THE DEVIL'S JOURNEY TO LONDON: OR, The Visit Repaid NED W— D.  
Being a satire sent to Physicians College in Warwick-Lane.  
Written by an Apothecary.  
LONDON, Printed in the Year 1700.   

THE Devil's journey to London, &c,  

IN Caverns of the black Abyss of Hell,  
Where damned Souls in torment ever devil,  
Weeping, and mourning at their dismal state;  
Repenting of their Sins; But ah too late!  
Pluto retires, that he might espy,  
What Order there was, how his Tyranny  
Was exercised, and his Commands obeyed:  
The Ghosts at his damned Presence are dismayed;  
They dreading his Commands, amazed stand;  
The Furies quake, and trembling do demand,  
Great Pluto, chief in Hell, what Force, or Arms,  
Or mighty Monarch, now thy Court alarms,  
That thou in person dost appear, or come  
On some vile Wretch to order worse Doom;  
If any here has done the lest of Ill,  
Tormented shall he be, by Devil's Skill;  
Example shall he be, that here below,  
Damned Souls, and Devils may thy Power know:  
Thus cringing did they stand, quaking with Fear,  
What Answer Pluto gave, who did appear  
Stark mad with Rage, which made the Devils quake;  
And the dark Caverns of deep Hell to shake:  
Amazed Powers of Hell come crowding down;  
To know the cause; each Fiend now fears his own.  
Pluto at last, to them does thus reply;  
My Friend Ned W—d has told a cursed Lie;  
Crowds of Lawyers, Doctors, and their Slaves,  
He says, are here; Poets worst of Knaves;  
Pimps, Whores, and Bullies, and another Throng;  
Which now for to rehearse would be too long:  
Some of all sorts, are here, but if you view  
London (I think) may equal this damned Crew:  
Great Sinners come not to my Court, but they  
Sand lesser one's before, to make the way:  
Besides what crowds come in; my Friend Ned W—d  
Must have a place for him, and all his Guard  
Of Scribbling Poets; who do spy the Town,  
Nay, Hell its self; (because it is their own)  
Since my Friend now has twice been so civil;  
To Journey down to Hell to see the Devil;  
We must repay his visit, its unkind  
His Trips, and Journeys not at all to mind;  
If we don't visit now as heretofore,  
The Sot takes pet, by chance comes no more;  
For ye all know, it is my constant way;  
When Strangers do come here, I make them stay,  
They're welcome as myself, this place is free,  
As in Beginning, to Eternity:  
But him I did let go, for I knew well,  
There's ne'er a place, so fit for him as Hell:  
The second time, I let the Knave pass on  
For pity sake, since that he Lives upon  
The Spying Trade. But to the Court it's known,  
Next time he comes, the Devil knows his own:  
First I intent a Journey for to take,  
In Charon's Boat, I'll cross the Stygian Lake:  
And see how fares old England, Why maimed I  
The Earth, as well as they, dare Hell espy?  
What Mortal can resist—   

Just as he spoke in comes a sorry Tribe,  
Of Lawyer's Clients, who for want of Bribe;  
And Doctors Patients, whom 'twas their Mishaps,  
By trusting Warwick-Lane to cure their Claps,  
To post to Hell, some sleep to death, some kills,  
The misinterpreting their Doctor's Bills:  
Pluto asks whence they came, that he might know  
His Friends above, as well as them below.  
When all is told, cries, See there, make Room,  
Than order each Man what shall be his Doom;  
I am ungrateful, if I should deny  
That to the College, I'm obliged so high;  
But as they come, I strive to quit the Score:  
They daily by their Trade oblige me more,  
Than Woman Doctor, Quack, or pocky Whore.   

