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State Tracts

Containing Many Necessary Observations and Reflections on the State of our Affairs at Home and Abroad; With some Secret Memoirs. By the Author of the Examiner [i.e. William Oldisworth]

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ON TUNBRIDGE-WELLS, A LAMPOON.
  
  
  
  
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119

ON TUNBRIDGE-WELLS, A LAMPOON.

Not many Miles from Tunbridge Town
Are Waters found of great Renown,
Which rising in a dirty Vale,
By dirty Naiads are set to Sale.
Here formal worthless Querpo Plies,
Extorting Fees for wrong Advice;
Who drauling says, this Spring is good,
T'invigorate and cleanse the Blood:
That it surely cures the Cholick,
And makes the vap'ry Ladies Frolick;
That it's for the Scurvy a Specifick,
And makes unteeming Dames Prolifick;

120

Tho' a Gallant for that sad Ill,
Might prove a surer Cure than Steel.
Hither well-fletch'd Cullies come,
Are stript, and so march naked home;
The under Beaux come here to spark it,
And Maids forlorn to make their Market.
The Widow comes to drink the Water
For Grief and Spleen when't's no such Matter,
Another Husband's th'only Cure,
For the Sorrow Relicts do endure.
The hung'ry Sharper flies down hither
Some fair plum'd Bubble to unfeather,
He Palms and Coggs, and with false Lewis,
Pays what the upright Gamster's due is.
The Dotard comes to his last Stage,
Drinks Water to renew his Age,
While his Spouse of younger date,
Prays Heaven it may conclude his Fate.

121

Dorinda here for Wit and Fire
And Satyr keen beyond her Sire,
Had made sad Work, but that her Spouse,
At ev'ry Jest wou'd knit his Brows.
Frettina next begot by Jove,
Rivals for Shape the Queen of Love;
Hither she did for Stoppage come,
But carried her Obstructions Home.
Sprightly Calebrus wou'd do better
For her Disease than Tunbridge Water,
He poor Swain has hardly spoke,
Since she th'unhappy Place forsook.
Babilla too of ancient Merit,
Comes down for Poverty of Spirit,
Tho' Heaven be prais'd her Tongue affords,
A fair fæcundity of Words;
Tho' Old as Lud she's Young in Thought,
And tho' she always talkes says nought.

122

Griza half skill'd in Analytick,
Affects to be a female Critick,
Who like the Bat forsakes her kind,
And tires the Men t'improve her Mind;
She crowds among the Beaux Esprits
And half of what she learns forgets;
The other half being not precise,
'Tis Ten to one she misapplies.
Rampana of Gigantick Strain,
Unweildy like Leviathan,
If tapt wou'd yield as much Train Oyl,
As any monstrous Green-land Whale;
With sullen Air along she walks,
Th'half animated Mountain Stalks;
The trembling Pavement with regret,
Bears up against the lumpish Weight.
Bounce makes Love in Terms of War,
He Frights with dreadful Sounds the Fair,
He does the Dippers entertain
With fine Thoughts out of Harlequin,

123

Five Thousand Times he calls to Starch,
To bid the Haut-Bois play his March;
The nimble Boy performs his Trust
And straight again comes back to's Post,
To which I think he is Three Inches scarce
On pain of Death from Bounces A---
The Page must there attend for fear
The meen shou'd not the Lord declare.
He Dances like a founder'd Horse,
And yet at Politicks he's worse,
But worst of all at writing Verse;
The Heroes of inferior Name,
I leave to Cawdry to Proclaim;
The City Nymphs and Country Dames
Will take it ill to miss their Names,
It is a gross Affront I own
To be excluded a Lampoon;
But they'll excuse me when they hear,
That an ungainly awkard Air
Wont furnish out a Character.