University of Virginia Library

Of Civil Dudgeon many a Bard
Has sung, and Tales have oft been heard,
Much in Verse and much in Prose,
Of antient Friends grown arrant Foes.
From this Occasion I'm about
To tell you how two Friends fell out,
The dearest Two, the kindest Pair,
That e'er each others Heart did share,
Damsel and Hero fat and fair.
The Noble Hero, who not knows,
Order attends where'er he goes;
And in his even-dealing Hand,
He always bears a pow'rful Wand,
The Badg of Office and Command.
Frequent at Lady W---s Door,
'Thas stood upon a well-known Score;
Which the poor Jew Sir John has seen
Full oft, and curs'd the Turk within.
Who not admires the Damsel bright,
That ever traps'd the Mall by Night;
Who that ever had occasion
For any Filthiness in Fashion,
Many a Bed, and Basket full
Has she put off of Trash and Trull.
In short, their Virtues are well known,
Where e'er her Trumpet Fame has blown;
For long has mighty Clamour ran,
Of honest Frank, and modest Nan.
But how these two from harmless Prattle
Came at last to direful Battel:
Butler, couldst thou live agen,
With thy inimitable Pen,
'Twould puzzle e'en thy mighty Verse
The wondrous Actions to rehearse
Of Knight and Damsel, that surpass
Thy Trulla, and thy Hudibrass.

There is a Time (as th'Author has it
That writes the Treatise call'd the Gazette,
In many things by him related)
When Whitehall is evacuated:
That is, when the Court and Prince are
Catching Agues all at Windsor.
For in Greenland, as they do write,
The whole Year's but one Day and Night;
So of late it has been here,
Only Sunshine half the Year.
And as evil Spirits venture,
Often in the dark to enter
Hallow'd Roofs, when those that keep
The Place, are absent or asleep:
So factious Vermin, that are driven
From Court for Faults too oft forgiven;
When they have watch'd the King from's House,
Come there to keep their Rendevouz,
Then Crofts and Sun---land Cabal,
Then Ce**l lords it in the Mall,
With all his train of unfledg'd Fools,
Callow as they came from Schools;
G---y, Mord---, Bran---, K---t, and Th---,
Still at worst Follies deepest in.
And Hunting—with his long Tool,
Not as his mark of Man, but Fool:
Whose Tail and Follies make his Life
Useful only to his Wife.
All these with foul Infection tainted,
Long ago had been transplanted
Far from the Court, that so the rest
That yet were sound, might scape the Test.
But as that vile Disease, the Itch,
Does some lewd Natures so bewitch,
That it they'l always choose to catch,
For the meer Lechery to scratch;
So Faction does with some prevail,
For a bare Colour but to rail.
Honest Frank was one of these,
In's heart lov'd them, and their Disease:
Honest Frank, who's but a Noddy,
Yet rails as well as any Body,
And as sacred Libels shew,
Publish'd not many days ago,
A certain Lord was but a Cur,
To which Opinion few demur;
So honest Frank, shou'd I speak mine,
Is something nat'rally canine;
For as some Cur his Master owns,
To love, and give him Crusts and Bones,
Tho kindly fed, will yet be running
Abroad, where Carrion lies a sunning:
So Frank, tho he no feeding need,
On rotten Faction loves to feed;
With which when he does back resort,
He stinks intolerably at Court:
And for Occasions of this nature,
Has been of late no lazy Creature.
Tho better, had he minded Duty,
And so escap'd this War with Beauty;
Beauty which shines in Nancies Face,
As much as he does in his place.
Majestick Wrinkles deck her Brow,
And goodly glaring Eyes below,
That still with Maudlin Kindness shine,
The soft effects of Brandy Wine.
Rich Carbuncles adorn her Nose,
The envy of her sober Toes:
And from her Lips Discourses fall,
That make her welcome to Whitehall.
Where one day she enter'd shining,
Just as Frank was come from dining;
But who the Devil could have guest,
To see how they at first caress'd,
How cheek by jowl they kindly walk'd,
And with what tenderness they talk'd?

My dearest Nan, said he, what Whores
Are freshest now? Quoth Nan, my Doors
Heav'n knows ne'er open'd to receive
A Lover since you last took leave;
Whom still to serve, my Love remains,
Tho you ne'er pay me for my pains.
Pay thee, quoth he! Nan pay for wenching!
When e'en our Tables are retrenching.
Says Nancy, O thou falsely fairest!
'Tis Love I want, not Coin, my dearest.
'Tis thee I love, 'tis thee I dote on,
More than a Child that puts new Coat on;
To see thee walk, I love thy Trip,
I love the Drops upon thy Lip.
Thy just Crevat, thy regular Wig,
My little Pug, my little Pig.
When with desire of thee I stretch,
I've no Sciatica nor Stitch.
Quoth Frank in rage, Avaunt you Bitch;
Have I for this, through all my Life,
Kept civil distance with my Wife;
Studied new Speeches from Romances,
And in my Age led Country-dances?
Do I for this e'en at this Hour,
Cheat e'ery Creature in my pow'r;
Gripe from the Poor the utmost Farthing
To keep my credit up at Carding?
Do I for this affect a Grace,
And paint my old John-Apple Face,
Only to have a Bawd adore me?
No, I'll have Virgins fall before me.
Virgins! quoth Nan; and then she hung
A Tongue out full two handfuls long,
And with desire of Malice stung,
Lick'd o'er the thickest painted place,
And spoil'd intirely that days Face.
But who can speak the Noise and Din,
The Fury that did then begin;
The Oaths, the Outcries, and the Blows,
When Francis catching Nancy's Nose,
With furious gripe expressing hate,
Squeez'd nine large Insects off of that?
Then with a shock upon her Chest,
So stir'd the Brandy in her Breast,
That an eructive Sigh she sent,
Which as it through the Region went,
Such wondrous Influence did bear,
A soaring Owl dropt headlong there,
Drunk with sophisticated Air.
Which Omen much ill luck bespoke,
For the next Tilt the Hero broke:
The famous Wand describ'd above
The Ensign of his Pow'r, and Love,
But at the same time Conquest got,
And doom'd the vanquish'd Bawd to Pot;
To Porters Lodg he sent her jogging,
To purchase Liberty by Flogging.