . ‘ The Reverend Age I much neglect , ‘ And the grey Hairs I disrespect : ‘ I flout at that , which would require ‘ Due Worship from a comly Sire . ‘ His bald Alabaster Crown , ‘ His frosty Beard , and his Fur'd Gown ; ‘ His Snowy Scalp , and what else Age ‘ Hath in it Venerable and Sage . ‘ I Jeer the hoar Grandsire , Nodding , ‘ Poring upon the ground and plodding , ‘ With his cramp Shoulder and his Staff , ‘ To see him trudge , it makes me laugh . ‘ I fleer at the old driveling Swain , ‘ To see him s●ud to and and again : ‘ To see him sit , and mump and moap , ‘ And in the Chimney-corner grope . ‘ Amongst a few small Embers raking , ‘ The Ashes , shivering and quaking . ‘ To hear him cough , and spit and spawl , ‘ As he would fetch up Guts and all . ‘ I 'le try , if the old Mangy Knave , ‘ Can 't cough a little in his Grave . ‘ He 's just upon the brink already , ‘ And is not able to stand steddy ; ‘ But the least touch will push him by , ‘ And plunge him to Eternity . ‘ He 's gone , past all hopes , the poor Wight ‘ Is with a Blast puft out of sight . ‘ I quickly , slily gave him a Bole , ‘ That sent him down to the Pit-hole . ‘ The furious Captain I can tame , ‘ And cool his warlike Blood , I frame ‘ A mixture , that at the least taste , ‘ Drives him to Limbo in all haste . ‘ Let Mars , the man that 's clad in Steel , ‘ Take heed of me , I 'le make him feel ‘ That at his Heart , he ne're shall know , ‘ Which way it gave him his Deaths blow . ‘ Let him rage , chase , fret and fume , ‘ 'Til he be weary , I presume . ‘ For all his Swaggering , he is sure , ‘ You 'l strait perceive him as demure , ‘ As calm as may be ; on his Trotter , ‘ Methinks I see him 'gin to totter , ‘ And snatch the Reins ; but all in vain , ‘ Down comes the Rider and his Train . ‘ The Drunken Gull , that says he 's arm'd ‘ With strong Juyce , and cannot be harm'd ; ‘ But swears and stares , as he were mad : ‘ Let me alone , I 'le tame the Lad. ‘ I 'le give him that , for all his swagg'ring , ‘ Shall put him to a fit of Stagg'ring , ‘ So long , till the sottish Slave , ‘ Stagger at last into his Grave . ‘ The foul Glutton that lies and struts ‘ His gorrel'd Paunch , cramming his Guts ‘ Whole days and Nights , with greazy chear : ‘ I 'le make him buy that at a dear ‘ And sawcy Rate : That beastly Joy ‘ He now conceives , shall most annoy ‘ And loath his Taste , I 'le spice his Pyes , ‘ And season his Delicacies . ‘ I 'le sowce his Dainties , I 'le prepare ‘ For him all his Bill of Fare . ‘ I 'le feed his Maw , and feast his Eye , ‘ I know he likes my Cookery . ‘ I 'le Candy and Preserve his Fruit , ‘ His Marmalade and Syrups , sute ‘ T' his Palate ; his Sweet-meats I 'le fit , ‘ For if I do 't , be sure 't will hit . ‘ I know his dainty liquorish Tooth , ‘ His curious Appetite , forsooth , ‘ None but my self can him please , ‘ And when in pain I give him ease , ‘ I hit his humor to a hair . ‘ I make his Fire , and fetch his Chair . ‘ I set his Close-stool , and his Pot , ‘ Warm his Neck-cloth and Night-cap hot . ‘ I wash his Dishes , clean his Plate , ‘ And scowr his Spits early and late . ‘ I fetch his Water for him , lay ‘ Napkin and Trenchers every day . ‘ I 'le sweeten and I 'le spice his Cup , ‘ Yea , and make him drink all up . ‘ I 'le dip his Morsels , fill his Wine , ‘ And fat him up like a Swine , ‘ Cut his Throat with this hand of mine . ‘ The lazy Lubbard dawb'd with Scurf , ‘ That sits and smoaks him o're a Turf , ‘ Poking i' th' Embers , when there lye ‘ Good Faggots and Billets hard by , ‘ And he like a foul lazy Cur , ‘ For fear of Cold is loth to stir . ‘ That in his nasty Kennel snorts ‘ 'Til Mid-day , with his grey Consorts ‘ Crawling about him , while he shrugs ‘ And rubs , and scratches , yawns , and snugs ‘ O're head and ears ; an ill beginner , ‘ That knows not where to get his Dinner , ‘ And will not rise to earn't : for these ‘ Leads he a Dogs life , hunger and ease . ‘ I 'le drop a Spider into his Beer , ‘ Or cause a Toad to creep in there , ‘ That hath been bred in Corners moist , ‘ By sluttish filth , I 'le foist ‘ An Adder to his Bed-straw , pop a Snake ‘ Between the Sheets to keep him ' wake . ‘ For Nastiness at Board and Bed , ‘ I 'le certainly have him sped . ‘ The damned Lecher , with his Imp , ‘ His pocky Bawd , and rotten Pimp ; ‘ That with his Punks at Midnight roars , ‘ Cards , Dices , Gormandizes , Whores : ‘ Carowses , Capers , Swears and Revels , ‘ In pomp , among so many Devils . ‘ I 'le come among that Goatish Crew , ‘ And give the muddy Trulls their due . ‘ I 'le plague their Mistress and Commander , ‘ The mouldy Bawd , and rusty Pander ; ‘ With Scurvy , Gouts , and pocky Sores , ‘ Tormenting all the Rogues and Whores , ‘ Paying off all their old Scores . ‘ As for the Gallant swagg'ring Blade , ‘ I 'le bind him Prentice to the Trade ; ‘ And I shall teach him Feats of Love , ‘ How he may all Affections prove . ‘ I 'le dictate to the Roaring Boy , ‘ Present the Gentleman a Toy , ‘ Wherewith to allure his Mistress heart , ‘ That she from him shall never part : ‘ Nay , and it shall , to make all sure , ‘ A thousand Mistresses procure . ‘ All shall be toucht , all shall run mad , ‘ For love of this brave lusty Lad. ‘ He 'l carry that about him , which ‘ Shall all Beholders Eyes bewitch . ‘ Walking the Streets , they shall admire ‘ His Beauty , and set all a fire : ‘ And crowd about him for a Kiss , ‘ And happy she that did not miss . ‘ In pride whereof , the Mothers Daughter ‘ Shall lick her Lips a Twelve-month after . ‘ Thus will I sooth him up with Pride , ‘ When he shall see himself espy'd , ‘ And pointed at for a rare Piece , ‘ Right worthy of a Princes Niece . ‘ Do not mistake me now , as tho , ‘ My Noble Lords , I did bestow ‘ This Boon for good upon him ; No , ‘ I cannot change my Nature so . ‘ Tho , for a while , I touch upon ‘ The brink of Good e're and anon ; ‘ Yet strait I verge , before I venter , ‘ And keep me to my proper Center . ‘ Thus then , in lieu of all his Loves , ‘ I intend to handle him without Gloves ; ‘ In his full pride and flanting state , ‘ I 'le make him odious to his Mate . ‘ And next , to all his Doxies ; First , ‘ I le leave him nothing in his Purse : ‘ No not a Doit ; this ground work laid , ‘ To th' full I 'm sure to have him paid ; ‘ And by them too , who his Vassals were , ‘ Whilst he fed them with dainty Cheer . ‘ Then they to him all Beauty brought ; ‘ But now , by them he 's worse than nought . ‘ Before , he was a cleanly Piece , ‘ But now , he swarms with Fleas and Lice . ‘ Before , his more refined Clay , ‘ Like Alexander's , every way ‘ Did cast a fragrant Scent ; but now , ‘ No poyson'd ugly Carrion Sow ‘ Stinks worse than He. Before , O rare , ‘ Adonis was not half so Fair. ‘ But now , the Scale is turn'd you see , ‘ No Africk Moor 's so black as He. ‘ Vlysses was not half so witty ‘ Before ; but now , the more 's the pity , ‘ ( So fading all our Natures be ) ‘ A Fool speaks better sense than He. ‘ Before , Plato was not so wise ; ‘ But now , I speak 't with weeping Eyes , ‘ Politius Brain 's ne're did more flote , ‘ Nor Nestor's hoary Coxcomb dote . ‘ Before , more valiant and stout ‘ Than Hector , that would ne're give out ; ‘ But now , more cowardly and base , ‘ Than ever Dastard Thersites was : ‘ At a drawn Blade he durst not peep , ‘ But shivering like a Mouse would creep . ‘ In fine , he was a Gentleman , ‘ Fit to accost a Curtezan . ‘ But now , a clownish Robinhood , ‘ A Kitchin-Wench for him 's too good . ‘ Er●● , a Bit for a Ladies Tooth , ‘ But now a Scrape-Trencher forsooth , ‘ If she should meet him in her dish , ‘ Wou'd scorn to soul her Fingers , pish ; ‘ She 'd cry , No by her Troth , not she , ‘ She 'l have a prop'rer Man than He. ‘ She 'd not touch him with a pair of Tongs : ‘ An old Fornicator , that longs , ‘ And fain would have a Bit for 's Cat ; ‘ I' Faith 't is pepper'd , you know what . ‘ Let him to his Companions go , ‘ For I 'le ha' none of him , I tro . ‘ Bast him , and kick him out of doors , ‘ Turn him loose among his Whores . ‘ A base Whore-masterly Slave , ‘ The Pox will bring him to his Grave . ‘ Ha , ha , what is your Courage cool'd ? ‘ I' Faith you are pretily befool'd . ‘ You 're ev'n serv'd right enough , you 're paid ‘ In your own Coin . See , there 's a Maid ! ‘ What think ye ? She 's a handsom Lass , ‘ And sprightly too : Hei , ho , Time was . ‘ Come let us see you strut it now , ‘ And prank it stately , you know how . ‘ Alas , he droops ! fetch him a Lever , ‘ Quickly , to help him cock his Bever . ‘ Make him a Cawdle , strait , poor honest Man , ‘ His Back is broke , lend , lend an hand . ‘ His Legs will scarce support him : alack ! ‘ Sweet Gentleman , a Cup of Sack ‘ Fetch him ; 't will do him good at heart , ‘ And cherish his cold blood in part . ‘ Ha , Sirrah , how now , straddle ye ? ‘ You pay now for your Lechery . ‘ What through the Nose ? or do you jeer ‘ The sniveling Scismatick ? stand cleer , ‘ Keep off , kind Sir , for I desire ‘ Not to be scorcht , you 'r all a fire . ‘ Now where 's your Activity become , ‘ Is all your sprightly vigour gone ? ‘ Where are your Garters , and your Roses ? ‘ What Wheel divided both your Noses ? ‘ What Extraordinary Care , ‘ Hath fetcht off your Bushy-Hair ? ‘ Or what hath lessened your Shanks , ‘ What Rogue was that , that play'd such Pranks . ‘ T' abuse a Gentleman in 's Bed , ‘ And leave him ne're a Tooth in 's Head . ‘ To stew him in a Tub , by th' Clock , ‘ Then have him to the Chopping-block . ‘ Mangle him in such piteous wise , ‘ That he can scarce look out on 's Eyes . ‘ Nor hold in 's hand , but dodderingly , ‘ Nor tread on 's feet , but gingerly . ‘ So soak him , that his very Skin ‘ You may perceive shrivel agen . ‘ He is so soar in all his Joynts , ‘ As he were prickt with Needles-points . ‘ So chill , that the least breath of Air ‘ Drives through and through him every where . ‘ All pity you , Sir , as you go ; ‘ Who hath misus'd the Gallant so ? ‘ The Man 's a proper Man , but Rogues and Whores ‘ Have pickt his Pocket , turn'd him out a doors , ‘ And thrown Pispots upon his Head , ‘ And sent the poor Wretch sick to Bed , ‘ Having long since planted Horns on 's Head . ‘ Some honest Body take him in , ‘ Bestow a covering to his Skin . ‘ Alas , none dare to entertain , ‘ For fear his Pox should prove their Bane . ‘ Thus he , admir'd before , is now despis'd ‘ In squalid Rags walks disguis'd , ‘ 'Till starv'd and rot , without a Witch , ‘ Ignobly he dies in a Ditch . ‘ The frolick Spend-thrift , that lets fly ‘ Huge Treasures by the desp'rate Dye : ‘ Baffling and lavishing away ‘ A whole Inheritance at Play : ‘ That in a Minutes space le ts go ‘ Whole Patrimonies at a Throw . ‘ By the turning of a Bone awry , ‘ Forfeits a rich Annuity . ‘ At one Throw he shall Pass ye , ‘ A whole Inheritance ex Asse . ‘ That at one Luckless-Cast , gives out ‘ Fair Fields for forty Miles about . ‘ That 'fore he will be counted base , ‘ Loses whole Forrests at a Chase . ‘ Hazards a Warren at a Loss , ‘ Smothers a Lordship at a Toss : ‘ And bandies Tenements together , ‘ At random , no body knows whither . ‘ A Farm , a Lease , or such a Toy or Fine , ‘ He 'l strike you neatly underline . ‘ He knows by craft to Cog a Dye , ‘ Or shift a Trump in handsomly . ‘ But if the spotted Cube doth fall ‘ Contrary ways , then have at all . ‘ If then it chance the wrong way to lye , ‘ He 's surely brought to Beggery . ‘ Or if the Cards amiss be thrown , ‘ Strait he can call nothing his own . ‘ And this you 'd think were punishment , ‘ For one poor Fool sufficient . ‘ But I think not so , I care ‘ To make him fall into Despair : ‘ For fear he should repent , and thrive , ‘ My labour is to deprive ‘ Him of his Senses and his Wits , ‘ And cast him into fainting Fits , ‘ Then leave him quite , that is my Drift , ‘ To the wide World , and let him shift . ‘ The starcht Capricio , that keeps time , ‘ In 's gate , and ne're speaks , but in Rhime ; ‘ That stands stiff bent , as one dead , ‘ Keeps all his Postures to a Thred . ‘ All things about him are in print , ‘ No Angle , but there 's something in 't . ‘ With a most Artificial Grace , ‘ No hair , but in its proper place . ‘ And if one Lock more on one side lye , ‘ It makes him hold his Neck awry . ‘ His Tresses must be exactly purl'd , ‘ Starcht , frizled , crisped , sleekt and curl'd , ‘ Mustacho's , Ruler or Dagger-wise , ‘ For too much shadowing his Eyes . ‘ Men must be fain to go behind , ‘ He 's so perfum'd , and take the Wind. ‘ He comes on ruffling , you may hear him ‘ A far off , 'fore you can come near him ▪ ‘ He is some rich Curmudgeon's Heir , ‘ That scrap't it with a double care . ‘ That Thred-bare went , because he would ‘ Have him go in his Cloth of Gold . ‘ And he performs his Fathers Will , ‘ 'Til he comes at last to grind in a Mill. ‘ He cares not to adorn his Back , ‘ Tho all his Substance go to wrack . ‘ He 'l wear y' a Lordship in a Band , ‘ And a Fee-simple on each Hand ▪ ‘ He 'l for a Bonnet wear y' a Hall , ‘ Or a great Castle , Tower and all . ‘ He 'l clasp y' a Mannor 'bout his Wast , ‘ But shall do so no more in haste . ‘ He 'l keep y' a Court-lodge next his Skin , ‘ Pardon him if he do so agin . ‘ He 'l wrap ( pray Heav'ns he catch no harm ) ‘ Whole Woods about him , to keep him warm . ‘ He will consume ye , in pure Gilt , ‘ Ten thousand Crowns upon a Hilt : ‘ And as much on a Belt and Blade , ‘ Next will be , turn him to the Spade . ‘ Upon one Suit , he will not care ye , ‘ To spend a stately Monastery . ‘ It shall be embroidered with Copes , ‘ And Mitres , dawb'd with Priests and Popes . ‘ Powder'd with Steeples to the knees , ‘ All lined with the Churches Fees . ‘ It shall be stiff●ened with Tithes , ‘ Basted with Schools and Donatives . ‘ Spangled with Sees and Deanaries , ‘ And strongly sticht with Chanteries . ‘ All his Coats , Cloaks , Cassocks and Gowns , ‘ Are Chappels , Abbies , Cloisters , Towns . ‘ This man is sure never to lack , ‘ That carries his Estate on 's back . ‘ He still all his own Wealth commands , ‘ Not trusting it in Hucksters hands . ‘ But shall he thus squander away ‘ So much , and all to make him Gay ? ‘ And will none take the pains to School ‘ This same gawdy fantastick Fool ? ‘ Why , what serve I for then ? sure , ‘ My Genius will not endure ‘ To see an Ass loaded with Gold , ‘ Who can with patience behold ? ‘ Now will you see some some sport ? Come trace ‘ My steps , I 'le lead him to a place , ‘ Where he hath chanced at the Wine , ‘ To meet some young Scholars of mine ; ‘ That for their skill , all of them dare ‘ Be Tutors to the richest Heir . ‘ Captains and Ladies they be all , ‘ That will be ready at my Call . ‘ Always appointed at a Beck , ‘ Subject to my censorious Check . ‘ Every one duly knows his Part , ‘ They have con'd their Lessons all by heart ▪ ‘ The curious faculty of Hooking , ‘ The ingenious Art of Gentile Rooking : ‘ With Hocus Pocus , slight of hand , ‘ To cheat a Novice of his Land . ‘ To inveagle him with a Love Trick , ‘ Then come aloft , Jackanapes , quick : ‘ By the Virtue of a smooth-fac'd Lass , ‘ Whip , come away , rise up Sir Ass . ‘ These Youths now have my Peacock caught , ‘ And they 'l not leave him worth a Groat . ‘ They 'l cut his Cox-comb , pluck his Plumes , ‘ Mar all his Civets and Perfumes . ‘ They 'l muzzle all his neat set Ruffs , ‘ And quite deface his plighted Cuffs . ‘ Ruffle his Garters and his Laces , ‘ Tatter his Plush in twenty places . ‘ Tear of his Jewels and his Rings , ‘ And rob him of his costly Things . ‘ And all by pure Feats of Activity , ‘ Without any gross Cheatry . ‘ Neat Fetches of Legerdmain , ‘ Presto , Be gone Sir , Come again . ‘ By the Virtue of a Smirking Girl ▪ ‘ They be juggle him into an Earl , ‘ Or a great Marquess , never fear it , ‘ Noble Sir , your Estate will bear it . ‘ With these , and now and then a Frown , ‘ They Conjure the proud Fool up and down . ‘ So they cast a Mist about him , ‘ And for a May-Game jeer and flout him ; ‘ And he hath not the Wit to look about him . ‘ What Herald's he that dare confute us ? ‘ You are descended , Sir , from Brutus . ‘ The Conqueror's Blood runs in your Veins , ‘ If you would please to take the pains . ‘ Or we , for you , to search the Rowls ‘ I' th' Towre ; there in those very Scrowls , ‘ You 'l find what Feats of Chivalry ‘ Were acted by your Ancestry . ‘ You little think , but we have try'd , ‘ How near in Blood you are Ally'd ‘ Unto the Famous Warwick's Guy ? ‘ Nay , one that hath but half an Eye , ‘ May trace your Pedigree exact , ‘ From Locrine , ●amber , Albanact . ‘ Or if you 'd be of Saxon Line , ‘ Old Tuisco was a Si●e of Thine . ‘ 'T is Martial Blood runs in your Veins , ‘ That breeds none but Heroick strains . ‘ Your Arteries flush with noble Spirits , ‘ O that you had but to your Merits . ‘ Come , match you to a stately Dame , ‘ Of Gentile Race , to advance your Name . ‘ Be not so modest to deny ▪ ‘ The World a Brood of Princes ; Why , ‘ Why should your Valour be depriv'd ‘ Of Fame ? Try , 't will not be deny'd . ‘ To those that from your Loyns shall come , ‘ The Earth will joyfully find Room : ‘ And proudly harbour such a Breed , ‘ As shall from you and yours proceed . ‘ With these and such like Flatteries , ‘ The sottish youngster gives to prize ‘ His fond conceited Worth ; and in this Tumor ▪ ‘ Of Pride , take him in the Humor , ‘ And make him firmly plight his Troth ▪ ‘ To one , whom a Sedan-Man would be loth ▪ ‘ To carry to his proper Home , ‘ And make the Fusty Quean his own . ‘ Next day they make a quick Dispatch , ‘ And in a Trice clap up the Match . ‘ When he 's scarce yet warm in 's Geer , ‘ Not having liv'd with her a Year ; ‘ But she has danc't the Fop a Jigg , ‘ And giv'n the Gentleman a Figg . ‘ Alas , how loath was he to leave her , ‘ Her sweet Man dy'd of a Fever . ‘ He 's dead and gone , Heavens rest his Soul , ‘ But ne're had Wife more cause to Howl , ‘ For such a dear Husbands loss . ‘ O , she 'l follow him by Weeping-Cross . ‘ He shall be her last Husband , he shall , ‘ To find him she would lose Life and all . ‘ Some good kind Body she would fain , ‘ Quickly to put her out of her Pain . ‘ For Pity 's sake , in this Distress , ‘ Dispatch her , she can do no less . ‘ If not , her Self will do 't ; Come Death ‘ And welcom , haste to stop my Breath . ‘ Thus she deceives the World , Dejected , ‘ A Mourner false , by none suspected . ‘ She has no Issue , all 's her own , ‘ She 's on a sudden Wealthy grown . ‘ Now she 's alone , but many a Lad , ‘ For her sake , in warm Plush is clad . ‘ With her together the Estate sharing , ‘ Like Lords deliciously faring . ‘ But she must spend her days in Tears , ‘ Those few days that remain in Cares . ‘ The managing of All , committing ‘ To her good Friends , as they think fitting : ‘ She 'l lead a private Life , tho she ‘ I' th' mean time , ne're so Publick be . ‘ She 'l take a Chamber , hire her Food , ‘ And so mourn out her Widow-hood . ‘ I will not say , She there lies Leager , ‘ 'Till she can find another , eager ‘ Upon the Business , some hot Shot ‘ That has a mind to go to th' Pot : ‘ And then this Widow will not stick ‘ To play you such another Trick .

CANTO IX . ‘ Did y' ever see a Rav'nous Kite , ‘ Or Towring Hawk , with fiercer Flight ‘ Seize on a tender Dove , whose Pat ‘ Posts him to the ground down Flat , ‘ Or hath it ever been your Lot , ‘ To see a trembling Leveret shot ‘ Stark dead , unawares : Or for to view ‘ A Harmless Lamb , first bid Adieu ‘ T' his watchful Dam , and then to meet ‘ With grizly Wolves , that sadly Greet ‘ Their welcom Guest , the strongest Treats him ‘ So kindly , as he means to eat him . ‘ After this grim Salute , he fasts ‘ His Claws t' his Sides , and down him casts . ‘ He 's ta'ne , he 's sure , in vain to cry , ‘ Too late to strive now , he must dye : ‘ But not as yet , the Wolf will play , ‘ And sport a while with his Prey . ‘ At length , he chops upon the same , ‘ At Maw , so ends the deadly Game . ‘ Dallying himself thus out of Breath , ‘ He Jests his Play-fellow to Death : ‘ And having stufft his pamper'd Guts , ‘ Licking his Chaps , away he struts . ‘ Ladies and Sisters to me Heark , ‘ Phoelanis Ghost , grim Nero's Mark. ‘ 'T will make your pale Shades blush , to see ‘ Your so far out-stript Cruelty . ‘ Nor wonder I to see , at all , ‘ An Ass under a Lion fall . ‘ They are their proper Preys to push , ‘ And at their liberty to crush . ‘ These are Brute-beasts , yet in Man's Brest , ‘ That Sacred Cabinet , may rest ‘ Such Cruelty to their own kind , ‘ As in Brutes you shall never find . ‘ Women are Witches , there 's a Hell ‘ Of all she Devils ; Heark , they yell : ‘ So do they chase , and frown and stare , ‘ And foam and fret , and tear their Hair . ‘ So do they whisper , and hide ‘ In Cells from all the World beside . ‘ So they disturb men in their sleep , ‘ Like Franticks roar , howl and weep . ‘ For no Offence , for no Sin , ‘ At Innocents they squint and grin . ‘ All this Flattery , be sure , ‘ Is but like Harpies , to allure ‘ Infants to Pluto's lustful Bed , ‘ And to leave Changlings in their stead . ‘ So they 're amaz'd , as they that spye ‘ Spectrums and Ghosts , which forthwith hy ‘ To clasp them in their Claws , and soop ‘ Them through the Air , riding Cock-a-Hoop . ‘ To frightful Stories , Mortals hark , ‘ Last Night I heard the Dog-Star bark . ‘ Devils , you may blush , to view ▪ ‘ Racks , never found out by you . ‘ It may ravish your cruel Hearts , ‘ To see Witches of such rare Parts , ‘ Your selves out-done in your own Arts. ‘ Thy help , Calliope , and yours Divine ‘ Apollo , with the Sisters Nine . ‘ Fill me a Draught of Helicon , ‘ To quicken my Invention ; ‘ And let a Pitcher stand me by , ‘ Which thou , my Muse , when I am dry , ‘ Present , that I may drink up all ▪ ‘ The Virtue of which Liquor , shall ‘ Advance my Genius , and create ‘ A Shoal of Raptures sublimate . ‘ Which shall infuse , dictate , inspire , ‘ Teach me in a Poëtick Ire , ‘ To shoot at Baseness ; Here , O here , ‘ You 'l find it acted ; Sirs , Come near . ‘ Come all the World , and follow me , ‘ 'T is I shall make Discovery . ‘ You fancy Millions of Woes , ‘ To be in Hell amongst your Foes ; ‘ But of what kind , no body knows . ‘ Understand I would fain , ‘ Where there 's no Flesh , where lyes the Pain ? ‘ I 'le grant , in the Soul is Guilt and Grief , ‘ Horrour , Despair , and no Relief . ‘ But we use Flesh and Bones to grind , ‘ Cannot reach to torment the Mind . ‘ But at the second hand , by Losses ‘ Of Goods , and Worldly Crosses . ‘ For this we ransack all the Weeds , ‘ Grub up Roots , and rake up Seeds . ‘ All venom'd Juyces serve our Needs , ‘ Our Faith 's in them more than our Creeds , ‘ By which many a Patient bleeds . ‘ A thousand poyson'd Simples meet , ‘ In one Compound each other greet , ‘ Joyning their forces in a Faction , ‘ To make one strong united Action ; ‘ One , that for its mixture rare , ‘ May with Medeas Drugs compare . ‘ The Sybil , or Ciraean Fry , ‘ For Poysoning , I dare defy . ‘ For your Fancy you may take leave , ‘ Freely Chimaera's to conceive . ‘ Suppose a Naked Soul weltring in Blood , ‘ And wallowing in Dirt and Mud ; ‘ Stuck with a thousand Darts , half dead , ‘ With Ulcers all embroidered ; ‘ Abut whom a thousand Vipers cling , ‘ And fasten many a poysonous Sting ; ‘ Gnawing his Heart , sucking his Blood , ‘ And preying on his Flesh , for food . ‘ Who can withstand a Sentence past , ‘ Seeing his Execution haste ? ‘ Or what escape can he invent , ‘ That sees his cruel Hangman sent . ‘ A fearful Messenger of Death , ‘ With a strict Charge , to stop his Breath ? ‘ The Law against him must proceed , ‘ There 's no Reprieve , he must bleed . ‘ I am the Judge , with my own Hand , ‘ I 'le execute my own Command . ‘ The most careful Shepheard Swain , ‘ That sees his tender Kid half slain , ‘ Cannot ransom from the Wolfs Jaws , ‘ Or from the Mastiffs cruel Paws . ‘ The Ass is in the Lions Den , ‘ What hopes of Life can there be then ? ‘ Who sees a Murderer on the Rack , ‘ And hears his Joynts in sunder crack ; ‘ That can choose but commiserate , ‘ And bemoan his dying state ? ‘ Or who with dry Eyes can behold , ‘ A Living Wretch in Chains extoll'd , ‘ 'Twixt Heaven and Earth , for every Crow ‘ To peck at , flying too and fro . ‘ A woful Spectacle to view , ‘ How ev'ry hungry croaking Crew ‘ Of Ravens , flutt'ring Night and Day , ‘ Await his Carkass for their Prey . ‘ What Crystal-Eye that sees him there , ‘ Will not dissolve into a Tear ? ‘ When wanting Food , for to refresh ‘ His dying Spirits , he eats his Flesh . ‘ And here and there strives to bereave , ‘ ( So far as Chains will give him leave , ) ‘ His Breast and Shoulders of their poor ‘ Lean Covert , gaping still for more . ‘ It needs must wound a tender Soul , ‘ To hear him shriek , to hear him howl , ‘ For what none dare befriend him , Bread ‘ And drink , till he be struck stark dead . ‘ O , these are woful Objects , these ‘ Are harsh to them that sit at ease . ‘ To them that feel no pain , these Woes ‘ Must needs be pity-moving Throes . ‘ For tell me , Hardest-hearted can , ‘ ( But tell me first , thou art a Man . ) ‘ I say then , Can you choose but melt ‘ For them that have such Torments felt ? ‘ Art flesh ▪ frail flesh and bone , ‘ And canst thou hear them sigh alone ? ‘ Mortal , and canst not afford one , ‘ No ▪ not the Echo of a Groan ? ‘ Why know , hard Sir , there 's not a Rock ‘ So Stony , but that it can mock ‘ A Throb ; there 's not a Flint ‘ So dull , but that it will give a Hint , ‘ At least , of a true doleful Noise , ‘ And strive for a shift to feign a Voice . ‘ The very Marble , could it hear , ‘ Would answer a Sob with a Tear . ‘ And canst thou be so stupid , what ‘ Not once to move , no not a jot , ‘ At him that on the Gridiron lyes ‘ And broils , at him that rosts and fryes ? ‘ What , canst not let one sad drop slip ‘ From thy dry Eyes , be 't but to drip ‘ His scorched Limbs withal , or slake ‘ The raging heat , canst thou not quake ? ‘ At him , that 'fore a Furnace turns ‘ Upon a Spit , and roars , and burns ? ‘ At him that in a Fatt of boyling Lead , ‘ Rowls him about till he be dead ? ‘ 'T were fit some Phalaris would try , ‘ And teach thee Slave , the way to dye . ‘ 'T were fit thou shouldst be taught to lull ‘ I'th'Belly of some brazen Bull. ‘ Put Fire and Anvil to thy Steel , ‘ To try if thou hast sense to feel . ‘ I wrong the Sex , in Woman kind , ‘ It may be a good chance to find ‘ A Creature , that can act , and see ‘ With dry Eyes , such a Tragedy , ‘ Which dire Erynnis would be shy ‘ To view , and turn her head awry . ‘ Nay , every twining Snake would hiss , ‘ At such a base Revenge , as this . ‘ The Furies are no ●unies ; No , ‘ There is a Fury that I know ; ‘ I mean my self , for Cruelty ‘ Surpassing far the Sisters Three . ‘ The Panae too , are very fair ‘ In their Conditions , they will spare ‘ A half-worn Thred of Life , and spin ‘ It strong over again . ‘ But take a bewitching Nurse ▪ ‘ ( That Name can't pass without a Curse . ) ‘ I say , She , when she strikes , she strikes home , ‘ Death at each stroke is felt ▪ to come . ‘ It was the Tyrants Order , to strike so , ‘ As to feel Death at every Blow . ‘ Romes Firebrand , Nero , all compos'd ▪ ‘ Of Blood and Mud , was so dispos'd : ‘ In his own person , he set Knife , ‘ To rip the curst Womb that gave him life . ‘ So Sagan can Spectatrix be , ‘ And Actrix of her Butchery . ‘ What my Tongue pleases to command , ‘ I 'le strait perform with Bloody-hand . ‘ But why spend I my Spirits to express ‘ The Mirror of a Murderess . ‘ In brief , I am , and I am all ‘ That I can Damn'd or Cruel call , ‘ I speak all this , while of my Self , ‘ Not as I 'm a Woman , but as I 'm an Elf. ‘ What think ye of those , that t●ke Leaps ‘ From Rocks Tarpe●an , or Gemonian Steps ? ‘ Rowl in Barrels stuck with Spikes , ‘ Stak'd on Crosses , Gall'd with Stripes ; ‘ Clos'd in a Trough , save Head and Feet , ‘ Cram'd with most luscious Drink and Meat ; ‘ Dawb'd with Honey , blown with Flies , ‘ Eat up alive with Worms and Lice . ‘ Broyl'd on Gridirons , Fryed in Pans , ‘ Prest with Weights , and choak'd with Bands . ‘ Degraded , forfeited of Lands , ‘ Sear'd with hot burning Brands . ‘ Flesh torn with Pincers , rac'd with Hooks , ‘ On Dunghills rot , pickt up by Rooks. ‘ Draughts of Lead pour'd down their Throats , ‘ Open Pipes for dying Notes . ‘ In Ashes and Cynders rak't , ‘ Bray'd in Mortars , in Ovens bak't . ‘ Ugly , nasty , felonious Brungeons , ‘ Kennel'd in dark Holes and Dungeons . ‘ Drawn forth one by one , by Lot , ‘ 'Till all by Judgment go to Pot. ‘ Sowst in Pickle , froz'n with Ice , ‘ Eaten up with Vermin , Rats and Mice . ‘ Joynts rackt and crackt upon a Wheel , ‘ Battered with Bars of Steel , ‘ A torturing , lingring Death shall feel . ‘ A poyson'd Needle , from Steel-Bow , ‘ Pricks you , whence you cannot know , ‘ Nor how you receive your fatal Blow . ‘ A glance from a bewitching Eye , ‘ From Arteries to Heart shall fly . ‘ A Glove , a Saddle , or Cloth , ‘ Or a dram slipt into Broth , ‘ An Odor , or perfum'd breath , ‘ Shall occasion your death . ‘ We learn from the Moor and Jew , ‘ Ingredients the World never knew . ‘ All of them exactly true , ‘ To give every one his due .

