The Character of a Covetous Citizen or, A Ready Way to get Riches. A Poem [by Edward Ward] |
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| IV. | CANTO IV. |
 | The Character of a Covetous Citizen |  |
CANTO IV.
Now Old, his Conscience to himself looks black,
And Pain and Sorrow bend his Aged Back.
Decay in ev'ry feeble Limb appears,
Whilst he bemoans the number of his Years.
He Sighs, and does, with wishful Eyes, behold
His Piles of Silver, and vast Sums of Gold:
But with an anxious Breast, and troubled Thought,
Groaning, remembers how 'twas basely got.
The Curses of old Age, the Gout and Stone,
Torment the Wretch for the past Ills he'as done.
Who for sweet Ease sollicits Heav'n in vain,
And grows almost a Christian thro' his Pain.
Still greater Mis'ries ev'ry Hour accrue,
And the pale Foe draws nearer to his view:
His Nerves grow weak, and his Distempers strong,
His Intervals more short, his Pains more long,
His fleshy Sides from City Banquets drawn,
He finds consum'd into a Skeleton.
His Appetite is gone, his Breath grown short,
And all his lively Thoughts turn'd al-a-mort.
Thus in these Conflicts he begins to Rave,
Devided 'twixt his Treasure and the Grave:
And Pain and Sorrow bend his Aged Back.
Decay in ev'ry feeble Limb appears,
Whilst he bemoans the number of his Years.
He Sighs, and does, with wishful Eyes, behold
His Piles of Silver, and vast Sums of Gold:
But with an anxious Breast, and troubled Thought,
Groaning, remembers how 'twas basely got.
The Curses of old Age, the Gout and Stone,
Torment the Wretch for the past Ills he'as done.
Who for sweet Ease sollicits Heav'n in vain,
And grows almost a Christian thro' his Pain.
Still greater Mis'ries ev'ry Hour accrue,
And the pale Foe draws nearer to his view:
His Nerves grow weak, and his Distempers strong,
His Intervals more short, his Pains more long,
His fleshy Sides from City Banquets drawn,
He finds consum'd into a Skeleton.
His Appetite is gone, his Breath grown short,
And all his lively Thoughts turn'd al-a-mort.
Thus in these Conflicts he begins to Rave,
Devided 'twixt his Treasure and the Grave:
Have I my Life in Care and Slav'ry spent,
And all my restless Thoughts t'wards Riches bent!
Where's my Physician? let him ease my Cough,
And give me strength, he shall have Gold enough.
Will nothing help me in my painful Fits?
Physick and Riches both, alas, are Cheats!
But shou'd I die, O how shall I attone,
For all the Ills and Knav'ries I have done!
To those I've wrong'd, what Measures shall I take,
To own my Guilt, and Restitution make?
Many, alas, are Strangers, others dead;
Some Broke, and into distant Regions fled!
No, 'tis impossible, (the more's my Woe)
To those I've injur'd, I should Justice do!
There is but one way left, as I conceive,
My Soul from threat'ning Vengeance to retrieve;
I must my Ill-got Wealth to Pious uses leave.
Send for the Scriv'ner, Oh! it breaks my Heart,
Alas, dear Gold, that thee and I must part.
And all my restless Thoughts t'wards Riches bent!
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And give me strength, he shall have Gold enough.
Will nothing help me in my painful Fits?
Physick and Riches both, alas, are Cheats!
But shou'd I die, O how shall I attone,
For all the Ills and Knav'ries I have done!
To those I've wrong'd, what Measures shall I take,
To own my Guilt, and Restitution make?
Many, alas, are Strangers, others dead;
Some Broke, and into distant Regions fled!
No, 'tis impossible, (the more's my Woe)
To those I've injur'd, I should Justice do!
There is but one way left, as I conceive,
My Soul from threat'ning Vengeance to retrieve;
I must my Ill-got Wealth to Pious uses leave.
