THE CHIMNEYS SCUFFLE.  
Publica fumantes tetigere tributa Caminos, Naribus audacis fastidiosa plebis.  
LONDON, Printed in the Year 1662.   

THE CHIMNEYS SCUFFLE.  

This is no Libel, such as Rogues disperse, But a poor Chimney-Plea in honest Verse.   

DEar Mistress of the Muses, Polihym●y,  
Breath Spirit into th' Funnel of my Chimney,  
That old Mull'd-Sack, 
Who changed his Name for a Sum of money conditionally paid him by his Fellow Chimneysweepers.  who to such fortunes crept;  
And from a Chimney to a Manor leapt,  
May with our Steemy Consort join in One  
Throbbing our Suffrings in a Sooty room.  
But whence comes this Complaint? Be pleased to hear;  
More's laid upon out Hearths, than they can Bear.  
Our Chimneysweepers may their hovel keep,  
For now the Owners must their Chimneys Sweep  
To lessen their Scrude Tax.— Turn o'er thy Book,  
Search thy Records, 
* Late'y createa Keeper of the Fower-Records; but his Fanatic Brain and Fantastic Pea have run such Division, as they will unstrip him of that Employment.  Cropped Prin, and show why Smoke  
Should thus be hoist: where so many shared,  
While Other Smoakers in our State be spared!  
Th' like Smoking Age did never yet appear,  
'Tis thought we shall turn Aetna the next year:  
We're all in Smoak and Powder: not a Stove  
But must our Synods grand Design improve.  
Alas poor Chimney-pipes! Say, why should you  
Be used thus, who stand but for a Show  
In Great men's Kitchens; while your Lords at Court  
Act for high Places, of some other Sport:  
Presenting there their Pageantry so clear  
As if they meant to make't a Theatre.  
Their Tyre-rooms are alike: and it is common,  
Women act there with men, and men with women.  
Their Tents removed: the Meniey must resort  
By their Lords conduct to the modish Court,  
Where his disbanded ancient Family  
A Squirrel Lackey, or py-coloured Page,  
Becomes reduced to one bare Livery;  
Which may secure his Honour from much wage;  
His Vails will do it, or a cashiered Suit  
With some Appendices of Fancy to't.  
Batts now and Scrich-Owls may keep open house,  
While their Lords sated with a Court-Carouse,  
Display their loose debauch'ry: yet must they  
For their Starved Smoakless Chimneys duly pay  
This late enacted Tax: O precious Jewel  
That pays the State for Firework without Fuel!  
And this is just: for These get any day  
More by one Suit than thousand Chimneys pay.  
Whereas poor Tradesmen who live by their Booth,  
Earning no more than serves from hand to mouth,  
With all their Stock can scarce pay Scot and Lot,  
Eating at night more than the day had got:  
These must be Smoked too, though their Chimneys speak  
They knew not what Fire meant throughout the Week.  
Is this a Parallel, line, or Solon's Law?  
That those whose Fortunes are not worth a straw  
Should be thus pounced to Muminie, and receive  
No more Exemption than our Grandees have.  
— Caesar I beg a boon, and it is this  
That I may plead in Forma Pauperis  
For these wcak Starvelings, who make't their desire  
That their Estates may purchase first a Fire  
Ere they pay for their Chimneys; and that those  
Whose grandeur by our Sufferings daily grows  
To such a boundless bottom, as in time  
Their daring height will threaten a decline,  
May feel Your Princely Lash; and these be many  
Who ought well to be smoked as much as any.  
For they're such State-Impostons, as their Task  
Is to disguise their actions with a Mask  
Of Partial-guilt Conformity; and such  
As like base Bulloign will not bide the touch,  
Being all Coat-Cards, but of that vicious Crew,  
Their Hearts are false for all their modish Show.  
And I must tell You from the zeal I bear  
Unto that Sacred Diadem You wear,  
That those Court-Burs who only set their razed  
On best-betrust or on Self-interest,  
(For that's prime Game at Cards they daily use  
For their advantage and Your high abuse,)  
Can with a Spanish-Shrug complete their Ends,  
And make the world believe they're Caesar's Friends;  
Ingratitude concludes them to be those  
Whom You reward the most be most Your Foes,  
Be not these Courtly Cay-ducks, 
A Fashion to our Nation unknown though now disp●●s'd through City, Country, Town.  whose repute  
Swollen with ambition of a gaudy Suit,  
Or some Outlaudish, gimp-thighed Pantalour,  
A garb since Adam's. time was rarely known;  
Strut all along to win the eyes of men,  
Who, if discreet, with Scorn dis-value them;  
All Sycamours for Shadow; nought for Fruit,  
Versed only in a frivolous dispute  
Or loose discourse of Hawk, or Hound, or Horse,  
Or in pursuit of H, what's ten times worse.  
