Canidia, or the Witches :: :: University of Virginia Library

I Canidia, Great General,
And Governess of Witches-Hall,
Command You in mine Own and Pluto's Names,
To Play with Me all Deadly Games.
Let us be counted Cruel Dames,
Though to Our Everlasting Shames.

CANTO I.

Come gallant Sisters, come along,
Let's meet the Devil Ten thousand strong,
Upon the Whales and Dolphins backs,
Let's try to choak the Sea with Wrecks;
Split Ships on Rocks in the dark Nights,
Spring Leaks, and sink them down to rights.
And then wee'l scud away to Shoar,
And try what Tricks we can play more.

Blow Houses down, ye Jolly Dames,
Or burn them up in fiery Flames;
Lets rowze up Mortals from their sleep,
And send them packing to the Deep.
Let's strike them dead with Thunder-Stones,
With Lightning scorch to Skin and Bones;
For Winds and Storms by Sea or Land,
You may dispose, you may command.

Sometimes in dismal Caves we lie,
Or in the Air aloft we flie;
Sometimes we caper o're the Main,
Thunders and Lightnings we disdain;
Sometimes we tumble Churches down;
And level Castles with the ground;
We fire whole Cities, and destroy
Whole Armies, if they us annoy.

We strangle Infants in the Womb,
And raise the Dead out of their Tomb;
We haunt the Palaces of Kings,
And play such prancks and pretty things:
And this is all our chief delight,
To do all mischief in despight,
And when w'have done, to shift away
Untoucht, unseen by night or day.

When Imps do suck our postern Teats,
We make them act unlucky Feats,
In Puppets, Wax, sharp Needles-points
We stick, to torture Limbs and Joynts;
With Frogs and Toads, most poys'nous gore,
Our grizly Limbs we 'noint all ore,
And strait away, away we go,
Sparing no Mortal, friend nor foe.

We'l sell you Winds, and every Charm,
Or venemous Drug that may do harm;
For Beasts or Fowls we have our Spells,
Laid up in store in our dark Cells:
For there the Devils use to meet,
And dance with Horns and Cloven-feet;
And when w'have done we frisk about,
And through the World play Revel-Rout.

In Charnel-houses we do crawl,
Ratling the Bones of great and small;
We hurl Wild-fire-Balls or'e mens heads,
And slily creep into their Beds;
We knock men down, and hurl huge Stones,
And Clubs and Bats to break their Bones;
We play Bo-peep, and put out Lights,
Groan, howl and scare Folk with strange sights.

We ride on Cows and Horses Rumps,
O're Lakes and Rivers fetch large Jumps;
We grasp the Moon, and scale the Sun,
And stop the Planets as they run:
We kindle Comets, dazeling flames,
And whistle for the Winds by names;
And for our Pastimes and mad Freaks,
'Mong Stars we play at Barly-breaks.

We are Ambassadors of State,
And know the Mysteries of Fate;
In Pluto's Bosom, there we ly,
To learn each Mortals Destiny,
As Oracles their Fortunes shew,
If they be born to Wealth or Wo.
The Spinning Sisters hands we guide,
And in all this we take a pride.

To Lapland, Finland we do Skice,
Sliding on Seas and Rocks of Ice;
T'old Beldams there, our Sisters kind,
We do impart our Hellish mind;
We take their Seals and Hands in Blood,
For ever to renounce all Good:
And then as they in Dens do lurk,
We set the ugly Jades a-work.

We know the Treasures and the Stores,
Lock'd up in Caves with Brazen-doors;
Gold and Silver sparkling Stones
We pile on heaps, like Dead mens Bones;
There the Devils brood and hover,
Keep Guards that none should them discover;
But upon all the Coasts of Hell,
'Tis we, 'tis we stand Centinel.

CANTO II.

Agrippa, Merlin, Faustus, Asses
And Dunces to us Stygian Lasses.
The Oracle was but a Fool,
That breath'd from Delphos Threefoot-Stool,
Apollo, one of his high Rank,
A Fidler, Quack, a Mountebank.
'Tis we can Conjuring-circles make,
Such as shall cause the World to quake.

We creep into the Center-Hole,
Thence to the North and Southern-Pole;
We clamber Pyramids, and stride
Colossusses, and Atlas ride:
Strombalo and Mongibel,
The Representatives of Hell;
They vomit Brimstone, Flames and Smoak,
Which never us as yet could choak.

Lords, Princes, Emperours and Kings,
Poor inconsiderable Things;
For Wealth, and Mirth, and Pow'r, none dare
With our Society compare:
The Indies both with all their gain,
Make but one pitiful Beggar Spain,
Poor Egypt, Chalde, Rome and Greece,
'Tis we that have the Golden-Fleece.

The Philosophic-Stone we claim,
'Tis Ours to all the Chymists shame;
We taught Copernicus, who found
The Sun stands still the Earth turns round:
Archytas Dove by Us was sped,
And Friar Bacons Brazen-Head;
Old Mother Shipton was our Dam,
With all the Spawn of Amsterdam.

The Raving Priest, the Vestal Nun,
Augurs, Magi, are all outdone;
Sybils and Medea's Whores,
Not worthy to keep our Doors:
Each Colchos or Thessalian Fuss,
Pedlars that truckle under us;
You may hear them make their Brags,
But w' are the Virtuoso Hags.

Gibbets, Gallowses and Wheels,
Halters, Fetters, Whips and Steels;
Axes, Bolts, Saws and poys'ned Darts,
Racks, Hooks and Pincers are our Arts:
We cram a Brood of Vulturs, Cravens,
Owls, Bats, Scrietch-Owls and Night-Ravens;
Cerberus, that ugly Dog,
Shall watch all these with Chain and Clog.

Satyrs and Mermaids are our Broods,
Hobgoblins, Fairies, Robinhoods:
All these do make a Jolly Crew,
And so we give the Devil his due;
Because he helps us at this rate,
To be reveng'd on all we hate;
And if Revenge will ever please,
Mortals shall never take their ease:

Incubus and Succubus
Are Secrets only known to us;
Changlings, Idiots and Fools,
Are bred and practic'd in our Schools:
Th' Entoxicating Cup of Love,
And the Abortive Drink, we prove;
The Night-Mares and the Foolish-Fire,
Which silly Mortals so admire.

We treat Mad-Bedlams, Toms and Besses,
With Ceremonies and Caresses;
The roaring Crew of Ranting Ghosts
Flock in vast Troops unto our Coasts:
We entertain them as our Friends,
Nor shall they want their hopeful ends;
For upon Pluto's stately Bench
Are Lords for every dainty Wench.

