colin's Walk TH●●●●H LONDON AND WEST MINSTER, A POEM in Burlesque. Written by T. D. Gent.  
Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare Poetae,  
Aut simul & jucunda, & idonea dicere vitae.  Hor. de Art. Poetica. 
Licenced March 27. 1690. Rob. Midgley.  
LONDON, Printed for Rich. Parker at the Unicorn under the Royal Exchange in Cornhill and Abel Roper near the Devil-Tavern in Fleetstreet, 1690.   

To the Right Honourable Peregrine Earl of Danby, Viscount Dunblain & Lattimer, Baron of Keviton, etc.  
My LORD,  
THE Diversion that Collen has already had the good Fortune to give your Lordship at some times of leisure, (when being retired from public Affairs you have honoured me with your Conversation) makes him now presume to throw himself at your Feet, and withal, engages me to appear in his behalf, Your Lordship's most humble Petitioner: The little time of his being in Town, has not at all hindered him from the perfect Knowledge of your Character; that noble Nature, and uncommon Goodness, that generally influences and obliges not only those whose Merits have qualified 'em for such an Honour; but even others whose Malice and Folly have justly deserved your Contempt and Indignation; cannot be without the Extremity of base and partial Ingratitude, exempted from general Applause; and amongst the rest, has likewise so charmed the Heart and Understanding of Poor Collen, that he rather chooses to renounce the whole Body of Presbytery, by exposing their Frailties to promote your Mirth, than endanger the misfortune of losing that part of your Lordship's Favour, which his benign Stars have already far beyond his Merit blest him with.  
Nor am I, my Lord, though a Petitione● for him, the less an humble Mediator fo● myself: This BOOK with which present your Lordship, and which confess was not designed to please all Parties, having much the greater occasion to make its Court to you, 'tis my Happiness to know your Lordship to be of a clear and genuine Understanding, not sullied by the Town-Vices, of Malice, or unreasonable Criticism, though capable of judging with the Wisest and most Correct, you will rather convince a Poet of his Error, by an easy Argument, than endeavour to raise the Structure of your own Wit, by crying down his, when he is out of your sight; And as your Generous Inclination to Arts, especially those of Poetry and Music, incline you rather to favour and instruct, than detract or reprove a Professor; so 'tis impossible for the Muses to do themselves greater Justice or Honour, than to implore the Patronage of a Nobleman, so perfectly qualified, whose Soul agrees with Science by Sympathy, and whose admirable Virtue of good Nature, influences the Poetic Art like another. Apollo, and rather plants the Laurel more firmly, than tears it from the Brows of any deserving Author.  
The Satirical Part of my Poem need not offend any one that is Wise enough not to expose himself: My Lines being (as the Eternally Famous Butler once said before,) like Salesmens' clothes, made for them only that they will fit; and with the same limit as juvenal allows his Satyrs:  Quicquid agunt homines, votum timor, ira, voluptas, Gaudia, discursus, nostri farrago Libelli est. 
Your Lordship's steadfast Opinion in Favour of the Church of England, gives me hopes you will be pleased the more with my exposing her Enemies; the Illustrious Stock from which you have your Being, giving you daily a noble Example of constant Candour for our Religion, as well as tender Love for your Country; that flourishing Cedar that has already adorned the Garden of one of our most loved and greatest Monarches, and now by Sacred Providence transplanted into the Bosom of a second, no less affected and revered, does not only appear the Courts chiefest Ornament, but it's greatest Blessing; the spreading Vigour of his fastened Root, will make him still defy the Storms of Malice, and stand in spite of Fortune, whilst the Indulgence of his genuine shade, nobly refreshes those ungrateful Creatures who pine to see his Height and Verdant Glory.  
This Theme would almost draw me to a Rapture, did not a just Sense of my weak Abilities check my Presumption: I shall therefore descend from that lofty Tract, to beg Pardon of your Lordship for this Prolixity, and prepare Collen to entertain you with his Humour and Character, as also with the divertive Accidents in his several Walks, which I do assure your Lordship are entirely new, and I hope will afford you the satisfaction I expect they should: The Wit and Style I humbly submit to your Lordship's Judgement, with unusual Joy to fall into such noble Hands, where I am sure to have generous Usage; your uncommon Affability, sweet and unaffected Behaviour, and modest Treating your Inferiors, engaging the Hearts of all that have the Honour to know you, as well as that of  
My Lord, Your Lordship's most Humble, and most Entirely Devoted Servant T. D'URFEY.   

THE PREFACE.  
THE various Sentiments and contentious Discourses of the People, as well of Town as Country, being the undoubted Occasion of the daily Animosities and Discontents that perpetually rise amongst us, was the chief reason of my publishing the following Piece of Raillery; in which I would insinuate to 'em the little Benefit and Advantage they do Themselves or their Country, by entering into Politics and Grumbling against the Government, which (in the first place) they should rationally believe it is improbable for them to alter; and secondly if there could be an alteration by other means, should cautiously consider what benefit either their Country or themselves should reap by a second Revolution so unlike to be, without the severest Distresses that Blood and Slaughter can possibly bring upon us: Euripides says, Mens una sapiens plurium vincit manus; If therefore the success of all worldly Proceedings does show, that Prudence makes prosperous the Event of Human Actions, more than Railing or Violence, than I am sure all Grumblers are at a loss every Way, for they can only talk Seditiously, without effecting any thing, which in my Opinion is no part of Wisdom: or if they should happen to do any Thing persuant to their own purpose, it would unavoidably be either a Damage to their Country or Themselves, as the best judgement of the Nation believes, and so consequently in the second place can never be quoted for an Act of Prudence.  
I therefore in the following Discourses between the Major and Country Collen, have in a Method of Raillery exposed the Humours of a Grumbling Church of England-Man, and an opinionated Presbyter, taking this Burlesque manner of Writing to promote the Readers Diversions in a greater measure than it could possibly be in a more solemn Style; for I have taken Care both in Collins Character, and his Arguments to prepare a farsical Entertainment against Popery for the Brethren, and a pleasant Interlude against Phanatiscim for the Romanists, and shall be very well pleased if the Worthy Members of the Church of England will do me the Honour to sit down and Laugh at both, they having some reason to do so; as well knowing that some little time since, both the others did as much for them, with a more than ordinary Satisfaction. Tho the Characters may be thought Satirical, yet is there no particular Reflection upon any one; nor have I maliciously exposed any irregularity in the last Reign; or made any unmannered remarks upon my Superiors, my sole Business being to rally my Countrymen into Union and good Humour; and to publish the Regard and Honour I have for the Established Church, by explaining the Envy, Errors, Stubborness and Foppery of her two implacable Enemies, Popery and Presbytery.  
There is nothing more common in this Age than Licentious Tongues, though at the same time 'tis a received Opinion, That there is nothing more pernicious to the Government; every Illiterate Mechanic, that has but Stock enough to purchase a Dish of Coffee, has the Liberty, and as he thinks the Ability to judge of Politics as well as the best of them that sit at the Helm.  
The General's Conduct in Ireland is good or bad as he pleases to fancy it, and the haughty Monarch of France is to be brought down, or continue in his Opulency, just as his admirable judgement thinks fit; 'tis from such as he the Scandalous Mint of False News is Coined, which in this Town is always naturally so catching, that its infection spreads like a Tetter upon the ill blooded Vulgar; this sets the disconsolate Malcontent that has lost his Employment a Swearing; the Rich Curmudgeonly Commonwealth's Man, that dams his Soul for six pence, a Railing; the Subtle Bribe-taking Lawyer, whose rich Crop is lessened by loss of the Dispensing judges, a Brawling; the Stigmatised Quaker, Sneaking Anabaptist, the Incorrigible Presbyterian a Canting; the Squeamish Tender Conscience Parson a hoping, and altogether to join in the admirable Chorus of Grumbling.  
The chief Cause of which disquiet, is the Time's distress, occasioned by the late Revolution; and the troublesome Taxes and Impositions, which must of necessity follow so great an Affair, as the restoring our Church to her Ancient Privileges and Rights; nor can any true English-Man who has any Honour in him, reasonably grudge a part of his Fortune to secure the rest, his Country and Religion, or suffer them to be again in Danger for want of some small Contributions;  

