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Not fo, Sir, I have more.
Under this pitch
He would not fly; I chaf'd him: but as Itch
Scratch'd into smart, and as blunt Iron groun'd
Into an edge, hurts worfe: So, I (fool) found,
Croffing hurt me. To fit my fullennefs,
He to another key his ftyle doth dress;
And asks what news; I tell him of new playes,
He takes my hand, and as a Still which stayes
A Sembrief, 'twixt each drop, he niggardly,
As loth to inrich me, fo tells many a ly.

More than ten Hollenfheads, or Halls, or Stows,
Of trivial houthold trash: He know, he knows

When the Queen frown'd or smil'd, and he knows what

A fubtle Statesman may gather of that;

He knows who loves whom; and who by poifon

Hafts to an Offices reverfion;

Who wastes in meat, in clothes, in horse, he notes,

Who loves whores

He knows who hath fold his land, and now doth beg A licence, old iron, boots, fhoes, and egge

Shells to tranfport;

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But as coarse iron, fharpen'd, mangles more,
And itch moft hurts when anger'd to a fore;
So when you plague a fool, 'tis ftill the curse,
You only make the matter worse and worse.

He paft it o'er; affects an easy smile
At all my peevishness, and turns his style.
He afks, "What News? I tell him of new Plays,
New Eunuchs, Harlequins, and Operas.



He hears, and as a Still with fimples 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.
Meer houfhold trafh! of birth-nights, balls, and shows,
More than ten Hollingsheads, or Halls, or Stows.
When the Queen frown'd, or fmil'd, he knows; and

A fubtle Minister may make of that:

Who fins with whom: who got his Penfion rug,
Or quicken'd a Reversion by a drug:

Whofe place is quarter'd out, three parts in four,
And whether to a Bishop, or a Whore:



Who having loft his credit, pawn'd his rent,
Is therefore fit to have a Government:
Who in the fecret, deals in Stocks fecure,
And cheats th' unknowing Widow and the Poor:
Who makes a Truft or Charity a Job,
And gets an Act of Parliament to rob:


fhortly boys fhall 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. Thus He with home meats cloyes me. I belch, fpue, spit, 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' loss of Amyens.

Like a big wife, at fight of loathed meat,
Ready to travail: fo I figh, and fweat
To hear this Makaron talk: in vain, for yet,
Either my humour, or his own to fit,
He like a privileg'd fpie, whom nothing can
Difcredit, libels now 'gainst each great man.
He names the price of ev'ry office paid;
He faith our wars thrive ill because delaid;


2 Whom we call an Afs, the Italians ftyle Maccheroni. VER. 151. What Lady's face etc.] The Original is here very humourous. This torrent of fcandal concludes thus, And wiser than all us

He knows what Lady

the reader expects it will conclude,-what Lady is painted. No, juft the contrary,

what Lady is not painted, fatirically infinuating, that that is a better Proof of the goodness of his intelligence than the other. The Reader


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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 wiser still than all)
What Lady's face is not a whited wall.

As one of Woodward's patients, fick, and fore,
I puke, I nauseate,-yet he thrusts in more:
Trim's Europe's balance, tops the statesman's part,
And talks Gazettes and Poft-boys o'er by heart.
Like a big wife at fight of loathsome meat
Ready to caft, I yawn, I figh, and sweat.
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,
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:





fees there is greater force in the use of these plain words, than in those which the Imitator employs. And the reafon is, because the fatire does not turn upon the odiousness of painting; in which cafe the terms of a painted wall had given force to the expreffion; but upon the frequency of it, which required only the fimple mention of the thing.

VER. 152. As one of Woodward's patients,] Alluding to the effects of his ufe of oils in bilious disorders.

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 Circes prifoners, when
They felt themselves turn beafts, felt myfelf then
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 laft farthing. Therefore to my power
Toughly and ftubbornly I 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 said, Willingly;
Nay, Sir, can you spare me a crown? Thankfully I
Gave it, às 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; scant
His thanks were ended, when I (which did fee
All the Court fill'd with more ftrange things than he)



VER. 167. fall endlong] The fudden effect of the transformation is frongly and finely painted to the imagina

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