Medusa's, Gorgon's Snaky Tresses,
Use to be our finer Dresses;
We look like Owls, and Bears, and Cats,
We creep about like Mice and Rats:
Jackanapes and Monky-Faces
Become us, as our chiefest Graces;
And in our Antick Dances spring
In Masques, fit Pastime for a King.

Pegasus is our Hackny-Jade,
Centaurs are Hobbies for our Trade,
As far as Cham or Great Mogul,
Ridden by every Petty Trull.
In Gypsies Companies we go,
Tell Fortunes, and steal Children too;
For every Fiend or Empuse sake,
What is't we dare not undertake?

Pedlars Sluts and Tinkers Trulls,
Hectors, Bully-rocks and Gulls;
Whores, Bawds and Pimps, and all the Tribe
Of Cheats and Cutpurses, we bribe;
We trade with Usurers and Misers,
Sophisters and poor Sub-Sizers;
Brokers, Bankrupts for a Shift;
We help them still at a Dead-lift:
And was there e're so brave a Gang,
In all this World, more fit to hang?

CANTO III.

If any lack to know his Fate
For a Wife, or an Estate;
For a Voyage, Live or Dy,
To Fall, or Conquer Enemy:
If it be to get a Crown,
We can lift up or pull down;
To shift an Heir out of the way,
To make a younger Brother play.

To slink a Boy, that dares to enter,
To stop a gap by a second Venter;
Hang him, Damn him, let him go.
If any lack a Miss, or so,
Or if a Chamber-Maid, forsooth,
Be crackt by any dainty Tooth,
Send her to us; for it is said,
We can make her a perfect Maid.

If Nineteen weds a Beldam-Mate
Of Ninety, and longs for a rich young Bait,
We'l fit him with a Girl in Teens,
We know how, and what he means;

The Feat is done, all in a trice,
Two great Estates, and married twice.
It is enough, yet let him range,
Tell us when h'as a mind to change.

We deal not only with bare Fools,
But Knaves and learn'd in Courts and Schools:
We trade in Camps, in Merchants Wares,
In Shops, Farms and Plow-Shares.
To us nothing can come amiss,
To our Net all that comes is Fish:
Right or wrong no matter what,
We can shew you a trick for that.

If ye lack one of the Rump,
Of the long Robe or the short Jump;
From the Confessing Chair or Stool,
From the Quaking Knave or Fool,
In the Parlour or Conclave,
A Committe or Junto Slave,
We'l warrant you their help or favour,
We bind all th' World to their good Behaviour.

Monks and Friars, and the Train
Of Lords Inquisitors of Spain;
Nuns, Priests or Anchorites we probe,
And Gentlemen of the Long-Robe:
Juglers, Dancers on the Ropes,
Abbots, Cardinals and Popes;
Physicians and every Bard,
That helps to make a fat Church-yard.

Come along my Hearts, what is't you lack?
From the Pedlar and his Pack,

To the great Dons we drive a Trade,
Joyn with us, and be for ever made.
If you procure us on your side,
We'l do your Business every Tide;
We ply hard for a Fare up or down,
In City or in Country Town.

If you lack a Dainty-Sister,
She's yours, be sure, we never mist her.
If cut a Knot, or split a Hair;
We'l be your Counsel, never fear:
Or do you lack Knights of the Post,
To stab a Cause, spare for no Cost;
Suborn a Witness, greaze a Fist,
And you shall have what you lift.

Canst thou hit a lofty Strain,
Strike dead sure on a Royal Vein?
Canst thou kiss, and laugh and grin,
To see the last Heart-blood spin?
Mock at groans and dying Faces,
Entertain them with Embraces;
Sing aloud Triumphant Notes,
While thou art a cutting Throats.

Dance on the Carkasses of Kings,
Those inconsiderable Things;
Dash out the Brains of Noble Wights,
Poyson or Pistol all to rights:
Then come to us, and thou shalt find
All our Corporation kind:
Revenge thy Foes, advance thy Story,
Get the everlasting Glory.

Can you look out sharp with a Grace,
Or put on a brazen-Face?
Sugar your Tongue, or oyl your Knee,
Stand bent, or creep to Flattery:
Nay, can you Smile and Kill together,
Hold out all brunts of Wind and Weather;
You and your Rogues may choose your Fates,
Be hang'd or damn'd at any Rates.

Can you be prostitute, or stand
To every base and foul Command,
Without reflecting, without thinking,
Like Devils without shrinking?
Then you are for our turn, Com on;
D'you make Faces? Dogs, be gon.
They are not fit for us at all
That scruple coming at first Call.

O Flattery, thou prevailing Art!
'Mong Witches thou dost act thy part:
O're the Grandees thou dost prevail,
Base fawning Consul, dost thou wag thy Tail?
They crush and advance each other,
A Rogue may his fellow-Rogue discover;
But undermine all you can,
The Knave with the honest man.

O Revenge, thou pleasing Bait,
Work it on all you love or hate;
Fail not be sure to cringe or smile,
Dissemble deeply all the while:
Tongue, Heart and Hand keep far asunder,
When they meet 'twill be a wonder.
Regard not others Weal nor Wo,
Love Self, your own mind let none know.

Stand low in the Dark to all, but view
A lost all in the Light to you.
Manfully bring about your ends,
Without regard to Foes or Friends.
A Witches craft is to out-wit
Any thing that's just and fit,
And gallantly to throw all by
That in your way as Blocks shall lie.

Blaspheme the Stars, and curse the Fates,
Which thwart your publick or private States.
Cross them again, for you can do it;
I say, be valiant and stand to it.
Influences or contingent Chances,
Are but Fortunes, Jigs and Dances:
A Noble Spirit is the same still,
Right or wrong she has her Will.

We were not born, to be tost
Like Slaves in Blankets, but to rule the rost;
Come what will, whole or broken Pates,
Look to your Hilts at any rates.
The silly Imps are always mumpt,
But wise Witches are never crumpt;
He is an Ass that will be pumpt.
What over-reach'd, cavil'd, outwitted?
Such a Gull deserves to be Spitted.

Beg him, Beg him for a Fool,
And send him to the Ducking-Stool.
Sowce him, Salt him, flea him, roast him,
Cane him, kick him, box him, post him.
He that is a Cock o'th' Game,
Never yields to any shame;
A Rogue he will be by yea or nay,
A Traytor to his dying Day.