As if he thought she could not want  
Aid to her Title Militant;  
But was herself so mighty grown,  
To fight her Battles out alone,   
As our Friend Collen has it: And though to the Common Sort, and such as are destitute of Reason, as well as Consideration, every Taxation and Imposition seems heavy, needless or superfluous; yet the more judicious know the Intentions of it, is to defend our Religion and Properties by a just War, and thence use the means the sooner to confirm a Peace to the People, which Peace cannot be procured without Arms, nor Arms without Pay, nor Pay without Impositions.  
In the Major's Character, I have endeavoured to describe the Right Humour of a Malcontent; he pretends to be of the Church of England, but cannot allow that her Ruin should be put into the Balance against his Interest; let her lose her Rights a God's Name, rather than he his Office or Commission, which makes him in his first Speech to Collen spleenatickly Argue,  

Had it not for us better been,  
If th' Pope or Devil himself came in;  
Than thus t'involve ourselves in War,  
And plunge our Souls in endless Care,  
By needless emptying of our Purses,  
Make all our Wives and Children Curse us;  
And all these rolling Mischiefs gather,  
For Conscience, yet have none on't neither?   
Which I think the Parties themselves will own is as natural Grumbling, as Heart could wish, or as they themselves could dictate; and if they ask me how Collen, whose Character is a Country Clown, and consequently sordid and illiterate, should be so good a Disputant to oppose the Major's Reasons; they may please to observe, that I have qualified him for Discourse, by Observations from his Father, who was a Divine, a great Logician and Philosopher; and since it is certainly every Man's Duty, as well as every Poets to do as much as his Capacity permits him towards the Advancement of his Religion, and the Benefit of his Country, either by lessening their Enemy's Reputation, or extolling the Merit of his own Cause, I hope every worthy and true English Protestant of the Established Church (for I have no hopes of the Outlyers) will favourably allow the following Poem, which although may not have weight enough to improve their Understandings, may have diversion enough pleasantly to pass away an hour or two: I confess, I dare brag much of my own true Practice of Religion; yet I design to show in this, which 'tis I Honour, and which (whatever my Enemies suggest against me) was ever my Opinion to be the best in the World.  
I hope also the Majority of the Natives of England, have Prudence enough to allow the same, and Honour enough to defend it against all Oppositions; for by that means they will the sooner bring all disquiet Malcontents to see their own Error, and by a general Union of Hearts and Tongues, restore their Country to that Happiness which fatal Discord, and unreasonable Grumbling at present deprives it of: I hope I may with Reason believe the Oppression our Religion received, was the only Cause of the late Revolution; and also hope the King and our judicious Patriots will henceforth so settle it, that it may never again be in Danger; and therefore what good, violent Animosities, or any rash Undertaker can propose to his Country or Himself, by endeavouring an alteration, I cannot understand, nor I think any one else who prefers prosperous Peace, before unnatural Dissensions; and a Civil Community before a Civil War.  
It has been a received Maxim, That whoever have endeavoured to suppress by Violence an alteration in Government settled by the judgement and Concurrence of the Major, and wiser part of the People, which I hope is the Case now, have in all Ages promoted their own Ruins, without any success in their Undertake. Cosmo de Medici's, having gained an extraordinary Reputation in Florence, the Citizens imagined that to suffer it to increase was dangerous, and therefore by common consent banished him, which violent Proceeding so offended the Friends of Cosmo, being it seems the stronger and wiser Party, that they afterwards forced his Enemies to recall him, and make him Prince of the City. The same happened in Rome, where Caesar at first for his Virtues much admired and followed, became afterwards to be feared, and those that feared, not considering their Power to be inferior to his, endeavouring to supress him, were the occasion of his greater Glory. I insert these Examples only as Parallels that the Malcontents may see their own Ruin will not be only inevitable, but the Government settled the stronger by their rash Attempts, and pointless Aspersions; nor need I publish here the blessing of Union; every Man's Interest and Safety, being now best able to inform him, how extremely necessary it is to make the best of our present Fortune, by a Dutiful Obedience to the Superiors that Heaven has set over us.  
To conclude, The rest is to desire every Critic, that is pleased to do me the Honour to read the following Piece, to allow me as much of his good Nature as he can well spare, assuring him there is nothing in it to offend him, or any one that will pass by the same sort of Raillery, that has been used formerly; for the better explaining of which, I have at the End of the Book, written Annotations to every Canto, which though to the Learned may be needless, may to others be useful, who design to consider Honest Collen according to his Merit, whom if I find well received by the Party I intent him to divert, I will in the last three Days of my next Part, carry to Westminster-Abby to see the Tombs; to Gresham-College to admire a Virtuoso, and to Bedlam, to give him occasion by that Epitome, to make the better remarks upon our Nation, and particularly upon his own Tribe, the Contentious and Irreconcilable (though indefatigably Devout) Brethren.   

ERRATA.  
PAge 4. line 2. read make, p. 5. l. 3. r. Gnomon, p. 8. l. 14. r. his, p. 12. l. 13. r. thrifty, p. 15. l. 14. r. framed, p. 47. l. 18. r. t' instruct, p. 74. l. 14. r. for neither, p. 75. l. 1. r. yielded, p. 83. l. 3. r. these, p. 113. l. 11. r. likeness, p. ibid. l. 19▪ r. the Tract, p. 148. l. 15. r. to view, p. 178. l. 10. r. me think.   
colin's Walk, etc.  

Argument of the First Canto.  

Two Characters the parts Extolling,  
Of th' Jacobite and Country Collen;  
Their hot disputes almost to Rage,  
On the Transactions of the Age;  
The one exposing Popish Crimes,  
The other grumbling at the Times;  
Till that true Methods might be known,  
They both resolve a March to Town.   
CANTO I.  

WHen Fate by Modern () Abdication,  
Begun to cheer the blubbering Nation;  
When Grandees fled for fear of Sledges,  
And Constables Enacted Reges;  
Whilst the shorn Tribe at fatal Rumours,  
Got to St. Tyburn, or St. Omers;  
When crowds by Zealous Instigations,  
Beat down the Privilege of Nations  
Like rotten Tubs, or empty Casks,  
The bowels burnt of Popish Mosques;  
And their () bold Chief that led them all,  
Proudly had scorned his Quondam Stall;  
Where often he with gore Imbrued,  
Had done his hungry Country good.  
To manage now the Potent Rabble,  
Spread in Battalions formidable,  
Who can express what fears did cripple  
The Hearts, as well as Legs o'th' People?  
Especially the Country Rout,  
By Ignorance more exposed to doubt,  
Who when their Garlic Votes they give  
To Coin a Representative,  
Tho the same time no Rhubarb purges,  
So much as choosing of the Burgess;  
Yet having don't by wise direction,  
Resolve to stand by their Election,  
And for redress of grievances  
In clusters join like Sausages;  
Some thirty thousand, that for sense  
O'er rated are at thirty Pence;   

Amongst their Rural Myrmidons,  
This tawny Tribe of Adam's Sons,  
That met in Troops to make Confusion,  
Rather than help the Revolution,  
Two only shall their Merit force,  
To make our subject of discourse.  
The first a doughty Major was  
In th' North so known for Clumsy Grace,  
'Tis said he once went very near  
T'have been Elected Knight o'th' Shire;  
Had not Fame blabbed in his despite,  
And noised him for a jacobite,  
A Modern Title used of late  
For grumblers at the turn of State,  
Who itching to be Loyal thought,  
Makes freedom and Religion nought;  
But e'er we to his mind digress,  
'Tis fit we write his shape and dress,  
Both being rare in their extreme,  
And aptly suiting with our Theme.  
His Noddle was of largest size,  
Which showed its owner wondrous Wise,  
Since bounteous Nature took such pains,  
Th' apartment should not crowd his Brains,  
As Watches that are deepest made▪  
Show best the Artist at his Trade▪  
The Springs and Wheels within that lurk,  
Having more room to do their work:  
So Nature his capacious Skull,  
Still in his own opinion full,  
Like Fabric built with studious care,  
That Wit might take good Lodgings there.  
His Nose although not sprouting from  
The honoured Nasoes of▪ Old Rome,  
By which they were esteemed endowed  
With Wisdom and with Fortitude;  
Yet was the Gnomen of his Face  
As Famous in another Case;  
And though no Type of Roman power,  
Had much o'th' Grandeur of a Moor:  
Large, Round, and flatted by his Nurse,  
As Traders use () Bollonian Curs:  
His Face not skinned with finest Leather,  
Like Warrior formed to keep out weather.  
By Wars abroad and Pox at home,  
Indented like a Honeycomb;  
Where plain the dreadful marks did show  
Of dint of Scab and dint of Blow.  
And as fond Lovers make appear  
That in the Dimples of the Fair  
Small Cupid's Lie, with pointed Darts  
To storm the Fortresses of Hearts;  
So Mars Inur'd to do hurt,  
Lay frowning here in Flakes of dirt;  
And danger peeped from every Cell  
To make him look more Terrible:  
Upon his Chin no hair must grow,  
Which made some call him an old Beau;  
For Man of War, as wanton was  
At Fifty, as a Colt at Grass;  
And had not th' Times his honour fegued,  
As often now had been Intrigued;  
Surprised and Charmed his Martial Genus,  
With the gay charms of Nuda Venus;  
And though the lower end of's Face,  
By Barber's Art lost hairy Grace,  
Yet at the upper end there lay  
Abundance thatched like Stack of Hay,  
To guard his Eyes, of greenish Grey;  
Besides lank Tresses an Ell long  
On Poll, to show the Samson strong.   

