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142
The Third Dialogue, Between Chamber-pot and Frying Pan.
Chamber-pot.Stand off! nor with rude Smut disgrace
The Glories of my brighter face!
Frying-pan.
Tho not so glib my Face be seen,
Yet all I'me sure's as sweet within.
Chamber-pot.
You in the Kitchin drudge alone,
None handles you but greasie Joan!
Frying-pan.
I always lend, but you receive;
Which is most brave, to take, or give?
Chamber-pot.
Oft Maid and Mistriss fetch me out,
To wash their their Lilly-hand and Snowt.
Frying-pan.
You're civil sure, and use I hope
With Water to allow 'em Soap.
143
Yes, such as ne're, at worst, indures
To scowre so foul a Mouth as yours.
Frying-pan.
O what a fragrant Hogo rose
But now, to twinge a swounding Nose?
Chamber-pot.
Such as when you were made a Tool,
To Fry the Break-fast for the Fool.
Frying-pan.
All bulg'd and yellow you must fall
At last behind some ruin'd Wall;
Or melt, and to your Masters loss
Leave both at once your stink and dross.
Chamber-pot.
Take then, since me you'll thus Incense,
These marks of my Benevolence:
Such Water as if Fame says true,
Diana on Acteon threw;
Which as some learned men surmize,
With flap of Fox put out his Eyes:
And least of Rary show he brag,
Bewitcht poor Hunter into Stag.
Maggots | ||