This it is to be a Witch,
When a man's Fingers itch,
To do all baseness, and outface
The Devil, to his disgrace.
Of this I'le not bate you an Ace;
Trump about, Cog a Dye,
Spare not to tell, or act any Lye,
Out-face the face of Villany.

Ne're be danted, stop your ears
At the cries of Cares or Fears,
Sighs and Tears; poor silly things,
Fit to move Nobles, Princes, Kings.
Be above all, scorn to be true
Or just, to give any Man his due.
Pay Debts, give to Poor, what's worse?
My Son, keep mony in thy Purse.

Civility, a pretty thing, good Nature,
'Tis a Monster, hunt her, bait her,
Pull her down, with a full Cry
Of Hell-hounds, make her dye:
She combers the World, post her to Hell,
'Mongst Men she is not fit to dwell.

Get all, take all, save all, part
With nothing, let ev'ry Penny go t'your heart:
These are our Principles, think no evil,
Rake Hell and scum the Devil.
Let the World sink or swim about ye,
So you be safe, nothing doubt ye;
Be not concern'd for any Elf,
So it be well with your own Self.

They talk of Consciences, 'tis a Flea bite,
'Tis Conscience to bid all Honesty good night.
These are the Dictates and the Rules,
Which all will follow, but stark Fools.

I say then come, and we will teach you
To climb so high, as none shall reach you;
Be, and do any thing, laugh or cry,
Swear and forswear, all's Destiny:
Lye, Steal, Murder at any rate,
Torment Mortals in spight of Fate;
The more you do, the more you may,
And never fear a Judgment Day.

CANTO IV.

Then have at all; Oh, we would burn
The Universe, and overturn
The frame of Nature, and look on
And laugh at such Confusion!
A Chaos would be a fine sight,
Of all things buried in dark Night
And after all, 'twere rarely well
If we could turn all into Hell.

'Mongst Cannibals and Savage Beasts,
And Monsters we do make our Nests;
W'are conversant in Holes and Caves,
In Sepulchres and Dead mens Graves;
In Hills and Dales, and Desert Woods,
In Gulfs and Quick-Sands, Springs and Floods;
We muster all the dreadful Devils,
As Mistresses of all the Revels.

To burn the Thatch, or a poor Lamb,
Torture the Devil and his Dam;
When Women scratch or burn our Hair,
W'are in a fit of great despair:
When they cut off Cats Legs or Heads,
It makes us forthwith take our Beds;
But most of all, when w'hear the Hiss
Of Pipkins stopt with Pins or Piss.

We whisper in a Camels Ear,
Or nod unto a rugged Bear;
And they shall carry us out or in,
O're all the World, through thick and thin:
But throw an Old-shoe with a Spell,
Or nail a Horse-shoe cross the Cell,
'Twill drive away Devil or Man,
And let them hurt you if they can.

St. Dunstan's Tongs, under the Rose,
Took the Devil by the Nose;
Th' enchanted Chair, and Holy-Wand,
Cap, Cowl and Pall do him command:
The Holy-Water, Ring or Smoak,
Drive him quite away, or Choak
The Circle Character'd round,
Raises or sinks him under-ground.

We sit in the Great Cham's Lap,
And feed his Brungeons with Pap;
The Mogul and Crim-Tartar is our Friend,
And we to them are no less kind.
The Roman State had not so thriv'd,
If we their Policies had not contriv'd;
From Monotape to Tapobran,
We strive to advance every Man.

Semyramis, Sesostris, Cyrus,
All the Magi did admire us:
Turky, Russia, Lituania,
Moscovy, Prusia, Transylvania:
What so remote or Barbarous Nation,
When we have not fix'd our Station;
Planted our Oracles of Fame,
For their Wise men to get a Name?

China had Guns and Sulphur Dust,
Printing and curious Arts in trust
By us; nor do they their Faith betray,
To teach their Neighbours to this day.
Others have stumbl'd on them by chance;
But we first of all led the Dance.
Never no glorious Enterprize,
But from us it took its Rise.

Columbus the New World first found,
Vespucius conquered the Ground;
But we were Aborigino's there,
As we are almost every where.
We rockt and knockt Old Time in's Cradle,
Which makes his Brains ever since Adle;
Yet he eats Children still,
And wields his Sythe admirably well.

Manetho, Sanchuniathon,
Joyn'd with us in Consultation.
Zoroastres, Orpheus, Plato,
Aristotle, Theophrastus, Cato,
Proclus, Mercurius, Trismegistus,
At our Councils never mist us:
Porphyry, Psellus waited there,
Jamblichus too had his Chair.

Socrates Dæmon, infinite more
Attendants on the same score.
Ægyptian, Chaldee, Assyrian Rites,
Are our Mysterious Delights.
Memphis, Thebes, Athens, Rome,
We take to be our constant Home.
All the abstruse and Sacred Arts,
Profest by Men of profound Parts,
The Sybils taught, I do declare,
And every Body knows what they were.

We bind the Spirits in the Red Sea
A Thousand years, and set them free.
Methinks I see the Rogues, till then,
(Damnation to the Sons of Men)
Vow, when they come abroad again,
Ten Thousand times more grief and pain:
But for all this Harly-bur,
Till we give leave they shall not stir.

They talk of Laws; the World shall know
We give, not take Laws from high or low.
We'l cramp the Judge, and Grand Inquest,
And stop the Verdict of the rest.
Jaylor, Hang-man we deny,
And all such Rogues we can defie;
We'l live and die at our own Pleasures,
There's none shall give us Rules or Measures.

Swimming, Biting, Scratching, Banging,
Keeps us from Drowning, not from Hanging.
Judges and Sheriffs fain would tame us;
Juries bring in all Ignoramus.
'Tis only the Rabble, Women and Boys,
That are afraid of their Pigs and Poultry Decoys.

The Country-man loses his Dairy and Cows,
Children, Horses, Waggons and Plows.

I'm angry, be reveng'd on all,
Though for Pluto's help they call;
We scorn his Aid, 'tis come to pass,
We'l quickly prove the Devil's an Ass.
W'have got the day, serve him no more,
Nor Proserpine, his dirty Whore;
And that we may b'alone in Evil,
Let's all resolve to kill the Devil.

CANTO V.

Oberon the Fairy King,
And Mab his Queen, that pretty thing;
Peppercorn, Sir Pigwiggin too,
Those Doughty Knights of the Old Shoe;
Pigmies low, and Giants Tall,
These must Answer to our Call,
And they do to us resort,
To Dance and Sing, and make us sport.

