Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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Fortune-Telling.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Fortune-Telling.
See Foreknowledge.
A gypsy
Jewess whispers in your Ear,
And begs an Alms: an High-Priest's Daughter She,
Vers'd in their Talmud, and Divinity;
And prophesies beneath a shady Tree.
Farthings, and some small Matters, are her Fees:
Yet she interprets all your Dreams for these.
Foretells th' Estate, when the rich Unkle dies,
And Sweet-hearts in a Pigeon's Intrails spies.—
And begs an Alms: an High-Priest's Daughter She,
Vers'd in their Talmud, and Divinity;
And prophesies beneath a shady Tree.
Farthings, and some small Matters, are her Fees:
Yet she interprets all your Dreams for these.
Foretells th' Estate, when the rich Unkle dies,
And Sweet-hearts in a Pigeon's Intrails spies.—
Full Credit to th' Astrologer is given:
What he foretells is deem'd the Voice of Heav'n.
From him your Wife enquires the Planet's Will,
When the Black Jaundice shall her Mother kill:
Her Sister's and her Unkle's End would know:
But, first, consults his Art, when You shall go:
And, what's the greatest Gift that Heav'n can give,
If, after her, th' Adulterer shall live.—
What he foretells is deem'd the Voice of Heav'n.
383
When the Black Jaundice shall her Mother kill:
Her Sister's and her Unkle's End would know:
But, first, consults his Art, when You shall go:
And, what's the greatest Gift that Heav'n can give,
If, after her, th' Adulterer shall live.—
But above all, beware how Her You meet,
Who in these Studies is herself compleat:
By whom a greasy Almanack is born,
With often handling, like fat Amber worn:
Not now consulting, but consulted, she
Of the Twelve Houses, and their Lords, is free.
She, if the Scheme a fatal Journey show,
Stays safe at Home, but let's her Husband go.
If but a Mile she travel out of Town,
The Planetary Hour must first be known,
And lucky Moment: If her Eye but akes,
Or itches, it's Decumbiture she takes.
No Nourishment receives in her Disease,
But what the Stars, and Ptolemy shall please.—
Who in these Studies is herself compleat:
By whom a greasy Almanack is born,
With often handling, like fat Amber worn:
Not now consulting, but consulted, she
Of the Twelve Houses, and their Lords, is free.
She, if the Scheme a fatal Journey show,
Stays safe at Home, but let's her Husband go.
If but a Mile she travel out of Town,
The Planetary Hour must first be known,
And lucky Moment: If her Eye but akes,
Or itches, it's Decumbiture she takes.
No Nourishment receives in her Disease,
But what the Stars, and Ptolemy shall please.—
The poorer Sort who have not much to spare,
To Chiromancers' cheaper Art repair,
Who clap the pretty Palm to make the Lines more fair.
But the rich Matrons who have more to give,
Their Answers from the Brachman will receive.
Skill'd in the Globe and Sphere, he gravely stands,
Points forth the Stars, and measures out the Lands.—
To Chiromancers' cheaper Art repair,
Who clap the pretty Palm to make the Lines more fair.
But the rich Matrons who have more to give,
Their Answers from the Brachman will receive.
Skill'd in the Globe and Sphere, he gravely stands,
Points forth the Stars, and measures out the Lands.—
I value not a Rush your Marsian Augurs:
Your Village, Market-hunting Fortune-Tellers;
Astrologers, divining Priests of Isis,
Or Dream Expounders: for they are not Men
Inspir'd by Heav'n, or of superior Knowledge:
But superstitious, impudent Pretenders,
Vile, lazy Slaves, Madmen, or needy Varlets,
Whose counterfeit Predictions spring from Want:
And while for Guides to Others they set up,
Know not the Way themselves: A Groat they beg
Of those to whom they promise Heaps of Gold:
One single Groat of all your future Wealth
Will them content, the rest they leave to You.—
Your Village, Market-hunting Fortune-Tellers;
Astrologers, divining Priests of Isis,
Or Dream Expounders: for they are not Men
Inspir'd by Heav'n, or of superior Knowledge:
But superstitious, impudent Pretenders,
Vile, lazy Slaves, Madmen, or needy Varlets,
Whose counterfeit Predictions spring from Want:
And while for Guides to Others they set up,
Know not the Way themselves: A Groat they beg
Of those to whom they promise Heaps of Gold:
One single Groat of all your future Wealth
Will them content, the rest they leave to You.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |