University of Virginia Library

At Five this Morne, when Phœbus raisd his head,
From Thetis Lapp, I rais'd my self from Bed;
And mounting Steed, I trotted to the Waters,
The Rendevouz of Fooles, Buffoones, and Praters,
Cuckolds, Whores, Cittizens, their Wives and Daughters.
My Squeamish Stomach, I with Wine had brib'd,
To undertake the Dose, it was prescrib'd.
But turning head, a sudden cursed view,
That innocent provision overthrew,
And without drinking made me Purge, and Spew.

From Coach, and Six, a thing unweildy Roll'd,
Whose Lumber, Cart, more decently wou'd hold;
As wise as Calf it look'd, as bigg as Bully,
But handl'd proves a meere Sir Nich'las Cully:
A Bawling Fopp, a Nat'rall Nokes, and yet
He dares to censure, as if he had Witt:
To make him more rediculous in spight,
Nature, contriv'd the Fool shou'd be a Knight.
Grant yee unlucky Starrs, this ore'growne Boy,
To purchase some inspireing pretty Toy,
That may his want of Sense, and Witt supply,
As Buxome Crabb-fish, do his Lechery:
Tho' he alone, were dismall sight enough,
His Traine contributed to set him off,
All of his Shape, all of the self same stuffe:
Noe Spleene, or Malice, need on them be throwne,
Nature, has done the Bus'nesse of Lampoone,
And in their lookes, their Characters has showne.
[Thrice blest be he, who Dildoe did invent!
To ramm the Neigb'ring hole to Fundament;
Which may be lengthen'd, thicken'd, in its measure,
And us'd at Lech'rous ugly Trullas pleasure:
For ne're was Bulke, or Stomach giv'n to Tarses,
Either to fill, or swell, such Foggy Arses.]
Endeavouring this irksome sight to Balke,
And a more irksome noyse, their silly talke,
I silently slunke downe, to th'lower Walke:
But often, when one wou'd Caribdis shun,
Downe upon Scilla, 'tis ones Fate to run:
For here, it was my cursed luck to find,
As greate a Fopp, tho' of another kind.
A Tall, stiffe Foole, that walkt in Spanish guise,
The Buckram Puppet, never stirr'd its Eyes;
But grave as Owle it look'd, as Wood-Cock wise.
He scornes the empty talking of this Mad-Age,
And speakes all Proverbs, Sentences, and Adage;
Can with as much solemnity, buy Eggs,
As a Caball, can talke of their Intrigues.
Master of Ceremony; yet can dispence,
With the formality of talking Sence.

From hence, unto the upper end I ran,
Where a new Scene of Foppery began.
A Tribe of Curates, Priests, Canonicall Elves,
(Fit Company for none besides themselves)
Were got together; each his distemper told,
Scurvy, Stone, Strangury: some were soe bold,
To charge the Spleene to be their misery,
And on that wise Disease, brought Infamy.
But none had Modesty enough to 'plaine,
Their want of Learning, Honesty, and Braine,
The generall Diseases of that Traine:
These call themselves Ambassadors of Heav'n,
And sawcily pretend Commissions giv'n;
But shou'd an Indian King, whose small Command
Seldome extends beyond Ten Miles of Land;
Send forth such wretched Tooles in an Ambassage
He'd find but small Effects of such a Message.
Listning I found the Cobb of all this Rabble
Pert Bayes, with his Importance Comfortable:
He being rais'd to an Arch-Deaconry,
By trampling on Religion, Liberty;
Was growne too great, and look'd too fat and Jolly,
To be disturb'd with care, and Melancholly,
Tho' Marvell has enough, expos'd his Folly.
He dranke to carry off some old remaines,
His Lazy dull distemper, left in's Veines:
Let him drinke on, but 'tis not a whole Flood,
Can give sufficient sweetnesse to his blood,
To make his Nature, or his Manners good.
Importance dranke too, tho' she'd beene noe Sinner
To wash away some Dreggs, he had spewd in her.

Next after these, a fulsome Irish Crew,
Of silly Macs were offer'd to my view;
The things did talke, but th'hearing what they said,
I did my self the kindnesse to evade:
Nature, hath plac'd these Wretches beneath Scorne,
They can't be call'd soe vile, as they are borne.
Amidst the Croud, next I my self convey'd,
For now were come (White-wash, and Paint being laid)
Mother, and Daughter, Mistresse and the Maid;
And Squire with Wigg, and Pantaloone, display'd.
But ne're cou'd Conventickle, Play, or Fair,
For a true Medley, with this Herd compare.
Here Lords, Knights, Squires, Ladys, and Countesses,
Chandlers, Mum-Bacon-Women, Sempstresses,
Were mixt together; nor did they agree,
More in their Humours, than their Quality.
Here waiting for Gallant, young Damsell stood,
Leaning on Cane, and muffled up in Hood:
The Woud-be-Witt, whose bus'nesse was to Wooe,
With Hatt, remov'd, and Solemn Scrape of Shooe,
Advanceth bowing, then gentiley shruggs,
And ruffled Foretop, into Order tuggs.
And thus Accosts her:—Madam methinkes the Weather
Is growne much more Serene, since you came hither:
You Influence the Heav'ns—but shou'd the Sun,
Withdraw himself to see his Rayes outdone
By your bright Eyes; they wou'd supply the Morne
And make a Day, before the Day be borne.
With Mouth screwd up, conceited winking Eyes,
And Breasts thrust forward—Lord Sir (she replyes)
It is your goodnesse, and not my Deserts
Which makes you Shew, this Learning, Witt, and Parts.
He puzled, bites his Naile, both to display,
The sparkling Ring, and thinke what next to say.
And thus breakes forth a fresh: Madam, Egad
Your luck at Cards last Night, was very bad;
At Cribbidge, Fifty Nyne, and the next show
To make the Game; and yet to want those Two.
Gad-Damme Madam, I'm the Son of a Whore
If in my life, I saw the like before.
To Pedlars Stall he draggs her, and her Breast
With Hearts, and such like foolish toyes he drest;
And then more smartly to expound the Riddle
Of all his prattle, gives her a Scotch Fiddle.
Tir'd with this dismall Stuffe, away I ran,
Where were Two Wives, with Girle just fit for Man;
Short-breath'd, with pallid Lipps, and Vissage wan.
Some Curt'sies past, and the Old Complement
Of being glad to see each other spent;
With hand, in hand, they loveingly did walke
And one began thus to renew the talke.
I pray, good Madam, if it may be thought,
Noe rudenesse, what cause was it hither brought
Your Ladyshipp? She soone replying, smild,
Wee have a good Estate, but have noe Child;
And I'm inform'd these Wells, will make a Barren
Woman, as fruitfull as a Coney-Warren.
The first return'd—For this cause I am come
For I can have, noe quietnesse at home,
My Husband grumbles tho' wee have got one,
This poor young Girle, and mutters for a Son;
And this griev'd with Head-Ach pangs, and Throwes,
Is full Sixteene, and never yet had those.
She soone reply'd.—Get her a Husband Madam,
I Marry'd at that Age, and ne're had had 'em:
Was just like her; Steele-Waters, let alone,
A Back of Steele, will bring 'em better downe.
And Tenn to one but they themselves will try
The same meanes, to encrease their Family.
Poor foolish Fribble,—who by Subtlety
Of Mid-Wife, truest Friend to Letchery,
Perswaded Art, to be at paines, and charge,
To give thy Wife occasion to enlarge
Thy silly head! For here walke Cuffe, and Kick,
With Brawney Back, and Leggs, and potent Prick.
Who more substantially will cure thy Wife,
And on her half-dead Womb, bestowe new life.
From these, the Waters got the Reputation,
Of good Assistants unto Generation.
Some Warr-like Men were now got into th'throng
With Hair ty'd back, singing a Bawdy-Song.
Not much afraid, I got a nearer view,
And 'twas my chance to know the dreadfull Crew.
They were Cadets, that seldome can appeare
Damn'd to the Stint of Thirty Pounds a yeare;
With Hawke on Fist, or Grey-Hound led in hand,
The Doggs, and Foot-Boys, sometimes they Command;
But now haveing trimmd a Cast of Spavin'd Horse,
With Three hard-pincht-for-Guineys in the Purse,
Two Rusty Pistolls, Scarfe about the Arse
Coat, lin'd with Red, they here presume to swell
This goes for Captaine, that for Collonell;
Soe the Beare-Garden Ape on his Steed mounted,
Noe longer is a Jackanapes accounted;
But is by virtue of his Trump'rie then
Call'd by the Name of the Young Gentleman.
Blesse me thought I, what thing is Man that thus
In all his shapes, he is rediculous?
Our selves, with noyse of Reason wee doe please
In vaine: Humanity is our worst Disease.
Thrice happy Beasts are, who because they be
Of Reason voyd are soe of Foppery;
Faith I was soe asham'd that with remorse,
I us'd the Insolence to mount my Horse;
For he doeing only things fit for his Nature,
Did seeme to me by much the wiser Creature.