CANTO X. ‘ There was but lately sent from Hell , ‘ A Scroll , containing such a Spell , ‘ As rarely did Epitomize ‘ What e're Pluto's Wit could devise . ‘ With that a Shirt of Lawn , dy'd red , ‘ And all over Charactered . ‘ It was a Present from a Fiend , ‘ Sent up to me , as a True Friend . ‘ Th' inchanted Clout was for a Boy , ‘ A Shirt to wear a Prety Toy . ‘ Nessus his Shirt was such which caus'd the Wo , ‘ Which Hercules did undergo . ‘ Upon this in the dead of Night , ‘ Most solemnly I did Recite ‘ The Magick Spell , with whisp'ring Voice , ‘ Seconded with so fierce a Noise , ‘ As if the just then tottering World , ‘ To its first Chaos had been hurl'd . ‘ As if the Elements together russel'd , ‘ To their first Matter had been jussl'd . ‘ Then with an Ointment I bespread ‘ The Fatal Cloth , and moistened ‘ The same with a Heart-scorching Oil , ‘ Mumbling and Mutt'ring all the while . ‘ After this dire Conjuration , ‘ These Magick Drugs eftsoon began ‘ To shew their strength ; the Wretch shall feel ‘ In his heart , like hot burning Steel . ‘ When it clings close 'bout him , it shall Sear ‘ To th' Bone the broiled Flesh all rear . ‘ Forthwith I bath it with tart Wine , ‘ Suppling it now and then with Brine . ‘ Sowst in this Pickle , poor Wights lay ‘ Soaking many a live-long Day . ‘ With leaden Wings then Time shall fly , ‘ And seeming , the Worlds glorious Eye ‘ Stand stone-still , staring , and loytered ‘ His Journey t'wards his Western-Bed . ‘ Sol's Royal Sister does display , ‘ A tedious Night prolonging Ray. ‘ And sporting in Conjunction , ‘ With some more lusty Planet , run ‘ Beyond her wonted bounds of Night , ‘ Encroaching on her Brothers Right . ‘ Then give a Drink that does restore ‘ The Flesh as perfect , as before . ‘ An Icy Jul●p , I dare reveal , ‘ Shall make the boyling Blood congeal . ‘ Thus adverse Tortures both meet , ‘ The last of Cold , the first of Heat . ‘ When Children are by me Accurst , ‘ Distracted , and ready to burst . ‘ They stretch their Throats with wo●ul crying , ‘ While in their Cradles they lye dying , ‘ And could they , thus they would have spake , ‘ Mother , do not make our Hearts ake . ‘ Dearest Mother , pray forbear , ‘ Be , O be mov'd with this one Tear . ‘ This brinish Tear , that trickling-streams ‘ About our Rosy-Cheeks ; these Beams ‘ That from our blubb'ring Eye-balls dart , ‘ O let them pierce thy very Heart ; ‘ Or it into Compassion melt , ‘ Let it suffice what we have felt . ‘ O spare our Lives , we humbly crave , ‘ And make us every one your Slave . ‘ We cannot speak , our Looks they plead , ‘ Good sweet Nurse , do not make us bleed . ‘ List to the language of our Eyn , ‘ See how our hands express our Mind . ‘ Our looks beg thus , and not our Tongue , ‘ Then do not poor dumb Infants wrong . ‘ Did y' ever hear a Captive Slave , ‘ More earnestly for Freedom crave . ‘ And that he might but see the Light , ‘ Once more , before Deaths endless Night ‘ Approach , that the Dungeon Cave ‘ Might not , alas , be made his Grave . ‘ Or have you heard poor Pris'ners yawl ‘ At Passengers , with lowder Call , ‘ To force their Charity ; or sing ‘ A New-Gate sadder Tone ; or ring ‘ Their Shackles , with a noise more shrill ‘ Than these poor Creatures will . ‘ All to no purpose , all in vain , ‘ I 'le make them have more cause t'complain . ‘ They strive and cry , all does no good , ‘ The Horse-Leech longs to suck more Blood . ‘ Alas , no Mercy , I forgo it , ‘ Compassion , I , I never show it , ‘ I care not , if all the World know it . ‘ O were we banish'd out from Men , ‘ Thrust into a Wolf or Tygers Den ; ‘ We should find more Mercy sure , ‘ And lesser Torments endure . ‘ 'T is Death we every moment fear , ‘ No comfort is to be found here : ‘ Yet Death denying still to come , ‘ We are still cheated by its Ludibrium . ‘ But is this all ? No , nor the thousand part ‘ Of what I could repeat ▪ by roat of heart . ‘ In Graves , and ev'ry Charnel Hall , ‘ Was our delight , and ever shall . ‘ But , Oh I faint , I 'm out of breath , ‘ If I go on , I meet with Death . ‘ My strength now will not bear it , ‘ Nor your Patience , to hear it . ‘ My Lords o're all the World admir'd , ‘ To serve you we shall be re-inspir'd . ‘ Now you may make a full Report ‘ Of Witchcrafts , to the Infernal Court , ‘ To whom my Duty ; Fare ye well , ‘ I hope to meet you all in Hell . Dix● . Canidia ▪ ‘ Thanks Sister , for your pains due to you , ‘ Satisfecisti Officio Tuo . ‘ Now , my Lords , I as President , ‘ By my Authority , not Complement , ‘ Dissolve this Council : Go your ways , ‘ We shall study all your Praise . ‘ But bare Words shall not suffice , ‘ We 'l fit you with a Sacrifice . ‘ We have exchang'd a Noble Boy , ‘ Left in his room an Ideot Toy ; ‘ Him we devote , by Instigation , ‘ For a Magick Propitiation . ‘ And when you are all fixt in Hell , ‘ This Odor from our Altars you shall smell . Dixi. ‘ So , now they 're gone , and I ha' done , ‘ For this Job , my Web is spun . ‘ Sisters , my Charge to you is , When enrag'd ‘ For deep Revenge , you stand engag'd . ‘ You have your Commissions , you know , ‘ From the Illustrious States below : ‘ And because they are at large , ‘ I give you this special Charge . ‘ You know my mind , Go strip the Lad , ‘ Whom you in safe Custody have had . ‘ Dig a Hole in the ground , put him in , ‘ Bury him close up to the Chin. ‘ Regard not his Cries nor Tears , ‘ For fear you should stop close your Ears . ‘ That you may do him the utmost spight , ‘ Set Delicacies in his sight ; ‘ Let him smell , not taste , pine day and night . ‘ When all 's consum'd to Skin and Bone , ‘ Favour him not to dye alone . ‘ Take him up alive , and roast the Brat , ‘ As you would do a Dog or Cat : ‘ But save his Liver , Lungs and Heart , ‘ Keep them safe in an Vrn apart , ‘ Beat them to Powder , serve them up ‘ In a Lovers Spiced Cup. ‘ Burn the Carkass , for a Perfume ‘ To Proserpina's Dining-Room . ‘ So I dismiss you , I am tyr'd , ‘ As a Hackney in a Bog bemir'd . ‘ Get you gone you Mischievous Jades , ‘ Go , keep your Shops , and follow your Trades .

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY . The Fifth Part.

By R. D.

LONDON , Printed in the Year , 1683.

CANIDIA , OR The Witches . A RHAPSODY .

THE PROLOGUE . THO I have hunted variety of Game , My brave Brown Mare is neither Tyr'd nor Lame . One fresh Prey , I keep in my Eye , At which I long a Veny to Try . Huntsman make ready , So ho , So ho , Have at all Boys , t'other Turn we must go . Every Reader that is my Friend , I 'le be glad of his Company to the Worlds End .

THE WITCHES . CANTO I. 'T IS said , We Spirits can Command , But I better things understand ; This can ne're be done fairly by Book or by Wand . The Character'd Circle no Spirits may enter , Yet a poor Mouse will dare to venture , And a Cat after her into the Center . The Spirits will come and go , let 'um take their Course , But by Agreement , not by force . Let the Conjurer take it , for better for worse , The grey Mare shall prove the better Horse . Get up and ride upon the Devils back , And he 'l furnish you with what you lack . You think to make him a Jade and an Ass , To tell you all that shall come to pass . But when your Time allow'd is past , He 'l be too cunning for you at last . The Devil 's too wise and strong to be hag'd , Or by violence to be drag'd . If it be to destroy Mankind , You shall him always ready find . There needs no forcing in the case , For he was always freely Base . See the proud Conjuring Fool , Mounts upon the footed Stool , With his holy Wand and Book ; How like an Ass he does look ? To catch the Devil by Hook or by Crook , And all the Devils overlook . A Cross he brings , and rare Perfume , To drive the stink out of the Room . Why , 't is but Reason , for who can tell , But Fiends may bring a stink from Hell ? Sweet Odors therefore please 'um well . Then , and there he makes Demand Of Destinies , by Sea and Land . What Fortune shall accrue to States ? Of private Men , what is their Fates ? How Voyages by Sea shall speed ? Who in a Family shall bleed ? Their Answers are the Conjurer's Creed . What Matches and Bargains shall thrive ? Who to kill , or save alive ? Who shall in War or Peace do harm ? Where the Fiends and Witches swarm ? For these Responds the Devil is willing , By which I'v● got many a Shilling . Better than to be Washer or Nurse , Such poor Trades won't fill the Purse ; Yet they procure many a Curse ▪ When all are pumpt dry , he sends 'um packing , 'Till new Oracles are lacking . These are the subtle Arts we drive , Yet by them we never thrive . But this is Fine , this is a Rarity , With Spirits to have Familiarity . By this means , we all Secrets find , Both future , and time out of Mind . Apollo could do no such Feats , All his Oracles were Cheats . They did never resolve such Cases , As we that come into their Embraces . We must needs Devils understand , That get'um , nurse'um , and bring 'um up to hand . Therefore by this Black Art , Deep Mysteries they do impart : But to none they will disclose 'um , But to Friends that lye in their Bosom . Which to Mortals we Report , Where Learned Magi come short . Upon this we make our Brags , Tho counted all damn'd ugly Hags . The wisest Dons follow our Flags , Tho we be all cloth'd in Rags . They haunt us , call us Rogues and Whores , Yet dance Attendance at our Doors . We 're well acquainted with the Moors , To open the rich Indian Stores . We are great Friends to the King of Spain , In America to find out Gain . For this of us the World does complain , To engross every Gold and Silver Vein . That Gems and Pearls lodg'd in the Deep , Unto our Shore should slily Creep . But we shall never get all their good will , Tho we should all their Treasures fill , 'Cause now and then we some Blood spill . But that for us all would be poor , Therefore they haunt us more and more , And we Chowce them o're and o're . We perplex their Mirth and Chear , Full oft their Gold costs 'um dear ; Then at the Slaves we flout and jeer . Who first holp the Portugueses , To sayl as far as the Chineses ? Who to Columbas and Vespusies , Prompted to ope the Worlds Recluses ? Who the North-west-Passage discovered ? Or the lost Mountains of the Moon recovered ? How Alps and Tenariff the Clouds break , At the Devils Arse of Peak , Where the Devils play such Reaks ? You must stay 'till the Oracle speaks . Where the vast Oceans through doth Leak ? All these Lyes my Heart can't break , No more than Aristotle's Enteleche . All this comes from a Woman weak , Half so much would make a Cat speak . In Stangat-Hole , or the Devils Ditch , Lyes buried many a cursed Witch . I faint , I beg your pardon for the Stich , I 'm forc't to sit upon my Britch . I 'm troubled with the Itch , I mean In my fingers ends , that are never clean . Yet I ▪ wash Dishes and lick Trenchers , Hug close and kiss among the Wenchers , And quaff among the Sack-Possit Drenchers . When I 'm troubled with more Fits , I must have a Bout with some ugly Chits , That crawl , and bawl about me , at my Diet , For Scratching and Tearing I can ne're be at quiet . I am resolv'd , before I squat , To shew 'um a Trick , by laying them flat , And play with 'um Tit for Tat. None can handle 'um , they shall see , Without Mittins too , like me . I intend to erect no Schemes , Nor practise Philosophick Themes . Nor invent Platonick Dreams , Nor drown 'um in Stygian Streams ; But poyson 'um up with deadly Steams . That 's the quickest closest Trick , To kill them down right , before they be sick . I 'le go a new way to work , Diverse from Scythian or Turk , I 'le walk in unknown paths , and glide Softly , unseen , o're the World so wide . Conquering , Levelling , all along , Wise and Fools , Rich and Poor , Weak and Strong . When I resolve to go to play , Nothing shall stand in my way . You l say , Whence have I this Power and Skill , Thus to say and do what I will ? I say , 'T is all without Book , And for it , for me , you may go look . I have had Masters and Tutors , That have been no less than Hells Prolocutors . Those are all my Co-adjutors , The rest are no more than Cobling Sutors . I have had Husbands with Honesty bedeckt , Cuckolds , and damnably Hen-peckt : As for Devils , one , two and three , All of them serve for Stallions to me . So well do Witches and Devils agree , If you won't believe , Come and See . Broods of young Cubs , wrapt up in Cotton , By Incubs and Succubs are daily begotten . Mubs , Asinego 's , and African Monsters , Slyva's , Fawns , and Satyrical Youngsters : They be ugly dull Clowns ; We are fairer , and wittier than Gowns , For which we have the Lawyers Frowns .

CANTO II. A Poor man's Suit you must deny , With a Rich man's Request comply ; Visit him at his sick Bed , Pray for him , and wish him dead . Send daily to know how he does do , H●ping he will ne're come too ; After the Messenger throw an old Shoe . By all means you must be civil , And hold a Candle to the Devil . Complement him while he has breath , And Caress him after Death . Carry the Pall , and wear the Black , And privately , for Joy , drink Sack , The veriest Knave in all the Pack . Entertain the Man you hate , If he be great , do it in State ; Always keep a proud Gate . But the Woman , you must know , Must be brought unto your Bow , Just as I us'd to be , With a Female Charity . The best thing a Man can give , Is to please a Woman while you live . She 'l accept it from a Flale , In Fee-Simple , or Fee-Tail . For a Voyage set Sayl , Honest men never fail . O this Rare obliging Sect , Like the Suns Beams on all Reflect . A Dunghil they will not neglect , To Dirty Whores give your respect . Annyseed-Robin , or Pudding-Pye-Doll , You have them all in your Scroll . He that bears a Flattering Face , Obliges all the Populace . These are the Men that prosper fair , Command in the Saddle , and Rule in the Chair . If you wont stoop to his strain , On the Dunghill complain . The Coast was clear , the World shew'd you the way , If you won't follow , behind for ever stay . Slaves in the World must be kept low , On their Dunghils the Cocks crow . But Flatterers wisely Aspire , Like Eagles , bravely to mount higher . Fools are content to be honest and poor , Slaves to every rich Rogue and Whore : For want of a few broad Cheats and Lyes , The honest Ass pines and dyes . Is it not better to be rich and brave , ( Tho a Man be , and be counted a Knave , ) Than to be ragged , torn , and true , And never rise to get his Due ? They that won't the way of the World go , Must resolve to be crusht and kept low , All Affronts and Wrongs undergo : And 't is well if they can 'scape so , Sometimes they 're hang'd for 't , I 'le tell you but so . I know not what I lack , tho I e're had a brazen-Face , Yet I could never endure to be base : For I came of a more generous Race . A Noble Tyrant I never knew , But scorn'd to flatter the ignoble Crew , And for this give the Devil his due . He is always a brave Fellow , That loves a brisk Bowl , and will sometimes be Mellow . It is of Baseness , the lowest degree , To court the Rabble by Flattery . Like the Spaniel and the Fox , Of all Knaves they most deserve the Stocks . Or the Whip rather , and the Strap , 'Till the Pox at last gives them a Clap. Any thing for such Mongrel Curs , That pretend Conscience Demurs . And dare not by Falshood make Friends , To compass all unlawful Ends. We sit at good Cheer , and warm Fires , Enjoy all our Lust requires ; And laugh at honest hungry Fryars , That durst not bring about their Desires , For fear of being counted Knaves and Lyars , Or , if you please , Spirit Tryars . Let 'um starve if they will , for my Part , I count my self a man of Art , When by base means I get the start . As for tender Consciences , tho by Birth And Learning , of Infinite worth . To their wilful Wills I leave 'um , They need no Witches to deceive 'um . If these Rare men want Meat , Drink , and Clothing , As this World goes , I wonder at Nothing . They may thank their Honesty , if they be no Richer , They may thank their Folly , if they carry the Pitcher . Away with these dull Erra Paters , Their highest Preferment ●s to be Translators . So the World 's well govern'd , as Matters do stand , When Knaves and Fools get all the Land , I shall ne're get so much by my Conjuring Wand . The false Obliger , I shall ever know For a Rascal , as he is , and so let him go . 'T is he , at long run , shall feel the Wo , And ne're know who 't is gives him his Deaths blow . The Slave gets into every Dress , Is ready , and yare , in every Mess. He is always hatching Eggs , Throw him ev'ry way , he falls like a Cat , on his Legs . In Musick he screws up all the Pegs , The Slave seldom or never begs . A Pox upon him , for a Dog Rogue , He does so palpably Collogue , That he carries away all the Vogue . Of Obliging all , the true Constitution , Is the Conscience Prostitution , Without any least Diminution made ; This must needs be a Devilish Trade . To please great Men , and for Preferments sake , Any thing of such you may make ; Of such Knaves your choice you may take . Any Promise , Vow or Oath , Upon occasion break your Troth . To spare none be loth , All Equity is but Froth . See you there an honest Man , Strive to undo him , all you can . Such an one did but steal a Cow , Who look't o're the Hedge ? Such a Rogue as you . Hang ye , Dam ye , cursed Dog , You leapt over a Frog , To take him that stole but a Hog . And now you 're fallen into a Bog , You deserve a Chain and Clog . Where there 's gain or honour coming , Thither in haste ye must be running ; We know this is all your cunning . Haunt their Ghosts , coming and going , Be importunately Woing , Tho it be to manys Undoing . There 's no State , Warlike or Civil , But many sometimes lack help of the Devil . Ri●le the Living , Ransack the Dead , A good Conscience is fled . Rather than not to have your ends sped , Leap over another Mans head . Then , if you can , quietly sleep in your Bed , This it is to be well Bred. Your Bed is strown with Lillies and Roses , Your Table furnished with Quelque Choses . Rail lustily at a Thief that 's poor , Because like a Rogue he got behind the door : Or at him that got a Whore ; Or a Drunkard that had not paid his Score , Tho he ne're did so since or before . You may ravish an Estate From Orphans and Widows , it is a good Bait , They were born to be poor by Fate . He that is under a Threepeny Planet born To be a Cuckold , must wear a Horn ; If by a Lord , let him not take it in scorn . Such a Slave must have no Entry , To climb up into the Gentry . T is enough for a poor Rogue to live , To the Rich , you can't too much give . He may help you at a dead Lift , Season him well with a woundy good Gift , And he may leave you for your self to shift . And yet say , 't was well bestown , To greaze a fat Sow , overgrown , Tho your Cause be overthrown . For a poor Rogue to aspire , Does he think to be a Squire ? Lay him over the Fire , Give him a Toss let him ne're grow higher . The way of the World I don't admire , To hinder an honest Desire . Poor Rogues must not look for their due , 'T is in vain for them to Sue . Send 'um packing among the Crew , Starve him , beat him black and blew . If he but offer to stand in your way , Take all he has , make him a Prey . Send him packing to the Gang , The Poor are fit for nothing , but to hang. Stand not upon Terms of Charity , Such a Cockscomb is a Rarity ; Levellers aim at a Parity . Charity and Justice begin at home , For an honest Man there can be no room , Let him not speak a word , for 't is his Doom . Have a care of your self , or ye deserve to be sham'd , The Rich care not if you be all hang'd and damn'd . What , tell a Rich man of his Fault ? He 'l not leave you worth a Groat . You 're a Rogue all to Nought , 'T is a sign you 're better fed than taught . Not a word for your life , the Truth must not be spoke , The Weight's fell down , because the Jack Line broke . Now this is your Obliging man , That will do for you all he can : He means for his own gain , 'T is a folly to complain . If you will , he 'l put you out of pain , At last come upon you fresh again . But if a poor Rogue he find you , Then be sure he never minds you , Turns you going with your hands behind you . You that wou'd act the Dissemblers part , Must make use of the Black Art ; But let not your Conscience start . You may put on a Disguise , And make a shew of Sacrifice , To hide all your Rogueries : And wink with both Eyes ; To shed Tears is Woman-wise . He 's not a Man now-a-days , That can't put on a brazen-Face . Be bold my Boy , be bold , there 's all good feeding , Shrink not , when it comes to bleeding . To get your Ends make all the way , Put by all Rubs without stop or stay , All the poor Rogues are run away . The honest Fool is Tender-hearted , For which he deserves to be Carted . I have seen a Fool play fast and loose , That was not able to say Boh to a Goose . A Petty-Fogger's a great Possessor , Or a Dupondio Professor , More than a famous Antecessor . A dull Mountebank ▪ or Quack , Wealthy Patients never lack . To deal in mens precious Lives , for Gains , He 's a sawcy Jack for his pains . You say , I 'm a bare Brazen-face-Witch , Because with my Work I go through stich . I know and believe all Truth in my Mind , But I never lov'd to practise it in kind . I have seen a Clouted-Shun , Through thick and thin run , 'Till he hath many a Man undone . He shall haunt ye Westminster-Hall , With his Black-Box before'um all . Such a freez Thred-bare Coat , Shall leave you not worth a Groat . He sneaks , like a simple Jack , Try him , he 's Mettle to the Back . He shall in Term time leave the Plow , To sue for a Horse or a Cow , Turn up her Tail , and her Arse kiss you . Shun him , for he 's a more dangerous Knave , Than they that look big and go brave . He shall turn ye East , West , North and South , You 'd think Butter wou'd not melt in his Mouth . His property is never to give out , For grubbing and rubbing he has a Hog's Snout . This Freez-Coat , this Clouted-Shun , As very a Knave as is under the Sun . The Calling's Honest , but the Slaves Plow up honest mens Graves . At this my Satyr Frets and Raves , They follow him , with Clubs and Staves . But 't is the sharp and false Pen , That undoes all sorts of Men. ‘ Therefore I have thus laid about , ‘ Labouring to reform the Rout , ‘ 'Till by o're heating , I 've got the Gout . Take a handsom Shee-Solliciter , She shall oblige Multipliciter . She 's an admirable Visiter , You may send her to my Lord Inquisitor . She bewitches with her Looks , Men that use to write in Books . And with a Silver-Tongue besides , Every amarous Fop Rides . She constantly keeps her Tides , From Westminster-Hall to St. Brides . Bring her to a Lawyers Bar , She opens the Case for Peace or War . If by her Tears she melt your Heart , Take her and comfort her apart . She has all her Lesson perfectly by Heart , As very a Whore as e're rode in a Cart. Nothing like her is so smart , I 'le warrant your Cause shall never start , If she but offers to plead her Part. Take a graceful comly Wench , She shall dazle all the Bench ; 'T is better than our giving a Drench . A fair-Face under a Love-black-Hood , Your Cause for her sake must be good . Her amiable looks shall win ye , Better than many a golden Guiny ; Use her well , 't is pretty Jenny . A Lawyers Heart shall quickly melt , After he has her Pulse felt ; But he must be no Eunuch Gelt . What a sly subtil Witch am I , Such new fashion Witchcrafts to spy : Which no honest Body can deny , If they will but venture to try ? When the World comes once to hear it , They 'l ne're be able to bear it . Go on brisk , and never fear it , Win it , brave Lads , and wear it ; To be sure the Cause will bear it . I may lye a Bed till Noon , You 'd as good throw your Caps at the Moon . The Dog-Star at the Moon does Bark . You have got Venus in the Dark . The roguing Cur smells something , Hark , He finds you are a very Shark . A Blood-Hound will ne're leave hunting ; A fat Hog will ne're leave grunting . You may be sure , all is not right , When Rogues run abroad to steal in the Night . When drunken Sots make troublesom Stirs , This causes the Barking of the Curs , Even amongst them that wear Furs . All 's not well , when we ring so many a Knell , Where can we in safety dwell ? The World is the worser Hell , You understand this very well , I nothing but the Truth tell . The Blood-Hounds have a very strong smell , And I like my Humor well . I do 't to find out Rogues and Whores , That turn all Honesty out a doors , Not sparing Rich or Poors . I 've lost my Wits with turning and winding , Knaves and Fools in all places finding , Never Honest Folk minding . Nothing I say , or do , is binding , I shall have a time to leave off grinding . These are your Obliging-Men , That turn about 'fore and aft , too and agen . There 's nothing but Knavish shufflling , Snearing , Toping , Ranting and Scuffling . I heard one complain , Sir , Where shall I find A Man that has an honest Mind ? I clapt him o' th' Back , and said , Be of good Cheer , If you will , you may find an honest Man here . In your own Clothes , 't is your own fault . If you don 't , you need not be naught , I am sure you 're better Taught . Let Honesty be ne're so much out of fashion , 'T is better than Interest or Obligation . You never heard me talk at this rate , The Devil rebukes Sin , it seems , but of late ; 'T is sure , by some Destiny , or Fate . The Pot the Kettle black Arse calls , The Hypocrite stands , rises or falls . ‘ As bad as I am , I am for Truth pure and neat , ‘ Or any thing that will do the Feat . ‘ Cross Rascals make me all in a Sweat , ‘ Give me something to drink and eat ▪ ‘ I hate to see Religion sold by the Great . ‘ My Spirits , I think , are ready to fail , ‘ To see so many Lyes sold by Retail . ‘ I labour against it Tooth and Nail , ‘ By this Rule Knaves will never fail : ‘ And then I resolve for some other Land to set Sail , ‘ But whereever I am , ne're to turn Tail . ‘ I 'm forc't to be tedious more and more , ‘ Because I see of Falshood greater store . ‘ How I can hold out , if you ask , ‘ I say , none but a Witch can perform this Task , ‘ ( I wont be known , lend me my Mask . ) ‘ And still a Witch is more than their Match , ‘ Let 'um lock to themselves , Harm watch , Harm catch . ‘ I 'm sure , I 'm quite condemn'd by the Letter , ‘ Because I do worse , and know better . ‘ And besides , I do mischief my self , ‘ More than an ordinary Elf. ‘ I never lov'd to halt before a Cripple , ‘ To kill , not cheat the Common People . ‘ Nor am I of the Priest's Trade . ‘ To ride the Hackny Vulgar to a Jade . You may find of Knaves good store , If you go down to Gravesend or the Buoy in the Nore . And if you 'l further launch out to the Main , You l see Pirates and Pickeroons ransack for Gain . From Dunkirk , Algier , Tripoly and Sallies , To furnish Slaves to run in the Gallies . I find there 's another great Flaw , Necessity has no Law . Necessity , I say , not forc't , but made , Is now become a most damnable Trade . It hides all Villany from Whelps , That never could invent better Helps . A Complement's one thing , Necessity 's another , With both these Cloaks they 'l cozen their Brother , And plead , 't is lawful to undo each other . They could not help 't , they must comply ; I beg your Pardon , I tell you no Lye , I was forc't to yield to Necessity . So they Baffle among the Throng , Cheating and Lying for a Song . In case of Compliance , Correspondence I love . In case of Necessity , my Valour I prove . Mystical Rites , Priests keep close to themselves , And send the Laity to be taught by Elves . Oracles , and Sybills Books , are conceal'd , Because all Truth , forsooth , must not be reveal'd . Prophecies and Miracles , are most of 'um Cheats , Pretended by them that would seem to do Feats . Constantinople , Turks call the Red Apple , And for it Christians shall one day grapple : Let Naples , as well , be call'd , the Horse Dapple , The Homage of Spain , led to the Pope's Chappel , My Flying-Horse Pegasus , lacks a Snaffle . Omnia Gladii Pedissequa , It makes all Cowards run away .

CANTO III. An old Ape has an old Eye , Cheat all you can come nigh , Do it under the Canopy . Say nothing to the Standers by , They 'l make a fearful Outcry . Slip aside the Rout among , 'T is clear gains , if you can hold your Tongue . Let 'um call you Rogue and Knave , So you but the Profit have . Laugh at them that call you Fools , For suffering you to work with their Tools , And for it hiss 'um out of the Schools . Quod defertur , non aufertur , is a very good Clench , Claim Possession a thousand year hence , And from that time a Fool Commence . Abanadaba curat Febrim , Starve no Cause , Pone Legem . Every day , Pro Hic & Nunc , Now and anon too , You may have a Punk ; If you want Cash , your Cause is sunk . In formâ Pauperis your Suit commence , I 'le warrant you the Day , a Thousand year hence . O sweet Civility , thou' rt a meer Saint , A pure Beauty does never Paint . Alas , alas , we must be Civil , Tho we go all to the Devil . We cou'd not help it , I , nor No , Our Masters wou'd have it so . ‘ With the World I 'm well acquainted , ‘ With all Vice , in my time , I 've been tainted . ‘ I have been as good as ever twang'd , ‘ I have seen many an honester Body hang'd . Steal , Rogue and Whore , in the way of Civility , Flatter and Lye in the way of Gentility . Kill all Nations in point of Honour , Be as bloody as Bishop Bonner . In a mad Mood kill all you meet , Or take the Wall in the Street . I 'le tell you a Trick , if you have been to blame , And find it hard to cover the shame , Feast and Caress in the Devils Name . Be sure put on a Brazen Face , And speak Big to the Man with a Mace . Court all you can the Populace , This will cover your Disgrace . He 's a brave Man to the Poor and Rich , But he 's hated worse than a Witch . They 'l taste of his Cup , and lick in his Dish , And jeer him as much as his heart cou'd wish . But this is a way to hide for a Time , The Malignity of any Crime , 'Till you come to your Prime . Do some kindness to some poor Boys , This will stop some part of the Noise . They that you have took by the Teeth well , Won't stick to proclaim you a Fool and a Rake-hell . They that to do honesty dare be able , Will scorn to sit down at your counterfeit Table , Or set their Horses in your Stable . A wise Man will certainly try him , And an honest Man will never come nigh him , And a Man of Courage will defie him . Let 'um keep company with their own Scholars , Like to like , quoth the Devil to the Colliers . ‘ I 'm got into a strange Vein , ‘ You see I have a working Brain , ‘ And how shall I get out of this strain . ‘ I have laboured a long Time , ‘ To leave this way of Vulgar Rhime . ‘ I am so crowed among the Rout , ‘ I must sweat before I can get out : ‘ And then I shall have another Bout , ‘ But still I 'm resolv'd to be stout . Courtesy , Kindness , Civility , Ingredients to make up Gentility . But to Cozen , Lye and Flatter , ‘ Makes all the Teeth of my Head chatter ; ‘ What if I 've none , that 's no matter . Ladies virtuous and fair , Of Counterfeits have a care . They are of a Dissembling Hue , Yet you may distinguish the False from the True . Great Ones flatter one another , Every Interested Brother . By mean Men they must be courted , They love to hear all Lyes reported . Prefer that to be the best , Which makes for Private Interest . Have a care to fill up your Chest , That is , to feather your Nest . There is a Grand Devil , that flyes Round about all the World in a Disguise 'T is Beelzebub , the God of Flies , Purposely to dazle Mens Eyes . Puts a Mask of Virtue upon Vice , And circumvents you in a Trice . A perfect Crocadile , A Cockatrice to beguile . A glass-Eye , and a Silver-Tongue , Fair and foul , old and young ; Above all take heed of a False Tongue . I dare not own my Friend , if I know , He has a Great Man for his Foe . I dare not say , I , or No , I dare neither stop nor go . ‘ Rogues , I 'le make you all whist , ‘ And stand still , tho you 're all to be pist , ‘ I 'le do with you what I list . ‘ Rogues , I have ye all at Command , ‘ If I do but wink , or wag my hand . ‘ I 'le make you tremble , if I Nod , ‘ Down on your knees , if I shake my Rod. He that complies against his will in Evil , Goes down Hill more and more to the Devil . After he has lost the right way , He finds he can neither stop nor stay . No matter for a Conscience Biter , Per scelera ad scelus tutum est Iter. He that like a Fool shall say he 's frail , Deserves to be tied to the Devil's Tail . If his Boat to ●ail be slow , The Devils may give him a Tow. 'T is a favour he does use to bestow , And then you know whither ye must go . But what if the Devil pronounces a Curse ? Stand , says the Thief , deliver your Purse , Send him to Proserpine to Nurse . He that 's clothed in Scarlet and Silk , Shall suck a Witches or the Devils best Milk . He and We , like Doves , shall be Billing , That does bad , when to do good he is willing . For this I 'le help him to many a Shilling , And Pounds too , if it comes once to killing . There will be old hugging , At last it may come to tugging . ‘ I 'le give him many a golden Wedge , ‘ To set his greedy Tooth on edge . ‘ And after all , I 'le be his Pledge , ‘ And leave him to starve under an Hedge . Out of a Dunghill gain smells well , Scum the Devil and rake Hell , When your Conscience you sell . Sup it up , 't is very good Broth , Infuse a Lye , or a damnable Oath , Such as to taste Old Nick wou'd be loth . As Good eat the Divel as his Broth , 'T is scalding hot by my Troth . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 in their dogged dumps , Often put us to our Trumps . But we return them as many Frumps , And sett close upon all their Rumps . Logarithus , Algebra , Cossa Frighted Frederick Barbarossa . Systole and Diastole ( put a good face on ) Strike like a double Diapason . Find me a Green for my Goose to graze on . If a Knave , of some small good by chance , be an Actor , He 's cry'd up , by Fools , for a great Benefactor . He 's forc'd to choose best , and leave the worse . For which he 's branded with no less curse . Trust him not twice , for once well doing , A Suiter's forc'd to go oft a Woing , And perhaps to his own undoing . After many repulses are past , 'T is hazard if he speed not at last , Who dares build upon the Lord's Waste ? He 's ever charitably kind , To the man that 's going down the wind . The meaning is , when all is set down , To turn him out of house and home . He feeds the Spendthrift Gallant with Coyn , The reason is , his Estate to undermine . He patches him up , in City and Town , On purpose at once to throw him down . Master Scrivener , this is your drift , To get all he has , and leave him to shift , By this way you give Debtors a Lift. He 's never counted a right honest man , That do's not , at all times , do all the good he can . The Divel somtimes is good when he 's pleas'd , He that has an Intermission , is still diseas'd . From him that ruffles in storms of Anger , In a Calm expect the greatest Danger , For still there sleeps a Dog in the Manger . The man that is rarely in a distemper , Is call'd the man of an even temper , Have a care o' th the man that is passionate semper . Night and day you must watch and ward , Continually stand upon your Guard , Plead ne're so much reason , you can't be heard , The man of good Principles , never fear him , You may oblige him and endear him : To himself and his Friend he 's always true , That gives to every one his due . The man that eats another mans Bread , Devours the Living and the Dead . That Friend will ne're keep you from sorrow , That lends Money to day , demands it to morrow . He that re-enters upon a day , Or takes a Forfeiture is a Knave , I say . Your Pawn is lost , for it is a crime , You did not exactly keep your time . To sell you the worst of my Wares I am willing , But trust , I must gain a Groat in the Shilling . I le break on purpose to compound With my Creditors , for Five Shillings in the Pound . A Soph , a Poet , or a Rhetor , Slubbers a Cause , so don't a Praetor . To colour over a rotten Post , Over a Pot and a Tost . Folly , Prejudice , Hatred , Power , Disjoynts true Reason every hour , After Extortions to scape Hell ; Build a School , creep to a Cell . When Sin has left ye , Fast and Pray , Let Creditors for ever stay . In a Goal Drink , Roar and Whore , Let Tenants be for ever poor . Give no Satisfaction , make no Restitution , To your Honours Diminution . Undo Families never cry Peccavi , till you die . Then let them their hearts out curse , But never open your Purse . No matter for Conscience or Good Name , Be sure to play your own Game . Pay nothing tho you be ne're so able , When the Steed's stoln , shut the Stable , Let your undone Creditors come to your Table . When you have got your Ends , Drunk 'em , Punk 'em , make 'em Friends . You are feasting they are pining , You are rejoycing , they are whining . Deal a dole of Bread to the Poor , when Corn's dear , And cheat them of their Means by the year . Mumble your Mattins , Jumble your Beads , When you have chopt off innocent Heads . Religon is a very good Paint . All 's well , if you can but go for a Saint . You are safe among Friars and Nuns , A Cloyster secures from all Duns . A Court a Camp will do the Feat , An ill Conscience is spruce and neat . When y' have done this , you ' r a Cock of the Game , The poor Rogues will all be tame . If they black you they are to blame , You are still a man of Fame . If you grumble in the Gizard , Ne're trouble a Witch or a Wizard . But keep on a sanctified Vizard . Reason shan't be understood In Passion , be it ne're so good . Plead Mercy and Equity , They 'l mock , 'T is all one , as to speak to a Rock . Ne're trust the man in a Frock , Ne're take a woman in her Smock . By your leave and good favour , I say , something has some savour , I won't be meal-mouth'd , the Truth to smother , Let a Bride Bring her Meat , drink and Cloth along with her , If you be a Cuckold , She 's just such another . Invite Debtors to Christmas Cheer , And then all 's discharg'd , all 's clear . Their mouths are stopt , their Clamours cease , Depopulation is call'd a very good Peace , When all your Vassals are at ease ; And the Lords may do what they please . The Indians Countrey is invaded , To live Slaves they are perswaded , So the Greeks by the Turks are Jaded . Poor conquer'd Slaves must not thrive , 'T is well if they be sav'd alive . The whole World runs upon Wheels , Every one oppression feels , But every one that feels wrong or pain , Must not be so sawcy as to complain . If he do , he 's held down by Might and Main , And gag'd by the Inquisition of Spain . Sent to the Gallies , or the Mines , If he cannot pay his Fines . I don 't like this dealing underhand , When men above board may fairly command . Get to bed to a Citizens Wife , The Husband leads a Cuckold's life . She shall enrich the Cuckold-maker , Be he Ranter or Quaker . The Merchant deals in Forreign Wares , But understands not his Home-Affairs , 'T is no part of his cares . He trusts abroad , and he trusts at Home , Rich Goods and Bastards take up Room . Alas , saies the Bawd , it was his doom , Poor man , let him hang out the Broom . If it were not so , you must understand , He should have none to inherit his Land . The Wife at home , and the Husband abroad , Both drive a subtile trade , So you may ride your Horse to a Jade . Alas , his head never akes , For all the care his Wife takes , A horned Pate sound sleep ne're breaks . 'T is ever a contented life , To be a Cuckold without strife . Fellows of Houses take the least care , When they lack , they may borrow a Townsmans Mare ; The best in the Stable to a Friend they can spare , And are beholden to them for their care . Their Pupils custom shall make them amends , So Scholars and Townsmen are very good Friends , And both serve for their own Ends. He that drinks hard , and Whores , 't is an even lay , If he don't shortly break and run away . A Mis , a Lacquay , a Countrey House , and a Coach , Are the fore-runners of a Broach . He is gone to run his Range , Proclaim'd Bankrupt upon the Change . It may be this man was a Teacher , Or a Bankrupt overeacher . The Brotherhood , while he 's in Spain , Joyn to make him whole again . This course every Sanctified Brother Takes , by compounding for one another . The Sisters will do many a Job , 'T is no Sin the Wicked to rob . The Egyptians , most odly , Are bound to enrich the Godly . All is theirs to inherit , Because they have the true Merit , And do all by the Spirit . If the Wicked be saved from Slaughter , Dub them Slaves to the Godly ever after . Weak Rogues are fit to live no longer , Then they can be drudges to the stronger . But specially the Godly Breed , Must be enriched by Prophane Seed . If an honest good Fellow break his Crupper , He may as soon behang'd as get his Supper . If a Lady of pleasure fall in two pieces , Her Gallants present her with Golden pieces . There 's Nurses and Midwifes provided ready . For She kept her reckoning steddy . Poor Whores , when old , rott and die , You need not ask the reason why . Rich Whores , when old , Stallions Maintain , The Moon lacks help when she 's in the Wain . Letchery in Fratribus & Sororibus Lippis notum est , & Tonsoribus . Mariners are Nervosum genus , For the Seas sake , Friends to Venus . With Vulcan therefore She , Like Fire and Water can't agree . The Fucus of vain Eloquence , To solid Laws gives great Offence . A Golden Tongue shivers a Cause , Baffles all Equity and Laws . When Lives and Fortunes lie at stake , It makes the Peoples hearts ake . What Brain 's left in the Judges skull , Whom the Advocate shall gull . Daunts Witnesses , like Boys , By the Horror of a thundring Noise . By the fair Tongues Froth and Foam , A Golden Plaister to a Wall of Loam . By Fraud was taken Bergen ap Soam . Bars of Gules , Azure , Or and Argent , Stab a fair Text by a foul Gloss in Margent . So the Conqueror comes off rident , As did the Pope in the Council of Trident. Mahomet is for an Armed Law , As fittest to keep the World in Aw . Justinian aim'd at Right , and Ease , The better to keep the World in Peace : But the Sword gets the Golden Fleece . Justice counts her self ne're the worse , Defended by the Sword and Purse , Of these Religion should be the Nurse . When Oratory shall be banish'd , Controversies will soon be vanish'd . This Harlot has advanced Gowns , And overwhelmed Righteous Crowns . 'T is the Tongue and the Pen , Than the Sword has kill'd more men . The Court of rare Venetian Sages , For pure Justice most engages . They scorn to stoop to Flattery or Fears , To be took by the Teeth or Ears . This Case Vegelius to them applied , For Reformation , and was not denied . Venice is no Witch , I dare swear ; for 't is said , A thousand Years she has continued a Maid . She 's plaguy cunning in all her work , To save from being ravish'd by the Turk . If I had had a thousand Maidenheads , long before I should have lost them , and found them , o're and o're , As they do , that so oft get behind the door . 'T is a cursed thing to be an old Maid , Patience upon force , and yet never decaid , The men are hard hearted , I am afraid , 'T is not for want of Will in the least , To have a good Stomach , and want a Feast . I would not wish more ill luck to a Beast , This Veniat is the Phoenix Nest . She may Well bear a Phoenix in her Crest . The Arabian Phoenix is but a Jest . I have heard it often said , Very few good Workmen of a Trade . The Vintners art , as now we see , Quere if Poysning it may not be ? A man that hath of Honour tasted , His Name is on a sudden blasted . The Tallest Cedars have the Luck , And sturdy Oakes to be Planet struck . In private Interest the Business lies , To do good to our Families . But in publick the greatest health , Is to promote the Common-Wealth , And to do nothing at all by stealth . A Publick Spirit is the Queen of all Dames , Her Subjects get everlasting Names . So a Laurel fresh and green , Burnt , Red and Withered I have seen . Schools , Hospitals , Castles , Bridges , Merit honourable Priviledges . In all these nothing but honesty's included , And all base selfishness excluded . Divels what have you to do here ? By Right you ought not to come nere , Where there 's no Wine , nor strong Beer , Nor a Bit of good Cheer . Where you come , you make all clear . Dogs run away with whole Joynts , As you do with Pottles and Pints . There 's a young Divel , Opportunity , Much acquainted with Importunity , That takes Time by the Forelock , To give his Enemy a sore knock . Not like old Time , who runs on a main , But never , like him , returns again . Cupid , the blind Archer shoots poyson'd Darts , 'T is his luck to hit the wisest Hearts ; His Bow and Quiver disturb more People , Than all the Guns above Paul's Steeple . He puts the Scholar to his Trumps , And makes him study nothing but upon Rumps , And try to dance without Pumps . Bona Terra , mala Gens , Your Question , when ever you Doctor commence . Who can deny a Prety Wench ? Sirrah , watch well your Masters Eye . Do as he does , laugh or cry , And if he bid you , live or die . In company frown or smile , As your Lord does , all the while . Parasite you may be bold , With your Master to rail or scold , For a good Dinner , hot or cold . Obligation and Compliance his mate , Never meddle with matters of State . Obligation takes too much upon her , In point of Honesty and Honour : Put Honesty and Civility together , Shake 'm and choose you whether , If of Honesty there be a Cessation , Within the Lines of Communication . 'T will breed a Conscience Vastation , Which is a Knaves Demonstration . If you can get to be Conscience proof , Steal an Ox and leave the Hoof , And believe you were honest enough ; Let no Justice come under your Roof ; But from Equity keep aloof . Too much Honesty as well as Civility , The Heralds say does extinguish Gentility . By Honesty too much invaded , Nobility and Gentry are degraded . To take heed by all means of Restitution , Is a Courtiers Constitution . Never give to a Contribution , For fear of a Purses Diminution . 'T is an Honour for the Poor to serve 'em , 'T is a Favour for the Rich to starve 'em . They that dissemble with Kings , Emperors and Ruling things . Hope to avoid all deadly Stings . Of such Parasites the World Rings . Every Rebellious Combination , Endangers no less than Damnation ; 'T was never so seen among our Occupation . Yet still , all the cry against us lies , 'T is we are the common Sacrifice . All hate 'gainst us is directed still , 'Cause we keep Folk from having their Will , And than others we have more Skill . I 'le appeal to the God of Flies , Whether we ever told so many Lyes , Only they count us for Gossips and Spies .

