Poems in burlesque with a dedication in burlesque to Fleetwood Shepherd, esquire. Dennis, John, 1657-1734. 1692 Approx. 34 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 16 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2005-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A35676 Wing D1039 ESTC R15058 11719799 ocm 11719799 48329 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A35676) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 48329) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 528:15) Poems in burlesque with a dedication in burlesque to Fleetwood Shepherd, esquire. Dennis, John, 1657-1734. [8], 22 p. Printed for the Booksellers ..., [London] : 1692. Attributed to John Dennis. Cf. BLC. Errata slip mounted on verso of t.p. Reproduction of original in Cambridge University Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO. EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org). The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source. Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data. Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so. Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor. The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines. Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700. 2003-05 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-05 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2005-03 Emma (Leeson) Huber Sampled and proofread 2005-03 Emma (Leeson) Huber Text and markup reviewed and edited 2005-04 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion POEMS In BURLESQUE ; WITH A DEDICATION In BURLESQUE , TO Fleetwood Shepherd , ESQUIRE . Cui bene ni palpere recalcitrat undique tutus . Hor. Printed for the Booksellers of London and Westminster , 1692. ERRATA . IN Pag. 9. the last line , for Butterflowers , read , Butterflies . In Pag. 14. line 19. for Caves , read , Cliffs . In Pag. 17. beginning of the last line , for with , read Will. In Pag. 19. line 9 ▪ for form read , from TO FLEETWOOD SHEPHERD , Esqque SIR , IF Verse but vocal Painting be , As Painting is dumb Poetry ; A Dedication in Burlesque In vocal Painting is grotesque For was there ever Dedication Without some fulsome Commendation ? And has not all Burlesque its Birth , And afterwards its Name from Mirth ? Now to Commend at once and rally , Are things which either will not Tally ; Or Mirth with Praise will look as odly , As Rakels when by chance they 'r Godly : Though , Shepherd , it requires Address , Thy Praise in Laughing to express , I 'll boldly venture ne're the less . May the Propitious Comick Muse , Burlesque Conceits , and Terms infuse ; And thou , O jolly God of Laughter Attend , and usher down Jove's Daughter ; And both inspire and grace the Verse , Which for your Shepherd I rehearse . Can you do less for him , when he Has been your constant Votary ? He ner'e lies down , and never rises , But still to you he Sacrifices , He Sacrifices Man and Beast , The Lay-man and the very Priest : For still his Victims by sixt Rules Each Morn are Knaves , each Evening Fools , By him with pointed Wit dissected , To all laid open and detected , For animals of rotten insides , Or who have strange prodigious blindsides : And though the Sacrifice is found Still thus defective and unsound , The Victims wanting Noble parts , Their Brains sometimes , sometimes their Hearts , 'T is therefore , Shepherd , does them chuse , For such he knows you least refuse . He ner'e gave Gods or Men offence , By off'ring to you Truth and Sense , For those he uses to defend A Wit , a Courtier , yet a Friend . But now stop short in thy Career , That this may be rejected Fear ; For er'e since Praise hath been a Traffick A Panegyrick's not worth a Fig , It may be had with a full Pocket By ev'ry pert and noisie Blockhead , Whose Cloaths and Talk are render'd Tawdry By nasty Colours and by bawdry . Then Shepherd , farewel Commendation Now by the Law of Dedication , ( The Author 's just Retaliation ) Since I have spoke so much of thee Thou must hear something too of me . 