His Person best observers deem  
Of portly Stature, tall and slim,  
With parts of large extendure born,  
To look o'er Hedges and view Corn▪  
Or in a crowd at Country Fairs,  
Peep o'er the rest at Cudgel Players;  
But was in Actions Brave or Wise  
No more than those of lesser size;  
Nor had he worn ('tis said) that height,  
But for his Nurse that took delight  
To make him sprout as fast as Hops,  
With a strong Broth of Nettle-Tops;  
A Learned way to lengthen Youth,  
As Daizy-buds to stint the growth.  
Thus was his Person decked by Nature,  
Thus dignified with form and feature;  
And thus as Nature did her best,  
So Nature's Tailor did the rest,  
Making his outward Garb agree  
Just with his Souls () Oeconomy▪  
His Coat was of that bloody hue,  
That in past times did Fields imbrue,  
On which did discontented lie,  
Some sparks of old Embroidery,  
That flourished in their glittering state▪  
In the sad Year of Eighty Eight;  
But now by dint of Fortune's flaws,  
As torn and tattered as the Cause.  
His Waistcoat was of stubborn Buff,  
▪ Some say Fuizee and Poniard proof,  
Lined aptly to defend Contusion,  
With sullen hardy Resolution,  
Where Muff hung fast with Gauntlets in,  
Made of an old tough Badgers skin▪  
And since 'tis neeedless to expose  
His Stockings, or describe, or Shoes,  
Or Legs, or Feet, sinceed may be guessed  
They were Synonimous to th' rest,  
We'll spare their Virtues or Defects,  
To fall upon his Intellects.   

First, that his Mind his Person suit,  
He was much gifted in dispute,  
And whether of Rome's Church, or Greek,  
Or English, or he were to seek  
For any (as 'tis very rare  
To find Devotion in the War)  
I know not, but affirm it shall,  
That he durst argue on them all,  
Himself with his own Tenets please,  
And those he not confuted, tease.  
In Politics and Poetry,  
So great a Critic none, as he;  
Bold in conceit, in humour strong,  
Would back his Judgement right or wrong.  
Tho still his chiefest Talon lay  
Disputing in the Martial way,  
None e'er like him so perfect were,  
In fight o'er the Civil War;  
He'd tell what passed then or before▪  
From Edg. Hill Fight, to Marston-Moor,  
With all their Actions and their Names,  
From Cromwell to Unlucky ay—  
As readily as I can tell,  
The Names o'th' people where I dwell;  
Most famous too of all the Nation,  
In Methods of Fortification,  
Renowned abroad, and had been once  
At th' Siege of Gravelling, and at Mons;  
And seen besides t'exalt his Joy,  
() The Works of Famous Charleroy,  
On which you need but tip his Tongue,  
To hear a Speech of six hours long;  
Loud and unweary without stint,  
Which though no truth, had method in't.   

In th' Mathematics he was right as  
That Noble Artist famed () Archytas,  
And spoke as learnedly his part,  
As he, in all the Terms of Art.  
He'd tyre your Ears with () Pentagons,  
With Bastions, Ravellings, and Half Moons,  
With Counterscarp and Parapett,  
Rampires and Hornworks make you sweat;  
And all your Outworks would Assail,  
With his Eternal Swallows Tail.  
In brief, there was so much in's Sconce  
Cried up by all the Romish Sons,  
That all the Senate and their Sense,  
Their threatenings and their Punishments,  
Stopped not his grumbling at the State,  
Although he ne'er could tell for what.   

In this Wise Rank, where few are Sager,  
Full of himself, appeared our Major,  
Who though discarded from Command,  
Did great in Self-opinion stand,  
And in some close Cabal of's own,  
Each Night turned Nations upside down,  
Encouraged by grave Instigations,  
Plots and Dispersing Declarations;  
And caused poor Clod pates wanting Reason,  
To be whipped for't and sent to Prison,  
But showed discretion great as Valour,  
To keep his own Neck out o'th' Collar.  
Yet still to further what he could,  
And stir the Factious Party's mood,  
Would blow Dissentious Coals to burn,  
In all he found fit for his turn.  
Thus was our Man of War endued,  
With parts as popular as shrewd;  
Whom now we'll leave the Scene to vary,  
And treat of his Contemporary.   

Under a towering Hill, as steep  
As ever yet broke Neck of Sheep,  
Or lifted Beacon to disclose  
The bold Invasions of our Foes,  
A snug and thirsty Mansion stood,  
Quite Muffled in a Verdant Wood,  
By Houswise Nature there designed  
To Nestle Rooks, and keep off Wind;  
And though the well thatched Roof a Storm  
Could balk, and dwellers keep from harm,  
Upheld by the assistance good,  
Of Post of Oak, and Wall of Mud;  
Yet its best Refuge were the Trees,  
In Winter's cold Extremities.  
Here Collen lived, Collen the Great,  
Of whom we now make haste to treat,  
In happy Solitude possessing  
Ceres and Flora's chiefest Blessing.  
And though Fate here no Empire sent,  
Yet was there its best part content,  
And Collen paying Rend in Penance,  
For being one o'th' Major's Tenants,  
Himself as Absolute still saw  
As any Duke of Modena,  
And managed yearly in his Hand,  
Tho not his Titles, as much Land.  
A Wight he was whom Nature made,  
When she was tired with too much Trade,  
And in the hurry slipped away,  
Not half made up the lump of Clay:  
And as the Major some nice Eyes  
Diverted with his Maypole size:  
So Collen often used to do,  
With Pigmy Corpse as much too low.  
His face could brag true Symmetry,  
But that it chanced to want an Eye,  
Thumped out in Shire they call Cornwall,  
With () hurling for a silver Ball,  
A surly pastime which they frame  
To Match the Old Olympic Game,  
And though that loss in a Town Beau  
Would never be lamented so;  
Who when he'd charm a Lady's heart,  
With one Eyes glance performs the part,  
Yet this no Rule in Collen was,  
Who feelingly bemoaned his loss,  
And wished for Eye again to see  
More than for Ogling faculty.  
But since no Cure could be by Art,  
He put the rest in Mourning for't;  
For up to t'other Eye the Bare  
Was muffled with black tufts of Hair,  
Sworn foe to Scissors or to Razor,  
And Savage grown as Nabuchadnezzar.  
His bulk was larger made by Nature,  
To make amends for Dwarf-like stature;  
But then as if she swore his Ruin,  
And had forgot what she was doing,  
Each foot like an unnatural Brother,  
Was running still away from tother.  
And as great Master's toil with those  
Who Dancing turn not out their Toes,  
So he to walk like other men,  
As often toiled to turn his in.  
Wise Providence, his useful parts  
Famed not to Captive Lady's Hearts,  
But gave him able arms and back,  
To Wield a Flail and carry Sack,  
And in all Stations active be,  
Adapt to prudent Husbandry.  
In which wise Art▪ is storied of him,  
No Person e'er was ranked above him;  
Not () Tusser famed for Rural Wit,  
Nor he the lofty Georgics Writ,  
Tho ne'er befriended so with History,  
Could outdo Collen in his Mystery.  
He knew that Land lying South South West,  
Still for the Purchaser was best;  
By Thistles tall'twould fertile be▪  
But small or short, the contrary.  
Knew when young Plants were weak or strong,  
Could make Hops grow with Pigeon's dung;  
Setting and Sowing tell t'a Day  
The Hops in March, and Flax in May,  
And tell the lucky hour with ease  
In February, for Beans and Pease;  
Search the hid Nature of the Moon  
To find if Plants were set too soon;  
And manage wane or waxing State,  
As if she had been his Intimate.  
He'd tell what Bullocks fate was Tragic  
So right, some thought he dealt in Magic.  
And as well knew by wisdom outward,  
What Ox must fall, or Sheep be stotered.  
Nor was this all, for he as sure  
As he Destroyed, had skill to Cure,  
If any of his Flock were seized  
By heat, with wriggling Disease,  
By shearing off the Wool upon't,  
And rubbing Dust in Fundament,  
The curbed Distemper reigned no more,  
And he was sounder than before.  
In Gardening too he could discourse,  
Profoundly skilled in Herbs and Flowers,  
Knew Wormwood good to Murder Fleas,  
That Honey and Water nourished Bees,  
When Winter Tempests ill befriends,  
And numbs with Frost their Finger's ends;  
Nay, even the Hogsty could not allege  
One fault in's Universal Knowledge.  
He knew to treat a friendly Guest,  
White Pig that Sucks before the best,  
And ne'er was found to be mistaken,  
In which was best for Brawn or Bacon.  
In fine, he loved the Herd so well,  
He oft would to his Neighbours tell,  
That one in's Sty was near Relation,  
To those destroyed by () Dioclesian.   