CANTO IV. Pensioners to Forreign States , Undo Kingdoms , more than the Fates ; That tell Lies at costly rates . They are taken for Knaves in Grain , That offer of Knaves to complain . Be content , the Song is well sung , Can't you be damn'd , and hold your Tongue ? ‘ These are to me most Musical Notes , ‘ But I long to be cutting a Throats . A Parasite loves the smell of roast Beef , Or a hot Venison Pasty in chief . He makes Post-haste through Wind and Weather , As good as e're trod upon shoe of Leather . A Trencher-Chaplain , I hate to behold , Especially if he be Learned and Old . T' endure to see him , I am not able , Before the second Course , to rise from the Table . To see him take away his Plate , And make a Leg to the company , I hate . Scrape to his Master , for his good Fare , And basely stand behind his Chair ; And beg to borrow his old blind Mare , To ride to a Countrey Fair : Master Parson , have a care , There 's a Waiting Woman sits next you , Fair , If she chance to be Coy , and you be gain-said , My Lady has a finer Chamber Maid . Court her , though She be a little demure , To win her , in time , you shall be sure . The poor Soul waits every Evening Tide , With a Warming Pan , at your Beds side ; In so doing , she takes a Pride , Hoping , one day , to be your Bride . Give her a Kiss , and a Hug , now and tan , As you are a Gentleman , She 's ever willing to lye by a man . For this kind Behaviour , You 'l get your Lords and Ladies Favour . And truly something has some Savour . You shall have her by degrees , And with her , a Vicarage of the Childrens Threes . Besides a pair of Gloves next Fair , Therefore to please her , have a care , Marry her , and you 'l please 'em to a Hair . What , if she be a little crackt , or so , To London , for a new Maiden head , let her go . Never stick at this Lock , Of being guilty of Simony , by the Smock , Marry her quickly , ne're ask what 's a Clock . 'i wont be long e're the Cradle you rock ; Go , fetch a dry Nurse , upon old Brock . My Lord , and my Lady , welcome in their Charity , To eat up your Tithe Pigs , and Geese , for a Rarity . You must always provide 'em good Cheer , Nordown Ale , or strong , stale Beer . You must Present 'em now and then , With a Cock of the Game , and a good fat Hen. At Term time , mark what I say , Coach your Patron and Matron to a Play , And wait upon 'em every day . These are Lay Patrons pitiful tricks . To eat up the poor Vicars Pigs and Chicks . But there is something more than I 'le chat , If you 'r presented to a Rectory Fat . The Young Squire Gratis you must teach , Set him next the Pulpit when you preach , Take heed of making a Breach . You must go a Coursing with your young Master , Have a care he come to no Disaster . Be with him at every Running , Wait on him while he goes a gunning , And on my Lady when She a walks Sunning . To keep in with the Servants you must be Cunning , If they ow you Money , take heed of Dunning . When your Wife lyes in , for Joy , The Lady will be Godmother to your Boy . She 'l send her many a dainty Bit , From the Oven or the Spit . All this you may do , if you have wit . Scholars , when I perceive you muddy . And melancholy in a brown Study , I 'le send you a Lass of excellent parts , Able to teach the best Master of Arts , And withall to cheer your Hearts . She shall put you all to your Trumps , And tickle you out of your Dumps . Hang the Muses , they never kiss Half so well , as young dainty Cis. Nothing can be like such a Witch , as this is , That furnishes you with the sweetest Kisses , And at your needs She never misses ; Presently leaves washing a Dishes . And makes you all drink like Fishes , To every Scholars best Wishes . She 'l furnish you with new Notions , Of the best Philosophick Motions . Metaphysical Speculations , Most Transcendent Ejaculations . Whores are Pocky , but a fair Wife , Pleases a Scholar to the life : She 's at your Service all the year Gratis , Dainty Covert , and money Satis , For so you read it of old in Fatis . When you upon Preferment pitch , Feast and Bribe the Doegna Witch , She has Patron and Patroness all at a Bay , Make sure of her , and you shall get the day . Spend all upon 'em , and when you come to lack , I 'le ingage they shall write fool on your back . To recruit all it may fall to your Lot , To marry the rich old damnable Trott . If they give you what they can't keep , Slave , you must never cringe and creep . Be commanded at every turn , If need be , you may hang and burn . Ride and run , be call'd all the Rogues and Slaves , You and your Bratts , till you come to your Graves . Can you hold basting and railing , As well as cursing without failing . Look to 't , for your Children must inherit , The Plague of their Fathers Merit . They and you shall have enough , I tell you no Lye , And when ye will , you may all hang and die , But never ask the reason why . Are you Back , Belly , and Conscience proof , Then Rogues you may come under their Roof , If not , at your peril , stand aloof . If a place of profit fall , You must not only go , and come at their Call , But for Gain play the Divel and all , The Timber is theirs , yours are the Chips , And this they call going Snips . O this Grease is an excellent Barter , For ever to have and hold your Charter , There 's a Son to put out , and a Daughter to marry , For fear both these should miscarry . Vassals all provide your Purses , Or else look for a Landlords Curses It must for certain , be your Doom , To be turn'd out of house and home . Do you not understand obliging yet , To wade through thick and thin dry and wet ? There 's a Duel to be sped , Provide your self to be knock'd o th' Head . Seconds or Thirds , by Foot or Horse , You must follow your Masters Course . Dam , Rob , Murder , Whore and Drab . Pimp and be drunk with your Master , you Scab . Defend him Rogue in every Quarrell , And see the last drop of every Barrel . If you can scape with the lick of a Cane , Instead of a Rapier , you may brag of your Gain . Be sure you thank him for every Blow , Or Pot that at your Head he shall throw . Instead of Pistol , or stab of a Dagger , A thrust or so , if he begin to swagger . Dog , be sure you thank your Master , For saving your Life , for going no faster . There are more obliging Readings , Better than Endictments or Impleadings . Respect not your Fair , Chast Wife , Whom you should love more than your Life . Prefer a Mis her far before , Tho a foul or rotten Whore . Let her be a keeper of all your Store , And turn your honest Wife out of Door , That brought you of Pounds so many a Score , I 'le be hang'd if the Misses don 't make ye all poor . Be sure never be seen with Wife or Mother , Or walk with Father , Uncle or Brother , Never regard their Good or Gain , And then y' are of the right Obliging strain . Curse , swear , dam , through Steel or Brass , Carry all before ye , or else you 're an Ass , But remember to frequent Mass , So for a Saint the Devil may pass . I hear of a Grievance every Day , Of poor Labourers , that want their pay . It makes my heart ake to hear their crying , And see for want their Children lye a dying . Masters to pay Debts take no care , Servants to ask 'em must not dare . Unjust Stewards , Clerks and Scribes , Drain poor Souls with Fees and Bribes . These from nothing heap up Riches , Are they not far worse than Witches ? The Plagues of Families and Towns , The Ruin of Miters and Crowns . Princes and Priests , look to your selves , You harbour Serpents , Vipers , Elves ; Snatch your Subjects from their Paws , That consume them by the help of Laws . Deliver them out of their Jaws , That send poor Creatures to pick Straws . Burn all these Crocadiles Nests , That hurt more than Divels or Wild Beasts . The Divels will one day crack their Crowns , Pickled Knaves , as e're wore Gowns . That can do more mischief with the dash of a Pen , Than a Thousand poor labouring men , That steal a few Nail or Chips , And suffer the Stocks or Whips . Those that can Scribere cum Dasho , Deserve the Halter more than the Slasho ; Wou'd the World were well rid of this ugly Trasho . An old decay'd Gentleman Retainer , We count him but a pitiful Gainer . He stretches his Guts , and crams his Skin , And chops the Chamber Maid under the Chin ; Or the Cook Maid in a corner , he counts it no Sin : She can remember him from the Spit , Or the great Pot , with a warm Bitt ; This he reckons a piece of Witt. But the Steward takes double Fine , And the Tenant sends his Lord Venison and Wine ; So they grow rich , and the Lord grows poor , Bisides his Hounds , his Hawk , and his Whore , His Ale house and his Tavern Score . 'T is pity he should spend an Estate more . Let him sell his Coach and go a foot , He 's undone between a Rogue and a Slut. For long Leases , take large Fines ; Make Hay , while the Sun shines . Down with the Timber without Aspersion , Let the Heir starve , or sell his Reversion .

CANTO V. Mortals , I have found out an Hermaphrodite Beast . The Devourer of all the rest . Interest and Obligation , The great Idol of every Nation . It never had my Approbation , All the cry hath been against us Hags , To conquer us , is all their Brags . I 'le prove it by Act of Parliament , The Hollanders shall give their Consent , That all the Hounds have lost their Sent. Willingly , willingly , I say , Really they hunt for their Prey ; All their God is their Pay : There ran the Hare away . Relations all are Nothing , They aim at more than Meat , Drink and Cloathing . Not for need , so much as State , This is the true meaning of Fate , This is Witchcraft of the highest Rate . This is the Mistress they court , For her they fight , labour and sport . To her they all in Troops flock , But not to take her in her Smock . At her rich Dowry they aim , To this they lay their chiefest claim . Oblige by all means every man , Witch , Divel or Dam , Catch , that catch can , Though this Life be but a Span , They would live ever , every man . So all our Trade is done , To Madam Interest they all run . The plodding Student pretends Art , But he Acts the Gaining Part. Let him profess what he will , This is his greatest Skill . Mortification , Self-Denyal , Is but a counterfeit Trial. He that most Sanctity pretends , When all comes to all , is for his own Ends , For this he his Brain spends , This only makes him amends , All else are but seeming Freinds . The truest Friend , is Self , For Rule , Honour , Power and Pelf . How the great dissembler smiles , When his Confident he beguiles ? For this he travel so many Miles , And leaps over so many Styles . Right or Wrong , so it be but Gain , He counts all worth his Pain . Then , of Witches think no more , Worship this great whore ; We 'l all stand behind the Door . Rake together Golden Dirt , Of us you 'r more afraid than hurt . See how they laugh in their Sleeves , Are afraid of none but Theeves , This is that my Heart grieves . This is the only Plot , For this , all others are forgot . For this all We must go to th' Pot , Except the beastly drunken Sot . But such as are well in their wits , Will have a care of such mad Fits . These are the Mysterious Intreagues , These are the close Bargains and Leagues . These are the Politick Colleagues , For this they drop all their Beads . All Preach and Plead for this Cause , The true Construction of all Laws ; They that deny this are Jack-Daws . Mark well how deadly Foes combine , And fall out about Mine and Thine . Caw me , and I 'le Caw thee , Goes over all the World we see , Tho they ne're so much disagree . For this , Rogues hang one another , For this each others Faults smother . Feast together , drink and whore , Turn each other out a door . No Witches , or Devils do any such things , We all Reign together , like Lords and Kings . This not Gain , but Pleasure brings . Far better than such greedy things . Certainly they can ne're be good , Whose Souls are made of Dirt and Mud , As ours are of Spirits and Blood . I can't but laugh at the Poor Scholar , That for his Books loses many a Dollar . Alas , poor hungry Sinner , He knows not where to get his Dinner . And when he is old , He 's fain to study in the Cold. He was ne're made of my Mold , If I han't my Will , I rail and scold . He keeps neither Whore nor Mis , But his old Bed-maker Cis. The Gentile Scholar I admire , He 's fit to be a Lord or 'Squire ; He 's Honest , therefore he shall rise no higher . 'T is pity , for he has a gallant Soul . Yet give him leave to trowl the Bowl . But he scorns Baseness , never grutches , If he can keep out of our Clutches . If all were of my mind , I 'de spare him , But they are not able to bear him . For he has more Honesty and Wit , Than the brave Gallants could ever hit . I know none can have a more generous Mind , Than the true Scholar in his kind ; But how few of these shall you find ? I don't value the Mongrel Brood , Of smattering Scepticks , they want good Blood . They ne're took enough of the Caballine Fountain , Nor climb'd to the Top of Parnassus Mountain . The States are given to understand , That Witches deal under-hand , And get into great Command . But they regard not those that slit Cases , And force their Clients with brazen Faces , In Equity to run Ten years Races . When they are once got into their Traces , To their Everlasting Disgraces . When they are once got warm in their Geer , To the North Foreland they will carry you cleer . And leave you under the Great Bear , In Frost and Snow to take the Air , And yet you must say , they deal fair : But be sure of Witches ye have a Care , All the danger lies there . It makes every honest Man stare ; But if ye be wise , Come no more there . The burnt Child dreads the Fire , If you won't break your Neck , climb no higher . Leap over Steeples and Spires , And sing Anthems in the Quires , And you shall have all your desires . When you are far off from danger , come no nigher , When you 're all a cold , cling close to the Fire , Save the King , and hang up the Cryer . Never trust your Self-denyers . Tho they be Nuns , Monks or Friars . Have a care of Brambles and Briars , Especially of Spirit Triars . Sit not too long at other Folks Fires , 'T is a Mercy we are not all Squires . Interest , thou' rt a God to all , Thou relievest Great and Small , Every one comes and goes at thy Call . Interest , thou' rt a God to me , I am secured from Fate by thee . Thou art that great Leviathan , That turns as quick as Cat i' th' Pan. Interest for Wealth and State , Takes Obligation for her Mate . If Interest comes by Pains or Blood , Virtue or Friends , 't is very good . Obligation will never fail , Continually wags his Tail : Evermore crouches and cringes , Is never clear off o' the Hinges . Looks fair upon all , and smiles , And every Mothers Son beguiles . Obligation gets all , spends all , Keeps all , hurts all , mends all . Is , and is not of all shapes , Imitates , mocks , like Apes . Welcomes , and Curses all Visitors , Curses , and Complements the Lords Inquisitors . Dam ye Rogues , I can never be quiet , You come to consume all my Diet. Dear Sirs , you 're the last Friends I thought on , To greater Friends you hope to be brought on . Makes 'um drunk , and sends 'um going , Always fawning , always woing , And yet always undoing . Flattery smooths and grinds , Is of Ten thousand hundred Minds . Acts Villanies of every kind , All his work is to scatter and bind . She spreads and turns her hands , if you mind her , Looks before her , and behind her . You shall never know where to find her , Tho you set her loose , or bind her . This is your obliging Man , That loves and hates all he can . Nunquam Idem , Wild or Tame , Is never in a right Frame . Sometimes 't is calm and smooth weather , Then blusters , as if Heav'n and Earth came together . Be made , or marr'd , choose you whither , Your Shoes are made of running Leather . This cannot be an honest Spirit , Disobligation and Merit , At this rate , who shall inherit ? The Falsifying Art is all , We can good or evil call . Lye and swear upon the Stall , Hang out Religion's Sign for all . Interest for a piece of Bread , Will knock the honestest Man i' th' Head . Wherever you find good Feeding , Take it , 't is a sign of good Breeding . But wheresoever all is poor , All is nothing but Rogue and Whore . Eat 'um out of house and home , and come there no more , But wherever there is good store , Put 'um to 't , sing old Rose , make the Welkin roar . Interest leaves all in the lurch , Goes to Meetings , goes to Church . O thou great Witch , both cruel and kind ! The Ludibrium of Mankind ! From the Vatican to the Plow , We 're beholden to such as you . Play fast and loose , In and In , In and Out , Cut Capers when you have the Gout . Never Trust , never Doubt , Never be weary , never give out , Run all the Points of the Compass about . Set in , and set out , as nimble as Dogs , Keep Company with Toads and Frogs , Dance over the Mountains , and over the Bogs . Such Disobligations are base , That never dare to come Face to Face . Into all Companies rush , Never be daunted , never blush , And for no man care a rush . Brazen it out stoutly , swell , look big , Fear no man , Tory nor Whig . Cry up Honesty , cry down Lies , That man that dares say , Black 's my Eyes , I 'le make him Hell's Sacrifice . I 'de fain see that Son of a Whore , That dares tax me less or more . The Noble Moon , that makes no stir , Hath the Fate to be barkt at , by every Cur. Was there ever such an ugly Drab , Such a damn'd Hypocritical Scab ? Have a care of a Kiss and a Stab , Just such another as Queen Mab. Therefore to your self look , She 'l cheat you by hook or by crook , You shall be taken in a Nook , Either with , or without Book . For all Palats she 's a rare Cook , Who such damn'd Falsities can brook ? We run or go , stop or stand , We do all at your Command ; To destroy you under-hand , Except you mean to be soundly bang'd . When Interest has broke a Banker , He must kiss her Hand , and thank her . If she hath brought him to beg , Bow your Body , make a Leg. 'T is a Favour , you must thank her , Sent her sweet , when she smells ranker , Let her drink up the Tears of the Tanker . When she smiles or frowns , you must Blink , When she betrays , you must wink . Call her Patroness and Benefactor , When you are Reus or Actor . If she make you a Cuckold , over and over , You must most of all bribe her , hug her , and love her , Present her with Salmon , Duck , Partridge and Plover . She shall cloath you fine and gay , And she shall carry all away . Still for her you must pray , And wait upon her every day . Do what she will , you must not gain-say , Or else you must be forc't to run quite away . Thou poor Rogue , for good and all , Must be kick'd up and down like a Tennis-Ball . Sirrah , you must collogue with all Nations , And imitate all Fashions ; And bear all Brunts , And take all Affronts . Court every Rascal and Trull , Let ' am do with you what they wull : Or else I 'le swear y' have an empty Skull , And deserve to be jeer'd up and down for a Gull . Wink , ye base Obligers , stroke one another , Call your Foe , Friend or Brother , Each others Knaveries smother . Hug your false Friends like Apes in your Arms , Ravish 'um by your canting Charms . When they do you the most harms , And rob you of all your richest Farms . Then laugh , Slaves , in your Sleeves , But don't ye call 'um Rogues nor Thieves . That the eye ne're sees , the heart ne're grieves , The Rogues are grown all as fat as Beeves . They know they 're all hated like Dogs , Men long for their Deaths , as for fatted Hogs . They 'd as good be quite and clear hang'd out of the way , For there 's no body can give 'um a good word I dare say . And therefore I reckon those Verses of Homers , As good as ever I learnt at St. O●ers . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . I hate the Hypocrite to the Pit of Hell , That thinks evil , and speaks well . A Hypocrite's of diverse Natures , He appears in different Statures . A Hypocrite's never of one mind , But is always false and kind . A true bred Witch , rather than turn , Martyr like , will choose to burn . When y' have done their Bus'ness they 'l deny ye , Scorn ye , Plague ye , and defie ye . You must make 'um a Leg , before 'um all , When they turn you from Parlour to Hall . And farther use you like a Widgeon , Among the Skullions in the Kitchen . You must be chowst , you must be ridden , You must be coak'st , you must be chidden , And still do as you 're bidden . Never question Right or Wrong , To please or profit , that 's the short and the long . 'T is the bravest Trade that e're was driven , To blend together Hell and Heaven . To make your Bread with Ists or Leavens , To leave all at Sixes and Sevens . You must be ready to come or go , speak Truth or Lye , And on every bodies Errant flye . Fools and Knaves all do so , 'T is all for Interest you know . You must please , and you must be crost , In a Blanket you must be Tost , You must cry , Thank ye , when all 's lost . You 're the Ludibrium of Nature , You change to every size and stature . In Earnest , or in Jest , Rich or Poor , what likes you best : That 's the Cream of all the Jest , To be forsworn , when brought to the Test . You must be contented to be rub'd , Can'd about , and handsomly drub'd , And when they please , to be stew'd and tub'd . In a word , you must be content to be hang'd , And after all be content to be damn'd . Thank 'um Rogues , against your will , Admire , praise , and honour 'um still . But never dare to tell Dons of their Faults , The great Commanders of the Argonauts . When y' have most reason to hate and fear 'um , By all means Caress and Endear 'um . Keep a good word for a Knave , 't is a Charm , An honest Man shall do you no harm . Crawl , if you can , out of your Nest , They 'l worst you , you shall ne're be at rest . Set a Knave upon theirs , and your Crests , Write Knave and Fool on your own Brests , All together you 'l find the Devils Nest . 'T was for Wealth you thought to be sped , You 'l be found a poor Rogue , when dead . When ever you are pleas'd or crost , Perplexed , tumbled and tost : After all , they 'l rule the Rost , And it shall be at your own cost ; And make you glad to skip at a Pot and a Tost , And send you to the Whipping-Post , Even when you Caress them most . Still , for fear , do all to please 'um , Never trouble , or Disease 'um . For a good Turn , Greaz 'um , For a bad Turn , you can't Squeez 'um . When y' have flatter'd all you can , or will , You have shown the best of your skill , You shall be a poor , or a rich Knave still . I think of Flattery you 'l have your fill , There needs , for this bout , no more Grist to the Mill. The rich Rogues are the bravest Undertakers , The greatest Obligers and Interest makers , Especially such as are Ranters and Quakers . They have the power to command 'um , And to do all Contra-Bandum , No body dares withstand 'um . Tho ne're so bad , there must be no chiding , For fear , forsooth , of Disobliging . From the South to the North Riding , Without this , there 's no living nor abiding . And truly , to knock the Nail o' th' Head , This it is to be well Bred. These Hypocrites , how they look ? You may discern them without Book . How much better are we , I 'de have the World know , Kill a Chick , a Pig , a Child , or so . But never falsifie a Vow , O no , Never hot and cold blow . Endure all hardship , Frost and Snow , Cocks on their own Dunghills crow . Knaves from Beggars heap up Riches , Still then there 's something worse than Witches . Something , they say , has some savour , Bind all Rogues , if you can , to their good Behavour , Good Wine has always a good flavour . While Riches last , there 's your God Mammon , When lost , you may play at Back-Gammon ; Then fare well Venison , Rost Beef , and Salmon . While health and wealth last , indulge your Pleasure , When they 're gone , Repent at liesure . Mumble your Masses , and Jumble your Beads , And tumble o're one anothers Heads . Travel in Caravans to Hell , You know your Habitation well , When you 're all gone , I 'le ring out the Bell. I shall be right glad , when you 're stow'd in hold , Where there 's nothing but Fire , Snow and Cold : And then we Witches may be the more bold , In the mean while , to no purpose we scold . One thing more I had like t' have quite forgotten , For you to remember , when I am dead and rotten , Beware of eating Herrings after they be shotten . You must believe , as He shall believe , Tho you laugh privately in your Sleeve . You must resign up your Wit and Will like a Slave , For your Patron to carry to his Grave , And then you may say , there lies a stinking Knave , This at last will be your Lot , Be content , and take t'other Pot. On both your Tombs this Epitaph shall be set , Vnder this Stone , as black as Jet , A Knave and a Fool are both very well met . We 'l secure you for telling more Tales , Especially your Heirs Males . Especially such as are lawfully begotten , After they be dead and forgotten . There is a sad Curmudgeon Elf , A Raker together of Worldly Pelf . He is lately arriv'd from Delph , Call'd Don Amarado-Hurtado-Self . Near Cosin German , or married at best . To the great Witch , Lady Interest , Who hath well feather'd her Nest . Her Gentleman Usher , Obliger , Constantly attends beside her ; For fear any Ill should betide her , For none of the Company can abide her . If a Client want any relief , Of Money , Porridge , or Rost-Beef , He is her Controller in Chief . If any for Lands prefer a Petition , He answers , His Lord and Lady are in a poor condition . And he can do nothing without their Commission . If they be never so poor or lame , They may go away , if they can , as well as they came . I challenge Borough-Moots and Corporations , And all unlawful Congregations , In all Rebellious Associations . A few canting Tribune Makers , Independents and Quakers . All Factious Undertakers , That would all be Law-Makers . For dreyning the Ocean , Fountains and Streams , More than the soaking Sun Beams . Under the specious Pretences , Of self Preservations , and self Defences . Is not this true , that I say , Did ye ever get the Day ; But by Money , and foul Play ? And when y' have done ye ran away . All the Devils in Hell cou'd not make you stay , This is true by Yea and Nay .

