SATIRE

ON THE

DUTCH.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1662*.

AS needy gallants, in the fcrivener's hands, Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgag'd lands;

The firft fat buck of all the feafon's fent,

And keeper takes no fee in compliment ;
The dotage of fome Englishmen is fuch,
To fawn on thofe, who ruin them, the Dutch,
They fhall have all, rather than make a war
With thofe, who of the fame religion are.
The Straits, the Guiney-trade, the herrings

too;

Nay, to keep friendship, they shall pickle you. Some are refolved not to find out the cheat, 11 But, cuckold-like, love them that do the feat.

* This poem is no more than a prologue a little altered, prefixed to our author's tragedy of Amboyna.

DERRICK.

What injuries foe'er upon us fall,

Yet ftill the fame religion anfwers all.
Religion wheedled us to civil war,

15

Drew English blood, and Dutchmen's now wou'd fpare.

Be gull'd no longer; for you'll find it true,
They have no more religion, faith! than you.
Intereft's the god they worship in their state,
And we, I take it, have not much of that. 20
Well monarchies may own religion's name,
But ftates are atheists in their very frame.
They fhare a fin; and fuch proportions fall,
That, like a stink, 'tis nothing to them all.
Think on their rapine, falfhood, cruelty,
And that what once they were, they still would
be.

25

To one well-born th' affront is worfe and more, When he's abus'd and baffl'd by a boor.

With an ill grace the Dutch their mifchiefs do;
They've both ill nature and ill manners too. 30
Well may they boast themselves an ancient na-
tion;

For they were bred ere manners were in fashion:
And their new commonwealth has fet them free
Only from honour and civility.
Venetians do not more uncouthly ride,
Than did their lubber ftate mankind beftride.

35

Ver. 35. Venetians do not more uncouthly ride,] Horfes are almoft ufelefs in Venice trom its fituation, there being canals in every street, fo that it cannot be thought the Venetians are ex

Their fway became 'em with as ill a mien,
As their own paunches fwell above their chin.
Yet is their empire no true growth but humour,
And only two kings' touch can cure the tumour.
As Cato, fruits of Afric did difplay;
Let us before our eyes their Indies lay:
All loyal English will like him conclude;
Let Cæfar live, and Carthage be subdu❜d.

41

pert jockies befides, "To ride as badly as a grandee of Venice," is become a proverb all over Italy. DERRICK.

Ver. 41. As Cato, &c.] Compare the Annus Mirabilis,

ftan. 173.

"As once old Cato in the Roman fight,
The tempting fruits of Afric did unfold."

Ver. 44.

TODD.

and Carthage] The very words and allufion by Lord Shaftesbury in his famous fpeech against the Dutch.

TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS

THE DUTCHESS*,

ON THE

MEMORABLE VICTORY GAINED BY THE DUKE OVER THE HOLLANDERS, JUNE 3, 1665,

AND ON

HER JOURNEY AFTERWARDS

MADAM,

INTO THE NORTH.

WHEN for our fakes, your hero you refign'd
To fwelling feas, and every faithlefs wind;
When you releas'd his courage, and fet free
A valour fatal to the enemy;

You lodg'd your country's cares within your breaft,

5

(The mansion where foft love should only rest :)

The lady, to whom our author addreffes this poem, was daughter to the great Earl of Clarendon. The Duke of York had been fome time married to her, before the affair was known either to the king his brother, or to her father. She died in March, 1671, leaving iffue one fon, named Edgar, and three daughters, Katherine, Mary, and Ann. The two latter lived to fit on the British throne; the two former furvived their mother but a fhort time. Bishop Burnet tells us, that she was a womas of knowledge and penetration, friendly and generous, but fevere in her refentments. DERRICK.