Pluto now ready straight with speed sets out;  
Hells Gates are opened, the Infernal rout  
Of damned Fiends, come Crowding thick about,  
To know their orders, who the Sceptre sways,  
While Pluto's gone to fetch some greater Preys.  
Cerberus' barks, and round the damned flies;  
Until at last great Pluto there espies,  
Than silent by his word, he down him lies.  
The fiery Sulphurous waves do rise,  
As if they durst almost to touch the Skies:  
Dam'd Souls all smeared with Sulphurous Flame,  
Colder than Ice, but burning in the same;  
While Devils, with their Forks strives to assuage,  
Their own dam'd Torment, show their utmost rage;  
That's ease of all their Torments, when that they  
Other Torment; whose sins made them a prey  
To Devils, Spirits, damned before the fall  
Of Adam; for whose sin we suffer all:  
What Mortal safe can be from their damned spite,  
Since they in Heaven durst with God to fight.  
Pluto takes care of all, and does Commend  
The Care of Hell, to his chiefest Fiend;  
Tell them he's sure, his Labour won't be lost,  
His London Journey sure will quit his Cost.  
Than this black Prince, with his Cursed Hellish Crew,  
Like Lightning in the Air so swift he Flew  
Over Hills, and Mountains which did over run  
With those Man's blood; who were by sin undone.  
Now passed the dismal dark Eternal Night,  
The gloomy Light appears to their Sight:  
The Sulphur stunk upon the cursed Shore:  
There might be heard the damned Spirits roar.  
Pluto sends back the Infernal Spririts, he  
Takes only one to bear him Company,  
In his Adventure, orders to retain,  
Ned W—d if he comes Spying here again.  
Now come to the River Side they hollow,  
Like Thunder, now the damned Spirits bellow  
For Charon, that he would the River cross,  
And bring his Boat, for Pluto fears the loss  
Of time, he longed to be at's Journey end,  
To see Ned W—d his dear and loving Friend.  
Charon (a lazy Dog) himself down lay  
The other Side, that he might pass away  
The time, waiting till Hermes now does bring  
Sad Souls, the Place he used to take them in:  
He hears a Noise sound from the other Side;  
Thinks he this is some of the last cursed Tribe,  
Pluto's Court that went, their gone Astray;  
They want Ned W—d to put them in their way.  
Charon bethinks himself to see if none,  
Had Stolen from Pluto's Court, and 'twas unknown:  
Slily he rows back his Boat, that he might Spy,  
Who 'twas that there; than answers by and by,  
I'll wait on you, Pox take you there Tarry,  
Am I your Spaniel Dog to fetch and Carry:  
Though I wait here to carry Souls from hence,  
I bring none back, that is the future Tense,  
Nor like to Doctors, Lawyers unjust Fee  
Will take, but True to Pluto ever be.   

The Angry Devil now with Rage Possessed,  
Retarding of his Journey, straight he Cursed  
Charon his Servant, to be damned for Ever,  
In the deep lake of Fire, and that he ne'er  
Should thence return; but there remain to be  
Tortured as damned to all Eternity:  
How dares he not his Master's great Command  
Obey? Who dares the Devil here withstand?  
The burning Flames did shine now from his Eyes,  
Charon he finds it's Pluto, and he Fly's,  
With all the speed he Rows unto the Shore;  
With thick fetch Strokes, he presently is over.  
When Angry Pluto Charon doth come near,  
He Trembles, first could not Speak for Fear;  
But on his Knees, that Pardoned he might be,  
He Beggs, and Prays, 'Cause Ignorant that he;  
The mighty Prince of Hell, did now design  
To Cross the Stygian Lake, therefore not mine  
I Beg the Fault may be, for no more I  
Will dare to offer such Indignity;  
But ever, will remain a Constant Slave  
To Pluto's Court, O Pardon let me have!  
Pluto says nothing, but in haste does make  
Into the Boat, Commands him straight to take  
His Oars, to the other Side to Row;  
When he come back he does intent to Show;  
What for his Crime should be his Punishment,  
Till than he aught to rest himself Content.  
Like Angry College, who possessed with Rage;  
All Pharmacy could not the same Assuage;  
We finding now our Fees begin to Cease;  
And by degrees our Practice to Decrease:  
Of Bankrupt Doctors there is now such store;  
That we'll be clyster driver who before,  
Was look on Doctor: (Ah sottish Fools)  
Leave our Practice to inspect close Stools,  
When Doctors Prescribe and attend your A—,  
Poets I hope will to the World rehearse,  
And Justice to the World will sure Proclaim:  
The Pharmark Art deserves the Doctor's Name:  
Poor Wretches we since College Trade decline:  
What would we give, that we the first design  
Had Crushed, and not so basely steal a Trade,  
For now we found deservedly we made  
A Rod for our Backs, they ye're our Friends,  
And we knew well they had no other ends:  
Those that in Coaches Ride, full often did go  
To their full Tables, but at Lord Mayor Show,  
And other Treats, what Crowds come sharping than,  
Ah Doctors, Doctors were ungrateful Men.  
My Pen cant help the setting forth your Crimes,  
I'll place them down for all succeeding Times,  
As Felon burnt in Cheek, to their Disgrace,  
About their Neck, these Lines or worse we place,  
The Colleges were they were bred Ashamed,  
To own these Monsters they have so defamed  
That Place, true Doctors eat them as the Itch,  
The Plague, the Scab, or nasty Pocky Bitch,  
Which they pretend to Cure.   

