Burlesque upon Burlesque Or, the Scoffer Scoft. Being some of Lucians Dialogues Newly put into English fustian. For the Consolation of those who had rather Laugh and be Merry, then be Merry and Wise [by Charles Cotton] |
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DIALOGUE.
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175
DIALOGUE.
Pan and Mercury.
Pan.Good morrow (Father!) how dost do?
Mer.
Good morrow Son, since t'must be so,
But why call'st thou me Father trow?
For to behold those goodly horns,
That py'd beard, which thy face adorns,
That single wagging at thy Butt,
Those Cambrils, and that cloven foot,
Thou do'st much more (not to dissemble)
A He-Goat, than a God resemble.
Pan.
'Tis very well! but all this while
Thou thine own Issue do'st revile,
And giv'st thy self many fowl Rubs.
Prethee what's he that gets such Cubs?
For all this handsome shape you see
Came from my Father, and thou'rt he.
Mer.
I would thou could'st perswade me to it!
But thou'lt have much ado to do it.
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If but in reverence to my breed.
But if thy happy (Sire) I am,
Who the great Devil was thy Dam?
Did I not meet with some Shee-Goat
Travested in a petticoat?
For never sure did woman bear
So uncouth a prodigious Heir.
Pan.
No (Father) I would have thee know't,
Thou did'st not couple with a Goat,
Th'ast not forgot, yet I dare say,
How once in fair Arcadia
With beastly lust, and barb'rous power,
Thou did'st a pretty Maid deflowre!
What need'st thou bite thy fingers ends,
I only speak it amongst friends?
It is Penelope I mean.
Merc.
I do remember such a Quean,
A pretty Girl: but how could she
Bring out so fowl a Beast as thee,
More like a Devil than like me?
Pan.
Nay, I'me as like my Dad, in sooth,
As he had spit me out on's mouth,
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When thou play'dst that uncivil part:
For then, if th'ast it not forgot,
Thou turnd'st thy self into a Goat
With a face fowl as any Vizor,
In policy for to surprize her.
Merc.
Yes, I remember, out upon it!
But troth I am asham'd to own it.
Pan.
Faith for the Rape I cannot blame ye;
But as for me, I shall not shame ye,
And few there are prefer'd before me:
For besides that, they do adore me
All o're Arcadia, where possest
I am of thousand Flocks at least.
My qualities have purchast Fame:
For Doctor I of Musick am,
And more have made my valour known
In the great field of Marathon,
For which good service the Athenians
Have given me a fine convenience
Wherein to sit, eat, drink, or snort,
A Grotto underneath their Fort,
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How highly I am honour'd (Father.)
Merc.
What art thou marry'd?
Pan.
No not yet,
I hitherto have had more wit.
Merc.
I wonder at it not, in truth,
For who'd have such a sweet fac't youth?
Pan.
Pish! had I nothing else to do,
(Father) I could have Wives enow,
And therefore that's a vain Objection:
But I've so amorous a Complexion,
And do with love so scald and burn,
One Wife would never serve my turn.
Merc.
Thou bugger'st then the Goats I doubt.
Pan.
Good words! no I'me not so put too't;
Eccho, and Pitys, full of blisses,
Are both content to be my Misses,
And all the Rout of Bacchanals,
Come with a powder when Pan calls.
By which (good Father) you may know
I better spend my time than so.
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Believ't they'r wond'rous kind to thee,
And 'tis no wonder though they be,
Th'ast such a charming Phisnomy.
But I have a request unto thee
Will do me good, and no harm do thee,
It is so small; which is, that seeing
I was so blest to give thee being,
Thou in return wilt be so civil
As not to pay my good with evil,
But wheresoe're we chance to meet
In house, or field, or in the street,
So oft as we shall come together
Thou do forbear to call me Father;
For not to mince the verity,
I'me damnably asham'd of thee:
But for this once shake hands and part,
And so farewel with all my heart.
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