Hudibras Redivivus or, a Burlesque poem on the times. The Second Edition. To which is added, An Apology, and some other Improvements throughout the Whole [by Edward Ward] |
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| III. | CANTO III. |
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 | Hudibras Redivivus |  |
3
CANTO III.
Autumn
, that Raggamuffin Thief,
That blows down ev'ry fading Leaf,
And robs each fruitful Plant and Tree
Of all their pleasing Verdency;
Beginning now his searching Reign,
Which feeble Age endures with Pain;
Dreaded by all, whose old Debauches
Have brought their crazy Limbs to Crutches,
And fill'd 'em with repenting Aches:
'Twas then, when August near was spent,
That Bat, th' excoriated Saint,
Had usher'd in his Smithfield-Revels,
Where Punchionelloes, Popes, and Devils
Are by Authority allow'd,
To please the giddy gaping Crowd.
That blows down ev'ry fading Leaf,
And robs each fruitful Plant and Tree
Of all their pleasing Verdency;
Beginning now his searching Reign,
Which feeble Age endures with Pain;
Dreaded by all, whose old Debauches
Have brought their crazy Limbs to Crutches,
And fill'd 'em with repenting Aches:
4
That Bat, th' excoriated Saint,
Had usher'd in his Smithfield-Revels,
Where Punchionelloes, Popes, and Devils
Are by Authority allow'd,
To please the giddy gaping Crowd.
T' encrease the Numbers of the Fools
That thither flock'd in mighty Shoals,
I mov'd with the tumultuous Stream,
To view the Fair, that Devil's Dream,
In hopes to meet with some new Droll,
So Hyperbolically dull,
Play'd so prepost'rously and madly,
So wrong, so exquisitely sadly,
That I might praise it, when I'ad seen it,
For something very odious in it,
As Ladies do those ill-shap'd Creatures,
Dutch Mastiffs, for their ugly Features.
That thither flock'd in mighty Shoals,
I mov'd with the tumultuous Stream,
To view the Fair, that Devil's Dream,
In hopes to meet with some new Droll,
So Hyperbolically dull,
Play'd so prepost'rously and madly,
So wrong, so exquisitely sadly,
That I might praise it, when I'ad seen it,
For something very odious in it,
As Ladies do those ill-shap'd Creatures,
Dutch Mastiffs, for their ugly Features.
No sooner had I pass'd the Gate,
Where fetter'd Villains dread their Fate,
And enter'd into Gilt-Spur Street,
But such a Nosegay did I meet,
Arising from the Pig and Pork,
Of greasy Cooks at sweating Work,
Enough to 've made a faithless Jew,
Or freckly Scotch-man Keck or Spew,
Who are of Swine's-Flesh much affear'd,
E'er since the Devil drown'd the Herd,
And brought the Hogs he had possest,
To a bad Market at the best.
Poor Creatures so to loose their Lives!
But needs must, when the Devil drives.
Where fetter'd Villains dread their Fate,
5
But such a Nosegay did I meet,
Arising from the Pig and Pork,
Of greasy Cooks at sweating Work,
Enough to 've made a faithless Jew,
Or freckly Scotch-man Keck or Spew,
Who are of Swine's-Flesh much affear'd,
E'er since the Devil drown'd the Herd,
And brought the Hogs he had possest,
To a bad Market at the best.
Poor Creatures so to loose their Lives!
But needs must, when the Devil drives.
At last I came into the Fair,
Where Crowds in such Confusion were,
Acting as if bereft of Wits,
Like so many loose Bedlamites;
Some squeezing in amidst the Rout,
And others elbowing to get out.
Fair Ladies clinging close to Cullies,
Jilts guarded from Affronts by Bullies;
White-Apron Whores in home-spun Dresses,
Link'd Arm in Arm by Pairs and Leashes,
Dogg'd by reforming Pimps, who watch 'em,
Hoping in some Intrigue to catch 'em,
That when detected, they might snack
The sinful Premium each poor Crack
Had gladly earn'd upon her Back.
Laborious Alley-Slaves in Swarms,
Their Trulls with Bastards in their Arms,
Squalling and roaring to be fed
With Apples, Pears, and Ginger-Bread.
Some pregnant Dames, well plough'd and sow'd,
Or, as the Scotch will have it, mow'd,
Were strutting with their Bellies big,
Longing, as I suppose, for Pig,
Brought thither to their Husband's Cost,
Least Hans en Kelder should be lost:
For how uneasy must their Lives
Be made, that stint great Belly'd Wives?
Young am'rous 'Prentic'd Beaus and Blades,
Stoll'n out with Cooks and Chamber-Maids,
To view the Wonders of the Fair,
And next, upon a Tavern-Chair
To take a Taste of Love's Delight,
And so walk home by Nine at Night,
One stepping in before the other,
Denying that they've been together.