'T was I who Sung our brave Tarpawlin , Engaging like a Devil bawling , And Monsieurs Navy sorely mawling , * His Formidable , his Victorious , His Proud , his Thunderer , his Glorious , His Strong , his Terrible , his Fierce , ( Strange names for Butlers jolly Verse ! ) Till ev'ry Ship with its great Name , By being Clapperclaw'd became An Irony and Jest of Fame . Ah , Bully Tar ! could that be Civil To use poor Monsieur like a Devil ? Poor Monsieur ! who with Pains exceeding Had try'd so long to teach thee breeding To beat his Brains out ! ah ! to crop him Shorter by ' th' Head , or else to lop him , And not to leave him Limbs enow , Ah Gods ! to make one jaunty Bow ? And then to set his First Rateson Fire To serve thee for a Roguish Bonfire ! To Mawl the rest , their Rigging tear , And leave them destitute and bare ! Que Diable des gens Barbares ! Or was this bustle and this fight-all Design'd and acted in requital Of Monsieurs pains , that as at Land He made thee Breeding understand , Thou mights't at Sea take him in hand ? And bring him by a lusty Swindging To low Saluting and to Cringing , If so ; how great 's th' extent and Latitude O Bully Tar , of thy Sea-Gratitude ! This Fight , as 't is to thee well known I 've Sung in quite another Tone : Now dwindling I resume the Battle Wag'd once betwixt Suburbian Cattle . Thus does a Falcon soaring rise , And at some noble Quarry flies , But stoops , when it can fly no more , At Carrion , which it left before . This Battle Read too , and the while If thou approv'st it , Shepherd , Smile . But though thou lik'st it , Laugh not out , For all the Versifying Rout , A bold and a presuming Nation , If once they know thy Approbation , Will mawl thee with perpetual Billets , And pelt thee with Poetick Pellets , Send thee more Scrawls , more various Pothooks , Than are i' th' Letter-Case of M — Thou wilt on ev'ry hand be pepper'd , For all who Write would fain please Shepherd : Nay , to take his , and Dorset's Heart The Nine their utmost Charms exert , Their Charms of Nature and of Art. Whilst by their Looks , their Air , their Dress , They to the wond'ring World no less Than Virgin-Goddesses confess ; What they aspire to by their Charms Is to be bless'd in Dorset's Arms : Pleas'd , ravish'd with his Approbation , Tho Damn'd by all the Fools i' th' Nation . Now for one Compliment in Rhime . And so t' have done , for 't is high time . There 's , no Man more Your Humble , than is , SIR , Your Obedient Servant , THE CONTENTS . THE Triumvirate : Or the Battle . p. 1. A Days Ramble in Covent-Garden : A Letter in Burlesque , &c. p. 9. The Story of Orpheus Burlesqu'd . p. 14. Epigram upon a lewd Roaring Scotch Parson . p. 17. Vpon the same Burlesque . p. 18. The Two FRIENDS . p. 19. An Explication of Mr. Tate's Riddle , in the Gentleman's Journal for April . p. 21. The Triumvirate : OR , THE BATTLE . Written Aug. 91. AS when the Ugly Face of Night , The Sun does to the Ocean fright , Neptune and Proteus , with their Train , The merry Monsters of the Main , The Red-fac'd God Carrowsing meet , And with large Draughts his Presence greet ; Like Luck does at like Hours attend His Deputy at Br — k-street-End : To whom three strange prodigious Creatures , And Monsters of Amphibious Natures , Half Beasts , half Fish , together hie , Who though on Land they often lie , Yet are they never throughly dry , And when they cease to drink , they dy ; Like Whales , their Bulks a Flood contain , Which in the Air they Spout again ; They swallow still like Fish , ( to keep The Allegory ) whilst they sleep , Each gulps his Beer-glass , and i' th' fact With drowsie Nod commends the Act. Me an Acquaintance did invite , This Bartholomew-Fair to see the Sight , And just at Twelve we went one Night , Where there were stranger Creatures shown , Than ever at the Fair were known ; And if you think I say too much , Survey their Pictures