DANGERFIELDS' Dance.  
Giving an Account of several Notorious Crimes by him Committed; VIZ, He pretended to be a DUKE, And feigned Himself to be MONMOUTH, With several other PRANKS: For which he was Sentenced To Stand in the Pillory, to be Vvhiped at the Cart's Arse, and to be sent back to Prison.  
This may be Printed, July 2. 1685. R. L. S.  
Entered according to Order.  
For a Seditious LIBEL.  
SPECTATUM ADMISSI RISUM TENEATIS AMICI.  
IT is no Wonder in this Critic Age,  
To see Offenders mounted on the Stage,  
And Shameful Punishment on them attend,  
Who on their Shamming Wits so much depend;  
Scourging and Pillories fall to their share,  
But all too little to make them beware:  
And Impudence to such a height is grown,  
As I believe the like was never known.  
Here you may see how Dangerfield's Aspired!  
Who needs would be a Duke! by all admired!  
His subtle Crotchets, and his cunning Pate,  
Hath brought his Person to a dreadful State.  
How he did Scamper, if you did but mind,  
When on his Back he did the Torment find  
Of Scourging Justice, it would make you Smile,  
To see how Fortune did his hopes beguile;  
And brought his feigned Highness to the Lash,  
Till brinish Tears his Brazen-Face did Wash.  
O hapless Dangerfield! thou art mistake,  
That did for Honour and Obedience look.  
Thy great Ambition all Men do Rebuke,  
Can nothing serve, but thou must be a DUKE?  
Fie, fie, it was too great and high a Style,  
Tho' Fortune for a moment seemed to Smile;  
Yet from thy Honour thou cam'st tumbling down,  
When she once faced about on thee to Frown:  
Old Newgate was the place to Entertain  
The Shamming DUKE, where thou didst long remain;  
Till thou wert Whipped and Scourged along the Streets,  
Which seemed Sour Sauce after so many Sweets;  
Yet 'twas but Just thou shouldst it undergo,  
Because that you such Shirking Tricks did show;  
And brought thee unto Condign Punishment,  
If't please Tour Highness, what was your intent?  
Poor Women to deceive, and get their Coin,  
It is no better than for to Purloyn;  
And make the World believe thou wert some Spark  
Who had such Honour from thy Servant Mark,  
Like Oats, thy hopes are now in pieces crashed,  
The Brains of thy Ambition out are dashed.  
Whipping, instead of Cringing unto thee,  
Thou may'st expect will now thy Portion be.  
Thy Name for ever will be on Record,  
Thou must not be a Duke, nor yet a Lord;  
A Newgate-Bird thou may'st accounted be,  
Highly deserving of the PILLORY.  
And since so Arch and Cunning thou art grown,  
To play such Pranks as ne'er before was known;  
'Tis pity thou shouldst ' want of thy Desert,  
Tho' now thy Title is not worth a Fart.  
And so Duke Dangerfield I bid adieu,  
A thousand Lashes I bequeath to you;  
And hope you may to others warning be,  
Never to practise such base Villainy.  
Your Suffering, you cannot well deny,  
Is the Reward of your Audaucity;  
To this your Reason cannot choose but yield,  
And now look to your Hits, Duke Dangerfield.  
FINIS.   

London, Printed by J. M. in the Year MDCLXXXV: