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The Second part of The Nights Search

Discovering The Condition of the various Fowles of Night. Or, The second great Mystery of Iniquity exactly revealed: With the Projects of these Times. In a Poem, By Humphrey Mill

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SECT. VII.
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44

SECT. VII.

A Carpenter the Divill turnes,
And in a Brothell-house, he learnes
To pimp about. He falls in love
With two or three that lye above.
He'ad been gentile, to please one whore,
Had not the Surg'on found her sore.
A Cheat, complaints, a filthy damp
From Traytours vaults, the beastly Camp;
A Phœnix-found; two sherking Spies;
The Bawds profession, ere she dies.
After the storme, the clouds which did embrace
The nights black bosome, flatter'd with disgrace,
Prove Turne-coats on her; or, like Moores in spite,
Being black themselves, do paint the Devill white:
Their shrowds were gleanes & comets. Now their pride
(Their watrie robes dropt peece-meale) cannot hide
The passages of Hell: they rather make
A Court of Guard, that the infernall Lake
May have commerce more freely: at the last,
Hell sent a private Spie, who with a blast.

a Spie.


Mounts to an upper roome, and gain'd reliefe,
Where Cock the Coblers Pink commands in chiefe.
His habit like a Carpenter, his hose

His habit.


Of Beggars velvet, here and there a rose
Brancht out with fruits; his wast-coat verie red,
A plaited band, a cap wrought on his head,
A rule by's side, his apron rugged leather,
His stockings blue, his heeles went close together;

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With flat sol'd shooes. I drawing neere to see,
His cloke-bag hose were ti'd above the knee:
His hands were brawnie, with a swarfie face,

his person.


Much like the Jew that us'd to haunt the place,
Which ends this bawdie Row. Black Nick's their guest,
Who minds them most, when they do mind him least.
He's much in love with Cock, and haunts her bed,
He ccurts her twice, and if her maiden-head
Had been but vampt, sh'ad pleas'd this cautious Spie,
Who fear'd the heat. She did but draw his eye;
He hopes to match her, to encrease the breed

The Divel's in love.


Of Vulcans nephews, and the Serpents seed.
He loves the Mistresse too, because she's right,
He'd be the Jewes corrivall: but to night
The Clerk must bcord her first; hee'll patience learne,
Finding she breeds up others for his turne,
And payes the use to hell: when she doth call,
Who hopes at last to have the principall.
This fiend is active, downward he doth creep,
And finds a vassall enter'd, fast asleep,

Custome for sin.


Who had not paid the custome for his sin,
But thought to cheat the Devill; who came in
And like a coarse he winds him in the sheet,
And carr's him out, and layes him in the street;
By rule he measur'd him, as though his doome
Had been to make his coffin or his tomb,
But left him on his face, as if this slave
For's penance, were to scratch himselfe a grave.
When waking he amazed, and affright,
With trembling joynts, fierce looks, with's haire upright

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Ran to, and fro: he by experience found

The devils grave:


His lodging was upon the Devills ground;
Where he will build anew, or pitch his tent,
And for this end this carpenter was sent.
He's often in the cellar, through a chink
He'll peep, when Giunie comes to draw the drink,
Sculk in the drinking-rooms, when any whore
Lookes on his face, he slinks behind the doore
And vanisheth: yet knocking neare the rout,
Stamps on the flowre, and throwes the goods about:
Trips up the staires, and finds a sherk a bed,
He walks about the room, then holds his head.
He proves a constant ghuest, both night, and day,
But like the Scotch-man, Deile a groat he'll pay.
Well, Nick mounts higher yet, and whets his tooles,
Throwes down the table, up and down the stooles:
And finds a Pinnace waking, by and by
He takes his axe ands lifts it up on high,

The devills tooles.


Aimes at her necke, and holds it o're the bed,
As though he did intend to chop her head
Off at a blow: if thus he had serv'd this jade,
'Thad been enough to've spoiled the hang-mans trade.
A reall warning! and the stroke had been,
But yet she is not blacke enough with sin.
She's fearfull, strange, she doth not like his pitch,
If she were old enough to make a witch,

She likes not his pitch.


He'd grow familiar with her, then he spy'd
A Surgeon coming on, who must be fry'd,

The Surgeons sears.