CANTO VI. Of the Soul , what 's the true Feature , Whether she be a Winged Creature ? Masculine , Feminine Powers endite The Soul , for an Hermaphrodite ; Is not this for pure Spite ? Platonick 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , the Fancy tickles , Because the Soul hath her Vehicles . We flee from Witches , Hees and Shee s , More need for Lice , Hornets and Bees . But of true Platonick Love , We Witches yet cou'd ne're approve . Vehicles are Versatil Fires , That make strange Labyrinths and Gyres , Tripping and skipping , like Puppets on Wires . Planets are all Worlds , but the Moon , Is the nearest 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Terra Aetheria , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , we often see , Daemons Vehicles , and none but we . The Ape that mocks the Wit of Man , Let him encounter a Snail if he can . He runs , for fear the Worm should follow him , Often looks back , lest it should swallow him . Cornelius , of Padua , had the full sight , At Thess●ly , of Caesar and Pompey's Fight . The Weasel that crawl'd out of the Souldiers Snout , It was his Soul , no doubt . Catochanes , lustful in their lives , When dead , crept to bed to their own , and other mens Wives . Cuntius's Ghost made heavy Routs , 'Till Body was burnt with ragged Clouts . The Devil of Mascon , in a Bravado , Used Witches to Carbonado . When they marcht in Cavalcado , For which he deserv'd the Strapado . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , or the Fortunate Isles , Coelum Empyreum , appear like Wiles , They are both distant so many Miles . My poor Brains I shall never more vex , If Eels or Frogs have no Sex . The Pied Piper was a Roguish Clown , For losing all the poor Boys in Hammel Town . The Maid of Saxony uttered Greek , Others from between their Legs did speak , And act many a Haggish Feat . Who are 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Cabbala's , Tetrads and Decads , now-a-days ? These are prety Puppet-Plays . Leliths , Sylvanus , Satyrs , Fawns , Spirits just like Crabs , Lobsters , and Prawns . Magdalena Crucia , Nun , Abbess , Prophetess of Corduba . Understood all the Worlds Transactions , How , but by Devil's strong Compactions ? Meliorina fancied her self a Queen , And her Husband a King , the like was ne're seen . Glasses and Shells , were her Cabinet Gems , Rich , as if descended from Princely S●ems . Tetrads , Pentads , Senads , Pythogorick Numbers , This puts me into Melancholy slumbers , Which my poor Brain too oft encombers . We steal oft into Antrum Nympharum , And bring Hobgoblin Ghosts to scare 'um . We steal into the Fair Nuns Den , So the Woers cou'd not , to Ithacan Pen. How Ens Rationale Potentionale , Differs from Rationis , or Ens Reale . How many Myriads of Spirits joynt , Can sit upon a Needles Point ? 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Under the Wind , in darksom Shade , Black winged Night her first Egg laid . There an hidden Root doth lye , Which is the Tetrads Mystery . Just so did I , when I was a Maid , So does a Cock , that Venerous Blade . Into a Milstone none can see , Without Spectacles so far as we , Tho of ne're so high Degree . Witchcraft's the deepest Mystery , Of all Arts , it best deserves a Fee . Old Father Adam may say what he can , Phoronaeus writes the first Man . If so , Eve , where is she , That would the First Woman be ? Old Aristotle I 'm sure you dote on , What is his 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . That Pseudodaemon , wou'd I cou'd catch him , I don't fear but I cou'd out-match him , Where e're I meet him , I 'le have at him . Pudica Arbor , I long to see , The Chastity of such a Tree , To be sure it shall ne're bear me . When States would know good Success to come , After the beating of a Drum , We are the Finger next the Thumb . When Ambassadors are sent for Spyes , We use to prompt them many Lyes . Spains great Counsel seldom Refuse , Our cunning Stratagems to use , To learn all the Worlds News . Private Cabals and close Committees , Regulate Commonwealths and Cities . Arcana Imperii , Publicum Jus , There in her Majesty sits Puss . They that come forth when the Moons at the Full , Are Topers and Soakers of all sorts of good Lull . They are all Cuckolds , that hap to be Born'd Unluckily , when the Moon is Horn'd . For saying , Quies est Finis Motus , The Philosophers will promote us . But for saying , Primò Primum , Pythagoras resolves to Fine 'um . With first and second Course I shan't Dine 'um , I 'de rather tye their hands behind 'um , If I knew at Dinner time when to find 'um . O brave Purchase , Repetundarum , When Bribes come , resolve to share 'um , For my part , I cant forbear 'um . The famous Doctrina Rhomborum , Logarithms , Algebra's , carry all afore 'em . I made Great Bellizarius Beg , How did I handle Scanderbeg ? I think I took him down a Peg , What can't I do , Old Meg ? Watch a Hatcht Egg at the Fortieth hour , You 'l find a Heart in the Yelk , with a panting pow'r . This was the Doctrine of the Oriens , Cor est Primum Vivens , & ultimum moriens . What 's the Cause of S●intillation ? Or of Stars dropping from their station ? What 's the World's Right or Left side , Ebbing and flowing of the Tide ? Where is Lucifer in all his Pride ? Who got to Venus Bed side ? Whither she ever was deny'd ? If Mars stole her from her Groom Bride , Why Cuckold Vulcan should not Ride ? Justices of Peace and Coram , Look to carry all afore 'um : But the Bayliffs , if you mind 'um , Use to carry all behind 'um , Specially Debtors , when they find 'um . And the Jaylor knows how to bind 'um , And if they have Money , how to grind 'um . The Snail is safest in her Shell , So is a Monk in his Cell . Empire and Liberty were unsociable things , 'Till Nerva and Trajan made them meet in Kings . Would you think it a Goose Quill , Should give Laws to Princes against their will ? To get a Kingdom , and to Hold , Is better done by Iron , than Gold . Colours are diverse , but mark , They all agree in the dark . To fair Venus sacrifice a Hog , For soul Cerberus provide a Clog . I can do many things in my mind , Which I can never act in kind . Every one frames his own Fortune and State , But I rather think he might frame his own Wit at an easier Rate . The Moons Beams won't ripen Plants , Learn Providence from the Ants. A Hawk can't fly , while ty'd to a Fist , 'Till the Money comes , the Lawyer is whist . In Venice and Rome , Licentiat Whores , Invite Passengers standing at their Doors . Porta Angusta , or Porta Lata , You have your choice , Ratio del Stata . Mahomet's Tomb hangs in the Air , The Pilgrims at Mecha stare . Find me the Salick Law , 'gainst a Womans Domination , And I 'le find you Constantine's Donation . Of both , I have read much of the Gloss , But for the Text , I am at a Loss . Mooting Lawyers put blind Cases , Attorneys harrassed in their Traces , Drive the Law in all its Paces . Clients to Catch-Poles carry Maces . Find me Egyptian Hieroglyphicks , And I 'le find ye Indian Specificks , You 're so close , I don't like your Tricks . You come with your Lambdacisms , I come with my Cataclysms . Come all with your Hard words , I come with Strawberries , Cream and Curds . Come you with your Cheating Tables , Play the Fox in Aesop's Fables . Play you at Chess and Back Gammon , While I eat up all the Salmon . Come you with your false Cards Fine , And I 'le drink up all the Wine . Nero , methinks , spake like an Ass , Vtinam nescirem Literas . Dunce he would be , and ever was , Turn a decay'd Hackney to Grass . Eternity is Nunc stans , 'T is time that practises to Dance . Mentuz , the Month of a hundred years , Such Months wou'd turn us all out of our Fears , Live so long , till we fall together by the Ears . Begin Demonstrations with 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , March on in state to your 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . After Priori & Posteriori , I 'le rout ye all à Fortiori , I hope , in haste , I shall hear no more on ye . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 Fallacia , It is the Witches Audacia , Let 'um all be damn'd in Alsatia . Aeons abroad like Atoms fly , The dwarf Daughter of Eternity .

CANTO VII . ‘ Methinks , Reader , I have Fits , ‘ And ramble , as if not well in my Wits . ‘ ( Try , if my Gorget there right sits , ) ‘ Burn all the Pigs upon the Spits . ‘ 'T is Midsomer Moon , but in the Month of October , ‘ I always used to be sober . ‘ And I very well remember , ‘ I lov'd Rost-meat and Wine in December . ‘ I was a Maid once , I can't call to mind when , ‘ Since rockt in my Cradle , and courted by Men. ‘ Since that , my Maidenhead ran too and agen , ‘ I was never so chaste , as Ithacan Pen. ‘ Ramme Boys , Damme Boys , I lack no Courting , ‘ Come who will , I 'm ready for sporting , ‘ I courted Men to save 'um the trouble , ‘ Virginity is a meer Bubble , ‘ It makes their Eyes that keep it look double . When the Moon stands at a stay , Women are ever brisk and gay . When poor Pigmallions run away , Fresh Hectors must come in and play . ‘ I remember always I have a good Will , ‘ But I could never have my fill . ‘ In Lust I delight , and also in Blood , ‘ ( You cannot think me very good . ) ‘ And I am constantly in a good Mood , ‘ I love both , as I do my daily Food . ‘ I have my choice of Men and Devils , ‘ Which makes me Mistress of the Revels . ‘ I give a Character of my self . ‘ I am betwixt a Woman and an Elf. ‘ Yet I can justifie my self , ‘ I was never giv'n to Worldly Pelf . Catullus and Tibullus deserve the Strapado , For Ego te Paeditabo atque Juramado . For crying Omnia Bene , When they do Hesternae occurrere Cenae . Dyeted Garsons , how fare ye , While kept Semel in Anno cacare ? Thus says the old Spanish Volpone , Neiente bestie , neiente Bugeronie . Tho he have choice of Landabrides , He hates forbidden Sexes and Degrees . To th' Italian , he counts Self a pure Saint , Of whom he justly makes complaint . We better Principles understand , When we obey our Command . O ye learned Clerks and States , We disdain to be your Mates . We are company for Sprights , Hell , not Earth is our delights . Would you believe how true 't is , Senectus est Aetas Virtutis . When the Body most decays , The Mind all goodness most obeys , So our Philosopher says . Young Men are the worst always , Especially now-a-days . O , saying most Erroneous , Juvenis non est Ethicae Auditor Idoneus . Young men , you 're naught , your naught , And most unfit then to be taught . Say you so , Stagyrite , say you so , I 'le not send my Boy to your School for this , I tro . I 'le come my self , cause I am Old , It seems a young Cask no Liquor can hold . Socrates and you both play'd the Knaves , To keep old men to School , when they 're going to their Graves . Is this the way to Reform a Nation , To leave young men to debauch their Generation ? You say too , there are no Demonstrations , But in Mathematical Operations . This Rule has cheated Learned Nations , But now , we 'l have no more Patience . Always trust to a Lye , For Apodycticks only by the Eye . When Moral Truths , who dare deny ? Have more absolute Certainty . I may say Infallibility , Because they have Eternity . ‘ Crown the old Hags with Bays and Roses , ‘ Virtue her self in us discloses , ‘ So sweet , if you will , you may hold your Noses . ‘ 'T is not so I 'm sure with us , ‘ For we , th' older we grow , the worse . ‘ And every day adds Curse to Curse , ‘ But we never took a Purse . ‘ While our younger Blood was warm , ‘ We never lov'd to do much harm . ‘ Only our Beauty was our Charm , ‘ And we could let it out to Farm , ‘ And it did not take much harm . ‘ Like Novices we had then some pity , ‘ Which is that that spoils a City . ‘ But now , tho not altogether so pretty , ‘ Yet we 're far more cunning and witty . ‘ Others make their Fortune in time , ‘ Gather their Rose-buds in their Prime . ‘ But we are all old , for the most part , ‘ Before we understand our Devilish Art . ‘ By this time we 're hardned , softned before , ‘ All we did then , was to play the Whore . ‘ But now of Malice we have great store , ‘ To be revenged o're and o're , ‘ Every way behind and before . ‘ Still we aim at the Rich , more than the Poor , ‘ Tho we and our Brats are fed at their door . ‘ Not all so bad , as to play both Thief and Whore , ‘ As if we had never done so before . ‘ Nor never intended to do so no more , ‘ For these Trades are never to be giv'n o're . ‘ And of all this , without any Evasion , ‘ Or Mental Reservation , ‘ Or the least Equivocation . ‘ We do make a perfect Demonstration , ‘ For all Aristotles blind Protestation . ‘ If I had heard th' old Fool prate , ‘ I shou'd have giv'n him a broken Pate . ‘ Teach him so boldly to contradict , ‘ This great and more transcendent Wit. ‘ What Philosophers arrive to the pitch ‘ Of Raptures , as I that am a Witch ? Here 's so many Tag-Rag Jacks flye about , 'T is hard for us Witches to find 'um all out . After Woing comes Wedding , After Marriage comes Bedding . After full view comes choosing , After lending comes losing . Sometimes before , sometimes behind , Always sure bind , sure find , Never to us Witches be kind . Goodness ne're comes into my mind , Weather●Cocks all turn with the Wind. All Honesty 's quite laid aside , We give our selves to Blood and Pride . Pitiful Youth never begins With such stately , costly Sins , Drunkards , Swearers , Whoremongers , or so , Seem to make in the World a great show , But , alas , they truckle under us below . ‘ A thousand Tricks I have forgotten , ‘ Which will be thought on , when I 'm dead and rotten . ‘ To ev'ry idle vapouring Brag , ‘ I hang out the Defiance Flag , ‘ 'Gainst Buffle-heads Tag and Rag , ‘ I 'le fight , as long as I can wag . ‘ I fear no colours , nor yet no blows , ‘ Tho I may get a bloody Nose : ‘ Tho I all bewray my Hose , ‘ I keep for ev'ry one a Dose . ‘ My Nature prompts me ne're to yield , ‘ Tho I chance to lose the Field . ‘ Each Cacodaemon for us gapes , ‘ But from 'um all we make Escapes , ‘ A company of ugly Trapes . ‘ Beastly , dirty Spaterlashes , ‘ Take 'um and burn 'um all to Ashes . ‘ I think the Devil does me ride , ‘ I am so full possest with Pride , ‘ That I can scarcely be deny'd , ‘ Lucifer I can't abide . ‘ Away away , leave me alone , ‘ To sit upon my Imperial Throne . ‘ I 'm the Daughter of King Priam , ‘ There 's none in Hell so proud as I am . ‘ Bedlams , Beldames , Heldames all , ‘ Must go and come at my Call . ‘ I have had so many Brats , ‘ As there are swarms of Mice and Rats . ‘ They have had all sorts of Sires , ‘ They are all Ladies and Squires , ‘ They sit by other mens Fires . ‘ I begin now to be serious , ‘ All my Notions are Mysterious , ‘ As e're was Nero or Tiberius . ‘ Licentiats , Doctors , pass your Votes , ‘ At my Lectures take Notes . ‘ I long to go to cutting a Throats , ‘ Scullers and Oars bring your Boats . ‘ I must to Sea in all haste , ‘ The Weather 's already overcast . ‘ I foresee Storms coming down , ‘ Old Neptune begins to frown . ‘ While I am now just a thinking , ‘ The Sailors are all a drinking , ‘ And their Ships are all a sinking , ‘ And their Breeches all a stinking . ‘ Aeolus the Bragadocean , ‘ Blusters , and scowrs the Ocean . ‘ To Shoar I go , at spare hours , ‘ To overthrow the stately Towers , ‘ And smother Ladies in their Bowers . ‘ Break up the Depths , set open Fountains , ‘ Overturn the tops of Mountains . ‘ Shake the Earth , and rent the Sky , ‘ And mount up to the Gods on high . ‘ You shall see we are no starters , ‘ I 'm come to beat up all your Quarters . ‘ Therefore for me , make room , make room , ‘ I intend to hang out the bony Broom . ‘ I have a mind , this long Vacation , ‘ With you to take my Recreation . ‘ After my tedious Restrainment , ‘ I look for higher Entertainment . ‘ Make me welcom , all ye Gods , ‘ Or I 'le set you all at odds . ‘ For I have power , you all know , ‘ To do , as I have done below . ‘ Nay , never mope , nor mow , ‘ I can hit you all at a blow . ‘ What do I make of my self ? Stand , ‘ Be you all ready at hand , ‘ To obey my Command .

CANTO VIII . The way of obliging all , must needs Obtain a good Report for false Deeds . For some will be obliged no other way , But by such as under them play foul Play . When by them they have gain'd their base Ends , They 'l count 'um no longer Friends . They ever counted them Knaves , When they have done their work , hang 'um up Slaves . The Devil , they say , is good , when he is pleas'd , So are Lawyers , as long as they 're greas'd . If all be oblig'd , then the Devil at last . And to be sure then you 're Cast . This is a very cunning Trick , To oblige all , is to oblige Old Nick. The nearer Antiquity , the nearer the Truth , Rather the World was a Fool in her youth . Truth proves to be the Daughter of Time , Experience finds out every Crime . Errors have past for Truths of old , Antiquaries do not scold , Never deny when the Truth is told . You took all before too much upon Trust , Now see with your own eyes , 't is ne're the worst . Is not this the surer way , To prove all you do or say ? From their Fathers Children gain , And their Children come on amain . No disparagement to first Intentions , To find out more and better Inventions . The older the World , the wiser it grows , Wit comes by Experience every body knows . Are not we Witches most of us old , And so grow more crafty and bold ? The World grows worse , according to the Letter , But it might as well grow better and better . Galen was a pitiful Quack , Paracelsus was the Nobler Jack . Pythagoras , Aristotle , were dull Pads , Hobs , Cartez , Gassendus were nimble Lads . Of all which , the true Gainsayers , Are Augurs , Sybils , and Southsayers . Roman Fencers , and Stage-Players . An Hypocritical Generation , Is all Interest , and all Obligation . All Complement , all Fashion , All Complicate , all Subornation . All Extortion , all Poaching , All Devouring , all Encroaching , All Saints , and all Imps , Witches are ne're so starcht in the Crimps . When you 're most guilty , Cry Whore first , Let the Accuser do his worst , All these kind of Rogues are Curst . What , Tax a Lord of Perjury ? Upon his Honour , you must dye . Therefore be very shy , You know well the Reason why : Honour , Power and Riches , never sin , They need not be held up by the Chin , But poor Rogues to the Gallows bring . None but poor Sinners go to Hell , None but rich Rogues do all well . 'T is my Greatness must defend me , 'T is my Honour must commend me : But my Honesty may chance to end me , When my Money can't Befriend me . I cannot be a rich Rogue till I die , I need not tell you the reason , why ? Every Body 's in a good mood , I dare say , For me , live or dead , the clean contrary way . A Prince , be he ne're so good , He 's a Tyrant , a shedder of Blood . But a false Court of Justice , a wrong Parliament , Always have a good Intent : Because they are Omnipotent . If the People make Outcries , If he be a King , or a Priest , he dyes , They speak Truth , all others speak Lyes . Lyes from the People , are ever believ'd , So strongly , as never to be retriev'd . Thus the World runs all upon Wheels , Took by the Tail , as we use to catch Eels . They that hunt her , shall ne're overtake her , Yet they that use her will never forsake her . I know this to be true , Cuds , Duds , She 'l leave 'um at last all in the Suds . Oblige them all Mankind , Knaves and Fools you shall be sure to find . ‘ I ha' no more of this counterfeit Corn to grind , ‘ Verbum Sapienti , you know my mind . It us'd to be Verbum Sacerdotis , 'T is as true , tho a Witch speaks , you know ' t is . The Case is foul , you 'l say , by Law , Hang it , 't is not worth a Straw . A trusty Blade , if it be longer , Will make the Title the stronger , View it well , it is a Donger . By it I get , and keep my own , I 'le quickly take my long Sword down , And recover without the long Gown . That 's counted ever the best Right , That conquers and maintains by Might : So , you may bid all Laws good Night , And when you 're gone , play Least in sight . You know all this is very Tight , No difference 'tween black and white . If variance rise among poor Wights , The Sword is that sets all to rights . Madona Eloquentia Canina , Sits in her Barge upon the Rivers Duina . Maze , Elve , Loir , Oder , Danow , Rhine , She 's heard Bark , as far as Tyne . The Guinnyes fly beyond Charing Cross , When Actor and Reus are both at a Loss . From Dolo malo , to Bona Fide , The Lawyer and the Devil ride ye , I care not what Ill betide ye . ‘ I fancy , I am some great Queen ‘ Of Fairies , clothed all in green . ‘ I wonder Words , Figures , and Charms , ‘ Should operate such mighty Harms , ‘ And destroy so many Farms . ‘ Thundring Spells and brazen Faces , ‘ Do nothing till we come to Maces . ‘ A Venus for a time may Charm , ‘ With a Smile , but does little harm . ‘ Note it , forthwith we feel ‘ Most virtue from Gold or Steel . ‘ I wonder why I shou'd do so , ‘ 'T is Reason , I must , whither I will or no. Come with your gifts , and never fear , The Golden Horse is the better Mare . The way to overcome , you know , 'T is by a Word and a Blow . For all your Tricks , for all your Plots , The Sword is the best to cut Knots . You may Vapor o're your Pots , You are but Cowards and Sots . 'T is the Sword that hits all the Blots , And conquers all upon the Spots , 'T is to no purpose to cast Lots . Clodius accusat Moechos , Faith we 'l Feague 'um , When we come to Catilina Cethegum . Forfeiture destroys all Right , But I say , 't is want of Might , The Law shall sink you out of sight . Take it for true , upon my Word , He has the best Right , that has the best Sword . Forfeiture is a meer Ass , We 're are all mortal , H●y and Grass . I 'le make it good , what e're it was , Your Boor was a Sow-Bass . Tell me of Titles to House and Land , My Sword is ready at my hand . Tell me of Law , the Fool do's you ride , I have my Cutter by my side . This is Law , and this is all You can Right or Wrong call . If to the Schools you won't yield , I 'le beat you quite out of the Field . If you won't stoop , all the World knows , You shall be made to stoop by Blows , If the Sword will defend the Law , The same Sword must keep all in Awe , 'T is just so , in a Word , All Strife is ended by the Sword . If you 'l have my Approbation , The Sword 's the strength of every Nation . Therefore Princes keep your station , Of Peace and War , you are the Foundation . What are Subjects , for all their Words , If they have leave to use their Swords ? Farewel to a Monarch his good skill , Money and Arms must have their will , They 'l not spare Princes Blood to spill . ‘ I never knew a Witches or Madmans heart , ‘ Or Ideots with Rebels took part . ‘ I speak plainly , under Correction , ‘ I ever was for a lawful Subjection ; ‘ And safety in a Kings Protection , ‘ I ever hated Rebellious Infection . ‘ In a Free State , Memento , ‘ Every Rogue cries , Mio non consento ; ‘ Do their best , still 't is Mio non contento . ‘ No thanks to the best Kings , or the best Parliamento , ‘ Hamper such Slaves at the Council of Trento . ‘ There are in the World no safer Charms , ‘ Than to be embrac'd in a Princes Arms. Scatter your golden Mice , and fat a Cause , A lusty Bribe will baffle all Laws . Else , in vain you may plead your heart out , And lose the day , be ye never so stout . With a Silver Dagger stab a good Cause , That shall get you all Applause . Knock off quick , if y' have no money to pay , That 's enough for a Body to say . But if you 'l come to me to Confessions , I 'le teach you a thousand better Lessons . Princes Supreme are Legislators , Pleaders are Interpretators , Judges are Arbitrators . Both are very great Translators . And of these we are no Admirators . So the Result is , the Law shall rest , In the Juries or Praetors Brest , Of Right or Wrong there lies the Nest . And there lies the Cream of the Jest , 'T is not in your power to choose the Best . If your Cause be out of Socket , The Remedy is , Money in your Pocket . That 's that , that fits the Docket , The richest Jewel in the Locket . Or if Rigor won't discharge ye , I cannot tell how to enlarge ye . You may have the benefit of Clergy , That 's more than Hell will award ye . ‘ But we Witches to be sure are deluded , ‘ From this , and all other favours excluded . ‘ Tho we can ne're so well rehearse , ‘ We are not allowed our Neck Verse ; ‘ But yet , we can allow them a Hearse . ‘ A Dram or so , let 'um look to 't , ‘ Teach 'um to deny us the Book , ‘ When we need no Prompter to overlook . ‘ And which of all will prove the worse , ‘ There 's for them many an endless Curse . ‘ Some of us shall be their Nurses , ‘ In vain then to draw their Purses . ‘ When they come into such Conditions , ‘ Let them come out with their Prohibitions . ‘ We can hear no Propositions , ‘ Nor make any Compositions . ‘ A H●beas Corpus shall not remove it , ‘ A Capias Animam will disprove it . ‘ A thousand ways we have to fit 'um , ‘ Hell confound 'um , Devils split 'um . ‘ The greatest safety in Law lies , ‘ The greatest dangers from them rise . ‘ 'T is time for all to open their Eyes , ‘ Before they be made a Sacrifice ; ‘ We know where the Mischief lies . For a base Rascal's Lust , In no Mortal put your Trust . We never into Purses dive , Either to kill or save alive . And your Posterity shall never thrive , Smother all the Wasps i' th' Hive , So we our Vengeance contrive . Now a days 't is all the Note , Young men are wise , and Old men dote . Experience is nothing now , Old men want strength to hold the Plow . At the Stern they cannot stand , Young Wits are fittest for Command , They can do nothing , that most understand . So the World thrives backward underhand , This puts all Learning to a stand . Judges , you know , damn all Commissions , Lords answer no Petitions . Make 'um for green Heads and hot Spurs , Not for Sages clad in Furs . Parents must not be Lords or Masters , The youngest Doctors cure all Disasters . Old Counsellers are past their Prime , Take young Dupondias at half her Time . Old Lytae , you may burn your Books , Give place to young Rooks , You shall know them by their Looks . Mongrel Philosophers be gone , I 'le have a fling at you e're long . Pety Foggers , Fidlers , Rhimers , Ye are no better than Chimers . We value not your Power or State , Give us the Devil and his Mate , Poet and Orator go prate . To work Hags , never stand still , Bring us more Grists to our Mill , We resolve to have our will . The Watry Nymphs Primordia , Are the Universe Praecordia , These are accounted Genital , Virgins them you may not call , For they 're deflowr'd , as we are all . The Nine Muses are no better , By Apollo , that true Bone-setter . Rationes Seminales , Nunquam adhuc inveni Tales . Spermatick Forms , or Archei , Are a kind of Semi-Dei . Magnetick Particles are hurl'd , By the Spirit of Nature and Soul of the World . Vital Congruity , Plastick Parts , Puzle Philosophick Arts. Our Spells are nothing so perplext , But Mortals have much more vext , We preach much upon that Text. Old men , lame and blind open their Lids , Caper with their legs , like Lambs or Kids . When by a Taratantula Bit , They arrive to more strength and Wit , This is the Nail on the head to Hit . Senertus a-la-mode de France , Calls this St. Vitus his Dance . An Iron Trevet on the Shelf , Gives as good Oracles , as the golden Tripos at Delph . Satyricus , Vmbilicus Veneris , Provoke to lust , utriusque Generis . Yet the Rogue Wierus , Is not afraid to Jeer us . Wallnuts bear the Signature of the Head , ( 'T is time for me to go to Bed . ) The green Cortex answers the Pericrane , The Kernel resembles the Brain . The Salt of both cures the Head Pain , Ye need never offer to open a Vein . Augustus Herod prospered in Wars and Peace , At home could find but little Ease . Murd'ring Children , killing Wives , Were forc't to lend Cuckolds Lives . Quintilius Varro , and his Legions , I remember well , In Germany we 're fain to lead Apes in Hell .

CANTO IX . A Pseudo-Daemon haunts the Town . Beats poor Folk , and throws 'um down ; Wou'd I could light on this cheating Lown . Wou'd I cou'd find this unlucky Sot , I 'de chop him as small as Herbs to the Pot. I 'de hang him , and rost him like a Dog , Or smoak him for a Bacon Hog . Also , there 's a Cant of Bitches , That pass for counterfeit Witches . Gypsies all , and Ballad Sellers , Juglers , Smuglers , Fortune-Tellers , Palmestry and Lottery Spellers . Spirits , Sharks , and Kidnappers , And such like nimble Snipper-Snappers . Of Girls and Boys , Dye-Dappers , Men and Women Entrappers . Cutpurses , all sorts of Trepanners , Without all Honesty , Wit or Manners . Stargazers , Pedlars , Interlopers , Tinkers , Tumblers , Dancing Ropers . Rat-catchers , Relique-Mongers , Bully-Rocks , Hectorean Dongers . Figure-Flingers Circulators , Almanack Prognosticators . Nativity Calculators , Fantastick , Enthusiastick Quakers . Canting , Pretending Bewitchers , For Beer and Porridge carry Pitchers . They ●ram good Lug into their Laps , Rake Dressers for Marrow-Bones and Scraps , With large hanging down Paps . Indeed , I 'le have you by the Lugs , For selling , frothing unconscionable Jugs , To feast your hungry Imps and Pugs . Charwomen , Whores , the House command , Filching all that comes to hand . Sharking Drabs , Kennel Rakers , Ingrossers , Forestallers , Impropriators , Insignificant Falsificators . Counterfeit Rings and Jewels shining , Gold Lace , Money clipping and coyning , Ends of Gold and Silver purloyning . All kind of Honesty resigning , And all Roguery refining . Cutpurses live by their Fingers , Hobby Horses , and Ballad Singers . Fencers , Pipers , Horoscopers . Poachers , Broom-men , Kentstreet-Brokers . Tom a Bedlams , Jack a Dandies , Jack Puddings , Mountebanks , Merry Andr'es . Of all Trades , Jacks and Jills , That serve with , or against their wills . Madam Nurses , Madam Washers , Madam Dressers , Cutters and Slashers . All sorts of Wet and Dry Nurses , Ladies , look to your Purses . Quarter Waiters , Quarter Rockers . Chymists , Confectionary Dockers . Madams Gossips , Madams Tirers , Madams what you will Requirers , Madams unseasonable Desirers . Madams Skullions and Wash-dishes , Madams Kings and Queens Fishers , And all sorts of Court Well-wishers . A Ribble Rabble of old Jades , That trade in Wenches for young Blades , And Misses for old Cuckolades . Stillers of Puppydog-Waters , Black Patches and Beauty Spot makers . Washes , Paintings , Cordial Drops , Essences , and Elixars for Fops . Proctors , Undertakers , Projectors , Bumbayliffs , Excise Collectors . Horseleeches , Quacks , Farriers , News , Gazets , and Letter Carriers . Scurvy-Grass , Simplers , Drugsters , Monopolizers , Hucksters . Gamesters , Deer-stealers , Pickeroons . Tripo's , Jesters and Buffoons , Thievish Hostlers and Grooms . Catamits , Bardashes , Orphean Boys , Lustful Trinkets and Toys . Amulets , Pictures , Pilgrims Ware , To be sold at every Fare . Beads , Roses , Swords , Banners , Rings , Puppets , Bells , Consecrated Things . Conjuring Praestigiators , Legerdemain Operators . Jack in a Lanthorn , Whipping Tom , Will of the Wisp , and Tom Thumb . Women Dancers , Puppet Players , At Bartholomew and Sturbridge Fairs . Or , if you light among the Furies , They shall be Ignoramus Juries . Take in rank Casuists and Schoolmen , Resolving Cases to befool men . Pox-Curators and Red Noses , Cooks and Caterers for Quelque Choses . Secret Mysteries Disclosers , Of other mens Estates disposers . Assurancers , Projectors , State Engagers , Dy-Coggers , Betters and Wagers . Fallacious Sophisticators , Abominable Adulterators . Pragmatical Agitators , Busie-body Innovators . Journy-men Hacknies , and Tale-Bearers . Cursers , Blasphemers , Dammers and Swearers , Ranting-Rory-Tory-Ground-Tearers . Counterfeits of Bonds and Indentures , Sellers of Publick Faith and Debentur's , To Knaves and Fools at all a ventures . Prophets , Contingencies Revealers , Men and Women and Horse-Stealers . Parasites , Poor Robins , Carvers , Strangers , Orphans and Widow-Starvers . ‘ Pardon , Reader , this long digression , ‘ To shew th' Abuse of my Profession . ‘ By them that ne're had true Possession , ‘ Nor were never brought to Confession Poor , pitiful Pretenders , Scrape-Trenchers and Table Tenders , All miserable Offenders . Inconsiderable Rascalado's , That strut , and make great Bravado's , Lye perdue in Ambuscado's , Go a begging in Masquerado's . Illiterate Rogues and Whores , Creep under the Stairs and behind the Doors . Sollicitors in Camp and Court , Off'ring at Bus'ness of Import , Do mischief and make sport . At silent Meetings Witches are Spies , For smirking Girls with rowling Eyes . To pick up young , fresh dainty Lasses , Tender and brittle as Venice Glasses , Send 'um about with Tickets and Passes . We do for our Gallants many a Job , Hungry , and ready the Spittle to rob . And truly we give them many a bob , And make the poor Fools cry and sob . They shall play them mad Pranks , 'Till they crimple in the Shanks . Here they stand in Rank and File , She 's yours , to whom you lend a Smile . She shall come to your Relief , To whom you give a Handkerchief . O Dear Sir , you 're the sweetest Man , I 'le do you Service the best I can , But shew your self a Gentleman . Bedlam , Newgate , Bridewel Brats , Swear and tear like Dogs and Cats . See how these Varlets fly all in Sholes , For fear into their Skulking Holes . See how they watch and play Bo-peep , At fast and loose , at hold and keep , I 'le shortly lull the Rogues asleep .

CANTO X. There 's a rich Curmudgeon , lies privately lurking In a Hole , for fear of a Satyrical Jerking . My Satyr has took a Scent , by good hap , And rowzes him up with a gentle Slap . He 'l not part with a Penny , at any Rate , To ease the charge of Church or State , This Man 's an Enemy to Fate . That rakes all for his own Flesh and Blood , And gives nothing to the Common Good . If I had my wishes , this Miser's Seed , Should be all a Bastard breed . I 'de set all the Whoremasters a work , To make him a Cuckold and a slave to the Turk , Or the Grand Signior , should send him a black Box , To strangle , or cut his Throat like an Ox. And seize upon all , by Law , not stealth , Because he would do no good to the Common-wealth . A Rogue with a Vengeance , every body knows , That deserves nothing but Bangs and Blows . He sits under Hatches , down in the Hold , Hovering o're his Bags of Gold . Wak't out of his sleep with the noise of the Guns , To the Deck , for fear , in all haste he runs , As if it were at the coming of the Huns. There he rubs his Eyes , half waken , Asks , Do we take , or are we taken ? But puts no hand to Steerage or Tacklin , Capston , Sails , Maintop or Jackline . When Boatswain cries , All hands to the Pump , He sits still upon his rotten Rump . Every honest Saylor could afford , To heave such a Whoreson over-board . In a Vessel that will have no Command , Nor offer to put the least helping hand . 'T is all one , let the Commons sink or swim , So it be well enough with him . He neither Cures , nor Preaches , nor Pleads , Nor Philosophy , nor History , nor Law reads , Nor much regards to use his Beads . Nor troubles himself to obey or controll , As if , indeed , he had no Soul . A Hog in a Sty , a Lion in his Den , Both Devourers of Beasts and Men. When gone , no body wishes him here agen , So are they , that are fitter for Beasts than Men. 'T is a lamentable thing , to have Meat , Drink , and Clothing . Plenty of all things , and be good for nothing . Others study , Plead , Preach , Heal , and Fight . Trade and work for others Profit and Delight . Do themselves and others all good and right , And this Drone , all the while , plays least in sight . He must be a burden to the ground , In whom no publick Love is found . He that deserves no good Name , live nor dead , We may well take the Beetle and knock him i' th' Head . If he were but left to brave Sea-Boys , His business would quickly be done , without noise . That has neither parts of Body or Mind , A great Estate , and to Nothing kind . If it were to be hang'd , let him go , If it were to be damn'd , no body will say No. Him that no body can endure , No body will oblige be sure . So he lives in the World neglected , Neither protecting , nor deserves to be protected . Of all men hated and suspected , And by all the World rejected . He pleases himself , like a Sow in the Mud , No body can love him , bad nor good . He 's not worthy of his daily Food , That is of such a Selfish Mood . His Name and his Carkass alike shall rot , And be evermore forgot . Nay more , he lives and dyes with Curses , For robbing Orphans , Strangers , and Widows Purses . Robbin the Devil 's a better good Fellow , Than a dry Sullen Cur , that will never be Mellow . There 's another Busie-body , Dandiprat-Devil . Runs about , Fawns upon all Companies , good and evil . Insinuates into every mans Humors , Fetches and carries all Tales and Rumors . One of Mercury and Ganymed's Gang , As fit as ever they were to hang , Hebe and Cupid were of the same Tribes , Of Lacquays and Pages , that live upon Bribes . To set Lords and Ladies at strife , As far as to part Friends , tho Man and Wife , No body can lead a quiet life . Vlysses and Sinon were damnable Lyars , As good as e're were Spirit Tryars , Or the old Saint Self-Denyars . Look to your Tongues then , more than your Purses , Have a care of Tale-bearing - Doegna-Nurses , That do more hurt by Lyes , than Witches by Curses . The Trojan Horse was not stufft with more Spikes and Nails , Than an old Doegna with Lyes and Tales . They carry Fire-brands in their Clags , The Instrument that ever wags , Bemoans and Howls , and makes great Brags . Families , Cities and Kingdoms flame , By the tip of a Tongue in the Devils Name . Stufft with Lyes , and false Oaths of all sizes , Enough to furnish a whole Assizes . For Favour and Gain , he hath a plaguy Itch , To wipe every mans Tail , and kiss every mans Britch , What think ye , is he not worse than a Witch ? He must be found out , and perfectly hated , And from all honest men quite separated . None but a Fool and a Knave is able to bear him , The Boys in the Streets will be ready to tear him . He has infected all that come near him , The Coblers and Tinkers fall to Jeer him . Every one shall be Rogue , and be Jack him , When they find there is no body to back him . These , I suppose , are most obscure men , But what think ye of the Suitors of Illustrious Pen ? That eat up the Estate , whor'd the Waiting Maids , Hang'd up by their Master Vlysses , for Jades . What was Mercury , but a Lyar and a Thief ? And Simon the Greek but a Traytor in chief ? Who , like Cupid the blind Boy , Wrought by his Lyes the Destruction of Troy ? Catamites , Hebe and Ganymede , Were Parasites of a baser Breed , Yet their Lords and Ladies could make use of them for a need . Take heed of these lofty dangerous Sirs , Those Setting-Dogs and Blood●hound Curs , Those Foxes that devour in counterfeit Furs . Hyena's , Crocodiles , Allegators , Sharks , Polypragmans , Agitators . Vertumnus , Changling Translators , Intolerable Make-bates , everlasting Praters . Keep all such Rogues and Whores , From ever coming within your doors , Or treading on your Closet Floors . 'T is they will make your Bed and Table a Snare , Bring you to shame , want , and care . They are shameless , disguised Mummers , Trepanners of all in and out Comers . They sound Trumpets , Fifes , and Drums , Beat up your Quarters , and lick up your Crums . Away with these Rascals to the Pit of Hell , Without them the World would do all so well . Send 'um all full and fasting , Into Torments everlasting . These are your Jugling Lads and Lasses , That taste in all your Pots and Glasses . These drop Poyson into your Cup , Which they and their Imps must drink all up . Wise mens Wits are not decay'd , But Fools and Asses will be betray'd . But if ye have Spirits rough and enough , You shall shake them off , be they ne're so tough , And turn them going , with a Kick and a Puff . A Crotchet comes newly into my Crown , Concerning the Bumkin Country-Clown . The Shop 's a cheat , the Court 's a Charmer , But no Knave 's like to the Country Farmer . His Landlord and his Parson he rides , Spite of their Wealth and Wit besides . His blundering clung Pate plods , To undo both , or set them at odds . No Reason or Religion can perswade , To drive him from his sharking Trade . He is of such tough devilish Mettal made , Mettal to th' back , a Bilbao Blade . But all won't do , he never thrives , Tho he bury ne're so many Wives . The Plow is an honest Calling . But cannot keep the Knave from falling . He that deals in Grass and Hay , For Debt is ready to run away . The Butcher for him is too cunning , Cheats him , for all his Dunning . The Grasiers and Plow-Joggers , Are both turn'd , Jockies , and Petyfoggers . They 'l be too crafty , if they can , For the Priest , and the Gentleman . But the rugged rough-hewn Swain , Is the greater Rogue o' th' twain , He 'l sell his Soul to the Devil for Gain . He 'l shave his Landlords Woods and Groves , Cut down all the Trees in his Hedge-Rows . Poach his Game , by Water and Land , Venison is at his command . Without and beyond all Reason , Drives the fattest Land out of Season . Leaves all barren and bare , To starve a Cony , or a Hare . Ruines his Houses , Orchards and Gardens , Leaves his Children to the Churchwardens . Curses and damns all his Betters , Till the Jaylor keeps him in Fetters . ‘ Just now another Whimsy comes into my head , ‘ Not the first time I 've been found with a Lord in Bed . ‘ In those days I was wo'd and courted , ‘ By as many Blades , as to Penelope resorted . ‘ Only I entertain'd all , and bid 'um stay , ‘ But she , like a Fool , sent 'um all away . Thais and Lais , and Hellen I scorn'd , And Venus , by whom Vulcan was Horn'd . Cleopatra had the Fame , Of a most delicate , charming Dame . ‘ But if I had come in Mark Anthony's way , ‘ I wou'd have made him more mad , I dare say , ‘ For I shou'd have giv'd him fairer Play . ‘ In those days , when I was brisk and gay , ‘ My Beauty and Wit would Caesar betray . ‘ But I have studied hard , since then , ‘ And not left to keep company with Men. ‘ And have traverst the World too and agen , ‘ And got more Experience , than Vlysses's ten . ‘ Mark Antony did shamefully dote , ‘ Upon a rank Tawny she Goat . ‘ Still I gave my mind to study , ‘ And held out bravely , both comly and ruddy . ‘ I have got and bred up many a Hag , ‘ And will , as long as I can wag , ‘ And for this , I have great cause to brag . ‘ By long Travel through Sea and Land , ‘ I gain to practise by Hand . ‘ And thereby it hath been my Lot , ‘ To send thousands to the Pot. ‘ Revenge is sweeter than Honey , ‘ Better than Power , Honour , or Money . ‘ To Learning this hath me invited , ‘ By which this Satyr is endited . ‘ At which Honest men must be delighted , ‘ But Rogues and Rascals may be frighted , ‘ For which by them I shall be spighted . ‘ My business is , Baseness to reveal , ‘ Not to teach men to kill or steal . ‘ In their Colours I have pourtray'd , ‘ Baseness , e're since I was a Maid . ‘ I 've many Brats , as bad as my self , ‘ But , like me , none are giv'n to Pelf . ‘ The Hollander I do bewitch , ‘ The Jew is troubled with the Itch. ‘ What do the French and Spaniards all ? ‘ The Italian's always wagging his Tail , ‘ The German loves a Pot of Ale . ‘ 'T is Wine , pure Wine revives sad Souls , ‘ The Scholar loves the Cheering Bowls .