These be those lazy fruitless Drones who thrive  
By sucking Honey from Your Princely Hive,  
What they ne'er wrought nor duly laboured for,  
And these may rest securely on the Shore;  
While Your endeared Zelots who have lost  
Their Fortunes for Your sake are hourly crossed  
By adverse Winds: Long have these Starvelings been  
Waiting at th' Pool in hope to be ta'en in,  
But some desertless Amorists of Fashion,  
Though really the Refuse of our Nation,  
Must be admitted to the highest place  
Not by internal but external Grace.  
'Tis only Gold-foil that performs the work,  
heavens bliss our Court from such a cursed Turk,  
For though his partial Presence honour win,  
He had no hand in bringings sovereign in.  
Awake Great Prince, intent your own Affairs,  
Let no light Dalilah rob You of Your hairs; 
Sampsonis Capilli sunt Principis nervi; qui Pascivis amplexibus, impudicis amoribus debilitari solent, si non dirimi. Proc.   
Those royal nerves should now employed be  
In Steering th' Rudder of Your Monarchy;  
And smoking those Ratouns who make't their aim  
To raise their Fortunes though they split their Fame;  
Nay, th' honour of our Nation; which is tried  
Sufficiently at th'Game of Peep and Hide.  
Our State's a constant Mask:— nor can we know  
Their faces by their vizors; but they show  
Best when they're least discovered: for what good  
Can be derived from Those corrupt their blood,  
And mould base Heraldry, sprinkling a shame  
Upon th' degenerate House, from whence they came?  
All's out of Order; Marriage Beds begin  
To take a Surfeit and to relish Sin.  
Stolen Waters razed the sweetest; 
Neither Fruits of their own planting, nor Waters of their own draining, nor Soil of their own improving.  those Fruits too  
Which in their proper Soil did never grow,  
But by a strange-inoculating hand  
Seizing on that which th' Owner should command,  
Solace their Palates most:— Actors o'th' Stage  
Spouse it the best with th' Peerage of this Age.  
Yet th' Spousal holds not: a dispensive Power  
Has made his Wife his constant Paramour: 
Fortis amatorls fit Palma, Corone labotis, Quo Sponsus thalamum Servat honore Suum. Mancin.   
And yet HE loves HER as he loves his Life,  
And dearer too than if She were his Wife.  
But that we may the sooner make an end,  
Let us unto Your Offices descend,  
Both great and numerous in Your peaceful State,  
And such as make our Officers too fat:  
So swollen as they forget what they have been,  
With those brave Places they are seated in.  
My Pen ne'er brooked the Style of Parasite,  
The World shall see I'll do each Office right.  
And first to Those whom we account the prime, 
Pastoral Office in the first place, because the highest prize: and purchased by Renewal of Leases at the lowest price.   
Those Lawn-fleeves of our late reformed time,  
Whose boundless height such Privileges give  
As if they trenched on Your Prerogative.  
For these are Smoakers too, give them their due,  
When we our dormant Leases should renew;  
Which might have been prevented in our Land  
If you had kept those Leases in Your hand.  
Which would have given those mounting Lords content,  
And raised fit Pentions for Your indigent  
Deserving Friends; who bravely stood their ground  
When these Mandelions were not to be found.  
Yet those insatiate Herds for all their store  
Are in their thoughts as empty as before:  
Though Dioceses be of large extent  
To thirsty Lungs they're insufficient.  
Balaam's Priests could cunningly devise  
How to convey their Idol Sacrifice.  
This thirst deserves rebuke in Him that preaches,  
Cathedral Rabbis should be no Horseleeches.  
And some we have no Leprous gold will touch,  
They're yet thin ●own, may we have many such.  
There's Smoke in Law too, having to much skill  
As to drain Water from the Clients Mill.  
The one as simple as the other wife,  
The Lawyer grinds and takes the Miller's grief.  
He'll finger your pretence be ' t right or wrong,  
Though th' Cause be weak, fat Fees will make it strong.  
