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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 citiaen 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 nanseate, 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, becanse 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 stow 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,
To the last farthing. Therefore to my power
At home in wholesome solitariness
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 Fannins' 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 pursn'd th' amusing theme. Till fancy colour'd it, and form'd a dream. A vision hermits can to hell transport, And fore'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 ray 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;
See! where the British youth, engag'd no more, At Fig's, at White's, with felons, or a whore,
'TU 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 bny them. For a king Those hose are, cry the flatterers : and bring Them next week to the theatre to sellWants 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 franght with cutchanel) The men board them: and praise (as they think) well, Their beanties; they the mens wits; both are bought. Why good wits ne'er wear scarlet gowns, I thought
Pay their last duty to the court, and come
* That's velvet for a king !* the flatterer swears;
Wants reach all states: they beg but better drest,
Painted for sight, and essene'd for the smell,
* Dear countess! you have charms all hearts to hit!' And * sweet sir Fopling! you have so much wit!'
This cause, these men, mens wits for speeches bny,