CANTO XI . You 'l say there 's neither good nor bad , Then Stoick be neither merry nor sad , There is no Judgment to be had . Of any thing , therefore by the same intent , There 's no Reward nor Punishment , There 's no need of Parliaments . All is frolick , all is free , You may be all as bold as we . All is secure , all is well , There 's no Heaven nor Hell . There 's no Lawgiver , no Command , No body can understand . There is neither Wind nor Water , Hot or Cold , no such matter , Nothing need to be lookt after . 'T is the most damnable Proposition , That e're deserv'd a Prohibition . The Law of all things is most crost , All Labour , all Reward is lost . There should be no hanging nor burning by right , If Vertue and Vice be extinguish'd quite . I have no more Will than a Horse or a Cow , I have no more Wit than a Dog or a Sow . Nor so much neither , for they may be taught , In their kind , what is good or naught . By this there 's neither Poverty nor Riches , By the same Reason there 's no Witches . There is neither Black nor White , There is neither Day nor Night , Nothing is in , or out of sight . No pain , nor no delight , No love , nor no despight . No wrong , nor right , Sense and Reason , Good Night ! Then there can be no Accusing , No Choosing , nor no refusing . You can neither sleep nor wake , You can neither give nor take . Nor you cannot merry make , But you may your Wit forsake . When there 's no sorrow nor laughter , How can good or bad luck go afore or after ? Take no care for Son or Daughter . You can wrong none , nor none can wrong you , 'T is a fine World to live in , if we knew how . A short life and a pleasant , There can be no Damage Feasant . Burn your Books , there 's no need of Reading , Cut out your Tongues , there 's no cause of Pleading . Who 'l endure to the Terms to trudge ? What Fools are we to suffer a Judge ? You can neither live nor dye , Tell me the reason why ? I can neither affirm nor deny , I am neither True man , nor Spy . There is neither Fool nor Wise , Reality , nor False disguise . Never fear Truth nor Lyes , You shall be troubled with no Flies . You have no Friends nor Enemies , You may go in any Disguise . There is neither Toad nor Frog , At this rate , neither Hog nor Dog . Nothing 's finisht , nothing's began , Nothing 's either Horse or Man . The World is utterly undone , All things fly to confusion , And there will be no conclusion . There is neither East nor West , Neither Labour nor Rest : But every thing what likes you best , And the Devil take all the rest . Find me out the Phoenix Nest , In sober Sadness , or in Jest . You can neither fast nor feast , You are neither Man nor Beast . There is neither Sense nor Reason , Neither Felony , nor Treason , Nothing is in , or out of Season . There 's no fair , nor foul Pretences , No body Master , nor Doctor commences . There is neither Dog nor Bitch , Spirit , Hobgoblin or Witch . There is neither Scab nor Itch , Who dug the Devils Ditch ? Nothing 's false , nothing's true , Need never give the Devil his due . Nothing 's lost , nothing's found , Nothing 's above or under ground . There is neither Plant nor Tree , Down goes all Philosophy . And the Devil take all for me , We 're never likely to agree . This most damnable Position , Damns the Spanish Inquisition . Nothing 's foul , nor nothing's clean , No body knows what you mean . Joan licks up the Platter clean , Let her go , she 's a nasty Quean . Any thing you may do or say , Either stop , or run away , Need neither preach nor pray . Neither Nakedness , nor Clothing , All are Shadows , all or Nothing . We nothing see , nor nothing know , All things are above or below . Or where they can themselves bestow , They go neither too fast , nor to slow . All is bak'd , or all is dough , I feel no pain upon a blow , It is neither Frost nor Snow . All are Spectrums , all are Fictions , No Harmony nor Contradictions . Extatick , empty Chimera's , Neither go from us , nor come near us , They neither fright nor fear us . There needs no Trade , nor Occupation , Nor Business with any Nation . None need keep or forgo his station , It was never seen in this fashion , ( If there were any since the Creation . ) 'T is neither out Nettle , nor in Dock , Put on neither Shirt nor Smock . Neither wear Gown nor Frock , Keep neither Hen nor Cock , Not so much as ask me , what 's a Clock ? Nothing has a Wit at will . Because nothing can save or kill . No going down , nor up Hill , Eat all the Meat , and let all the Drink spill . If all things be common , then nothing's my own , Wherefore is the Sword then , or the Gown ? 'T is very strange News that 's come to Town , It won't sink into my empty Crown . Nothing can empty or fill , Nothing can run over or spill . Bring me , I say 't , no Tailor's Bill ▪ Do nothing with , or against your Will. Commit nothing to Trust , Try to undo me , and do your worst , I shall be neither blest nor curst . Nothing can decay or last , Nothing 's present , to come or past ; All have their Doom , from first to last . Nothing is in , or out of Date , All things are nothing , at this rate , I can't possibly an Ace abate . I can neither laugh nor cry , At this pass , I can neither live nor dye , Slaves tell me the Reason why ? Or else I will you all defie . Ye make me mad , and yet not wild , I 'm neither without , or with Child . I neither conquer , nor am I foyl'd , But of all my seven senses I 'm beguil'd . I 'm as very an Ass as ever Bray'd , To believe all that 's done or said , I may as well say , I was never a Maid . I have neither Spouse nor Bride , Nor nothing in the ' versal World beside . I can neither commend nor chide , I can neither appear nor hide . 'T is neither Ebb water , nor high Tide , I can scarce my self abide . Get , if you can , on the Honestest side , And stay there , 'till I come to call you aside . You that take upon ye to be all Kings , I tell you , I know better things . Come hang 't , I 'le put my self out of the base fit , To strive with them that have neither Honesty nor Wit. I 'le crowd through the foolish Throng , And sing over again my old Song . ‘ 'Mongst all those precious Juices , ‘ That are provided for mens uses . ‘ The principal of all is Sack , ‘ Metheglin , Usquebaugh , Pontack . ‘ At Revels stands Heidelberg's Tub , ‘ Fiends in a Circle sit down at their Club. ‘ The Slaves sing Dub-a-Dub-a-Dub , ‘ I wish some body wou'd give 'um a Rub. They sit at it close soaking , Roaring , Yelling and croaking . 'T is a damnable provoking , Damming , Ramming , and Toping , In the Suds vomiting and choaking . Old ghastly Hags cling by their side , Each Imp has his ugly Bride . Every one has his Jade to ride , Such ugly Tricks I can't abide . Witches crow'd among the Fray , Turning Night into Day . Nothing the while but cheat and play , All Civility is run away . Roaring Boys from hence took Pattern , Every Gull with his Slattern . Every Jack with his Jill , All 's Grist that comes to Mill. Every Rascal takes his fill , Every Varlet has his Will. All our Gallants , Lords and Sages , Attended bravely with their Pages , According to their States and Sages . 'Till every one is paid his Wages , This is that my Heart enrages . Witches , like Antipodes ▪ walk on their Heads , Sleeping they lye cross on their Beds . Take in behind , let out before , They have all a cross Boar ; Thus we make the Welkin roar . Witches backward have said their Prayers , Witches upward go down Stairs . They tune and sing all kind of Airs , Play all Tricks in Markets and Fairs . Witches , by Flattery and Lyes , Creep into Noble Families . Do more mischief , as Scouts and Spyes , Than all their deadliest Enemies . When th●● look out sharp , they Wink , They write without Pen and Ink. When they 're cut off close by the Stumps , They use to dance without Pumps . Play at Cross Ruff without Trumps , Cut Capers , and fall flat on their Rumps . By this they get their meat and drink , Make the Tanker and Cannikin clink , By this I feel my Pocket chink . Now I 've told you all , I think , I must hasten to be gone before I stink . Hypocrite Nimiùm Garris , nimiùm Rides , Linguae & Fronti nulla Fides . ‘ It tyres me sadly to rehearse , ‘ Steddy Matter , in capering Verse . Both ways unpleasant , Vice to oppose , In flying Meeter , or creeping Prose . 'T is hard holding the Devil by the Nose , Besides , he will seldom bear Blows . To deal with Atheists , that are mad , That deny Good or Bad. What Mortals or Daemons are able ? That count all things but a Fable . ‘ Bring me my Mare out of the Stable , ‘ I 'le sit no longer at the Council Table . ‘ When all things go thus at random , ‘ Contrà negantes Principia , non est Disputandum . ‘ I do confess I 've lost my Wits , ‘ Th' have put me into Convulsion Fits . ‘ I must needs say , I 've lost my labour , ‘ When there 's neither good , nor bad Behavour . ‘ 'T is better to play upon Tabor and Drum , ‘ To sing Ballads , or cry , Come Pudding , Come , ‘ Tell a Tale of Robbin Hood or Tom Thumb . ‘ My Satyr's skill and labour 's lost , ‘ There are no Vices to be crost . ‘ This has made me Rhime so sadly , ‘ This causes me to Versifie so madly , ‘ I 'de better sing , O brave Arthur of Bradly . ‘ Any thing rather than be serious , ‘ When Scepticks and Stoicks are so Imperious . ‘ As to call all things in question , ‘ Of any thing there can be no digestion . ‘ Then I 'le set me down , and take no pains , ‘ And condemn all my idle Strains . ‘ For at this rate , no body shall lose or get gains . ‘ It seems my Wits do me beguile , ‘ I have fought with the Air all this while . ‘ I 'le no more a hunting go , ‘ There 's nought to be took by Spear or Bow . ‘ But must I my Witching Trade forgo ? ‘ You don't hear me yet say so . ‘ I must have a bout with these All-Denyars , ‘ By making them feel my Racks and Fires . ‘ When these Rogues once have their due , ‘ They may confess something to be true , ‘ 'Til then I bid 'um all Adieu . ‘ I 've been all this while at Fools Fare , ‘ I have fought with Shadows , and beat the Air , ‘ I 'le take a Nap , after it , Boy , fetch me my Chair . ‘ I must confess , in this wild Canto , ‘ I have been too much upon the Ranto : ‘ And have said more than I can stand to , ‘ For lack of a good Warranto . ‘ Yet good enough may be Womens Reasons , ‘ 'Gainst those that deny Felonies or Treasons , ‘ So all things may be good in their Seasons . ‘ But I no more of this Subject will sing , ‘ I 'le play upon a better string , ‘ And sing to please Old Simon the King .

CANTO XII . If Prerogatives be measur'd by the Plough , Liberties by the Scepter , we shall have Priviledges enough . When the King and Subjects meet , The Scepter shall the Spade greet , But not jussle for the Wall in the Street . Trust a brave Princes Word . More than the Pummel of Scanderbeg's Sword . How 's this ? Malum est Posse malum ? Fetch a Cup of Alum Stalum , The Schoolmens Wits use to fail 'um . An Old man shall ne're be an Ass , So long as Non senescit Veritas . The King ne're dies , that 's Reason , The Crown extinguishes Treason . Nullum Tempus occurrit Regi , Omne malum contrarium Legi . Who prompted the dull Monk with the Epithite Venerabilis , Of Bede's Epitaph , or who made first Aqua Mirabilis ? I was cut out for a Witch ab Incunabilis , I was not born to rake Dung in Stabulis . 'T was I that taught Bertholdus Swart , The Invention of Gunners Art . For which all Souldiers should take my part , It was by letting of a Rowzing Fart . It made the Coward Scholar start , When his Lamp was out , it frighted him to the Heart . 'T is usual with great Wits , When they fall into Melancholy Fits , Or don 't look well to their Hits . ‘ I think these were gamesom Tricks , ‘ I use to steal Wood and gather Sticks . ‘ ( Oh , I am troubled with the Stitch , ‘ Alas , I cannot hold my Britch . ) The Witches among Saxons and Huns , Taught this Devilish Invention of Guns . The Noise frighted all the Nuns , Put the poor Ladies to the Runs . The Fryars in a Gambol-Freak , Put them sadly to the Squeak . The Chineses had the knack , Of Printing ; ( the virtue of a Cup of good Sack , Fir'd the Bush at the Man o th' Moons back . ) I set the Tartars upon their backs , To put the Slaves upon the Racks , Before ever they could make up their Packs . They drowned them in the Sea in Sacks , A Company of Envious Jacks . They kept all their Arts closely Fur'ld , From all the Learn'd People of the World . The fiery Tartars make 'um all stink , And now they complain in Pen and Ink , To solve their Spirits they shan't want drink . And now with us they are glad to Trade and Barter , That before kept their Monopoly Charter . No Body , forsooth , might break up their Quarters , As very Rogues as ever wore Garters . We taught them at the long run to carry Coals , That till then , had lain hid in their skulking Holes . To shew 't is not fit for any Nation , To refuse Commerce after that fashion ; A proud , unmannerly Generation . After all this , pray and say what you wull , A Man-Witch has an empty thick Skull . I found 'um always most damnable dull , All their delights are in good Lull . To tell Tales of a Cock and a Bull , So does every drunken Gull . Women Witches tell Gossipping Stories , The high flown Blades are Tory-Rories . An old Ape hath an old Eye , I think y' have drawn me pretty dry . If 't were not for my Witching Trade , I should be as honest as e're I was , when I was a Maid . You may perceive I take great care , When I no kind of Baseness spare , And Above-board you see I play fair . Therefore let Kings have a care , I hope I shall deserve the Chair . For I know more than Apollo , In the Streets after us all the Boys Hollow . I put fair for a Princess in this Case , I value not the World's Disgrace , Because I have a brazen Face . So many such Sots don't daunt me , I 'le make my Party good , let 'um all haunt me . Diogenes gave his dull Hearers a Rub , By Waking 'um to hear a Tale of a Tub. The rare Lutenist is slighted for his pains , The scraping Fidler gets Credit and Gains . O dull Ears , O dull Understanding , No Judgment the Will commanding . Stand off , Heard among the Rout , I scorn ye , for Scholars , worse than come out . What are ye , but Arts Superficial Scummers , No Scholars , but Learning's Ludibrious Mummers , No Souldiers , but Arm 's Terriferous Drummers ? Good young Wits , but sad lazy Drones , If my Pupils , I 'de ha' ye by the Bones . To make ye study , I would try , Or else , I 'de know a Reason why , Blockheads disgrace the Vniversity . 'T is the base Pot and Pipe , Makes 'um Rotten before they 're Ripe . Or leave Apollo and the chaste Muses , To chuse Friars and Nuns Recluses . These Nurseries Dunces abuse , For which , my Dames their Cells refuse . A Rusticate Parson in Habit and Mind , Is a Scorn to the Learned kind . He can Thresh , and for a need serve the Hogs , But his chiefest delight is to follow the Dogs . Harpen and Tarpen , and Teardog and Marten , Thy Dog and my Dog , there 's the Game for certain . De Vau , de Vau , So ho , So ho , O're the Hills , o're the Dales , they go , they go . Plays ye at Trap-Ball , Cudgels and Leap-Frog , Now and then kills a Calf or a Hog . 'T is impossible , but this Amphibious Wight , With Learned Men should play least in sight . Fitter in a blind Ale-House for a Game at Chess , Or All Fours with Tinkers , than a Scholar's Mess. These Partiperpale Mongrel-Shab-Scholars , Smatterers , Scepticks , have too many Followers . For Divinity , he falls aboard of Dod and Clever , For Logick , Jack Seaton gives him a Lever . He dares look Bellarmine in the Face , And answer him in the hardest Case . Solus cum Solâ , Nudus cum Nudâ , says the Learned Glosser , Nunquam praesumuntur dicere , Pater Noster . 'T was a wise Negative Answer in cutting a Twine , 'T is dangerous to Define . He 's an Oracle among the Petty-Foggers , Hedgers , Ditchers , Thatchers and Plow-Joggers . Reward him but with a Half Crown Pledge , He 'l marry ye a Brother and Sister , under a Hedge , A fair Bride sets his Teeth on Edge . He bears a special hatred against all Quakers , And all Rebellious Undertakers , And all Factious Parliament Makers . He 's a strong Friend to the Crown , They may Preach and Pray him , but he shall drink them down . His Religion never stands at a stay , For he will be always Vicar of Bray . What , do you think him such a Widgeon , As not to be of the Kings Religion ? In all Changes , come what will , He was a Vicar before , and is a Vicar still . A Papist or Protestant , chuse you whether , The Pot Trade and the Priest Trade with him goes together . The Folk need not fear whatever betide , 'T is safe to be on the Parsons side . Be he sober , or be he mad , To joyn with the Parson all are glad . At every Puppet Play , Market and Fare , The Curate is sure to be there . At Wakes , Ale-Helps , Sessions and Sizes , There flock Black Coats of all prizes . In Term time Parsons naturally fall , Into the Chequer-Chamber , or Westminster-Hall . And all the Year long great Bus'ness , Frost and Snow , Every Week the Parson must to London go . I observe this Mongrel Generation , The greatest Debauchees in a Nation . Play baser Tricks than Coblers and Tinkers , The most sordid Gamesters and Drinkers . Others are modest with them compar'd , By them the honest People are scar'd . They can Beg , Cheat , Rogue and Whore , Hectors and Ranters can't do more . All Mankind they trouble and vex , Yet they chiefly fall in with the Female Sex . To them they have the nearest approaches , At home and abroad in their Closets and Coaches . They haunt them about by Sea and Land , Their Bodies and Purses they have at Command ; This puts Religion to a stand . The Stool of Repentance and Chair of Confessions , Advances the growth of all sorts of Transgressions . They can enjoyn what Penance they please , And of all men live most in Plenty and Ease . They prove the greatest Cheats in Nature , Overtop all Villains in stature . It was ever true , as men say , Corruptio optimi , est Pessima . ‘ My Invention is spacious , ‘ Short Verse confinement is vexatious . ‘ My Fancy is high and various , ‘ Scorns to borrow words Precarious . ‘ More Things and Words we all find , ‘ To Matter , Poetry is most unkind . ‘ Because thereby she 's most confin'd , ‘ Liberty best suits with my vast Mind . ‘ I 'm fallen upon a Subject large , ‘ Stufft with Luggage more than a Gravesend-Barge , ‘ I have not finisht my Parsons Charge . A course Felt ne're aspires to a Bever , Raise him from the Rout you shall never . Tender Consciences he relieves , Shakes hard Cases out of his Sleeves . He 's fitter to take the cure of Beeves , 'T is well if he Believes as the Church Believes . A Pot of good Ale will better go down , Than all the Learned Books in the Town , Yet he wears the Livery , a Cloak and a Gown . 'T is danger and charges to plow the Seas , For Learning , he 'l stay at home and take his Ease . Get into his Study , take a Catalogue there , He is drunk'ning at the Rain-Deer . Get him to his Book , to him 't is no good Cheer , You may as soon bring a stake to the Bear . There 's a Geneva Bible , and the Whole Duty of Man , Practise Piety , if he can , All won't make him an Honest man . Yet he shall preach ye , for Life and Death , Beside the Cushion , Dagger out of the Sheath . A Concordance , a Common Place Book , For Fathers and Schoolmen you may go look . No crabbed Criticks , abstruse Annotators , Quodlibets , Postillers , Commentators , Greek nor Latin Translators . Mark him , he never took a Hint , From the Vulgar Latin or Greek Septuagint . He hates to see 's Self a Fool in Print , Upon all true Scholars he looks a squint . He 's a Lord among the good Dames and good Fellows , His Course Wife is troubled with the Yellows . There 's Boxes , Rowls , and Pipes of Tobacco , There 's Bottles of Ale , Cyder , and Sacco . There 's Ovid 's Red Naso , and Horatius Flacco , What more does a Country Curate Lacko ? The Rustick Folk count him a great Schollard , As big as an overgrown Pollard . There 's Aristotles Problems , and Cato , Upon this stock he may Preach at any Rato . But that his Wits may be more refin'd , He reads Play-Books of the best kind : And all sorts of Romances , Leads all Jiggs and Country-Dances . At merry Meetings , O brave Garson , They 're nothing without the Parson . They fuddle with him Night and Day , Still the Bonny Curate carries the Bell away . Will these sad Wretches , think ye , overlook Libraries , or study a good Book ? If they do they have good Luck , A good fat Hen you may sooner pluck . They hunt ye , and hawk ye , and course ye all day , And fuddle ye all the Night away . This is all the Care they take , Yet they shall a rare Preachment make . He 's a sound Church-man , he shall never look , All the Week long , nor Sundays on a Book . For Ten Pounds per Annum , and a Country-Pudding , He shall confute ye the Pope without studying . They say , we 're Hereticks , marry Gap , how ? But we say they 're Hereticks , where are they now ? As good Divinity as e're came from the Plough , The Man in the Moon at his Back bears a Bough , The Scholar with his Hackney falls into a Slough . I believe he 's a Conjurer , if the truth were well known , By preaching Sermons that are none of his own . And this is plainly shewn , As Cuckolds that are overgrown , 'T is well 't is so , if you 're minded to try , He tells you , by his Troth , they 're the best he could buy , And this no body can deny . He 's a right Linsey-Wolsey Priest , Half one , half t'other , at the Best . Half callow , and half fledg'd , like a Crow in a Nest , Of what I can say of him this is the best , You may go look , if you will for all the rest . While I am thus Cater-walling , I find ▪ e're and anon , I am Crest falling . I 'm best , while I 'm dandling of my Dalling , At other times , like to be choak'd with his Spitting and Spalling , I never love to be out of my Calling . I must be took just in the Nick , I 'de best leave off quickly , before I be sick . I find these Parsons on my Stomach ride , I can't digest Ignorance , Scandal and Pride . ( I was never yet deny'd , So oft as I have been seen and try'd . ) But this sort of Cattel , that drink drunk and pray , I wish I could conjure 'um quite away . But they 're seldom sober by night or by day , And can conjure Witches and Devils they say . I 've spent my pains upon 'um in waste , I 'le ha' no more to do with these Parsons in haste . Where little 's said , there 's more amended , For they are soonest offended : And are too much Befriended , And so my Satyr should be ended . But think what Humiliation and Fasting , For Strife and Hatred everlasting . Here 's tedious Preaching and Praying , To usher in plund'ring , killing and slaying , Besides the plain man's Overlaying . All civil Honesty betraying , To the Churches and States decaying . But when it comes to a Feast of Thanksgiving , For Honest men there is no living . Flesh and Blood is not able to bear it , To see the Spirit thus rant and tear it . From a Witch you may hear Truth , ( Surer than from a Saint Forsooth . ) 'T is not polluted by my foul Mouth , I carry it round the World about . Are you Back , Belly and Conscience proof , Welcom then , under my Roof , Else I charge you keep aloof . My Pupils are of all Degrees , Sexes , Ages , and Dignities , And I never take Fees . Moreover in any Feat , I never use any Deceit , But I do my work complete . ‘ Half-witted Scholars are commonly base , ‘ I loath at my heart such a Mongrel Race . ‘ Wherefore I dare defie 'um all , ‘ When upon me such Dunces fall . ‘ Teach 'um to be just and true and be hang'd , ‘ To save their Souls from being damn'd . ‘ When time was , such as they Rebellion taught , ‘ Ever since that I counted them naught , ‘ That so long Misery on us brought . ‘ When once I perceiv'd 'um play fast and loose , ‘ I resolv'd in time to take 'um all in a Noose . ‘ Tho they call me Jade and Quean , ‘ I 'le devour 'um all , Rebels , fat and lean . ‘ I never rebell'd against my Prince , ‘ As they , a Pox take 'um , ha' done long since . ‘ I don't doubt but I know more than they , ‘ Tho I have gone the clean contrary way . ‘ Yet I 'le be so honest I 'le assure you , ‘ To chide you , tho I can't endure you , ‘ Mend , mend for shame , as fast as you 're able , ‘ Or I 'le post you for Rogues among all the Rabble , ‘ Amongst Whores they say you use to dabble . ‘ Gentlemen Scholars , and Gentlemen Lawyers , ‘ Gentlemen Coblars , and Gentlemen Sawyers . ‘ I 'le sooner trust a Trull or a Tinker , ‘ Than a Professor and a Sack Drinker . ‘ Give me a Dose , Page-Skinker , ‘ For I ever was no Shrinker . ‘ Let us stand to 't foot to foot , ‘ Wet him soundly to the Root , ‘ Here 's a Health to a Scholar , a Whore and a Slut. ‘ I 'le teach 'um all to be sober and chaste , ‘ And then they shall hear no more of me in haste . ‘ ( I was always good over and under the waste , ‘ But 't is no matter what is past , ) ‘ If not I shall at 'um all so fast . ‘ As for Mechanicks of all Prizes , ‘ Let 'um leave Robbing , for fear of the ' Sizes . ‘ Porters and Car-men shall deride you , ‘ Billinsgate Wenches shall scold and chide you . ‘ The very Witches can't abide you , ‘ Every Hackny-Boy shall ride you . ‘ I 'le set you forth in your proper Colours , ‘ Give better Examples , or else be no Scholars , ‘ And heard your selves among the Lollars . ‘ Universities and Inns of Court , ‘ The Rout shall hiss you to make sport . ‘ You never was at the Synod of Dort , ‘ I 'le get 'um to piss upon you for 't . ‘ The Rabble of Fish and Oyster Wenches , ‘ The Water-men shall jeer you with their Clenches . ‘ Tapsters and Drawers shall crack your Crowns , ‘ Throw Dirt on your Robes and Scarlet Gowns , ‘ You 'r far more debauch'd than Country-Clowns . ‘ I don't care for your Flouts nor Frowns , ‘ I 'le bast you out of honest Cities and Towns . ‘ You Philosophers , you Teachers , ‘ You Pleaders , you Judges , you Preachers , ‘ Fy for shame , you Law-makers and Law-breakers . ‘ Teach Honesty , and Practise Cheaters , ‘ You 're worse than Cannibals or Man-Eaters . ‘ Fix your Studies , and your Conversations , ‘ To Reform all the Nations , ‘ And to bring in better Fashions . ‘ How can you think the People will e're be good , ‘ While you act Thievery , Lust and Blood ? ‘ If you once mend , and all agree , ‘ None will be left so bad as we . ‘ You shall be sure to be all Ador'd , ‘ When we shall be Witched and Whor'd . ‘ Sea-men get you all Aboard , ‘ And leave your Reck'nings to be scor'd . ‘ The Gallows shall be haunted by none but us Witches , ‘ Costly Wives shan't wear the Breeches . ‘ Then in comes all Learning , Civility and Riches , ‘ And all false Knaves shall dye in Ditches .

CANTO XIII . ‘ As for us , give us over , ‘ To Conversion and Trover , ‘ Let the Law pass from Berwick to Dover . ‘ Witches and Wizards none shall Rule 'um , ‘ Fiat Justitia , Ruat Coelum . ‘ When I and my Maids are in a good Mood , ‘ We confess our selves overcome with Good . ‘ When we speak good , and practise Evil. ‘ 'T is enough , a Conscience to convert the Devil . ‘ I wish I were in your case , ‘ I would resolve never to be so base . ‘ 'T is time to Reform , when we shame you , ‘ 'T is time to be better when we blame you , ‘ If you won't , we must tame you . ‘ For lack of better Mistresses and Masters , ‘ We offer to be your Tasters , ‘ If not , we come to be your Taskers . ‘ If this won't do , 't is past my skill , ‘ You may be better , if you will . ‘ And so , you 'l say , may We be ? ‘ What if not , are you so dull and sleepy ? ‘ You 're fit to be sent to the Isles of Charybe . ‘ We must hang in Wind and Weather , ‘ And the Devils and We shall mend together . ‘ As for you , you may live in hopes , ‘ We must come to the Dancing on the Ropes , ‘ Tho pardoned by never so many Popes . ‘ We are Sinners of another kind , ‘ Scholars and Artists , you know my mind . ‘ The Devils and We are Apostates , you 'l find , ‘ Then you must needs see , if you won't be blind . ‘ And now I 'le get me behind the Door , ‘ To spy , if I can catch you any more . ‘ And then I 'le not fail to fly in your Faces , ‘ Betray you with killing Embraces . ‘ But I would fain from us you should be gone , ‘ And leave us to despair all alone . ‘ I have Preached , as the Devil can do , ‘ For good luck , throw after me an Old Shoe . ‘ To 't agen Boys , if all this won't do , ‘ But we must needs have your Company too . ‘ You may say very well , you may all thank your selves , For you have had warning enough from us Elves . I have then no more to say , For we must all return to our Play , 'T is Night with us , and 't will never be Day . ‘ Away ye Rascals , go to , go to , ‘ Must you needs be damn'd with us whither we will or no ? ‘ If Salvation it self can't save you , ‘ 'T is your own fault if the Devil have you ▪ ‘ Damnation its self must needs damn you , ‘ When Hell it self can't fright you nor sham you . ‘ For this once , Geese , never fear Over-reaching , ‘ You shall be safe , tho the Fox be a preaching . ‘ I 'le promise you this time , but if hereafter I catch you , ‘ To be sure , I shall bite and scratch you , ‘ Look to 't , for we 'l narrowly watch you . ‘ When Ranters and Witches rebuke Sin , ‘ Then , or never , Rogues and Whores will come in . ‘ Capons and Turkies never fat well 'till they 're cram'd , ‘ Hypocrites will ne're turn 'till they are damn'd . ‘ The Reason that makes me so kind to forewarn you , ‘ Is , because I never have a mind to harm you . ‘ Because I have had oft good turns done by you , ‘ I have still a longing desire to try you . ‘ As for other old beggarly Rogues , ‘ They shall never have our good Vogues . ‘ They have always been pitiful Shrimps , ‘ And never belov'd by us , or our Imps ▪ ‘ They 're good for nothing , but Panders and Pimps . ‘ They might have amended long ago , ‘ 'T is too late now for them I know . ‘ If they had ta'ne good Counsel in time , ‘ When they were all in their Prime , ‘ It might have sav'd my pains for this Rhime . ‘ Some Pardon then might have been had , ‘ Upon Repentance , tho they were never so bad , ‘ At last to be saved they would be glad . ‘ But 't is too late , it can never be had , ‘ They 're rightly serv'd , for being so mad . ‘ After they have had their full Play , ‘ Vengeance for them will no longer stay . ‘ To Hell , to rights , they must away , ‘ And there they must tormented lay , ‘ And Fry for ever and a day . ‘ One thing I 'le tell you Hypocrites , ‘ You shall be put to the greatest frights : ‘ And be Rackt most of all by terrible Sprights , ‘ Because you have tasted of all Delights , ‘ And have turn'd Days into Nights , ‘ Therefore you shall behold sad Sights . ‘ Because you presum'd to make Black , White , ‘ And have put Darkness for Light , ‘ Therefore you must suffer the greatest Spight . ‘ Others , by frailty of Pleasures , ‘ Of Pain shall feel far lesser measures ; ‘ But you of Grace have had the richest Treasures . ‘ The more of Mercies you had the store , ‘ The more Judgments lay at your door . ‘ 'T is you that fram'd false Oaths and Lyes , ‘ To undo whole Families : ‘ And would never hear their Cries , ‘ Therefore you can never rise . ‘ Such heavy loads press down so low , ‘ That up to Light you cannot go . ‘ It sinks you deeper , all so well , ‘ Into the darkest Pit of Hell . ‘ If you should think all this a Fable , ‘ To dispute you we are able . ‘ You believe no Spirit , well , ‘ Consequently you believe no Hell . ‘ But we are sensible of both , ‘ Which to feel you wou'd be loth , ‘ You are right enough serv'd by my Troth . ‘ If there be bad , there must be good , ‘ If there be War , there must be Blood . ‘ We feel Sprights plainly , when they suck , ‘ How they our Teats in sunder pluck . ‘ They never bring us good luck , ‘ At last they leave us to Tuck . ‘ We see them often , as they rise ‘ Out of the Earth , with our own Eyes . ‘ To them we 're glad to Sacrifice , ‘ For fear they should tear out our Eyes . ‘ As they do to others play their parts , ‘ Plucking out their very Hearts . ‘ And whether you believe , or no , ‘ I 'le warrant you shall find it so , ‘ And feel what you must undergo . ‘ Then brave Gallants take your pleasure , ‘ Be Jovial , and repent at leisure , ‘ Lose all your Ill●gotten Treasure . ‘ Your wretched Clients have cause full well , ‘ To curse you to the Pit of Hell . ‘ They have already rung out your Knell , ‘ And I have giv'n you a lusty Spell . ‘ And yet you 'l venture 't will be so , ‘ Whether you believe it , or no , ‘ The more you suffer ▪ for the more you know . ‘ Still you sleep , still you slumber , ‘ You do but the World encumber , ‘ For Hell you will be Fuel and Lumber . ‘ 'Cause no good Warning you will take , ‘ The Devil will you Examples make . ‘ You shall burn at the Stake , ‘ And boyl in Styx scalding Lake , ‘ And in Cocytus freeze and quake . ‘ The more weary , the more your hearts shall ake , ‘ The more Wise , the more Fools make . ‘ When the Truth of all you see , ‘ Not till then you 'l remember me . ‘ To day 't is laughter , but to morrow , ‘ It must end in endless Sorrow . ‘ You taste the Honey of the Bee , ‘ The deadly Sting you will not see . ‘ Do we not find that Nature's Law , ‘ Keeps us evermore in awe ? ‘ And for every wilful Offence , ‘ Disquiets tender Conscience , ‘ Where there is a Judgment Bench. ‘ If there were not some kind of God , ‘ Whence should proceed such a Rod ? ‘ And if there were no higher Numen , ‘ What should distinguish Rogues from True-men ? ‘ But now we plainly do discern , ‘ The difference 'twixt Grass and Fearn . ‘ Then do but grind in this Quern , ‘ Good from Bad you shall discern . ‘ So all is very plain and clear , ‘ As 'twixt Wine , Water , and strong Beer , ‘ Betwixt bad and good Chear . ‘ To Vertue we may now draw near , ‘ And from Vice , if you will , disappear . ‘ Here you may escape a Fall , ‘ And stand upright for good and all ; ‘ Not one , but one and all . ‘ So we may avoid a Frown , ‘ And so inherit a Crown . ‘ So some go up and some go down , ‘ As it is in London Town . ‘ Some Spirits clearly upwards fly , ‘ Some like Beasts descend and dye . ‘ Some happy sure in Misery , ‘ I tell you no Lye . ‘ And I tell you the Reason why , ‘ No man in his Wits can deny . ‘ Wherefore all Atheism I defy , ‘ The greater is my Villany , ‘ The greater will be my Misery . ‘ I know better , I do worse , ‘ I deserve the greater Curse . ‘ Stand Slaves , deliver your Purse , ‘ No Reason , but for better for worse , ‘ When you 're sick , I 'le be your Nurse . ‘ This is no pleasing Subject to me , ‘ 'Cause Happiness I ne're look to see , ‘ But everlasting Misery . ‘ From this Doom you may be free , ‘ W' have already too much Company . ‘ I know what Religion I like best , ‘ The Devil in Hell take all the rest . ‘ Mahomet , Sergius , I and the Devil were all at work , ‘ To fit a Religion for the Persian and Turk . ‘ Ease , Pleasure , Luxury , and Lust , ‘ Is all the Heaven for which they trust . ‘ By the Sword , and all manner of Lies , ‘ They hope to get such a Paradise . ‘ As for Heathen Religions , Old and New , ‘ I hold them every one untrue .

