The Second part of The Nights Search :: :: University of Virginia Library

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

Mill, Humphrey

[section]

[dedication]

[All those that would these lines digest]

To the degenerate Nobility, and new found Gentry.

To all Judges, Justices, Church-Wardens, Constables, &c.

To the Fowles of Night.

To his friend Mr. H. Mill, upon his Discoveries of Night.

To his ingenious friend Mr. Mill, upon his loftie Discoveries of Night.

To his industrious and quick-sighted friend, Mr. Humphrey Mill, upon his Night-search.

To his worthy friend Mr. Mill, upon his excellent Poem of the Night-Birds.

THE Second Part of the Nights Search, discovering the conditions of the various Fowles of Night.

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

10.

11.

12.

XIII.

XIV.

Sect. XIV.

XV.

XV.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

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Sect. XIV.

The Usurer and Broker stept
Into a hole; how dry'd: Whore kept
The rueful Court. A Witch descry'd:
A devilish Lawyer in his pride.
The speechles bell. A trap, two stroyes:
A Beggar doth adopt two Boyes.
The vaporing Rogues, new Traitors found:
The Guards neglected in the Round.
A Welchmans guilt much sorrow brings:
Though he complains, his Cozen sings.

So many changes in a night! before
The meadows were like sallet sugger'd ore,
Now change their party colours: and the Ice
E'rewhile was proof of steel; yet in a trice
Fals in consumption: as it doth decay
Ingenders treach'rous pits, which do betray
My 'nocent Babes. The Broker doth begin
To try the depth; the Usurer steps in
To free his Debtor. To be dry'd they went
To White-crosse-street. The Usurer had lent
The Broker many a pound; and he (no doubt)
Had lent upon good pawns the money out.
This house had pawn'd him divers pretious things,
Silk Peticoats, and Gowns, with Diamond rings,

Hats, scarffs, and dressings, handkechers of lawn:
Their smocks in time of trouble went to pawn,
To line themselves within. When trading fails,
Poor tyers Hackneys cannot pawn their ------

The Usurer is fearful (not of sin)
Since Story broke, he'l call his money in:

in Cow-crosse.

Yet, having seen the pawns, without abuse,
He'l have gratuity besides the use:
For feelings now and then, he'l be content

the conditions.

To take'em here; forbear the money lent,
So he be shot-free. Trading will increase,
Seing cut-throat huxters sue to make their peace.

With that I met a man that rung a bell,

the Court in Hell.

Who thought the Marshall-Court was kept in Hell:
Chief Officers were sunk; the Marshals brains
Could find no grave: the Steward left his gains.
The Cryer and the Jaylor, with the rest,
Which to recrute their Den were judg'd the best,
By Devils are preferr'd. How they agree,
You'l hear more on't; for Web is gone to see.

A Lawyer known, that died, of Lincolns-Inne
Appear'd in sight, as living he had bin;
Who spit out haile-shot: which did fall so fast,
That made us run. A seeming beauty past,
And kept her distance: as we trac'd the ground,
His bell grew speechlesse: having lost the sound,
So, Damb yet still remains. And in a fray
A Witch, Cat-like, did carr' his Dog a way.

Then one that had been carted for a bawd,
Complain'd she was betray'd: yet did applaud

The plot of those that bargain'd for a Whore,
And made her panderesse to keep the door,
Till Tostes came, from one whom she did sue,
Who call'd her so; but could not prove it true,

carting.

Till sin conceiv'd again; which with consent
Made proclamation for her punishment.

A man compleat in habit, dogg'd a Whore,
Asham'd to arm her: but he mark't the door
Where (fetching of a compas) she went in:
He follow'd after; not asham'd of sin,

dogging a Whore.

So it be private. Sorrow meets with shame,
To seize his person first, and then his name.

With that I heard three voices sing with grace,
The Mean, the Treble, and the Beggers Base:

the Beggers adoption.

Two of them vapouring Citizens, both known,
Adopted by the Begger for his own.
He'l bring them up, that they may grow more vile;
Let them but sin, and he will beg the while
To bear'em out in't. Then this Grandy sings,
A publike Maunder; deals with private things.

Still moving on, I heard a hideons brawl;
Their chief Commander had been a Corporal,
But now cashierd: they swore and did protest
They're Majors all; a Captain was the least:

Major. Corporal.

And so they passe, they live by theft; and rore,
With sack-split-oaths: Each Vassal keeps his Whore.
Horn was as great, though he in New-gate try'd
The Virginals, till he at Tyburn dy'd.

But in a Fog, I heard a twisted breath,
As though that sin and Hell had brawl'd with death

For's lazinesse: but near the Dammee crue
I durst not venter (as I lay perdue)
Being twice in such (so like the Devils) hands,
I bought distrust; I do not like such bands.

Methought I heard these words;

compositions.

We have compounded for the bloud we spilt,
Which ran as Round-heads; purg'd away the guilt
By a confiding Oath. And now we may
Without distrust, walk weapon'd night and day,
To find out Royalists, about the Town,

bold Rogues.

Upon Commission, pull the prisons down,
To make a gallant party. If we please
To raise a stock, we'l plunder, rob, and seize
On any thing. Our projects being hid,
Will better thrive then ever Waller's did
With Roiler's wit. Our fortunes all are crost;
Let's swear each other: 'tis but labour lost.
We're all made men, if this invention thrives:
Or at the worst we can but lose our lives.
We are despis'd. We may (our Father tels)

desperate villains.