Polyphemus, Hogmagog,
Play before us at Leap-Frog;
Blind Homer, and the merry Greek,
At Hide and Seek will make us squeek.
Brontes and Steropes with brawny Arms,
Hammer Jove's Bolts and Mars his Arms;
Bacchus and Silenus Drunk,
With Vulcan and Venus his Punck.

Thief Mercury shall cut a Purse;
Crafty Ulysses shall do worse.

Helena, stoln by Paris bold,
Shall wrong dispose the Pome of Gold.
Ganymed, Cupid, parlous Boys
For Kissing, and all other Toys.
We have our Masques, and Mid-night Revels,
Till we be all as drunk as Devils.

Our Musick is harmonious Notes,
Crowding from our hoarser Throats:
Cats, Scriech Owls, Wolves, Dogs, Bulls and Bears,
In Consort please our skilful Ears:
Such dismal howling, yelling, crying,
Revives us, though we lay a dying.
All the Devils flock about us;
But they can do nothing without us.

Diogenes is in his Tub,
Hercules brandishes his Club;
Sardanapalus, step but in,
Amongst the Maids you'l see them Spin.
Bellisarios poor and blind,
Give him a Farthing, be so kind;
Remember Alexander too,
And bury him, having less to do.

Cæsar and Pompey may do well;
But you'l not hear them nam'd in Hell.
They had a Fame, but it is gone,
Ask the Ghosts, they hear of none.
They that frighted the World so wide,
In Coblars Stalls below do hide.
Overgrown Thieves and Murtherers high,
Buried now in Obscurity.

One Rare sight more, open your Eyes,
There's Domitian catching Flies.
See Bloody Nero, how he struts,
And kicks Poppæa on the Guts:
He Sings and Fiddles, at the sight
Of no less Flames than Romes, by Night;
Disguis'd in habit of a Swain,
Handsomly basted for his pain.

The Devil was in him; for they say,
He ript his Dam up, saw where he lay.
Sejanus was a Rogue, and Cateline,
Against their Country to combine.
Sylla and Marius did proscribe
The richest Gulls of every Tribe.
Brutus and Cassius stab'd a Commander,
As great as e're was Alexander.

Cleopatra's doting Fool
Mark Antony, send them to School,
With Lepidus; let Octavius whip'um,
For to the Throne he did out-skip'um.
Come Satyrs, swinge your Whips of Steel,
We'l help you slash, and make'um feel.
A Generation of Knaves,
For sending Innocents to their Graves.

Xerxes, how shamefully he crows
Over the Waves, and gives them blows
And Fetters too, to keep them in awe,
For breaking his Bridge, indeed Law.
A Famous Duke, with Pompous Train,
With a rich Ring Marries the Main.
From Brittish Shoars another swells,
And triumphs brave with Cockle-shells.

Cuckold Claudius, Messaline
Is every Varlets, more than thine.
Before thy Face married thy Slave,
And led the Bride-groom to his Grave.
Another thinks he did much braver,
In doing his Horse that mighty Favour,
To make him Consul, not to fear danger,
Gave him to boot a Golden Manger.

One feeds his Lampries, fresh and fresh,
With fattest gobs of slavish Flesh;
For a Glass broke, or Porridge spilt,
Runs his Dagger up to the Hilt.
He that shines in Diadems,
Drinks the Dust of Pearl and Gems,
In Crystal Cups; 'Tis costly Art,
For a Cordial next his Heart.

Heliogabalus, the Gormandizer,
Caracalla the Bloody Miser;
Dionysius, that Tyrant Devil,
Tiberius, Author of all Evil;
Romulus, Tarquin, Villains bold,
The Plague of Mortals, young and old:
Monsters of Men, the Shame of Crowns;
The Sword's an Enemy to Gowns.

One cuts Mount Athos in two pieces,
The Wiser gets the Golden Fleeces.
Don Quixots Red-Cross-Man in Steel,
Takes chanted Castles, makes Giants reel;
Relieves all poor distressed Ladies,
And I'le assure you does it Gratis.
George kill'd the Dragon, sav'd the Maid,
E're since Knights-Errant are decay'd.

O poor Tantalus, O poor Ixion,
O poor Prometheus, in hard Iron;
O poor Danaides, all the Fry
Of miserable Wretches, Come and try
What we can do, when all Helps fail,
If the Head can't save you, try the Tail.
Will you always lie a dying,
Like Fools, howling and crying?

We see the World all in a Glass,
What manner of Man Adam was.
All the mad Pranks that have been plaid,
Since the Foundation was laid;
We have Patterns fit for every Work,
From the Jew to the Great Turk.
Come then to us, for we can tell
Of all the Rogueries in Hell.

These and a Thousand more brave Sights,
Are represented for Delights.
Thus we battle in our Grease,
And Frolick in what Games we please.
We have our merry Bouts, our Jovial Bowzings,
Our Junckets and our large Carowzings;
Pampring our Genius, while we may,
With Nectar and Ambrosia.
We Devils Birds thus stufft and cram'd,
Our End is to be hang'd and damn'd.

CANTO VI.

Lack you a Thousand Pound Wench,
To lift you to the Coram-Bench;
Court her Ghostly Father, she's Demure,
And you have her Cock-sure.
Lack you to drive a subtle Trade,
Mount, ride your Horse to a Jade;
To Conventickling now or never,
And you are made a Man for ever.

Would you climb to high Degree,
Fee a Thaïs lustily;
Greaze her Servants, build her Bowers,
And all Corinth shall be yours.
Catamits or Bardash Toys,
Dainty content of Girls or Boys:
The Stews of Venice is the same
With the Long-Gallery of Amsterdam.

Lack you Glass Eyes, or Painted-Faces,
Bumbasts, Iron-Stays, or Laces;
Fair Sets of Teeth, Bridges or Noses,
Palats or Plump Breasts, soft as Roses;
Silver Hands, or Wooden Stumps,
For Arms or Legs, or larger Rumps;
Or any other Secret Ware,
We can fit you to a Hair.

A Chair-Man, or a Sequestrator,
Committee-Man, or Agitator;
The Naked Wight, or Tub-Divider,
The Stool, the Bench, or Stage-Bestrider.

These are brave Fellows, the rest are Fools,
That plod and puzzle in the Schools.
We'l shew you a nearer way to rise
To honour, than by Sacrifice.

Cromwel, Bradshaw, Peters, Pride,
Cook, Axtel, Okey, Ironside;
Chastel, Clement, Revilliac,
Fitz-harris, Pick'ring; do you lack
Furies, the strangling Dwarfs or Mutes,
Assasin-Banditi-Brutes,
We can furnish you, live or dead,
To do your business at Board or Bed.