CANTO XIV . I 'le close with the Master of Obligations , Jack of all Trades and Occupations , That never keeps his Forms or Stations . He runs through every Compass Point , Is ne're in nor out of Joynt . Invents true and false Reports , With all Companies sutes and sorts . I ne're observ'd , as I can tell , Any such a Vertumnus in Hell . A fawning Ape , a flattering Dog , A crafty Fox , a smiling Hog . A roaring Bear , a Lion ranting , A howling Wolf , a Mag-Pye canting . In all Habits to beguile , A wet and dry Saint Crockadile . He can whine , simper , cry and roar , All this while he loves a Whore , I 'le ha' to do with him no more . He sacrifices at every Altar , Cunningly scapes every Haltar , Turn him to the Straits of Gibraltar . There he hangs out all Flags , Catches every Ship that wags . In all Places he makes his Brags , Struts in Tissues , Begs in Rags . Of Pigmy and of Giant stature , The veriest Rogue in Nature . Amongst the Tartar and Turk , Sets every Villain at work . In every Corner he does lurk . A perfect Rook , a perfect Shirk . No Roguery can suffice him , 'Till we Witches chastise him . He does all the World infect , Gets and loses all Respect , Only Hell can him correct . This Sect is true bred , and of the right kind , That rides the Devil off his Legs , and breaks his Wind. Sea-men and Scholars , gallop , spur and switch , Till they tumble in a Ditch . Raise a deep Dust of Dispute , Pro & Con ▪ Till the clear Truth be quite gone . Then leave the Question red hot , To them that dare handle it over the Pot , And determine at last with a Why not ? Jacta est Alea e're and anon , They have waded over Rubicon . Perit Judicium , secundum meum Intellectum , Cum Res transit in Affectum . Perdit operam & Oleum , When the Bus'ness ends in Cordolium . As they do , that have read Sybillae Folium , All Trash and Trumpery , Palea & Lolium . Principium est Vnum , when that 's divided , No Controversie can be decided . What 's made Duable or Triable , Is also Malleable and Friable , By Decree of the Schools Council Table . Majestas Imperii , the Sword doth wield , Challenges Salus Populi into the Field , But the Rebel Rout scorns to yield . Every Princely Suavamen , Shall be counted a Gravamen . To which the Vulgar Priests cry Amen , Who with the Rout are the same Men. Indemnity and Toleration , Give Stable room and Litter for every Disputation , But hinder a true Reformation . At Baiae , Tiberius lay close in his Box , And with the whole Senate plaid Reinold the Fox . Take a Latitat about your Neck , And give every Vice a check . Lye close by the Philosopher's Stone under ground , And I 'le warrant you , you shall never be found . Trebonian , the botching Sutor , Pretended to be the Laws Co-adjutor . Whose Memory is therefore Curst , 'Cause he left the best , and kept the Worst . Those Fragments and Cento's , Hoysted the Laws upon Ten-toes . Or , being Strait with Buckrom-Basting , Made them Crooked , Everlasting . Justinian made a good Constitution , Forbidding Comments to prevent Confusion . But they by Glosses have perplext , The pure Simplicity of the Text. By which poor Clients are so vext , You may conjecture what is next . All that the Law doth blame , Suffer Pain , Poverty , or Shame . The Judge of Common Law and Right , Was Praetor , or Chancelor at first sight . These were the old honest Ways , To prevent Charges and Delays . Now you must leap a Communi Banco , To Bill and Answer in Black and Blanco , To hold at least seven Tropicks in Cancro . The good old Laws are Abrogated , The good old Lytae , Eunuchated . So , an Index Expurgatorius , In honest Authors is Notorious . Some honest Husbands are too Uxorious , Geld them that are too Laborious . To get , for their Wives to spend in waste , And make them Cuckolds and Beggars at last . In nothing we can be secure , For nothing comes to our hands pure . By Plagiaries , ignorant false Scribes , Sollicitors that take Bribes . Corruption runs through all Tribes , By hunting after them I get Kibes . We 're abus'd , not only by Pen and Ink , But in our Clothing , Meat and Drink . In Building , Planting and Sowing , Harvesting , Threshing , Reaping and Mowing , Be we never so well careful or knowing . In Hawking , Hunting and Whoring , In Pots and Dishes , false Reck'ning and Scoring , And upon Books or Papers poaring . Trust no Body , that 's the safest Rule , Well meaning Honesty 's but Ridicule . You are all either Befool'd , or Fools , Never trust to Edged Tools . The eldest Knave goes to School , The wisest Rascal turns Fool. The Blade that struts in all his Bravery , Brings all to Beggary or Slavery . Nothing is wholsom , nothing is savoury , All smells of Folly or Knavery . At your Table Judas sits , At your Kitchin he licks the Spits . 'T will put you out of your little Wits , Or bring you to some fainting Fits . Behind your Chair stands a Waiter , A Parasite , or a Traytor . In your Bosom a Snake lies , In your Bed a Syren cries . Burn 'um out of your Hive like Wasps and Hornets , That buz false Tales with Musick of Cornets . These are the Dogs that fetch and carry , When all 's gone they no longer tarry . A young Rogue , by your Bounty bred , Betrays you at Board and Bed : He deserves to be knockt o' th' Head , He tells all is done or said . You 're safe no where from a Knave , You shall not lye quietly in your Grave . Riches and Honour shan't defend you , Vertue be sure can ne're Befriend you , But it may perchance help to End you . You 're nearest Confidents are not secure , Trust not , tho they look so Demure . Beware most , of the most pure , Correspondents do not long endure . By Vows and Oaths turn 'um and wind 'um , By Body and Soul bind 'um . If they stir , tye their hands behind 'um , And then you may be sure to find 'um . If any where you may be bold , Try among Witches , young or old . We are like buzzing , stinging Flies , To Revenge you of your Enemies , And be sure , Vengeance never dies . Besides , we can tell many Lyes , Make us therefore your Trusty Spies ▪ Advance to us , and we 'l relieve you , That none shall hurt or deceive you . If whole Armies against you fight , We can make 'um all vanish out a sight . I 'm angry at the Indian Tree , That can't endure the Sun to see . With Moon and Stars they do agree , They are no company for me . They bud and blossom in the Nights , But wither a days all to Rights , These are to Travellers strange Sights . A Plant of a dogged sullen kind , Such another I cannot find . To the dark , from the warm Suns , Like a blind Rogue away he runs . Wou'd I always had such Duns , I shou'd be afraid of Guns . A Grove of such Trees wou'd do well , At Delphos , or in Pluto's Cell . A Lye , constantly deserves the Stab , Tho from King Oberon or Queen Mab. I 'de rather deal with a Rogue or a Drab , Than with a drunken , quarrelling Scab . But of all things I should be loth , To encounter a false Oath . Especially from a Brother of the Cloth , In earnest I defie them both . I ever lov'd to tell Truth , Excepting to my Sister Ruth . She Cheats , by Yea and Nay , forsooth , And she has a dainty Tooth . An Hostler robs me of my Oats , An Atturney of my Horse for Ten Groats . To trust a Tapster , I 'de be loth , He cousens me with Nick and Froth . A false Balance , Breathed Wares , Deceive Buyers in Markets and Fairs . Tumble such Knaves , say I , down Stairs , And drag them in the Dirt by the Hairs . If you lack , I can hurl you a Curse , Rather than pick your Pocket , or take your Purse . Besides , I am an excellent Nurse , And I wish you may ne're have a worse . Take heed by all means of a Holy Sister , Tho she shed Tears 'til she have all to be pist her . If she be sick , I never mist her , To cure her by giving her a Clyster . But of all Remedies the Truth to smother , An use of Consolation from a Holy Brother , So they edifie one another . Lambs are as innocent as day , And they have leave to sport and play . See you a Carret-Beard , a Leering Eye , A Fleering Look , there 's a Knave hard by . Be as whist as a Ghost in his Tomb , While such a Rogue is in the Room . O Pythagoras , thou wast wise , To enjoyn silence amongst Spies . Hear all , and put all in a Bag , But let not your Tongue wag . Terrae Filius is a dull Translator , The Wits are , Tripos and Praevaricator . Take heed what you do , take heed what you say , There 's an Informer in the way . You 're betray'd every Mothers Son , Shut the Doors close , or you 're all undone . Beware of the Man that takes Notes , In time 't wil come to cutting a Throats . Have a care , wisely play your Game , It may cost your Life , Estate , or Fame . As much as you can , get out of Harms way , There is Lupus in Fabulâ . You cannot be free from Fears , While you hold a Wolf by th' Ears . Let Cynthius pull you by the Lugs , Take heed of false Cans , Fl●gons and Jugs . O thou Sainted , Painted Fiend , Under the Vizor of a Friend . Remember to observe my Command , To all the World in the Dark stand . Let all the World be to you in the Light , Provided you play least in Sight , And then bid all the Rogues good Night . Answer few Questions , determine rarely , So you may come off safely and fairly . But among us , tho our Tongues do clatter , Yet of Treason there 's no such Matter . We seldom Honest men bespatter , It makes all the Teeth in my head chatter . We can keep Secrets rarely well , Sent us from the Pit of Hell ; Others , like Fools , ring out the Bell. Keep a close Mouth at Board and Bed , A close Mouth makes a wise Head , The way to steal a Mayden-Head . If you chance to get a By-blow , Let a Doctor or a Midwife know . They 'l provide for you or your Brungeon , As long as there is Pond , Well , Jakes or Dungeon . They 'l promote you to be a Nurse forsooth , And you may serve for your Masters Tooth . Then comes Favour , then comes Gifts , Stifle all your Bastard Slips . Poor simple Whores are put to their Shifts , I can give such all sorts of Lifts . A Grass-Widow , or a Brummidgam-Maid , With Midwives drive a Devilish Trade . To a stale Serving-Man-Ass , With a small Farm , for a pure Virgin you may pass . Your Master now and then may take a Turn , No fear , you shall for a Witch burn . Go Fine , and Garish , For the honestest Whore in all the Parish . Beans and Bacon are no Meat , For a Pythagorean to eat . ‘ ( I am all in a cold Sweat , ‘ Yet always ready for the Feat . ) Let Eunuchs pick upon Grass , Too weak Food for a Boy or a Lass . ‘ But fetch me the t'other Glass , ‘ I am as brisk as e're I was . ‘ They that are hug'd in my sweet Arms , ‘ Ravisht and overcome with Charms . ‘ Shall be free from all other Harms , ‘ I never cheat 'um of their Farms . ‘ I am a Lady fair and bright , ‘ You must pay dear for a Lodging-Night . ‘ Lais and Thais , I don't admire ye , ‘ Non cuivis contingit Corinthum adire . ‘ Philosopher , I must Jeer ye , ‘ For Non tanti emam Penitere . ‘ You may , you say , buy Gold too dear , ‘ I can afford you better Cheer . ‘ I 'le make you glad , you hungry Sophs , ‘ To swill with grunting Hogs in Troughs . ‘ Dirty Whores may serve your Chaps , ‘ 'T wil be a Favour perhaps , ‘ To snap at our Leavings and Scraps . ‘ 'T is too sawcy to kiss us , or suck our Paps , ‘ We are too high for you to sit in our Laps . ‘ Turn out Freshmen and Sophomores , ‘ Among the louzy , pocky Whores , ‘ Such gross flesh is fit for you , and for Boors . ‘ We Ladies are Gentlemens Fare , ‘ Venison , Partridge , Plover and Hare . ‘ Venus with us may not compare , ‘ We are delicate dainty Ware . ‘ The Mutton 's ours , get if you can , ‘ A greazy Sop of the Pan. ‘ If you be troubled with the Itch , ‘ Get you a Bremming Sow , or a Salt Bitch . ‘ We are all Citizens Wives , ‘ A contented Cuckold always thrives . ‘ The naked Indian for Jewels dives , ‘ These make us lead Jovial Lives . ‘ We are all for Merry-Land , ‘ That have our Husbands at Command . ‘ Whetstones-Park is a fruitful Land , ‘ And Turnbull-Street a pleasant Strand . ‘ I laid my Tail at Lilly's Entry , ‘ Where all the Blazing Stars kept Centry . ‘ The Man i' th' Moon by us was Cornuted , ‘ When we with Constellations disputed , ‘ All the Astrologers were confuted . ‘ Thy learned Rules , brave Aretine , ‘ Have stufft with Lust this Liver of mine . ‘ Base Rogues , set upon a Woman , ‘ I 'de ha' you know I fear no Man . ‘ I 'le answer ye , foot to foot , ‘ And dare ye to come to 't . ‘ For Bed and Boord , for Bowl or Kan , ‘ I dare encounter any Man . ‘ Call for Bacchus lusty Bowls , ‘ 'T is Wine , pure Wine revives sad Souls . ‘ Call for Mars his Sword and Rapier , ‘ Sack will make an old Woman to caper . ‘ Give me Hercules Club , ‘ To stave the vast Heydelbergh's Tub. ‘ Let the purest Wits be chose , ‘ Wits for Reparties , and singing Old Rose , ‘ And taking the Devil by the Nose . ‘ By this Curveat , by this Hop , ‘ I 'm resolv'd to see the last Drop , ‘ Tho next Morn into my Grave I pop , ‘ I scorn to be outdone by any Fop. ‘ Eat Pig , Goose , Capon , Partridge and Pheasant , ‘ I 'm for a short life and a pleasant . A great Don with a long Train , In your Cottage entertain . To do him Honour , Strain a Point , And be , for ever after , out of Joint . The Servants Curse him , 't is hard , He gave them not a Farthing reward . Hang ye , Damn ye , Split ye , Rot ye , He has quite and clean forgot ye , Have a care next , He has over-shot ye . O thou Son of the White Hen , Thou art the Fairest among Men. Lords and Ladies croutch to thee , While Fortune dandles on her Knee . ‘ But I hope to see the time , ‘ When thou art past thy Flowry-Prime , ‘ Upon the Gallow-Tree to climb . ‘ I Swear by all my Mayden-Head , ‘ I ne're went chaste , nor sober to Bed . ‘ I had the luck always to be well sped , ‘ 'T is a sure sign I am well bred . ‘ Many a wet Saint has lost her Head , ‘ But I from my Colours never fled . ‘ This it is to be no Starter , ‘ As rank a Witch as e're wore Garter . ‘ At Dort , Damman was a fit Scribe , ‘ For Reprobates to take no Bribe . ‘ My Brain 's entoxicated with Conundrums , ‘ Therefore I 'le deal no more in Numbers . ‘ I 'm straitned with Vulgar Rhimes , ‘ To correct the Vices of the Times . That which we obliging call , Is to comply with the Devil and all . To bar my self of mine own Ease , And hurt my self , others to please . So 't is sometimes against my mind , That I may be civil and kind . Drink my self off my Legs and Life , Engage in other mens Strife . You 're a Coward , you 're no good Companion , If you won't Fight , and Tope with a Woman . For fear of being hist or kickt , Of being basted , slasht , or prickt . Give such a pitiful Slave the Lift , That to cheat , drab , or stab , has not the gift . Hang him up for Hawks-meat , a Mongrel , Good for neither Hog , Dog , nor Dunghil , Nor hardly to draw in a Tumbrel . Nothing angers me more than a Prelate or Peer . That eats up a poor Vicars good chear . And the Ladies Sons and Daughters , To stoop to a Vicaridge Thatcht Rafters . To come with their Coaches and Trains , To devour all the Parsons Gains . The poor Scholar must comply , Such Guests must not be put by . He hopes by this to be a great Man , Let him come to 't how he can . 'T is honour enough for him to boast , Of his Friends at Court , o're a Pot and a Tost . Still he must provide bak't , boyl'd and rost . My Ladies Chamber-Maid , or Dairy , Look upon her , she 's monstrous Aery . Poor Fool , she 's tender , nay don't fright her , If you were a Lord you may like her . She 's a prety Lass I can tell ye , As e're in your life you took by the Belly , But you 'l have need of Cock-broth and Gelly . I ghess by your Mumping what you lack , I 'le warrant her Mettal to the Back . Observe well , how the Girl does toss it , I must provide ye a Cawdle and Sack-Possit . I ghess by her Looks what she lacks , I 'le be bang'd If she proves not so right as e're twang'd . If you don't do her right I wish you were hang'd . Your dawb'd , patcht Froes are not half so sound , They 're rotten , they 're shotten , they stink above-ground . Her Brother you may set o're your Hawks and Hounds , For her sake prefer him before other Clowns . One Tongue for a Woman , all say , is enough , There 's none of 'um but are Tail-Proof . What think ye of the Men in Steel and Buffs , Or Furs or Scarlet , or Ruffs ? If it were the Crim Tartar or Turk , She could easily find 'um all work . Queenborough Mayor shall Justice hatch , Contrive By-Laws upon the Thatch . Who shall dare look him in the Face , Under a couple of Capons with his Gown and Mace ? No disparagement Mistress Maioress , Of all the Ladies is the fairest . Came not Dictators from the Plow ? Why not from a Thresher on the top of a Mow , Or a Herdsman from the Hog or Cow ? We 'l lay our Heads together , Tittle Tattle , Our Husbands lay their Horns together , Rattle Bladder , Rattle , We 're like to fight well when we come to Battle . A poor Man , be he ne're so wise , All he says or does , despise . Upon the same Man open your Eyes , You 'l like him well in a rich disguise . Farmers undo Landlords , I judge , When for Rack Rents they take a Grudge . To disoblige I 'm very loth , My Neighbour , tho I break my Oath . To be an Informer is counted a shame , Against a Customer I should be to blame . Misdemeanours I dare not Present , Out of a Charitable intent . If I be a Constable or Churchwarden , I must not weed the Parish Garden . If I do , when I and they can't agree , They 'l be sure to do the like to me , Therefore , I 'le take care to keep my self free .

CANTO XV. ●●at think ye of the Ornithii Winds , That drive all sorts of Birds at set Times , From Colder , into Hotter Climes ▪ The Tropii Blasts come blundering amain , On purpose to retire back again . It has been counted no small Wonder , For Bells to dispel Lightning and Thunder . What think ye , that Winds should enter the Lists , In anger , fighting as Duellists . A Whirlwind coming from Mountain Tops , Is laid , by sprinkling of Vinegar Drops , The opinion of Pliny , and such Fops . On Athos and Olympus , there lies The Ashes of many a Sacrifice . On which the Priest his Letters finds , Undispersed with the Winds . The most famous Lepanto Scuffle , The Ottoman Family ever since did Ruffle . It was by Sixtus Quintus devis'd , For which he was never Canoniz'd , Sebastian was Sainted by Complacentia , For driving the Moors out of Valentia . What Prince , but Spains , in the World can be found , That has the Sun setting and rising in his Ground ? That does so in Gold and Silver Mines abound ? Inraes cast off Idols in golden Peru , That the Golden Sun they might give his due : Indian , Goa , Malaca , Calecute , Were a spruce People , and very acute . Spaniards found the People so , In the Kingdom of Mexico . Turks want Liberty and Arts , To entitle them Nobles , or Men of Parts . Where they come , they strike a deadly Blow , Depopulating all as they go . Where the Sultan's Horse sets his Paw , He treads down all Liberty and Law . Basha's , Viziers , Janizaries , Tartars , Mammalucks , Myrmidons , ruine all Christian Quarters . What think ye of Aristotle's Opinion , ( Who is the Philosophers Minion . ) Some are born Slaves , some are born to Rule , If I had said so , I had been a Fool , For that trick I 'm not fond of his School . He entitled the Greeks Free Born , And all the rest call'd Barbarians in scorn . In Bacara , the Kingdom of Assasins , Profest to murder all Kings . Munsters Anabaptists did the same things , 'T is bad trusting to Icarus's Wings . Beasts Ferae Naturae , are the Occupants right , Not so with Men conquer'd by Might : To be made all Slaves the first Night , For Reasonable Creatures 't is too Tight . Look out sharp , for in Fair weather , The Holy War and the Philosophers Stone will come both together . Constantine was pleas'd to call , Trajan the Builder , the Flower of the Wall . Tortura Legum brings the most Cares , Penal Laws bring ( Nemo scit ) Snares . How many Dangers stand in Battalia , In the Clause , In ordine ad Spiritualia ? This is the Port , this is the Gap , For all Societies to be took in a Trap. I have now one great Case in my Hand , Puts all the Learned to a stand : Quo Jure , quâve Injuria , Did Spain conquer America ? What just Causes for that War ? Tell me , and I 'le eat Tar. Columbus's Dove was nimble of Feather , To fetch that Land by Wind and Weather . The Pigeon was swift of Eye and Wing , To discover such an unknown Spring . Curiosity first led , To find out that Golden Bed , How came this into his Head ? Then Covetousness , then fierce Arms , I had no hand in these cruel Charms . Instead of being fairly Traded , The Natives were fouly Invaded , And by Oppressions overladed . And in digging of Mines meerly Jaded . For which Christianity is upbraided . They drove the Trade that was not good , To rob their Treasure , and spill their Blood . Since then proud Spaniard never Thrives , For taking their Goods , and not saving their Lives . For Slaves they should not have been despis'd , But Cherished and Civiliz'd . So they might have had much Gains , Without putting the poor Creatures to such Pains . They might have been made Allies and Friends , To compass to both profitable Ends. There 's room enough for both to dwell , Without making them change their Country for Hell . Many fair Arguments , Are made to colour black Intents . Scholars take off your bloody Pens , Lions keep in your own Dens . For the harm you have done , ye can ne're make Amends , Ye Judge and Act for basest Ends. I leave this grand Cause to a higher Doom , I never twisted one Thred in this Loom . Aqua Regis may be bold , ( Ther 's cause enough ) to dissolve Gold . Aqua Fortis , for the Queen , May suffice to melt Silver clean . Within the Tropicks there 's always a Breeze , So cold , as to make me Sneeze , Under the Poles it does ever Freeze . Castor and Pollux takes Turns , To live and dye in each others Vrns , The Sea Boils , but never Burns . A rare Secret to be sold in the Market , I bring , 'T is this , That the Earth was the first Cold Thing ; I 'de fain know who made the first Gold Ring . Fishes Scales never shine , till they stink , ( I 'm sick , Fetch me a little Drink . ) Fracastarius with a Red hot Frying Pan , Drew life from the dead Heart and Brain of a Man , What virtue then is there in a Rowzing Kan ? Hark the Virtuosi make a great clutter , An Indian Web of Feathers will melt Butter . Mezentius Torments were , to embrace the Dead , For my part , I 'de rather be knockt o' th' Head . Infant Rome was swadled by Kings , Nourisht by Consuls , and popular Things . Decemvirs , made Laws upon Laws , ( False Heraldry , ) sent into Greece to pick Straws . ) Praetorian Edicts in Albo were wrote , Twelve Tables in Brass never to be forgot , ( When my Moneys gone , who shall pay the shot ? ) Caesar unsheath'd his Sword very quick , But put it up late , when 't was just in the Nick. Sylla , for his part , had leave to Prate , Tho he knew no Letters , he might Dictate . Caesar , when wrapped up in the Gown , Made the best Laws in the Town , But could never get to wear a Crown . The same Caesar , when clad in Steel , Made all the Country Provinces reel . Come , Sirs , I 'le shew you a very fine Sight , Rotten Wood shines in the dark Night . Vndulation is a furrowed Wind , May trouble my Body , but shall ne're puzzle my Mind , Every thing is true that 's took in its kind . The Observation is Rare , It Rains not , but it Blows every where . Our Ancestors did admire , To see a Childs Apron flash with Fire . With Salt and Allom that Apron was dy'd , The Scales of which round about fly'd . This Reason could never be deny'd , And so the Cause was fully try'd . A Fire licking a Childs Hair , Was to be seen at Sturbridge Fair , With a lambent Flame all over a Sweating Mare . For Answer to which ▪ let whose will take care , That Head may be Bald , where there grows no Hair . A Free hold Will shall hold in Capite , Says Cornelius a Lapide . A Will in Copy-Hold must fail , Not so , in Fee Simple or Fee Tail . The Taylor that makes Pety-Coats for the Moon , Had need to take measures every Noon , Feed the poor Baby with a Dish and a Spoon . A Professor of Schelstat in Alsatia , Agrees with the Doctors of Dalmatia . That no Passion is so deadly base . As is the poyson of Favour and Grace ; Then Out-law the Law , Crown , Scepter and Mace . Le Roy le Voult , makes Law and Jus. Provided the Seignieurs sont Assentuz . Popular Tumults are most Nefandi , Nullum Malum pejus Libertate Errandi , Never allow Potestatem Negandi . Drag the Traytor upon a Hirdle , Hang the Alcoran at the Devil's Girdle . All Wickedness acts Cum Privilegio , Says honest Cardinal Campegio . Why do Tribunes make such a Pudder ? Tye up the Helm , pull up the Rudder . Let the Vessel ride a Drift , Cut Cables , slip Anchors , let all Shift . The Virtuo●i , I 'de ha' you know 't , Say , every Beast delights in some Musical Note . A Kitt was toucht , a Fly made the Cow curveat , Ay that 's it , quoth the Scholar , play that again neat . Quae Genus 's Deficients and Redundants , Breed of Heteroclites Abundants . Quod Primum id Rectum est , we 're all mistook , Lies came in late , by Hook or by Crook , We 're all cheated , with , or without Book . Narcissus , Nireus , Tyro , Lede , Hyacinth , Branchus , Hylos , Atys , a pure Breed , Cupid , Ixion , Laco , and Ganymede . These , and the like , pickt up for Catamits , To serve for no less than Celestial Wights . Hebe , Daphne , Moenades , Corybantes , Sober and mad Females Sycophants . Juno , Venus , in vain fret and vex , For those that came in their rooms , of the male Sex . They must be Cup-bearers to Jove and the Gods , And Bedfellows too , tho fitter for Rods. At presenting and taking the Bowl , they are kist , While the Wives wish the Rogues worse than bepist , But they cannot help it , they must be whist . Tho the Boys and Girls do kick and sprall , They cannot lye without 'um at all , They are ready to come , and go at their Call . Cupid excuses his Tricks to Venus Chiding , Because Objects of Love were of his providing . But he did only demonstrate and show , That which Fools Appetites would not let go . Hercules took it for a great Disgrace , When Jove prefer'd Aesculape to the highest Place . As Venus was Cupids , her Sons , Whipper , So Omphale bang'd Hercules with her Slipper . Menippus , like Hercules , in a Lions Sark , Frighted poor Cerberus in the Dark , That he durst not so much as Bark . He took Mithrobarzanes the Magician , To be his Guide to the Fields Elysian , Where they two disguis'd stood , and heard all The Passages in Pluto's Judgment Hall . And having searched for their Pleasure , Unconcern'd , they return'd at leisure . Let me commend this , Brave Menippus , For a nobler good Fellow than Aristippus . They call him a Dog , worse than come out , But he hunted himself to Hell , in , and out . With his Lions Skin , Harp and Club , Like Hercules , he gave the Barking Cur a Drub , More than Diogenes could do with his Tub. He cheated Charon of his Fare , a Groat , After he had like to sink his Boat . Besides many a Railing Note , He was ready to cut his Throat . He observ'd all the Ghosts , low and high , To Mino's Courts he came for a Spy . First he enquir'd after Princes and Kings , Found 'um selling of Pins , and counterfeit Rings . Singing Ballads , begging in each Corner-street , For Farthings , of every Ghost they meet . Philip of Macedon crept in a dark Hole , Was Cobling of Shoes , and picking up Cole . Commanders and Lords of high Degree , He found teaching of A , B , C. Selling of Sallets , Salt , Custards and Toys , And all sorts of Play things for Girls and Boys . Next he enquires for the Men of the Schools , And here they were counted the greatest Fools . Socrates , that was erst so Grave , Courts Palamedes , Vlysses , Nestor , and each prating Knave . Diogenes joyns with Sardanapalus the Assyrian , And with Midas the golden Phrygian . And others of the like Prodigal stamp , That hunted for Poverty , and got the Cramp . Diogenes is got among the Throngs , And pleases 'um with merry Songs . For which the Sober sort did not love him , But beg'd farther off to remove him . There was Timon the Man Hater , That spent all by Feasting , Dice , and Cinque Cater . All sorts of Flatterers and Woers , Prov'd the rich Athenians Undoers . 'Til they brought the Rich old Blade , To the Shovel and the Spade . Then Curst he Jove and all his Mates , That had undone him , more than the Fates . Jove offer'd to put him out of his pain , Sent him to Plutus , to make him rich again . Because he had offer'd him many a Hecatomb in vain . At first he refus'd 'till he heard his Spade knock , By good luck , upon a golden Crock . Pythagoras was so hungry in Hell , That he could eat Beans very well . So the Philosophers of every kind , After Death did change their Mind . Tyresius , a Woman was she , Turn'd Man , with the gift of Prophecy . Hesiod , Homer , Bundles and Faggits , Of Epicks , Comicks , and Tragicks . Heroicks , Amorists and Lyricks , Fabulists all , but the Satyricks . Their Tales pleas'd his youthful Muse , Not able to judge of their great Abuse . When Riper , he learnt the Wisdom of Laws , And by them discover'd Poetical Flaws , Which cur'd him of Folly , more than the Spaws . But in his more solid Elder Times , When best able to judge of Virtues and Crimes . He fell into the Philosophers Snares , But could ne're understand how went the Squares . Gross Ignorance of every kind , Wholly confounded and dark'ned his Mind . They hurl'd him out , that which they call Summum Bonum , With a thousand Opinions that none could Attone 'um . Neither they , nor their Fathers before 'um , 'T is a wonder the Boys in the Streets did not Stone 'um . Rhadamanth● , Minos , Aeacus , Agamemnon , Sardanapalus . Diomedes , Ajax , Achilles , Ptolomy , Cyrus , Xerxes , Vlysses . Solon , Thales , Spensippus , Pittacus , Socrates , Aristippus . Aristotle , Euphorbus , Plato , Croesus , Crassus , Theophrastus , Cato . Are the obscurest Shades in all the Fry , Buried to all Eternity . Timon , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , the Regrater , Was both a Man and a Woman Hater , Just betwixt Wind and Water . Berthaldus Swart , from a Pot-gun , Cast Culverings that made Armies run . Chiron the only Fool , that chose to Try , Being Immortal , how to dye . Jupiter , Philus , Hospitalis , Sospitator , Altitonans , Nubitogens , Jusjurandus , Fulgurator . In his Youth was Frolick like a Colt , And laid about him with many a Thunderbolt . But now in his Age he 's dull and lazy , If not rather feeble and crazy . The Slavering Grey-Beard , Smacks and Busses , Tires Boys and Girls , Puppies and Pusses , A Pathick Cynedus , or Lustful Sporus , Would scorn to joyn with such an Effeminate Chorus . We purpose to call 'um all before us , Ask 'um why they Berogue and Whore us ? When they all sorts of Baseness commit , Without all Honesty , Manners , or Wit. What wise Man that could but see out of his Eyes , Would ever believe them to be the Deities ? Or honour them with any Sacrifice ? Inventors and Practisers of all Lyes . There he was most of all at a loss , There he found Ignorance in gross , Which made his Brains all in a toss . There was all you could possibly ghess , To make up the bundle of Happiness . Some were for Labours , Pains , and Scorns , Others for Cuckolds golden Horns . Some for all Jollity and Pleasure , Others for Gold and Silver , heapt measure , Jewels of all sorts , to make up their Treasure . Some for Virtue joyn'd with Riches , ( But I find none for Witches . ) Some had so little Wits , To pick up Crums , and lick Spits . But I suppose there 's not one in twenty , But had the wit to choose Pleasure and Plenty , Non datur vacuum , there 's no Place empty . Felicity therefore there must lull , Where all 's in store , where all 's full . Believe Philosophy you that wull , It hath been hitherto a Gull . All Atheism did once commence , From the Denial of Providence . Our Heads are full of dry Notions , Our Hearts void of Devotions , The Rack and the Wheel are our Promotions . Every Man now will be sure of his Trull , ( All his Learning , is but a Gull . ) And his Bardash , for Orpheus says , 't is no Bull. They that think 't is , have an empty Skull , 'T wil come to Kiss-Cow at last , Come Mull , Come Mull. We find by good Laws , that Adultery and Rapes , Murders , Incests , and all sorts of Escapes ; Could never be done by the Immortal Gods , But such as ought to be lasht with Infernal Rods. Old Beldam Rhea , forsooth , must run mad , For love of Atys , a prety Lad. His last Shift was to go to the Magicians , Zoroaster's Disciples , as to the best Physicians . So , by help of a Magick Spell , He got safely in , and out of Hell , And understood all their Intrigues very well . Alexander , and others , made their Addresses , To be install'd Egyptian Gods or Goddesses . In Egypt , it seems , 't was counted great odds , For Rome and Greece had Gentiler Gods . Isis , and Apis , and Osyris , Anubis , Horus , and Busyris . Besides Oxen , Dogs and Cats , Garlick and Onions , Mice and Rats . So 't was hardly worth the while , To be worshipped , for a God , at Nile . Bacchus got to be an Indian Numen , Who had his Thyrsus , to try Truemen . Cestus , what was it ▪ but a Switch , To prove Venus to be a Witch ? Tripos Oracle Undertakers , Were most likely Ranters and Quakers . Caduceus , Mercury's Wand , Of Ghosts Infernal had Command . A winged Heel'd Herald , was he a Drudge , To sweep Rooms , and on Errands Trudge ? A Thief , I have heard him often grudge . Pelop's Race had no Shoulder Vein , Like a pure Alablaster Grain . Alexander stinks of Sulphur in Hell , That boasted of his Aromatick smell . Euphorbus told a rowzing Lye , In Hell he had no golden Thigh . Empedocles minded to try his Skill , Came half roasted from Aetna's Hill ; So Fools pay dear for having their Will. Socrates feign'd a chearful Grace , By boldly looking Death in the Face . But at sight of Hell's vast Gulf , Cry'd like a Child , and howl'd like a Wolf . All Braggadoci'os , when they come there , Like Cowards fall into a Bodiless fear . Protesilaus wisht one Days respit , To see his new Spouse , and return at Night . Orpheus had the liberty , For his fair Wife Eurydice . Mercury jumbles all Ghosts together , Over the Stygian Lake in wind and weather . The Drink in the Lethean Bowl , Creates Forgetfulness to every Soul . None can distinguish Royal Stems , What Necks have been adorn'd with Gems , Or Skulls with Crown or Diadems . Beggars , wise and wealthy Blades , Fare all alike among the Shades . Beauty , is naked Bones , bald Pates , flat Noses , For them that us'd to be crown'd with Roses . Mausolus , the Prince of Car , With Thersytes writes , Par. The Mausolaeum and the Tub , Lye together of Equal Club. That Monument in Halycarnassus , Is of less Fame than the Hill Parnassus .

