University of Virginia Library

Lady Britannia, Rich of Yore,
Was grown, of late, exceeding Poor,
Who 'mong Her Neighbours in High Station
With Credit liv'd, and Reputation.
This Dame full many a Husband had,
(So Chance directs) some good, some bad.
'Tis usual sometimes to miscarry,
Where wanton Widows often marry:
This Good Wife, e're She knew Trepanners,
Had sundry Lordships, Farms, and Manors,
Jewels, and Plate; and, without Toiling,
Enough to keep the Pot a Boiling.

To fetch Her Wealth, the Merchants run
Their Annual Journey with the Sun:
For Her to Distant Regions go,
And sail as far as Winds can blow.
The God of Day the Oar refines,
Descends, and works in Indian Mines,
Lab'ring ripe Metals to produce
Both for her Ornament, and Use:
But now t' Enrich the French We roam,
And Trade Abroad, to Break at Home.

A Spouse She had, who late controul'd
Her Three Estates, grown weak, and old:
Their Ancient Covenant displeases;
He made the Tenants take New Leases.
Some Boggling at his wild Demands,
Threw up their Farms into his Hands;
For settl'd now in full Possession,
He us'd his Pow'r more, than Discretion,
And gall'd the Peasants with Oppression.

At this They call'd a Foreign Lord,
Who Title try'd by Length of Sword,
He brought a Red-Coat Posse Com,
That bully'd him from House and Home,
And threatning Ruin, War, and Battels,
Righteously seiz'd his Goods and Chattels.
The Warriour, mounted in the Saddle,
Began to lay about and swaddle:
The Old Incumbents were disgrac'd,
Some cramb'd with Oaths, and some displac'd.
Then Whigs were into Office thrust,
And fawning Mungrels took their Post:
From Him they held, but paid no Rents,
The Lands their own, and Tenements;
He was so Bountiful, their Crops
Shot high above their Wanton Hopes;
All ran in wild Pursuit of Gain,
They saw 'twas to Divide, and Reign.
This High and Mighty—Doughty Hero's
Triumphs were sung by loud Bullero's:
For He had, in Hibernian Wars,
His Shoulder kiss'd by Bloody Mars.
Long were the Broils, and Combats fought hard,
Charging 'twixt Inward Man, and Outward;
Till at the length his Spirits Force
The Body routed, by—his Horse:
So Diomedes Steeds, 'tis said,
On Human Carcases were fed;
And Bilboa Blade with Dew beslabber'd,
Fretted with Rust, eats up the Scabbard.

He hir'd th' Elements out for Pay,
And let the Sun forth by the Day.
His Vassals ne're presum'd to die,
But they bequeath'd him Legacy.
And, more to vex the Marriage-Life,
The Husband fin'd to Kiss the Wife;
Thinning the Unprolifick Nation
By Gabels laid on Generation.
Thus, by his Actions Meritorious,
He has atchiev'd the Name of Glorious.

