5

Like a fantaflic letciler, to be scourg'd;
Nor has it fcap'd, and yet has only learn'd,
The more 'tis plagued, to be the lefs concern'd.
Twice have we feen two dreadful judgmentsrage,
Enough to fright the ftubborn'ft-hearted age;
The one to mow vaft crowds of people down,
The other (as then needlefs) half the Town; 10
And two as mighty miracles reftore
What both had ruin'd and deftroy'd before;
In all as unconcern'd as if they 'ad been
But paftimes for diverfion to be seen,

Or, like the plagues of Egypt, meant a curfe, 15
Not to reclaim us, but to make us worse.
Twice have men turn'd the World (that filly
block head)

The wrong fide outward, like a juggler's pocket,
Shook out hypocrify as faft and boie
As e'er the dev】 could teach, or finners ufe,
And on the other fide at once put in
As impotent iniquity and fin.

20

So, in return, that ftrives to render lefs
The laft delufion, with its own excefs,
And, like two unfkill'd gameiters, ufe one way,
With bungling t' help out one another's play.
For thofe who heretofore fought private holet, 35
Securely in the dark to damn their fouls,
Wore vizards of hypocrify to iteal
And flink away in maiquerade to hell,
Now bring their crimes into the open fun,
For all mankind to gaze their work upon,
As eagles try their young against his rays,
To prove if they 're of generous breed or bafe;
Call heaven and earth to witnefs how they've
aim'd,

42

With all their utmost vigour, to be damn'd,
And by their own examples, in the view
Of all the world, ftriv'd to damn others too;
On all occafions fought to be as civil
As poffible they could t' his grace the Devil,
To give him no unneceffary trouble,
Nor in fmall matters ufe a friend fo noble,
But with their conftant practice done their bei
T'improve and propagate his intereft:
For men have now made vice fo great ar ert,
The matter of fast's become the lightarts
And the debauched it actions they can
Mere trifles to the circumitance and thow.
For 'tis not what they do that's now the La,
But what they lewdly' affect and glory in.
As if prepofteroufly they would profefs
A forc'd hypocrify of wickedness,
And affectation, that makes good things bud,
Muft make affected thame accurs'd and mad;
For vices for themselves may find excufe,
But never for their compliment and thews;
That if there ever were a mystery
Of moral fecular iniquity,

And that the churches may not lose their due
By being incroach'd upon, 'tis now, and new:
For men are now as icrupulous and nice,
And tender-confcienc'd of low paltry vice;
Difdain as proudly to be thought to have
To do in any mifchief but the brave;
As the most fcrupulous zealot of late times
T' appear in any but th' horrid'ft crimes;
Have as precife and ftrict punctilios
Now to appear, as then to make no shows,
And fteer the world, by difagreeing force
Of different customs, 'gainft ner natural cou.fe
So powerful 's ill example to encroach,
And Nature, fpite of all her laws, debarch, S
Example, that imperious dictator,

Of all that's good or bad to mumman nature,
By which the world's corrupted and reclaim'd,
Hopes to be fav'd and studies to be damn`d;
That reconciles all contrarictier,
Makes wifdem foolishnets, and folly wife,
Impoles on divinity, and fets

Her feal alike on truths and counterfeits;
Alters all characters of virtue' and vice,
And paffes one for th' other in disguife;
Makes all things, as it pleafes, underston,
The good receiv'd for bad, and bad for pulj

55

60

63

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n damme at once to curfe, and fwear, and rant! As if no way exprefs'd men's fouls fo well, s damning of them to the pit of hell; for any affeveration were fo civil, as mortgaging falvation to the devil;

ΠΙΟ

Or that his name did add a charming grace,
and blafphemy a purity to our phrafe.
or what can any language more enrich,
Than to pay fouls for viciating fpeech;
When the great'ft tyrant in the world made thofe
But lick their words out that abus'd his profe?
What trivial punishments did then protect 115
To public cenfure a profound respect,
When the most fhameful penance, and fevere,
Ihat could b' inflicted on a Cavalier

or infamous debauchery, was no worfe
Than but to be degraded from his horse,
And have his livery of oats and hay,
tead of cutting fpurs off, tak'n away?
They held no torture then fo great as thame,
And that to flay was less than to defame;
or juft fo much regard as men exprefs
To th' cenfure of the public, more or less
The fame will be return'd to them again,

fhame or reputation, to a grain ;