here and judge , The first , hight Robin , a queir Spark is , A lewd Soul with a righteous Carkass . Virgin Vermillion , or True Blue , Is not of such a Saint-like hue , He Baudy talk'd with the same Faces , With the same Goggles , Whines , Grimaces , That our Enlightned Men say Graces . They who sat at th' end of the Table , Took him for Holderforth right able , And look'd with Reverence on his Visage Too grave and antique far , for this Age , To those he seem'd a Gifted Teacher , To us who heard him a rank Letcher . So Parson Hugh , with Groan and Snivel Made half his Congregation drivel , Whilst B — s set to show did tickle The other half o' th' Conventicle . This Fellow chatter'd thus uncleanly With the same Looks Folk act obseenely . When Nature conscious of a Sin , So unworthy of her , and so mean , In height of Exstacy is seen , With ugly Penitential Meen ; So much for Saint , the next's an Atheist , Who for his Morals held it safest : He bragg'd , that he like Beasts should dy , And did both God and Devil deny , As Boys a days , when Succours nigh Can Rawhead Rally and defy , That Rawhead who with panick Frights , Ne're fails to make them stink a Nights , So does this wight the Devil disown , And haunted by him , when alone , Does in Revenge from 's Chamber run , To swear there 's no such thing at th' Sun , Yet does so stare whilst he denys him , That one would almost swear he spies him , Though as for Staring his Pretence is To look about for his lost Senses : His hagard Eyes , and fiery Face , Both are his Hoary Head's disgrace ; Nature ne're join'd a lewder Phys. To such a Reverend Skull as his . So on some Hills perpetual Snow Lyes , whilst the Vine buds just below , He Urgin Ned , and Saint-like Robin , To leave off Stumming for dry Bobbing , Did kiss and chatter too , and hug , A little nasty Female Pug , Who being Offensive to the Nose Is by Antiphrasis call'd Rose . His fiery Snout slopt her 's that Sallow , Like Flame that Lambent lies on Tallow , Which did all four to a Course dispose , And two Drabs more , being fetch'd by Rose , They mount and box about their Lasses , Like Lombards riding Post on Asses . When see the sad Reverse of Fate , Of happiest Mortals the frail State , Robin for Gold the root of Evil Had made a Contract with the Devil ; That is , had Married a curst Wife , That Hellish Plague of human Life . She having notice of Bob's Doxy , And fuming much at such a Proxy , Came thundering in , and took her Vagrant , Ipso Facto , in Guilt that 's flagrant : Judge what Impression this injurious Action made on one so furious , The Drabs as soon as e're they spy'd her , Threw every one of them her Rider , Starting like Jades , that cast their Load , If once the Devil comes cross the Road. When strait advancing to her Moiety ; Sweet Sir , said she , I wish much Joy to you , And your new Bride , a wish that 's due To one so Kind and Just as you . With that Sh' unmercifully fisted Poor sneaking Bob , who ne're resisted . Ay me ! how chang'd ! he 's he no more , Wh ' Engag'd so bravely just before ; But differs as victorious Hector Did from his pale and bloody Spectre , When Brutal Ned to help his Fellow , With all his Lungs began to Bellow . Old Bob , quoth he , Old Bob so doughty , Wilt thou be Cow'd by by such a Dowdy ? Take Crab-tree here Old Boy , and Bast her , Until she owns her Lord and Master . Vile Sot said she to Ned , but such A Title honors thee too much ; For Sot supposes somthing Human , Thou art a Bear , not born of Woman ; Tom Dove thy Sire was , and another Furr'd Muscovite like him , thy Mother , Who having Cubb'd thee from her kick'd thee ( Seeing thee so hideous ) and ne'er lick'd thee : What do'st thou here now , where few venter , Till of thy Absence sure , to enter ? For Men a Nights ne'er see thee Sup , But what they 've eat themselves , comes up , Whilst thou devouring meat , dost cram it More nauseously than they theirs Vomit : Why should Beasts love Debauches , fit Only