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So much as at Rome would serve to have thrown
Ten Cardinals into the Inquisition ;
And whispers by Jesu fo oft, that a
Pursuevant would have ravilh'd him away
For saying our Ladies Psalter. But 'tis fit
That they each other plague, they merit it.
But here comes Glorious that will plague them both,
Who in the other extreme only doth
Call a rough carelesness, good fashion :
Whose cloak his spurs tear, or whom he spits on,
He cares not, he. His ill words do no harm
To him; he rushes in, as if Arm, arm,
He meant to cry; and though his face be as ill
As theirs which in old hangings whip Christ, still
He strives to look worse; he keeps all in awe ;
Jests like a licens'd fool, commands like law.

Tyr’d, now I leave this place, and but pleas'd fo
As men from goals to execution go,
Go, through the great chamber (why is it hung
With the seven deadly fins ?) being among

Sweeter than Sharon, in immac'late trim,
Neatness itself impertinent in him,
Let but the Ladies smile, and they are bleft:
Prodigious ! how the things proteft, proteft:, 255
Peace, fools, or Gonson will for Papists seize you,
If once he catch you at your Feu! Yesu!

Nature made ev'ry Fop to plague his brother,
Just as one Beauty mortifies another.
But here's the Captain that will plague them both, 260
Whose air cries Arm ! whose very look's an oath:
The Captain's honeft, Sirs, and that's enough,
Tho' his soul's bullet, and his body buff.
He spits fore-right; his haughty chest before,
Like batt'ring rams, beats open ev'ry door:

And with a face as red, and as awry,
As Herod's hang-dogs in old Tapestry,
Scarecrow to boys, the breeding woman's curse,
Has yet a strange ambition to look worse;
Confounds the civil, keeps the rude in awe, 270
Jefts like a licens'd fool, commands like law.

Frighted, I quit the room, but leave it so
As men from Jayls to execution go;
For hung with deadly fins I see the wall,
And lin'd with Giants deadlier than 'em all :

275 Note. VER. 274. For hung with deadly fins] The Room hung with od l'apeitry, representing the leven deadly fins. P.

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Those Askaparts ', men big enough to throw
Charing-Cross for a bar, men that do know
No token of worth, but Queens man, and fino
Living ; barrels of beef, flaggons of wine.
I shook like a spied Spie-Preachers which are
Seas of Wit and Arts, you can, then dare,
Drown the fins of this place, but as for me
Which am but a scant book, enough shall be
To wash the stains away : Although I yet
(With Maccabees modesty) the known merit
Of my work lefsen, yet some wise men shall,
I hope, esteem my Writs Canonical, .


A Giant famous in Romances. P.


Each man an Askapart, of strength to toss
For Quoits, both Temple-bar and Charing-cross.
Scar'd at the grizly forms, I sweat, I Ay,
And shake all o'er, like a discovered spy.

Courts are too much for wits so weak as mine:
Charge them with Heaven's Artillery, bold Divine !
From such alone the Great rebukes endure,
Whose Satire's sacred, and whose rage fecure :
'Tis mine to wash a few light stains, but theirs
To deluge sin, and drown a Court in tears. 285
Howe'er what's now Apocrypha, my Wit,
In time to come, may pass for holy writ.


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