So the young Lass, that bends her Love
Tow'rds him her Parents disapprove,
Steals out to Kiss him by the by,
Then seals the Secret with a Lie.
Where Crowds in such Confusion were,
Acting as if bereft of Wits,
Like so many loose Bedlamites;
Some squeezing in amidst the Rout,
And others elbowing to get out.
Fair Ladies clinging close to Cullies,
Jilts guarded from Affronts by Bullies;
6
Link'd Arm in Arm by Pairs and Leashes,
Dogg'd by reforming Pimps, who watch 'em,
Hoping in some Intrigue to catch 'em,
That when detected, they might snack
The sinful Premium each poor Crack
Had gladly earn'd upon her Back.
Laborious Alley-Slaves in Swarms,
Their Trulls with Bastards in their Arms,
Squalling and roaring to be fed
With Apples, Pears, and Ginger-Bread.
Some pregnant Dames, well plough'd and sow'd,
Or, as the Scotch will have it, mow'd,
Were strutting with their Bellies big,
Longing, as I suppose, for Pig,
Brought thither to their Husband's Cost,
Least Hans en Kelder should be lost:
For how uneasy must their Lives
Be made, that stint great Belly'd Wives?
7
Stoll'n out with Cooks and Chamber-Maids,
To view the Wonders of the Fair,
And next, upon a Tavern-Chair
To take a Taste of Love's Delight,
And so walk home by Nine at Night,
One stepping in before the other,
Denying that they've been together.
So the young Lass, that bends her Love
Tow'rds him her Parents disapprove,
Steals out to Kiss him by the by,
Then seals the Secret with a Lie.
Old Cits, with jolly Wives and Daughters,
Young Jilts, with gen'rous Fornicators;
Fair Concubines, with keeping Cullies,
And Rural Swains, with Jugs and Dollies,
Jumbling and jostling to and fro,
Some from, and others to a Show.
Pick-pockets for a Booty diving,
Whores plying, Hackney Coach-men driving;
Cooks winding up their ratling Jacks,
Preparing Food for Culls and Cracks;
Some sweating very hard at Work,
In basting Meazly Pig and Pork,
Whilst greasy Pearls of Serum ran
From their Brows into th' Dripping-pan.
Who knows but Human Fat, tho' fulsome,
May make the Flesh of Hog more wholsome?
Since 'tis allow'd extreamly good
In Med'cine, pray why not in Food?
Young Jilts, with gen'rous Fornicators;
Fair Concubines, with keeping Cullies,
And Rural Swains, with Jugs and Dollies,
Jumbling and jostling to and fro,
Some from, and others to a Show.
Pick-pockets for a Booty diving,
Whores plying, Hackney Coach-men driving;
8
Preparing Food for Culls and Cracks;
Some sweating very hard at Work,
In basting Meazly Pig and Pork,
Whilst greasy Pearls of Serum ran
From their Brows into th' Dripping-pan.
Who knows but Human Fat, tho' fulsome,
May make the Flesh of Hog more wholsome?
Since 'tis allow'd extreamly good
In Med'cine, pray why not in Food?
Others stood busy at their Doors,
In dirty Shirts, some fine, some course,
Tinctur'd beneath the Arm-pits, yellow,
By their own nauseous melted Tallow,
Each crying out with Boatswain's Voice,
Here's dainty Pig, and Pork that's choice,
Crisp, brown, and fine; most nicely ready:
You're welcome, Sir: Walk in, my Lady.
Then down he rubs his shining Hairs,
And drys his dripping sweaty Ears
Next, stepping nimbly as a Grig,
With the same Clout he wipes his Pig:
Rare Pig and Pork, my Lads and Lasses;
Walk in; step up, and take your Places.
So the poor Nurse, when she's in haste
To get her good Man's Dinner drest,
Does oft with shitten Dish-clout clean
The greasy Porridge-pot within;
Thus makes the Rag, that's once defil'd,
Serve both the Kitchen, and the Child.
Therefore 'tis said by wise old Matrons,
Most Nurses will be nasty Slatterns.
In dirty Shirts, some fine, some course,
Tinctur'd beneath the Arm-pits, yellow,
By their own nauseous melted Tallow,
Each crying out with Boatswain's Voice,
Here's dainty Pig, and Pork that's choice,
Crisp, brown, and fine; most nicely ready:
You're welcome, Sir: Walk in, my Lady.
Then down he rubs his shining Hairs,
And drys his dripping sweaty Ears
9
With the same Clout he wipes his Pig:
Rare Pig and Pork, my Lads and Lasses;
Walk in; step up, and take your Places.
