University of Virginia Library

Now all was well silent as may be,
But poor Æneas like a Babe
Simpers, and cannot chuse but cry
And put his finger in his eye
To tell her Highness of the down-
Fall, of that pretty place Troy Town;
Madam, quoth he, may't please your Grace
I can't but make a soure face,

To tell you how;—
And here he stopt, and made a pause,
And scarce could speak, but 'twas because
Tears trickled down his Malmsy Nose,
To think of all the Trojan Woes;
At last in words smoother then butter,
He thus began his mind to utter,
For ten long years with much adoe
We have those Grecians overthrew,
Many a scar as I suppose,
Many a good sound bloody nose;
We cuft their chaps, and broke their shins,
And yet the Rogues still came ag'in's,
“We never could be quiet for 'um,
“Pox on those Rogues for I abhor 'um;
We bang'd, and soust them up for Codfish,
But yet at last they prov'd but odd Fish;
For when we thought that all was past,
These youngsters had a trick at last:
A huge great Horse they sent us hither
Ill luck, the Devil and all together:
In him six hundred men they put,
I think Old Nick was in his gutt:
Altho' some say there were no more
Men, then five hundred ninety four,
All Tall and Lusty War-like Chuffs,
For most men say they were in Buffs:
This Trojan Horse, as Homer Notes,
Was fill'd with Men, instead of Oates:
Provender good enough, alas!
For what is mortal man but grass.
There is a little Pretty Isle
Not far from thence, about a mile;
I'm sure of this, that 'tis a Town,
To those that dwell in it well known:
Its name I know not, some suppose,
The Name of it is Tenedos;
'Twas rich when Priam rul'd the rost,
But now as poor as I almost;
There's neither Iron Barr, nor Grate,
Percullas, Chain, or Bolt, or Gate,
Yet 'twas a wealthy place of old,
For there King Priam kept his gold;
There also under Lock and Key,
He put his Chiefest Treasury;
But now it is a place of landing,
Where water-men do take their standing:
Hither the crafty Grecians come,
We thinking they had been gone home,
Ope our Town-Gates, Frolick, and Bouse
Drink Sherry, in a full Carouse;
And Madam, for to tell you true,
We thought no harm no more then you;
All 'gin to wonder at this Horse,
Thymetes draws it in by force;
Capys (a wiser man) the Chyrurgion,
Would have it thrown in for a Sturgion:

As the Colt at Huntington,
was voted for a Sturgion.

Laocon running from the Tower,
Would fain have spoke, but had not Power:
This Youth when he should guard the trenches
Was alwayes twifling with his Wenches;
At last by getting breath, he thus
Began in Language furious;
Genteels, what madness, rage, and fury
Doth you, to these dire actions hurry,
'Slead (quoth he) 'twas his common Oath,
Yet there is one alive that doth
Protest he never heard him swear
By any but by Jupiter;
But lets go on, thats gone and past,
He knew not what he said in hast;
He had a weapon keen and fierce,
That through a Bull-hide-shield would pierce
A Lance it was with Iron picke,
Th' one end would thrust the other stick;
With this he ran with might and main,
And thrust it through and through again,
And lifting up his hindmost legg,
He pull'd it out, as 'twere a pegg;
He jerkt his sides and firckt his Toby,
Like Aspin leaf then shooke his Hobby;
And straight from his disgorged belly
Sent such a sound I cannot tell ye.
Have you not seen a Kilderkin
Fil'd up with liquor to the brim,
Which when you strike it with your fist
It speaks no louder then it list;
But when it sounds most wondrous dull,
You all conclude the Barrels full:
So when Laocon heard the sound
Which from this Monster did rebound,
He straight cries out, Sirs let me tell ye,
Our foes are lodg'd within his belly,
And if by chance they should come to us,
I tell you they would quite undoe us,
Robb all our Hen-rousts, nay yet further,
They'd kill our Cowes, and Bullocks murther,
Nay some of them will be so base as
To fling the Egg-shels in our faces;
They'l kill our Horse-men, and Dragoons,
Shirk Pis-pots, Porringers, and Spoons;
'Tis now, quoth he, no time to Rhyme,
Look to your selves, 'tis pudding time:
Mean while was brought before King Priam,
As tall a proper Man as I am
Bound fast with Ropes, for I presage,
It was not then the Iron Age;
To say the truth, ye shall not meet,
A taller Fellow in our street,
You need not question much his valour,
For he was born and bred a Taylor;
His hair inclining was to yellow,
Methinks it was a pretty fellow:
This man was brought in such a hurly,
Set all our Towns-folk in a burly;
And that which did encrease the fray,
Was cause it was our market-day:
Each Prentice came with his Maid-Marion,
As crows do flock to stinking Carrion;
All sorts to jear him came a gazing,
As Butchers croud to a Bear-baiting:
Hither me all our people flocks,
As we were going to the stocks,
When as alass! there's no such thing,
For he was going to the King.
This fellow was a subtile wight,
And one that knew as well to fight
As eat, his Breakfast for his bread,
He knew which side was buttered;
An 'inted Villain, as I've seen,
Car'd not for life, or death a pin:
This Varlet was as you shall see,
As full of craft as Treachery;
For lifting up his fist on high,
H' invokes the sacred Deity;
The stars he calls by Christen Names,
As you should call Jack, Tom, or James,
And casting up the white of's eyes,
He thus began to Apologize:

Quoth he, may it your Highness please,
I must confess I came from Greece;
Turn'd out of house, and home, and fobb'd
Of all my goods, and money robb'd:
For I have liv'd in as good fashion,
As any Gaffer of our Nation,
Nay I have kept a gallant house,
Never without pudding, or souce;
My men could come to the bren cheese,
And go to th' cubbard when they please;
Now pinch'd with cold (till Troy be thank't
To keep me warm, I got a blanket,
And porridge too; the Servants they,
Sup Sinon, tis good broth) did say:
And now they've left me not a stitch,
Nor scarce a tatter to my breech,
But this poor Mantle, which you see,
Which truly, scarce is worth a flee;
A good cloath coat, the Rogues did lurch,
I never wor't, but once to Church;
Their cross-grain'd tricks, I knew no more
Then Lilly, who beray'd his dore.
Poor honest Sino that's my name,
Call't what you please, I'm still the same;
Thus went he on with his flim flam prattel,
To tell us what good store of Cattel
He had, and things not worth the hearing,
As when he made the last Sheep-sharing:
Thus did he all his stock unriddle,
As easily as thread a niddle;
At last tears trickling from his eyes,
We little thought that all was lies:
And hearing of his sad complaint,
Took him no less then for a Saint;
The old Wives hearts and stomacks did rise
Young Maids were pierc'd unto the kidnies;
But in the end of his Narration,
He made such sober Application,
That he made all our mouths to water,
To hear the fag end of the matter;
We call'd him honest man, and bid him
Go on, and tell us what betid him;
Chear up, saith one, I'le burn the Rod,
My Chuck, my Joy, my Nicola Cod;
He scare could speak, but cry'd a while
As he had been a sucking child,
At last, wiping his nose from snot,
He thus began to lay his plot:
Revenge, Revenge, O sweet Revenge!
More toothsom then Calves-head & henge,
Quoth he, my Master's all I'le take
My Oath, you made their hearts-blood ake.
They oft-times thought to hoyse up sayle
There was no hopes for to prevail;
They all cry'd out that it did seem
In vain to strive against the stream:
The raging Sea did oft-times toss 'um,
The winds & waves contriv'd to cross 'um;
Oft-times it did Thunder and Lighten,
Which did the Grecians sore affrighten;
Somtimes a storm would come, you'd think
That all their ships would strait-way sink;
Thus when they saw their wit, did fail 'um
They wondred what the Devil ayl'd 'um;
They all began to stamp and stare,
As mad as ever was March Hare;
At last they sent with wondrous speed
A man to the Oracle of Phæbe,
Who coming nigh the Sacred Stones,
Fell down upon his Marrow-Bones:
At last he having got his Answer,
Did come away like any man Sir;
Quoth he, the Gods did me advise,
To offer up a Sacrifice;
And drawing out his rusty hanger,
Cries this, this must appease their anger;
With that they all resolv'd that I
Must be the man prepar'd to dye;
And straitway clapt me up in Prison,
Where I was for a little season;
And when they had my hand fast bound,
They put me straightway in lobs pound;
An ugly hole it was, and which,
Was e'en as dark as any pitch,
So low it was, you scarce could stand in,
So dark, you scarce could see your hand in;
I was in such a wofull plight,
I could not fetch a nap all night;
I told our Town-Clock all along,
I heard the Chimes go ding, ding, dong:
At last when day began to peep,
I cunningly away did creep,
And in an Apple-Tree I hid me,
Where a good honest woman bid me;
And now I was as safe and sound,
As one had giv'n me twenty pound:
But now I must nev'r look to see
My Friends, nor yet my Friends see me:
My pretty bantlings, great and small
Heavens keep them, and protect them all:
And now ye Trojans show some pitty,
As you are Free-Men of the City.
Thus hearing of the sad Narration,
We all began to show compassion,
And those that did mark the preamble,
Their gutts within them, 'gan to wamble,
For it would move a very stone,
To see a pudding creep alone:
But seeing of the King of Troy,
He cry'd aloud, Vive Le Roy;
And as he had a Trojan been,
He shouted forth, God save the Queen:
With that King Priam could not chuse
But smile, and bid his foot Boyes loose
His hands, and feet, and presently
He was as free as you or I.
Our King then standing bolt upright,
Did his most gracious Speech recite,
Quoth he, Friend never be dismay'd,
Here's none will hurt you, ben't afraid
I warrant ye, that there is no man,
But what's a true and trusty Trojan;
And so I hope that you will be,
Truly I like your physognomy;
You seem to be an honest Creature,
You have a good ingenious feature:
But now good honest Master Sino,
There is one thing still which I would fain know,
And if to me you will but vent it,
You ner'e shall have cause to repeat it;
Truly I'le take it very kind,
If you will tell me all your mind;
Come tell me true, indeed, indeed,
What means this monstrous wooden-stead;
For truly give me leave to tell ye,
I some-what do dislike his belly;
Though Master Sino I am loath,
To look a gift-Horse in the mouth:
This man I think, as I'm a sinner,
Loved mischief better then his dinner:
For falling down at the Kings feet,
He thus began to counterfeit;
Quoth he, by all the petty Gods,
I know not what set you at odds;
Nor yet what tis that makes you fite,
Like Catts, and Doggs, to scratch and bite;
I'm sure tis I that got the harme,
I've lost a very goodly Farme;
The ground was left me by my Grannum,
It brought in thirteen pounds per Annum;
Besides there was a pretty garden,
But I have lost it every farthing:
The Lamps of Heaven, know I tell
The naked truth, of what befell;
And that which vanquisht all our fear,
He clos'd his Speech with many a tear:
And then another mischief fell us,
Which truly did as good as tell us,
That what the fellow did to us tell,
Was in a manner true as Gospel.
Laocon casting lots, was eft-soon,
Chosen to be the Priest of Neptune:
Some say in th' twinkling of an eye,
This Youngster he could cog a dye;
And if't be true, as folks do say,
I needs must tell you 'twas foul play,
And tho' he wins at first, tis five
To one, if cheating play doth thrive:
For as he lookt with steadfast eyes,
Offring to the Gods a sacrifice:
Behold, two hugeous Snakes appear,
At that we all began to fear;
Laocon wonders what's the matter,
They both straight jumpt out of the water,
And hissing, leapt into his face,
The Priest was in a shitten case;
Now 'gan the Sea to roar, 'twas said,
Neptune himself was half afraid:
We seeing such a sight begun,
Each man to take his heel and run;
We minded not the Priest at all,
Each for himself, and he for all;
The Priest began to screek, nay further,
Some people heard him cry out murther:
Have you not seen a Causset Lamb,
Ta'n by the Butcher from his Damb,
How it doth cry, struggle, and strive,
As being loath to loose his life:
So did Laocon, cry and bellow,
Just so as I'm an honest fellow;
No man did pitty him at all,
Some did him Rogue and Rascall call,
For striking of this Trojan Steed,
All cry'd you are justly serv'd indeed;
And now the Folk withall their Power,
Do place this Horse within their Tower:
But know the bigness of this Beast
Was such, our Gate was at the least;
And presently our Towns-Folks all,
'Gin to pluck down a piece of wall;
Some got Pick-Axes, and Hammers,
Some got Mattocks, Spade and Rammers;
There's old to do, and such a pother,
Some got one thing, some another;
As busie all as body-lice,
They pull'd the wall down in a trice;
And now they all do tugg, and strives,
As they were tugging for their lives:
The Maids did come and make a shift,
To give a pull at a dead lift;
And know tis true that Maids can then,
Tugg best of all when they're with men;
They were as white as on May-Day,
Truly I think they made a Play-day:
At last with many a pleasant ditty,
We got him safe into the City;
Some thrust before and some behind,
I think the Devil, we all were blind:
Now when the night began to peep,
'Twas time for honest men to sleep;
Our towns-men all were wearied,
Thought it high time to go bed;
Some on the floor, and in their cloaths,
Others began to Sing Old Rose;
Some reel'd to Bed, others to Mows,
As drunk as any Davids Sows:
And now the Greeks with forty Oare,
From Tenedos soon got to shore;
And in the dead time of the night,
They all prepared themselves to fight:
We all were snorting, great and small,
And never dreamt of it at all;
Sino that Rogue the door did ope,
And down they all came by a rope;
Down slides Petides, Neoplotum,
Machaon, Menelaus did follow 'um,
Tysandrus, Stenelaus, Ulisses,
As stout a Souldier as now pisses:
Down they all foal with mickle care,
By which I find this Horse a Mare:
They kill'd our Bell-Man, and his Bitch,
I think the Men were all bewitcht:
They arm'd themselves, and every man
Had got a cudgel in his hand,
And breaking open our town gate,
Their Comrades sally in thereat;
And as the Gods would have it happen,
Truly the Rogues did catch us napping:
Indeed I think as it did hap,
I had but newly fetcht a nap;
Behold stout Hector, he that died,
Did seem to stand at my Bed-side;
Good Heer he lookt as he had been
Twice eaten, and spew'd up agen;
He came just so as he was worried,
When he about our walls was hurried;
His mouth was full of blood and foam,
His hair as 't had been never comb'd;
His beard was rough and over-grown him,
A little more I had not known him;
I know not how I should, because
He was not like the man he was;
Who after many wars, and toyles,
Use to come laden home with spoyles:
Now he's no more like the same Royster,
Then a good pipping, like an Oyster;
And as he to the bed did creep,
It griev'd me for to see him weep:
At first I lay as in a maze,
At last I broke out in this phrase:

