The Second part of The Nights Search Discovering The Condition of the various Fowles of Night. Or, The second great Mystery of Iniquity exactly revealed: With the Projects of these Times. In a Poem, By Humphrey Mill |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XV. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. | SECT. XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
 | The Second part of The Nights Search |  |
SECT. XXIII.
The Devill with a Priestling meets,
A Souldier comes, the Devill greets;
He rails at first: the feinds unkind;
How he in sorrow speaks his mind.
The Preist is charg'd, of his advise,
How he did tempt the Devill twise.
Pandorssus try'd, how he did wooe,
Casts off one Whore, and takes in two:
The dreadfull fight, the combat past;
Their healths, and triumph at the last.
A Souldier comes, the Devill greets;
He rails at first: the feinds unkind;
How he in sorrow speaks his mind.
The Preist is charg'd, of his advise,
How he did tempt the Devill twise.
Pandorssus try'd, how he did wooe,
Casts off one Whore, and takes in two:
The dreadfull fight, the combat past;
Their healths, and triumph at the last.
Now hell will sound a parle, before tshe'l beat
Up her travail; or seem to make rereat:
She musters all her forces, views their scope,
Draws up the reer: in the forlorne hope
The Prelates Traine was plac'd. She sounds agen
(The Divell hath reserves as well as men)
But light (though distant) scornes to stoop, or see
Her issue joyne with this black Pedigree.
Up her travail; or seem to make rereat:
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Draws up the reer: in the forlorne hope
The Prelates Traine was plac'd. She sounds agen
(The Divell hath reserves as well as men)
But light (though distant) scornes to stoop, or see
Her issue joyne with this black Pedigree.
The Divell met a Priestling, where came in
A bloudy rustick; who had lately bin
A suiter to this feind, that he might take
Mens lives, and plunder freely; who did make
Him promise to that end: but, cause he fails
Souldate growes mad, and at the Divell railes.
A Souldier.
A bloudy rustick; who had lately bin
A suiter to this feind, that he might take
Mens lives, and plunder freely; who did make
Him promise to that end: but, cause he fails
Souldate growes mad, and at the Divell railes.
Have I been servant to thee many years?
And took thy word for all? as it appeares
By my successe: nor did I feare to kill
The innocent, being promp't to what was ill.
Rob, teare, sweare, curse at those that did rebell
A'gainst thy Lawes.
Divell.
Just so do we in Hell.
Souldier.
And so thou'lt serve me too: and for my gaines,
Thou'lt send black death, with torment for my paines.
Is't come to this?
Divell.
I pray thee tell me how
Our Plots should thrive, if we should not allow
False Protestations, with the breach of truce,
To cheat conceit? such subtletie's in use.
Souldier.
Now thou dealst plainly, hadst thou don't at first
I had been happy.
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Now thou art accurst.
We try all means your senses to invade,
Sometimes we'l be gentile; but 'tis our trade
To chayne your reason to the breath of men,
Who are our journey men: and now and then
They send such Chapmen to our darksome cave,
To purchase tombes with life, that loath'd a grave.
They can do more then we, being in request,
Our names are stain'd; what is by us exprest
Is put in use by Deputies. But we
Work privately.
Souldier.
Ah! to what misery
Have I engag'd my self! if Earth and Hell
Combin'd against me, is't in vain to tell
My cause to Heaven?
Divell.
Aske this flattring Priest,
That goes in velvet slippers; give a list
Of all thy rapes, and he perchance may give
An absolution; his conceits do live
With wastefull hopes: being pregnant in his evill,
He thinks in pride, to go beyond the Divell.
All Learning dwells in him: what falls beside
Are but the concrets of his inward pride.
Souldier.
You're comforters alike! thou did'st begin
A bloody Plot; and slily drew'st him in,
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Is but the execution of thy will;
Being of the Horsleech kind, and mettle free
To take thy easie stamp.
Devill.
He tempted me:
For when the stubborn Scot did give abuse,
To his Divinity, that was in use,
Du ni'd the gudly bukes, he rais'd his voyce
In folio sodenly, and then made choise
Of my assistance: when he could not prate
His hunderts out; nor could retaine that State,
He vomits bloud afresh: and then indeed
I got an Office, lov'd to see men bleed
As well as he; and when I went to fight,
I long'd to have the Parson in my sight.
