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So first to preach a white-glov'd chaplain goes,


With band of lily, and with cheek of rofe,

Sweeter than Sharon, in immac'late trim,
Neatness itself impertinent in him.

Let but the ladies fimile, and they are bleft:

Prodigious how the things protest, protest:


Peace, fools, or Gonfon will for papifts feize you,

If once he catch you at your fefu! Jesu!
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,
Whofe air cries arm! whofe very looks an oath :
The captain's honeft, Sirs, and that's enough,
Tho' his foul's bullet, and his body buff.
He fpits fore-right; his haughty cheft before,
Like batt'ring rams, beats open ev'ry door:

So in immaculate cloaths, and symmetry
Perfect as circles, with fuch nicety
As a young preacher at his first time goes
To preach, he enters, and a lady which owes
Him not fo much as good- will, he arrefts,
And unto her protefts, protefts, protests,

So much as at Rome would ferve to have thrown
Ten cardinals into the Inquifition;

And whispers by Jesu so oft, that a

Purfuevant would have ravifh'd him away

For faying our lady's pfalter. But 'tis fit

That they each other plague, they merit it.
But here comes Glorious that will plague 'em both,

Who in the other extreme only doth

Call a rough carelesness, good fashion :

Whose cloak his fpurs 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,


265 And

And with a face as red, and as awry,
As Herod's hangdogs in old tapestry,
Scarecrow to boys, the breeding woman's curfe,
Has yet a ftrange ambition to look worse :
Confounds the civil, keeps the rude in awe,
Jefts like a licens'd fool, commands like law.
Frighted, I quit the room, but leave it fo
As men from jails to execution go;
For hung with deadly fins* I fee the wall,
And lin'd with giants deadlier than 'em all;
Each man an Afkapart †, of ftrength to tofs



For quoits, both Temple-bar and Charing-crofs,

Scar'd at the grizly forms, I fweat, I fly,

And shake all o'er, like a discover'd fpy.

Courts are too much for wits fo weak as mine: Charge them with Heav'n's artill'ry, bold divine!



He meant to cry; and though his face be as ill
As theirs which in old hangings whip Chrift, ftill
He ftrives to look worfe, he keeps all in awe;
Jefts like a licens'd fool, commands like law.

Tir'd, now I leave this place, and but pleas'd fo
As men from gaols to execution go,

Go, through the great chamber (why is it hung
With the feven deadly fins?) being among
Thofe Afkaparts †, men big enough to throw
Charing-crofs for a bar, men that do know
No token of wort, but queen's man, and fine
Living; barrels of beef, flaggons of wine.
I shook like a spied fpie-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 fcant brook, enough shall be

* The room hung with old tapestry, representing the feven deadly fins.

† A giant famous in romances.


From fuch alone the Great rebukes endure,
Whofe fatire's facred, and whofe rage fecure:
'Tis mine to wash a few light ftains, but theirs
To deluge fin, and drown a court in tears.
Howe'er what's now Apocrypha, my wit,
In time to come, may pafs for holy writ.


To wash the ftains away: although I yet
(With Maccabees modefty) the known merit
Of my work leffen, yet fome wife men fhall,
hope, efteem my writs canonical.









FR.NOT twice a twelvemonth* you appear in print,

And when it comes, the court fee nothing in't.

You grow correct, that once with rapture writ,
And are, befides, too moral for a wit.


Decay of parts, alas! we all must feel— Why now, this moment, don't I fee you steal? "Tis all from Horace; Horace long before ye Said, "Tories call'd him Whig, and Whigs a Tory;" And taught his Romans, in much better metre, "To laugh at fools who put their truft in Peter." IO But Horace, Sir, was delicate, was nice;

Bubo obferves § he lafh'd no fort of vice:

* These two lines are from Horace and the only lines that are so in the whole poem.

Some guilty perfon very fond of making such an observation.


Horace would fay, Sir Billy ferv'd the crown,


Blunt could do bus'nefs, H-ggins knew the town;

In Sappho touch the failings of the sex,

In rev'rend bishops note some small neglects,
And own the Spaniard did a waggish thing,

Who cropt our ears §, and fent them to the king.
His fly, polite, infinuating style

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Could please at court, and make AUGUSTUS fimile: 20
An artful manager, that crept between

His friend and fhame, and was a kind of screen.
But 'faith your very friends will foon be fore;
Patriots there are, who wish you'd jeft no more-
And where's the glory? 'twill be only thought
The great man † never offer'd you a groat.

Go fee Sir ROBERT.


P. See Sir ROBERT!-hum

And never laugh-for all my life to come?
Seen him I have, but in his happier hour
Of focial pleasure, ill-exchang'd for pow'r;
Seen him, uncumber'd with the venal tribe,
Smile without art, and win without a bribe.
Would he oblige me? let me only find,


He does not think me what he thinks mankind.
Come, come, at all I laugh he laughs, no doubt;
The only diff'rence is, 1 dare laugh out.


F. Why yes with Scripture ftill you may be free;

A horse-laugh, if you please, at honesty;

A joke on JEKYL, or fome odd old whig,
Who never chang'd his principle, or wig:


Formerly jailor of the Fleet-prifon, enriched himself by many exactions, for which he was tried and expelled.

Said to be executed by the captain of a Spanish fhip on one Jenkins, a captain of an English one. He cut off his ears, and bid him carry them to the king his master.

A phrafe, by common ufe, uppropriated to the first minifter.

Sir Jofeph Jekyl, Mafter of the Rolls, a true whig in his principles, and a man of the utmost probity. He fometimes voted against the court, which drew upon him the laugh here defcribed of ONE who bestowed it equally upon religion and honefty. He died a few months after the publication of this poem.

A pa

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