Who having loft his credit, pawn'd his rent,
Is therefore fit to have a government:
Who, in the fecret, deals in ftocks fecure,
And cheats th' unknowing widow and the poor:
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 fhall 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:
And laft (which proves him wifer still than all)
What lady's face is not a whited wall,
151
As one of Woodward's patients, fick, and fore,
I puke, I nauseate,----yet he thrusts in more :
Trims Europe's balance, tops the ftatefman's part,
And talks gazettes and poitboys o'er by heart,
Like a big wife, at fight of loathsome meat, 156
Ready to caft, I yawn, I figh, and fweat.
A licence, old iron, boots, fhoes, and egg-
Shells to tranfport;
fhortly boys shall not play
At fpan-counter, or blow-point, but fhall pay
Toll to fome courtier; and wifer than all us,
He knows what lady is not painted. Thus
He with home meats cloyes me. I belch, fpue, fpit,
Look pale and fickly, like a patient, yet
He thruits on more, and as he had undertook,
To fay Gallo-Belgicus without book,
Speaks of all ftates and deeds that have been fince
The Spaniards came to the lofs of Amyens.
N 3
Then as a licens'd fpy, whom nothing can
Silence or hurt, he libels the great man;
Swears ev'ry place entail'd for
years to come, 160
In fure fucceffion to the day of doom:
He names the price for ev'ry 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 guests,
To fee themselves fall endlong into beasts,
Than mine, to find a fubject ftay'd and wife,
Already half turn'd traitor by surprise.
I felt th' infection flide from him to me,
As in the pox, fame 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 fpie, whom nothing can
Difcredit, libels now 'gainft each great man,
He names the price of ev'ry office paid;
He faith our wars thrive ill because delaid;
That offices are intail'd, and that there are
Perpetuities of them, lafting as far
As 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
*Whom we call an afs, the Italians ftyle maccheroni.
And quick to fwallow me, methought I faw
One of our giant ftatutes ope its jaw.
In that nice moment, as another lie
Stood just a-tilt, the minifter came by.
To him he flies, and bows, and bows again,..
Then, clofe as Umbra, joins the dirty train.
Not Fannius' felf more impudently near,
When half his nose is in his prince's ear.
Becoming traytor, and methought I saw
One of our giant ftatutes ope his jaw
To fuck me in for hearing him: I found
That as burnt venemous leachers do grow
By giving others their fores, I might grow
Guilty, and he free: therefore I did how
All figns of loathing; but fince I am in,
I must pay mine, and my forefathers fin
To the laft farthing. Therefore to my power
Toughly and ftubbornly I bear; but th' hour
Of mercy now was come: he tries to bring
Me to pay a fine, to 'fcape a torturing,
And fays, Sir, can you spare me---? I faid, Willingly;
Nay, Sir, can you spare 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
His thanks were ended, when I (which did see
All the court fill'd with more ftrange things than
I quak'd at heart; and still afraid to fee
All the court fill'd with franger things than he,
Ran out as fast, 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 folitude, the nurse of sense:
185
Where Contemplation prunes her ruffled wings,
And the free foul looks down to pity kings!
There fober Thought purfu'd th' amufing theme,
Till Fancy colour'd it, and form'd a dream.
A vifion hermits can to Hell tranfport,
And forc'd ev'n me to fee the damn'd at court.
Not Dante dreaming all th' infernal ftate,
Behold fuch fcenes of envy, fin, and hate.
Bafe Fear becomes the guilty, not the free;
Suits tyrants, plunderers, but fuits not me : 195
Shall I, the terror of this finful town,
Care, if a liv'ry lord or fmile or frown?
Who cannot flatter, and deteft who can,
Tremble before a noble ferving man?
Ran from thence with fuch, or more hafte than one
Who fears more actions, doth hafte from prifon.
At home in wholefome folitarinefs
My piteous foul began the wretchednefs
Of fuiters at court to mourn, and a trance
Like his, who dreamt he faw Hell, did advance
It elf o'er me: fuch men as he faw there
I 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
Fear frowns; and my miftrefs Truth, betray thee
For th' huffing, bragart, puft nobility?
fair mistress, Truth! fhall I quit thee 200 For huffing, braggart, puff'd nobility? Thou, who fince yesterday haft roll'd o'er all The bufy, idle blockheads of the ball, Haft thou, oh fun! beheld an emptier fort, Than fuch as fwell this bladder of a court? Now pox on those who thew 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 drefs and face! Such waxen nofes, stately staring things---No wonder fome folks bow, and think them kings. See! where the British youth, engag'd no more At Figs, at White's, with felons, or a whore,
No, no, thou which fince yesterday hast 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 Transported it from Italy, to ftand
With us at London, flouts our courtiers; for
Juft fuch gay painted things, which no fap, nor
Taste have in them, ours are; and natural
Some of the stocks are; their fruits baftard all,
'Tis ten a clock and paft; all whom the mues,
Baloun, or tennis, diet, or the stews
Ver. 206. Court in wax!] A famous fhow of the court of France in wax-work.
*A fhow of the Italian garden in wax-work, in the time of King James I.
er. 213. At Fig's, at White's,] White's was a noted ga
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