Thou trusty Trojan, valiant Peere,
What a Devil makes thee here?
Quoth he, begon, thou and thy sire,
For all our towns are on a fire;
The Child unborn may rue the day,
For lack of Butter-Milk and Whay;
Quoth he, 'twill be a direfull Theam,
To tell the loss of Curds and Cream:
Make hast away, you'l be undone,
Destroyed every Mothers Son;
'Tis now too late to put a hand to,
No man can do more then he can do;
We are ruin'd every Mother Son,
Pack up the rodlings, and be gone:
That word did make my heart to ake,
I think was time for me to wake,
I started up, and rubb'd mine eyes,
And to the window presently;
Where soon as I had lookt about,
I presently did spy the rout:
As soon as e're they met a man
They knockt him down, and bid him stand;
With that I fetcht my Sword and Spear,
And down I went a Volunteer:
When I came down, I swore I sat 'um,
My fingers itch't for to beat him:
Upon my head I put a Capp,
For who knows what mischief may hap;
The rogues may break ones head with stones
More wayes to kill a dogg then one.
Now as I past along the street,
Who should I but Otrides meet,
With's Child at's back, mid'st all this rout
With's baggage he was marching out:
How goes the Market, honest friend
Quoth I? He seem'd not to attend
To what I spoke; at last he sayes,
Butter is butter now a dayes:
You need not fight you'r ne'r the nigher,
For all the fat is in the fire;
Sino, that Rascal with a match,
Has set on fire all the thatch.
But yet Æneas never hang'd
An arse, for fear of being bang'd;
He's not so cowardly as those,
Who cry to see a bloody nose;
But is resolved rather then yield,
To dye with honour in the field:
And thus with courage out he goes,
Kill, or be killed by his foes;
With him there went a many more,
Truly, I think well nigh a score
Young lusty Men, some in this Nick
Of time, had gotten faggot sticks;
But that which made me almost laugh,
Dymus came running with a Bed-staff:
Yet for all that, Gentleman-like,
Æneas he did trayle a Pike:
Soon as he spy'd these lusty Souldiers,
He clapt each man upon the Shoulders;
Quoth he, chear up my Boyes, I say,
It shan't be se'd we lost the day;
For you must understand, this fight
Was in the dead time of the night:
Chear up my dainty Boyes, come, come,
'Tis now in vain to stand hum, drum:
You see in what a wofull plight
We 're in, it stands in hand to fight;
Kill or be kill'd, no quarter give,
We will not let these Villains live;
Although the thing doth me perplex,
Necessitas non habet Lex:
As when two Masty Dogs do fight,
And quarrel meerly out of spight;
Besure the Currs shall never lack
Some standers by, to clap their backs,
Spit in their mouths, and cry Haloo,
Thus did Æneas do so too;
But yet Æneas also fell
To it himself, and fight pell-mell;
At last we backt him, and fell to't all,
Though two to one is odds at foot-ball:
We met an hundred men or more,
When we were not above a score;
I think I'm pretty near the matter,
But yet we made their bones to clatter;
We thrasht so hard, we'd make 'um feel,
Although the Rogues were made of steel:
But who is able to recite,
The mischief that was done that night;
They broke our windows, burnt our barns,
They did us God knows how much harms;
Kill'd all our brood-hens, stole our chicks,
And serv'd us many such like tricks;
Eat all our custards, though I spoke t'um,
And pray'd um not, I wish t'ad choak'd um:
To close their stomacks last of all,
They got the Wench against the wall.
Ah! who can chuse but weep and pitty,
The loss of such a Gallant City;
Now 'tis a common thing to meet,
Dead Carcasses in every street;
So that as men do walk the town,
Sometimes they chance to tumble down;
Sometimes we light upon a Greek,
And then I think we made him reek;
Before we let him go, we worst him,
We caught Androgeos and purst him;
Who all along with us did walk
A street or two, and 'gan to talk,
For he i'th' dark, poor silly elfe,
Thought us as bad Rogues as himself;
And as you know, birds of a feather,
Most commonly do flock together.

