The pillory: or a dialogue betwixt Roger L'Estrange and Nat. Thompson This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B28122 of text R213216 in the English Short Title Catalog. Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 6KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 2 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B28122 Wing P2239A 99825687

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 Early English books online text creation partnership. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B28122) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 207829) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1956:22) The pillory: or a dialogue betwixt Roger L'Estrange and Nat. Thompson 1 sheet ([2] p.) printed for J. Charles, [London : 1682] Verse - "Alas, poor Nat! dear brother, how dost do?". A satire on the Popish Plot. Imprint from colophon. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.

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 eng L'Estrange, Roger, -- Sir, 1616-1704 -- Early works to 1800. Thompson, Nathaniel, d. 1687 -- Early works to 1800. Popish Plot, 1678 -- Early works to 1800. Political satire, English -- Early works to 1800. eebo The pillory: or a dialogue betwixt Roger L'Estrange and Nat. Thompson n/a 1682 2 887 4 0 0 0 0 0 45.1 D The rate of 45.1 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the D category of texts with between 35 and 100 defects per 10,000 words. 2014-06 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2014-07 Sampled and proofread 2014-07 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2015-03 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
THE PILLORY : Or a DIALOGUE betwixt Roger L'Estrange and Nat. Thompson . Hodg . ALAS , poor Nat ! dear Brother , how dost do ? What , are the Judges turn'd Phanaticks too ? Th' old-fashion'd Wooden Ruff they 've made thee try ; And this is all thou gett'st by Loyalty . St. Jaques save's ! if these damn'd Whiggish Laws Entrap the very Tygers of the Cause , How shall poor Towzer now secure his Stones , Or gnaw his Contribution Marrow-bones ? Nat. Leave off your whining : Is it thus you pay The Supererrogation of the day ? And is 't for this my brazen Face defies As many Eggs as ere I vended Lies ? Go call the Monster Heraclite , and then Your humble , kind , admiring Clergy-men , With your old Oaken Argument dispute , And knock 'em down , if they 'l not contribute . Let none ( on Excommunication ) dodge With their Lord God , the great Almighty Hodge . Whoever sneaks to Hell , or bravely damns Let all their Off'rings bring to Bishop Sam's . Thus since for you h' has felt so many a Patt , Pray raise a Fund for meritorious Nat. If Priestly Word no more can Faith obtain , Let Cassock new-redeem'd , be pawn'd again . Nay , last dear Guiny too shall pack away , Reserv'd in Pouch for Tavern , Wench , and Play . Delays are dangerous ; act with speed , or I Can tell who had a finger in the Pie . Hodg . What , meaning me Sir ? All my Guards advance ! I see th' Apostate Dog is hir'd by Prance . If my own Mother should against me roar , Her Son would be the first to call her Whore . A Whig ! a Whig ! a Whig ! 't was his intent To affront , and undermine the Government . The Fundamental Laws he means to change , And be a greater Rogue than Master ' Strange . With such fat thumping Lies he Lards a Tale , As even spoils my Observators Sale , And Saturday , if that would end the strife , Would swear , he ne're was Pillory'd in 's life . Nat. No common Villain such a feat can do : For that 's a Task ( almighty Hodg ) for you , Who laugh at all the toys of time and place , And damn your self at Church with a good Grace . Smirk crys all 's Gospel ; yet advice I 'de crave , If he 's the greater Fool , or you the Knave ? Your Ipse dixit does it : Ne're contend , L'Estrange , the Great has said it : There 's an end . Hodg . Poor creeping Rascal , cope not then with me , So much above thy match in Roguery . Base third-rate Sinner , who canst nought devise , But turns a Broker to the Faction's Lies : Who ne're canst take it till by all 't is found , But catchest Slander at the third rebound . Behold a Monstrous , Wonder-working Knight , That hang'd himself , then 'cause it took not right Swang'd into th' Fields , and Stabb'd himself for spight . Live errant Knights we 've heard of o're and o're ; But who e're knew dead errant Knights before ? Nat. And thou my Son ! Nay , then my hope 's in vain If Knaves fall out , true men their own will gain . For this ( ungrateful Towzer ) have I born Whole showers of Kennel dirt , and vulgar scorn . Was it for this I play'd the Fool , to be A Mark for the inraged mobile . To pocket up fat Dabbs , and greasie Blows , And spoil a serviceable Face and Nose ; Basely do Pennance in the open Air , And thrust my gracious Snout through shriving Chair ? For this was your poor Demy-Martyr ty'd , To sup such Cawdles as the Whigs provide , Whilst saucy Prentices salute his Chapps With Stones , and Carrots-●eads , and ●●●●●p-●ops ▪ Must my Cats-foot the firy Chesnut draw Out of the Coals , to save your Worships Paw ? After all this , poor Nat. must be forsaken , So you , Curmudgeons can but save your Bacon . So an old envious Hag , when ought has crost her ▪ Learns to repeat the Devil's Pater-noster . And then , if Whiggish Neighbours she 'd distress , To great Old-Nick presents her humble Address . For dear Revenge dire bloody Bonds she gives , To serve with Life and Fortune whilst she lives . Hell's Majesty his black Tribunal leaves , And with his wonted goodness her receives : Teaches her in light Egg-shells safe to Sail , And let 's her sweetly kiss his Royal — Tail . But when the unbelieving Witch is shent At the Assizes ( or the Parliament ) , The Boe-peep Fiend ( a Rogue ) plays least in sight , And coldly bids the Lady fair , Good-night .

LONDON : Printed for J. Charles . 1682.