For being scalded, or the old disease
Creeps through her bones, which can afford no ease:

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Must have a private search, and who but he
Attend him up? the Carpenter must see.
Sometimes he'd peepe, and by and by he'd pause,
First here, then there; and when he found the cause,
Slunk out of sight, the Surgeon saw him first,
Call'd for a Jugge of beere, to quench his thirst;
Tooke him to be the tapster: but in feare
He left his Patient, and forgot his beere.
The Carpenter was taken with this Jade,
And for her sake he had forsooke his Trade,
Pack't up his tooles, and sent away his boxe,
Save that he was afraide to catch the ------
Or to be burn'nt, he could not leave his Nel:
Alas, he knowes there's heate enough in hell.
I heard a sudden knocking, at a dore,
None in the house, but choise of goods, and store:
The answer was, No person is within,
They heard one as they saide, and doe begin
To give salutes, to blinde the Neighbours eyes,
They put one in, and car'd away the prize.
Neare to that place, was a malignant crue,
Plotting deceits: (let Cæsar have his due)
And spurne at those (like Drones within the hives)
That fetch them hony, to preserve their lives.
Then coming neare their Camp, some swore, som drunk,
Each, two or three, betwixt them had their punck:
Some rob'd, some stole, and brought it to their den,
They've license for't, shall Princes loose their men
For want of pincks and plunder, Is it right?
Th' associated pillage made'em fight.

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As they preserve Truth, Liberty, and Lawes,
So let them thrive: let Justice trie the cause.
Here's one comes moaning of her selfe, her case
Is very bad; she cannot keepe her place
For Supervisers. Wenches tooke away
For Bridewell birds. But I shall see the day
When they shall suffer for this foule abuse.
I made amends. Now pleasures out of use,
If such prevaile, we that have pleas'd the Age,
Shall have rewards; in Bridewell, or the Cage.
But here's another (which is rare to finde)
Of better temper: formerly too kinde,
Which breakes her heart, makes teares drop downe along
Her paler cheekes: true sorrow moves her tongue,
Thus, to disclose her greife:
Oh! thou that govern'st all things, pitty mee!
That have lov'd sinners, and forsaken thee!
I've purchast shame. Oh! thou that giv'st all grace,
Shew me thy beauty, let me see thy face
In sweeter termes: and let thy Spirit fill
My soule with love of thee, to hate all ill.
Teach me to feare thee, while I draw my breath:
And free me from the snares of sinne and death.
Although in sinne I've spent my former dayes,
Yet, make me now an Instrument of prayse.
Among the fondlings one is founde, here blest:
Who like a Pliemix will disgrace the rest.
I press't on still (my night being sharpe and long)
And spy'd two Shifters, but I held my tongue.
One was in threed-bare scarlet, wanting colour;

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The other was in blacke: as he grew duller
His robes turned gray with age: 'twas my intent
To marke their carriage: to a stewes they went.
The bawde was Pocky-sicke; yet spoke this beast:
Ah! I am going to eternall rest,
To see my Saviour. I must minde my toombe.
Those whom you seeke are in the drawing roome.
Goe, take your choise, when I am dead and rotten,
Honest Meg Spencer will not be forgotten.

Meg Spencer


My Girles were free, you never knew that I
Disgrac't a man that left our company.
What comforts this to me! goe, I am ill:
You stand in thornes untill you have your will.

Morrall


Here's mischeife in the abstract: In their path
Sin walkes with hell in state: death arm'd with wrath
Doggs them behinde. The divell keepes his Court
A while on earth, to make his fondlings sport.
Had hell a quezie stomacke, they might bee
Sav'd from her Jawes: or at the least if shee
Did swallow them: when once she left the paine
(To ease her spleene) she'd spue them up againe,
But nothing frets her lungs: she needes must thrive:
The ten horn'd beast she swallow'd downe alive,
With monstrous locusts, she'll her Patent use,
To take in all which Heavens doth refuse
Bawd-like, the Spider, in his Pantry spies,
To sieze the heedelesse carkases of flies;
And vent his poyson'd humours. For his hire
He with his brood are swept into the fire,
Or prest to death. As wandring Comets fall

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To earth from whence they rose, (this rabble shall
Speede like the Spider) and their sparkling flame
Shall fall as low as hell: but still their shame
Must live on earth: Except my papers rot,
Or time consume their memorie. If not,
Some sharper quill may chase them to their Inne,
When they have onely priviledge to sinne;
And pleasures are degraded, by their paines,
Old time consum'd; Eternity remaines.