 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
A Westminster Wedding:
Or, the Town-Mouth; alias, the Recorder of London and his Lady. Feb. 17. 1679.
'Tis said when George did Dragon slay,
He sav'd a Maid from cruel Fray.
But this Sir George, whom Knaves do brag on,
Mist of the Maid, and caught the Dragon;
Since which the furious Beast so fell,
Stares, roars, and yawns like Mouth of Hell:
He raves and tears; his bad Condition
Distracts his Mind as late Petition.
Peace Man or Beast (or both) to please ye;
A Parliament will surely ease ye.
Marriage and Hanging both do go
By Destiny: Sir George, if so,
You stand as fairly both to have,
As ever yet did Fool or Knave:
The first your Wife hath help'd ye to,
The other as a Rogue's your due:
No other way is left to tame ye;
And if you have it not, then blame me.
But e'er it comes and things are fitting,
Judg of his Merits by his getting:
He'as got a ven'mous Heart and Tongue,
With Vipers, Snakes and Adders hung:
By which in Courts he plays the Fury,
Hectors Complainants, Law and Jury:
His Impudence hath all Laws broken,
(To th'Judges honour be it spoken)
For which he got a Name that stinks
Worse than the common Jakes or Sinks.
But to allay the Scent so hot,
George from the Court has Knighthood got
Bestow'd upon him for his bawling,
A Royal Mark for Caterwauling:
But certain George must never boast on't,
'Cause Traytors, Cheats and Pimps have most on't.
He sav'd a Maid from cruel Fray.
But this Sir George, whom Knaves do brag on,
Mist of the Maid, and caught the Dragon;
Since which the furious Beast so fell,
Stares, roars, and yawns like Mouth of Hell:
He raves and tears; his bad Condition
Distracts his Mind as late Petition.
Peace Man or Beast (or both) to please ye;
A Parliament will surely ease ye.
Marriage and Hanging both do go
By Destiny: Sir George, if so,
You stand as fairly both to have,
As ever yet did Fool or Knave:
The first your Wife hath help'd ye to,
The other as a Rogue's your due:
No other way is left to tame ye;
And if you have it not, then blame me.
But e'er it comes and things are fitting,
Judg of his Merits by his getting:
He'as got a ven'mous Heart and Tongue,
With Vipers, Snakes and Adders hung:
By which in Courts he plays the Fury,
Hectors Complainants, Law and Jury:
His Impudence hath all Laws broken,
(To th'Judges honour be it spoken)
173
Worse than the common Jakes or Sinks.
But to allay the Scent so hot,
George from the Court has Knighthood got
Bestow'd upon him for his bawling,
A Royal Mark for Caterwauling:
But certain George must never boast on't,
'Cause Traytors, Cheats and Pimps have most on't.
Now Rogue enough he got in favour,
To bind good Men to worse Behaviour;
And bark aloud they will deceive ye,
In that he matches Tribe of Levi;
Who now with Pope bear all before 'em,
Priests made Just—Asses of the Quorum.
Faith, make 'em Judges too, most fine-o,
And then they'll preach it all Divino.
There's somewhat more that George has got,
(For Trevor left him who knows what)
A teeming Lady-Wife, nay more,
A Hansenkelder got before:
As true a Wench they say for kissing,
As e'er her Father was for pissing;
Who thought his Tool could Fire quench,
Because it oft had serv'd his Wench.
O happy City! when the Brains, Sir,
Of Elders—hangs in Furs and Chains, Sir.
To bind good Men to worse Behaviour;
And bark aloud they will deceive ye,
In that he matches Tribe of Levi;
Who now with Pope bear all before 'em,
Priests made Just—Asses of the Quorum.
Faith, make 'em Judges too, most fine-o,
And then they'll preach it all Divino.
There's somewhat more that George has got,
(For Trevor left him who knows what)
A teeming Lady-Wife, nay more,
A Hansenkelder got before:
As true a Wench they say for kissing,
As e'er her Father was for pissing;
Who thought his Tool could Fire quench,
Because it oft had serv'd his Wench.
O happy City! when the Brains, Sir,
Of Elders—hangs in Furs and Chains, Sir.
But one thing more I can't let pass,
When George with Clodpate feasted last,
(I must say Clodpate was a Sinner,
To jerk his Brother so at Dinner;)
He by his Almanack did discover,
His Wife scarce thirty Weeks went over,
E'er she (poor thing) in pieces fell,
Which made Mouth stare and bawl like Hell;
And Puppy-like there told him truly,
First Leap he had was but last July.
What then, you Fool, some Wives miscarry,
And reckon June for January.
This Clodpate did assert as true,
Which he by old Experience knew;
But all his canting would not do.
George put him to't upon denial,
Which set him hard as Wakeman's Trial:
They rail'd and bawl'd, and kept a pother,
And like two Curs did bite each other;
Which brought some Sport, but no Repentance,
So off they went to Harris' Sentence,
Which soon they pass'd against all Laws,
To glut their Rage and Popish Cause:
For which Injustice, Knaves we hope
You'll end together in the Rope:
And when the Gallows shall you swallow,
We'll throw up Caps, and once more hollow.
If this we wish from private Grudg,
Or as their Merit, England's Judg:
Who seek the Nation to enthral,
Are treacherous Slaves and Villains all.
And when Confusion such does follow,
We'll throw up Caps, and once more hollow.
When George with Clodpate feasted last,
(I must say Clodpate was a Sinner,
To jerk his Brother so at Dinner;)
He by his Almanack did discover,
His Wife scarce thirty Weeks went over,
174
Which made Mouth stare and bawl like Hell;
And Puppy-like there told him truly,
First Leap he had was but last July.
What then, you Fool, some Wives miscarry,
And reckon June for January.
This Clodpate did assert as true,
Which he by old Experience knew;
But all his canting would not do.
George put him to't upon denial,
Which set him hard as Wakeman's Trial:
They rail'd and bawl'd, and kept a pother,
And like two Curs did bite each other;
Which brought some Sport, but no Repentance,
So off they went to Harris' Sentence,
Which soon they pass'd against all Laws,
To glut their Rage and Popish Cause:
For which Injustice, Knaves we hope
You'll end together in the Rope:
And when the Gallows shall you swallow,
We'll throw up Caps, and once more hollow.
If this we wish from private Grudg,
Or as their Merit, England's Judg:
Who seek the Nation to enthral,
Are treacherous Slaves and Villains all.
And when Confusion such does follow,
We'll throw up Caps, and once more hollow.
That's their Exit,
Tho they Rex-it,
We shall Grex-it.
Tho they Rex-it,
We shall Grex-it.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |