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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 | Burlesque upon Burlesque |  |
DIALOGUE.
Jupiter and Cupid.
Cupid.Ah Jupiter, I prethee hear,
For thine own sake good Jupiter,
If I am guilty of a Crime,
Do but forgive me this one time,
And if I e're do so agin
Then whip me till the blood do spin.
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But still bear malice to a Child?
Jupit.
A Child, thou little Rakehell thou!
A pretty Child thou art I trow;
Older than Japhet, little Hang-string,
Though one might wear thee in his Band-string.
And then for art and subtilty,
Prometheus is an Ass to thee.
Cupid.
That Painters best and Poets know,
Who ever represent me so,
And unto them I do refer it;
Who, if they are put to't, will swear it:
But were I what thou'dst have me be,
What mischief have I done to thee,
That ought t'engage thine indignation,
To use me on this cruel fashion?
Jupit.
What dost thou ask me, Nere-be-good?
When thou hast so enflam'd my blood,
That as I Philters swallow'd had,
I every day run whynnying mad,
For every woman that I see;
And yet thou mak'st not one love me:
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I'me put to pump for new devices,
And to put on a thousand shapes,
The better to commit my Rapes.
Cupid.
That is because the woman fear thee,
And therefore tremble to come near thee.
Jupit.
And yet the ill condition'd Toads
Can love forsooth the other Gods,
Apollo he can have his Joyes
Both with the Wenches and the Boyes.
Cupid.
The cause of that is quickly guess't,
He's handsome, and goes sprucely drest,
And yet for all his powder'd locks,
His Songs and Sonnets, with a Pox,
And that he goes so fine and trim,
Daphne could never fancy him:
Nor could he e're her liking move,
So absolutely free is Love.
But would'st thou spend each day and hour
In dressing, and not look so sowre,
Which (in plain truth) does mainly fright 'um;
I make no question but thou'dst smite 'um.
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If thou wilt turn a Carpet Knight,
To lay those by all women dread,
Thy Thunder and thy Gorgons-head.
Jup.
What Rogue! would'st have me to lay by
The Ensigns of my Deity:
That's pleasant counsel, faith, but yet
I think I shall not follow it:
No sirrah, I shall more prefer
The Dignity of Jupiter.
Cupid.
Then thou must women let alone.
Jupit.
No, I shall wench still ten to one.
And yet (for all thy haste) not bate
One inch or tittle of my state.
Howe're, since thou so well hast prated,
My anger is for once abated,
And I forgive thee all old grutches.
Cupid.
I'me glad I'me got out of his clutches.
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