Break faith with Hereticks and Infidels.

What sores may break when knaves are discontented?
It's best to doubt, to have the worst prevented.
Their water's low; they double in like shrimps:
As witches are forsaken by their Imps.
When Justice meets them; so, these twice sold slaves
Are left by wrath, to vengeance-purchast graves.

Then to the line I went, to walk the round;
Where fast asleep a Centinel I found:

I check'd him thus; Thou art cipher'd Ginne,

neglects of the guards.

To let knaves out with ease, and villains in.
The guards were carelesse, with their matches out;
Some drunk, some absent, others marcht about
In grumbling postures: wheels, when wanting liquer,
Do move as free, and turn about much quicker.
They take a charge, but not discharge the thing;
An old acquittance goes for Manwaring;
A cancell'd bill, they passe in Reading's name
They read their ignorance, and passe their shame,
When folly's in the front. They love to look
As did the tripe wife in her guilded book,
Who could not read a word. But this they say,
They do their duties as they have their pay.
Their wages small; yet this their hardest lot,
That sometimes they are paid, and sometimes not.
The Master Gunners run so far in debt,

neglect of pay.

Their credits die. The poor Matrosses get
Their poverty renewed. Ah! then thought I,
The Stewards are unjust. Truth must not die.

At my return, I found within the Citie
A Welshman thus complaining: Was cret peete
Her shod pee' pus'd! Py taffee wass not cood,
Her leck py Cownt-men, put in shink ap Wood.
Her Shentilman ap Wales, was take creat scorn,
Her peticree was print, 'fore Prute was porn.
Was take it feree pad, ap all her Nation:

the Welshman.

Was porn a Pritan ap te told translason.
Her was ap Morgan, shinkin, tafie shile,
Was trug gret Muntaine ore, 'pove fife-score mile;

Was see her cusse, trink two pot cud ale;
Pe merree, kish her cosh: was tell a tale.
Was learn cod Englis; her put take her turn:
Shon was put ich pefore: put now her purn
Was loosse her silfar. Was her cussen true?
Was say, her was ap leiws, ap shones, ap hue;
Put her was lye. Was naty pag, pe pold;
Was make her purn pelow, her, pove was cold,
Was let her co? py shon ap Morcans sole,
Was no cod fashion put her shink in hole.

This brazen morter-peece, within the cage,
Enough to fire a Town, bites in her rage;
Yet she could gnaw the grates. At what he said
Is no whit mov'd; but laugh'd: being not afraid
Of whip, nor halter. When sh'ad chav'd her tongue,
Her humors dropt upon't. She sings a song.

A SONG.

1

Though lovers be in prison cast
Or cag'd like birds, our pleasures last,
To dresse delights, a pleasing Theme:
Which fools ne'er know but in a dream.
Fala, falare, fala falee;
Tandan, tandare, tandan tandee.

2

What though we chatter in the cold?
One night cut peece meal, brings in gold
To charm the lock; then we will flee
Beyond the Welshmans Pedigree.
Fala, &c.

3

If windbound troubles, grievings move,
We'l drown'em in a draught of love:
And Candie ev'ry lovers kisse,
To purchase magazins of blisse.
Fala &c.

4

The prick-song warblers of the Spring,
Our pleasing strains in Winter sing:
While dull breath'd fancies whine and play
Sad Lachrymæ and Weladay.
Fala &c.

5

Let gold-worms morgage ease and mirth,
To rob the bowels of the Earth:
Their Spawns will sacrifice, and cast
Those drugs to Venus at the last.
Fala &c.

6

Conserving joyes, we feel and see,
As Schedules of a Jubilee;
Make Stoicks Dumb, our Courtlike playes,
With silken credit guilt our joyes.
Fala &c.

7

Imp't, lured by the noble race:
Let Clowns that play at prison base
Be mockt from pleasures: sence will find
Though Cupid be, we are not blind.
Fala &c.

8

Fair day-light courts, as black hair'd night,
Our private hand-maid to delight.
Though we are tax'd, our love is free:
And that's the Subjects libertie.
Fala &c.

The drowsie Lethargie! which makes men crye,
Yet, Juggles laughter out, before they dye.

moral.

Sinners have running gouts; though they rejoice,
Their tone is like the hateful scritch owls voice,
Presaging death. Their language doth foretell
The doleful sounding of the passing bell
Rings pleasures to the grave. Their ill-got gain,
Like Traitors bribing dea h, whose menstroas staine
Age cannot eat away. Their conscience sits,
As Judge and Jury: while their dear-length wits
Are charg'd with treason. All their sences chain'd;
As theeves before a Sessions are arrain'd
By one another: those that there are cast,
Receive their doom, before the've sentence past.

As Daminees in half-starv'd Garrisons, are beat,
To drown complaints, when children cry for meat.
Their lusts raise tumults, reason to controul:
Or parling cheat the hunger-starved soul
With fond relief. As slaves their freedom sell
To tug with Charon's oars themselves to Hell.
And as they row, they spie upon the way
Their sins by day-light, march in battel-ray.
Where wrath's in commons, they arrive at night.
Black vengeance, feed, sequesters saucy light.