Souldier.
How are poore soules deluded! that are taught
By such to loose themselves! now am I brought
For sale to Death. The trembling Earth doth gape
To let me down; and would commit a rape
Upon my reason too; the shivering aire
Benums my senses, but then, black dispair
Revives my grief again: the sawcie wind,
That's quarterd, with the anguish of mind:
Makes Earth-quakes in my breast; nor can I tell
Of one weeks pay to bear my charge to Hell.
Shame joynes with terrour, to increase my evill:
Oh pitie me!
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Aske mercie from a Devill?
I shall be made thy Gaoler, never look
For pardon any more, now the black book
Is laid before thee.
Souldier.
Reverend Sir come in,
Oh now! or never quell the rage of sin.
Priest.
Shake off thy dumps, and lose not thy renown;
Had not the Service-Book been voted down,
I'de conjure out this Fiend, do thou but fight,
Defend our cause, thou need'st not fear the sight
Of men and Devils, if thou dost forsake
Our blessed way, the devill will thee take:
Well, be advis'd.
Souldier.
Away yee Fiends, away,
You both desire my ruine, you'd destroy
Me, soule and body, thou hast laid a snare
To catch poor souls, of which thou should'st take care:
Thou limb of Antichrist, is this the rest
Thou didst propose? thour't proctor for the beast,
The Devill tels more truth, I doe defie
A seeming friend, a reall enemy.
Goe, changeling, go.
Priest.
Can Ideots understand,
What's best for peace, and freedome of the Land?
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That understand the Hebrew and the Greek,
In ways of truth?
Devill.
Ho,—ho, heer's dainty sport,
Because tha'st been a flattrer at the Court,
Chok't with conceit, thy parts doe raise the rate;
I liv'd in heaven, yet lost my happy state.
Thy fall is comming.
Priest.
I had best be gone,
This Fortune-tellers odds is two to one.
Souldier.
No trust in clods of clay, let men addresse
Themselves towards heaven, for their happinesse.
When this discourse was past the knot dissolv'd.
A crooked piece of filth, that was involv'd
Within a trebble curse, came crawling by,
And after him his trul, who us'd to lie,
To take him captive: many years they had
Been jogging to the Devil, he was mad,
To wed this tub of treasure, kept for store,
Though lovely by contraries, match, t before,
Pandorsus now declines her, he has found
At prison base upon the common ground:
Two Punks new underlaid, and in his view,
Malea the best of them, was vamp't anew:
And Furia had been bottom'd, had not she
Been over dry'd neer Smithfield, but if hee
Can turne old Querpa off, that he may have
Those prettie pugs to drill him to his grave,
Hee'l give a double fine: it is agreed,
That he shall work for death, and hee'l make speed,
Lest hell should be too full, before his lust,
Commits his rotten carcasse to the dust.
A crooked piece of filth, that was involv'd
Within a trebble curse, came crawling by,
And after him his trul, who us'd to lie,
To take him captive: many years they had
Been jogging to the Devil, he was mad,
To wed this tub of treasure, kept for store,
Though lovely by contraries, match, t before,
Pandorsus now declines her, he has found
At prison base upon the common ground:
Two Punks new underlaid, and in his view,
Malea the best of them, was vamp't anew:
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Been over dry'd neer Smithfield, but if hee
Can turne old Querpa off, that he may have
Those prettie pugs to drill him to his grave,
Hee'l give a double fine: it is agreed,
That he shall work for death, and hee'l make speed,
Lest hell should be too full, before his lust,
Commits his rotten carcasse to the dust.
Well, now the wantons meet, and Querpa sees
That Furia had his heart, and Maleas fees,
Were fruits of pleasure, shee advanc'd her tongue,
Would you ingrose my dear? I've had him long,
Above these fifteen years, and I will claime
Priority in trust, it is my ayme,
Still to enjoy my sweet.
Furia.
That Furia had his heart, and Maleas fees,
Were fruits of pleasure, shee advanc'd her tongue,
Would you ingrose my dear? I've had him long,
Above these fifteen years, and I will claime
Priority in trust, it is my ayme,
Still to enjoy my sweet.