So Pluto, Charon does to Hell decree,  
For his good Service, and his Constancy,  
This mighty Prince set on the other Side,  
Resolves for London now what ere betid,  
o'er Hills, and Mountains with his Imp he goes,  
He fly's so quick through Valleys, Plains▪ that those  
Which were his Friends, he might this once regard,  
Being pleased to think of Visiting Ned W—d,  
Prepared he was with Gold, which can control  
All Mortal Men; for that can buy the Soul,  
When all Delusions, Cheats do prove but frail  
That sure and certain, and does never fail.  
What Murders, Rapes, to get it do we choose?  
That rules our Hearts, we durst it not refuse:  
O cursed Mineral! from whence didst thee  
Derive thyself? what Mortal now can be  
Secure from all thy deadly poisoning Charms?  
Thou Curse of curses! who so often Alarms  
Poor Mortals Souls. from thee there is none free;  
Those that possess, or unpossessed be:  
Not Argos Eyes, Briareus hundred Hands,  
No Earthly Monarch ever thee withstands,  
If thou but shows'st thyself, we straight Comply,  
thou'rt like to Death, none can your claim deny  
Pluto himself knew well what Arms to use;  
What Mortal do Reject and what they Choose  
He asked that Spy, when he was last in Hell,  
Or else by old Tradition he could tell;  
His Imp he orders, Charges that he stray  
About the Town, to get as great a Prey  
As he could get; now they are at the Place,  
Where one cries Smoke the Beau, what with that Face?  
And now begin the Devil to Disgrace;  
Another calls out Sir, Pray take a Chair,  
A Coach Sir, you Son of a Whore my Fare,  
The Noise so great the Devil could not tell;  
Whether they make a greater here, or Hell.  
Next Scene is shovved two Fops does straight Appear,  
Their Wiggs Perfumed, and so full of Hair;  
Their empty Heads were loaded so for fear,  
Lest some should steal their Brains out of their Ear▪  
The blinded Braves with Powder, can't agreed,  
This takes the Wall, the other thought that he  
Deserved it better, Damns him, and Swears straight,  
Before he goes, shall Satisfaction make.  
The other Swears, and out he whips his Sword,  
Abuse a Gentleman, upon my word:  
I'll make you know, and Satisfaction give,  
As you desire, you Dog, if I do Live,  
Of goes the Wiggs the Swords begin to Clatter,  
In comes the Mobb to know what is the Matter,  
Part them cries one, another cries not, not,  
Who dares presume to touch a Powder Beau,  
The Fray does end one's Killed, the other sent  
To Newgate, where the Quarrel to repent:  
The Beau now parts with Wigg, Sword, Coat for they  
Must bribe the Jury, pay the Gaolers' fee;  
At last comes out like Aesop's Bird unknown,  
To Beaus, and Bullies, Whores they will not own:  
This Tattered Rake till he can someway get,  
In Drapers, Cutlers, Barbers, Tailor's Debt;  
These easy Knaves are quickly put upon,  
Their Profit is so great, that few, or none,  
Will here deny to trust you, though unknown.  
These Beaus says Pluto in my first Troop Ride,  
They go to Hell themselves without a Guide:  
I need not teach them, for I now may see  
They know the way to Hell, as well as me.  
I'll leave this Crew, and further I will go,  
Seek out my Spy, and he I'm sure will show  
The ways of London Tricks, and all their feats,  
He knows them well cause uses all their Cheats;  
The Devil hunts the Town to found his Spark;  
Ranges from Aldgate to St. James'- Park;  
Not knowing whom to ask, or what to do,  
Vexed was he, that he lost his labour so:  
Spent all his Time in vain, but he is known,  
To all the Sharpers, Bullys, in the Town:  
Therefore I think there is no need to doubt,  
But I in time may found this Sharper out,  
He Strays about, till Newgate he comes to,  
Goes up, and asks one of the Theving Crew,  
Ned W W—d's Lodging if such a one he knew,  
Yes, yes, replied he, I know him well;  
I''s he you mean that has been twice in Hell,  
The same the Devil cried b'ing glad to hear  
That like to Speed. I hope old Friend you bear  
No harm against him, says the other, I  
Do think he is, and none can here deny,  
The best of Sharpers he does far out go,  
That Newgate ever had, or Hell can Show:  
Well, well my Friend to the Point pray now mind;  
Keep straight up Holborn, and at top you'll found,  
A Place called Gray's- Inn, where if you inquire,  
Ned W— d's Garret, that what's you desire;  
You'll found him if at Home; I think you may,  
Keep straight along, for that's the ready way.  
Pluto he thanks him kindly, so they part;  