The Plaugues of Europe, Goths and Vandals,
Huns, Heruli, those Northern Scandals;
Loiola's, d' Alva's, Romanenses,
(Hugonots and Albigenses,
John Hus, Jerom of Prague,
Innocents by them betray'd,)
Zisca shall bang them with his Bum,
When his Skin shall be made a Drum.

Popish, Presbyterian Trade,
Traytors all in Masquerade;
Plots and Sham-Plots, Whigs and Tories,
That trouble us with sad Stories;
Grebner, Lilly, Nostre-dames,
Whiggish Packt Juries, Ignoramus:
Let the cause be what it will,
It shall be Billa Vera still.

Twelve Godfathers, Good Men and True, can
Create a Knave, or an Honest man;

Guilty, or Not guilty make,
For Fear, or Love, or Hatred's sake.
Any thing to end or promote Strife,
Bribe to the Death, or to the Life;
Our Lives, Wives, Children, Fortunes lye
At one Rogues turning of a Dye.

He'l Swear ye through a Milstone, Lye
From the Earth's Center to the Sky.
He'l split y' a Hair, and ever after
Sink ye between Wind and Water.
Give you a Broad-side, Board ye, rake ye,
Hall ye, burn ye, stem ye, take ye;
Bear-up, luff, or tack-about,
In all Winds and Weathers, in or out.

Like Proteus, change to every shape,
Lion, Lamb, Fox, Dog or Ape;
Drink ye all Waters, swallow Death,
And yet never be out of breath.
Turn him every way and wind him,
But true you shall never find him.
He's every thing for what you gave him,
To do or undo, as you'd have him.

These are but Knights o'th' Post and Petty-Foggers,
Bumbaily Slaves and dull Plow-Joggers;
'Twould vex a Man to starve or hang
By such, fit for nought but to bang.
Give us the Equivocating Proctors,
The sublime Reservation Doctors;
The lofty Rosicrucian strains,
That purchase Kingdoms for their pains.

Hang Dammy-Boys, Stiletto-Blades,
Porters, Carmen, Assassinates.
The Wits, the Wits, the State Divines,
Loretta, Compostella Shrines;
The Rota, or the Areopagus,
Apollonius, or Simon Magus;
A Felton, or Ravilliac's Hand,
A Massanello's Command.

The Man in Hair-Cloth, the bald Crown,
Devours the Riches of the Town;
For all his Cords, Sack and Hair-dressing,
Lords and Ladies must ask him Blessing.
A Crosier, Miter, Triple Crown,
Scepters and Diadems pull down.
This is Cheating with a Witness,
Betwixt Religion and Fitness.

The rest are Mongrel Curs, that Bark,
But dare not Bite, save in the dark.
Pitiful Buffoons, and Bumkin Boors,
Send 'um to truck amongst the Moors.
Give us the Renegado Blades,
That drive the Turk or Jewish Trades.
What's a pimping Shark or Rook?
Let's die bravely by the Book.

'Tis we prompted the ugly Moor,
To bar up the Castle-door;
Ravish the Lady, Lord comes home,
Slave mounts to th' upper Room,
Murders his Children 'fore his face;
Begging to spare his younger Race,
He yields, if he will cut off his Nose;
The Father did so; the Slave chose

To kill the last Child, throws him down,
And himself split upon the ground.

Th' Italian threats his Friend to kill,
Except he swear aginst his will;
To save his life, he swore, was sham'd;
Then die, says he, Villain, and die damn'd!
A Bigot, to revenge his Brothers death
Arms Cap-a-pee, foams out of breath;
Ceases not to Swear and Swagger,
Till h'as the Murdrers Heart or point Dagger.

CANTO VII.

Ours are Robbin-Hood, Whipping-Tom, and all the Lines
Of Bloody Guelphs and Gibbelins.
We were at the Sycilian Evensong,
To Paris Massacre we did throng,
Where Blood and Wine were spilt and drank;
Good store, to play a wedding Prank,
Upon St. Bartholomew his score;
For that trick, Trust him no more.

Peter Ramus, after all their Looks,
Thou wast found hid under thy Books.
Varlets all gone, but one, he had a Charm,
Alas poor Scholar, felt thy Cushion warm.
Thou diest a Scholars death with all thy Logick;
Was not this a gallant Frollick!
A Marshal, and brave Souls, had their lot
That dismal Night, to go to th' Pot.

The Powder-Treason, Eighty Eight,
All the Conspiracies of late.

We built the Scaffold for a King,
Before his House of Banquetting;
After long baiting, out of breath,
Brought to his Door to feast on Death.
One kept on's knees, pray'd for good luck,
Whilst the Fatal Blow was struck.

Bajazet's Cage, and Pompey's Boat,
Where the Egyptian cut his Throat;
Seneca's Bath, Phalaris Bull,
The Trojan Horse, believ't that wull;
The groaning Stairs, the Starving Vault,
With the Lamp everlasting fraught;
The Sack thrown in the Sea, fast tyed,
With Dog, Ape, Viper, Cock and Parricide.

Jack Straw, Wat Tylar, Perkin, Simson,
Went for Princes clad in Crimson,
Till we brought them to the Spit,
Or Gallows, to learn more wit.
John-a-Styles, and John-an-Okus,
Jack Tredescan, Hocus Pocus.
Jugglers, Gypsies and Trepanners,
With neither Honesty nor Manners;
Every Son or Mothers Daughter,
Of Rogues and Rascals follow after.

At the Black Rock, the Northern Pole,
We fish for huge Whales and Cajole.
All the white Greenland Bears,
To fall together by the ears.
There's a sad rout; we leave them for meat
For Fins and Laplanders to eat.
We meet and welcom at a day,
All the Monsters of Africa.

We whisper in a Rain-Deers ear,
And read a Lecture to a Steer;
Then up we get upon their Bums,
Soaring i'the Air and knitting Thrums:
Many a deadly stitch we fetch,
In Nets and Noozes Men to catch.
Oh 'tis brave Sport, the trade we drive,
To kill all the Bees in a Hive.

We gather all the poys'nous Grass,
That grows upon the Hills of Brass;
In Springs and Lakes, and Rivers sides,
At Low Water and Spring Tides;
In Woods and Grotto's, Sands and Rocks,
We scratch our Rumps and tear our Smocks
To find out deadly Drugs and Simples,
For the Plague, Poxes or Pimples.