Had these in Xerxes or Severus days  
Sought to enlarge their Fame, or Fortunes raise,  
They by Imperial Sentence had been Smoked,  
And with Gold molted down their Throat been Choked:  
For nought in reason could be held more sit,  
Than those who sold base Smoke to fall by it:  
Shall I draw near Your Court? it will aver  
The ranting Courtier Smokes the Cavalier;  
Who though he never fought not ever will,  
He can prefer a Suit, and there's his skilp.  
Yet this Brisk Gig for all his garish show,  
Proves Smoked by his Damasella too; 
In they Court of B 〈…〉 s (as the Apologua observes the Elephaunt would not be admitted, because his knees were so unwieldy, they would not bend,   
Who near the Lobby or the Back-Stairs waits  
To squeeze her Pension from her Brothel Mates:  
This brings revenues to the Surgeon's Hall,  
But Cheats and Courtly Cringes pay for all.  
Those in our State he only held for Wisemen  
Who are designed Commissioners and Excisemen.  
These be those Grand Impostors of our State,  
And need not for preferment long to wait,  
For they've already feathered well their Nest,  
And on Your Subjects ruin set their rest.  
These to improve Your Rents, as they pretend,  
Become Your Farmers, but observe the end  
Of their Employments! 'tis their only aim  
To make a Booty of their Sovereign.  
With modest boldness let me tell Your Grace,  
That these have cheated You before Your Face,  
In prising th' rates of Customs to be such,  
When th' Annual profit rendered thrice as much.  
Now was not this Design pursued well,  
To take the Kernel and leave You the Shell?  
Yet these be Farmers still: Persons of case  
Sharing in Your Revennes as they please:  
Made to Cajole the State, but do no good  
Unless it be to suck the Vital blood  
Of Your endeared Subjects, who have served  
Both You and Yours; and better far deserved  
Than these Cantarides who cleave to th' Skin  
For the Rivulets of Blood that flow within:  
But when their yawning Chaps have drunk up all,  
High-swollen with Loyal blood, they're forced to fall.  
These too like impudent Suitors lately woo  
To be the Farmers of our Chimneys too:  
Which by their active undermining wit  
They first contrived, by Votes committing it  
To a Self-owned Committee, whose Compact  
Brought this Proposol to an express Act:  
And though by Act prohibited it be  
No Member share in that Proprience,  
A trick is found out by their quicksilvered Brain,  
A Dispensation for a future gain.  
These raking Rocks when they're on profit Set;  
Take all for Fish that comes into their Net.  
And these Grandalions of Your own retinue  
Who would be thought to heighten Your Revenue:  
And with more fullness of Content instore You  
Than any Prince that ever Reigned before You:  
Just as that Rebel Parliament professed  
To Your late Father in His Sufferings blessed.  
Brave Plots; rich Proffers! which like Flowers were strewed  
Not to refresh the Sense but to delude.  
But was this done, my Gracious Liege, for You?  
No, though at first sight it might make a show,  
As Painted Projects use, t' enhance Your Ren●s,  
Their Subtle Sconces moulded worse intents  
Than pur-blined Eyes discovered; for they sought  
Either by Farming what their Brokage wrought,  
Or by their Agents to ingratiate▪  
Your Smile for whom they did negotiate.  
But such base baits You cannot relish, sure,  
Those be Your Friends who make You most secure:  
Whereas Court-Fawns, those Buffouns of our age  
Practise along Your HONOUR to engage;  
Which Princes ever held the precioust Gem  
That could enrich a Royal Diadem.  
For what's this guilded State but painted Clay  
If Spotless Reputation fall away?  
May that live still unblemished, and remain  
An Individual to my sovereign,  
I'm bold, but 'tis my Zeal that makes me so,  
Who spares to speak he is Your fawning Foe.  
Satyrs who lay true tincture on a Crime,  
Deserve more praise than Humorists o'th' time.  
'Tis Charity in Him that shows the way,  
Or lends his Light to One who goes a stray  
A Subject to his Prince is such a Debtor,  
The Plainer that He writes, he loves him better.  
Into Your Court such Favourites have rushed,  
Whose Coats being full of Moats had need be brushed;  
'Tis true indeed we have Comp●rolors plenty,  
But of that Rank there is not one of twenty  
Dare execute that Office as, he should,  
Nor would He, I'm persuaded, if he could.  
The Weeds of others cannot well be mown  
By those who have so many of their own:  
Their Studies are Lampounds; wherein their aim 
☜   
States Court-abuses to the Penner's shame;  
For there's not any witty Back-stair Wench  
But reading jeers them for their want of Sense.  
We talk of a strange thing called Reformation,  
But where's that Creature to be sound i'th' Nation!  