Thus in the Ancient Georgick Lore,  
Was Collen famous, and much more  
Than did with his course Garb agree,  
In Mystical Mythology.  
For he his outward dress declined,  
To add perfections to his Mind;  
And often wore, like Tattered wretches,  
A Coat with several coloured patches;  
With Breeches german to the Hide,  
Whence the Thong came by which they're tied▪  
A Natural and Careless habit,  
Made to hunt Otter, Fox, or Rabbit;  
But at a Fair, or on Lordsday,  
Would blaze in Manufacture Grey.   

Inspire me Phoebus, to repeat here  
The great parts of this little Creature,  
Which Heaven did so profusely give,  
And crammed in Corpse diminutive.  
His Father was a grave Philosopher,  
That many a Mystic Book did toss over;  
To know the Essences of Creatures,  
Of Flowers and Fruits the hidden natures;  
Of Bodies too the Species all  
Homo or Heterogeneal:  
Had been a Preacher, but turned out,  
For being more learned than devout;  
For leaving of Divine () Drexelius,  
To ponder on occult () Cornelius.  
Whilst closely studying the Black Art,  
The Parish ignorance broke his heart.   

He was the first could prove that Magic  
Did dat hurt than prating Logic;  
Since one you compass knowledge by,  
And t'other teaches ye to lie.  
That th' Sibyls by that Art did know  
Of Christ two thousand years ago.  
That Magi was the Name expressed,  
The three Wise men came out o'th' East:  
And that Magicians scorned the Devil,  
And held no commerce with things evil;  
Tho our illiterate vulgar Loobies,  
Will swear he daily sucks their Bubbies▪  
He also knew that () Zoroaster,  
Was first that did this Science master▪  
Which soon improved by Trismegistus,  
And others that were famed Assisters:  
They prove Mysterious Magic lies,  
On three substantial Faculties.  
Whose Theologick Influence,  
As well as Mathematic Sense,  
Proves use of Sacred Reason there,  
As well as Sun or Moon, or Star,  
And that 'twas Enthusiastic folly,  
To think things impious mix with holy.  
Thus gifted was our quondam Parson,  
And though our lately published whoreson  
Could not those subtle seeds acquire,  
That sprung and flourished in his Sire;  
He had to balance tother's arts,  
A double stock of natural parts;  
And Politics, Statute Law or Civil,  
Could argue like a little Devil.   

As for Religion, that was best  
That suited with his Interest:  
Sometimes for th' English Church pains taker,  
Dissenter next, and oft a Quaker:  
For that with him did best agree  
That was like him, most slovenly;  
He took first method from their Clothes,  
And next their snuffling through their Nose:  
Read and knew all their ablest men,  
From Naylor down to William P—;  
And could discourse emphatickly,  
On all their Canting Sophistry.  
In brief, to sift him nearer home,  
He was all Sects but that of Rome;  
Sworn by his Sire their Tribe to hate,  
As once was () Hannibal the Great.  
Not Hunters to the wearied Hare,  
Not Fox to Dog, nor Dog to Bear,  
So fatal was, nor feared a Guest  
As Collen to a Baldpate Priest,  
The Ancient Creeds he could maintain,  
Whither th' Apostles or Nicene:  
By dint of solid Argument,  
Confound their Council too of Trent,  
And could knock out as with a Club,  
The very Brains of their Transub;  
By plainest Proofs and common sense,  
Deny their seven Sacraments;  
And to the Church of Eugland do  
The Right▪ to prove there are but two.  
When Humorous Will, or Quaking Zeal,  
For Interest made him not Rebel,  
None could be more a famed Instructor,  
Bawl or Dispute more like a Doctor.   

This Inspired Wight, this more than Span,  
This Renowned Microcosm of Man;  
Major with Counsel Grave and Hearty,  
Strove to bring over to his Party.  
And now upon the same concern,  
Was come to th' door of an Old Barn,  
Where Collen that at Thrift was early,  
Was filling up a Sack with Barley;  
Who after common Compliment,  
Of how dye, Nod, and thank ye, spent,  
He looking up, and seeing a Sager  
Grimage, than used in face of Major;  
Desired him to the House draw near,  
And taste a Cup of his March Beer;  
Which being with surly grace agreed,  
Away they march with no great speed,  
To enter into Parlour low,  
Built for convenience more than show:  
The cleanly inside of the Room,  
Declared its Friendship with the Broom:  
For as in Palace built with Cedar,  
No Spider e'er can be a breeder;  
So here where Rue with Rushes lay,  
You were as fafe from saucy Flea.  
The story of the Prodigal,  
Instead of Arras, decked the Wall:  
With Proclamations mixed, and Votes:  
The Suffering Phiz of Righteous O—.  
jenkin's and Naylors Exhortations;  
And Grizzels Ode, so famed for Patience;  
The thirsty owner did invent  
For cheap and comely Ornament.  
When having given Thirst its due,  
And each had quaffed a quart or two;  
Then for a while, like Topers bred,  
Looked Wise, and no great matter said:  
The Major first began to open,  
And rouse up Collen, half aslopen.   

Quoth he, the ferment of this Beer,  
Which we have drank so largely here,  
Presents me with an apt occasion  
To descant on the srothy Nation:  
The Genius of the Land throughout  
Being much like a large Bowl of Stout:  
For as strange fumes of Brain make seizure  
Of those that in excess take pleasure;  
Which oft cause Rage, & sometimes Scourging,  
Qualms, Head-akes, and obscene disgorging;  
So sares it in this Revolution  
With some that nourished the Confusion;  
Who may perhaps spew out with leisure,  
What they took in with so much pleasure;  
For as none know what cramps our Toes,  
So well as we that wear the Shoes;  
And none can judge of Courts or Factions,  
Till they have studied their transactions,  
Is plain; yet that I may not be  
Guilty of blind Temerity;  
From the first Juncture, to this moment  
I've doubted something ill would come on't.   

At this the subtle Collen scratched  
His Crown, with Sable Tresses thatched;  
And smiled to find his Landlord Tory,  
Still pumping him on the old story.  
But to hear more, thought the best way  
To give him Line, and let him play.  
As skilful Fishers make a shift  
To tyre what is too big to lift.  
This thought was just agreed upon,  
When straight the Major thus went on.   