These we distil, and temper wisely,
And give Doses at hours precisely;
Under such or such a Star,
Or Aspects for Peace or War;
Kind or Malignant, Quartiles, Trines,
Either for good or bad Designs.
The Face of Heaven is fair or foul,
According as we smile or scowl.

The Twelve Houses by us are haunted,
The whole World by them's enchanted;
Ascendents, Lords and Ladies of the Hour,
All influenced by our Power.
In Zeniths, Azimuths, and Nadirs,
In Almacantars we are Traders;
We square the Circle, double the Cube,
Find the Degrees of Longitude.

The Ptolomaick and Copernick Spheres,
Set 'Stronomers together by the ears.
Pixes, Plots, Charts, Globes and Maps,
Give Demonstrations by haps;
So do Galilean Glasses, Quadrants,
Loxodromi for some Vagrants;
Schemes, Horolgies, Horoscopes,
Astrolabes and Telescopes.

In Laboratories zealous Fire,
The Chymists Limbicks we inspire,
To firk up Salts, fix'd or volatil,
Spirits of Silver, Gold and Steel,
Sulphur and Mercury dance in a wheel;
Egyptian Mummies, and the Moss
Of Dead-mens Skulls purged from Dross;
Elixars, Quintescential Draughts,
Raising Sallets, and such like Crafts.

Fusil Marble, Glass malleable,
Aurum Potable and Friable;
The Rare Inventions that are lost,
We recover without cost.
Otacousticon's Screws and Springs;
Automaton's Self-moving Gins:
The Oil of Everlasting Lamps,
The Art of killing, killing Damps.

Flowers of Ashes, many Feats
Of Dry and Moist, of Colds and Heats;
Jumbling blind Nature too and fro,
And Metamorphosing her too.
Come before her and behind her,
You shall not know where to find her.

Her Secretaries and her Masters,
Turning and winding her in all Disasters.

Panpharmacon's Elixar vitæ,
Extractions high and mighty;
Hunt Nature out of her Bow'r,
By Calcining every hour:
Ferret her out of sculking places,
Vertumnus like, changing her Faces:
In all things striving to out-do her,
Yet for all this th' are glad to woe her.

Changing her shapes, and in a Reek,
Making her play Hide and Seek;
Into prime Atoms her reducing,
By Separating and Infusing:
Putting her into Fainting-Fits;
And scaring her out of her Wits,
Till the Artist be left i'th' lurch,
With neither Wit, nor Mony in his Purse.

Archimedes, forsooth, lackt a Base,
(Be it spoke to his disgrace,)
On which if he had stood, he would
Have turn'd the Globe round, if he could.
Prometheus stole a spark of Fire,
To put Life into Dirt and Mire.
These are all lamentable Shirks,
Compar'd with our Monster-inchanting-Works.

The Sybils Leaves, Mercurius Wand,
Jove's Thunder-bolts we can command.
The Staining and the Nealing Glass,
Spiriting all that ever was.

The size for gilding Balls like Flames,
And other Secrets without Names:
In Earnest, what was thought a Jest,
White Powder, and the Phœnix Nest;
Fine Washings, hot Perfumes and Varnish,
Imbroyd'ring, and Inlaying Garnish.

The Scarlet Fish, and Gyges Ring,
And every Invisible thing.
When Spirits fall together by the Ears,
To lay them by the Musick of the Sphears;
To walk about Incognito,
To set a work Robbin good Fellow;
To make Fortunatus Cap
Of Maintenance, and all good Hap.

To Conjure Spirits under-ground,
To find things, that could ne're be found;
To renew Age, and call back Years,
To free men from all Cares and Fears;
To charm the Moon, and stop the Sun,
To awaken Endymion.
Charm Cerberus, stop Charon's Throat,
Drown him in Styx, and sink his Boat.

We cut the Bottom of the Streights,
Into the Red Sea, spight of Fates;
It could ne're be done before,
The Sea threatned to drown the Shore:
For India thence we dare set out,
Cape-bon-Speranza is about.
Frobisher, Anian, Davis North-east-Way,
From Nova Zembla to China.

Speak but a word to a Stake,
A lusty Fellow it shall make;
To bake your Bread, or brew your Beer,
To roast and sawce all your good Cheer:
Cook all your Pasties, Pies and Tarts,
March-pains, and the sweetning Arts;
Hogo's, Fricacies, and Oleo's,
Gusto's of all sorts, Quarto's and Folio's.

Distill Spirits, raise Perfumes,
For Persian or Arabian Rooms.
He'l make you Fires, cut Wood, draw Water,
Do all the Butchery and Slaughter:
Hunt, Hawk, Dig and Delve in Mines,
Cut Quarries, Grub-up Roots of Pines;
Drive Wagons, Plow, Rowl, Sow, or Harrow,
Dung or Marl Land with Court or Barrow.

Clyp, Coyn, Stamp Brass, Cast false Rings,
Glass Jewels, and Counterfeit Things.
We can neatly Cog a Dye,
Or cast a Mist before your Eye;
Poyson at an hour, day, or year,
Whom you please, far or near:
Draw a Rock down with a Twine,
Or a Castle undermine.

Stop a River, Drain the Ocean,
Swallow Cities Bragadocian.
One of us can keep a Town,
Defeat an Army, Steal a Crown.
Venetian Treasure we did Rob,
'Twas a very pretty Job.

Stop Breaches, Scale Walls, Choak a Gun,
Shoot White Powder, make 'um run,
Follow 'um, pull 'um down, never a done.

CANTO VIII.

We live alone, like Amazons,
Admit of Slaves to serve our turns;
No otherwise than as Stallions,
Then turn them off, as poor Pigmalions.
We can have Fiends to cool our Heats,
Or fire us into lustful Feats;
Th' Infernal Gallants, fresh and fresh,
Feast on Witches ranker Flesh;
And to enjoy our full Delights,
We aim to be all Hermophrodites.

The Shee Eagle's the Bird of Prey,
Takes all the Care, bears all the Sway;
The Male's a Cuckold, a Slug, a Fop,
Just like a Midwifes drunken Top;
Shee labours, and takes all the gains
Fees the poor Lubbard for his pains.
The right meaning is, we Witches
Will have the Women wear the Breeches.

Lack you an Old Doegna Devil,
To be the Mistress of all Evil;
To help you to a fresh Whore,
To make you rich, to make you poor;
To cure the Pox, or other Strains,
The Flux, or Running of the Reins;
A Clap or so, Parboil or Stew,
Till you come to another Hue.

