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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.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

DIALOGUE.

Vulcan, Mercury, and Prometheus.

Merc.
So now to Caucasus w'are got,
Come Vulcan, let us look about
For some good Rock, where we may fall
To nayling fast the Criminal.
'Tis more than time that we had done it:
But let's choose one has no Snow on it,
That of both Manacle and Gieve
The Nayls we to the head may drive.

3

And one that also on each side
Does open lye to be descry'd,
That Passengers may be aware on't,
And the Rogue's shame the more apparent.

Vulcan.
Content, but we must nayl him so,
That he may neither hang so low,
That Mortals soon as they shall spy him
May presently come and untie him;
Nor must we fasten him so high,
As to be out of reach of eye,
The torment then would be unknown,
That's meant an exemplary one.
Therefore be rul'd by my advice,
Wee'l hang him on this Precipice
I'th' middle of the Mountain there,
Chaining one hand to this Rock here,
T'other to that that's opposite,
And there he will hang fair in sight,
Where friend and foe at ease may view him,
But the grand Devil can't get to him.

Mercury.
I like thy Reasons wondrous well,
They both are inaccessible.

4

Come (Sir Prometheus) if you please,
And mount a step for your own ease;
Nay, never hang an Arse for th'matter,
It is in vain to cog and flatter:
Come on I say, and ne're draw back for't,
Or those large luggs of yours will crack for't;
Why when I say! come mount apace
And hang man with a handsome grace.

Promet.
Hale me not prethee on this fashion:
But take some small commiseration
Upon a pauvre Diable,
Unjustly made thus miserable.

Merc.
What! I believe thou art so kind
(Thou bear'st a very loving mind)
To have us truss't up in thy room
For disobeying great Jove's Doom!
Do'st think this Caucasus to be
Too little to hold all us Three;
Or would it comfort be to thee
T'have fellows in thy misery!
Your Servant Sir, we thank you kindly,
And in return we mean to bind yee,
Where any friend you have may find yee.

5

Come (Sir) your right hand; Vulcan drive:
Well driven as I hope to live!
Such things I see thou hast an art in,
That hand I warrant's fast for starting.
Come (Sir) your left; here strike again,
And drive this home with might and main.
Ha! ha! old smutty face, well sed,
Th'ast hit the nayl (I faith) o'th' head.
Here, here, now take me this right legg,
And drive me here another pegg.
Well said! here make me this fast too,
And then there is no more to do.
'Slid, thou hast done it to a hair:
So, now (Sir) you may take the Air,
And may contemplate all alone;
The Vulture will come down anon
To prey upon your Entrals Don,
A recompence a worthy one,
For your most sine invention.

Promet.
O gentle mother Earth that bore me,
And in thy throes didst loud groan for me!
Thou Saturn and Japetus too,
Alass the day, what shall I do.

6

What! must I undergoe this wo-thing,
And suffer thus for doing nothing.

Merc.
No, call'st it nothing (wicked Beast)
To cheat great Jove at a great Feast!
To give him bones (a trick that new is)
Smear'd over with a little Brewis,
And keep the best o'th' meat (forsooth)
For your own Worships dainty tooth!
Besides, I wonder much (Wise-aker)
Who 'twas that made you a Man-maker,
That subtle crafty Animal!
And Woman too the worst of all!
And then to steal the fire from Heaven
Which only to the Gods was given,
And that they prize above all measure
Much more then all their other treasure!
After all which hast thou a face
So varnish't, nay so vaump't with brass;
Or rather steel'd with impudence,
To preach to us thy innocence!
And to complain thou hast wrong done thee!
Thou wicked Rogue, now out upon thee!


7

Promet.
Hast thou the stony heart to rate
And use me thus in this estate?
And to reproach me for things here,
For which, by all the Gods I swear,
And all of them to witness call,
That dine and sup in Jove's fair Hall,
I deserve, rather than this Doom,
A pension i'th'

The Exchequer of Athens.

Prytoneum.

And if thou would'st but give me leisure,
In sadness, I could take a pleasure
(For all I know, thou much do'st glory
In thy renowned Oratory)
Now with thee to dispute the case,
And argu't with thee face to face:
To baffle in thy person here
Thy mighty Master Jupiter.
Take then upon thee his defence
With all thy mighty Eloquence,
And mak't appear that he has reason
To chain me here this bitter season,
In prospect of the Caspian-Ports
To which the trading world resorts,

8

To all these crowds of men to be
A Spectacle of misery;
Yea (and what's more) of horror, even
To Scythians, to whom is given
By all that have been hither

The Author means driven by necessity of Trading, as well as by the Winds.

driven,

The name of bloodiest under Heaven.

Merc.
Faith thy defence comes now too late;
But if thou hast a mind to prate,
Wee'l give thee hearing, and we may,
For we are here enjoyn'd to stay
Until we see the

The Vulture.

Pigeon driver

Come down to prey upon thy Liver.
In the mean time wee'l shew our breeding,
In our attention to thy pleading;
Make use of time then, and be quick
In pouring out thy Rhetorick,
'Twill doubtless ravish; For I hear
Thou art a mighty Sophister.

Promet.
Nay, to speak first it is thy part,
Because thou my Accuser art;
And in so doing take heed, pray,
You don't your Masters cause betray.

9

Smug here shall stand by, and be mute,
And be the Judge of our dispute.

Vulc.
Who, I be Judge against my Father!
Thy Peacher or thy Hangman rather,
For having my own Forge bereaven
Of heat, by stealing Fire from Heaven.

Promet.
Why then I'le tell you what to do,
Your Accusation's split in two,

Speaking to Vulcan.

Thou of the Theft to speak hadst best,

And let him handle all the rest;
T'other offences leave to him:
And also it would ill beseem
The God of Thieves, in open Session
To speak against his own profession.

Vulc.
No, no, to meddle I am loth;
Mercury here shall speak for's both;
He is a Clerk of better reading:
For my part I've no skill in pleading:
He has been bred to't, I was ne're
Cut out to be a Barrester,
My head too heavy was, and logger,
Ever to make a Pettifogger.

10

I'le ne're deny it, I have more Art
In clowting of a crasie Cart:
But he by bawling, 'tis well known,
Has gotten many a good half Crown;
And by that Trade has got his living,
For all thy talk, as well as Thieving.

Merc.
It would require a tedious time,
Piecemeal to handle ev'ry Crime,
Of which thou lowsy, mangy, filthy,
Abominable Knave art guilty:
Nor is't enough in running fashion,
Barely to name each accusation:
But since my Gentleman confesses,
Nay glories in his wickednesses,
My task by that so much the less is.
And it great folly were to babble
A great long tedious Ribble-Rabble
Of Crimes would load a Councel-Table,
And go about with grave Sentences
To prove a Bead-roll of Offences,
Of which, without being so strict,
He is by his own mouth convict.

11

And therefore I shall say but this,
That undeniably it is
The greatest injury can be
To Jupiter's great Clemency,
So often to relapse into
Crimes (Sir) for which you full well knew,
The Gallows were long since your due,
And in defiance still of Heaven,
To sin as often as forgiven,

Promet.
A great Case in few words laid open,
Learnedly has your Worship spoken,
Good Master Serjeant, y'have undone
The Lawyers ev'ry Mother's Son.
'Tis pity but you had held on,
It was so pithy an Oration:
But now how wise your Accusation
Is in the Substance, would be known,
And that (Sir) we shall see anon.
But since you think y'ave said enough,
Without one syllable of proof,
I'le enter into my defence
To answer your great Eloquence.

12

And first and formost here I all
The Gods in Heav'n to witness call,
It pities me to th'heart to see
That the great Jupiter should be
So out of humor, and so grum
As to pronounce this heavy Doom,
Not only on a man, but even
A God who has a right in Heaven,
One of the merry'st of Boon-blades,
And one too of his old Camrades,
Nay one that some time (much good do him)
Has been full serviceable to him,
And all this only for a Jeast
I put upon him at a Feast.
But had I thought hee'd been so lodden
Of his bak't, fry'd, boild, rost, and sodden,
I should (I am not such a Noddy)
Have jeasted with some other Body.
Thou know'st what liberty of jeasting
Every one takes when they are feasting,
Where we throw Cushions, Chairs, and Stools,
And none but Children, or meer fools

13

Any thing ever do take ill,
Let a man do what e're he will:
But evermore the better sort
Turn all to raillery and sport.
But for one, of the state he is,
To let such a poor thing as this
(Scarcely the shadow of a wrong)
Lye festering in his heart so long,
And to this damnable degree
To wreak his Anger as you see,
In my poor judgment is a part
So much below the generous heart
Not only of a God to do,
And of all Gods the Soveraign too:
But even of a Gentleman,
A civil, and a well-bred man:
For if such honest Liberties,
Such pastimes, and such tricks as these
Must banisht be from merry meetings;
I fain would know what at such sittings
There will be left to do, but fill
One's Guts like bruits, to munch and swill,