CANTO XVI . The last and most Bloody Act , I come now to Transact : That is , to condemn the Fact , A Treasons National Compact . I 'le prove this Rebellious Draught , To be more horrid than Witchcraft . Odi Fanaticorum Opinionem , Qui colunt Armatam Religionem . 'T is beyond the mischief of Fates , For Dunghil Slaves to contest with Potentates . Tho I be a Mistress of all Revels , Yet I never led the Dance to Rebels . Oh Horrid ! for the King's Protection , To take up Arms against Him was a Damn'd Projection . His Power against his Person to use , What call you this , but a Monstrous Abuse ? You may remember very well , There was never any Rebellion in Hell , 'T is beyond any Infernal Spell . Eastern Subjects their Kings Adore , Europe is turn'd a Rebellious Whore . For murdering Kings , you Rebellious Slaves , I 'le be the Sexton to dig all your Graves . Oh , you kill'd a King , I remember , The next Month after December . Villains you are upon Everlasting Record , No Princes for ever will take your Word , Nor suffer you to take up the Sword . Peace , Truth , and Plenty will never stay , If you once with the Militia run away , As you did that Fatal Day . Traytors that brake all just Oaths or'e and o're , You all Rotten at the Core , The Devil will never trust you more . I 'le sooner trust the Devil or the Turk , For they ne're did such Black Deeds work , Radamanthus give 'um the Jerk . Minos hang 'um up all by the Chin , For basely Betraying and Selling their King . Slash Aeacus lustily , and all the Furies , For the Ignoramus Juries . For all the Loyal Blood they have spilt , Run your Sword in their Guts up to the Hilt . Especially because the Murderers Guilt , Was cover'd with a Golden Quilt . Ne're was such a Rebellious Crew , Of such a Sanctified Hue , To all Vows and Oaths never true . I don 't like your Godly Painting , Nor your Sacrilegious Sainting . Kings , Priests , and Royal Branches , Cut down by your Swords and Lances . The worst of Murderers that ever spoke , Were they that hew'd down the Royal Oak . Ne're shew your Faces above Ground more , Hell dares trust you , no farther than the Door . Now Rail at Witches , who 'l believe you ? Had you more Kings to kill , 't would never grieve you . Your Rebellious Pates were surrounded , With Crowns and Mitres , by you confounded . Yet you in Villanies were so Fool and Knave Hearty , As to call your selves the Godly Party . I could damn you my self , with a very good Will , For all the Innocent Blood you did spill . Especially of Kings and Men the Best , You hatcht those Eggs in Hell's Nest . I conjure you to Answer at Pluto's Bar , For Twenty years Unnatural War , Which made Three Kingdoms stand a Jar. Loath'd by all People from far and near , While you Revel'd and made good Cheer . And put all the World in fear , Since you have paid for 't dear . A Curse is entail'd upon you all , In Beelzebub's Judgment Hall ; The like was never since the Fall . O sweet Princes , never more Trust Those Rebels and Murd'rers , that call themselves Just . Vizard , Hooded Saints , It is my Task , To throw off your deceitful Mask . Hell never made the like Uproar , As you did upon Heavens Score . You our-did all the Fiends of Hell , No Histories such Tragedies can parallel . Eighty Eight , and the Powder Treasons , Of White Devils had not so many Legions , Nor gave so many Sanctified Reasons . Therefore the Devil his Suit Commences , To such black Deeds , for making such fair Pretences . Who then can trust you , Live or Dead , That in such bloody Principles are Bred ? Day and Night I 'le haunt your Ghosts , Hang ye up upon Tainters and Posts . In Hell your Carkasses shall rost and fry , Wish for Death , but never dye , The Devil tells you the Reason why ; Because you made him a glorious King , For this Cheat the Worm shall ever sting . O thou Politick Mazarine , They say , this was a Plot of Thine . But I say , 't was the Rebels own Contrivance , Not without Mazarine's Connivance . So two Mastive Dogs fight , With hateful Heart , and hurtful Will , Intending each other to kill . An Enemy to both stands by , and sets them on , Glad if both were destroy'd and gone . Thus you gave too much occasion , For a Common Foes Invasion . Look to 't Brave and Loyal Men , Never to be Trepand agen . Twice in an Age ! for shame be Wise , Hatch not the Egs of a Cockatrice . I declare boldly against that black Deed , I wish there were no more of your Cursed Breed . Tho of Heaven I hope for no speed , Yet this makes my Heart bleed . So yet , never did Yours , For resisting the Higher Powers . I understand far better Things , No Subjects have Right to Judge Kings . Leave 'um to a Higher Throne , GOD is the Judge of Kings alone . From henceforth , Rebels , I bid you be gone , Your Companions , I 'le be none . We both in our Ways shall be Crost , And both to Hell's Dungeon must be Tost . I have protested against your Generation , But you shall have the greatest Condemnation . For my part , I 'le keep my Station , Leave all , but my own Abomination , And so I have finisht my Execration .

THE CLOSE . ‘ AS I 'm a Witch , as I 'm a Whore , ‘ I can Versifie no more . ‘ Now I 'm plung'd into this kind of Trash , ‘ I 've lost my Wits and all my Cash . ‘ Knock off then , for 't is impossible to have , ‘ A deadly stroke for every Knave . ‘ I lash at nothing , but Sins that are Swingers , ‘ For the rest , I scorn to foul my Fingers . ‘ He that offers to rowze me a Stitch , ‘ Shall feel the Vengeance of a Witch , ‘ And I 'le make him dye in a Ditch . ‘ I have thrown my Angry Pen away , ‘ 'Till I see , who dares Gainsay . Dixi.

Epilogue . ‘ I ' Le quite throw off my Vizor now , ‘ I 'le ride no more upon a Sow . ‘ I 've borrowed a Witches Phrase and Style , ‘ To damn Baseness all this while , ‘ 'T is to me a grievous Toil. ‘ This hath been counted Brave , ‘ Set a Knave to catch a Knave . ‘ A Villain by a Villain slain , ‘ Has least cause to complain . ‘ Pardon the Figure of a Witch and a Whore , ‘ I 'le prosecute this Allegory no more . ‘ I have laid on many a flash , ‘ By th' hand of as great a Witch as ever was . ‘ If Rascals won't Reform hereafter , ‘ Send 'um with a Vengeance to Tyburn's Slaughter . ‘ ( I pity neither Son nor Daughter , ) ‘ And let the Witches follow after . ‘ At the Gallows there will be Room , ‘ For all Base Fellows to receive their Doom . ‘ I have long seen , and suffered Evils , ‘ Of all sorts , from Men and Devils . ‘ This hath occasion'd after All , ‘ To make me dip my Pen in Gall. ‘ No man's Ruine I desire , ‘ All mens Amendment I require . ‘ All Worth and Honour I admire , ‘ Vice hath kindled my holy Ire . ‘ I 'le not crush a poor Hare in her Form , ‘ Nor will I tread upon a Worm . ‘ Let my Foes charge me , if they can , ‘ I 'le prove my self an Honest Man . ‘ By putting on a Witches Mask , ‘ I take the Witches Selves to Task . ‘ The Prospect of all sorts of Sin , ‘ Hath made my Honest Satyr Grin . ‘ Because he hath so often Frown'd , ‘ Nimrod's Hunters would run him a Ground . ‘ And Post him up and down the Town , ‘ Specially Men of the long Gown . ‘ In all this Personated Draught , ‘ I let fly at all that is Naught . ‘ For a Witches Expressions , to the Wise , ‘ I dare Apologize . ‘ Things contrary to all Law and Rule , ‘ Are perstringed by Ridicule . ‘ Why should not Honesty take Inspection , ‘ Of all sorts of Vices , for Correction , ‘ To save the World from further Infection ? ‘ I 'm tyr'd with raking in this Slough , ‘ Far more than they that hold the Plough . ‘ I fear I have been too large , ‘ Shall no more undertake such a Charge . ‘ I 'le busie my Self in the Practise of Right , ‘ An Honest Heart shall be my Delight . ‘ I 'le hide me close , in my Cell , all alone , ‘ All Sin and Misery to Bemoan . ‘ The World with both is Overgrown , ‘ And now , All my Seeds are Sown .

AN APPENDIX TO The Witches . FRank Rablais solid Works took not very well , But the F●ps hugg'd his Garagantua and Pantagruel . A Bawble pleases Fools , with a Bell , The same is done with a Bubble and a Shell . They that won't stir for a grave Tragick Dance , Will cut Capers , and Fly at a light Comick Romance . When sound Notions no Friends can make , Try , if Burlesque or Droll won't take , If not , Boy a Quart of Canary in the Mitre Score , I 'le trust Witch or Devil no more .

THE WITCH TO THE READER .

CANTO I. DO , Laugh , Democritus ; Heraclitus , Cry , 'T is a fine sight , to grin , and put finger in Eye . No Fools like the old Fools , for shame cease , Mad Shavers will do what they please . We read , that Birds , Beasts , and Trees of old , Spake , when Men durst not be so bold . Of Villany , and Tyranny the highest Strain , Is , to suffer none of Wrongs to complain . So to sin without Controll , Endures neither Check nor Droll ▪ This crosses the very Justice of Hell , Where none are punisht that do well . But where no Pen , nor Tongue , nor Hand Must move , there 's no Counsel nor Command , There Good and Bad are at a stand , That 's worse than Dis , or Fairy Land . Where there 's neither Satyr nor Droll . Murd'rers and Judges walk Cheek by Joll , For such States , let the Bell Toll . They that deserve an Objurgation , Sue Plaintiff in Action of Defamation , This Liberty undoes a Nation . Stifle all History and Record , From the Peasant to the Lord , Censure no mans Deed or Word . A fine World ! when to do any thing every man may be bold , And no Man of his Offence must be told . If this be allowed Indemnity , Why should not we Witches be free ? Can it be counted Sense or Reason , To hang them up , that find fault with Felony or Treason ? Shall the Law let go gross Offenders , And fall upon the honest Reprehenders ? Plague the Thrifty , and encourage the Spenders ? Then farewel the Trade of State-Menders . Do your worst Officers , says Tacebo , Hangman lacks work , says Non Placebo . It puts Wise men upon the Frets , To find Laws turn'd into Nets . The greatest Plague took up by the Factions , Is to plunge the Modest into chargeable Actions . The Janus Lawyers gather vast Fruits , By strangling the Quiet in Endless Suits . Put up your Injuries into your Sleeves , What the Eye ne're sees , the Heart ne're grieves . All the World hath cause to complain , Of the Delays of proud Spain . Me veny la morte di Spagna , at long running , For then to be sure 't will be slow a coming . That way is desperately suspected , That deserves , but refuses to be Corrected . What ever 's that Law , I can't understand , That banishes Informers out of a Land , And suffers Licentiousness to Command . There 's plenty of Traytors , Rogues and Whores , Where they admit of no Corrigidores . That Land swarms with Bandities and Tories , That breeds no Alcades or Commandatories . Letters of Mart or Represalia , Armies of Thieves stand in Battalia , To fill up the Fields of Pharsalia . It was thought of old , that none but Kings Were exempted from Satyrs Stings . But now every one that lies under a Hedge , Shall plead Immunity and Priviledge , And steal , if he can , the Golden Wedge . This sets all my Teeth on edge , If I Rob , no body need to be my Pledge . For now the proudest Knaves that e're Pist , Presume to do what they list . And , if nere so much mischief , all is Whist , And they 're already at it Hand to Fist . Rock all the Laws , say I , asleep , Or hurl their Books into the Deep . And out all Frogs and Toads will creep , But not an honest Man dares peep . If a True-hearted Body find fault , Tumble him into the Inquisition Vault , Of Hell , that is a perfect Draught . A true Informer , there let him dye , The Commonwealth won't endure a Spye . In Wickedness we 're ne're like to thrive , So long as there 's a Satyr alive . Nemo me lacessit impune , is the Motto of the Thistle , The Publick Good for this Priviledge , may go Whistle . Kings indeed are safe , under the Rose , But Subjects are in their own Clothes . They may , without a Fiction , Sin , free from Contradiction . If my rich Neighbour come to cut my Throat , As Pompey's was in the Egyptian Boat . I must stand still , and not find fault , Or else he 'l leave me not worth a Groat . Do not Parliaments to Kings complain , Of Grievances , and shall Subjects disdain . To be complain'd of , or punisht by Kings , Or , if need be , by Inferior Things ? If there be allow'd no Reprehension , Of Rebels there will be a general Comprehension , And that must be a damnable Invention . In all Commonwealths , at these Rates , No Censors of Manners , or Estates , No more need of Magistrates . Let us dance at Barly-Breaks , And refer all to the Fates . Tho we break one anothers Pates , And you may shut up Hell Gates . Yet every Gossip with her Mate , Shall never leave to lye and prate , Of them that are of highest state . Say , or do the Law what it will , A Womans Tongue will never lye still . Canting Saints call Satyrs Libels , Where find they that in all their Bibels . May Sins be rebuked , or may they not ? This Answer may suffice a Sot , That passes his Verdict over a Pot. ( A Fools Bolt is soon shot , ) But never understands What 's what . If Good may be cry'd up , evil may be cry'd down , With Honesty all over the Town . To teach to do Good , and eschew Evil , Comes not kindly from a Witch , or a Devil . When Vice is cry'd out against , none are abus'd , But only when Honest men are falsly accus'd . That 's Scandal and Libelling , therefore , To call a Spade a Spade ne're go behind the Door . Lawyers and Sects , leave your Canting , For all this Satyr is but a Witches Ranting . Philosophers and Poets play all the like Game , I wish all Ranters were sober and tame , So , I might get my self a Name . And this is all , I poor Witch intend , That every Rascal would amend , And so they , then me , might come to a better End . A grave , wise Debauchee , that soonest takes Pet , May be soonest caught in a Fools Net . A Capricious Ass , in my Apprehension , May be rid of his Folly , by a Fools Reprehension . A great Opiniator may come to my School , And soonest be cured by Ridicule , That Purge settles him upon the Close Stool . In these damnably daring , angry Times , Fops are fetcht over by ridiculous Rhimes . Of Vice there are divers ways of Perstringing , Some by Stroaking , some by Swinging . Some by Mildness , some by Fury , 'Specially when it comes to an Ignoramus Jury . Some in grave , solid , sober Sadness , Some in a holy Rage and Madness . Some in learned , solemn Tables , Some in lighter strains and Fables . Some from an Enemy , some from a Friend , All tending to the self same End . 'T is a strange Spirit , that winks at all Evil , And suffers men quietly to go to the Devil . They can't help it , they say , and they 're loath to speak , They wish'twere better , and their hearts do break , But the Vessel drowns , and they won't stop the Leak . Is this enough for Honest men to say , To see Murder committed , and sneak away ? They 'le not flownce into danger thick and thin , 'T is best to keep in a whole Skin . Is this Right , to maintain Mine and Thine , To go contrary to Justice , Humane or Divine ? Don't I see this plainly ? Yes , I do , as bad as you make me , And hate it too , or else the Devil take me . Malignant Humors won't endure to be stirr'd , A dull Jade kicks when he 's Spurr'd . Old Soars refuse to be Launcht , 'T is pain for twisted Guts to be Pauncht . I censure my own , and all other mens Sins , And lay , as for Vermine , strong Traps and Gins , ( That 's more than pricking with Needles and Pins . ) All in good earnest , though by a kind of Rhiming , Party-per-Pale , betwixt Ringing and Chiming , Variety of Changes not exactly Timing . Sometimes downright , sometimes contrary , According as my poor Wits chance to vary , 'T is better than to scum Cream , or Churn in my Dairy . Tho , when I speak like my self , 't is not altogether so clean , A Poet must do so , and all but Fools may know what I mean . I lash hardest when I make the least noise , And am most serious , when I play the most Toys . 'T is true in Me , Video Meliora , 'T is as true sequor Deteriora . In this , you must know , I demonstrate my self , As I am , and must be a damned Elf. The dull Readers understand me not Right , As Scholars do at the first sight . 'T is certain , in most things I am very Tight , And , it may be , I have hit the White . But 't is for your good , that I take all the Pains , That tho I lose , you may get all the Gains . I find Learned men are not so free , To rebuke Sin , as you perceive me to be , If they do well in this , Judge ye . They are shy and fearful , that 's plain , Of losing their Friends , Honour and Gain . This is no true Honesty I 'le maintain , I , tho a Witch , am of a Nobler strain . This is enough to convince Connivance , And this is the Reason of my Contrivance . For a Maiden Fancy this may fly , But the Devil a Maid am I. The World is grown to the height of all Evil , When none dare to tax Sin , but a Witch or a Devil . 'T is very inexcusable therefore , you see , Hypocrisie in the highest Degree . Sure all sorts of Vices in heaps lye Ram'd , When both Wise and Fools are not afraid to be Damn'd . 'T is an excellent Witches Observation , Incorrigibility destroys a Nation . The Prophane kind in their shame run on , While the Better sort stand and look on . What call you this , but perfect Collusion ? In some Body , and whither tends it , but to Confusion ? That which they hate , they that sit in the Chair , To suppress , take no Care . How then is it likely the World should well fare ? This great Fault , in my way , I don't spare . It may be I have suffered long , For doing Right , before I did Wrong . Therefore to Chide the rude Throng , I make this the burden of my Song . I wish the World were better grown , And I wish my self better , but the Fault 's my own . Therefore 't is others I bemoan , That for themselves never fetcht the least Groan . If you will understand me , I make Protestation , My plain meaning in this Execration , Is , of all that 's base , a full Detestation . To Purge out every Spring and Fall , A Lawless Distemper that 's Epidemical . As for Law , my Genius ever led me that way , But I could never endure to be hang'd by 't , I say , When greater Rogues scape , I count it foul Play . As for Philosophick Fools , I ever found fault with their two edged Tools , But I am not an Enemy to Schools . Gray Gravity it self can well beteam , That Language be adapted to the Theme . He that to Parrots speaks , must Parrotize , He that i●structs Fools , may act the Unwise . When States dishevel , and Laws untwist , Wise men hold their Tongues , Fools speak what they list . Si Natura negat , facit Indignatio Versum , Qualemcunque potest , 'T is no Sin to rehearse 'um ▪ O these horrid Rebel Dogs . That Kennel with Toads and Frogs ; In stinking Dykes , and Fenny Bogs , Will stir to Honesty no more than Logs . He that le ts fly among that Tribe , Is rail'd and ball'd at o're the World so wide , And every Varlet on his back shall ride . They may do all that 's bloody and base , And no body dares tell it to their Face . They shall smite Honest men , hip and thigh , Strangers , Friends , Neighbours and Standers by , But no body must offer to say , Black 's their Eye . All sorts of deadly railing Notes , And Curses belch from their poys'nous Throats . Plund'ring , Hanging , all sorts of Undoing , Are Virtues , while the Good Cause is a going . By Yea and Nay , in a word , They can do all things by the Sword . But if the just Law pinch 'um , they cry and roar at such Rates , As if no less than Hannibal were at the Gates , The Wicked undo the godly Mates . The only way to cure this Distemper , Is for Justice to watch and catch them Semper . Or else they are such cross , implacable things , And carry such deadly Venom in their Stings , That they will ruine Priests , Nobles and Kings . No wonder then , if poor Poets they kill , That of great Princes have had their Will. Devils in Dark act against Right , And appear Angels in Light , All things are carried by Favour , Malice , and Might . He that rebukes Sin knows to what he must trust , That is , to be Persecuted and Curst ; For my part I 'm bad enough , let 'um do their worst . I confess , for this Office , Innocents may Rue , But the Comfort is , they are Honest and True . But they that hate 'um and hurt 'um , are damnably Base , And so I shall boldly tell 'um to their Face . He that sooths , cringes , and collogues , Gets all the Honour , and all the Vogues . I confess , they may object against my Life , But against my Doctrine , they can have no Strife . Ovid's Muse was a Chast Madona , Lasciva est Pagina vita Bona. This is all they can say , 't is a Witch that does scold , But 't is against all sorts of Knaves , young and old , And , perhaps , none but a Witch durst be so bold . Others , 't is plain , are between hot and cold , And are afraid of losing their Gold . You may be corrupt , and you may be pure , Let them alone , and they 'l let you alone be sure . So you may both quietly march into Hell , By that means all will be well . Still , 't is the same thing , to rebuke Evil , Be it done , by Saint , Witch or Devil . If you be good , I have nothing to say , But praise you for taking the Right way : But if you choose the Cause that is Evil , I 'm ready to post you headlong to the Devil . Never stand , Shall I , shall I , railing or bawling , Let every one follow his honest Calling . 'T is my duty , tho a wicked Preacher , To strike at every false Over-reacher . Tho I fail , yet be you Just and True , To be sure I shall have my due . Is 't any hurt for me , that am Bad , to wish you better ? I may be a Knave and a good Bone-Setter . You may Rail at me , as you have begun , But what has the honest Poet done . Does he speak his own Words , or Mine ? Why do ye abuse him then for every Line ? Tax him for his life , if you can or dare , The best of you with him compare But because you can't , at his Fame you dart , The Devil , one day , will split you for 't . The Devil , one day , will give you a Fair Ring , And hang you up at the Cross called Charing . A Company of leud Hectors , that ne're did good , But always delighted in innocent Blood . To abuse and undo every Honest man , Endure it , that endure it can . This moves me to take their part , That are fairly wrong'd and griev'd at Heart . For others Sins , and their own Harms , This forces me to make use of my Charms : And to plague those that do them Wrong , This is the burden of my Song . What a Nest is there of Rogues and Whores , That turn all Honest men out of Doors ? When none take their part , In come We , To revenge all their Injury . We 'l hurt no Innocents , of honest Profession , But aim at the Men of all sorts of Transgression . I 've done so much harm to good Men in my days , I 'm resolv'd now to secure them and their Praise . I do confess my self to blame , For being a Witch , I deserve the Name : But for those that use Paints , Act Rogues , and profess Saints , And of Hypocrisie will endure no Complaints . I tell you , I cannot abhor them enough , That are more than Law or Conscience Proof , In Hell , there can be no worse Stuff . I confess , I 'm by force to Witchcraft confin'd , But they to all Villany are freely inclin'd . Goodness often comes in my mind , And to good Men I love to be kind . But they will neither be good in themselves , Nor suffer others to be good . What worser Elves ? The Devils and We are already damn'd , And hook in others with them to be sham'd , For fear Hell should not be sufficiently cram'd . In this , I 'm sure , I do well , To save as many as I can from coming to Hell . Especially to avoid this Gainsaying , That Men should go to the Devil by Praying , The same with , In Frost and Snow to go a Maying . I very well find the danger I am in , That can't repent me of my Sin . This makes me the more earnest to study to save , If I could , every Incorrigible Slave . I can baseness more to the life express , Than they that use it nevertheless . Because , I know , I give my Mind , To fetch up those that lag behind . Of all Vice I have ta'ne the true scent , More than those that never Repent ; To turn them into the Right way , Which they wilfully pass by every day . We are better natured than Fiends , 'Cause to Mankind we are better Friends . I may have as Wise , and as Honest Desires , And kindle as Zealous Fires As those that hang out a Fairer Sign , But never sell good Beer , or Wine . I could find in my heart , to break the Devils Score , And hurt Honest Men , no more . Every Single , Simple Imp , Shews himself , so much in the Crimp , As to Act Monk , and Play the Pimp . Vnus Invenit , Alius Pinxit , Vnus Cacavit , Alius Minxit . You 'l say , I use Ribaldry , Roaring , and Ranting , Poetick , Philosophick Canting ; But to Blaspheme or be Profane , I tell you I abhor that Strain . Tho I be out Nettle , and in Dock , You shall ne're find me at that Lock , I 'le be sure to leap over that Block . I may , and do , act several Parts , And Counterfeit in several Arts. But I have no Ill meaning to Beguile , Stab under the fifth Rib with a Smile , But to find out , and describe a Knave all the while . The Honest man , I take his part , Because I love him at my Heart , Because I know he will never start . The greatest Villains , Low and High , Can't but admire , love and fear Honesty . Yet they 're so base to do all the harm they can , To the True , Honest , Harmless man . Now this is the way that loaths me so much , For which I bear them all this Grutch : And when I can handsomly upon 'um light , I long to do 'um all despight , And it shall be cunningly out of sight . None can deal so well , nor be so Tight , As We , to be reveng'd of Malice and Might . When Clocks want Keepers , and Dyals want Light , All goes by guess , whither Wrong or Right . Seldom blind Archers hit the White , The Informer and Hangman have took their flight . A Wise man may wear a Fools Coat , An Honest man may be left not worth a Groat . He that speaks Truth shall lie in his Throat . If as Chast as Diana you 're call'd a leud Goat , If Wise as Pallas , they 'l say you Doat . A grave Musician may play a light Note , If you be a Lamb , they 'l cut your Throat . If this be all the fault you can find , 'T is to rebuke Sin , you know my mind , Every thing must be serv'd in its kind . You 're a degree from the Devil remov'd , If you once hate to be reprov'd . 'T is a sign you will never be good , That vomit and belch out Dirt and Mud. The crazy World will crack in all its middle Joynts , When both ends want their Parapoints . Say what you will , In totâ Naturâ rerum , Nil Justè prohibet dicere Verum . When all is done , except Truth may command , I know not how the World can stand . Then Reader , I 'le allow you a Bushel of Malt , If you 'l but afford me one grain of Salt . In short , I say to every Ignoramus Reader , From the Plow-Jogger to the Bar-Pleader . Let them follow my Rules , but not me for their Leader . Busie Momus Fumes and Swears , Rhimes fall together by the Ears , We shall ne're want Jealousies and Fears . I say , when the true Sense will bear it , Verse runs on all Fours , never fear it . But when the Cabal to carry double is cross , Then the Jade must be forc't to Joss , Rather than the Sense be at a loss . The Dancing Poetaster takes pleasure , To traverse the Stage in exact measure : But they that Buskin it in a Dram , Reckon strict Numbers but a Sham. Apothegms , Proverbs croud in now and then , Sophists and Legists bring in their Men. To do good Service other while , Upon occasion , out of Rank and File . So they use to Advance and Sally , March close , after a Rout , Rally , In heat of Fight , not stand shall I , shall I. No strict Commission for Orders to wait , The Fish is gone while you change the Bait. In Mood and Figure , Declension and Tense , Logicians and Criticks commence , Prerogative makes just Defence . Rhimers are more than common Greges , Poetae sunt Syllabarum REGES . My unconfined Muse disdains , Like a Slave , to be led in Fetters and Chains . Her Verse suppos'd to run the sweeter , When not clog'd with all Four-footed Meeter . But some are well pleas'd neither full nor fasting , Always over , or under-casting , Whose Judgments are never long lasting . Some Wits are never known to thrive , Never pleas'd , dead nor alive . In their Coffins they lye sullen , Because they lye scrubbing in Woollen . Some in their Graves , Riggle and Jiggle , 'Cause Boys and Girls o're them Laugh and Giggle . Others dogged , Mutter and Grumble , 'Cause on their Turfs Children Play and Tumble . But false Envies , endless Abuses , Can't supersede my Just Excuses . Sometimes I may tread a false Step , Over a Slough I may give a Leap . I do not Botch or Patch a Rhime , Hook in a Phrase to keep Time . Dramaticks in their Tragick Pride , Scorn to Numbers to be ty'd . In my Verse here and there a Notch , Rather than stitch it up with a Botch . A Poem ought to run as smooth in Reading , As a Lawyers Bill in Pleading , A Poet must not always be kneading . Some handsom Molds are soonest cast , By a kind of careless Hast . Sometimes the more Care , the more Wast , Festina lentè , all so fast . The greatest Stirrings cause most Bubbles , Sudden Inventions raise least Troubles . I read in curious Verse and Prose , ( Be it spoke under the Rose . ) Very small Learning , but great Fame , Meerly for the Author's Name . O you Dunce , down with your Hose , You deserve a whipt Britch , and a bloody Nose . Dare you abuse in bald Rhimes , The glorious Wits of the Times ? I understand better things , ye Slaves , I fall on none but Fools and Knaves . I tell you , I am something Nice , Choose Authors , not Florid , but Wise . A sleekt Oration , a starcht Story , Of Tom Trincalo , or John Dory ; Begets Attention at an Act , No Right , all matter of Fact . Scholars that in Arts commence , Courted by Harlot Eloquence , Great Wits for want of Wit flatter , Fucus of Words without Matter , I 'de as lieve hear a Magpy Chatter . One thing more makes Momus Frown , He says , I cry the Clergy down . He is a Rogue for saying so , To their Scandals I am a Foe . Their Strife , Riot , Blood and Pride , Rebellion , Covetousness I can't abide . That would be Infallibly Supreme , This is the meaning of my Theme . In Councils hardly can agree , Act most by Rigor and Aspertee ; Truly , these are no Clerks for me . Presbyter Jack prays and preaches Harty , Rebels , and calls Self the Godly Party . The Old Clergy for Ignorance and Pride , Nobles and Gentry are laid aside . The gallant Independent wins the Crown , Prays , Preaches , fights the Presbyter down . Then comes the Ship-shop-man and Petty-Fogger , The Praying , Holding-forth Plow-Jogger . Mov'd by Enthusiastick Call , Out Prays , out Preaches , out Fights 'um all . Such Cattel are Ferae Naturae , Disturb 'um and they 'l ne're endure ye . I loath such Clerks as are never good , Preach up Rebellion and Blood . A Mongrel Clergy that basely Flatter , Do any thing for a Two-peny Matter , These are the Men I bespatter . Hedge Priests , that dare strike the Marriage stroak , 'Twixt Brother and Sister under an Oak . In Parlors , Barns , Stables , pray and prate , Undermining Church and State , These are the Vermin I so much Hate . Creepers into Courts and Shops , Greazing their Fists , Cramming their Chops . In any thing , be 't ne're so Ill , They are ready to do your Will. But O , the Learned , Pious Tribe , Scorn to Flatter or take Bribe . These were ever in my Books , The rest , from me , have had wry Looks . A Clergy Elf I e're did hate , May the True Priests live in state . Those that are of Princely Spirits , That act Gentily ; Their rare Merits Deserve to Teach , deserve to Rule , The rest I count but Ridicule . The Learned Clergy I adore , Honour and Wealth become them more , Than other Men , on the same score . Sure , Long suffering by Foul Play , Hath drove me to this Angry Way , And now I 'm in , I can hardly stay . Primitive Saints did Preach and Pray , In homely Cells , out of Harms way . 'Till the Age of Constantine , The Clergy were Learned and Divine ▪ They never broke this Heart of mine : Who thought 't would e're be the Priests Doom , To Lord it in Imperial Rome ? The Emperor was High Priest , but since , The Priest is Emperor and Prince . Senatus , Populus Romanus , Sunt Clerus hodiè Insanus . Did ever Clerks till then aspire , 'Bove Crowned Heads to advance higher ? How came it into their Bald Pates , From rich Death Beds to screw Estates ? How came they first to cheat Wise Nations , With Purgatories and Transubstantiations ? D' ye think the Church can ever stand , When such wild Freaks the World command ? Brave Princes gull'd by Nasty Fryars , Whose Brats sit at other Mens Fires . That choose to lead such lazy Lives , With Concubines , not lawful Wives . Their Frantick Orders and Institutions , Are Nurseries of all Confusions . Trust them with Power and Wealth , when warm , You 'l find they 'l stick not to do all harm . Lawyers have much improv'd their Parts , But Clergy have outstript all Arts. Others are Ideots , if you mind 'um , The Virtuoso shall come behind 'um . What Matchiavels have they not cheated ? What Policies have they not defeated ? To tell Truth , I have been plaguily vext , They first turn'd me beside my Text. I compounded then to please my Mind , After I took all Learning in kind . But that I might not be at Loss , I divided the Pure from the Dross , Yet still came home by Weeping Cross . As all must , that with them ha' to do , To no purpose to throw an Old Shoe . Yet those that did me vex and teaze , Occasioned my Souls Ease . I resolv'd upon Virtues Praise , And to condemn Vice always . So they that weakned me all along , Against their Wills have made me strong , By discerning 'twixt Right and Wrong . And now I soar above their Heads , In Triumph ; they in shame go to their Beds . Better to Give , than to Receive , Better be Cheated , than to Deceive . Put to the Fret by Friar Dominick , No wonder I prov'd a little Cynick . Taken and kept upon Suspicion , Doz'd me in the Spanish Inquisition . The High Commission and the Doom , Darted from the Starry Room , Had like to a plung'd me to my Tomb. These were design'd for Knaves ; but now and then , Abuses fell upon Honest men . He that abounds in Sense Divine , Shall never stick at Thine or Mine . He that sits on the Triple Shelf , Shall be an Oracle to himself . Learning and Laws must from him spring , A Priest , a Prophet , Lord and King : And all must shrowd under his Wing , But let 'um watch his deadly Sting . Power and Wit must gladly buckle , Honour and Wealth under him truckle . The Private and the Publick State , Temporal and Eternal Fate , Must hang at such Mens Girdles ; their bare Nods , Are more than Princes Frowns or Rods. A Curse , or causeless Execration , Staggers and Thunderbolts a Nation . Towns , Cities , Kingdoms sore Afflicted . From Sacred Things Interdicted . 'T is more than Exile , Mines , or Slaughter , Or Interdiction of Fire and Water . Momus says , I take too much to be a Writer , That am no better than an old Sheep-Biter , Therefore , 't is just for all Scholars to slight her . Sirrah , Cockscomb , Jackanapes , Fool , Take heed of medling with an Edg'd Tool , I 'le set Thousands such as you to School . A Company of ugly Mongrel Currs , To bark at a Lady in her Silks and Furrs , And let a Lord scape in his Golden Spurrs . Every Mothers Son of Hobgoblin or Fairy , A scorn to Sluts of the Kitchin or Dairy , I 'le fetch you over with a Certiorari . I 'le set an old Petty●fogger or Parson , To Indite you for Barretre or Arson , Too him , too him , O brave Garson . I 'le make him Skice under the Whores Bed , His Mother , and not dare to shew his Head , Teach him to offer a Hen of the Game to Tread . Dogs , tho I be a Witch by Profession , Let me alone in my Honest Digression . Put up your dirty Libels and Packets , Or else I 'le let fly at your Thred-bare Jackets . Now ye have put me into this angry Mood , I 'm resolv'd to Rail , as long as Railing is good . And now y' have teiz'd me so and so , I 'le drive the Nail as far as it will go . Tho I be a Witch , 't is true , yet 't is my Resolution , To bring all the Rogues I can to Execution . I 'le leave this Manifesto to all Ages hereafter , I love Vertue , tho I 'm a Witch and a Witches Daughter , That was fairly hung upon Tyburn's Rafter . The Clergy rarely hang together , Never endure Wind nor Weather . Often distracted by a Feather , Their Shoes made much of Running Leather . Linsy-Woolsy are their Jumps . More than ordinary Frumps . They hate to think of Ropes or Burning , Drape de Berry will hold Turning . To Rule well they ne're could get the knack , Too oft they into Junto's pack : Till they come into their Huffs , And at last to Fisty Cuffs . Play kind good Fellows , go a Foxing , On a sudden all by the Ears a Boxing . Close Bickerings , Thwick Thwack , All ends in a Cup of Sack . But all this while never the more Friends , Still every Party for his own Ends , The Rich Laity for all must make amends . Besides all this , it is their Failing , They are strangely given to Railing , I wish all such to New England Sayling . Self opiniated and Proud , Into Sects and Factions crow'd , In Coventicles very loud . Like Seamen and Sheep , cry One and all , Right or Wrong to stand or fall . Therefore Kings wisely , as the Case stands , Keep all the Power in their own Hands ; For fear they should undo their Brothers , And be the Ruine of their Mothers . They cut them out their own Work too , And confirm all they do . This Policy Wise men find , For the benefit of Mankind . This prevents many a Flaw , In Civil and Ecclesiastick Law . This prevents Rebellious Heats , And all sorts of Spiritual Cheats : For if the Pen had its Will , The Sword should more Blood spill . Speak , speak all good men , Is not this true , Excepting the Ignoramus Crew . Of War , who were the Drums and Trumpets , But Romes and Geneva's Strumpets ? Hah , who lies in Ambuscado still , The Common-wealth would have its Will. Down went one Royal Oak , and now another Sprung from his Stock , is threatned , with his Brother . What the same Scene in the open Sun , Acted before this Age be half done ? So to be cheated of our Goods , Just so , once more to lose our Bloods ? Who in the Dark make Combinations , For Plundrings and Assassinations . And gild all over with Evasions , But Sectaries of all Perswasions ? I see my self so far outdone , I see such damned Courses run , And such counterfeit Webs spun . To leave my Bungling Trade , I am resolv'd , In Witchcraft ne're to be involv'd . It must be high time to give o're , I yield , I 'le be a Witch no more . But still I own the Golden Line , Of Clergy Learned and Divine . To Princes fit Guides and Tutors , Ambassadors and Prolocutors . Companions to Potentates , The Strength and Glory of all States . Do ye think me blind or dull , Senseless , or of a Fanatick Skull , Fit to be baited by every Bull ? He that says , I hate the Coat , Lies deep in his Sepulchral Throat . Try , make 'um Judges and Arbitrators , Specially , Heirs , Executors and Administrators . I 'le warrant 'um they shall Translate , and Convey Vast Lordships the clean contrary way . Scriveners are but Pingling Rats , These are the greedy devouring Cats . Flamens , Poets , Sophisticators , Augurs , Prognosticators . Counted Religious and Wise , All Arts to Monopolize . They might all be Priests and Kings , If they would mind Honest things , Now they prove the Devils Darlings . Suffer Selves to be bought and sold , Remain Dunces , young and old , And e're will at this rate , I dare be bold . Here and there you may espy A brave Soul , neglected lye . He is too Learn'd , and too Shamefac'd , Too Honest , he must be disgrac'd . Down with him , under Hatches in the Hold , Feed him with Scraps till he be Old . 'T is enough to make any honest Woman scold , To scratch and tear 'um I can be bold . Tush , I 'm an old doting Jade , that has no Brains , Think I to pretend to Juvenile Strains ? I cannot now take pains . Sirrah Dog , I 'le cut all that Rag , That dares to call me Doating Hag. Villain , Spirits ne're grow old , They keep their Everlasting hold . And hadst thou Wit , thou wouldest know , The Older , the Wiser they grow . To try then , what with your Genius Suits , I give you a Tast of my First-Fruits . In hopes of your Custom , I 'le give you a Spell , Take a Cast of my Office for a Handsell .