That Language is Utopian, none of ours,  
And has been long time since shut out a doors  
As a regardless Alien:— Let us can  
And take our Circuit from man to man.  
Fanatic, Libertine and Leveller,  
Our rigid Presbyterian, who to err  
Were held a Prodigy: let's see what peace  
Or Reformation any one of these  
Can hold forth to us!— but the other day  
john Presbyter was to be packed away  
With his Seditious Spawn: but are they gone  
As 'twas enjoined them, forty Miles from Town?  
No, no, believe it this was a brute Thunder,  
Their swelling Spirits are not so kept under; 
Whose Arguments, though strongly seconded, in a late debate were evinced, and those Fiery S●par 〈…〉 'tis deservingly silenced. Mean while their Conventicles and Clandestine Assemblies by their own privilege frequently continued.   
For they're reprieved, their Censure now blown o'er  
And reestated where they were before:  
And now restored, they vapour it afresh  
As none might touch their Sanctified Hesh.  
Those who supply their Places few draw near them,  
And though they preach pure Doctrine none will hear them.  
Is this the way to Reformations, say,  
When Shepherds who have taught their Flocks to stray  
Must be indulged; and though they bring forth Leaves  
But no Soulsaving fruit, yet must Lawn-●eeves  
Though ne'er so Orthodoxal; be content  
With a fraterual shrug to give consent  
To these Church-Cattines, whose active pate  
Works to reduce us to that forlorn State  
Which our Anarchiall Government retained  
While th' Syracusan Tyrant o'er us reigned?  
Nor can I blame those Magpies if they give  
Such freedom to these Zimreys to live;  
High forts support the Lower: those who ne'er were  
Friends to Church discipline nor the Lord's Prayer  
Be their GOOD LORDS: and These in such high Grace  
As they'll cast dirt in any Bishop's face;  
So bravely raised they are, to Courtly strong  

☞  As they will do no right nor suffer wrong:  
Nor is it strange that they their Faith dis-own  
Who made their Breach of Faith before with Crown.  
Grave Presbyterian Patrons, 
Witness those Hubbuls raised in several Parochial Churches.  who display  
Their Zeal by throwing Common Prayer away  
Doomed to a different Martyrdom, as of late  
Was done in flat defiance to the State  
And th' High Prerogative sole due to You,  
As if we had no Native Caesar now:  
If this succeed, as't his a fearful Show,  
A tragic Epilogue must needs ensue.  
We hear of Coiners too, but they're so Greai  
As they may safely play the Counterfeit:  
Men of meb high descent and brave desert  
Scorn to receive their Convoy from a Cart.  
The Sun has many Moats, yet who'll assay  
To take those radiant blemishes away?  
They're glorious Soils: and Those are daring Fools  
Who call in question either Art or Tools.  
I much commend those Coiners policy  
Who stand secured by their Society:  
For they on such dependent Statists hang,  
They're privileged from capering in a string.  
But to our Chimney-work!— This Interview  
Must Catechise us— Sir, what Chimneys you;  
What Hearths, Stoves, Ovens? render us account,  
For we're Contractors. and must stand upon't:  
Do not deceive yourself, return your number,  
For you're to suffer if you render under.  
The Lash o'th' Act shall swinge you with such Strokes  
As never shall be cured by john an Oaks  
Nor those grave Coifmen, who for either side  
In our late Bicker have their Judgements tried:  
And as they well delerved, now high advanced,  
So well it has unto those Neuters chanced;  
Who with such solemn Ceremonial State  
In funeral Robes on Bradshaw's Corpse did wait:  
And as they droled in mournful Habits thither,  
It had been well they had been Earthed together.  
Small Coal, Small Coal.— Still, still that Croaking Cry;  
I've stopped up all my Hearths; no Coals will I.  
I will not Salamander-like desire  
To make mine Habitation in the Fire:  
These age-benummed Joints I'll never warm  
ere I pay more for Chimneys then my Farm.  
Though hoary Winter now draw near at hand  
I'll show such due obedience to Command;  
With Damocles I'd rather choose to starve  
Than lessen his Revenues whom I serve; 
☜   
Yet let the State excuse me, for Blind Hugh  
My Mason closed my Hearth before I knew.  
Maduesse hath made me senseless of all shame,  
Within this Fortnight I from Ped'am came;  
Where I my Crack-brained Amours did express  
As Wooers should; Tom to his lucky Bese.  
And this contents me, though mad Boys we be,  
I've found a Court grown madder far than we.  