14

Which is unfit (if I am able
To judge) of any civil Table.
I did not then, I swear, imagine
He would have taken't in such dudgin;
Or that hee'd had so little wit,
As the next day to think of it;
Much less he would have been so canker'd,
So false a Brother of the Tankard,
As to have plagu'd me in this sort
For what I only did in sport.
What? if in play, I made one Mess
Than others something worse and less,
And offer'd 'um to his refusing,
Only to try his wit in choosing?
Was that so hainous an offence,
He must bear malice ever since,
And nourish such a damn'd malignity,
As if the uttermost indignity,
Both to his Person, and his Crown,
I offer'd had that e're was known?
But come now, at the worst let's take it,
And mak't as ill, as ill can make it;

15

Suppose then, more than th'didst at first,
Not only that his share was worst;
But that hee'd had no part at all;
Must he for this make all this brawl,
And must he (as th'old saying is)
For such a trivial toy as this
A thing indeed not worth a feather)
Shuffle both Heav'n and Earth together;
And of one meal for the great losses,
Of nothing talk but Stocks, and Crosses,
Wracks, Gibbets, and these new devices
Of Vultures, Rocks, and Precipices!
Let him take heed, when this is bruited,
That this proceeding been't imputed
To an unworthiness of Spirit:
I promise you I greatly fear it.
For a great thing, I fain would know,
What would this Thunderer stick to do,
Who makes this strange unheard of clutter
For loosing of his bread and butter?
How many men would scorn this odd,
This strange proceeding of a God!

16

Does any History relate,
That ever man of any state,
So greedy was, or passionate,
To make, or put his Cook away
For licking of his fingers pray?
Or if a Tripe, or so, he rifles,
One ne're regards such petty Trifles;
Or if one do chastise him for it,
'Tis only with a kick, or whirret:
But for so small a Peccadill
To send a man up Holborn-hill:
An act is of an odious dye,
And an unheard of cruelty!
Thus much to say, I've tane occasion,
To th'first point of my accusation;
Wherein so pitiful's the matter
Which does my innocence bespatter,
That (though I do not often use it)
I almost blush't but to excuse it;
They then may sure blush well enough
Who charge me with such wretched stuff.
Let's now to the next Charge proceed,

17

And that's a hainous one indeed,
The Making man; wherein I am
To seek 'gainst what you would declaim:
Whether the thing a Crime you call
Consist in making man at all;
Or that it only is the fashion
That wants your worships approbation?
But wee'l examine both, that's fair;
And to the first I do declare,
The Gods so far from loosing are,
Any thing by this new Creation,
That (if they would be folks of fashion,
And with their Neighbours would be quiet)
They'r infinitely gainers by it.
And (though they will be so outrageous)
For them 'tis much more advantageous,
That there be men, though they be evil,
Deform'd, and wicked as the Devil,
And good, or bad, or low, or tall,
Then that there should be none at all.
And (back into past time to go)
In the beginning you must know,

18

The world, which now no Tenants wants,
Save Gods, had no Inhabitants.
At which good time the Earth (alass!)
Naught but a vast wild Desart was,
All over grown with Trees, and Bushes,
Mansions for Black-birds, Jayes, and Thrushes,
Where there nor riding was, nor walking,
Good store of Game, but no good Hawking,
Where Herds of Deer did graze, and fill 'um,
But no body to hunt and kill 'um.
For, whence (Sir Mercury) by your leave,
Do you in your wise head conceive,
Come all those goodly well-till'd fields,
That so good Wheat and Barley yield;
Whence these fine Gardens with their flowers,
These Temples with their stately Towers,
Of Altars all this mighty store,
And Statues which the world adore,
And several things that I could mention;
But from man's labour, and invention.
Therefore as I who from a Groom
No bigger then a Millers Thumb,

19

Have still been taking daily pains,
And cudgelling about my brains
To find inventions out that shou'd
Conduce unto the publick good,
Was musing after my old rate,
And meditating this and that,
An old Diogenes in Tub-like
For something useful to the publick:
As Poets sing, without delay
I took some water, and some clay,
And tempring them together

Betwixt his finger and his thumb.

thus,

E'en made a Man like one of us.
Wherein Minerva was an Actress,
(I'le not conceal my Benefactress)
And this is all, as I am civil,
That I committed have of Evil.
A mighty matter (without doubt)
For Jove to keep this stir about!
But what complain the Gods of trow?
What is it that offend them so!
Do not my Creatures them adore?
Are they less Gods now, than before