CANTO II. In fair Constantinople flew Justinian's Colours , Red and Blew . Both Marks of a Rebellious Crew , Never to their Master True . Italy spred her Fatal Signs , To Popes and Caesars , Guelphs and Gibellines , Both the Republicks Countermines . White and Black Standards display'd , The difference of Minds betray'd , Italy could ne're keep her self a Maid . For besides the Goths and Vandals Rapes , From Natives she made hard Escapes . Witness the Ravishers Cancelieri , From whence sprang the Bianchi & Neri ? None of these sine Instinctû Cleri , Florence , Pistoria with Sects Referti . Buon del monti , andVberti , Albizi also , and Ricei , Donati , Corch● , Cavalleri . Besides the Cursed Ammoniti , Outlaws , Tories and Banditi . Clergy and Popular Elections , Fill'd all with Factions and Sections . Michael di Lando , Wool-comber , in a Jeer , ( Like Massanello , ) made Gaufalonier . A handsom Medium to find , Go over Pont Asinine . Tell me , I pray , what rugged Storm , Tore the first Matter from the first Form . Tell me Seriò , non Joco , An ultima Sphaera sit in Loco . Resolve me , if you can , with a Wannion , How the Load-Stones force is quell'd by an Onion . Tell me 'twixt I and you alone , If Allom be a Juyce , or a Stone ? Watch and see , without Dispute , If a Thrush do Birdlime Mute . If a Coy-Duck , that Thief in Nature , Be not to the Common-wealth a Traitor . In all your Born , did y' ever know , If Horns well planted will grow ? Have Fishes Lungs , or do they breath , Or sleep , the Waters underneath ? If Lampreys and Vipers breed , Which must be the prevailing Seed ? Dic mihi , an Anima Mundi , Sicut Corpus , be in Formâ Rotundi ? Take all in Naturalibus puris , Vbietas convenit omnibus Creaturis . Conjunctorum est Solatium Sed Abstrahentium est Mendacium . Of a Square or a round Man , Aristotle or Plato , who 's the Profound Man ? If a free , voluntary Choice , For Middle or both Ends gives his Voice . And if it be a Mixt Action , Is it not a perfect Faction ? Of Sympathy and Antipathy , the True Reason , Was never found yet in its Season . 'Twixt Something and Nothing there can be no Middle , Pigs playing on Organs sute well with a Fiddle , I lack Sphynx to unfold ev'ry Riddle . If Syrens and Tritons be Fishes Mute , Neptune and Thetis are so without Dispute , As for Aeolus , he 's a rugged Brute . The true old Purple can never be found , The Philosopher's Stone is hid under-ground , False Phaenomena's abound . Philosophers can't agree , By what Species we see . Fee Counsel , to tell which is most fitting , By Intra or Extra-mitting , But let the Parliament be sitting . Amicitia inter Binos & Bonos , Inter malos , nec Amor , nec Honos . An purè Nihil cadat sub Conceptu , An Absolutum sit sine omni Respectu . Nothing dries sooner than Tears , Nothing betrays sooner than Fears . Swine upwards can't lift up their Eye , Cast them on their backs , they silent lye , Amaz'd to see the glory of the Skye . Court old Madam Trickmedainte , Especially Madam Governante . Charles the Fifth , so great a Man , And Parma's Prince , deny 't that can . Neither of them , more wise or good , For dying in a Capuchin's Hood . Aristotle's Question does reflect , Why Health , as Sickness , don't infect . In Felony and Treasons Case , A Staff has the power of a Mace . Areopagites , like wise Peers , Demurr'd Doubts for a Thousand years . When Greek Physicians shall learn Arts , Says Cato , they will kill all Hearts . Pythagoreans were lost in Slumbers , When they reck'ned Souls all Numbers , I believe they were all Fumblers . The Musicians strein high , Call the Soul Harmony . Search all the Planets Houses , to know , Who rob'd a Thatch Cottage here below . Find who is Lord of the Ascendant , Let him be Superintendant . Garcaeus of the Meteors hit it , If 't had been a Hair h 'had split it , No Body could better fit it . A noise i' th' Air precedes a Storm , Then good Angels strive to prevent Harm , Some for Cold weather , some for Warm . When first Matter was in her Prime , No body so much as talkt of Time . When Occult Qualities had no Bottoms , Then men began to think of Atoms . Matter , Form , and Privation , Principles of the whole Creation . But Mercury , Sulphur and Sal , Have turn'd them out for good and all . Why Learned men more copious are , Quintilian answers at the Bar. The Learned chuse the Best from needless Stuff , The Unlearned take all rough and enough . We read of Subterranean Sprights , That work in Minerals all Nights . But 't was no better than Play , For nothing was found done next day . To save Court Ladies , the Plot was laid , Nero to practice on Acte his Maid . He is a Scholar of a wise Reach , That learns and is able to Teach . Vulcan took Pett at the Athenian Schools , Told them they should be all Fools . But Pallas blest them with a Charm , That their Folly should do them no harm . At Siege of Thebes in the Baeotian Fields , All Captains bore their painted Shields . Only Amphialus a white Flag bore , Of Valiant Acts that had the greatest Score . Caesar was not for his own Ends , Died rather than suspect his Friends . The Gods , because of higher Fames , Call all things by their proper Names . Xanthus the Gods call Scamander , And so our poor Wits come to wander , We scarce know a Goose from a Gander . A Fly the Poet commended more , Than a Nemean Lion , or a Calidonian Bore ; What would he ha' done for Calirrohe his Whore ? Caligula courted with a round Sum , Demetrius in scorn he turn'd his Bum. If he will tempt me to Aspire , No less will do 't than his whole Empire . Ten Talents to give , might suffice a Commander , But Thirty's a Gift for Alexander . Jove plac'd the Gods upon their Settles , According to their several Mettals . That is , as Lucian scoffs , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , When by right it should be 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Tully was pernicious to Rome , Demosthenes was Athens Doom . In the whole Imperial Line , The Best and Learnedst was Antonine . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , And that 's a sign of no small one . Ships split oft on Rocks of Dice , More dangerous than those of Ice , Pardon a Gamester if he venter twice . Lucian's Cobler proudly dreams , Of no less than Golden-streams . What if it were the Golden-stone , 'T wou'd make us all , that Thing alone . Whose Primitive Tradition reaches , As far as Adam's first green Breeches . Ancients and Novelists bely us , Nil dictum , quod non dictum Prius . Who finds in Canonick Ruth , The nearer Antiquity , the nearer Truth ? 'Mong all the Nocturnal Apparitions , I meet Enthusiastick Visions . Take some in their proper Seasons , They are but Misprisions of Treasons ; But be sure look not for true Reasons . Offices first , soon swell into Merit , 'T is love in the Flesh , that was love in the Spirit , So Vices come Vertues to inherit . Champerty , Mayhem , Prison Rumpers , Burglary , Infangthef , Withernam , Bumpers ! Of Villanies I have seen such store . That I 'm resolv'd to see no more . Before I could discern them well , I was forc't to go down lower than Hell . There 's King-killing and Ranging , O're Land and Sea , Laws and States changing . There may be some Interludes , Allaying Everlasting Feuds . But Ecclesiastick Wars never fail , None offers to cut off the Entail . Heliogabalus would be the Sun , Married Vrania the Moon . Cornelius Agrippa , says the best Hero's , Were Bastards , Kings , and Cavalero's . Hercules kill'd the Lion Brood , That fell from the Moon in the Nemean Wood. Tantalus play'd an ugly Feat , Roasted his Sons for the Gods to eat . Ceres was cheated under his Bowre , Pelop's Shoulder to devour . The rest in horror fled , But restor'd him from the Dead , An Ivory Shoulder they decreed , For ever to that Noble breed . Palamedes while Troy besieg'd was , Invented Chess , Latrunculorum Tabula● . Apollo , that brave Titan , Of Gods the most a Gentleman . We never find him changing his Hue , To haunt after a Whorish Crue , His Muses were Chast , give 'um their due . Mercury , Moly did procure , Witches that Herb can't endure . Jupiter is painted without Ears , Regards not Mortals Cries nor Tears . The Phoenicians Gods of Old , Were laden with Purses of Gold . Daemons took their Lodging Hole , All together in the North Pole . The good and gentle Genii , In the milder South Pole lye . Omne malum ab Aquilone , What 's worse than a Northern Nebulone ? Goths , Vandals , Huns , Lombards , Heruli , Turks , Tartars , Normans , all unruly . Vulturs , all Females , breed behind , Conceive by the North and South Wind. A Lion Fever-sick we are assur'd , Certainly by an Ape is cur'd . The Rhincerote with one Horn , Is the true Vnicorn . The Female Viper in Coition , Destroys the Male without Suspicion , Of Treason , 't is but Misprision . Ericthonius found Coaches meet , To hide his Dragons Feet . Yellow Beards the Hebrews wore , Because the Golden Calf they did adore . Diogenes Plato's Man did mock , Homo est Animal Bipes , a Cock ! At the Antipodes what 's a Clock ? Plato's Soul was once in Euphorbus , Circa Minutias sapere , est Graecus Morbus . Frustrà sapit , qui sibi non sapit , Frustrà rapit , qui sibi non rapit , He was safe from the Guns , that lay hid in a Saw-Pit . Sententiaries , Casuists , Fall foul together with Clubs and Fists . Summists , Dictionarists , Index-Rakers , Muggletonians and Quakers . Ordinary Interlineary Glossators , Postillers , Conciliators , Are not Wisdoms Administrators . Spanish Empire , from East to West , Larger than Romans , and all the rest , You may choose Blindfold , bad 's the Best . Artemisia made a Tomb of Stones , But drank up her Husbands Bones . Paracelsus pretended high , Towards Immortality : Made Homuncio's , rais'd from Dead , Among Coachmen and Hostlers bred , Himself at Thirty buried . Procopius Arcana Historia , Invented and kept Lyes in Memoriâ . Branded justly ever after , For a base Traytor to his Master . Alexander made his way , Dragooning over India . Tom Coriot footed it two thousand Miles , Besides Way-bits and Kentish Styles . The King of France with twenty thousand Men , Went up a Hill , and so came down agen . Cartez made Animals , Machins and Gins , Moving by Screws , Elaters and Springs . Old Wizard Druis stampt the first Print , In the Samian , Sophist's Mint . Souls Transmigration from Men to Men , And so to Beasts and back agen . Actaeon's Dogs without Controll , Might eat up his Body , and drink up his Soul . From Bardus , Druis Boy came Sects , That Sang Diurnals and Gazets . Agathyrsi in Aristotle's time , Sang Laws in the Streets , when they were in their Prime . So others did , as is pretended , 'Fore ever Letters were invented . Their Musick Rules then 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 sounded , That now for Laws are expounded , So Words and things are oft confounded . The bare presence of a Bard , A Navy sayling could retard . One Brackman had power to command , Whole Armies to march or stand , So wise Men by Superstition are Trepan'd . Let him that has a mind to Travel , In Wales , see if he can find a Navel . The Natives from the Center running all , Themselves Borderers call . If this be true , then to this day , It must be Terra Incognita . Latin was Goth'd and Vandal'd , Hunn'd , Herulide , And every Language debauch'd beside ; Only the Welsh has no Affinity , With Strangers , but keeps her Virginity . The Gentry by the Hills secure , Possess their ancient Blood pure . What think ye , may they not be Welsh Rat● , Whose young , as soon as born , are big with Brats ? Need provide store of Cambrian Cats . The Fool did his Downfall create , By sawing the Bough on which he sate . The famous Hero's , that dy'd in Wars , Mounted up to the Fixed Stars . So the great Saviours of Nations , Shine in Celestial Constellations . Trust to no man , Fool or Wise , Most things are in a Disguise . What think y' of th' Inventors of counterfeit Cases , T' impose on the World with brazen Faces ? But if you would be truly Wise , You must your own Judgment Exercise . Roman's scorn'd Kings should go before 'um , But the Gods reserv'd to themselves Regem Sacrorum . Tho no Kings allow'd for the Forum , Yet they kept Fecial Reges Armorum . Hyena's change , like Sister and Brother , Males one year , Females another . They must needs rise very soon , To see Elephants worship the Moon . Hippocentaurs try'd their Forces , The first that backt and pac'd Horses . The Bull of Marathon did roar , When baited by the Caledonian Boar. If Fanaticks were set to work , They would quickly bring in the Turk . Ransack all the Druggists Stalls , There are more Poysons than Cordials . Rifle the World from Head to Tail , What Species yet did ever fail ? Natura nunquam fecit Saltum , Nil asperius Humili , cum surgit in Altum . Millions of years , if you stay , The Mountains will be all washt away . Ordinary depths of Sea and Sand , Answer ord'nary heights of Land . As high as are the lofty Mountains , So low are the vast Ocean's Fountains . Campania , a Paradise for Store , The same with Terra di Lavadore . How is it with some Criminals , Where all Parties are Principals ? All have there due , Nego Majorem , For Major suspendit Minorem . Set a Fool in a Glass to spy The left Testicle of a Fly . Muscipula voids Issue from her Chaps , Into Water , and then up them laps . The sleeping Dolphin never winks , But from Top to Bottom sinks . But pray what should the Lion ail , When sleeping , he wags his Tail . Mahomet's Horns , would you did know , Were made of Half Fire , half Snow . A cloudy Pearl'in a Dove's Paunch , Comes forth the Siege , with an Orient glance . A Spanish Cock-Chick , I can tell , That was heard to crow in the Shell . To deprive men of the benefit , The Root is cropt , call'd Devil's Bit : Therefore give him a Dose of Aloes and Gall , In his Cup squeez Toads , Guts and all . Young Neanthus was torn by Hounds , For playing on Orpheus Harp Jarring sounds . Elian's Frogs-Head of Flesh and Blood , Drew after it a Body of Mud : Hel tell you , he saw it , 't was no Lye , From Naples to Puteoli . Historians a Lye can't choak , The Druids Religion came from Abram's Oak , Was not Aristotle an Ass , For breaking his sleep with a Bowl of Brass . Homer dy'd like an Owl , in a Fret , For not unfolding the Fisher-mens Net . A Beaver in Hunters sight , for the Nonce , To hinder their gain , Bites off his Stones . Four Ages , of Gold , Silver , Lead and Brass , Was th' Invention of some doating Ass . The Hop takes the Suns course best , By winding on Poles , from East to West . 'T was no less than the Oil of Gold , That fed th' Everlasting Lamp of old , For Lyes we 're all bought and sold . Tygers the Africans did annoy , Which not being able to destroy ; By solemn Act they all Decree , No Tygers should in Nature be . Tom Nash , his Pasquil and Marforius , The Counter Scufflle more Censorious : These answer'd Martin-Mar-Prelate better , Than Whitgift's Admonition Letter . Aurelia Allobrogum , the more 's the Pity , Contends with Rome to be the Mother City . Compare which of them hath done least good , Observe which of them hath shed most Blood . Paris Mattins , Sicilian Evensong , The Powder-Plot , the Parliament Long. This Presbyterian Association , The Dissenters Assassination . Nero , Sirnamed Tiberius , Got the Nick-name of Biberius : Licinius Muraena , so I clept , 'Cause for a Lampry's death he wept . The Luxurious Roman Squire , Will see his Fish expire , And drest immediately at the Fire . Of Prodigies Rome's Stories tell us , Croco sparsa Domus of Metellus . Accipenser serv'd up at a strange rate , With Garlands and loud Musick in state . A Horse , a Consul and Priest was made , A Man , a Woman , the Roman Trade . Romans were famous to the Skyes , Greeks were renowned for Lyes . Too near a Wolf take heed how you come , If you see him first , he 'l strike you dumb . From hence conclude Lupus in Fabulâ , Or write it down for a Lye in Tabulâ . Moles have no Eyes , Elephants no Joynts , They sleep leaning on Trees , false Points . Pelican for her Young makes holes in her Breast , 'T is as true as all the rest : For she has a broad Flat Bill , And could not do 't though she had a Will . Our Bodies are weak , Ergo , for Fornication , The Gloss says , there 's no Deprivation . We 're all now of less Age and Stature , Ergo , there is a decay in Nature . Sun draws near th' Earth an Hundred and Thirty Degrees , In time the Tropicks are like to Freeze . Mountains decay , Stars fail , Some already downwards hang their Tail . Cassiopeia's new Star is long since retir'd , Comets above the Moon much admir'd . Venus has chang'd her Colour , Bigness and Shape , Sol drinks all Vapours , Stars for Thirst gape . But what if the Dragon or great Bear , To our Horizon should draw near , 'T would put us all to a Bodily Fear ? Besides Retrogradation , Trepidation , and Libration , Fright Mortals with a General Transmutation . Sayling more speedy from East to West , Confirms the Truth of all the rest . Harpaste , Seneca's Wives Fool , At Noon , stumbled at a Joyn'd Stool . Blind , as she was , her Reason mark , She complain'd the Room was dark . Precise Plato held a Community , 'Twixt Men and Women with Impunity . Lycurgus made all his Laws for War , If for Peace't had been better far . Solon cancell'd old Debts , the more , Under pretence of doing good to the Poor . Aristotle , for poor mens helps , Bids drown their Children , like Whelps . Coelum vetus est Paganum , Da novum nobis Christianum . Ordeal Law , by Fire and Water , The like by Duels or Manslaughter , Of Truth found out no such matter . Lypsius de Potoribus & E●oribus , Should add , De Orbis Raptoribus , Consult Joannes de Temporibus , Cave , Annibal est prae Foribus . Where Beauty and Wisdom are fixt , They are good single , but better mixt . Fair Vertue shines with greater Grace , When adorn'd with Beauties Face . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . Homer's Iliads in a Nut-shell lye , The Rhodian Ship was hid by a Fly . Vitellius had two Thousand Fishes , And ten Thousand Birds serv'd up in Dishes , To Gluttons with Cranes-Throats , if they had their Wishes . Six hundred Ostriches for Heliogabalus , An Ox for Hercules , if not Fabulous . Smydrides rested from all Fears , Saw no Sun-rising for Twenty years . There is , I think , no great Wit , But of some mixture does admit , Of Madness , now and then a fit . Penelopes Geese eat the Wheat in her Hall , She dream't the Eagle kill'd them all The Thief is born under Mercury's Planet , Under Venus , the Letcher can't withstand it , Murderer under Mars , if you understand it . Mahomet's Doctrine of the Bow-string , Sad Notes upon the Hangmans Low-string . Mark Antony and Cleopatra his Mate , Strove t'outvye in Charge and State . Antony's Supper , of vast Expence , Th' Egyptian Queen did Recompence . She call'd her Slave to fetch a Cruse Of Vinegar , as for common use . Took a Pearl pendant from one Ears tip , Dissolv'd , and turn'd it o're her Lip . O 't was a costly Vain-glorious swallow , From t'other Ear a second was to follow : But that the Judge stay'd her , Saying , Madam , y' have won the Wager . The Jewel sav'd , they did divide , To adorn Venus in her highest Pride . Jewels of such invaluable Worth , Th' Orient ne're before or since brought forth . Clodius , Aesop the Tragaedian did such a Feat , But 'fore they died wanted Meat . Attalus to Seneca commended a Bed , Where was no Print from Foot to Head . Made him , rather than please his Gusts , To feed on Herbs and hard Crusts . The Pompeians , the Night before Pharsalia's Fight , did Sing and Roar . Casting Dice with unlucky Hands , For Romes Honours , Houses , Lands . The next Day , they all fell or fled , Divide no Lions Skin 'till he be dead . Wherefore was Famous Machiavel , Condemn'd by Churchmen to the Pit of Hell ? 'T was , because of the Pope he ne're spake well , Therefore Curse him by Book , Candle and Bell. Drink up the Morning-Star , and if you ben't a Clown , Be bold to drink th' Evening-Star down . Martin the Cryer , calls Witches away , The Owls screetch , the Dogs bay , Toads croak , and Catamountains play . Snatch Flesh , Foam the Night-Ravens Maws , Wolves Hair from off Mad-Dogs Jaws , Seize the Ass out of the Lions Paws . Hiena's , Basilisks , Mandrakes , Vipers , Adders , Serpents , Snakes . Take Horned Poppy , Cypress Brooms , Wild Fig-Tree , that grows on Tombs . Cast up dead Ashes and Sand , The Moon and Stars you may Command . Darkness , Devils , Heav'n and Hell , Must be subject to your Spell . I call you Once , I call you Twice , Headlong ye come if I call you Thrice . Make your Cross Dances Hip to Hip , Back to Back , Hee l to Heel , Trip. Charm all the sorts of deadly Drugs , Carry the Devils by the Lugs , Sting 'um with Insects and Bugs . In Cradles suck Childrens Breath , And gripe the old Nurses to Death . Full fourteen years the Maid of Mewrs , Fasted , liv'd by the smell of Flowrs . 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Sun bene olet , Quod oculus non ridet , Cor non dolet , The Parasite is Fee'd , Offa monet . 'T was Tully's unsavoury proud Encomium , O Fortunatam , natam , me Consule Romam . Dioclesian , Brother to Sun and Moon , His Name 's up , may lye a Bed till Noon , Give the Baby Pap in a Spoon . All Clients that come or go , Have the Honour to kiss his Toe . Ev'n grave Augustus had his Frisk , Acted Apollo , very Brisk . Clad his Guests in Antick Dresses , In state , like Gods and Goddesses . Dominus Deus noster Jubet , Domitianus , quicquid Lubet . Numen Vestrum , Perennitas Vestra , Saluted so in the Orchestrâ . Augustus's Statue , Cheek by Joll , Jussel'd Jupiter in the Capitol . Of Scaurus's Theatre , Fame Thunders As of one of the World's Wonders . Caligula's Bridge , three Miles long , From Putzol to Biuly , very strong . Tables of Murine , Onyx Stone , Cups of Crystal , Pearls , all one . Such was the Luxury of old , Even to Stool-Pans of Gold . Bibitur in Conchâ , says Strabo , Vitreo bibit Ille Priapo . Coelatures , Bosses , Emblems of Apri , Stantes extrà Pocula Capri. African , Citron Trees for Tables , Sustentatque tuos , Aurea Mensa Dapes . Patinarum Paludes , They had their Wishes , To swim up to the Ears in Dishes . Gallus Cestius to Supper Invited , By Tiberius , was Delighted . With Rarities overbaited , By naked Maids that on them waited . Ganymeds , Exolete Carpet Knights , Bearded , overgrown Catamits . To Ravish all in Dignitatibus , An Office erected A Voluptatibus . Apricius , so Rich and Proud , For 's Kitchin Nine Millions allow'd . At last , after all his Carving , Poys'ned himself for fear of Starving . Ingeniosa Gula , Ransacks Air , And Earth and Sea , for Bills of Fare . New farrowed Sows Paps , Italian Mushrooms , Fools Caps . To cool their Wine Egyptian Snow , Samian Cakes Baked slow . Cocks-Treddles , Guilt-heads , Livers . Fool , Florentine that Quivers . A whole Goat slic'd , and stew'd in shivers , Fesula's , Peacocks Brains , blended , Phoenicopter's Tongues , the World 's well amended . At this rate it may soon be Ended , The Worms will be well Befriended . Six Thousand Lampreys Caesar bought , For Triumphs better Fed than Taught . Oysters the biggest , of the Lake Lucrine , The best Rellish were Rutupine . The true Shoar they can Primo Deprendere Morsu , Green Finn'd , and as big as a Horse-shoe . Lucullus had a deep swallow , Call'd Tully and Pompey to sup in Apollo . Minerva's Bucklet , call'd Vitellius's Platter , For Belly , not Brains , full of rich Matter . Whole Patrimonies vast and stable , Wholly consum'd at one Table . Hyppocrates had a tedious Walk , From Pole to Pole in a day to stalk . They that nourish Jealousies and Fears , Their Office is to carry Guts to the Bears . Sparrows tread Eight times in an hour , Pigeons draw Venus Chariot Bowre . Phydias's Scambre , Grass-hopper , Bee of Brass , Rarities , with Archimede's Sphere of Glass . A single Raisin-Stone , Was the death of poor Anacreon . Empedocles in Aetna's Smoak , Like a-Fool , himself did choak . Euripides dy'd in Disgrace , Eat up by the Curs of Thrace . The Eagle gave Aeschylus a Spell , Dropt on his bald Pate a Tortoise Shell . Arcadian Nonasius Waters , Could be contain'd in no other quarters ; But only in an Asses Hoof , The coldest Creature that is , by proof . At the famous Battel of Tours , Thousand Saracens fell in few hours . Ebroven Major Domo in Clothair 's Raign , Got first the Power Soveraign . Charles Martell , next of the same place , Won the Crown from Chilperic's Race . Hugh Capet descended from the Book , By the Sword the Scepter took , For the true Right you may go look . Gauls were the ancient Colonels , Druids brought Learning from their Cells , I wonder who the Devil invented Spells . If our Senses first deceive us , Of all true Science they bereave us , No certainty can be of Skill , Nor no true Liberty of Will. 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , Experience In a Quack , is a great Offence , From whence all Mistakes commence . Diverse Occurrences have diverse Respects , And some come to miss by their Neglects , 'T is hard to know which makes the true Effects . Apollo pray'd to Cea●e , A lasting Plague that was in Greece . His Answer was very hollow , To double the Altar of Apollo . Fools are always plump and fair , The Reason is , they take no Care ▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 , we find , True , because Cupid is Blind , Plutus is just so in his kind . Fools go before , and Wise behind , Gold more than Wisdom most men mind . At the unlacing of a Buck , Ceremonies us'd for sake of Luck . A Gentleman , no Butcher , on his Knees , His Hat off , lays the Beast on the Lees. A Cutter for the purpose , that parts The Entrals by Mysterious Arts. All in deep silence , as a Sacrificer , Divides , and Inspects , and is never the wiser . The Greek in empty Theatre sits Laughing , The German in full Flagons quaffing . Fools , Ideots , unconcern'd in all things . Wise men take a care in small things . Chymists bewitch'd spend all in Profundis , Quia mutant Quadrata Rotundis . Charles Martel , a Gospel Propagator , The first Tithe Impropriator . Cain began the first Duel , Goths and Vandals alike Cruel . A Wise man only is secure , Tho the most harm he endure . The most unworthy to see Day , Feel the Sun 's brightest Ray. He that looks round about all things well , Is likest the most Truths to tell . In Words to sport , in Sentences to sleep , Is , with sober Learning , to play Bo-peep . Many Curious Arts , Tonanti Sono , But the true Wise man cryes , Cui Bono ? Great Volumes run a great way , 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 . A great Cry , and a little Wool , Danaid's Tubs are never full , A Spider's Web curiously wrought , Proves at last good for nought . There are more Things than Words , I dare say , And Words are doubtful every way . Therefore a Wise man minds the Scope , Lets himself down Precipes by a Rope ▪ And still distinguishes with Care ▪ That in all things he may come off fair . Hair-brain'd Fools mind Sport and Drinking , But ne're regard Study or Thinking . Therefore they never understand , Because they ne're had their Wits at command . Let Truth be what it will , Pleasure and Gains , Are the only Objects of their Pains . Flashes of Fancy they most mind , Therefore their Reasons are never true nor kind . And if they can of Oratory blow the Bellows , Among Sots , they count Selves , and are counted brave Fellows . Thus I , a poor Witch , can Faults sit and spye , And if I complain , they tell me , I lye . Alas ! I am a poor ignorant Female Soul , And how dare I Learned Men controul ? Tho I have got little , but Meat , Drink and Clothing , I have not been so long in the World for Nothing . Women that have their Tongues at Command , May order their Brains , if they will understand . Women may learn , as well as Men , To Read , and Meditate , and handle their Pen. But these Fops and Sots , whom I so justly Rebuke , Ne're gave their minds to handle a Book . Drink , Roar and Whore , or plod upon Dirt , Or in Pride and Bravery flirt . Not minding Souls or Body's Health , Uncapable to serve the Common wealth . Devouring the Fruits of the Ground , Doing of good can ne're be found . I like not these unlucky Generations , That follow nought , but the World's Fashions . The sooner these Varlets go off the Stage , The sooner we hope for a Civiler Age. These things have mov'd me to so much Rage , To see so few to Vertue engage . And now I shall be call'd a Wolf or a Bear , They 'l force me to shed many a Tear : But they shall know I keep this Resolution , To hold Truth , and stand Persecution . Mine is the Fate of Priests and Kings , To do Good , and suffer Evil things . Base Rascals , Rail , and hurt what you can , I 'le still take the part of an Honest man . You make my Heart ake , you make me Sweat , I scorn you , I scorn you , be you never so Great . I am an Old Witch , is all your Note , You 'l make me go in a Thred-bare Coat . The Law is against Witches , I confess , But they may tax your Baseness nevertheless . It may be left upon Record , You ne're deserv'd a Witches good Word . Still you bawl , I 'm a Witch an be hang'd , Still I cry , you are Rogues an be Damn'd . But I 'le give you the slip , and Repent for the Nones , And leave you to the Devil to pick all your Bones . Money , my Hearts , if you have any , Broken or Whole , for a Parting Peny . FINIS .

ERRATA . SOme lay all Crimes upon Fate , the King of Terrors , But that won't suffice to Excuse my Errors , For , my Spirit 's Ingenious , and I do Confess , As I am a Gentleman , I can do no less . If I have let slip a few Words too Notorious , Vse for them your Index Expurgatorius . And when you find I have playd Vnlawful Frisks , Spare not to Stab them with your Obelisks . But in all I have Done or Said , Pray , Gentlemen , use me kindly , like a Maid . Pardon my Faults , Fair Reader , then , And Correct the Printers with your Pen.