Quoth he, come Fellow-Souldiers under
Favour, lets now begin to plunder
For honey, now let's 'gin to dive,
We'v' burnt the Bees out of their Hive:
At last he knew 'twas a mistake,
And then his heart began to ake;
He crept away, his speech did falter,
Lear'd like a dog, that slipt his halter;
And streight this melancholly Bustard,
Stood trembling like a quaking Custard:
And presently soon as he spoke,
We got him fast hold by the Cloak,
Tript up his heeles, and flung him down,
And beat him as he lay oth' ground;
We doust his chopps as he did rise,
All the foul play we could devise;
And then at last we cut off's head,
Then most did think the man was dead:
And now our men begin to try,
What they can get by policy;
One gets his Boots made of good Leather,
Another takes his Cap and Feather;
Ripheus got his Gallant Shield,
The very best in all the Field;
Another got his little Dagger,
(Dymus it was) it made him swagger:
Thus cloath'd all over in a Wolves skin,
We with the Greeks did challenge kin;
Grew wondrous great, bid him good morrow
Before 'twas light, 'twas to their sorrow;
We swore if that they'd not be civil,
We'd send them packing to the Devil:
Must they knock people on the heads,
That men can't rest within their beds;
With that we swing'd our cudgels round,
Our heads, and soon did clear the ground;
For hitty misty, soon we slew,
Some we knockt down, and some or'threw;
Women out of their windows cry'd
Ther's nothing lost but what's beside;
With that all run, and ended strife,
As they were running for their life:
Behold King Priams Oldest Daughter,
Drawn by th' hair of th' head came after:
She was a Virgin spruce and neat,
And one that could have done the feat.
King Priam would have paid her down
In marriage, near an hundred pound;
Seeing of this sight, Chorebus
Was like a mad Man, furious;
Truly he scarcely could forbear
To pull, and tear of all his hair;
Some people said they'd lay their life,
That he and she was Man and Wife;
This was that Dame, for whom his soule
Was burnt in's belly like a cole;
Sometimes he stamp't, and cry'd a pox,
And then he 'gan to wind his locks;
If's hair he cares not for a Figg,
Truly then he must wear a Wigg:
He run amongst 'um all, and fitt,
Either without much fear or wit;
Then we resolv'd to loose a limb,
Or two, or three, to rescue him;
And to't we fell, our men did fear
Their foes, it seems, when none were near;
And by our Helmets they mistook,
And us in th' dark for Grecians took;
And from our house-top broke our Files
And Ranks, with brick-bats and old tiles:
Now there began a dreadfull slaughter,
They made our bones within us chatter,
Now all our policy appears,
We cannot keep it for our ears;
Now they make signs to one another,
And there began a filthy puther;
All fall upon us now and bang us,
And some could find their hearts to hang us;
But truly that was not the fashion,
Nor yet the custome of our Nation:
Short bands are come up now a dayes,
We found out divers other wayes;
There's none of us escap'd at all,
Chorebus fared worst of all;
For that which truly is a sin,
They kickt him twice on the sore shin;
Forrh-with they all began to hy 'um,
Into the Palace of King Priam;
A pretty place it was with lock
And key, and iron bolt to knock;
But that their Captain never knocks,
But broke it open with a Pox;
The Maid comes scolding with her broom,
And swore they durt'ed every room;
Quoth she, what serves the mat at door,
But for to wipe your hoofes before
You enter in; thus having said,
She flings away, a tite neat Maid;
Yet they resolv'd forward to budge,
And made the wench to be their trudge;
Up stairs they run unto the King,
And here they fight like any thing;
Off goes their bands, and to't they go,
I know not who struct the first blow;
And when they'd done, they gin to send
Away, what they could rap and rend;
Pure Feather-beds, Blankets, and Bolsters,
Folks said they sold them at th' Upholsters;
New flaxen sheets, as white as snow,
Ther's no help for 'um, all must go;
Tho for those sheets her Highness crav'd,
Alas! there was not one rag sav'd;
And what was worse (these were but trash)
They seized upon all the Kings Cash;
Some kept the door with naked sword
So stout, they'd scarcely speak a word:
I saw all well enough, for I
Lurk't in a hole most cunningly,
Top of a house, where we laught whiles
We broke their heads with piece of tiles;
At last the Grecians burnt our Fort,
And so they spoyled all our sport;
Feeling their num-sculls ake in ire,
The Kings house now they gan to fire;
They light their squibs with bits of match,
Fung 'um for th' once amongst the thatch,
And that began to reek and smoak,
Enough the King and Queen to choak;
They pull'd up all the posts and benches,
And made sad rout among'st the wenches,
Flung stones, & some broke all the casemts,
At that the King was in amazement;
All the carv'd works they tumbled down,
And lay in heaps upon the ground;
Money enough I'm sure it cost,
Abundance of good Timber lost;
The chamber where the King and Queen were,
Now lies like any thorough-fare;
Yet some will say tell's what became
Of this King Priam and his Dame;
The King was old, and had gin o're
To fight, being pretty near fourscore;
But when they did him thus incite,
No flesh alive could chuse but fight;
He steps and fetches out his Dagger,
And is resolv'd to go and Swagger;
But being old, pray understand,
That he was no man of his hands;
And as he marcht along, behold
An antient Laurel Tree ('twas old;)
Hecuba when they did assault her,
Hither me flew into an Altar,
She and her Daughters all flock thither,
As Pigeons flock in rainy weather;
Or, as when in a Summers Day,
Maids in the Fields are making Hay,
If it doth chance to rain they fly,
Unto a Hay-cock presently.
She seeing of her Husband stout,
Going amongst the rabble rout,
Lord, quoth she, he's a weakly Causlet,
I think has more need of a Possit;
She beckned, call'd him by his name,
At last, he hearing of her came;
Quoth she, my love, what makes thee here,
They'v' over-come us all I fear;
Alass! thou canst do little good,
Thy blowes are easily withstood;
Come stand with us, let's care not whether
They'v' beat, we'll live or dye together:
Thus said, she took him by the hand,
So he obeyed her command;
Potites then a lusty Boy,
Son of King Priam King of Troy,
Came running by, did cry and hallo,
Pyrrhus soon after him did follow,
A lusty thief, able you know
To knock a youth down, at one blow;
Just at this Altar him he took
And slew; the old man could not brook,
But call'd him Rogue, Son of a Whore,
To slay his Son at his own door:
And like a fool, though still among
His foes, yet could not hold his tongue;
The man was mad, his fingers itch,
Takes him a good kick on the breech;
With that he starts, and cryes, why so,
What's that for you Sir? do you know;
Quoth th' old man, shall I tell you why,
Takes him o'th' chaps immediately;
Pyrrhus at that began to swear,
Runs to him, gets him by the hair;
Th' old man cryes out, show no foul play,
You coward, let me rise, I say;
For truly as most people said,
He had a vile tongue in his head;
Yet Pyrrhus stabb'd him on the ground,
Cut's throat, and laid him in a swound:
Æneas seeing things so sad,
Truly was in a manner mad.
Now with himself he 'gan to think,
What he should do for meat and drink;
Thought of his Father and his Wife,
Devis'd how he might save their life,
His little Boy, Julus him
He vows he'l save, if sink or swim;
He saw his Men for fear of harms,
Were gone, and flung down all their arms;
As you know turn-spits lear and run
Away, when they the wheele do shun;
As who should say, the cursed Elfes,
Command your doggs, and do't your selfes:
And he poor man walking alone,
Spy'd Helen sitting on a stone,
That very self same ugly puss,
That made our town be ransackt thus;
For had it not been for that Queen,
None of this mischief ne're had been;
She privily did lurk for fear,
As if for sooth no man should see her;
Thus when he understood the matter,
He was e'n mad for to be at her:
For, quoth he, shall this ugly puss,
Be let alone in quiet thus?
Shall she go home to Greece and brag,
She has not left us worth a rag?
No, no, quoth he, it shan't be thus,
Marry come up my dirty Cuz;
And with his Sword went in a Freak,
To put the Woman to the Squeak;
But yet he with himself thus thought,
To kill a Woman were but nought,
And truly 'tis a thing not common,
To set ones wit against a Woman:
As he was thinking this and tother,
Who should Æneas spy but's Mother;
She came from Heav'n with her bright eye,
As if she had been a God a mighty:
Quoth she, what art thou Bedlam grown?
Was ever such a Villain known
To fall upon a Woman kind,
Go meddle with thy match, thou fiend:
Where hast thou left thy good old grandsire,
Go keep him safe like any man Sir?
Be quick, and save thy Boy, thy Wife,
They'l be undone I'le lay my life;
Make hast, things now are not well pleasing,
Ther's difference 'twixt farting & sneezing,
'Twas neither Tyndarus nor Paris
But Jove, that fires all the Daryes:
Thus said, she vanisht from his sight,
He askt her blessing, so good night.
Now was he in a peck of fears,
In troubles over head and ears;
Many attempts he made and puttons,
He whin'd as though his arse made buttons;
He saw all fire round about 'um,
Somtime he thought for to have fought um;
But they were all such plagy swashers,
They laid about 'um all like thrashers;
He saw that Plot would not prevail,
He knew not how to use a flayle;
And so in such a sad condition,
He ran and flung down his commission;
Thought best to take his Mothers council,
And hasted to his Fathers groundsil,
Where soon as ever he got there,
He found his Grand-sire in a chair;
Truly I think so Jove would have it,
His Dad was safe at home (God save it;)
And tho Æneas fain would trudge,
This cross old man swore he'd not budge;
Let me alone, quoth he, in ire,
I'm warm enough, here's a good fire;
Go fight my Boyes, you'r young and lusty,
I'le take my chance my Trojan trusty;
Æneas begg'd of this old tost,
And would have kist his breech almost;
He begg'd along time for God sake,
Yet he's as stiff as any stake:
With that a warlike Resolution,
Æneas puts in Execution,
Girds on his sword, tho ne're the nigher,
Plucks a good club out of the fire,
And is resolv'd out of a pet,
To kill the first Greek that he met;
But yet his Wife she fetcht him back,
With a good Cudgel at his back;
For he would let her (silly fool)
Comb his head with a three leg'd stool:
She brought him home, here gan the racket
Creusa soundly bang'd his jacket;
Sirra quoth she, keep within doors,
Run me no runs amongst your whores;
You are a pretty youth to fight,
Pray are you not? marry go—
You'l fling your cap against the wind,
And leave your Wife and Child behind;
With ladle then in spight of fate,
She made a shift to break his pate;
Poor man he quickly past it o're,
He'd many a broken pate before;
He clapt his hand upon his breech,
To show he minded not her speech;
Anchises now mid'st these despaires,
Held up his fists and fell to prayers,
He was an old cunning Impostor,
Rattled out many a Pater noster;
He told his beads, was very Apish,
For folks say, he was a rank Papish:
Then Jove heavens cloudy vault did tear,
Like an almighty Canoneer;
And after that a star they spide a
Shooting from our lot to Mount Ida;
There it did glide and gently hie,
And gave them items how to fly;
The good old man was glad to see 't,
And then began to handle his feet,
He pray'd this Star to stand his friend,
Away he walkt and ther's an end.
Not far from thence good people there is
A Country House of Farmer Ceres,
Where hobnayl'd Louts do use to labour
And thrash a Gig to Pipe and Tabor;
That was the House we all did chuse,
Wherein to make our Rendevouz.
Thus said, he took up his Old Sire,
Brought him a pick pack through the fire;
He took his little Boy by th' fist,
His Wife could foot it if she list;
She was a lusty Quean could trudge,
And thirty Miles together budge;
And he that Greeks so lately slighted,
Is now at his own shadow frighted;
For coming to unlatch the door,
We heard a very great uproar;
Fly, fly, my Son, quoth old Ancluses,
Or else we shall be cut in slices;
Amaz'd to think of further strife,
Walking by-paths he lost his Wife:
Now he was in a deadly fright,
Never in such a wofull plight,
He lookt, and lookt, but ne'r the near,
The fewer, tho the better chear:
We met at Ceres Mannour; all
But that old toast that rotten squal;
And finding there no hope to get her,
He curst and swore in terms most bitter
To lose ones Wife, me thought was much,
He swore he'd have another touch:
Up to Troy Town he made a sally,
He searcht all Corners, each blind Ally;
In Juno's house Ulisses stood,
He and his Dame with all their Brood;
To these the Souldiers brought the plunder,
The Pot, the Pot-hookes, never wonder,
The dripping Pan; (this comes of strife)
The skellet, and the chopping knife;
When I had por'd in every hole,
At last I spy'd Creusa's soul;
I shook, but truly could not speak,
She came from th' Devil's Arse of Peak;
But she spake like the Devil's Dam,
A flattring Slut, 'twas but a flam;
Saith she, hang sorrow, cast off care,
For every man will have his Mare;
It was not this when I did bid thee,
Now there's no help for't, no remedie;
Ye all must wander ('gainst your hips-ease,
Like Errand Knights, or Roguish Gipsies;
At Carthage, till you do arrive,
Truly the Gods did thus contrive;
Then thou shalt fish on Tybers Ouse,
And catch red Herrings with hard roes;
Thou shalt be rich, eat Grapes, stu'd Quinsies,
Marry, but not a German Princess:
Weep not for me my dear with ill moanes,
With tears as big as any Mill-Stones;
Two Mirmidons, nor Dollop chuffs,
Shall I be had with Iron cuffs;
Nor wait on Grecian Lady gay,
For I'm as well, and warm as they;
Venus is my Mother in Law,
For all the Grecians then a straw.
And now farewell my Chuck, my Joy,
My Love, I pray thee to the Boy;
Having thus sed, she did depart,
In wind that whistled like a fart:
Thrice strove I for to clip and kiss her,
So many times just I did miss her;
And now return'd I back again
Unto my much recruted men;
Rogues, whores, with Bastards at their backs
Came to transport themselves by packs,
What Sea or Land so're I took,
They'd go with me by hook or crook;
And now the day began to peep,
'Tis time for Rogues to go to sleep:
Seeing Troy Town was gone to wrack,
He got his Father on his back,
And having gone about a mile,
Stay'd here to rest himself a while.