120

125

130

nd, how perverfe fo'er the world appears. Tis juft to all the bad it fees and hears; And for that virtue ftrives to be allow'd Tor all the injuries it does the good. How filly were their fages heretofore, To fright their heroes with a fyren whore! fake them believe a water-witch, with charms, Could fink their men of war as eafy' as ftorms, and turn their mariners, that heard them fing, to land porpuffes, and cod and ling;

to terrify thofe mighty champions,

s we do children now with Bloody-bones: 140 Intil the fubtleft of their conjurers

ai'd up the labels to his foul, his ears,

and ty'd his deafen'd failors (while he pafs'd he dreadful lady's lodgings) to the maft,

150

nd rather venture drowning than to wrong 145 he fea-pugs' chafte ears with a bawdy fong: to b' out of countenance, and, like an afs, ot pledge the Lady Circe one beer-glafs; mannerly refufe her treat and wine, or fear of being turn'd into a twine, When one of our heroic adventurers now Would drink her down, and turn her int' a fow! So fimple were thofe times, when a grave fage ould with an old-wife's tale inftruct the age, Teach virtue more fantastic ways and nice, 155 han ours will now endure t' improve in vice;

160

170

175

Made a dull fentence, and a moral fable,
Do more than all our holdings-forth are able,
A forc'd obfcure mythology convince,
Beyond our worft inflictions upon fins;
When an old proverb, or an end of verfe,
Could more than all our penal laws coerce,
And keep men honefter than all our furies
Of jailors, judges, conftables, and juries;
Who were converted then with an old faying,
Better than all our preaching now, and praying.
What fops had thefe been, had they liv'd with us,
Where the best reafon 's made ridiculous,
And all the plain and fober things we fay,
By raillery are put befide their play?
For men are grown above all knowledge now,
And what they 're ignorant of difdain to know;
Engrofs truth (like Fanatics) underhand,
And boldly judge before they understand;
The felf-fame courtes equally advance,
In fpiritual and carnal ignorance,
And, by the fame degrees of confidence,
Become impregnable against all fenfe;
For, as they outgrew ordinances then,
So would they now morality again.
Though Drudgery and Knowledge are of kin,
And both defcended from one parent, Sin,
And therefore feldom have been known to part,
In tracing out the ways of Truth and Art,
Yet they have north-weit paffages to steer, 185
A fhort way to it, without pains or care:
For, as implicit faith is far more stiff
Than that which understands its own belief,
So thofe that think, and do but think they know,
Are far more obftinate than those that do,
And more averfe than if they 'ad ne'er been taught
A wrong way, to a right one to be brought;
Take boldnefs upon credit beforehand,
And grow too pofitive to understand;
Believe themselves as knowing and as famous,
As if their gifs had gotten a mandamus,
A bill of ftore to take up a degree,
With all the learning to it, cuitom-free,
And look as big for what they bought at Court,
As if they 'ad done their exercises for 't.

180

ΙΠΟ

196

200

THAT fool would trouble fortune more, When the has been too kind before; Or tempt her to take back again What the had thrown away in vain, By idly venturing her good graces To be difpos'd of by ames-aces; Or fettling it in truft to ufes Out of his power, on trays and deuces;

5

To put it to the chance, and try,
I'th' ballot of a box and dye,
Whether his money be his own,
And lofe it, if he be o'erthrown;
As if he were betray'd, and fet
By his own ftars to every cheat,
Or wretchedly condemn'd by Fate
To throw dice for his own eftate;
As mutineers, by fatal doom,
Do for their lives upon a drum?
For what lefs influence can produce
So great a mo after as a choufe,
Or any two-legg'd thing poffets
With fuch a bruitih fottifhneis?
Unless thofe tutelary stars,
Intrusted by aftrologers,

To have the charge of man, combin'd
To ufe him in the felf-fame kind;

As thofe that help'd them to the trust,
Are wont to deal with others juft.
For to become fo fadly dull
And ftupid, as to fine for gull
(Not, as in cities, to b' excus'd,
But to be judg'd fit to be us'd),
That whofoe'er can draw it in
Is fure inevitably t' win,