20

I undertook this Puppets trade,
And Male and Female Babies made?
For but to see how Jupiter
Does fret, and fume, and stamp, and stare,
Threaten, and huff, and swear, and swagger,
And clap his hand on dudgeon Dagger,
A man would think that he had lost
The half of his Estate almost,
At least his Grand-fathers Seal-Ring
Or some most dear beloved thing.
What? is his Majesty afraid
Those dapper fellows I have made,
Against his power should rant and roar,
As did the Gyants heretofore!
Or if they should turn Mutineers,
(Which yet they dare not for their ears)
Is he who could the Sons of Titan
(For all their huffing) make be --- 'um,
Much more reduce them all to reason,
Grown feebler now, then at that season?
The Gods then by my fine device
Sustain no kind of prejudice.

21

But to shew forth, and make it plain
That they by my invention gain,
Do but behold the Earth, which was
In former dayes a barren place,
With Thorns and Brambles over-spread:
But now improv'd, and husbanded,
Affording things innumerable
To cloth mans back, and store his Table.
For of it self it nought produces
But Crabs, and Fruits of sower Juyces.
Nay, ev'n the Sea is, in some fashion,
Appeas'd, and tam'd by Navigation.
The Islands are inhabited,
The Worlds round face with Cities spread,
Where men do Sacrifice, and pray
On many a merry Holy-day.
In short (as the small Poet sayes)
Temples, Towns, Streets, nay the High-wayes,
(As oft as people travel there)
Are all brim full of Jupiter.
Again, if one could make a story,
That I had aim'd at my own glory

22

In doing this, it something were;
But it does contrary appear:
For 'mongst so many Fanes that rise
To such a Crew of Deities,
Of any one did'st hear't related
Unto Prometheus dedicated?
Which does sufficiently declare,
That I my one particular
Honour, and Interest have neglected,
And but the Publick nought respected.
Consider further (Mercury)
That what we call felicity
Without a witness looking on,
Can be but an imperfect one,
And that if Mortals there were none
To see this great Creation,
The World would be but a dead Mass,
And our advantages much less
(Though the strange Fabrick well require it)
In having no one to admire it.
Again, as things to us are known
But only by Comparison;

23

So if unhappy men were none,
Our happiness would be unknown;
And for such benefits as these,
In stead of giving me large Fees,
At least great honour for reward,
You crucifie me, which goes hard,
That smart unto my feeling Sence
Must be my Vertues recompence.
But what! there are Adulterers,
Murtherers, Robbers, Ravishers,
Perhaps you'l argue amongst men:
Why, if there are, I pray what then?
Are there not amongst us the same,
As void of honesty and shame;
And yet for this we don't condemn
The Heav'n and Earth that nourish't them.
But you will adde perhaps this more,
That we've more trouble than before,
And are put to't to find supplies
For many more necessities:
Who ever heard, I know would fain,
A Shepheard of his Flock complain

24

For fruitfulness, though they ean'd double,
Because they help't him to more trouble?
If painful 'tis, 'tis profitable,
Nay pleasant too, and honorable;
And this advantage brings with't too,
It finds us something still to do;
Whereas we otherwise should go
With hands in pockets every day,
And nothing have to do but play;
Or swill and guttle every day
With Nectar and Ambrosia.
But that at which most vext I am,
Is to hear those the most exclaim
Of men, who least can be without 'um,
And if they women meet do rout 'um,
For the fine knacks they wear about 'um.
And, though they keep this mighty puther,
Do love them more than any other.
Nay, and each day to thousand shapes
Transform themselves to act their Rapes,
And not contented (as they say)
To take a snatch, and so away:

25

But that they may stick longer to't,
Ev'n make them Goddesses to boot.
But some may say, that I had reason,
And that Man-making was no treason,
Only it should not have been thus,
To make him like to one of us.
And could I in ingenuous Noddle
Have chosen out a fitter Model
Whereby my art might be exprest,
Than what I knew was perfectest?
Had I begun my making Trade
With four-legg'd Beasts, and Brutes had made,
Perhaps it would have been no sin,
And I no Criminal had been:
But from such Creatures of meer sence,
Devoid of all intelligence,
With faces prone, and looks dejected,
What service could you have expected?
The Gods had been without dispute
Most rarely worship't by a Brute:
A great Bull would have been, I fear,
But an obstreperous worshipper,