I came (said he) of a good kind,  
So much to Charity Inclined,  
That even Vagabonds and Mumpers,  
Have from my bounty had full Bumpers.  
The Blind and Cripples in the Street,  
I've oft relieved with broken Meat;  
And many a Christmas Wassail Bowl,  
Has felt the largess of my Soul.  
Nor am I only thus inclined,  
There is a Bounty of the Mind,  
Which th' Ancients call Humanity,  
Still so predominant in me:  
It th' first excels beyond all price,  
That offers Alms, but this Advice▪  
And tho best Rhetoric seems dull,  
When th' Hearers belly is not full;  
Sure ours that are, may give us leave  
To hear, and if we hear, conceive.  
Thou hast for some months passed been falling,  
As surely as thy Name is Collen,  
Into the most absurd mistake,  
That ever sense abused could make,  
And 'twill be difficult I doubt,  
With all my skill to help thee out;  
For as men drowning, wanting senses,  
Drown those that come to their Defences,  
When if they would leave off their plunging,  
They might be freed from watery Dungeon▪  
So I, perhaps, befriending thee,  
May bring myself to jeopardy.  
Dost thou not see, thou lump of Nature,  
Thou ill▪ contrived, unfinished Creature,  
What Ruins this late turn has made,  
By Taxes, and by loss of Trade,  
When still the weight of Court Ambition,  
Falls most on those of thy condition;  
▪ 'tis their tough hands must help the Cause,  
Their Labours back the Church and Laws,  
Else all the Trooping Men of Blood,  
'Tis thought would do but little good.  
Had it not for us better been,  
If th' Pope or Devil himself came in,  
Than thus to involve ourselves in War,  
And plunge our Souls in endless Care,  
By heedless emptying of our Purses,  
Make all our Wives and Children curse us;  
And all these rolling mischiefs gather  
For conscience, yet have none on't neither.  
Did not a Doctor t'other day,  
That since has been forbid to Pray,  
Declare the War to us would bring,  
More ills than any Romish King,  
And though he now is Silenced for't,  
The Phrase was pithy, though 'twas short.  
And many more of the same Mould,  
That Orthodox Opinion hold,  
Which though they Mouth it not in Halls,  
Is frequent in their close Cabals,  
Where they whole Kingdoms, with delight,  
Turn topsy turvy every Night.  
But thou because thy poring Head,  
Has learned to set a mark and read;  
Canst tell when Sheep are to be shorn,  
And brush the Mildew from green Corn;  
Because thy Father, as I hear,  
Was thought to be a Conjurer,  
Dar'st to our Party give offence,  
With dull Inervate fumbling sense,  
And on wrong side thyself discover,  
When I have prayed thee to come over.   

Quoth Collen, That I am a fumbler  
In Wit's as true as you are a grumbler,  
Yet dare affirm, though with submission,  
You are as bad a Politician:  
Dreams, Whimsies, and unquiet Brains,  
In all your buzzing Party reigns,  
Which makes ye argue, rail and fight,  
And think y'are always in the right,  
When I can prove substantially,  
There's none of ye so Just as I,  
For my Religion is not known,  
That yet I e'er did plainly own:  
Yet am so far your Church's friend,  
I can her principles defend,  
▪ 'Gainst all would break or make a flaw,  
In Creeds Established by the Law;  
In all revolves and turns of State,  
Decreed by (what dye call him) Fate.  
What's War but an Extreme to try,  
To do the Nation Justice by,  
When the Necessity o'th' Cause,  
Exacts Defence of Church and Laws?  
For who dares boldly own a Church,  
That dares to leave her in the lurch?  
Pretend he's willing to ensure her,  
Yet grudge at Taxes to secure her,  
As if he thought she could not want  
Aid to her Title Militant,  
But was herself so mighty grown,  
To fight her Battles out alone,  
Whilst all the while the feuds occurred,  
Because, perhaps, ye are not preferred?  
The Nation's in a lost condition,  
Because ye have lost your late Commission;  
Or that the Senate takes occasion,  
To question some late Court Relation,  
You'd seem to abhor Popery,  
Yet hate that any Change should be;  
Neglect the Souls Divine Profession,  
By scrupling Temporal Succession;  
Destroy your Peace and Countries both,  
By kecking at th' Allegiance Oath;  
And though the English Church you own,  
Still do your best to run her down.  
Whilst I the Lump, th'unfinished Cripple  
Prove more the Champion of the People;  
Discovering of a firm neglect  
Of all your stubborn grumbling sect.  
I Popery thrash, as with a flail,  
And tell a plain and open Tale;  
Whose barefaced Reason soon shall be,  
The bane of all Priest Sophistry;  
Confute their () Baptism, Confirmations;  
Their Matrimonial Consecrations:  
Their Eucharist, Orders, Extreme Unction,  
Their Penance too? that worst Injunction,  
With all the other Foppish Gear,  
As easily as drink this Beer.  
When you, that should perform all this;  
Since that Religion you profess;  
In grumbling clubs, your rancour show,  
And now would have me do so too.   

The Major at this devilish shock;  
Looked red, as any Turkeycock;  
And spite of all his subtle Arts▪  
Quite dashed and stun'd, at Collins parts;  
But on a sudden, recollecting,  
And slyly knowing the neglecting  
Of what was said, would look most wise:  
After a fleer or two replies.   

Quoth he, when ere thou gettest half mellow  
Thou art the plaguiest little fellow:  
The soundest Arguments in vain  
Attempt to storm thy Pericrane,  
No proof, though ne'er so much in season,  
Can ever bring thee to hear Reason,  
For as 'tis vain, to grease their Chaps  
With dainties, that are filled with Scraps:  
So bits of Logic, here and there  
Quirks and old Saws which thou dost hear;  
Cram thy conceited brain so full,  
'tis sense lost to trepan thy scull,  
Thy prick-eared Sire taught fallacy,  
Andth ou by natural Industry,  
Framing a Lie, canst make it proved  
Art's Cousin german once removed:  
For though thou twit'st me with my pause  
Of Action, in the Church's cause;  
My grumbling at th' unquiet times,  
Taxes, and disobedient Crimes;  
And slyly wouldst thyself imply,  
A better friend to th' State than I:  
I'll prove, that know the Cheat too well,  
thou'rt of a sect used to rebel:  
A Canter, an assembly Man;  
A true blue Presbyterian;  
And sometimes as the Saints agree,  
A Quaker for variety:  
I know thou canst our cause dispute:  
Thou canst, but didst thou ever do't?  
Vast odds there is to either faction:  
Betwixt capacity, and action;  
Strong Decrement, and difference too:  
Between I can do't, and I do:  
Have I not known this many years?  
Thy Love to th' Tribe with the long Ears,  
Where primming Sister, Aunt, or Coz;  
Tune their warm Zeal, with Hum and Buz:  
And bobtailed Rogues are zealous at it,  
On purpose to affront the Statute.  
Did I not hear thee splutter once,  
Because one called Hugh Peter's dunce,  
And swear that Chaplain of Old Noll  
Out-preached the Bishops, at White-Hall:  
That Baxter's call to th' Unconverted  
Had force, even on the marble hearted:  
Nay, in unhappy ay— s's days  
Thou didst, or I'm mistaken, praise  
His acts of Grace, who styled ye Friends,  
Because ye suited to his Ends,  
And knew to ruin th' Churches hope;  
Rather than them, you'd bring the Pope:  
How comes (I fain would know) th' Abuses?  
The jarring late between the Houses?  
But by your party Synogoguish,  
Not half so Politic, as Roguish;  
That for their Interest, or, for Hire  
Make Brands, to set us all on fire:  
Yet thou a little shrub, or worse,  
A block for one, to mount a Horse;  
A Hodgepodge of the Sciences,  
Designed by fate, in wit's disgrace,  
Darest with bold confidence direct me,  
And though my Vassals contradict me.   