And thou Cajeta, my dry Nurse,
With bags as lank as empty purse
Hast christned all our Coast & Strands
‘(As that old Earl did Gudwin sands)
Her foster Son (when she was dead)
Pitching a Stone at her Graves-head
'Fore a soft breeze, and by Moon-light
Set sayle, and bid the Coast good night.
Into a Neighbour Bay he pierces,
And so sayl'd by the Coast of Circes;
This Circes was a damn'd proud Witch,
She was Phœbs Child, and plaguy rich,
I'th' wood she kept a Vaulting School,
Whither came many a precious tool;
(As dirty Trulls) when this Old Baude
And they were drunk, wt work they made,
She'd bind the Bores that came to woo 'um
So fast, the Dile could not undoe 'um,
“She'd strip 'um to their shirts and rockets,
“And then the whores would pick their pockets:
Strange dins were heard there still; and roaring,
“Then Bedlam worse: (this comes of whoring;)
“All sorts came here, from Fair to Neger,
“Well custom'd 'twas as Hollands Leaguer:
“This noyse still held from Lamb to Lark,
“Have you not heard of Whetstones Park?
No one came there, (or few at least)
But brought a Man, and left a Beast;
She would entice men, and deface:
In short; it was a beastly place.
She fed her Family with Sallets,
And doz'd their brains with witched Ballads;
“A Mother Damnable, a Twinger,
“Just such another Ballad Singer
“As this is, with her hoarse old man,
“Howles dolefull Sonnets in the Stran;
“Alluring Prentices, and Porters
“Both from their messages & their morters.
“She hinders those that carry Chairs
“From many a nap, and from their Fares:
“The Coach-men too, like lolling lobs,
“(To hear them quaver) lose their jobs.

Now cause Æneas should avoid
These hazzards, and not be destroy'd,
Neptune gave this Soldade in Buff,
A nimble and a lusty puff,
Till Lucifer made Neptune blush,
Which done, the winds were still and hush.
Æneas now 'mong Rocks though harbour'd
Discover'd a great wood a Star-board;
The Stream he rid on was a Neighbour,
First letter of its name was Tyber;
“The Cuckow whistl'd, birds sing shrill,
“By which I guess 'twas April:
Sometimes they'd hover o're the stream,
“To catch a Cod-fish or a Bream:
Here he his Sea-men did intreat,
To go ashore and purve for meat.

And now my Pen shall set before ye,
Who dwelt upon this Territory,
What Kings were there, and who Sir Gaunts
“(This was before we heard of Turbants.)
I'le shew ye too (for that will toll ye on)
Whether the Country, or Tarpollian
Gave dodgers blow, or the first touch,
“(And that ye know is very much.)

This place was Rul'd then by one Latin
Well aged, and a Chair he sat in;
The Towes that this old man did keep,
Were all as rich as new sheer'd sheep;
His Fathers Name was Master Fanus,
“(I hope he doth not mean to Cane us:)
Marica was his Dam, a goddess
“As true, as e're was lac'd in Boddess.
Picus to Fanus was a Father,
Indeed I think so too; the rather
Because I've heard by an old Matron,
Picus was Son to Father Saturn.
“Now any Trojan let me see,
“Shew such another Pedegree?
“Yes, I know one of Trojan Stock,
“From Adam, unto Canadoc.

Now Latin (as ye'l see here after)
Had no Son, but one onely Daughter,
A bounsing Lass, (I do not Fable)
She's in the teens, and Marriagable,
Courted by many; well endow'd,
Which two things made her—proud:
But Turnus was the man most trim,
“She oftentimes would mump at him;
Her Mother was (loath to hinder sport)
Was hot, (as Pitch) and clearly for't;
But nightly Visions off did stave it,
And dash'd it (as the Devil would have it.)

A Reverent Tree grew in the Yard,
Which Latin unto Phæbus rear'd;
So for that Laurel Tree Phæbe sent 'um
A goodly Dorp, eclyp'd Laurentum;
This Laurel having a thick fleece,
There pitch'd upon't a swarm of Bees,
A goodly sight it was be Jiesse;
Their weight did make the Laurel tear,
(Jove, what a buzzing now was there!)
They cling, as fast to Cypresse brows
As unto skin, a Beggers lowse:
By this tree stood a certain Prophet,
(Having receiv'd advise from Tophet;)
And told 'um that a far fetch'd Sir,
Was coming on with switch and spur;
To conquer Master Latins people,
And fling the Bells out of the Steeple;
Beside all this, Lavinia
Stood by her Fathers side I saw
Killing a Pigg (then roasting lesser)
In Phæbus Kitchen, on his Dresser;
The candle sindg'd off every lock,
She burn'd her self unto her smock;
This chance begot a mighty stench,
(Sure she was a hot headed Wench;)
The Martyr'd Lice (like squibs) did crack,
At last the fire went out each flake:
“The Master Cookes this sight espying,
“Admired how she miss'd a frying;
“So all concluded this escape,
“Preserv'd her to make Broth and Pape;
“And that Sir Phæbe design'd this Jewel
“To poach his Eggs, and make his Grewel;
“For whom the Family I doubt
“E're long will quarrel, and fall out.

But Squire Latin not content,
To sit down by this accident,
Away to Father Fanus trips,
To hear the Sentence of his lips;
To Albumea's Woods and Springs,
In all post-hast himself he flings;
“From Laurent 'tis as distant far,
“As Oxford is from Shot-over;
Thither goes he by a fooles fire,
A spirit-hunting for his Sire:
This is the place where Clown, and Court,
To Pharie-Dancing do resort;
The grave Priest too, this wood ascends
With his Parishioners, and Friends;
And there the People, and these Elves,
Steal Sheep all night, and feast themselves;
So when th' ave emptied all their Pipkins,
They go to sleep upon the Sheep-skins;
There many Visions he saw clear,
Many strange voices did he hear:
The gods he spake to, they were Civil,
And then he went unto the Devil;
And when he was in Limbo deep,
The Devil bid him steal more sheep;
According to this word of spright,
He kill'd a hundred full that night,
He brought 'um all to his Abettors,
Unto these gods his chief Resettors;
I shin'd 'um (quoth he) upon my bum,
“For they'l not speak unless I bribe 'um;
At length, as he slept on the fleeces,
He heard a loud voice through the breezes;
Doest mean t' Espouse (for he did list)
Thy Daughter to a Latinist:
“To wed her to an Heritage,
“No letter then poor Vickarage,
“To bring her that so high doth look
“To tithe Piggs, and her Easter Book:
No here's a Souldier (take my word)
Coming, will have her by the sword;
“One that, whose chaps already water,
“He's mad, believe me, to be at her;
A back of steel, and iron sides,
And on a wooden horse he rides:
Her Joynture shall be all the World,
(He rides at Anchor with sayles furl'd;)
This a good match is (I can tell ye)
She shall bring Children by the Belly.

