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Wild to get loose, his patience I provoke,
Mistake, confound, object at all he spoke.
But as coarse iron, sharpen'd, mangles more,
And itch most hurts when anger'd to a sore;
So when you plague a fool, 'tis still the curse,
You only make the matter worse and worse.
He past it o'er; affects an easy smile
At all my peevishness, and turns his style.
He asks, 'What news? I tell him of new plays,
New eunuchs, harlequins, and operas.

He hears, and as a still with simples in it,
Between each drop it gives, stays half a minute,
Loth to enrich me with too quick replies,
By little, and by little, drops his lies.

[shows,

Mere houshold trash! of birthnights, balls, and
More than ten Hollinsheds, or Halls, or Stowes.
When the queen frown'd, or smil'd, he knows; and
A subtle minister may make of that:
[what
Who sins with whom: who got his pension rug,
Or quicken'd a reversion by a drug:

Who wastes in meat, in clothes, in horse, he notes;
Who loveth whores *

He knows, who hath sold his land, and now doth beg
A licence, old iron, boots, shoes, and egge-
Shells to transport;

*

** ** shortly boys shall not play At span-counter, or blow-point, but shall pay Toll to some courtier; and wiser than all us.

He knows what lady is not painted. Thus

He with home meats cloys me. I belch, spue, spit,

Look pale and sickly, like a patient, yet

He thrusts on more, and as he had undertook,

To say Gallo Belgicus without book,

Speaks of all states and deeds that have been since

The Spaniards came to th' loss of Amyens.

Like a big wife, at sight of loathed meat,
Ready to travail: so I sigh, and sweat

Whose place is quarter'd out, three parts in four,
And whether to a bishop, or a whore:

Who having lost his credit, pawn'd his rent,
Is therefore fit to have a government:
Who, in the secret, deals in stocks secure,
And cheats th' unknowing widow and the poor:
Who makes a trust of charity a job,

And gets an act of parliament to rob:
Why turnpikes rise, and now no cit nor clown,
Can gratis see the country, or the town:
Shortly no lad shall chuck, or lady vole,
But some excising courtier will have toll.
He tells what strumpet places sells for life,
What 'squire his lands, what citizen his wife :
At last (which proves him wiser still than all)
What lady's face is not a whited wall.

As one of Woodward's patients, sick and sore, I puke, I nauseate, yet he thrusts in more:

To hear this makaron talk: in vain for yet,
Either my humour, or his own to fit,
He, like a priviledg'd spie, whom nothing can
Discredit, libels now 'gainst each great man.
He names the price of every office paid;
He saith our wars thrive ill, because delaid:
That offices are intail'd, and that there are
Perpetuities of them, lasting as far

As the last day; and that great officers
Do with the Spaniards share, and Dunkirkers.
I more amaz'd than Circe's prisoners, when
They felt themselves turn beasts, felt myself then
Becoming traytor, and methought I saw
One of our giant statues ope its jaw
To suck me in for hearing him: I found
That as burnt venemous leachers do grow sound
By giving others their sores, I might grow
Guilty, and be free: therefore I did show
All signs of loathing; but since I am in,
I must pay mine, and my forefathers sin

Trims Europe's balance, tops the statesman's part,
And talks gazettes and postboys o'er by heart.
Like a big wife at sight of loathsome meat,
Ready to cast, I yawn, I sigh, and sweat.
Then as a licens'd spy, who nothing can
Silence or hurt, he libels every man ;
Swears every place entail'd for years to come,
In sure succession to the day of doom:
He names the price for every office paid,
And says our wars thrive ill, because delay'd;
Nay hints, 'tis by contrivance of the court,
That Spain robs on, and Dunkirk's still a port.
Not more amazement seiz'd on Circe's guests,
To see themselves fall headlong into beasts,
Than mine to find a subject stay'd and wise
Already half turn'd traitor by surprise.
I felt th' infection slide from him to me;
As in the pox, some give it to get free;
And quick to swallow me, methought I saw
One of our giant statues ope its jaw.