for Men , and Men of Wit ? Whom Wine inspires with Noble Sense , That can a Surfeit recompence , Who in their Qualms a Breeding lye Children that live to Eternity : But thou a despicable Toper , Art still Ned V — Drunk and Sober ; Diff'ring as Wild Bears do from Tame , More fiercely Brutal , else the same ; Perhaps incapable of thinking Thou striv'st to shew thou' rt Man by Drinking , For void of of Reason and of Goodness , Thou 'st nought that 's Human but thy Lewdness . Spouse being resolv'd to be severe , Was running on in full career , When urg'd by his fermenting Choler , Ned threw a pot of Port to maul her ; The Wine fell on her as she Buckled , The Pot flew o're to swinge her Cuckold , And hitting full his Jobbernoll , Broke op'n the Lodging of his Soul ; The Walls to its furious Battry yielding , The Mansion was but Paper-Building ; A wretched Tenement , a Shed That never had been Furnished , Purely design'd for one to keep in 't That would do nothing else but sleep in 't ; And that was Robin's dreaming Soul , Which spying in its House this hole , Had frighted , like to have left its Quarters , Enrolling Bob amongst the Martyrs . Spouse who by death of Moiety Thought she had lost her Property , Tho she retriev'd her Liberty , Took up a pot of Chamber-lye And Wine at second hand , a Medly , Of odious hue and Savour deadly , And coming slily behind Ned , Now raising Robin from the Dead , Fixt it like Armour on his Head , Whilst running down on every side him , It s foul Contents did strangely dight him ; Its Fumes cast Ned into a Swound , His Armour clang'd against the Ground ; Mean while his brave Virago fully Determin'd to revenge her Bully , Took two great Candlesticks and aim'd Two Mortal Blows at Spouse , but Maim'd The Atheist ; who in his Affliction , Gave us his usual Benediction ; For tho he God sometimes denies , Now fervently he to him crys , And prays with unfeign'd Supplication And hearty zeal for the Damnation Of the Militant Congregation ; Nay , against such a riotous Rout , Himself to the Devil gave Judgment out , When Rose to revenge her Roysters Quarrel , Amongst us all threw an Oister-Barrel , And flung it too with a resolution To bring his Judgment to Execution ; Its clattering shels amongst us fall , Signal of universal Brawl ; Then to the Table Atheist blunder'd , Himself Intrenching strongly under 't , For by the noise he thought it Thunder'd , For Discord now outrageous grew , Bottles in rattling Vollies flew ; Of Arms which range now finds for Mischief , O Times ! O Manners ! Bottle is Chief , Souls outside Clapperclawing more , Than inward Jobbernol before : Bottle in Fellowship Men uniting And fram'd for the World to take delight in . Now the curs'd Instrument's made of Fighting , And Sots are just about to Perish , By what was purely form'd to Cherish ; A Glassy Shower does ore us hail , And Potts succed when Bottles fail . I dopt for safety as an Officer Does in a Fight , when he 's a Novice there , When with strange noise and hideous bustle In closer Fight they encountring Justle , Their Wits they lose , their Light 's put out , All 's dark within them and without : Then Friend fell foul on every Friend , Such Fate does Civil Wars attend . Wild Uproar and Confusion follow'd , Ore roling Bully Doxy wallow'd ; She Schrick'd , he Roar'd , for Light some hollow'd , In vain alas ! Drawer was fast , Gentle Aurora heard at last . I by the dawn found out the the Door , Then down I ran and firmly Swore Never to mix with Monsters more . A Days Ramble in Covent-Garden : A Letter in Burlesque to C. D. March 20. 