These things old Latin through the Cities
Dispers'd in Ballads and in Ditties;
When to the shore Æneas tow'd
His Shallop, and the Sea-men row'd;
He, and his Captains, and his Son,
Came all to Land there one by one;
And down they sat (for they were sharp set)
Earth was their Table, Grass their Carpet,
Their dinner they pluck'd out of basket,
Saith old Æneas there's one Cask yet
“Of Drams, (but I can't tell what sort tis)
“But as I guess 'tis Aqua Fortis:
“A Soveraign Doz for Souldiers bashful,
“Then every Captain drink a glass full:
Their fenow'd Cheese, their oaten Cakes,
Their Crusts, their Cracknels and poor Jacks
Were all produc'd, the place upon
With Chestnuts, yea and Apple John;
Then for pure want their idle Gums,
They exercis'd with pocket Crums;
Then each destroy'd (for they did whisk it,
Their trenchers which was stone-hard bisket;
The Boy Ascanins as he play'd
Cryes, have we on our Tables paid?
No more Pares of that pot he said:
“A learned speech of great concerning,
“(For he had learn'd in's youth much learning)
“It made 'um wonder I protest,
“Where a Devil lies the jest?
His Father understood the Riddle,
Then with his prayers he did piddle;
Welcome we are (as I may say)
Unto our destin'd soyle from Troy;
Ye Trojan gods (of all the Prime)
I'le trust ye now another time;
This is the Land which (ye O so wise)
Did by my Father to me promise;
Where we should eat our table broken
For hunger. “Well fare a good token.
“Let every Souldier bring his Drab in,
Here set thy rest and build thy Cabin;
This Famine 'twas gods did fore-cast,
So now the worst is gone and past.

Wherefore to morrow by day break,
Lets search each corner and each creek,
To find the Natives out, and Towns,
Lets march from hence in our Sea-Gowns;
Lets drink a whole one then to Jove,
And to Anchises that's above;
“Fill, fill it out, this makes a brace up,
“Here's t'ee then Gentlemen a grace cup;
“So after every man had drunk hard,
“In's Can as big as Water-Tankard:
Æneas then his light head bound,
Good night (saith he) and on the ground
He rowl'd, but next morn he was so dry,
He dream'd that Fountains did him go by
Of Fairy Queens, and Women Sprights
Of Stars, and many more good nights;
He on his Parents out did yell,
This in Heaven, that in Hell.
But chiefly Iove was in his mind,
Sure there was something in the wind;
Three times did Iove break clouds & lighten
Which did disturb the air though brighten;
Then news was brought (O that was nuts)
That they must now set up their hutts;
Then every one was welly sped,
Since he must get a house for's head;
Their Wifes who sat before like ghosts,
Where drunk with ale and cakes (old tosts)
But they turn out next day by time,
To find the tricks of this new clime;
They search below at top of Mountain,
At last they found a Cristal Fountain,
And that was Tyber, at that brook,
The Latins dwell in little nook:
Æneas sent a hundred Wights
To these new people (in good plights)
Their heads they dress'd with Olive branch
And went for peace in habit stanch;
Some of the gnits were damnifie'd,
“So did suspect they'd be deny'd;
“As Wheat, and Barly, Pease, and Rice,
“Whole Loafs of Sugar, baggs of Spice;
“Of Flannel, Shooes, and many an Ell wet
“Of Scotch-Cloath, and of Beggers Velvet;
Away they hoof't it every one,
With Pedlar Pack each back upon;
Whil'st Old Æneas out did vamp,
To find a place to fix his Camp;
And now the hundred Merchants are
From Latins town not very far;
When Rustickly, but not like Perees)
They jogg'd to town like Marketeers;
The Prentises and little Boyes
With Hoby-Horses play'd, and toyes,
Some to their Bowes and Arrowes truss'd,
Were there, and made a wofull dust;
Others with Lances in did nestle,
Others made matches for to wrestle;
Among the rest two rogues (Iove sutter um)
Rode to the King (brave rogues in Buckrum)
And told him here were strangers come,
They knew not what to make of 'um;
The King (no more now to speak Latin)
Sent for these Pilgrims whilst he sat in
Council of State; this Council-House
“Did quarter many a Rat and Mouse,
“Supported by a hundred Props,
Of the best trees in all the Cops;
Beset with Elder Trees and Thistles,
With ore-grown Reeds which made um whistles:
At one end wallow'd Hogs and Cows,
And at the other Folks did lowse;
And eat, and drink, and sleep on strawes,
The out-side haunted was with Dawes.
In Dicus time this Hall was gay,
“But all is mortall, Grass and Hay;
Here Scepter hangs, the Crown and all,
This place was Minster, Court, and Hall;
Here stood long Forms for all the Rabble,
There sat the Knights of the round Table:
Great Images of Kings there stood,
Who for their Country spent their blood;
Both Ittalus and Sabine Kings,
Stood there with many other things;
Saturn and Janus in the Porch,
Might both be seen without a Torch:
Over these hung deaths mortal foes,
Spits, Butchers-Axes, and great Crows;
“Bucklers of Beef, Collars of Brawn,
“Cover'd with Spiders-Cob-web-laun;
Here Picus sat in Back and Breast,
With a great Helmet and a Crest,
A riding-rod; and all this geer,
He was a good Horse-Officer;
Circes transform'd him (being his Wife)
Into a Jay during his Life;
She gave him poak and venemous progg,
Enough to poyson any Dogg;
She knock'd his pate till he was dead half,
With a malicious Oaken bed-staff:
At last he flew into a Grove,
And needs must go th' Devil drove.

There sat Latinus thus equip'd,
And spake to Trojans so eclyp'd;
Tell me ye Trojans true and doughty,
I am in earnest, (I not flout ye)
What lack ye Sirs? what make ye here?
In Italy, out of your Sphære?
Have ye been with fierce storms oppress'st
With winds a Head at East Nore East?
Who was your Pilot thus that tow'd
Ye so safe into our Roade?
Pluck up your hearts, and never fear,
Ye shall be well treated here:
I came from Saturn, the World knows,
And must do right spite of my Nose;
And now I think on't, I have heard one
Say of our Country was your Dardan,
How he went hence in wild goose chase
Through Asia, and to Sumo-thrace;
He's dead and gone (heavens peace be with him)
So much he said, if you'l believe him.

Then Ilionius clad in Sattin,
To him as followeth spake; Latin
No dogged star, cross-winds or weather
Cast us a shore, or brought us hither;
We came of purpose, 'twas our doom,
To get a little elbow-room;
For we our Asia did avoid,
Because our City was dis***** Troy'd;
Our Pedegree sweet Sir from Iove is,
And he you know Sir still above is.
Æneas is our head Commander,
And made us all this way to wander;
“Who likewise is (as fame assures)
“A sorry Kinsman Sir of yours;
By him we hither were directed,
From you we hope to be protected:
The Greeks on us did pour a tempest,
That way as it did seem to them best;
Europe and Asia (this you well knew
Before as well as I can tell you)
Are by the eares, yea all the world
From Pole to Pole in Armes is hurl'd:
At length from all this blood, and bad luck,
We hither rowl'd o're Whale and Hadduck;
And hope you'l give us quarter fair,
And leave to take Sir the fresh ayr;
To you of no losse this doth savour,
And we shall take it as a favour;
Your name by this too will be up,
And you may lye a bed and sup.
By Æneas hand that's call'd the right,
(If any dare with him to fight)
We might have conquer'd many a Nation,
And never come here on this fashion
To beg Plantations, or an Almes,
To sue for peace thus with these Palmes;
We have been tendered Sir terms high,
And glad too for our Company:
But we were led by hand of Heaven,
And by strange tokens six or seven;
Who taught us for to play this new trick
To dwell by Tyber, and Well Numick:
We'l live like neighbours, not at odds,
We shall not trouble you for gods.
Æneas, Sir, by us hath sent ye
Some token, which I here present ye;
“He's forced, Sir, away to give 'um,
“He knows not, Sir, what do with 'um.
This is Anchises Nut-brown bowle
For mornings-draughts he drank it awle:
This Vest is Priams winter Jacket,
Before you dye Sir, you may lack it;
This is the stick (under the Rose)
With which he made him friends or foes:
Here are Mantles, Caps, and Cloaks,
And Net-work Lace of Trojan Folks;
When Ilioneus thus had vented,
Latin look'd something discontented:
The Gifts he valued not a jot,
But thinks now on his Daughters lot;
How Fanus told him in night starry,
That she a stranger was to marry,
From whom much Issue stout and bold
Should be produced, hold belly hold;
(As lately 'twas declar'd by Prophet,
Nay this is true Sir never scoff it)
Which should subdue a world of wights,
“For many should be Errant Knights.

Thou shalt have Trojan thy request,
Gods work our meanings to the best;
This Plunder though I mean to take
And keep it for your Masters sake;
Then this to understand I give,
Ye shall not want whilst I do live.
Then your Captain hither send me,
If he mean for to befriend me;
I have a Daughter full of lust,
My Neighbours with her I'le not trust;
She is a strangers Wife to be,
“(For Marriage comes by destinie;)
“She must take man by hook or crook,
As I am told by Prophets Book;
If this then be that man of chance,
“That must like Colonel advance;
Then let him come, and take his lot,
“For I dare swear she fears him not;
She's full of blood and such like stuff,
“Her Neighbours know her well enough.

When he had done he bid a Tagg-ragg,
To bring each Trojan a Padd-nagg,
“Pack-saddl'd even unto the Nock,
“And swift almost as Race-Horse Peacock;
“Their breast were hung with bells; a mode
Which Carriers Horses have o'th' Road;
He sent their Chief a painted Waggon,
“The Horses in't did Don-like lagg on;
A blessed crew 'twas Circes Joke,
For she that Jade, made them wind-broke;
How could they choose, when every one,
Were got by Horses of the Sun:
After such Loones, and tedious ridings,
They did return with peacefull tidings.