And, with a curs'd half-witted fate,
To grow more daily defperate,

The more 'tis made a common prey,
And cheated foppifhly at play,
Is their condition; Fate betrays

10

15

20

While those with which he idly plays
Have no regard to what he fays,
Although he genie and blafpheme,
Wn they mitiorry, beaven and them,
And damn his foul, and fwear, and curie,
And crucif his Saviour wolle

Than thote jew-troopers that threw out,
When they were railing for his coat;
Denounce revenge, as if they heard,
And rightly understood and fear'd,
And would take heed another time,
How to commit fo boi! a crime;
When the poor bones are innocent
Of all he did. or faid, or meant,
And ave as little fenfe, almoft,
As he that damns them when he 'as loft;
25 As if he had rely'd upon

Their judgment rather than his own;
And that it were their fault, not his,
That manag'd them himself amifs,
And gave them ill inftructions how
30 To run, as he would have them do,
And then condemns them filily
For having no more wit than he?

(Where there's no quarter given) in battles,

And fights with money-bags as bold,

45

As men with fand-bags did of old;

Puts lands, and tenements, and stocks, Into a paltry juggler's box;

And, like an alderman of Gotham,

Than they had fafely' infor'd before;

Who, when they knock the box, and shake,
Do, like the Indian rattle-fake,

But strive to ruin and destroy
Thofe that mistake it for fair play;
That have their fulhams at command,
Brought up to do their fears at hand;
That understand the r calls and knocks,
And how to place themfelves i' th' box;
Can tell the oddfes of all games,
And when to antwer to their names;
And, when he conjures them t' appear,
Like imps, are ready every where;
When to play foul, and when run fair
(Out of defign) upon the fquare,
And let the greedy cully win,
Only to draw him further in;

REAT famous wit! whofe rich and caly re
Free, and unus'd to drudgery and pain,
Has all Apollo's treasure at command,
And how good verfe is coin'd do'it understand:
In all Wit's combats matter of defence!
Tell me, how doft thou pafs on rhyme and fen?*
'Tis faid they' apply to thee, and in thy vert
Do freely ranget emfelves as volunteers,
And without pain, or pumping for a word,
Place themselves fitly of their own accord.
I, whom a loud caprich (for fome great crime
I have committed) has condemn'd to rhyme,
With flavifh obftinacy vex my brain

To reconcile them, but, alas! in vain.
Sometimes I ict my wits upon the rack,
And, when I would fay white, the verfet

black;

In fine, whate'er I strive to bring about,
The contrary ((pite of my heart) comes out."
Sometimes, enrag'd for time and pains mifpent,
I give it over, tir'd, and difcontent,

26

30

And, damning the dull fiend a thousand times,
By whom I was poffefs'd, forfwear all rhymes;
But, having curs'd the Mufes, they appear,
To be reveng'd for 't, ere I am aware.
Spite of myself, I ftrait take fire again,
Fall to my talk with paper, ink, and pen,
And, breaking all the oaths I made, in vain
From verfe to verfe expect their aid again.
But, if my mufe or I were fo difcreet
T'endure, for rhyme's fake, one dull epithet,
I might, like others, eafily command
Words without ftudy, ready and at hand.
In praifing Chloris, moons, and ftars, and skies,
Are quickly made to match her face and eyes--
And gold and rubies, with as little care,
To fit the colour of her lips and hair;

35

41

And, mixing funs, and flowers, and pearl, and

ftones,

Make them ferve all complexions at once.

50

With thefe fine fancies, at hap-hazard writ, 45
I could make vertes without art or wit,
And, fhifting forty times the verb and noun,
With itol'n impertinence patch up mine own:
But in the choice of words my fcrupulous wit
Is fearful to pafs one that is unfit;
Nor can endure to fill up a void place,
At a line's end, with one infipid phrafe;
And, therefore, when I fcribble twenty times,
When I have written four, I blot two rhymes.
May he be damn'd who first found out that curfe,
I' imprison and confine his thoughts in verfe;
To hang fo dull a clog upon his wit,
And make his reafon to his rhyme fubmit!
Without this plague, I freely might have spent
My happy days with leifure and content;
Had nothing in the world to do or think,

60

ke a fat prieft, but whore, and eat, and drink; Had paft my time as pleasantly away, slept all the night, and loiter'd all the day. My foul, that's free from care, and fear, and hope,