What needst thou move?
Malea and I are partners in his love,
He works, and brings us gains, he'ad rather pine
And presse his hart, then we should want for coine,
Querpa.
He works, and brings us gains, he'ad rather pine
And presse his hart, then we should want for coine,
I cannot hold my hands, I'le have thy nose,
And teare thy eyes out, such a pair as those,
Bewitch my joy! these Tyburubirds of prey,
May chatter charmes and doe their work by day:
I vow Ile make you packe.
Malea.
I'le vex her more,
Here are the clothes which yesterday he wore,
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To wait on us in lovely merriment:
What ere he hath is ours, his daughter now
Gets nought from him, but what we doe alow.
Chuck? Chuck is right.
Pandor.
Ha, if you finde me flinch,
Then blame më, no, I scorne to stir an inch
From what I promise: Querpa, you are old,
Tuf, dry, unactive, sence conjealjd with cold:
Go, trudge to feeble Dick: for I have made
My choice anew.
Querpa.
I am no out-worne jade.
Thou Varlet of the tub! I'le make thy name
A common stench, thou excrement of shame!
Chiefe in the roule of rogues, in Bride-well dy'd,
Twice free of Newgate, once to Tyborn ty'd:
Deny my Love? How like an asse he stands,
Come once again into the hangmans hands,
Hee'l choke thy mirth. Impatient of disgrace,
He tore her head-clothes off, shee scratcht his face.
A common stench, thou excrement of shame!
Chiefe in the roule of rogues, in Bride-well dy'd,
Twice free of Newgate, once to Tyborn ty'd:
Deny my Love? How like an asse he stands,
Come once again into the hangmans hands,
Hee'l choke thy mirth. Impatient of disgrace,
He tore her head-clothes off, shee scratcht his face.
But then his chieflings came unto his ayd,
He got the day, poor Querpa now is paid:
For tongue tale scores being fled; the bonny three
Drinke healths in riumph of the victory:
They reingage themselves, his valours known,
Together with his love, they'l have it blown
With th' silver Trump of fame, that all may finde
The rich borne issue of Pandorsus minde.
He got the day, poor Querpa now is paid:
For tongue tale scores being fled; the bonny three
Drinke healths in riumph of the victory:
They reingage themselves, his valours known,
Together with his love, they'l have it blown
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The rich borne issue of Pandorsus minde.
The Devill breaks his covenants with men,
When they are in a straight: and they agen
With one another in a frenzie fit,
He gains his ends, because he has more wit;
When their's are frustrate. When the Hare
To quarter freely where the hungry Hounds
Keep randevouze; or if the Partridge treats
With angry Hawks about her choice of meats,
What will the issue be? these did agree,
That are discover'd here: but now you see
How justice parts 'em: if they do rebell
In change of sins, how will they do in hell,
Where plagues are crown'd? for, there the hungry flames
Are in commission; bodies, souls and names
Must 'bide th' arbitrement: they need not fight,
To make their curse compleat. Day's turn'd to night,
Where horrour, (free from chains) doth gnaw the sore;
Makes hope as blinde, as reason was before:
And greedy sorrow, feeding upon teares,
Gender's despaire, which ruleth over feares
With imbred terrour, born by helplesse grief:
Shame's no abortive: death commands in chief.
When they are in a straight: and they agen
With one another in a frenzie fit,
He gains his ends, because he has more wit;
When their's are frustrate. When the Hare
To quarter freely where the hungry Hounds
Keep randevouze; or if the Partridge treats
With angry Hawks about her choice of meats,
What will the issue be? these did agree,
That are discover'd here: but now you see
How justice parts 'em: if they do rebell
In change of sins, how will they do in hell,
Where plagues are crown'd? for, there the hungry flames
Are in commission; bodies, souls and names
Must 'bide th' arbitrement: they need not fight,
To make their curse compleat. Day's turn'd to night,
Where horrour, (free from chains) doth gnaw the sore;
Makes hope as blinde, as reason was before:
And greedy sorrow, feeding upon teares,
Gender's despaire, which ruleth over feares
With imbred terrour, born by helplesse grief:
Shame's no abortive: death commands in chief.
| The Second part of The Nights Search | |