1691. COlonel , the Spring comes on a main , Beauties and Flow'rs peep out again ; Now gawdy Punk , new Rigg'd and gay , As Beaux or Butter-flowers in May , Brisk as a Snake that casts her Skin Comes out in particolour'd trim , To bask on flowry Banks , and play In the new Suns reviving Ray , To twine round heedlless Swain , and sting The VVretch suspecting no such thing . Now Country ' Squires send up their Women To get their own and Husbands Trimming ; ( By which themselves these latter find Fairly distinguish'd from Mankind ) And to requite them we send down Verse , the lewd product of the Town : Amongst ' the rest , for want of better , I send you these by way of Letter . Last week just come to Town , I took A Pious walk to visit C — Pox'd beyond hope of Health or Pardon The rankest VVeed in Covent-Garden , That done , I took a turn i' th' Square , But had but little time been there , Till I with Satisfaction found , The VVorld still ran its constant round , There still a Drum each Morning brings Sev'ral feather'd two Legg'd things , Not Men , you say , you 'll prove by Plato , Not Men indeed so wise as Cato . But VVights , whose Noddles and a Feather Agree extremely well together . Light , wavering , vain Inconstant Fools , The working Politicians Tools , VVh ' engage and serve like Whores for pay , And sometimes Jilt too , and betray : Hurried by Drums , tumultuous rattle , At States-mans will to breach or battle ; Leave Bottle , Tent , and Camping Jade , And blundring run where Fate has laid Inevitable Ambuscade . So when some Swain for Sport or Food , Brushes the out-side of a VVood : And with cleft Sticks makes clatt'ring din , Woodcock that nuzling lies within , Strait scampers headlong on to gin : But hark the Bell , the Parsons Trumpet , Sounds a Charge to a Ghostly Combat ; VVarns Sporting Female to arise T' a sadder Mornings Exercise : She does , and washes first , and Paints well , Then piously Obeys the Saints Bell : And now 't is time to leave the Stout , And join at Church with the Devout , VVhere Virgins Counterfeit and Stale , Are daily in Rows expos'd to Sale. Second-hand Houshold-stuff , which tarnish'd , To pass for new is vamp'd and Varnish'd . The ancient Temple of the Jews VVas but a Mart , ours is a S — He thence was driv'n who sold a Dove , We suffer here the trade of Love. From Church I went to drink some Coffee , The Juice inspiring Modern Sophy ; For as some rural Swains of Old , ( As by their own Records wer'e told ) Tasted of Pagasean Stream , And then grew Poets in a Dream ; So Sots sip Coffee , and have Visions , Which make them pass for Polititians . To Wills I went , where Beau and VVit In mutual Contemplation sit ; But which were VVits , and which were Beaus , The Devil sure 's in him who Knows , For either may be which you please , These looks like those who talk'd like these : To make amends , there I saw Dryden , VVhom Pegasus takes so much Pride in , He suffers few beside to ride him : Somtimes at once he gets a Pack Of young raw Rhymers on his Back , But with them runs so far away , They 're never hear'd of from that day : Enrag'd he th' awkward Burden feels , Tosses his Head and flings his Heels . And when h' has thrown each Poetaster , He then comes Ambling home to his Master . Since my design in sending these , Is not to tire you , but to please , 'T is time t' have done , for what 's behind , Some more commodious hour I 'll find ; Yet e'er I leave you , I can't chuse But send you down the Freshest News . When Monsieur spy'd false Burgher hamper'd In fatal Noose on Mons's Rampert , He and his Forty thousand Scamper'd . As Scythian Slaves that came to fight With Swords , with Whips were put to Flight . The sight of tall erected Gallows Had like effect upon these Fellows . A certain Sign that every Villain Fears Hanging , tho he Laughs at Killing . But now to come to honest People , C — s grown as noisey as a Steeple ; Does so obstrepreously Gabblle I' th' dark , you 'd swear he 's a huge Rabble ; Haranguing Member is not near So loud , yet bauls for half a Shire ; Nor Serjeants when like VVinds that jar , Coifd Brothers make tempesteous VVar , And ne'er leave storming till they find Justice grown Deafer than She 's Blind . The Story of Orpheus Burlesqu'd . ORpheus , a one-ey'd Limping Thracian , Top Crowder of the Barbarous Nation Was Ballad-Singer by Vocation ; Who