Send for the Scriv'ner, Oh! it breaks my Heart,
Alas, dear Gold, that thee and I must part.
The Scribe approaches, arm'd with pointed Quill,
Bows, Lies, and says, he's sorry he's so Ill.
After some Talk, does all his Tools provide,
Draws near the dying Penitent's Bed-side,
Takes his last Testament by slow degrees,
The Heads and Purport being chiefly these.
Bows, Lies, and says, he's sorry he's so Ill.
After some Talk, does all his Tools provide,
Draws near the dying Penitent's Bed-side,
Takes his last Testament by slow degrees,
The Heads and Purport being chiefly these.
Imprimis, I bequeath Five hundred Pound,
To buy, near London, such a Lay-stale Ground.
To buy, near London, such a Lay-stale Ground.
Item, Two Thousand Pounds I do allot,
To build an Alms-house on th'aforesaid Spot;
Contriv'd commodiously to entertain,
Twenty Old Women, and as many Men.
To build an Alms-house on th'aforesaid Spot;
Contriv'd commodiously to entertain,
Twenty Old Women, and as many Men.
Item, Ten Thousand Pounds I give, which shall,
Endow my House of Charity withal:
Blue Gowns, Shifts, Coals, and Candles to provide,
And every one a Groat a Day beside.
Endow my House of Charity withal:
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And every one a Groat a Day beside.
Item, Five hundred Pounds, with good intent,
I give to beautifie the Monument.
And that the Mad Folks may be kept more neat,
Five hundred more to make new Bedlam sweet.
I give to beautifie the Monument.
And that the Mad Folks may be kept more neat,
Five hundred more to make new Bedlam sweet.
Item, Two thousand Pounds, with good design,
I do bequeath, to make Paul's work more fine.
I do bequeath, to make Paul's work more fine.
Item, To th'Blue-Coat Hospital I give,
Two hundred Pounds, that my good Name may live,
And place amongst their Benefactors have.
Hoping their Boys will sing me to my Grave.
Two hundred Pounds, that my good Name may live,
And place amongst their Benefactors have.
Hoping their Boys will sing me to my Grave.
Item, Ten Pounds I order to be paid,
To each Man Servant, Twenty to my Maid,
For the great Care she'as in my Sickness shown,
And other Reasons to my self best known.
To each Man Servant, Twenty to my Maid,
For the great Care she'as in my Sickness shown,
And other Reasons to my self best known.
Item, Three hundred Pounds I freely give
Amongst the Poor, within the Ward I live.
A Gown and Cassock to the Parish-Priest,
For his kind Promise of eternal Rest.
Amongst the Poor, within the Ward I live.
A Gown and Cassock to the Parish-Priest,
For his kind Promise of eternal Rest.
A—B—C—D—Exec'tors I appoint,
Of this my Last and only Testament,
That they with all exactness may fulfil,
Each part and Clause of this my dying Will.
Of this my Last and only Testament,
That they with all exactness may fulfil,
Each part and Clause of this my dying Will.
When Hand and Seal has giv'n it lawful force,
Next Day he changes, and becomes much worse.
Too weak to stir, he raves upon his Back,
Death why so pale, and Conscience why so black.
Where am I going? Prithee Nurse more Air,
Methinks I'm sinking down the Lord knows where,
He gasps and stretches, strives, but cannot rise,
Then ruttles in the Throat, and rowls his Eyes,
Thus leaves his ill-got-Treasure, and dispairing dies.
Next Day he changes, and becomes much worse.
Too weak to stir, he raves upon his Back,
Death why so pale, and Conscience why so black.
Where am I going? Prithee Nurse more Air,
Methinks I'm sinking down the Lord knows where,
He gasps and stretches, strives, but cannot rise,
Then ruttles in the Throat, and rowls his Eyes,
Thus leaves his ill-got-Treasure, and dispairing dies.
| The Character of a Covetous Citizen | |