And Juno now Joves teasty bed-gift,
(A special friend sure at a dead lift)
Observ'd these things & Greeks did wish ill,
Standing upon the Cape of Sicill;
She could discern each Sloop and Whirry,
And see 'um all a shore full merry;
She sees Æneas building Hutts,
Which vex'd the Vixon to the Gutts;
She shook her head, and in this fit.
Her venome thus out she did spit;

Ye spawn of Toades, Fortune thou Bawd,
To make me alwayes ranting mad;
To fret me still with their successe
They dy'd, at least they lay breathless;
They were all caught, yet they are fled,
Were burn'd, and yet were not burned,
They made escapes through fires forthwith,
Are planted well spite of my teeth;
I them pursu'd as far as hither,
And Conjur'd alwayes for foul weather;
I made Sea's rowle, and rain out burst,
(But Foxes fare best when th' are curs'd;)
Caribdis, Sylla's craggy Rocks
Did me no service (with a Pox;)
Nor Syrtes shoales, that shift each day,
Are they not up in Tibers Bay?
In spite of what I could conspire,
Have they not got their hearts desire?
Yet Ceostaurs great by strength ('twas Marses,)
Were all laid flat upon their ------
Diana also got a boon,
To wreak on antient Callidon,
As long as man stood ground upon;
But I Ioves Concubine you see,
Can get no Powers to pimp for me;
All stones I turn'd, and all shifts made,
And still cross fortune did me Jade.
Æneas with his Trojan pack,
Hath laid me flat upon my back;
And since the gods are so uncivil,
I mean to go unto the Devil:
But yet the Devil were he by,
Can't keep 'um out of Italy;
The Wench in spite of fate will marry,
Yet I'le find means to make her tarry;
To war and strife I'le them exhort,
The only way to spoyle their sport.
“(Æneas must be Latines Son,
“Good Mother scold when all is done;
Yet my advise, the Devil bid Joy,
Shall ruine them as Paris did Troy;
For 'tis not Hecuba that old Bitch,
Shall carry fire in her sole Breech;
But like success I give this Lowne,
As Paris had to burn a Town:
This said (like Quaker) in a swound,
Or trance, she fell flat on the ground,
She look'd full grisly, and all sleck'd hoe,
And out of Dungeon call'd Alecto:
This is the Dam I tell ye on,
That hatcheth all Rebellion;
Invents Lampoons, Slanders, and Jeers,
And sets all Nations by the eares;
Her Sisters hate her since she grew so,
So likewise doth her Father Pluto;
A rigid tool, her skin in flakes
Is, as the Serpents are, and Snakes;
To her thus spake Malignant Iuno,
Having Alecto at her true bow.

Thou Devils Dam in Hell a Fryar,
Do that for me which desire;
This task is thine, (I would 'twere finisht)
Let not my Honour be deminish't;
To let the Trojans come so patt in,
And live at peace with that fool Latin:
Let him not get a foot of Land,
Let him not marry, but be hang'd;
Thou can'st make bate, the Devil and all,
And Brethren can'st make out to fall;
Thou can'st whole Cities quite destroy,
“And raise each Prentice to a Boy;
Thou can'st burn houses, whil'st the watch
“Stand by, to see what they can catch;
Then rouze thee up, and streight be gone,
And arm 'um all each Mothers Son.

She ply'd her thus, and with much force spake
At last the Devil got a horse-back,
To Latium she took her flight,
And on the Kings House did alight;
Her business was to Queen Amata,
To whom in Chamber she did prate a,
Who was much vex'd, and put to distress,
Least Turnus now should loose his Mistress;
This Angel then so black to bite her,
Into her bosome flung a Viper;
To put the Houshold in disorder,
Much trouble this Snake did afford her;
He coyl'd himself as round as Peck,
And made a Neck-lace for her Neck;
Young Snakes did hyss too within her jaws,
Then she would dangle like a hair-lace;
Then in her locks heed rowle and play,
Then in Meanders glide away;
Whil'st poyson soaks in to her heart,
Shot thither by his sting the Dart,
Where resting it, did much inflame her,
But yet the speech she made was tamer,
She spake as Whores do to their Bastards,
And of the match with Trojan Dastards.

And must Lavinia wed a vagrant
O Latin? Yes, I'le hold a wager on 't,
Hast thou no more regard to Me,
To Her, thy Self? (thou Humble Bee;)
Who when the wind doth once blow north
This Pirat means to curry forth;
“To spirit her streight through a Gun-Port,
And rob me of my greatest comfort;
Hath not the like bin done before,
By Paris, and a many more?
Where is the care now of thy Countrie,
Of Apple, Pear-tree, and of Plum-tree,
And of thy faith to Turnus plighted,
This is not well, would I were Knighted?
If she must have a Traveller,
As Fanus bids, then farewell her;
Then all those Realms that are not ours
Are alike strange, (so mean the Powers;)
And Turnus here your Couzin Garman,
Hath as much reason to be her man:
Of Inac's and Acrisius race,
You'l find him, and of Græcian place.

With such like flams she felt Latinus,
But she could not undermine us;
Then more poyson was to her sent,
By that scaly subtill Serpent;
So with Monsters was she frayted,
And with Faries was she bayted;
She rayl'd, and rov'd about the streets,
And frighteth every one she meets;
Much like, as when a strong set man,
Whirls wooden-bolt at Welch Knapan;
The Gamesters follow, and with knocks,
They bang about this Bowle of Box:
So she every way did rayle,
Like an old wither'd trundle tayle;
Beside, when none of this would take,
A greater mischief she doth make,
She hides her Daughter in a Brake;
To hinder Trojans their demands:
Thus did this Scold forbid the Banes;
They whoop, and halloe, and on Bacchus
They call, who with Sack did bethwack us;
“The Woman rav'd, and were as drunk,
“As driven snow, or nasty Punk;
Only for thee, fit is this Virgin,
'Tis only thou that shalt bait her Gin;
'Tis thou that doest with Swords and Spears
When drunk, for Wench go by the eares;
With powder'd locks, to dance and caper,
To swagger for thy Whore, and vapour;
Amata sent these Wifes a gadding,
Up Mountains high, they went a madding;
Quitted their Houses with their fears,
With all their hair about their ears,
They shriek'd, and howl'd like frantick chaunters,
And naked danc'd like charmed Ranters;
Among these Folks, this Queen of Faries
Came: (for madness there no cure is)
Where jetting with their o're-grown panches,
And in their hands Rosemary-Branches;
The Queen to Turnus (I assure ye)
Proclaim'd her Daughter Bride de Jure,
And like a gormondizing Sinner,
She there provides a Wedding Dinner;
And thus she said, O fellow Matrons,
If Latins ye accept for Patrons;
Put off your Coyffs, and eke your Partlets,
And dance a round with all our hearts lets.
Lets sing a Catch in Bacchus Praise,
And so to Mountains go our wayes;
To Woods, and Desarts let us fly,
And lets be mad for Company:
So she mad Slut with all her Sect ho,
Were pack'd away by Dam Alecto.

When she had thus turn'd topsie turvie
Old Latins House, like Huswife scurvy,
Away she posts to Rutill City,
To Turnus too, (the more's the pitty)
'Twas built by Danue offer storms,
“Who angl'd there for fish with worms;
'Twas call'd Ardea by Ancester,
“Of date, as ancient as West-Chester;
It fortun'd Turnus in night black-o,
As he was sleeping in Hamacio;
This Devil's bird came in her own shape,
With wither'd face (as old Shak-nape,
To shew her grisly hair she was loath,
With Olive branch (and yet she was wroth)
Of Calibee Dame Juno's Templar,
She was the only true Exemplar:
These words to Turnus eares streight-wayes,
Like peremptory Hagg conveyes;
Hast thou bin Turnus thus long wooing,
And now let other folks be doing?
Latin doth slight thee, like a dead block,
And unto thee denies the Wedlock;
A doting fool to give his Grange-base,
Unto a Trojan and a strange face;
Send him a Challenge, thou't be reckon'd
A Coward else; I'le be thy second:
These things Iuno bad me tell thee,
If thou still sleep, it will not well be;
Muster thy People, and begone
To Cudgells every Mothers Son;
Swaddle their sides, knock down their Leaders,
Burn their Cock-boats made of Cedars;
Thus tis resolv'd by those above,
If Latin won't be rul'd by Iove;
Then may you Turnus make him rue,
The time he ever buffl'd you.

It was reply'd, thou stinking whore,
The Boates that ride on Tybers shore,
I have had notice of before,
Nor call me Coward: Goody Iuno
Is my friend too, toads-face you know;
I know thee old Tost well enough,
A stinking piece of Stigian stuff;
In vain thy self doest toss and tumble
With mens, and State-Affairs to fumble,
Go sweep thy house (or else I'le make thee)
Go pray, and so the Devil take thee;
Let me alone with peace to quarrel,
And be reveng'd old brimstone-barrel;
What now became of him you shall see,
This mad Jade struck him with a palsie;
He stur'd, she made an ugly mouth,
And sent him Snakes West and by South;
His eyes did burn and glare with red,
And something he would fain have sed,
But she forbad; and from her hair,
Of Serpents sent to him a pair;
Then thus she spake, and taunted at him,
She smoak'd him, and like Bear did bait him;
Lo here the Woman that doth dote,
A Beldam, and a Mother Trott:
I can War, and make Kings quiver,
Look to thy self then thou white Liver.

With that she said (being much uncivil)
Lo here I rake Hell, and skin Devil;
Bring from my Dungeon full of smother,
War in one hand, death in t'other:
Thus said, like an infernal spell,
She flung at him a Brand of Hell:
Then he awak'd in fearful sweat,
For Crab-tree stick he doth intreat,
He scarcheth all, and bed-straw turns,
His Indignation fiercely burns;
As when a Pot for Cabbidge Porredge
Is set to boyle for mortals forrage,
The Liquor leaps, and makes a bubling,
Runs over, keeps a mighty troubling;
Nor can receive the vapour trimly,
It sent up to the smoaky chimny;
To Latin now he sends defiance,
And means to fight without complyance;
He means to clear the Coast of Pirats,
And save the Country from such sly Rats;
For he intends now to go fierce on,
And fight it out with both in person;
He pray'd his gods to joyn i'th' slaughter,
They did, and flung an old shooe after;
Then the young Shavers, those that durst,
Strove whose pate should be broken first;
Activity of Youth so comely,
Spurr'd them to fight for Mother Homely;
One thought that he had made long since,
Himself at Cuffs a Petty Prince;
Another thinks for to exceed,
His Father, if his Nose should bleed.