26

And bellowing Prayers I'me afraid,
Great Jupiter would have dismaid.
An Ass, or Horse, in sensless wise
Would bray, or whinny Liturgies.
To hear (Sir Merc'ry) it would fear yee,
A Wolf houl out a miserere,
And t'hear a Lyon, worse than that,
Roaring out a Magnificat.
Come, come (my Masters) say I must,
That you are horribly unjust.
You stick not far as Ægypt rome
Only to snuff a Hecatomb,
And him the cause, your malice dooms
You Altars have and Hecatombs.
But come enough of this! Let's on
To my last Accusation;
The stealing fire: and first have I
Impoverish't any Deity
By having given it to men?
Or have you now less fire, than when
I had therewith inspired no Creature?
And is it not the proper nature

27

Of that warm Element to dart
It's rayes and heat to every part,
And yet still to continue fire,
Keeping its vertue still entire?
Then what a vain Objection's this,
A poor fetch, and a meer Caprice,
Below, and unbefitting all
The Poets Benefactors call!
Besides, had I purloyned, even
To the last spark of fire in Heav'n,
I had not wrong'd the Gods a bit:
They boyl no Pot, nor turn no Spit;
For your Ambrosia does not need
To be or hash't, or fricasseed.
A Cook may there forget his Trade,
Where nor Pottage, nor Olia's made:
Whereas poor men, contrary wise,
Want it for their necessities,
If for no other use at all
But t'Sacrifice to you withal.
Do you not love to smell the Roast
Of a good Rammish Holocaust?

28

So that 'tis plain (for all pretences)
You speak against your Consciences.
I wonder (hang me if I don't)
Since this is such a great affront,
And of your fire since y'are so wary;
You han't forbid Don Luminary
T'impart his Light, which is, I'me sure,
A fire more glorious, and more pure,
And that t'orethrow the use of Dial,
You do not bring him to his Trial
For having thus, without all measure,
Profusely squander'd out your Treasure,
And like a treacherous Trust-breaker,
Lewdly embezzel'd your Exchequer.
This is (you pair of Jove's Bumbayliffs,
Or Hangmen rather) sum totalis
Of what I'de for my self to say:
If you confute me can, you may:
But (for I ever lov'd plain dealing)
(O Mercury, thou God stealing)
To tell thee the plain truth o'th' story,
'Tis past, I doubt, thy Oratory:

29

But do me right, pledge and 'twere water,
Reply although not much to th'matter.

Merc.
It is not easie (I confess)
To baffle such a plate of brass;
For in my dayes I ne're did hear
So impudent a Sophister.
And well's thee Jupiter's not near thee,
Who, had he chanc't to over-hear thee,
I confidently do assure thee
Thou would'st have so provok't his fury,
By slandring him under pretence
Of pleading in thy own defence,
So vilely slandring him; that he
For such a grand indignity,
Would in his indignation,
Have sent thee down, instead of one,
A dozen Vultures of a feather
To prey upon thy Lungs together.
But tell me why thou being a Prophet,
(For surely thou knew'st nothing of it)
Had'st not the knowledge to foresee
The evil was to fall on thee?


30

Promet.
Oh (Mercury) hold thee content:
One may foresee, but not prevent.
I did foresee it well enough;
Of which to give thee further proof,
Know that I likewise did foresee
A

Hercules.

Theban should deliver me,

One of thy old acquaintance, and
A proper fellow of his hand,
Who with a lusty Bolt and Tiller
Will come and be my Vultures killer.

Merc.
I wish he were already come,
And that in Jove's great dining Room,
We were with each one a good thwittle
Again set down to swill, and vittle,
Provided (Signior) do you see,
That you should not the Carver be,
Especially (my Friend) for me.

Promet.
Why thou wilt see me there again,
Marry, I cannot just say when:
But I will tell thee 'twixt us two,
I shall so rare a service do
For Jupiter, that for my labour

31

He will restore me to his favour.

Merc.
What service is it that so great is?

Pro.
Thou know'st a Lass call'd Madam Thetis,
A pretty little wanton Drab:
But I a secret will not blab
That is to purchase and advance
My peace and my deliverance.

Merc.
If it be so, thou do'st full well,
Yea, and full wisely not to tell:
But Vulcan come, we must away,
For yonder is the Bird of prey,
I see him in a Kill-duck place,
Ready to make a stoop; alass!
Beware thy Liver now, I'me sorry
(Prometheus) very sorry for yee,
And wish thy Liberator were
As ready, as the danger's near.