To the last farthing. Therefore to my power
Toughly and stubbornly I bear; but th' hower
Of mercy was now come: he tries to bring
Me to pay a fine to 'scape a torturing. [ingly;'
And says, Sir, can' you spare me? I said, Will-

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Nay, sir, can you spare me a crown?' Thankfully I Gave it, as ransom; but as fidlers, still,

Though they be paid to be gone, yet needs will
Thrust one more jigg upon you: so did he
With his long complimental thanks vex me.
But he is gone, thanks to his needy want,
And the prerogative of my crown; scant
His thanks were ended, when I (which did see
All the court fill'd with more strange things than he)
Ran from thence with such, or more haste than one
Who fears more actions, doth hast from prison.

At home in wholesome solitariness

My piteous soul began the wretchedness

In that nice moment, as another lie Stood just a-tilt, the minister came by. To him he flies, and bows, and bows again, Then, close as Umbra, joins the dirty train. Not Fannius' self more impudently near, When half his nose is in his prince's ear. I quak'd at heart; and, still afraid to see All the court fill'd with stranger things than he, Ran out as fast as one that pays his bail, And dreads more actions, hurries from a jail. Bear me, some god! oh quickly bear me hence To wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense! Where contemplation prunes her ruffled wings, And the free soul looks down to pity kings! There sober thought pursu'd th' amusing theme, Till fancy colour'd it, and form'd a dream. A vision hermits can to hell transport,

And forc'd ev'n me to see the damn'd at court. Not Daute, dreaming all th' infernal state, Beheld such scenes of envy, sin, and hate.

Of suitors at court to mourn, and a trance
Like his, who dreamt he saw hell, did advance
Itself o'er me; such men as he saw there
I saw at court, and worse and more. Low fear
Becomes the guilty, not the accuser: Then
Shall I, none's slave, of highborn or rais'd men
Fear frowns: and my mistress, truth, betray thee
For the huffing, bragart, puft nobility?
No, no, thou which since yesterday hast been
Almost about the whole world, hast thou seen,
O sun, in all thy journey, vanity,

Such as swells the bladder of our court? I
Think he which made your waxen garden, and
Transported it from Italy, to stand

With us, at London, flouts our courtiers; for Just such gay painted things, which no sap, nor Taste have in them, ours are; and natural Some of the stocks are; their fruits bastard all.

Base fear becomes the guilty, not the free;
Suits tyrants, plunderers, but suits not me:
Shall I, the terror of this sinful town,

Care, if a livery'd lord or smile or frown?
Who cannot flatter, and detest who can,
Tremble before a noble serving-man?
O my fair mistress, truth? shall I quit thee
For huffing, braggart, puft nobility?

Thou, who since yesterday hast roll'd o'er all
The busy, idle blockheads of the ball,

Hast thou, oh Sun! beheld an emptier sort,
Than such as swell this bladder of a court?
Now pox on those who show a court in wax!
It ought to bring all courtiers on their backs:
Such painted puppets! such a varnish'd race
Of hollow gewgaws, only dress and face!
Such waxen noses, stately staring things--
No wonder some folks bow, and think them kings.
See! where the British youth, engag'd no more,
At Fig's, at White's, with felons, or a whore,

'Tis ten a clock and past; all whom the Mues,
Baloun, or tennis, diet, or the stews
Had all the morning held, now the second
Time made ready, that day, in flocks are found
In the presence, and I (God pardon me)
As fresh and sweet their apparels be, as be
Their fields they sold to buy them. For a king
Those hose are, cry the flatterers: and bring
Them next week to the theatre to sell.

Wants reach all states: me seems they do as well
At stage, as courts: all are players. Whoe'er looks
(For themselves dare not go) o'er Cheapside books,
Shall find their wardrobes inventory. Now
The ladies come. As pirates (which do know
That there came weak ships fraught with cutchanel)
The men board them: and praise (as they think) well,
Their beauties; they the mens wits; both are bought,
Why good wits ne'er wear scarlet gowns, I thought

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