University of Virginia Library

A true and full Account of a late Conference between the wonderful Speaking-Head and Father Pulton,

as it was related by the Heads own Mouth to Dr. F---r, 1686.

I that was once an humble Logg,
The pissing Post for every Rogue;
And did hope for nothing higher,
Than to grace a Christmass Fire,
From th'Element escaped hard,
By th'Favour of F***et Shepherd;

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171

VVho, being a Friend to Mathematicks,
Do's for Virtuoso's lay Tricks;
Did procure a Man of Art,
That gave me Voice Articulate,
Taught me Tongues the most difficile,
To sing Sawney, Laugh and VVhistle.
Follow'd now by Court and City,
I confound with my strange Ditty,
Both the Learned and the VVitty:
And make all the Talk at Betty's,
By the help of my Friend P---s.
For you VVits were always good
To the Family of VVood,
And before kept such a puther
VVith the Groaning Board my Brother,
Some Men think you know our Mother.
And I hope both you and they Sir,
VVill favour me sweet Dr. F---r,
To help me out but with one Jest;
Let me alone for all the rest;
For my wondrous Voices sound,
Is much admir'd by the Beau Mond,
VVho to me pay more Devotion
Than to pretty Punches Motion.
Many a Lady bright and fine
Lays her Cherry Lips to mine,
And without offence I smack her
Till I rub off all my Lacker;
VVith that Sex I more prevail
Than any Head that wants a Tail.
The King to Court sent for my Timber
As kind as if I had been a Member,
And found me an obedient Head
That did agree to all he said;

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172

Which being strange, pleas'd him so much,
He wish'd that all the House were such;
And 'twould much advance his Cause,
If such Noddles could make Laws.
This indeed's a mighty Comfort,
But, alas! I am paid home for't.
Busie Priests with their Disputing,
Reasoning, Arguing, and Confuting,
Who with Charms Ecclesiastick,
Can make good Catholick of a Stick:
Do torment and plague me more
Than without Ears I ever bore;
May I be a Logg again,
To avoid their Noisy Train.
Pulton t'other Night did come,
(If I Lie, may I be Dumb,
Or may a Plague I wish my Foes,
Will R***s blow into my Nose,)
And brought a Letter sign'd S. Petre,
That he'd privately Confer with me.
I at the Challenge did not flinch,
But bid him sit down on my Bench;
And since he had so good a Warrant,
Blow in my Mouth, and tell his Errand.
Says he, I Missionary come,
Ad Partes Infidelium;
For your Faith cannot be good,
That springs from Shepherds and hard Wood:
I to all Blockheads am the Legate,
And gain some in spight of Clegat.
They alone our Business must do,
Who han't a grain of Sense to trust to.

'Tis not my Province to Confute
Those that think and can Dispute;

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173

And here we need not such Expences,
Since our Nation suits our Senses.
Nothing is so apt and fit
For our Doctrine, as your Wit,
And he is most our Enemy
Who is most removed from thee.
Oh! happy Off-spring of the Maple,
To praise thee enough I am not able.
Oh! what comfort dost thou show Men
In thy lucky Faces Omen?
Times will come again, I see,
When England shall adore a Tree;
When Oracles old Poets shall utter,
Wafers bleed, and Flints sweat Butter.
If in Mother Church you stood,
You'd do Wonders like the Rood;
In her Sacred Bosom foster'd,
What might we hope from such a Costard;
For you might convert the Nation,
Since you speak by Inspiration.