Quoth Collen, Tho I am your Tenant;  
Take heed how you affront the Senate:  
And so by Testy Will misled,  
Bring an old House upon your head.  
As for myself, what's said of me,  
My Person, or Rusticity;  
It only gives me leave to guests,  
The force of your uneasiness:  
Shrub, or what else to me's the same,  
If men can know me by that name:  
And though you're framed more large by nature,  
What are you tall Boys ere the better?  
Unless you mean, to pride yourselves  
For reaching Cheeses, from high shelves.  
Hows that? quoth Major, Hold quoth Collen  
I am not such a Knipperdollin;  
Not to allow as the case stands,  
That you are stronger of your hands;  
But that your tongues, your heads, or hearts,  
Your judgements, or your other parts;  
Excel in virtual faculty:  
Craving your pardon, I deny.  
Then granting that I am a Whig:  
As you the question seem to beg:  
It there should get the upper hand too:  
What Church I ever own I'll stand too;  
This war would little have to do:  
Would all you grumblers do so too,  
I am for Union in the Main:  
What ere opinion I maintain:  
For England's wrongs, can ne'er be righting,  
Where fractions are, and disuniting:  
Join all against the common Foe:  
And then see what the French can do;  
I heard a tale related once,  
Of an Old man that had three Sons,  
Always at Jars, and making pothers;  
That is, agreeing just like Brothers:  
He having long observed their tricks,  
One day a bundle fetched of Sticks,  
And bade each severally take it,  
And try with all his force to break it:  
This being not likely to be done,  
He then to each of them gives one,  
Which was, with very slight endeavours  
By each as quickly broke in shivers.  
My Sons, said he, such is your state,  
This is the Emblem of your fate;  
In union join, you danger shun;  
But sever and you're all undone.  
Zounds, quoth the Major, I am well  
Acquainted with this parallel.  
But how can we a union make?  
When no one knows which side to take;  
To make the Reasons better known:  
Let's both resolve a march to Town:  
And that I'm generous, thou mayst say,  
I'll bear thy charges all the way,  
There, if thou dost not find such Flaugers,  
Such Scoundrels, Pimps, and Pettifoggers;  
Such Crowds of Priests, in Parson's Gowns;  
And against the Government such frowns:  
That shall thee to their side unite,  
And fix thee for a jacobite,  
Thou shalt no more be ruled by me,  
But I'll come over, strait to thee.   

Agreed, quoth Collen, I shan't win,  
Or lose aught by't, now Harvests in;  
And though there is an awkward Fear  
Hangs o'er me, cause I ne'er was there,  
That my Behaviour may not yoke,  
With the nice Princums' of that Folk:  
There's one that will my pains repay,  
That owes me Twenty Pounds for Hay:  
Pleasure with Profit, say the Ancients,  
Is best, when we take care o'th' main Chance;  
And though I am not so Exotic  
As he you call a Rank Fanatic:  
Yet I must own the pleasingst Duty  
Is, when Religion's mixed with Booty.  
This said, they topped off t'other Quart,  
Then for that Time agreed to part,  
Major to get his Horse, and Pistols,  
And Collen too, to furbish his Tools;  
Resolved for th' Town their Course to bend,  
And a whole week in pleasure spend;  
Now mouldy Boots, well suppled were  
And dragged from Grass, the Pyballed Mare,  
Panel with Girts on either side,  
And Head in Halter trimly tied,  
Expecting when her doughty Rider  
Should Settle either Leg beside her,  
Which in a day or two being done,  
And Collen with grey Jacket on,  
And long Toledo hanging just  
At hand, well oiled to hinder Rust,  
Made his first Onset on the way,  
To meet the Major Cap-a-pee:  
The Neighbour's thought, they saw a vision,  
All wondering at their Expedition;  
And every clouted Ploughman stairs  
At Collins Graces, and his Mares;  
Where now we'll leave 'em, to pursue  
The Journey with our mighty two:  
Who after three days tiresome Jogging,  
On Sunday even found their lodging.  
An Inn, where Guests well treated were  
Near to a place called Temple-Bar:  
When having set their Horses up here,  
And took an Egg or two for Supper,  
Each soon complained of drowsy Head,  
And by agreement went to Bed,  
Where tired Nature Sleep repairs,  
And locks their Senses from their Cares.  
But what befell them when they rose;  
The Second Canto shall disclose.   
The End of the First Canto.   

MONDAY's Walk.  
Argument of the Second Canto.  

The walk begun, the Rabble flock  
Round Collen, at Saint Dunstan's Clock;  
Who arguing on the naked Figures,  
Was likely to be whipped like Beggars,  
Till Major out of Christian Pity  
Relieved, and dragged him into th' City;  
Which happening on a Lord Mayor's day,  
They both fall into another Fray.   
CANTO II.  

NOw had the Goddess of the Year  
Long flourished in her Summer Geer,  
And envious Autumn in Revenge  
With dust had spoiled her green Fountange,  
When our two worthies came to Town:  
To make their different Tenets known:  
Who, having risen from their Couches,  
Awaked with London Cries and Coaches,  
Their Host in getting Breakfast busied,  
And to their Steeds made formal visit;  
From Lodging door, they marched away,  
To make the Progress of the day,  
And passing under Temple-Bar,  
Collen whose business 'twas to stare,  
Oagling about, on t'other side  
Over the Gate, aloft had spied,  
The Image, of that Royal Maid  
That forty Years this Nation swayed:  
Defending it victoriously,  
Against the Devil, and Popery,  
This object had so charmed his Noddle;  
And tipped his Tongue to begin Prattle,  
There would have been a speech no doubt here,  
Had not the Coaches thronged about here,  
So thick they did of force prevent  
His Honours, and his Compliment,  
Besides a Jog from th' Major, who  
Now found, 'twould be some work to do  
Justice, and make the Mob forbear  
Gibes on his fellow Traveller.   

Near th' place where Shoals of Lawyers live,  
And by the Subjects ruin thrive,  
There stands an ancient House of Prayer,  
Which is by those inhabit near;  
Yclept St. Dunstan's, and so named  
From that blessed () Saint of old so famed;  
That with the Devil, hand to fist,  
Once argued on our Saviour Christ,  
Who finding all the proofs but fictions,  
That Satan, though his Contradictions  
Were answered, yet, would still oppose,  
Made bold to take him by the Nose,  
And right the Church, and his own Wrongs  
With a huge pair of Red-hot Tongues:  
Since when his fame so much is prized,  
And by the Town so Canonised:  
His Piety, and Worth's expressed  
Even from the East; unto the West;  
His Picture published, and his Power,  
From th' Chapel, to the Tavern door.  
Close to this Holy Wall there stands  
An Engine built by human hands:  
To show the depth of mortal Sense;  
And prove Mechanic Excellence:  
Two Savages armed with Battoons,  
On Bells, make here alternate Sounds,  
T' express the Power of Art sublime,  
And show us how we waste our Time,  
Daily, by this we teach our Eyes,  
Or Ears, the proper Time to rise;  
And as much stands us too in stead:  
Instruct us when to go to Bed;  
The Town so much is ruled by this,  
Some Students make Hypothesis,  
That did it not the hour repeat,  
Men knew not when to go to Meat;  
Or take it in a nicer way,  
Not when to dine, or when to pray  
Such Miracles it could impart▪  
By mystic Horologick Art:  
And now had drawn great numbers thither,  
Of all Degrees, commixed together  
The naked Savages to see  
Perform their hidden Mystery;  
Who yearly had the hour made known,  
And Day, and Night, each quarter shown.   

Amongst the Crowd, this famed devise▪  
Haddit now attracted by the Eyes  
Collins concern was none o'th' least:  
His precise Sense could not digest  
Figures so near the House of Prayer  
Undecently should stand so bare,  
Therefore though Major backward drew him  
Foreknowing what would happen to him:  
With voice most audible, and high;  
Thus eased himself, on those were by,   