Knows how to make her own ambition stoop, 'avoid uneafy greatness and refort,

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Or for preferment following the Court. How happy had I been if, for a curfe, The Fates had never fentenc'd me to verfe! But, ever fince this peremptory vein, With reftiefs frenzy, firft poffefs'd my brain, And that the devil tempted me, in ipite of my own happinet, to judge and write, hut up againft my will, I waite my age mending this, and blotting out that page, And grow fo weary of the flavish trade, envy their condition that write bad. happy Scudery! whofe cafy quill Can, once a month, a mighty volume fill; For, though thy works are written in defpite Of all good fenfe, impertinent and flight, They never have been known to ftand in need Of itationer to fell, or for to read;

VOL. II.

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90

For, fo the rhyme be at the verfe's end,
No matter whither all the reft does tend.
Unhappy is that man who, fpite of 's heart,
Is fore'd to be ty'd up to rules of art.
A fop that fcribbles does it with delight,
Takes no pains to confider what to write,
But, fond of all the nonfenfe he brings forth,
Is ravish'd with his own great wit and worth;
While brave and noble writers vainly strive
To fuch a height of glory to arrive;
But, fill with all they do unfatisfy'd,
Ne'er pleate themselves, though all the world be-
fide:

95

And thofe whom all mankind admire for wit, With, for their own fakes, they had never writ. Thou, then, that feeft how ill I spend my time, Teach me, for pity, how to make a rhyme; 100 And, if th' inftructions chance to prove in vain, Teach how ne'er to write again.

SATIRE

ON OUR

RIDICULOUS IMITATION OF THE FRENCH.

Or iteer his paffage through thofe feas
That burn in flames, or thofe that freeze,
Than fee one nation go to fchool,
And learn of another, like a fool?
To ftudy all its tricks and fashions
With epidemic affectations,

And dare to wear no mode or drefs,
But what they in their wiflom please;
As monkies are, by being taught
To put on gloves and ftockings, caught;
Submit to all that they devife,
As if it wore their liveries;
Make ready' and drefs th' imagination,
Not with the clothes, but with the fathion;
And change it, to fulfil the curfe

Of Adam's fall, for new, though worse;
To make their breeches fall and rife
From middle legs to middle thighs,
The tropics between which the hofe
Move always as the fashion goes:
Sometimes wear hats like pyramids,
And fometimes fat, like pipkins' lids;

30

Like puppets, by their rules of art;
Fo fhrug difcreetly, act, and tread,
And politicly shake the head,
Until the ignorant (that guess
At all things by th' appearances)
To fee how Art and Nature ftrive,
Believe them really alive,

And that they 're very men, not things
That move by puppet-work and fprings;
When truly all their feats have been
As well perf. rm'd by motion-men,
And the wo ft drolls of Punchinellos
Were much th' ingenioufer fellows;
For, when they 're perfect in their leffon,
Th' hypothefis grows out of season,
And, all their labour loft, they're fain
To learn new, and begin again;

To talk eternally and loud,

And all together in a crowd,

No matter what; for in the noise
No man minds what another fays;
T' affume a confidence beyond
Mankind, for folid and profound,
And ftill, the lefs and lefs they know,
The greater dofe of that allow:
Decry all things; for to be wife
Is not to know, but to defpife;
And deep judicious confidence
Has ftill the odds of wit and fenfe,
And can pretend a title to

Far greater things than they can do:
T' adorn their English with French fcraps,
And give their very language claps;
To jernie rightly, and renounce
I' th' pure and most approv'd-of tones,
And, while they idly think t' enrich,
Adulterate their native fpeech:

For, though to fmatter ends of Greek
Or Latin be the rhetorique

Of pedants counted, and vain-glorious,
To imatter French is meritorious;

As woodcocks, when their plumes are grown, Borne on the wind's wings and their own,

Forfake the countries where they 're hatch'd,

And feek out others to be catch'd:

So they more naturally may pleafe,

75

And humour their own geniufes,

Apply to all things which they fee

With their own fancies beft agree;
No matter how ridiculous,
'Tis all one, if it be in ufe;
For nothing can be bad or good,

DRUNKEN NESS.

IS pity wine, which Nature meant To man in kindness to prefent,