up and down the Country strowling , And with his Strains the Mob Cajoling ; Charm'd them as much as all Men know Our modern Farces do a Beau , To hear his Voice they left their Houses , Their Food , their Handicrafts and Spouses , VVhilst by the Harmony of his Song He threw the staring gaping Throng ( A thing deserving Admiration ) Into a copious Salvation . From hence came all those monst'rous Stories , That to his Lays wild Beasts danc'd Borees , That after him where er'e he rambl'd , The Lyon ramp'd , and the Bear gambol'd , And Rocks and Caves their Horses ambl'd ; For sure the Monster Mob includes All Beasts , Stones , Stocks , in Solitudes : He had a Spouse y●lep'd Euridice , As tight a Lass as er'e your Eye did see , VVho being one day Carest by Morpheus In absence of her Husband Orpheus , As in the God's Embrace she lay , Dy'd , not by Meaphor they say , But the ungrateful litteral way ; For as a Modern's pleas'd to say by 't , From Sleep to Death , there 's but a way-bit , Orpheus at first t' appearance grieving , For one h' had oft wish'd Damn'd whilst Living , That he might play her her Farewell , Resolv'd to take a turn to Hell , ( For Spouse he guest was gone to th' Devil ) There was a Husband damnably Civil ! Playing a merry Strein that day , Along the Infernal King's High-way , He caper'd on as who should say , Since Spouse has past the Stigian Ferry , Since Spouse is Dam'd , I will be Merry ; And Wights who travel that way daily , Jog on by his Example gaily . Thus Scraping he to Hell advanc'd , When he came there , the Devil Danc'd ; All Hell was with the Frollick taken , And with a huge Huzza was shaken : All Hell broke loose , and those who were One Moment past plung'd in Despair , Sung , hang Sorrow , cast away Care. But Pluto with a spightful Prank , ( Ungrateful Devil ! ) did Orpheus thank . Orpheus says he , I like thy Strain So well , that here 's thy Wife again : But on these terms receive the Blessing , Till thou' rt on Earth , for bear Possessing . He who has play'd like thee in Hell , Might e'en do tother thing as well ; And Shades of our Eternal Night , Were not design'd for such Delight ; Therefore if such in Hell thou ufest , Thy Spouse immediately thou losest . Quoth Orpheus , I am maul'd I see ; Your Gift and you be Damn'd thought he , And shall be if my skill don't fail me , And if the Devil does not ail me . Now Orpheus saw importance free , By which once more a Slave was he : The Damn'd chang'd presently their Notes , And stretch'd with hideous Houl their Throats , And two and two together link'd , Their Chains with horrid Musick Clink'd , Whilst in the Consort Yell and Fetlock , Express'd the harmony of Wedlock . Then by command he lugg'd his Dowdy To Acheron , with many a How d' ye ; But whilst the Boat was towards them Steering , The Rogue with wicked Ogle leering , Darted at her fiery Glances , Which kindled in her furious Fancies , Her Heart did thick as any Drum beat , Alarming Amazon to Combat ; He soon perceives it , and too wise is , Not to lay hold on such a Crisis . His Moiety on the Bank he threw VVhilst thousand Devils look'd a skew . Thus Spouse who knew what long Repentance VVas to ensue by Pluto's Sentence , Could not forbear her Recreation One poor half day t' avoid Damnation ; But fondly help'd her Husband's Treachery , Such in hot Climes is Womans Letchery ; Her from his Arms the Furies wrung , And into Hell again they flung : He Singing thus , repass'd the Ferry , Since Spouse is damn'd I will be merry . Epigram upon a Lewd Roaring Scotch Parson . A Canting Scot in thy vile Sermons Preaches , In thy lewd Life the Devil his Doctrin teaches , Thy Flock is Damn'd ; for what confounded Sot VVith not believe the Devil before the Scot ? Vpon the same Burlesque . Now Muse to Laugh recite a Farce on , A Scot from Pedler made a Parson : The Wight who once retail'd Small VVare , Now Trades in Precept and in Pray'r , And grown a Pillar , on that Back Bears up the Church which bore