Whilest Turnus thus into each Rutill
Of courage, had infused a due fill;
Alecto with her Devils wings,
Came to the Trojans and their springs;
She spied Ascanius the Boy,
Shoting at Deer that ran away;
And as this little Baby bunting,
Was shooting Beasts, and hard a hunting,
This 'noynted Quean, she Belzebub,
Among'st the Hounds did make a Rubb;
She cast a trayne, and fill'd their noses,
With scent of Hart which interposes;
This afterwards did bring on this thief,
Full store of ill luck, and of mischief;
The Plough-men first growl'd at the hounds,
For tracking down their new made mounds,
A Hart there was, with horns well spred,
Which Tyrrhus Children tamely bred;
He Tutor was to Latin's wild beasts,
He was his Grasier kept his Oxe nests;
Silvia was his Daughter, and
Had this Harts-horns at her command;
She'd trick them up with flowers and garlands,
She'd wash and kemb him with her fair hands;
Sometimes he'd eat at's Masters Table,
Sometimes he'd feed amongst the Rabble;
Sometimes he to the woods was bent,
And came back the same way he went;
Being one time an out-lying Deer,
(Ascanins Doggs came being in the rear)
The Hart at soyle too by Brook clear;
The young man stark mad at this yonker,
Dispatch'd from's bow a lusty forker,
For he ne'r yet saw such a porker:
Alecto unwilling to retard cutts,
Caus'd him to shoot him to the hard gutts:
The Hart he streight-way home-ward drew,
And made great noises, not a few;
“When he came in, he cry'd help, help,
“(Was ever such a simple whelp;)
The Houshold all went into mourning,
As if the Fabrick had been burning:
Silvia perceiving the Harts sores,
(The Elder Sister of these Whores)
Scrubs her elbows (claps her hands
As all Scolds do) and then commands,
The Servants, Plough-men, and the hinds,
Them with the Neighbours all she joyns;
They suddainly (for yet Alecto,
Was to Ascanius a select foe)
Flock'd altogether in a flat,
With Oaken Planck, and burning bat;
They ran to Tyrrhus like mad folk,
As he was cleaving sturdy oak;
Nor dreaming that that Hellish Quean,
Was the contriver of this Scæne,
Who took her wings like fury able,
And pitch'd on the top of the Stable;
Where blowing her inchanted horn,
She rais'd the Country all by morn;
No Hurry-Cane did ere shake trees,
Nor Rocks, nor Mountains like the breeze:
No Sulphur storms e're made such pudders,
Nurses hid Children 'twixt their Udders:
All the Country up in Armes
Rose, at these new, and hot Allarms;
The Trojan Blades too, came to free
Young Master from this jeopardie;
The surry Club-men they did swarm,
(A scurvy sign 'twas of a storm:)
With bats they came with rakes & thresholds,
With sharp stakes, others came in fresh shrales,
Others with rusty swords, and edge-tooles,
Others with beetles, call'd wedg-tooles,
Others with coul-staffs, crab-tree cudgels,
(Give 'um their armes they'l not budge els)
Others with quarter-staff, and prong,
With harvest-hookes, and sithes ding dong;
All came from neer and eke from far,
“(A shrewd signe of a Civil Warr;)
So stood their Several Armes in field,
(As upsight stuble) by the Shield;
As when a storm doth by degrees,
Begin to tumble frothy seas:
At last up to the Clouds they must,
Blown thither by perpetual Gust;
So Silvia in the van shot Almon,
“(His flesh did slit as red as Salmon;)
His throat was cut, he fell a sinking,
“(Believ't I think it spoyl'd his drinking;)
Good man Galesius, with many more,
Came to part this Rogue and Whore;
He'd flea a flint, a meer clunch fist,
Yet a very good Latinist:
Full of revenge as any man,
He was a right Italian.
Five herds of Cattel (beside Pork) cleer
He had; as large as those of York-sheer;
Five flocks of Sheep he had still at's fold,
Shew me the like again in cots-would:
He always kept a hundred Ploughs,
“Whereon I think was one of the 'noughs;
VVhilst blood for blood they did bespatter,
Alecto came, a mischief take her;
She saw she had no need to heart 'um,
Fight on saith she, the devil part 'um.
Thus leaving Italy in dispair,
(Like a great Princess of the ayr)
To Iuno comes, and in vain glory,
As followeth, telleth this bad story;

Thy business Juno now is dun,
For now at clubs they have begun;
Go bid um now stick, and not bodge on,
To be reveng'd on every Trojan;
But if thou list, if this won't do 't,
I'le fire Towns, and all to boot;
I'le make them up and down to rove,
As if the Devil had them drove:
But Iuno cry'd, (enough get hence)
“Of any womans conscience;
Now all have equal cause to scuffle,
Methinks I see um how they ruffle:
Thus Il'e marry you good Sir,
Thou Son of Mother Ginniver;
As you like this, feast and sauce,
Come another wild-goose chace,
Old Latin too, thy steps shall trace;
And now get gon, thou art I say,
No more to be a bird of prey;
If any thing be left undone,
I'le finish 't as thou hast begun;
She having freely spoke these things,
Alecto takes her speckled wings
And into Hell her self she flings.

This Country hath a hollow place,
As dark you cannot see your face;
A dingy hole 'tis, and a dismal,
Inviron'd round with woods is this vale;
From Rocks of this dark Dungeon,
Tumbles a nasty stinking Pond;
This Gulph on each side hath a Jaw,
Like that that gap'd in Caveda;
From hence (the Poets being full sure)
Broke ugly smells, and stinking sulphure:
Thither Alecto that old Quean
Went, when she had tir'd both gods & men,

And Juno now begins her prank,
She having got them on the hank;
Numbers of Shepheards crouded down,
To march unto King Latins Town;
They brought young Almon and Galessins,
“This a young lad, that successions;
They tri'd first what their gods would do,
And then the King complain'd unto;
Amidst of this great rustick band
Stood Turnus, having chief Command:
I'le kill and fire thee, O King Latin,
Wert thou a man made up of Satin;
If thou dost like a Scoundrel base,
Marry thy child to a strange face;
Or offer (like an old new fangler,)
To turn out Turnus for a wrangler.

By this the women Bacchanalian,
Came romping down with many a Stallian;
Amata like a mad old spright,
Gives 'um all courage for to fight;
“She'l kill all Trojans, (but 'tis ods Dame)
“If you go headlong not a gods name;
Men come as if a whirl-wind sent 'um,
To Latin's town eclip'd Laurentium;
He like a Rock (a good old Burges,)
Is fixt against all Armes and Surges;
Their oratory mov'd his mood,
No more then Rock is by a Flood.
When nothing of their speech advanc'd him,
And finding Iuno still against him;
He curs'd his gods instead of prayer,
“(And tost his cap, up in the ayr.)
He cryes, what now ye sons of Whores,
Are ye come to break my doors?
Yee'l be the first, yet cursed brood,
That will pay sauce for this lost blood;
Ye damned Rogues, witched Turnus,
Thou that wouldst to ashes burn us;
Thou that wouldst my child purloyn,
Shalt be paid in thine own coyn;
But I'me at rest and safely harbour'd,
(Cheated of Burial, a Star-board:
He sed no more, but in his Cub,
He lock'd himself like an old chub,
No more hee'd rule this rude hub-bub.

There was a use in Latinum,
When they would brace up war-like drū
The custome was retain'd at Rome.
Before the Army over passes
To fight for Moors and Northern Lasses;
To India go amongst the Swarthy,
Or to fetch Honour from the Parthy;
Two Martial Gates they open rouse,
“Then Romans kept an open house;
The house the Romans built for Mars,
The Gates had many hundred Bars;
Janus stood Sentinal (That Beagle)
Just at the door like a Spread-Eagle;
To these Gates (when decreed by Senate)
To fight (for offers, ther's no why not,)
The Consul came in Martial Vest,
(Then ye might swear 'twas not in jest;)
Proclaim'd the War in open manner,
And every Youth brought forth his Banner,
And Musique loud before was born,
As loud as a Sow-Gelders horn.

In this wise, Latin was inforc'd,
To get the Trojans unhors'd;
But to those Gates hee'd not advance,
(Let every Souldier take his Chance)
But crept to corners from the Duty,
For fighting he car'd not a shoety.

Dame Juno seeing this delay,
Open'd the Gates as clear as day;
The Brazen Posts, and Brazed Hinges
Made a great noyse, she gave such twinges;
Thus all the rout (a goodly messe)
Come to disturb the old Kings Peace;
Some a Horse-back, some a Foot,
Some trail'd Pikes, and some did Shoot;
They scour'd their Armes, (first they did chew it)
With Whet-stone, and with lard, and Suit;
They hear their Trumpet, and their Hoboys,
With flying Colours, so Boys, so Boys;
Five Cities now ('twas for their sins)
Appointed were for Magazins;
Tyber, Atyn, (you may trust um)
Arde, Antum large, and Crustum;
And now to work go all the Cutlers,
Fly brass and steel for swords and bucklers;
The sith and plough they all do have,
And unto sword and gantlet cleave;
This in beaten Harness girt is,
“Dulce Bellum in Expertis;
Another gets his Horse and Shield
To Fight I think the men be wild.

Now wil I writ (my muse being rap'd in's
Old Vain and Style) what Kings & Captains
Came to disturb our friend Æneas,
“(He were as good begone to Sea as
“Lye here and live upon white Herring,
“To find a time to be pickering)
Myzentius from Tyrhenus Coast,
That Athiest brought a mighty Host;
Then Lansus came, Myzentius Son,
Out-stripping all but Turnus one;
This Lansus, Horses tam'd and Mares,
He rode on Tygers, Bulls and Bears;
“He'd bring 'um all in little space,
“Unto a very easie pace;
He brought from Town of Agelline
A thousand foot ('twas well a fine;)
A pretty fellow as e're twang'd,
Had his Father been but hang'd.
Triumphantly in the next place,
Came Aventine of Hercules Race;
His Horses drew at length in Charrets,
“(As haul'd are hither Hackney Carrets;)
“His Armes a hundred stinging boches,
Painted on Shields, as ours on Coaches;
Draggons, and Serpents part per pale,
And Hydras's girt with Snakes and all;
Where Rhea that she Conventicler,
Was for the gods a mighty stickler;
To Aventims Mount she'd limpe,
To meet the gods who got this Impe;
'Twas after Hercules had done
In Spain, and conquer'd Syrion;
And like a carefull Grazier saw,
His Oxen in Italia;
The Pikes they bring in hand are parlous,
The Halberts too they leave are marvelous;
Their Spears of May-Pole length admits,
At least as long as any Spits:
He were a Lyon's Kid, (dear Sir)
“(What do the make a yauning here for?)
They shewd their teeth cause they were white
Their hair was shaggy, colour'd light;
A fearfull shew 'twas (as I've read)
“(But yet the Lyons were quite dead;
Thus to the Court in State and Pride,
With this and Fathers Vest he hyed;
“So Gentlemen of one, or no head,
“That never yet did see a Foe dead;
“Unless they get a Lyon Rampant,
“They curse the Heraulds, and will stamp on't;
“But if his beast be tooth and nail,
“He's plaister'd streight at Coaches Tail.