She Paints, she Patches, she makes Issues;
But you must cloth her in Gold and Tissues.
She picks your Pocket, Commands all
In Kitchin, Parlour, Chamber, Hall.
If a By-blow comes, she is to hide it,
The Dam must marry, simper, Bride it;
Put the Bastard out to Nurse,
Or strangle it, 'tis ne're the worse:
But preventing Physick's best,
Poyson the Egg in the Nest.

A Cup of Love is a Ladies Lure,
Be she never so demure;
That will fetch her when nothing can,
She'l quickly learn to know a Man.
Let her try; she never meant it,
But she had a good intent in't:
She thought she could, and she could indeed,
Alas, poor Soul, it was but need.
But more than all this, 'tis truly said,
She could ne're remember she was a Maid.

She shall take Bribes of every Lover,
That in and about the House do hover;
Save them from fidling in a cold Tide,
Bring them to their Mistress Bed-side:
Convey a Letter from a Sinner
In Napkin, as she sits at Dinner;
Speak a good Word to Lady or Master,
To make the Match go on the faster.

Now what is more that you can think on,
Give us Paper, Pen and Inkhorn;
We'l write down all you would have done,
To the Sive and Sheers, and clouted Shun.

We'l play at small game, marry come out,
Any thing, rather than give out.
We study mischief, and you too,
And let us alone to do.

We clamber to the roaring Bear,
And to the dreadful Dragon near:
The Barking Dog-Star makes us mad,
The warbling Lyra makes us glad;
Taurus butts us with his Horn,
Orion passes by in scorn;
The Swan sings dying Notes that please us,
The Ramping Lion would disease us.

We put on Berenices Hair,
And sit in Cassiopeias Chair;
By the great Star that there appear'd,
All the Astronomers were jeer'd.
The Constellations flame about us,
But can neither hurt nor rout us.
To us the Stars do all appear,
Within the Southern Hemisphere.
Thus about, about we roll,
From th' Artick to the Antartick Pole.

All the Gods and Goddesses, to see to,
At best could never do as we do.
Mercury, a Common Carrier,
Pallas, a weak Woman Warrier,
Apollo, is but a Farrier;
Mars, a kind of Reformado,
Vulcan, a meer Bravado;
Bacchus, a reeling drunken Sot,
Could never get out of a Pot.

Neptune, Thetis, Nymphs and Tritons,
A Company of Slight ones;
What could they do, but catch Fishes,
And serve them up in Cockle-Dishes;
In Sowce and Brine, and Pickle swimming,
Rugged as Bears for want of trimming:
Broken Wrecks are their best goods,
Keep Court in state upon the Floods.

Cupid goes about a shooting,
After whining Lovers hooting;
Lazy Venus lies a Bed,
Cuckolds Vulcans horned Head;
Hercules Wields a knot of Wood,
'Tis likely that should do much good;
A Lions Skin forsooth he wears,
Some silly Beasts and Cowards scares;
Kills a few Ox or Sheep, and knocks down
Some pitiful Squire or Country-Cocks comb.

Polyphemus has but one Eye,
Argus an hundred, a great Spy;
Hydra's multiplied Heads
Could never sleep quiet in their Beds;
Juno had but a little Envy in her,
None of her Trulls was such a Sinner
As the meanest Witch, good for no more
Than to watch a Country-Whore.

We tempt Ladies, to steal to bed
To Grooms and Thrashers, to be sped;
Hogen Mogens nurst at Poor-folks Fires,
May have Varlets and Pages for their Sires.
From the Stage to the Dairy,
So to the Kitchin; take all that's Aery.

Or any ugly dirty Trulls
Better than Wives, for such base Gulls.

CANTO IX.

We mak't our business to distract
Mankind, in Societies compact;
Kings, Consuls, Tribunes could not please 'um,
Triumvirs nor Decemvirs ease 'um;
Dictators, Cæsars must Rule at large,
Make People Slaves at their own Charge.
This is the way to have all lost,
When all strive to be uppermost.

The better to work a fatal Change,
Our Emissaries about do range.
Bards, Druids, Brackmans, Augurs, Flamens,
Ægypt, Chaldee, and Romes Amens;
Fit Instruments for us to work
Ruine, to Christian, Jew or Turk.
A brave employment 'tis to Ride
Princes, and all the World divide.

The Maid of Orleans and of Kent
We set up, for no good intent.
There are other Names and Factions,
By whom we make most rare Distractions;
Inroads, Incursions and Invasions,
We lye Perdue on all Occasions;
For Destruction to all places,
And carry it out with stately Graces.

Commons separate from Nobles,
Causes of mutual Troubles.
The Servile War, when Slaves rebel,
Rings out a State or Kingdoms Knell.
Liberty and Prerogative
Out-stretcht, make neither Party thrive.
Suspicions, Jealousies and Fears,
Sets all together by the Ears.

Hannibal knocks at Romes Gates,
But turns back in spight of Fates.
Scipio hasts, Fabius delays,
Both their poor Country betrays.
Pompey aspires to Rule alone;
But Cæsar will be Cæsar, or none.
Not endure the Name of King;
An Emperour is every Thing.

Ephori Tribunes, Overseers,
Prove th' Plagues of Kings and Peers.
Down, down with Pen and Inkhorn Men,
And, Hey Boys up go we then.
Thirty Tyrants at a time,
In Government make a rare Chime.
Devils, they say, may soon be rais'd;
But when up, not so soon laid.

Richlieus, Cromwells, Mazarines,
Lamberts; false to King and Queens:
The Principles of Machiavel,
And the Leviathan, sprung from Hell.
Infus'd by us, upon their Beds,
Into their dull Loggerheads.
But that for us, th'had ne're transacted
The Rogueries by them compacted.

The Scotch and Punick Faith agree,
Believe nothing, but what you see;
St. Omers and Geneva Breed,
The Dort and the Tridentine Creed:
The Dutch are Slugs, 'tis but Civility
To believe Impossibility.
We'l warrant all our words must stand,
They do but execute our Command.

Do try us, put all upon our score,
We'l teach you ne're to b'honest more.
Would you be sure, trust to your Gammars,
The Devils are but Niny-hammers.
I'le warrant you, we'l do your business rarely,
But so, as it shall ne're be done fairly.
Be true and just says the Puling Fool,
Pack him away to the Jesuits School.

Go, starve ye lazy honest Dogs,
And keep company with Hogs;
For ye are not fit for Men, come out,
What does an Honest man among the Rout?
Kick him off the Bench, throw him or'e the Ba
What should Honesty do there?
The Pulpit will scarce hold him, it leans awry,
He'l tumble down presently.