So the poor Nurse, when she's in haste
To get her good Man's Dinner drest,
Does oft with shitten Dish-clout clean
The greasy Porridge-pot within;
Thus makes the Rag, that's once defil'd,
Serve both the Kitchen, and the Child.
Therefore 'tis said by wise old Matrons,
Most Nurses will be nasty Slatterns.
All sorts of Noises blended were,
T' improve the Musick of the Fair.
Drums ratling, Lott'ry-Trumpets farting,
And croaking Fools their Lungs exerting.
Young Flat-caps, with extended Throats,
Crying their Damsons, Pears, and Nuts.
Boys with their penny Cat-calls tooting.
The Mob at Merry Andrew shouting.
The Actors bawling to the Rabble.
A Riot here, and there a Squabble;
That twenty thousand wild Cats squalling,
Met at one gen'ral Catterwowling,
With a large Pack of deep-mouth'd Dogs,
Mix'd with a Herd of grunting Hogs,
In Consort could not have supply'd us
With Discord so confus'dly hideous:
Nay, Hell and Bedlam broken loose,
Could scarce so damn'd a Noise produce;
Or in a truer Emblem show us
The wretched State of those below us.
T' improve the Musick of the Fair.
Drums ratling, Lott'ry-Trumpets farting,
And croaking Fools their Lungs exerting.
Young Flat-caps, with extended Throats,
Crying their Damsons, Pears, and Nuts.
Boys with their penny Cat-calls tooting.
The Mob at Merry Andrew shouting.
10
A Riot here, and there a Squabble;
That twenty thousand wild Cats squalling,
Met at one gen'ral Catterwowling,
With a large Pack of deep-mouth'd Dogs,
Mix'd with a Herd of grunting Hogs,
In Consort could not have supply'd us
With Discord so confus'dly hideous:
Nay, Hell and Bedlam broken loose,
Could scarce so damn'd a Noise produce;
Or in a truer Emblem show us
The wretched State of those below us.
Next, I the wooden World beheld,
That did such various Wonders yield,
Built for imaginary Princes
To strut in Buskins, and in Tinseys;
From whence Philosophers might learn
To treat proud Majesty with Scorn,
And gaze with a reproachful Eye
On all their Pomp and Vanity.
For if a stroling strutting Ape,
Crept into an Heroick Shape,
Can to the Life, with graceful Art,
Perform a gallant Hero's Part;
And Punk, that lives by her Debauches,
Can represent some beauteous Dutchess,
Th' Originals, some foolish Puppies
May think no better than the Coppies,
So fancy Honour but a Whim,
Lessen its Worth in their Esteem,
And think all Grandure but a Dream;
For Peasants nothing truly know
Of Greatness, but by outward Show.
Therefore, what Notions must they have
Of a King mimmick'd by a Slave,
Or haughty States-man by a Knave?
None can a Giant's Stature guess,
That only sees his Picture less.
That did such various Wonders yield,
Built for imaginary Princes
To strut in Buskins, and in Tinseys;
From whence Philosophers might learn
To treat proud Majesty with Scorn,
And gaze with a reproachful Eye
On all their Pomp and Vanity.
11
Crept into an Heroick Shape,
Can to the Life, with graceful Art,
Perform a gallant Hero's Part;
And Punk, that lives by her Debauches,
Can represent some beauteous Dutchess,
Th' Originals, some foolish Puppies
May think no better than the Coppies,
So fancy Honour but a Whim,
Lessen its Worth in their Esteem,
And think all Grandure but a Dream;
For Peasants nothing truly know
Of Greatness, but by outward Show.
Therefore, what Notions must they have
Of a King mimmick'd by a Slave,
Or haughty States-man by a Knave?
None can a Giant's Stature guess,
That only sees his Picture less.
Thus gazing on the glitt'ring Trains,
Stoll'n out from bawdy Nooks and Lanes,
Where the lewd Punk and Jack of Dandy
Carouse at Night o'er English Brandy;
And Smithfield Queens, disrob'd of Pride,
In tatter'd Smocks their Honour hide,
'Till City Cull, with half a Crown,
Knocks all that Princely Greatness down,
That look'd so proud on slit-deal Throne.
At last, as staring round about,
With Eyes advanc'd above the Rout,
A pompous Train, in great Decorum,
Popp'd out, with an old Fool before 'em,
And march'd in State behind the Tony,
The utmost length of the Balcony.
The Zany, grinning, danc'd along,
To please the much more foolish Throng,
That crowded Ankle deep in Dirt,
To laugh at Merry Andrew's Sport,
Who labour'd hard t' oblige the Asses
With antick Tricks, and odd Grimaces.