I am, quoth he, just come to Town:  
And if I had beforehand known,  
What I perceive now comes to pass,  
My Mare should ne'er have stirred from Grass▪  
At least, to give me the Occasion  
Of noting this Abomination;  
Well may our Brethren rail at Churches,  
When thus their guilty Walls, and Porches  
Are slandered, with the Effigies  
Of Savage Beasts, and Nudities;  
What greater Sin can be? or folly?  
Than to mix Shameful things with Holy;  
Where Saints and Cherubs should have been,  
To place two Fiends with parts Obscence;  
Who but for Rag tacked round the Wast,  
Would even from Senses fright the chaste,  
Those that will take the pains to read  
May hear of () Aethiop's indeed,  
Where those of either Sex still wore,  
No other Robes but flappes before;  
And if they met Friend or Relation,  
To show their breeding, 'twas the Fashion  
To turn the Flap a little by,  
And show each other Courtesy,  
Which passed as well with them, as now  
With us, a Courtesy or a Bow;  
In Africa this might apt appear,  
But 'twould be Devilish manners here:  
Suppose this Savage swollen with Pride,  
Should Beastlike turn his Flap aside;  
Which, with this hand he might as well,  
As with the other strike the Bell;  
What shame would that be to a Nation?  
That boasts of a true Reformation,  
If merit (as 'tis said) be known  
By the discreet Behaviour shown,  
A gentile or a surly Boar  
Found by his Porter at the Door,  
How much more in our preaching Houses,  
Ought we to punish such Abuses,  
When wicked, rude, and beastly Forms  
Idolatrous, the Wall adorns.  
This said, with hoarse ungrateful tone,  
He looked about to get a stone,  
Fully resolved to be revenging  
The Cause, upon that savage Engine;  
But finding in the stubborn street,  
The Flints were all to fast to get,  
His wonder greater than before,  
This urged fermenting rage the more,  
What strange uncouth and barbarous Nation,  
And to what cursed Generation  
Am I arrived, where I must see,  
And not rebuke Impiety?  
Where even their stones deny Assistance,  
As if they thought 'twould be a Mischance  
To trample on that Idol Log,  
That Savage Heathen Demagog,  
That with Intention lewd, as vain,  
Stands tinkling with those Bells profane.  
How far do we excel with voices  
Bells, Organs, and such carnal Noises?  
When pious Sister strains her Graces,  
And tunes her Treble to our Bases;  
Devotion needs no artful aid,  
For when the sacrifice is made  
We're sure our Zeal to Heaven doth go,  
Whether it be in Tune, or no:  
Tho the harmonious part we knew,  
Be as Dogs howl, or as Cat's mew:  
Aid me then Friends, and quickly I  
Will maul that Type of Popery,  
That Engineer of Belzebub,  
That Roman Hercules with the Club,  
That stands there to amuse the Nation,  
With hourly seats of Conjuration,  
Aid all I say, to rout this Pagan,  
This second Cheat of Bell and Dragon;  
For those that not assist his fall,  
I pronounce Slaves, and Cuckolds all.  
Scarce could the wrathful Collen reach,  
To the bold Finis of his Speech,  
But all the Crowd were drawn about him,  
Some to admire, but most to flout him,  
Mongst whom, a Carman that stood by  
And long had gazed, with envious Eye,  
On that ungrateful mein of his,  
His strange attire, and stranger Phiz;  
Thus loudly made his Anger roar:   

Thou Son of carted Northern Whore,  
Thou Splaysoot, blind fanatic Rogue?  
How dost thou dare? to disembogue  
Thy filth, without a thousand lives,  
Against our Credits, and our Wives;  
In all this stuff thou hast o'errun,  
What hath thy canting dogship done  
But rallied on an harmless Clock,  
That in one hour, more truth hath spoke,  
By help of those assisting clubs,  
Than all your Tribe in all their Tubs?  
As I can plainly make appear  
From the Creation, to this Year:  
But since you come (Sir Presbyter)  
From Ploughing to affront us here,  
'tis reason, being met together,  
That we should give you welcome hither.  
At this his whip with knotted Lash  
Lifted by arm as Strong, as Rash,  
Round Collins shoulders () smartly twanged,  
And thrice the well wove Russet banged,  
ere he would give him leave to breath,  
Or Bilbo good from case unsheathe;  
Which now being brandished in the Air,  
Resolved, lost honour to repair,  
But all alast in vain, for now;  
The Mobile had rumoured how  
That colin's Zeal had been so foolish  
To swear, the Church he would demolish.  
And all were closing up to thump him,  
Or as a newer sport to pump him;  
When Pallas () who designed to save  
If possible, the brains she gave,  
From sturdy tough Battoons that batter,  
As well as Cataracts of Water:  
Whispered into the Major's Ear,  
To act a Wapping Press Master,  
And so his Neighbour off to bring,  
Under pretence to serve the King,  
This plot was put in Execution,  
Just as those clods of Resolution,  
That filthy nest of suburb Vermin  
Were thronging up t'assist the Carman,  
Who still in spite of colin's drawing,  
Was back and sides with Whipcord tawing,  
Till Major by the trick aforesaid  
Released him, though perhaps with sore side,  
And drew him from the Crowd away,  
As if he'd send him strait to Sea:  
But scarce had they a Furlong gone,  
From place where this bold feat was done,  
When Collen that with Whipping fight,  
Felt himself but in evil plight;  
By th' Testy Major was harranged  
And with as sharp brow beating banged.   

Is't possible, quoth he, thou dull  
Insensible Jolt-headed Fool,  
That thou dar'st ever have pretence  
To any Argument of Sense;  
Yet be so sordid thus to get,  
A flauging, by mere want of wit,  
Canst thou, O Dunce, discover Flaws  
And Failings in the Nation's cause,  
Yet not be gifted to be able  
Through Prudence, to avoid the Rabble,  
That thus have whipped thee like a stock,  
And for the silliest cause, a Clock;  
Why? what a Devil had it been  
To thee, if Peter () Aretine  
With 〈◊〉 his Nudities, and Postures,  
Had decked the Walls or inward Cloisters?  
Or if those Figures there that tell  
The minutes passing, on that Bell,  
Whom thou comparest in senseless chat  
To Ethiopes, and the Devil knows what,  
Stood there, exposing Bums as bare  
As first, we too the Midwife were;  
Was it for thee with that one Eye,  
To peep into their Privity,  
With solid Confidence reveal,  
What they with Aprons do conceal,  
And saucily, become Director  
Of Temples, and their Architcture,  
Revile the Church, and run it down,  
Because thou art thyself of none;  
But like thy Tribe of canting Widgeons,  
A Gallimaufry of Religions;  
Make the established one to feel,  
The claws of blind Republic Zeal:  
And so procure for thy own back  
A just reward, of stripe and thwack,  
Laid on with such entire good Will,  
That had not I with dextrous skill,  
Appeared i'th' Nick to help thee from't;  
As thou art slashed, thou hadst been pumped.   

Pumped, answered Collen, pray impart,  
The meaning of that Term of Art;  
Lest I should construe it amiss,  
And think it worse than it is.  
Pumped, cries the Major, who might see  
By this, his Neighbour's Vacancy,  
His Ignorance, and gross Defect;  
In the Town Tricks, and dialect,  
Pumped in my sense, is cooling Courage;  
When th' People for diversion, or rage;  
Do punish Pickpockets, or Whores,  
For filching, or too fond Amours:  
A decent Guerdon too for Bailiffs,  
That lurk in close By-Lanes and Alleys,  
Or lie perdue in some blind Alehouse,  
To nab some needy honest Fellows:  
But being seized, and hampered first;  
Are carried strait to quench their Thirst,  
To a strange Wooden kind of Fountain,  
That doth great store of Water contain;  
And there without a cup to fill,  
Are forced to drink against their Will,  
When great Civility appears,  
If they get safely off with Ears,  
To men the Source on th' head descends,  
But th' women on their nether ends;  
Cold Water being thought from thence,  
Best purger of Concupiscence:  
And thus had it not been for me,  
They certainly had watered thee.   

Quoth Collen, that abhorred Invention,  
As modern Histories do mention,  
Was first made to revenge a grudge  
Owed to the English by the Dutch;  
Who at Amboyna sewed in Leather,  
Were gorged with drink, whole days together;  
And now to further bearish powers,  
Is learned by th' English Sons of Whores,  
A Race most famous known to be▪  
For Mastiffs, and for Mobile;  
'Tis true indeed this Canine usage,  
Was customary in the jews age:  
But in a sober Christian Nation,  
Shows little like a Reformation;  
Where purblind Rage no Judgement grants,  
To know the Sinners, from the Saints:  
But impudently turn Correctors  
Of men, designed for their Instructors:  
Blindly to every mischief bend,  
Affront the civil Government;  
Which was in this late turn designed,  
For the relief of all Mankind:  
In which if I could once mistrust,  
One false step, or an Act unjust;  
A siding with our Roman Foes,  
Or breach of Coronation Vows;  
That falsehood, I should ne'er endure,  
But turn a Grumbler too, as you are;  
For Loyalty is not still the same,  
If we are cheated in the Game:  
Nor can the Dial's truth be known,  
If it be never shined upon.  
Action makes Virtue greater be,  
Than its dull Passive Quality:  
Or else my late Affronts, and Stripes,  
Which of my Merit are the Types,  
Were as propitious and as kind,  
As if I had done the thing designed:  
Which tho bystanders should receive,  
I should in my sense believe,  
Reason and Argument are good,  
Just only as they're understood.  
This was the prize, which late I sought,  
And my Instruction proved my Fault.   