My Brain is madling; I am now for Court  
For no Suit-quest, I am not moneyed for't;  
But to observe their posture; for we hear  
What strange-divining Meteors rusle there.  
State-Criticks now our Sprucer Sprigs be grown,  
Ready to brush all garments but their own;  
Those must be lightly touched, for they allege  
Their Acts pretend a Native privilege:  
Sphered above Censure is their Regiment, 
An Apish-modish vosture the only sweet Courtly garb.   
Apish or modish it is sufficient  
So it be foreign, be it ne'er so gay  
Nor garish-gaudy, 〈…〉 will find a way  
To gain admirers: and with speed prepare  
New Fashion-Mongers for a stranger air:  
Our Country Artists be such homely Creatures  
As they mis-shape the Beauty of their features.  
So it bear th' Title of Outlandish work,  
'Twill give content though moulded by a Turk.  
There's nought exact done by an English hand,  

☞  No dress complete but from an other Land.  
So is the World might think we stare a quarrel  
Both with our plundered Language and Apparel.  
Thus beggar we our own; not care we much  
So we content ourselves▪ our humour's such.  
Here may you see a light py● coloured Jack.  
Wear a whole Lordship on his crazy back;  
Which his extorting Ancestor conveyed  
To Him, who for his death entirely prayed  
That he might Pawn his Aores; and engage.  
His State to dawb his Lackey and his Page: 
A gallant Retinue, to travel out the fagend of a Prodigals Fortune.   
Resembsing those to life who nostle here  
Learning first to get Clothes, then how to wear,  
(To th' Mercer's Ruin) though a Venial Sin  
To cheat a Book who meant to Cozen Him.  
Turn over Leaf by Loaf i'th' Draper's Book,  
You'll find his long own Scores as light as Smoak.  
Yet is he out of Debt I dare well say,  
For He is said to own who means to pay.  
But being at last stake what shall he do?  
He has no Brains i'th' World to five unto:  
The only way then to evade this Shelf  
Is to serve one no wiser than himself,  
Some Laptand Lord, who having got no Heirs,  
Makes his thoughts Strangers to all thriving Cares.  
Now what Supplies accommodate the youth  
Of these profusive Sparks, whose Fruitless growth  
Has spent itself to atoms? They must look  
To be Collectors of our Chimney Smoak, 
A Cool Coal-Cordial for a Consumptive Prodigal.   
And by their mis-accounting profit bring  
Gain to themselves in Cheating of the King.  
A bold adventure, yet an usual guise  
As may appear by Farmers o'th' Excize;  
Which in one Instance I shall clearly show,  
Though not recorded yet approved true:  
Th' Event so just it highly pleased me  
Not in the Act but the Catastrophe.  
A Stirring Member of the Parliament  
Stored richly with all Blessings save Content,  
Became Excifeman; but before he found  
The Profit on't, his Patent fell to ground.  
I wish all Patentees may have sike hap,  
Who drain Revenues from the Ale-wifes' Tap.  
O brave Design! Struck on a fatal Shelf,  
By his own Vote th' Exciseman splits himself  
But how has this Exciseman born himself!  
How has this timing Bird bewrayed his Nest!  
How has he run his Pinnace on a Shelf!  
How has he ruined those deserved best!  
Split th' Cavalry of their just interest!  
Was not this Act a Crime beyond compare  
I will not judge, but leave it to the Chair!  
But these ambitious thoughts we have at Court  
Make hopes of Honour ramble in this sort.   

THESE from their Country have such glory gained  
By ringing backward they are entertained. 
Hear this Country Peal, ye Knights o'th' Shire and Burgesses.   
This is my Maxim: they're not Caesar's friends  
Who mould their Votes and Acts for private Ends.  
All such as loved their Prince have under 〈…〉 ood  
That they did neither King nor Subject good.  
Those to their Sovereign ever prove unjust  
Who 'twixt Him and his People breed distrust.  
And such, my Liege, or else we hear a Fable,  
Receive admittance daily to Your Table,  
Who to enlarge the Bounds of their Estate  
Will hackney Honour out at any rate.  
These be Court-Butterflies, who make a Show  
Just as our Lordship's Chimneys use to do  
In cheating Beggars, making their repair  
But find no Warmth nor Crum of Comfort there.  

☞  Discretion will not measure true desert  
By Apish postures or Outlandish Art.  
He only merits the esteem of Greaetnesse  
Who Suits his dress without affected neatness.  
Your Highness sways three Sceptres independing  
From Elders numberless by line descending;  
Let no Act derogate from that descent  
Through hostile force or Subjects discontent.  
Clear that Augean Stable; Let no stain  
Darken the Splendour of our Charlemagne,  
Nor his Courtgate: May th' Ladies of this time  
Be Aemulators of our Katherine  
Late come, long wished: whose Princely same shall be  
A living Annal to Posterity.  
To whose pure judgement, 
A Princess in Habit & Diet unexemplarily temperate.  than which none more strong  
Being Stranger to the World and so Young  
Nought can detract more from a knowing Nation  
Then making a mere Idol of a Fashion;  
Or in resemblance unto 
*— Speculum sibi fingit Asellus Flumine, quo speciem complicet ille suam. Farn  Isis' Ass  
To sacrifice the Morning to their Glass:  
Such atoms of lost honour SHE esteems  
For wand'ring Fancies or Fanatic Dreams:  
This Royal Pattern may, no doubt, regain  

☞  Our albion Halcyon days and Satur's- Reign.  
The World's new-moulded:— SHE who t'other day  
Could Chant and Chirp like any Bird in May  
Stored with Caresses of the Choicest lort  
That Art could purchase from a Foreign Court,  
Limned so by Nature's Pencil, as no part  
But gave a wound, where e'er it found an heart.  
A Fortress and Main-Castle of Defence  
Secured from all Assailants saving Sense.  
— But SHE's a Convert and a Mirror now  
Both in her Carriage and Profession too;  
Divorced from strange Embraces: as my Pen  
May justly style Her England's Magdalen.  
Wherein She's to be held of more esteem  
In being famed a Convert of the Queen.  
And from relapse that She secured might be,  
SHE wisely deigns to keep her Company▪  
But forasmuch as noisome weeds are found  
In no Soil more than in our Holy Ground;  
And Darkness sometimes takes the Robe of Light,  
So as all is not clear that seemeth white;  
Admonish those Lawn Sleeves they grow not proud  
But seasonably communicate pure food  
To their deputed Flock: Your Grace has carved  
Large parts for them, let not their Sheep be starved  
For want of nour shment: I'd have them too  
Not only stand like Beacons for a show;  
Their Church-revenues as they be not small,  
'Twere fit for th' Poor they built an Hospital; 
☜   
Which Almes-work so long as they delay, 
We leave the injurious Usage of one of these (a Formal Fox, and advanced to one of our highest Places) to the ingewous Relation of Mr. Cressey, a modest deserving Gentleman.   
Let their Revenues for our Chimneys pay.  
At least, for Tenths as they precisely stand  
For each tenth Chimney let them pay through th' Land  
Their Leases to that vast advantage rise  
They may increase their Pride and Avarice.  
The Poor should be their Children during life,  
A Diocesan Care their Married Wife.  
This would embellish Mitres and enlarge  
Their Pastoral pains to edify their Charge.  
For th' Presbyter, because there cannot be  
An Unity 'twixt Him and Monarchy,  
For if th' Oue rise, the Other needs must fall,  
Left of those Sectists be there none at all, 
Such Phlebotomists as practise wholly upon the Basi●ica Ven● for a State-Cure are dangerous Artists: and fitter far for Jamaica than us.   
Silence is not Sufficient: Such Division  
Requires strict Exile for the best Physician.  
Their Plots are all Phlebotomy, but Yours  
By mild indulgence tender easier Cures.  
No more; vouchsafe upon our Suit to look,  
Our Hearths want Fires; and where's no Fire, no Smoke.   

The COURT-CURRIER.  
OUr Country was of late with blood embrued,  
And in this Age as viciously endued,  
Empoisoned with base Ingratitude,  
Where th' Hydra-headed Slavish Multitude  
Admires those only who have so much Sense,  
As beg a Place with srontlesse impudence:  
And by their activ'st Pavourite, ready pence,  
And without merit seels for recompense.  
These be the thriving Boys, who at this day  
Are ta'en into the P 〈…〉 while others stay.   

The Honest CAVALIER.  
MAny have here high hopes, 
Distinguish these by their Cignizances.  but they expire  
Before they mount to th'height of their desire.  
They're only wise that have the least to do  
Fixing on Flim from whom all Grace's slow.  
Nothing so sirm that may Affiance give.  
Let us only love where we may ever live.  
So shall our hopes be crowned, and Saints receive us  
Into those Courtly joys shall 
* 〈◊〉 deceive 〈◊〉  never leaves us.  
Some find the way who after learn to stray.  
The End tries all, the Evening Crowns the Day.  
FINIS.