Stoll'n out from bawdy Nooks and Lanes,
12
Carouse at Night o'er English Brandy;
And Smithfield Queens, disrob'd of Pride,
In tatter'd Smocks their Honour hide,
'Till City Cull, with half a Crown,
Knocks all that Princely Greatness down,
That look'd so proud on slit-deal Throne.
At last, as staring round about,
With Eyes advanc'd above the Rout,
A pompous Train, in great Decorum,
Popp'd out, with an old Fool before 'em,
And march'd in State behind the Tony,
The utmost length of the Balcony.
The Zany, grinning, danc'd along,
To please the much more foolish Throng,
That crowded Ankle deep in Dirt,
To laugh at Merry Andrew's Sport,
Who labour'd hard t' oblige the Asses
With antick Tricks, and odd Grimaces.
13
A strutting, frowning, Bullet-headed
Brawny Bravado, next succeeded;
Knit Brows and a Majestick Scorn
Did his stern Countenance adorn;
And when his Eyes vouchsaf'd to throw
One Glance upon the Fools below,
The Favour which the Tyrant show'd,
Was with such Insolence bestow'd,
As if some frenzical Conceit
Had made him, in Opinion, Great,
And crown'd the Bully, in his Fancy,
Monarch of some strange Land beyond Sea.
So raving Bedlamites (poor Souls!)
On Beds of Straw in Piss-burnt Holes,
When miserably drawn beside
Their Wits, by an Excess of Pride,
Believe, when most bereft of Senses,
They're some strange forreign Kings or Princes.
Brawny Bravado, next succeeded;
Knit Brows and a Majestick Scorn
Did his stern Countenance adorn;
And when his Eyes vouchsaf'd to throw
One Glance upon the Fools below,
The Favour which the Tyrant show'd,
Was with such Insolence bestow'd,
As if some frenzical Conceit
Had made him, in Opinion, Great,
And crown'd the Bully, in his Fancy,
Monarch of some strange Land beyond Sea.
So raving Bedlamites (poor Souls!)
On Beds of Straw in Piss-burnt Holes,
When miserably drawn beside
Their Wits, by an Excess of Pride,
Believe, when most bereft of Senses,
They're some strange forreign Kings or Princes.
The Cap the stalking Hero wore,
Was set with Bristol Jems before:
On top, stood mounted, most compleatly,
A Plume, to make him tall and stately,
Whose lofty cock'ring feather'd Pride
Nodded at each Majestick Stride.
Thus did he straddle up and down,
Like stalking Cock with copple Crown,
Looking in his fantastick Gere,
Proud as the crowing Chanticlere.
To add an awful modern Grace
To his broad Shoulders, and his Face,
His Head was drown'd in Horse-hair Wig,
Profusely long, and hugely big,
Which o'er his Back dishrevel'd lay,
To make his Majesty more gay,
Hanging from's Head, that Brainless Lump,
Some Inches down below his Rump,
Like the long Locks of Adam's Wife,
When painted by the Tree of Life.
Was set with Bristol Jems before:
14
A Plume, to make him tall and stately,
Whose lofty cock'ring feather'd Pride
Nodded at each Majestick Stride.
Thus did he straddle up and down,
Like stalking Cock with copple Crown,
Looking in his fantastick Gere,
Proud as the crowing Chanticlere.
To add an awful modern Grace
To his broad Shoulders, and his Face,
His Head was drown'd in Horse-hair Wig,
Profusely long, and hugely big,
Which o'er his Back dishrevel'd lay,
To make his Majesty more gay,
Hanging from's Head, that Brainless Lump,
Some Inches down below his Rump,
Like the long Locks of Adam's Wife,
When painted by the Tree of Life.
His Roman Mantle, and his Dress,
Were so bedaub'd with Copper Lace,
That had the Metal been translated,
Which made the Mimmick so conceited,
It would have prov'd (some Tinker's Thought)
Enough to 've made a Porridge-Pot:
But yet beneath his Robes of State,
His Britches seem'd of ancient Date,
New vamp'd, upon this grand Occasion,
Against his Kingship's Coronation.
Nor did his Hands-Skoons well agree
With his Majestick Finery,
His Paws be'ng cover'd with a Pair
Of Gloves, clean wash'd against the Fair,
Which look'd of such a tawny Yellow,
Scarce fitting for so fine a Fellow.
But well ma' imaginary Lords
Grow saving, who have got no Hoards,
Since Quality use now-a-days
The very same penurious Ways.
Were so bedaub'd with Copper Lace,
15
Which made the Mimmick so conceited,
It would have prov'd (some Tinker's Thought)
Enough to 've made a Porridge-Pot:
But yet beneath his Robes of State,
His Britches seem'd of ancient Date,
New vamp'd, upon this grand Occasion,
Against his Kingship's Coronation.