a Pack , Ordain'd by wise and worthy Prelate , As creditable Authors relate , Purely to cool the Spiritual Pride Of all Scotch Holders-forth beside ; For Scot promoted to the Desk , Is on his Brethren a Burlesque No Jest for blind and false Devotion Could e'er be found like Scots Promotion , No Satyr with severer Jerk Could Lash the Universal Kirk A merrier VVight did never drub , Orthodox , Pulpit , or a Tub : His Canting more to Laughter urges , Than ancient Hugh or modern B — s , And makes more Mirth in Church from Pulpit , Than Tony Lee , from Stage in Ful-pit , VVith Hell and Devil and Damnation He can divert his Congregation : His own Wifes Flesh and Blood , his Daughter , Ev'n pisses with excessive Laughter ; She with excessive laughter Pisses , Some Wheeze , some Keck , another Hisses . So when a Grave and Reverend Owl , The Purblind Parson of the Fowl , Does form his Pulpit hollow Tree , ( From whence you just his Head may see ) Hollow a loud Futurity ; The Birds about their Prophet flock To Persecute him or to Mock , And each does variously revile His Grave , Gray Noddle , or his Style . The Two FRIENDS . FReeman and Wild , two young hot Gallants , Fam'd through the Town for swindging Talents , At making or at acting Love , And Beaus too over and above ; Like Friends had a fine Buxom Woman , ( Like Friends indeed , you 'll say ) in common , Now one of these two Sparks attack'd her , So furiously , so like a Hector ; He got a Girl , who to a Tittle , Her Mother's Picture was in little : When both Jack Freeman , and Ned Wild Would own the Fair , the chopping Child ; Both own the Babe , ( and who would not ! ) Sweet as the Sin by which 't was Got ; Ned , that he 's sure he Got her Cries , She has his Dimple and his Eyes : That she was his , Jack Freeman Swore , That she resembled him all o're , The Devil was not more like a Moor : But when at length the Girl began To grow capacious of a Man. Changing their Minds , each Spark chose rather To be the Sinner than the Father : Says Wild to Freeman , Jack , this Lass Is thy own Flesh and Blood ; she has The very Leer of Lewd Jack Freeman , Ad — ds that Sham won't pass on me , Man , ( Cries Freeman to his Brother Wild ) Mine is the Lass , and thine the Child . Says Wild to Freeman thou'lt be Damn'd , 〈◊〉 , ay , Ned , but I won't be sham'd . An Explication of Mr. Tate's Riddle , in the Gentleman's JOURNAL for April . PEople d' ye say , that like Jews ramble , And were produc'd without Love's Gambol , That higgledy , piggledy , lie together , And yet were nere Lampoon'd for 't neithr , Who often Laugh , yet ne're are merry , And whom we ne're Baptise or Bury ! What are these Creatures ? let me see ; Why , surely they must Devils Be. The Dev'l they are ! You 're out , my Friend : Now to this Story pray attend , Which , if 't is well apply'd , will make You rectifie a gross Mistake . In former days when Breoshe , Who was ( as every He or She In Monsieur-Land did fully know ) Intendant of a Puppet Show , His stroling Pigmy Clan transferr'd ( Of which hight Punchinello's Laird ) From Paris to the High-Dutch Hans-Towns , And thence to High-Lands of the Cantons ; Swiss wond'ring to hear Puppet squeak , And see him frisk with Faiery Freak , And then a Boree Dance , and a Jig , Thought ( cunning Dog ! ) this must be Magi Did Breoshe a Conjurer style , ( But surely Swiss was none the while ) Had like t' have truss'd up the poor Fellow , And for a Devil took Punchinello . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A35676-e150 * Names of French Men of War. Apostrophe to the Officers of the Fleet. Return to Mr. Shepherd . Notes for div A35676-e4730 Plato defin'd a Man a two legged thing without Feathers . This was writ upon the false news that the French had rais'd the Siege , upon the Discovery and Execution of some Treacherous Burghers . Notes for div A35676-e7500 This Parson had been formerly a Pedler . Scot is both Gray and Purblind . Notes for div A35676-e8620 Tom. Frank.