Farewell he cries, I wish with all my Heart,  
That you might go with me, but that can't be,  
You'll come by turns, ye all belong to me.  
The Devil now Directed right he walks  
Unto Gray's-inns, round about he stalks  
Staring: He finds so many Garrets there,  
He knew not which it was, or how to hear:  
Up Stairs to one he goes, but there none knew,  
This Spying Knave but one did kindly show,  
The Porters-Lodge; tells him, that he could tell,  
He knows us all. (But W—d he knew too well)  
The Devil thanks him and down Stairs does go,  
Was ever known poor Devil Hackned so,  
To see what Love he had for him that none  
Would serve his turn; but only him alone:  
The Town is large, the Devil might have think't,  
Some greater Rogue, what sayest there is none in't  
So great? why than my Pen must honour show,  
To this great Master, from whom others know,  
All Arts, all Tricks and Cheats, which they have used:  
It breaks my Heart that I have him abused  
If that could be: But hark now some more;  
The Devil's got a Pounding at the Door,  
He raps at first, and than he sound beats,  
Within Ned W—d, he through the Keyhole peeps,  
Expecting Bailiff, Debtor, or some Whore  
He Poxed, and Bilked a day or two before;  
To bring her Bully, to her just Defence;  
Or Grays-Inn Porter to kick him from thence,  
Bethinks himself how for to put them of;  
At last he Opens, but was very loathe  
To see his Visitor. Pluto cries out,  
How now Ned W—d why you are now grown Stout,  
Not know your Friends, why surely you and I,  
Must be Acquainted better by, and by,  
I come on purpose to see you, what not know,  
Your best of Friends, your dear and chief Pluto.  
I beg your Pardon Sir, replied W—d,  
For I was now a thinking of the Guard  
Of Poets; who against me daily Writ,  
It makes me Mad to think now of their Spite:  
Pray mind them not but Satisfied be,  
While I am here, take care and Wait on me:  
While I am with you, I am sure none dare,  
Affronted you therefore let it be your Care,  
For to promote my Interest, by that way,  
You'll gain yourself a greater Name than they,  
Methinks your Furniture seems very sad,  
Your Garrets dirty and your Bed is bad:  
This Fleay Mat not keeps you from the Ground,  
Indeed I thought in better Case to have found  
You, Pluto here you cannot Entertain,  
Those that you Visit do expect again,  
The same returns of kindness to be shown,  
Much more me, for thou art now my own:  
The best of Places, that in Hell can be,  
I have Reserved, and do intent for thee;  
Grieve not poor Ned for if the World does Frown,  
In Hell I will for all thy Spying Crown:  
Thou art Newgates' Joy Tiburns only Glory,  
Thou hast outdone all that went before thee,  
For never any went to Hell to Spy;  
They think it soon enough when that they Die:  
I have not time to Tell, or to Pen Down,  
What Tricks Ned W—d did show him of the Town,  
That's for the next, I only now will Pray.  
To Bless this Poet than I'll go my way;  
Since this Wretch durst Lampoon my noble Art,  
It is but Justice that I speak in Part:  
May all Diseases Doctors can invent,  
And all the Plagues of Hell be on him sent,  
Whilst he Lives here, with Scabs, with Sores, with Lice,  
Than pocky Whores to Lust let him Entice;  
Till he's Poxed so that in him there may be,  
All Pox in the Town, and none but me  
To Cure him, When Sponging Bailiffs thumped,  
His pocky Bones, his Corpse than after Pumped,  
To Jayl be Carried, where let him be Fed  
With stinking Carrion, next for his Bed,  
On harrow Spikes may he be forced to lie,  
And Drink such Drink, which I wish that I  
May make: Let every Star that's in the Sky,  
And every Sand, that's on the Shore,  
Or in the Sea, a thousand Plagues sand more:  
When he can't turn himself from Back to Side,  
A thousand Whores let him be forced to Ride;  
At last when Pluto no more Plagues can tell,  
Let him be forced, to Foot it down to Hell,  
To ease his Pains here, which may they be,  
Ten thousand more than ever he did see,  
Or Fancies are in Hell: or can for me  
Invent: That Fools and Knaves may let alone,  
Others professions, meddle with their own;  
From Scribbling Wits all Quarrels do derive,  
Till they are Stopped our Nation ne'er will Thrive.   
FINIS.  
  

By reason of the Author being in the Country, at the time of the Printing of this satire, several Erratas have escaped the Press, which the Candid Reader is Desired to Correct, Especially in Page 8 and 9 Line lege Cause for Curse.