Two brethren from Tiburtus walls,
Came to wrestle a few falls;
Corus, Catellus, sprung from Greeks,
Each comes ith' van, and honour seeks
Like misgot Centenus from the wood hill,
They vapour'd highly with a good will;
They broke their bow-strings & their bows
Before they cop with any foes;
“As some will when the Field is pitch'd
“Run, 'cause their Arms are not neer fix'd.

There wanteth yet the Son of Vulcan,
'Tis Ceculus a great Bubulcan;
Legions of Herdsmen in earnest he,
Brought with the Townsmen of Præneste;
Dame Iuno's Land he swept all clean a,
And all the Banks of Aniena.
All that on Hernick Rocks did dwell,
And rich Anagnia marcht pell mell;
The Amusenian doth turn out,
To have a touch and play the Scout;
These men were armed (as you'l hear)
“Like some that came from Lanca-shier;
They neither sworded were nor mounted,
But march'd as they at home were wonted;
The greatest part with slings and plumet
Advanc'd, sure these men ment to hum it;
Woolf-skins did serve instead of Steel caps,
Which made some yt they did not feel claps;
Their stockings made were of skins raw
“But these I speak, of wisps of straw;
Thus were they armed every one,
A sorry shift's better then none;
Enter Messapus much the colder,
For he is no fresh-water souldier;
Being Neptunes Son, his back and bellie,
Are both sword-proof I can tell ye;
He call's his men unto this slaughter,
But they were like fish out o'th' water;
From Fescern's hills, and from Faliscus,
More people come and mean to whisk us;
From Socust that with tall Towers out-strips,
Whose Fields are spread with yellow Cow-slips;
They came from high mount Cimeus lake,
Where Capen hath a neighbour brake;
They came in droves, and fil'd the ways,
And crowded in their Masters praise;
As Swans returning from the Floods,
Mount high to sing Songs to the Gods;
With out-stretch'd necks they fly before us,
And mix in a melodious Chorus;
The skies they beat & make them fear um,
It does the Rivers good to hear um,
And Asia although not a near um.
They knew not what these train-bands meant
They look'd like Fowle from Neptune sent;
Coming a shore with all their tackling,
They kept a mighty noise and cackling;
Clausus the Sabine came a shore,
With a vast crew, about a score;
From whom descended in a Line,
One Claudia a Feminine,
Since Rome to Sabins did incline.

Strong Cohorts came from Amiterna,
Not from Chios nor from Smyrna;
Mutusca too (there grow good Capers)
Sent out Band with Swords and Rapers;
Nomentum Town, and Quelins Dorps,
Sent out many a valiant Corps;
Severus Hills, yea, I can shew some,
That were as safe, as louse in bosome;
In Tetron Craggy Clifts and Rocks,
Yet they came in too all in flocks;
Hiniellus River; Floruli
“Came at a call, Sir, by and by;
All that drink of River Faberis,
Are gone along where Fife and Tabor is;
And those that drink of Tibers flood,
Are all march'd in a fighting mood;
Yet of Casperia I am mute,
Who sent a very great recruit;
Latium sent Pesants called Yeomen,
Then came a shore a gang of Seamen;
And from that cursed stream Alixa,
Came Souldiers fierce as fire from Styx-a;
As Winter storms in marble Sea's,
When winds arise will have their veaze;
Or like a field of Corn thick grown,
Is parch'd and scalded by the Sun;
The Hermi Liceans come in train,
And make the Earth resound again;
So Souldiers came with Suttling Whore,
From every Coast, from every Shore;
Their Armes did clash, their Spears did shake,
So that they made a Ghost to quake.

Then Agamemno's Girle (not Boy)
Awakes, being enemy to Troy;
Halesins brought a thousand Deers
In Gallia called Cavelieres;
But in plain English Pioneers.
Miniers of Messica's Mountain,
All that liv'd by Sea or Fountain;
Aurunca's Blades, and Caleis out-laws,
Came thither all I think without maws
To fight: then came Viturus people,
Who in their little brook do tipple:
Ossu and Staticula sent such,
“You could not with long tongs them touch;
They were so Collerick and testy;
“But when they came to fight, were resty;
Their weapon is a sower tough trunchon,
At one end it hath a great bunch on,
It hangs like flayle narrow leathers,
Can weild them well, not fight all weathers;
Their Targets in their left hands hide,
(When they would fight) a whole broad side;
Nor shall my pen miss to reveal, on
Of Ebulus the Son of Telon;
Begat on Sebathis his Whore,
When he at Capreas went before;
But this unlucky Bastard, not
Content with that which was his lot;
Sorastes Tenants he'l not lets pass,
But enters and commits great trespass;
He likewise stole (he did not warn us,
And drove the Fields by the Brook Sarnus;
The Farmes of Batulus and Rufas,
And Bella's vale wher's yearly new grass;
They fight with Launce like German Rutter,
“Iames Hind was never such a cutter;
They fling a mussy shining fork,
Their sculs are cap'd with thick tough cork;
Their glittering Bucklers dazle eyes,
So do their Semitars likewise;
And thee Sir Ufens, valiant Knight,
Did Nursa send abroad to fight;
Whose hardy hunts-men with their spears,
Were true woods-men being Mountaneers;
Their ground in Armes they occupy,
And rob from those that live next by;
Their booty long before they set,
“All's fish with them that comes to net.
From Marub came a Prophet tall,
A Priest full gay and finical;
His head quite round with Olive bow,
“Was hung as ours with Feathers now:
Archippus Knight of Umberland,
Sent this Priest by her sole Command;
He'd Snakes and Adders sing asleep,
And from their stings he'd people keep;
He'd give them Sallets if they hiss'd,
He was a knowing Herbalist:
But yet as learned though as he was,
He could not cure our friend Æneas;
In vain were all his Herbs and Charms,
To cure his wounds, and seche his harms;
For him the woods sigh'd into shivers,
And Fountains wept themselves to Rivers,
Agnitia's fenns cry'd all, alack,
This was when woods and Fountains spake;
Hipolite and Aricia's Boy,
Went too, against the Men of Troy;
Sir Virlins was his Christen Name,
From Chaces and from Desarts came;
He was chief Ranger to Diana,
And stole Bucks in Egeria's Laun-a:
For when Hipolitus, by Step-Dame,
Was kil'd fors Father, (twas a great shame)
Though drawn in pieces by wild Steeds,
Is now reviv'd by Phæbus weeds,
At his Diana's hests and wheeds;
Now Jove perceiving Esculape,
With Poultesses, and such slip slap,
Had rais'd a man from deaths black brim low,
He streight-way thunder'd him to Limbo;
Diana then, (as I may term it)
Made him retire, and to turn Hermit;
So he came to Egeria Nymph,
And liv'd in wood hard by a Qymph;
He cares not what the people tattle,
But lives for all their tittle tattle;
“So Virbins hath the Proverb spoyl'd,
“Once a Man, and twice a Child;
“For Virbins (as I prove it can)
“Was once a Child, and twice a Man;
Since which rare chance, it is decreed,
That no Horse, Mare, or other Steed,
Shall come a near Diana's Stable,
Or in her Woods keep any Table;
Yet these Wild-Horses were agast,
Seeing Sea-Monsters come at last;
Where they such tricks, and reaks began,
Were like to throw him Horse and Man:
Yet he like Noble Son of Mars,
Riding his Horse, sat on his A***;
His two wheel'd Coach he drove amain,
And made the streets spit fire again.

But Turnus now (then him none finer)
Appear'd as tall as Captain Ioyner;
He wore three hatts, having 'tis said,
Worms or Chimara's in his head,
Which kindled in him such a fire,
That they had almost burn'd the Squire;
The more they fret, the more he's mad,
And in the field makes work full sad:
But Io on his Target now,
As quiet stands as a milch Cow;
Her hair was smooth, and bright as gold,
A tale unhear'd of to be told.
“Sure she the Princess thought would hate him,
“So like a slut makes horns at him;
“And Argos with his hundred eyes,
Were fain to be this Wenches spies;
“As if Maids when they would go to't,
“In spight of eyes, and teeth can't do't;
Where Inachus like lazie micher,
Drills water out from Earthen pitcher;
A body great did after thrust,
And coming, made a mighty dust;
Their shields and bucklers made huge noise,
They were a knot of Argin Boyes;
The Greekish Youth, the Rutill hands,
Arunca's aid, Sicana's bands;
Saturna's crews, and Libicus,
With painted Bucklers came to us;
Tyberians, and Rutills Hog-grubbers,
And Husband-Men, Stiff-necked Lubbers;
All those that live by Sirces Matron,
All Anxurs folks, Iove is their Patron;
Faronia blith, with green-wood by her,
“Thought she had friends, but had none nigh her;
All that liv'd by Ufens Brook,
Resorted hither from each nook;
Beside from Volsca did appear
Camilla stout, (for I did see her)
She march'd like Amazonian bold,
Of Horse and Foot, the last I told;
She scorn'd the weavers tooles, and distaff,
Of Womens Nature, she hath mist half;
Of man she was the true Imago,
In feates of War, a great Virago;
She'd tread the Air, needed no succour,
And hover in't like a Wind---
Over Corn Fields she'd seem to fly,
Over rough Seas, and waters high;
Fly o're Mountains (none could mate her)
“The Devil sure could ne're have sate her;
The people flock'd to see her ride,
A wondrous sight, ('twas but a stride!)
She's not the last hath don't at chase,
“I've known one ride so a Horse-Race:
But now this Valiant Amazon,
With a Rich Vest her back upon;
Her locks with Ribbands, Hatt she weares
As men are now close by the eares;
Well arm'd with Bow, and deadly Lance
“The like was once at Orleance.