University of Virginia Library

A Satyre.

Away with Plays, and Sonnets! I will write
A dreadless Satyre shall the town affright,
And make the Gallants curse and swear that he
Meant this by him, and this he meant by me.
I will spare none, but warn; that each man learns
(When he applies) to minde whom it concerns.
But heark! I hear a friend: Away! And do
Not such a thing; It should not come from you:
Let needy Poets that cannot sell their Plays
Exclaim (out of their want) against the days;
Or (whom a Lord for Dedication ows)
Tax him with all his faults, a way each knows;
Or let a despis'd Lover (whom of late
His Mistress for his verses jeer'd) go prate,
Tell how she paintes, who are her Bawds, & which
Of the young Courtiers comes to ease her Itch;
But not a man of our own ranke disclose,
What either he by his experience knowes,
Or from his friendes relation; In this time
Not to perform but to be seen's a Crime:
And there are many do grow worse when they
See vice reveal'd, cause then they know the way.
This cannot serve: I will unlode my spleen,
And spare no ulcers be they old or green.
Methinks I hear one speak; Sir, do your worst,
We shall not be the last, nor are the first
That have by Paper-blurrers been defam'd,
And (when y'ave done) we will proceed unsham'd.
I did believe as much, but I will on
Onely for my own recreation.
Ask but a Chamber-maid (which are the froth
Of vain discourse) what her young Lady doth;
And she will certifie you of each change
Her humour hath, and every subtile range
Her strange unbridled passions lead her to;
How she complains her Knight is grown untrue
Unto his vows and her, and therefore she
Seeks Pastimes to divert her Melancholie;
Frequents the Theatres, Hide-Park, or els talkes
Away her pretious time in Gray's Inn Walkes;
Layes out what she can spare (to win his heart
By any means) for the last helps of art;
And vowes (if nothing in her power lyes
To gain him) she'l no longer be unwise,
And spend her flourishing days in solitude,
Unfit, and unagreeing with her blood;
That there's a Gallant Courtier, young, and rich
In Natures perfectest Endowments, which
She yet hath slighted much; but now (tis thought)
She will requite her Husband, and be naught.
O Feminine Revenge! to brand her Name,
With Infamy, and Family with shame!
Nor is this all her News: She can discover
Whom the old Knights daughter hath made her lover;
That she dotes on him so, she cannot keep
Her tongue from naming him though in her sleep;
That she would fain be married, for the awe
She bears unto an unkind Mother in law;
How he's a younger brother, and doth lack
Silver in's purse though ha's enough on's back.
O vanity of times! Secrets that shoo'd
Be lock'd within's fast as our bosomes blood,
And faults that should be mended, and not known
(By such like means) common discours are grown:
Some will be censuring things that are above
Their way, because such things they do not love;
Sir, out of love unto you I am come
To certifie you, you give cause to some
To laugh at you; y'ave writ a Play, and they
Say tis a shame for you to write a Play:
Besides you Poetry so much affect,
That you the better Sciences neglect.
O thou sweet Charmer of the Soul! Why should
This Iron age so meanly of thee hold?
Hast thou mov'd salvage beasts, and rocks, & trees,
And canst not win upon the hearts of These!
Enjoy your earthen thoughts: minds full of fire
Can never grovel, but do all aspire.
Madam! Tis true I've writ some Plays, and wood
I had the happiness to call them good,
I would be proud on't: for my love unto
The Muses, I will ever love them so;
And though some think't a fault, I know it none;
There is no poyson grows on Helicon.
You are resolv'd: but I do think it fit
That you on better things emploid your wit;
And so I leave you. Madam, Fare you well;
And what I've said, unto my Laughers tell.
Mend your own faults: be not so proud of your
One portion, as if no body had more;
And when that you have Suitors, do not scare
Them away with looks like th'angry God of war.
But I must leave her: For I see another
That for her wit may call my Madam mother.
She is a young one, lately married to
A Lord: Now let us see what she will do.
Sir, I am glad to see you; Madam I
Rejoyce to hear of your good fortune; why?
You have a noble and rich husband; So
I did deserve for what I brought you know.
Were I but such a man I would not wed
So low, and rather keep a single bed.
I am an Hogen Mogens daughter; good,
You may boast of your wealth, not of your blood.
Of my Husband I may. Indeed tis true;
But he was much to blame to marry you:
Sir, you do wrong me much: and I do pray
To me you would not dedicate a Play,
I scorn to own such Trifles; I did hear
'Twas your Intent, which if it was, forbear:
A Poet once of your acquaintance did,
But for his sawciness he was well chid.
Madam know this, I do not write for gain,
My pleasure is the Guerdon of my pain;
And never with one mean to trouble you,
Though it were acted in a publick Stew.