Nor did his Hands-Skoons well agree
With his Majestick Finery,
His Paws be'ng cover'd with a Pair
Of Gloves, clean wash'd against the Fair,
Which look'd of such a tawny Yellow,
Scarce fitting for so fine a Fellow.
But well ma' imaginary Lords
Grow saving, who have got no Hoards,
Since Quality use now-a-days
The very same penurious Ways.
Thus dress'd, with Buskins round his Shanks,
He stalk'd along the yielding Planks
In Shoes, which by their clumsy Tread,
Seem'd lately soal'd, or under-laid.
A good Shift too! for I have seen
A stroling Monarch, and his Queen,
In Country Barn, the Hobs amuse,
With but one Heel to both their Shoes.
He stalk'd along the yielding Planks
16
Seem'd lately soal'd, or under-laid.
A good Shift too! for I have seen
A stroling Monarch, and his Queen,
In Country Barn, the Hobs amuse,
With but one Heel to both their Shoes.
A Princess next to her dear Bully,
Mov'd most Majestically slowly;
Yet at each leisure stately Stride,
She stretch'd her self most wond'rous wide,
To shew what Room there was between
Those Legs, where many a Spark had been.
Her wither'd Face, long blown upon
By half the Rake-Hells of the Town;
Publick in Stews, as on the Stage,
Decay'd by Physick, more than Age,
Was now touch'd up with so much Air,
And painted so divinely fair;
Improv'd by Secrets she had bought
In Viol, Box, and Gally-pot;
From whence, new Charms were plaister'd on,
To fit her for a Smithfield Throne.
Her Eye-Brows were to Arches turn'd,
Shap'd by a Cork in Candle burn'd,
Like Cupid's Bows, from whence her Darts
Were shot, to wound unwary Hearts.
Her Lips of a Vermilion Dye,
Look'd so inviting to the Eye,
That ev'n the very Words she said,
Must needs be tinctur'd o'er with Red,
The Paint was so profusely spread.
Her Cheeks, which knew not how to blush,
Were stain'd with such a charming Flush,
That none could see, for Paint and Patches,
The Reliques of her lewd Debauches.
Her Bubbies, which she forward thrust,
Boil'd o'er her Stays with very Lust,
That tho' she lov'd, behind the Curtain,
To sip off, now and then, a Quartan,
Yet none could view her, but must think,
O'th' two, she'd rather Whore, than Drink.
Her feather'd Plumes, and borrow'd Locks,
Gave to her Charms, new Baits and Hooks;
With Diamonds sticking round her Head,
In Southwark, at some Glass-House made,
Which added to her plaister'd Face,
Such a true Play-House Jilting Grace,
That her affected Looks, and Cloathing,
Would turn one's Liking to a Loathing:
For borrow'd Charms appear but Apish,
And Punks, in spite of Art, but Trapish.
Mov'd most Majestically slowly;
Yet at each leisure stately Stride,
She stretch'd her self most wond'rous wide,
To shew what Room there was between
Those Legs, where many a Spark had been.
Her wither'd Face, long blown upon
By half the Rake-Hells of the Town;
Publick in Stews, as on the Stage,
Decay'd by Physick, more than Age,
Was now touch'd up with so much Air,
And painted so divinely fair;
Improv'd by Secrets she had bought
In Viol, Box, and Gally-pot;
17
To fit her for a Smithfield Throne.
Her Eye-Brows were to Arches turn'd,
Shap'd by a Cork in Candle burn'd,
Like Cupid's Bows, from whence her Darts
Were shot, to wound unwary Hearts.
Her Lips of a Vermilion Dye,
Look'd so inviting to the Eye,
That ev'n the very Words she said,
Must needs be tinctur'd o'er with Red,
The Paint was so profusely spread.
Her Cheeks, which knew not how to blush,
Were stain'd with such a charming Flush,
That none could see, for Paint and Patches,
The Reliques of her lewd Debauches.
Her Bubbies, which she forward thrust,
Boil'd o'er her Stays with very Lust,
That tho' she lov'd, behind the Curtain,
To sip off, now and then, a Quartan,
18
O'th' two, she'd rather Whore, than Drink.
Her feather'd Plumes, and borrow'd Locks,
Gave to her Charms, new Baits and Hooks;
With Diamonds sticking round her Head,
In Southwark, at some Glass-House made,
Which added to her plaister'd Face,
Such a true Play-House Jilting Grace,
That her affected Looks, and Cloathing,
Would turn one's Liking to a Loathing:
For borrow'd Charms appear but Apish,
And Punks, in spite of Art, but Trapish.
