 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
A Dialogue between two Zealots, upon the Et cætera in the Oath.
Sir
Roger, from a zealous Piece of Freeze,
Rais'd to a Vicaridg of the Childrens Threes;
Whose yearly Audit may by strict account
To twenty Nobles, and his Vails amount:
Fed on the Common of the Female Charity,
Until the Scots can bring about their Parity;
So shotten, that his Soul, like to himself,
Walks but in Querpo: This same Clergy Elf,
Encountring with a Brother of the Cloth,
Fell presently to cudgels with the Oath.
The Quarrel was a strange mishapen Monster,
Et cætera (God bless us) which they conster
The Brand upon the Buttock of the Beast;
The Dragon's Tail ty'd to a Knot; a Nest
Of young Apocrypha's; the Fashion
Of a new mental Reservation.
Rais'd to a Vicaridg of the Childrens Threes;
Whose yearly Audit may by strict account
To twenty Nobles, and his Vails amount:
Fed on the Common of the Female Charity,
Until the Scots can bring about their Parity;
So shotten, that his Soul, like to himself,
Walks but in Querpo: This same Clergy Elf,
Encountring with a Brother of the Cloth,
Fell presently to cudgels with the Oath.
The Quarrel was a strange mishapen Monster,
Et cætera (God bless us) which they conster
The Brand upon the Buttock of the Beast;
The Dragon's Tail ty'd to a Knot; a Nest
19
Of a new mental Reservation.
While Roger thus divides the Text, the other
Winks and expounds; saying, My Pious Brother,
Hearken with Rev'rence; for the Point is nice,
I never read on't, but I fasted twice:
And so by Revelation know it better,
Than all the learn'd Idolaters o'th' Letter.
With that he swell'd, and fell upon the Theme,
Like great Goliah, with his Weaver's Beam.
I say to thee, Et cætera, thou ly'st,
Thou ar't the curled Lock of Antichrist.
Rubbish of Babel! for who will not say,
Tongues are confounded in Et cætera?
Who swears &c. swears more Oaths at once
Than Cerberus out of his triple Sconce.
Who views it well, with the same Eye beholds
The old false Serpent in his Num'rous Folds.
Accurst Et cætera! Now, now I scent
What the prodigious bloody Oysters meant.
O Becker! Beckeer! How cam'st thou to lack
This Friend in thy prophetick Almanack?
'Tis the dark Vault wherein the Infernal Plot
Of Powder 'gainst the State was first begot.
Peruse the Oath, and you shall soon descry it,
By all the Father Garnets that stand by it.
'Gainst whom the Church (whereof I am a Member)
Shall keep another fifth Day of November.
Yet here's not all: I cannot half untruss
Et cætera, 'tis so abdominous.
The Trojan Nag was not so fully lin'd:
Unrip Et cætera, and you shall find
Og the great Commissary, and (what's yet worse)
Th'Apparitor upon his skew-bald Horse.
Then, finally, my Babes of Grace, forbear;
Et cætera will be too far to swear:
For 'tis (to speak in a familiar stile)
A Yorkshire Weabit, longer than a Mile.
Winks and expounds; saying, My Pious Brother,
Hearken with Rev'rence; for the Point is nice,
I never read on't, but I fasted twice:
And so by Revelation know it better,
Than all the learn'd Idolaters o'th' Letter.
With that he swell'd, and fell upon the Theme,
Like great Goliah, with his Weaver's Beam.
I say to thee, Et cætera, thou ly'st,
Thou ar't the curled Lock of Antichrist.
Rubbish of Babel! for who will not say,
Tongues are confounded in Et cætera?
Who swears &c. swears more Oaths at once
Than Cerberus out of his triple Sconce.
Who views it well, with the same Eye beholds
The old false Serpent in his Num'rous Folds.
Accurst Et cætera! Now, now I scent
What the prodigious bloody Oysters meant.
O Becker! Beckeer! How cam'st thou to lack
This Friend in thy prophetick Almanack?
'Tis the dark Vault wherein the Infernal Plot
Of Powder 'gainst the State was first begot.
Peruse the Oath, and you shall soon descry it,
By all the Father Garnets that stand by it.
'Gainst whom the Church (whereof I am a Member)
Shall keep another fifth Day of November.
Yet here's not all: I cannot half untruss
Et cætera, 'tis so abdominous.
The Trojan Nag was not so fully lin'd:
Unrip Et cætera, and you shall find
Og the great Commissary, and (what's yet worse)
Th'Apparitor upon his skew-bald Horse.
Then, finally, my Babes of Grace, forbear;
Et cætera will be too far to swear:
For 'tis (to speak in a familiar stile)
A Yorkshire Weabit, longer than a Mile.
20
Here Roger was inspir'd, and by God's-Diggers,
He'd swear in Words at length, and not in Figures.
Now by this Drink, which he takes off, as loth
To leave Et cætera in his liquid Oath,
His Brother pledg'd him, and that bloody Wine,
He swears, shall seal the Synod's Catiline.
So they drunk on, not offering to part,
Till they had sworn out the eleventh Quart.
While all that saw and heard them, jointly pray,
They and their Tribe were all Et cætera.
He'd swear in Words at length, and not in Figures.
Now by this Drink, which he takes off, as loth
To leave Et cætera in his liquid Oath,
His Brother pledg'd him, and that bloody Wine,
He swears, shall seal the Synod's Catiline.
So they drunk on, not offering to part,
Till they had sworn out the eleventh Quart.
While all that saw and heard them, jointly pray,
They and their Tribe were all Et cætera.
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