Squat him into a Presbyterian Chair,
'Twill never hold him full nor fair.
Let him have a Confessor's Ear,
He shall come no more there.
Where shall this Honest man become?
Can the World afford him no room?
He may strike in among the Indian Slaves,
Though poor, yet they hate Knaves.

They refus'd Swearings, as they of Greece,
But they'd be true and keep the Peace.
To Alexander they were just,
Not Swear and Forswear, as Greeks must.
Remember Interest, worship that Numen,
Ye cannot live, if ye be True Men;
Viis & Modis, turn her and wind her,
Right or wrong, you'l be sure to find her.

Court the Rabble, invent Plots,
Raise Scruples, tye and unty Knots;
Garble the State, trip up the Crown,
Set up the Cloak, pull th' Miter down.
Private Cabals, Intrigues and Fetches,
Create miserable Wretches.
Plate Jewels, Bodkins, Thimbles, Rings,
Maintain Armies against Kings.

If all fail, Call in the Turk,
Set us Witches and the Devils to work;
Fight with Tongues, Pens and Hands,
Play at cross Purposes and Commands.
Property and Levelling,
Simpering and Revelling;
Petitions and Flattering Caresses,
Abhorrences and false Addresses.
These are Devices by us taught,
The High-way to bring all to naught.

Major-Generals, Decimators,
Surveyors, Trustees, Cross-Undertakers;
Especially those famous Tryers,
Church, State, King and Self-Denyors;
Commissaries, Patentees, Excise-Men,
Informers, Publicans, Precise-Men.

Darby-House, or Goldsmiths-Hall,
Erected by us, Rascals all.

Saints of all Sizes, Wet and Dry,
You may believe me, I'le tell you no Lye,
Swear together to live and dye,
And give one another the Go-by.
Send them all for Expedition,
To the Rota or Inquisition.

Roman, Geneva Bulls or Bears
Fall together by the Ears.
Covenants, Associations,
Real Lines of Communications:
All these make a Charming noise
To bewitch Fools; the Cause, the Cause,
The good Old Cause, the Golden Cause!
And Hey, then up go we brave Boys.

CANTO X.

The bloody Hypocrite Cruzado,
The Mendoza Rhodomontado;
The Fox, Ape, Crocodile Hyæna,
The Nobody-knows, what ye mean-a.
The Musical Snake hisses and rattles,
The proud Hen lays her Eggs and Cackles;
The fawning Ape kisses, and hugs
Her Whelps to death, the Bears lick up her Pugs.

The Drunken Sow with a Wanion,
I know no better Pot-Companion;
The Hector Goaring-Bull and Butting-Ram,
The Lustful Goat fills up his Dam:

The Peacock, swollen with Pride,
Would very fain her black Legs hide;
The Swan the like, when she should cry,
Shee chooses rather to sing and dye.

Who'd think't the Famous Allegator,
Sure he is some Sea-Arbitrator.
The Sword-Fish, that nimble Thrasher,
The Whale-with's Tail shall cut and slash her;
The Shee-Bear, the Wolf-Child-chopper,
The Cow licks up the poor Grass-hopper;
The Cormorant scowrs the Ponds, the Stork turns down
All the Offal in the Town.

But, oh, the Spark-Eye, the Bewitching-Face,
The Rosy-Lips kill with a Grace!
The Clapper-Clag, and Silver-Twang,
Leads away many a Simple-Gang,
Like Pitchers by the ears a Roguing,
By Flattering, Lying, and Cologuing;
'Tis a Brave Instrument of Evil,
We use it better than the Devil.

If there be any good ones, 'tis so much the worse,
I have'um all under my Curse:
Widows, Strangers, Fatherless,
I trample down in their Distress.
Let me alone, I'le fright 'um, fear 'um,
Swinge 'um, rack 'um, cramp 'um, tear 'um;
Wou'd I were their Nurse, I'de feed'um, cram 'um,
Whip 'um, hang 'um, ram 'um, dam 'um;
Villains all; am not I their Grannum.

Harpies, Furies, are Lictors
To us Magistrates and Victors.
At his Horns Vulcan takes a Pet,
Holds Mars and Venus in his Net:
Scavinger-Hercules, the Kennel-Raker,
The He-Ranter and She-Quaker.
Hang them up all together,
To feed Crows in wind and weather.

Methinks I wallow all in Lakes
Of Frogs and Toads, Vipers and Snakes;
It is a pleasure t'have such Mates,
And to over-rule the Fates.
What can the Devils do more; if need,
Or can they do so much indeed?
I am sure we dare defy'um,
And in all Points all times out-vy 'um.

This is the Trade of old w'have driven,
And shall, as long as we be liven;
But we must dye, and post away
To Hell, for ever and a day.
But to make sure, before we go,
We will have all the World to know,
That they shall be in Hell, before
Ever we mean to give o're.

And when there's no more left to kill,
W'have done enough, we have our fill.
Now Devils quake, We come, we come,
Have at you Sirs, make room, make room.
Compound with us, or else w'have swore,
Henceforth ye shall be Devils no more.

We must Rule all, or set you such a Spell
As shall turn you all out of Hell.

I have but one poor Case to put,
(You'l say, I am an arrant Slut)
The Devils could ne're come to't,
Much less offer to set it a foot.
Suppose those Fiends all in a Nest,
Should crow'd into one Poor man possest.
They'l make him roar, you'l say, and yell,
As if he were tortur'd in Hell.
And what then? he raves, lays about him, flies
To Caves and Desarts, howls and dies.

A poor Business! in a kind of sport and play,
To kill all that lies in's way.
But what think ye, if less hurt is done in Hell, by far,
Than Witches do in Peace or War?
For ev'ry one now's a Fool or Madman,
Be't so, but still every one's a Badman.
This is something; No quiet when all are Itch'd,
All are undone, all are Bewitch'd!

Families, Cities, Kingdoms reel,
The World dances upon a Wheel:
Courts, Cities, Countries, Cloysters, Camps,
Colledges, Schools, all are upon the Rants;
All Statesmen, Teachers, Captains, Lords,
No believing Deeds nor Words.
I know not what to say more, under th' Sun,
We all undo, and are all undone.

All's Bedlam! all have their Figary-fits;
Shake hands; there's none of us in his right Wits?
To speak Truth, 'tis neither better nor worse,
And I am glad on't, all's a Curse!
I've spent my Breath, I've spent my Gall,
And yet this is not All.
I draw the Curtain conceive the Rest,
For I can paint no farther, bad's the Best,
When there can be no more exprest.