Her Honour's Petticoat and Gown,
Were nicely made of blew Saloon,
Which had long since, without a Joke,
Lin'd some Lord's Coach-Man's Liv'ry Cloak,
which, thro' some botching Fool's Assistance,
Look'd most Refulgent at a Distance,
Embroider'd round with fine gilt Leather,
Or Tinsey pink'd, I know not whether;
Adorn'd with here and there a Spangle,
That made her glitter like an Angel;
In which the scornful Gipsy trod
As stiff, as stately, and as proud,
As Dutchess at a Queen's Cor'nation,
Or Lord Mayor's Horse in Grand Procession.
Her Train, from her posterior Grope-hole,
Was full as long as any Hop-pole,
Born by two Pages up, well known
To be both Bastards of her own,
Being either big enough to trot
For Quartan, or for Ale-House Pot,
Or watch the Door, upon Occasion,
Whilst Mother's at her Occupation,
Dealing to some young Cull above,
Twelve Pen'worth of her Lustful Love.
Were nicely made of blew Saloon,
Which had long since, without a Joke,
Lin'd some Lord's Coach-Man's Liv'ry Cloak,
which, thro' some botching Fool's Assistance,
Look'd most Refulgent at a Distance,
Embroider'd round with fine gilt Leather,
Or Tinsey pink'd, I know not whether;
19
That made her glitter like an Angel;
In which the scornful Gipsy trod
As stiff, as stately, and as proud,
As Dutchess at a Queen's Cor'nation,
Or Lord Mayor's Horse in Grand Procession.
Her Train, from her posterior Grope-hole,
Was full as long as any Hop-pole,
Born by two Pages up, well known
To be both Bastards of her own,
Being either big enough to trot
For Quartan, or for Ale-House Pot,
Or watch the Door, upon Occasion,
Whilst Mother's at her Occupation,
Dealing to some young Cull above,
Twelve Pen'worth of her Lustful Love.
Next came a Pack of mincing Jades,
Attending as her Grace's Maids
Of Honour, tho' alas! the Title
Avail'd the Baggages but little;
For when their waiting Hours were done,
Then, as you were, Whores ev'ry one.
Attending as her Grace's Maids
Of Honour, tho' alas! the Title
Avail'd the Baggages but little;
20
Then, as you were, Whores ev'ry one.
Behind these, came two Bully Hecks,
With feather'd Cock'd up Cordebecks,
In Piss-burnt Wigs, and tawdry Dresses,
Made fine with tatter'd Copper Laces,
From Skirts and Sleeves about the Edges,
Hanging like Sheeps Wooll torn by Hedges:
These were in Sight of the Beholders,
To Fight in Jest, like Train-band Soldiers,
'Till one was Slain by Dint of Tilt,
Without one Drop of Blood being spilt.
With feather'd Cock'd up Cordebecks,
In Piss-burnt Wigs, and tawdry Dresses,
Made fine with tatter'd Copper Laces,
From Skirts and Sleeves about the Edges,
Hanging like Sheeps Wooll torn by Hedges:
These were in Sight of the Beholders,
To Fight in Jest, like Train-band Soldiers,
'Till one was Slain by Dint of Tilt,
Without one Drop of Blood being spilt.
Next these, there came two cringing Beaus,
Ordain'd by th' Poet, I suppose,
To represent a fawning Sort
Of Flatt'rers that attend a Court;
Who were to humour in the Droll,
King Bounce, and his imperious Trull.
Ordain'd by th' Poet, I suppose,
To represent a fawning Sort
Of Flatt'rers that attend a Court;
Who were to humour in the Droll,
King Bounce, and his imperious Trull.
Thrones must have Sycophants about 'em,
Alas! there's nothing done without 'em.
Alas! there's nothing done without 'em.
21
The rest were sneaking Pimps and Slatterns,
From Tower-Hill, Wapping, and St. Kather'ns,
Who look'd as if they were, within,
To act the same they'd always been;
Thus play the Parts of Rogues and Whores,
And never change their Characters;
For true low Comedy best suits
A stroling Pack of Knaves and Sluts:
For she that is a Jilting Jade
By Education and by Trade,
Must needs to great Perfection play
The Part she studies ev'ry Day.
So he that's Roguish in his Heart,
Must well perform a Villain's Part,
Because it is his constant Pains,
To practise what we think he feigns.
But when a Scoundrel represents
A Valiant and a Vertuous Prince,
The huffing, strutting, silly Cur
Does so confound the Character,
And Vertue does so lamely shew,
'Twould make a skilful Audience Spew:
But when old Smithfield undertakes
To shew us Drunkards, Whores, or Rakes,
They play their Pranks so wond'rous well,
That they the Theatre excel;
Because we see in ev'ry Part,
Their own true Nature, void of Art:
But if they're rais'd above their Sphere,
And in Majestick Robes appear,
Their Heroes they like Bullies paint,
And make the Devil of a Saint;
Whilst R---s Slaves, or C---s Fools,
Well skill'd in old Dramatick Rules
Can alter both their Meins and Phizes,
Screw up to Kings, or sink to Niseys,
And be whate'er the Poet pleases.
