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Scarecrow to boys, the breeding woman's curse,
Has yet a strange ambition to look worse ;
Confounds the civil, keeps the rude in awe,
Jests like a licens’d fool, commands like law. 270

Frighted, I quit the room, but leave it so
As men from Jayls to execution go;
For hung with deadly fins I see the wall,
And lin’d with Giants deadlier than 'em all: 275
Each man an Askapart, of strength to toss
For Quoits, both Temple-bar and Charing-cross.
Scar'd at the grizly forms, I sweat, I fly,
And shake all o’er, like a discover'd spy.

Courts are too much for wits so weak as mine:
Charge them with Heav'n's Artill’ry, bold Divine!
From such alone the Great rebukes endure,
Whose Satire's facred, and whose rage secure:
'Tis mine to wash a few light stains, but theirs

To deluge sin, and drown a Court in tears. 285
Howe'er what's now Apocrypha, my Wit,
In time to come, may pass for holy writ.

Notes. Ver. 274. For hung with deadly fins] The Room hung with old Tapestry, representing the seven deadly sins.

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