Her last Good-Man in Flannel laid,
She prudently call'd to her Aid
A Matron train'd in Virtue's School;
Who by Obedience learn'd to Rule.
She was Sagacious, Wise, and Just,
True to her Honour, and her Trust;
So Gracious, so divinely Good,
That She ennobl'd all her Blood.
Discreet, and Unconceal'd by Art,
And wears a Gen'rous English Heart:
Born to make Civil Discord cease,
And reconcile the World to Peace.
By this Auspicious Dame defended,
She found her Fortune quickly mended.
But lately, as She pass'd the Strand,
A Fellow popt into her Hand
Quack-Bill of fam'd Ophthalmick Clark;
She read,—and found her Eyes grow dark.
So have I learn'd from Heathen Writ,
That once a Hale and Able Cit
Went in his perfect Health to Bed,
Of Maurus dream'd, and was found dead.
Darkling She went along the Street,
And justl'd all She chanc'd to meet;
Then groping onward by the Wall,
She overturn'd a Huckster's Stall,
And with it fell amidst the Ruins
Of Fritters, Codlins, and stew'd Pruins:
So after many Trips and Dodgings,
With much ado She reach'd her Lodgings.
Her Friends consulted, and agreed
To send her Maid for Doctor Read.
With her He roll'd in Coach, and Four
That pranc'd, and neigh'd before the Door.
Artfully having hemm'd a Space,
He gravely enter'd on her Case.
“Madam, (says he) Does there no Light
“Araneæ dance before your Sight?
“No Musca volans seem to fly,
“Flutt'ring the Wing before your Eye?
“But I, by closer View, observe
“Ostruction in the Optick Nerve:
“Which sore Disaster oft has brought all
“Eyes so diseas'd t' Eclipses total.
“But to proceed—and may it please ye,
“Can You account how This might seize ye?
“Sir, (She rejoin'd) This grevious Ill
“Took Me perusing Quacking Bill.
“Alas! such Cant, and senseless Jargon
“Is hurtful to this Noble Organ.
“I wonder much how You cou'd Read,
“And keep your Eye-Balls in your Head.
He then began his Emp'rick Wheedles,
His Box produc'd, and Couching Needles:
“Lady, (He cry'd) It is my Way
“Of Practice, if No Cure, No Pay.
So after Learned Exhortation,
He fell to Use and Application.
Thrice in a Day (nor did He miss it)
The Punctual Doctor paid his Visit;
Her hood-wink'd Lids He fillets o're,
And made her Blinder than before;
Daubing with Unguents, and such Tackle,
The Casements of her Tabernacle:
Amusing her with Terms of Science,
To shew more masterly Conveyance.
Early Sir Knight beat up her Quarters,
E're She had buckl'd on her Garters.
Tankard, with Tempting Liquor fraught,
And more provoking Silver wrought,
He took off—for his Morning-Draught.
Doubling his Diligence, at Noon
He din'd—on Porringer, and Spoon:
And for his Ease, at Night's Approach,
A Down-Bed flew with him in Coach.
(For He concluded it was best,
Tho' Madam cou'd not, He shou'd rest.)
The painful Leach much Labour spent,
The Doctor came,—her Substance went.
His Patient ask'd—what Time o'Day;
And straight He stole her Watch away.
She bid him Sit—the Couch and Chairs
Took silent Leave, and stole down Stairs.
From Pedestals the Statues greet him,
Pictures leapt from their Frames to meet him.
The Arras Figures bush'd with Beard,
His Awful Presence so rever'd,
At Sight of Him they disappear'd.
Obsequiously (without Attack)
Th' Obedient Locks and Bolts flew back.
Imprison'd Jewels, Rings and Lockets
Made their Escape—into his Pockets.
He fleec'd the Footmen, Grooms, and Pages,
By Large Deductions from their Wages;
Purloin'd the starving Servants Meat,
And scarcely left them Bread to Eat.
Some Moveables he claim'd of Right,
The Rest by way of Perquisite:
And, Midas-like, whate're he sees,
He turn'd to Bribes, and Golden Fees.

And now the Artist's Game was ended,
And the Good Woman's Opticks mended.
Who staring round with wild Amaze,
Cry'd “There's Enchantment in this Place;
“I once had Manteau's, Scarfs, and Hoods,
“And other Valuable Goods,
“Before this Sharper had undone me,
“By Slurring thus the Doctor on me.

At length Sir Phiz came Cringing to her;
“Madam, (says he) I've wrought the Cure,
“And, to my Deathless Reputation,
“Have finish'd all—the Operation:
“And here stand ready to be paid,
“According to Agreement made.
“Hold,—fair and softly, Good Sir Knight;
“Convince me first I have my Sight.
“To speak my Thoughts, I think my Case
“Is ten times worse than e're it was,
“For I see Nothing now; so prithee
“'Tis your Deserts,—take That too with thee:
“Yes—you have Doctor'd me—(Pox on ye)
“I've found my Eyes,—but lost my Money.

REFLEXIONS ON THE Foregoing FABLE.

Long have We groan'd beneath Disasters,
And Bondage of Ægyptian Masters,
Who'd have our Tale of Bricks kept on,
When all our Straw, and Fewel's gone.
First State-Physicians (Sage and Able,
As Operator in my Fable)
By Lulling Opiats devise
To doze the Brain, and close the Eyes.
So Mountebank's Catholick Pill,
Diseases propagates, which fill
The Doctor's Fob, and Weekly Bill.
The Nation now as blind as Beetle,
Our Salesmen scorn'd to Trade by Retale;
Who, like the Bucaneers of Greece,
The Dragon charm'd, then stole the Fleece.
They, plund'ring in outrageous Fashion,
Quickly reduc'd the Beggar'd Nation
T' an Oliverian Sequestration.
Well, cry the Mob, “but now All's past,
“And we have broke the Spell at last;
“No more in Open Day we grope on,
“God save the Queen,—our Eyes are open.
Open indeed,—but 'tis to see
Present, and Future Misery;
Our Merchants broke, Home-Trades decrease,
The Priesthood preaching against Peace,
Hereditary Right disdain'd,
The Church betray'd, Her Rites prophan'd,
Her Doctrines publickly arraign'd.
Some swallow Kingdoms, States devour,
Batt'ning in Wealth, o'regorg'd with Pow'r;
While Honest Britons that deserve
Better than They, by Thousands, starve.
So Wights, when by the Rickets curst,
One Part's by partial Nature nurst,
The others impotent, stand bent,
Dwindling for want of Nourishment:
Each Leg in Lunar Figure grows,
Nerves stretch'd to Strings, Shanks warp'd to Bows;
While Noddle which from Members stole,
Swells to a Monstrous Jobbernoll.
Thus are We Naked, Poor, and Bare
As our first Eden-Parents were,
Without a Fig-Leaf left to frame
A Cov'ring, to conceal our Shame.