From Tower-Hill, Wapping, and St. Kather'ns,
Who look'd as if they were, within,
To act the same they'd always been;
Thus play the Parts of Rogues and Whores,
And never change their Characters;
For true low Comedy best suits
A stroling Pack of Knaves and Sluts:
For she that is a Jilting Jade
By Education and by Trade,
Must needs to great Perfection play
The Part she studies ev'ry Day.
So he that's Roguish in his Heart,
Must well perform a Villain's Part,
Because it is his constant Pains,
To practise what we think he feigns.
But when a Scoundrel represents
A Valiant and a Vertuous Prince,
The huffing, strutting, silly Cur
Does so confound the Character,
22
'Twould make a skilful Audience Spew:
But when old Smithfield undertakes
To shew us Drunkards, Whores, or Rakes,
They play their Pranks so wond'rous well,
That they the Theatre excel;
Because we see in ev'ry Part,
Their own true Nature, void of Art:
But if they're rais'd above their Sphere,
And in Majestick Robes appear,
Their Heroes they like Bullies paint,
And make the Devil of a Saint;
Whilst R---s Slaves, or C---s Fools,
Well skill'd in old Dramatick Rules
Can alter both their Meins and Phizes,
Screw up to Kings, or sink to Niseys,
And be whate'er the Poet pleases.
Behind the strutting Train, appears
A hung'ry Guard of Halbertiers,
Old, Crasy, Spindle-shank'd, and Tall,
Long Nos'd, thin Jaw'd, and Pale withall,
Looking, with Eyes sunk into Sockets,
Like Ghosts dress'd up in Yeomens Jackets.
These were the ill-look'd Guard du Cor'
To Majesty, stalk'd on before,
In all the Risques the Hero run
Of Bayliff, Press-Gang, or of Dun;
Three Dangers, which his Royal Person
Ne'er car'd to Face, but turn'd his Arse on,
Lest th' Actions of such wicked Men
Should put a Period to his Reign;
For should they lay vile Hands upon him,
They'd first most shamefully Dethrone him,
Disrobe him next, and after Bone him.
A hung'ry Guard of Halbertiers,
23
Long Nos'd, thin Jaw'd, and Pale withall,
Looking, with Eyes sunk into Sockets,
Like Ghosts dress'd up in Yeomens Jackets.
These were the ill-look'd Guard du Cor'
To Majesty, stalk'd on before,
In all the Risques the Hero run
Of Bayliff, Press-Gang, or of Dun;
Three Dangers, which his Royal Person
Ne'er car'd to Face, but turn'd his Arse on,
Lest th' Actions of such wicked Men
Should put a Period to his Reign;
For should they lay vile Hands upon him,
They'd first most shamefully Dethrone him,
Disrobe him next, and after Bone him.
The Hero thus, with painful Struts,
Led up his tawdry Knaves and Sluts,
Mix'd to improve the pompous Show,
With here and there a Rakish Beau,
Attended, as before you've heard,
With an old Candle-Snuffing Guard:
All moving, to allure the Eye,
In a long Train, as Wild Geese fly;
Each strutting Ape, and jutting Strumpet,
Stepping in Consort with the Trumpet:
To add to whose Bellonian Sound,
A Drum was beaten on the Ground,
By an old Red-Coat tatter'd Scrub,
To imitate the Kettle Dub;
From whose inspiring Tub-like Tone,
The Bully seated on his Throne,
Might fancy 'mself to be the Thing
He represented, that's a King.
Led up his tawdry Knaves and Sluts,
Mix'd to improve the pompous Show,
With here and there a Rakish Beau,
24
With an old Candle-Snuffing Guard:
All moving, to allure the Eye,
In a long Train, as Wild Geese fly;
Each strutting Ape, and jutting Strumpet,
Stepping in Consort with the Trumpet:
To add to whose Bellonian Sound,
A Drum was beaten on the Ground,
By an old Red-Coat tatter'd Scrub,
To imitate the Kettle Dub;
From whose inspiring Tub-like Tone,
The Bully seated on his Throne,
Might fancy 'mself to be the Thing
He represented, that's a King.
Thus in their Pomp I left the stroling
Prepost'rous Mimicks to their Fooling,
Squeezing along the Fair, to please
My self with some new Rarities.
Prepost'rous Mimicks to their Fooling,
Squeezing along the Fair, to please
My self with some new Rarities.