I know the Poet you spoke of, and know
It was his want that forc'd him thereunto;
He knew you was unfit for't, and that scant
Could understand a Scene so ignorant.
Therefore learn this; The rich the poor do praise,
Not for their merits, but their stock to raise:
And tis no doubt but he did give you high
Titles of worth, yet knew himself did lye.
Take your unpay'd for Coach, and to Hide-Park,
And (Madam) when the Cuckow sings, pray heark;
It is a musick you can manage; or send
For a Croud of Fidlers and their skill commend;
Know, that for you tis an impossible thing
The hear the sweet and solemn Muses sing:
An earthen minde hath earthen thoughts, and they
That noble Souls have noble things survey.
Madam adieu! Think of me what you will,
Of your Opinion I am careless still.
Whether this Lady angry be or no
I do not care at all; So let her go.
Go into Gray's Inn Walks, and you shall see
Matter for Satyres in each Companie;
This Lady comes to show her new fine Gown,
And this to see the Gallants of the town.
Most part of Gentlemen thither repair,
To censure who is foul, and who is fair.
Yon Lady in th'red Sattin looks so pale,
That either she hath th'Green-sickness, or is stale.
She in the Hat and Feather looks so like
An Amazonian Tosser of a Pike,
She's fit for a fiery Captain: yon's a face
Pretty and beautiful at the first Gaze;
But view it seriously, and it is slight.
What an old womans that with a young Knight?
Sure tis his Grand-mother, or great Aunt; alas!
He had much rather a walk'd with a young Lass.
O, says a young Lady to her brother, when
Did you see so complete a Gentleman?
Has he not curious legs? fine curled hair?
How well the Suite is made that he doth wear!
I would my Husband were so handsome: So
He is her brother swears, but she sighs no.
Yon Gallant's gate is like unto a Dance,
Sure he's return'd but newly out of France;
Yon's like a fools or clowns, I know not whether,
And (if h'as any wit) hee'l soon go thither,
Says a Lady to her husband: He replide,
See how that woman walks! with what a pride,
She very lately was a City-wife
But now a Lord o'th Court hath chang'd her life:
Her Husband being dead, and she left rich,
She for a title of more height did itch;
Which her good fortune got her: In her own
Conceit she is the onely happy one;
She thinks her Husband loves her, and I dare
Be sworn that he for her doth nothing care.
When he at night comes in, towards him she trips,
And he must kiss her though he lothe her lips,
Which out of his affection he doth doe,
She thinks, but I have told you what is true.
Vain, windy honour! what a sought for thing!
'Twill make a Kettle have a silver ring.
Survey a Tavern; Not a Room but will
Deserve a Satyre, they are all so ill.
Here is a Gentleman that hath a smack
Of riming with a Poet at his back,
And half a dozen of his drunken friends,
Who doth adopt him son for what he spends;
Praises his Poems for the best that were
(Since Hengist time) writ in the English aire:
And (For 'tis vain to go to Delphos now
For Oracles) Son! read my lines, and thou
(Cryes he) wilt say Apollo never coo'd
(God of the sacred Muses) write as good.
He swears as many oathes as he repeates
Verses, then calls for the dear'st Fowl, and eates,
Beg's mony when the reckning's paid, and so
(Having fil'd his Tobacco-box) doth go.
Another chamber view, and you may find
Gentlemen staggering with wine as wind;
See healths drunk round & round; To her that lies
By Suffolk-house, and hath the fine blackeies;
Unto whose Lodgings he dares not repair,
Because she will not marry but an Heir;
To the rich Lady Widow that did invite
Him kindly unto supper yesternight,
Who (though his means be smal, her joynture great)
Without his company can eat no meat;
To the rich Citizens daughter (gallant Girle!)
The last Mask full of Diamonds and Pearle.
Were you within the next Room, you might see
A Gentleman with a great Companie
Of miscal'd Captains, and Rorers that think
Oathes (Sugar-like) sweeten each Glass they drink;
A pretious Engle! Hug'd over, and over, and styl'd
An hopeful spark, or they are all beguil'd;
The Table full of Pottles, Pintes, and Quartes,
And they a humouring him with some old parts
Of the last Coranto's, or perhaps some thing
Of Note, perform'd by the late Sweden King.
They call for what they list, meaning that he
Shall pay the reck'ning for th'whole Companie;
Which when he hath, theysteal what plate they can
Finger, and part, and laugh at th'idle man.
I'le not go up two pair of stairs, yet there
Could be Satyrical as well as end here.
And now I send, desiring those that know
Themselves touch'd in these lines away to goe
Silent, and mend; For every thing is true:
And though I neither do name him, nor you,
Believ't if I could & that I would. But (faith!)
Would you not be revenged? Do; Show your wrath,
Of me go and write Satyres, for (I know it)
My faults will serve although you are no Poet.