Who makes a Truft of Charity, a Job,
And gets an Act of Parliament to rob :
Why Turnpikes rife, and now no Cit nor Clown
Can gratis fee the country or the town:
Shortly no lad shall chuck, or lady vole,
But fome excifing Courtier will have toll.
He tells what ftrumpet places fells 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 Wooodward's patients, fick and fore,
I puke, I naufeate, yet he thrufts in more:
Trims Europe's balance, tops the statesman's part,
And talks Gazettes and Post-boys o'er by heart.
Like a big wife at fight of loathsome meat
Ready to caft, 1 yawn, I figh, and fweat.
He knows who had fold his land, and now doth beg
A licence, old iron, boots, fhoes, and egge-
Shells to tranfport; fhortly boys shall not play
At fpan-counter, or blow-point but shall pay
Toll to fome Courtier; and wifer than all us,
He knows what lady is not painted.
He with home meats cloyes me. 1 belch, fpue. fpit,
Look pale and fickly, like a Patient, yet
He thrufts on more, and as he had undertook,
To fay Gallo-Belgicus without book,
Speaks of all States and deeds that have been fince
The Spaniards came to th' lofs Amyens,
Then as a licenc'd fpy, whom nothing can
Silence or hurt, he libels the great Man;
Swears every place entail'd for years to come,
In fure fucceffion to the day of doom:
He names the price for every office paid,
And fays our wars thrive ill, because delay'd:
Nay hints, 'tis by connivance of the Court,
That Spain robs on, and Dunkirk's still a Port.
Not more amazement feiz'd on Circe's guefts,
To fee themselves fall endlong into beasts,
Than mine to find a subject stay'd and wife
Already half turn'd traitor by furprize.
I felt th' infection slide from him to me,
As in the pox, fome give it to get free;
Like a big wife, at fight of loathed meat,
Ready to travail: fo I figh, and sweat
To hear this Makaron talk: in vain, for yet,
Either my humour, or his own to fit,
He like a priviledg'd spy, whom nothing can
Difcredit, libels now 'gainst each great man.
He names the price of every office paid,
He faith our wars thrive ill because delaid;
That offices are intail'd, and that there are
Perpetuities of them, lasting as far
At the last day; and that great Officers
Do with the Spaniards fhare, and Dunkirkers.
I more amaz'd than Circe's prisoners, when They felt themselves turn beafts, felt myself then,
And quick to fwallow me, methought I faw
One of our Giant Statutes ope its jaw.
In that nice moment, as another Lye
Stood just a-tilt, the minifter came by.
To him he flies, and bows, and bows again,
Then, close as Umbra, joins the dirty train.
Not Fannius' felf more impudently near,
When half his nofe is in his Prince's ear.
Becoming Traytor, and methought I faw
One of our Giant Statutes ope his jaw,
To fuck me in for hearing him: I found
That as burnt venemous Leachers do grow found
By giving others their fores, I might grow
Guilty, and he free: Therefore I did show
All figns of loathing; but fince I am in,
I must pay mine, and my forefathers fin
To the last farthing. Therefore to my power
Toughly and ftubbornly 1 bear; but th' hower
Of mercy now was come: he tries to bring
Me to pay a fine to 'fcape a torturing,
And fays, Sir, can you fpare me-
-? I faid, Willingly; Nay, Sir, can you fpare me a crown? Thankfully I
Gave it, as ranfom; but as fidlers, ftill,
Though they be paid to be gone, yet needs will
Thrust one more jigg upon you: fo did he
With his long complimental thanks vex me.
But he is gone, thanks to his needy want,
And the Prerogative of my Crown; fcant
VOL. III.
1 quak'd at heart; and ftill afraid, to fee
All the Court fill'd with stranger things than he,
Ran out as faft, as one that pays his bail,
And dreads more actions, hurries from a jail.
Bear me, fome God! oh quickly bear me hence
To wholefome Solitude, the nurse of sense:
Where Contemplation prunes her ruffled wings,
And the free foul looks down to pity Kings!
There fober thought purfu'd th' amusing theme,
Till Fancy colour'd it, and form'd a Dream.
A Vifion hermits can to Hell transport,
And forc'd even me to fee the damn'd at Court.
Not Dante dreaming all th' infernal state,
Beheld fuch fcenes of envy, fin, and hate.
Bafe Fear becomes the guilty, not the free;
Suits Tyrants, Plunderers, but fuits not me:
His thanks were ended, when I (which did fee
All the Court fill'd with more strange things than he)
Ran from thence with fuch, or more haft than one
Who fears more actions, doth haft from prifon.
At home in wholefome folitarinefs
My piteous foul began the wretchednefs
Of fuitors at court to mourn, and a trance
Like his, who dreamt he faw hell, did advance
Itfelf o cr me: fuch men as he faw there
1 faw at court, and worfe and more. Low fear
Becomes the guilty, not th' accufer: Then,
Shall I, none's flave, of high-born or rais'd men
Shall I, the Terror of this finful town,
Care, if liv'ry'd Lord or fmile or frown?
Who cannot flatter, and deteft who can,
Tremble before a noble Serving-man ?
O my fair mistress, Truth! fhall I quit thee
For hu fing, braggart, puft Nobility?
Thou, who fince yesterday haft roll'd o'er all
The bufy, idle blockheads of the ball,
Haft chou, on Sun! beheld an emptier fort,
Then fuch as fwell this bladder of a court?
Now pox on those who fhew a Court in wax!
It ought to bring all Courtiers on their backs:
Such painted puppets! fuch a yarnish'd race
Of hollow go-gaws, only dress and face!
Such waxen nofes, ftately ftaring things-
No wonder fome folks bow, and think them Kings.
Fear frowns; and my mistress Truth, betray thee
For th' huffing, braggart, puft nobility?
No, no, thou which fince yesterday haft been,
Almost about the whole world, haft thou seen,
O fun, in all thy journey, vanity,
Such as fwells the bladder of our court? I
Think he which made your Waxen garden, and
Traufported it from Italy, to stand
With us at London, flouts our Courtiers; for
Juft fuch gay painted things, which no fap, nor
Tafte have in them, 'ours are; and natural
Some of the ftocks are; their fruits bastard all.
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