At length I made another Stop,
To view the Dancers of the Rope;
Fond to oblige my wand'ring Eyes
With Lady Betty's Legs and Thighs,
Exempt from any wicked Thought
Of Love's inviting Beauty-Spot,
Because, tho' am'rous, 'twas obscene,
To think of what was plac'd between:
Tho', when a Youth beholds the Punks,
In their alluring Smocks and Trunks,
I must confess, 'twould be no Wonder
For him to covet what was under.
To view the Dancers of the Rope;
25
With Lady Betty's Legs and Thighs,
Exempt from any wicked Thought
Of Love's inviting Beauty-Spot,
Because, tho' am'rous, 'twas obscene,
To think of what was plac'd between:
Tho', when a Youth beholds the Punks,
In their alluring Smocks and Trunks,
I must confess, 'twould be no Wonder
For him to covet what was under.
Thought I, this is that Wooden College,
Where Impudence, instead of Knowledge,
Inspires the Buffoon'ry Fool,
Untaught in any other School,
To change his Comical Condition,
And Commence travelling Physician,
Who for one Fortnight in the Year,
Will still his painted Doublet wear;
And all th' eleven Months beside,
Does Quacking round the Country ride,
To kill the Sick, and darken quite
Those Eyes that had but little Sight.
But why should Men with such Derision,
Scoff Merry Andrew turn'd Physician,
Since the learn'd Doctor, bred at School,
Repugnant to the common Rule,
Does Vice versa, oft turn Fool?
Where Impudence, instead of Knowledge,
Inspires the Buffoon'ry Fool,
Untaught in any other School,
To change his Comical Condition,
And Commence travelling Physician,
Who for one Fortnight in the Year,
Will still his painted Doublet wear;
And all th' eleven Months beside,
Does Quacking round the Country ride,
26
Those Eyes that had but little Sight.
But why should Men with such Derision,
Scoff Merry Andrew turn'd Physician,
Since the learn'd Doctor, bred at School,
Repugnant to the common Rule,
Does Vice versa, oft turn Fool?
When I had view'd the Ladies Limbs,
And all their Members, but their Whims;
Nicely examining their Faces,
Set off with Bridewell Charms and Graces,
Out popp'd a Damsel on a suddain,
In Colour like a Hog's black Pudding,
An Ethiopian merry Crack,
With Lady's Legs, but Sampson's Back,
Full Chest, broad Shoulders, Buttocks plump,
So strongly built, from Neck to Rump,
As if a Score of drudging Porters,
Could not have tir'd her strenuous Quarters.
Thought I, this black Infernal Maulkin,
Must needs entice the Mob to walk in,
For who'd not readily advance
A Sice, to see the Devil Dance.
And all their Members, but their Whims;
Nicely examining their Faces,
Set off with Bridewell Charms and Graces,
Out popp'd a Damsel on a suddain,
In Colour like a Hog's black Pudding,
An Ethiopian merry Crack,
With Lady's Legs, but Sampson's Back,
Full Chest, broad Shoulders, Buttocks plump,
So strongly built, from Neck to Rump,
As if a Score of drudging Porters,
Could not have tir'd her strenuous Quarters.
27
Must needs entice the Mob to walk in,
For who'd not readily advance
A Sice, to see the Devil Dance.
The Male Performers Faces were
All stigmatiz'd with such an Air,
No Man could guess but, by their Looks,
Their Fingers must be Fishing-Hooks.
So that had T---r view'd the Vermin,
It would have puzzl'd 'm to determin,
Which by their Phiz'nomy was chief
Of their Degrees, Quack, Fool, or Thief.
One Caperer above the Rest,
In his high-flying Trousers drest,
With Hat squeez'd down upon his Block,
Turn'd up into the Tyburn Cock;
Had something in his Looks external,
So damn'd deceitful and infernal,
That in each Brow was plainly shown,
The Print of what he danc'd upon.
Thought I, if any thing there be
Of Truth in Phiziognomy,
As certain as that Forehead thine is,
So sure will Funis be thy
All stigmatiz'd with such an Air,
No Man could guess but, by their Looks,
Their Fingers must be Fishing-Hooks.
So that had T---r view'd the Vermin,
It would have puzzl'd 'm to determin,
Which by their Phiz'nomy was chief
Of their Degrees, Quack, Fool, or Thief.
One Caperer above the Rest,
In his high-flying Trousers drest,
With Hat squeez'd down upon his Block,
Turn'd up into the Tyburn Cock;
Had something in his Looks external,
So damn'd deceitful and infernal,
That in each Brow was plainly shown,
The Print of what he danc'd upon.
28
Of Truth in Phiziognomy,
As certain as that Forehead thine is,
So sure will Funis be thy
| Hudibras Redivivus | |