He (quoth the Major) that would teach  
The Rabble Reason, with a Speech,  
Is like one pleading to a Fry  
Of Barbarous Arthropophagis,  
Or singing Sonnets, or Love Tales,  
To a rude Race of Cannibals;  
When all he gets by his soft Sport,  
Is th' sooner to be eaten for't.   

With such Discourse, as true as witty;  
They got into the heart o'th' City,  
To the best Mart in Christendom,  
Nick-nam'ed the Old-Exchange were come,  
A place renowned for the Access  
Of Nations, and of Languages;  
Citts, Saylors, Sheriffs with Gold Chain;  
Cuckolds, and Common Council men;  
Lords, Lawyers, Livery-men here meet,  
And one another daily cheat:  
And though it doth in Records appear,  
That the Foundation is but Pepper;  
The upper part makes great amends,  
Which shows to their admiring Friends,  
A Row of English Queens and Kings,  
With Globes, and Sceptres, and fine things;  
Some whole, and some through Anger broke,  
As if they had disdained the Yoke  
Of Royal Slavery, amongst those,  
Who their Obedience Passive, lose,  
But amongst all the mighty rest,  
One placed alone below, looked best:  
Charles by command of divine Grace,  
With lofty Mein, and Lion Face,  
Stoood Solus, as if thought to be  
Too good for tother's Company.  
No sooner had the Major seen,  
The Furrows of that Phiz serene;  
When with his Eyes fixed on the ground,  
He made a Reverence so profound,  
That Collen firmly did suppose  
He touched the Pavement with his Nose:  
Then stepping back to former station,  
To Figure Royal, begins Oration.   

Thou best beloved of all thy Race,  
That stands i'th' cold to deck this place,  
Permit me with a due Complaisance,  
At thy great Foot to pay Obeisance;  
Behold me here oppressed with Dolours,  
A tattered Remnant of thy Colours;  
A poor Disbanded Officer,  
That once for thee did Half-pike bear:  
And though the quiet of thy Reign,  
Kept me from Fights where men are slain;  
None e'er in Peace did Dirt-pye Storm  
More fierce, nor seats of War perform.  
True happiness no Age can have,  
Whose Monarch is not Wise and Brave;  
The witty Coward, or hardy Fool,  
Being equally unfit to rule:  
And both of these thou didst enjoy;  
Or one that could 'em both supply.  
Hadst thou but missed Fit Apoplectic,  
I question whither a French Sceptic,  
Would at this day have found our Nation,  
A Subject for his Contemplation;  
That Wit that always bubbled us,  
Had found a War Incongruous,  
And ne'er relied a future Reign  
On dint of blow, but dint of brain.  
Ah! Were't not for the Nauseous Tools,  
Thy pimping Knaves and cringing Fools,  
Heaven ne'er thy equal gave to sway,  
A Land so gifted to obey:  
Scarce did the florid Major reach  
To this part of his lofty Speech,  
When through the Repercussive Air,  
We're heard the several noises near  
Of squealing Fise, and sullen Drum,  
As if some Enemy were come.  
This odd surprise began to scare  
Collen, not used to sounds of War,  
Till the bold Major's heart of Oak,  
This panic trouble did rebuke,  
And took him thence to make their Eyes,  
And Ears, true Judges of the Noise:  
Which soon as they got off th' Exchange,  
Were filled with accidents more strange,  
The Street was filled with numerous throngs '  
Of all Sects, Qualities and Tongues,  
Shapes, Ages, Factions, and Degrees,  
Bedaubed and daggled to their Knees;  
And more to grace the days renown,  
Carpets hung out, and Windows down,  
And as if Pompey were to come  
To Triumph here, as once at Rome:  
Balconies full as they could hold,  
Of Rich and Poor, of Young and Old,  
All crowded in a Lump to see  
The approaching great Solemnity;  
Fireworks with whizzing noise and smothers,  
Diverting some, and scorching others;  
With scent Ambrosial of Salt Petre,  
Served here to make the Pomp the greater:  
And as an Emperor, () or Fame lies,  
Was famous for his sport with Flies▪  
So here Nobility in Garters,  
Were throwing Squibs amongst the Carters,  
Which though the sport be mean, 'tis true,  
Is much the Manlier of the two,  
Danger accrueing oft this manner;  
And where there's Danger must be Honour.  
The Major, whose stout Heart would not  
Have budged an inch from Cannon shot,  
From this Plebeian sort of Fire,  
Engaged his Wisdom to retire;  
For as the Noble Beasts of Prey,  
That in wide Arden's Forest stray,  
Whose Rage no Weapons e'er can tame,  
Are frighted at the sight of flame,  
So he from his first Infant Bib,  
Was scared at th' Entrails of a Squib,  
And through half prudence, and half fear,  
Retreated now to corner near,  
With Collen, where they all might see,  
Without the burning Jeopardy;  
Where skulking close from harm perdue,  
He thus began t' unfold the show:   

Quoth he, these Fireworks do display,  
That this must be the Lord-Mayors-Day;  
And see 'tis further now confirmed  
By Whifflers, with white switches armed,  
Who march before the Members tough,  
Of th' old Artillery in Buff.  
Observe how well their Feathers shake,  
And how the Damsels hearts do ache,  
To see their Aproned Loves with Pride,  
In Scarves (as sine as can be) tied;  
See then the Custard-eating Curs,  
Set up in Pillories of Furs,  
With Saffron Phiz, and Malmsy Nose,  
Come after, two and two in rows.  
Note here the City Pride, but hold  
By that Caparison of Gold,  
That loads the Buttocks of yond Beast,  
That sure must be my Lord at least;  
'Tis so, those two that there beride him,  
And with such Graces Prance beside him,  
In Pomp Infallibly Declare,  
Themselves the Sheriffs; he the Mayor,  
That for a Twelvemonth acts a King,  
And when that's ended, Any thing.  
View next the Aldermen in braces,  
With honest, and with loyal faces,  
Wrapped round in Fur from arm to arm,  
To keep their Wit and Courage warm.  
Our London Magis by perception,  
More potent than the Old Egyptian;  
For as they could to any Nation,  
Breath good or ill by Divination,  
So ours by Necromantic Purse,  
Know when the times go well, or worse,  
Raise or build Forts both strong and stony,  
By mighty Magic (that is) Money.  
What's that, quoth Collen, preeping out,  
Hearing them make another shout,  
That glitters so amongst the folks;  
Quoth Major, 'tis the King, Gadzookes:  
His Coach, I mean, and he within,  
And what's more glittering, the Queen.  
I warrant thou seest nothing now;  
A Pox upon thee, thou'rt so low,  
Thy grovelling Eyes no sight can use,  
Above the Lappets of one's Shoes.  
At this the little Imp, on's back  
And shoulders high, a pick a pack  
He strongly sets, that he might see,  
With ease, the face of Royalty;  
Which just as he to do prepared,  
A Member of the Shirtless Guard,  
Was letting off a Squib so near,  
It almost touched the Majors Ear.  
Not great Achilles, when he found  
Upon his Heel the Mortal Wound,  
Which Paris, of Old Priam's Race,  
Foreknew the Vulnerable place,  
Had half the Lust to be revenging,  
As at the sight of Whizzing Engine.  
The Major, who with thump on shoulder,  
Oth' Hand just ready to fire Powder,  
Strait threw the Machination down,  
With Collen, who was Ogling round,  
From Back, where he exalted sat,  
Like Wren upon the Eagles pate,  
To find out glorious Majesty;  
But now reduced to low degree,  
By th' Major, who with sudden start,  
Aside, had thrown him into th' Dirt,  
In kennel sowced o'er Head and Ears,  
Amongst the crowding Wappineers.  
Who can express the rage and pother,  
The Rabble made, that saw their Brother,  
By the fierce Major thus affronted,  
Thus struck, and Firework thus dismounted;  
Who following Dictates of first fury,  
Unmindful of approaching hurry,  
By that Vile Type o'th' Powder Treason,  
Enraged and scared beyond his Reason,  
Boldly, though rashly, still made head  
Against the Wight that did the Deed.  
Who having sense recovered now,  
So late amused by ponderous blow,  
Courageously retorted back,  
Stout Cuff for Cuff, and thwack for thwack,  
So quick, that as in Homer's Verse,  
If you'll believe what he declares,  
When Hector with blunt Ajax buckled,  
In six hours' fight, yet neither Truckled;  
The Gods that were of either side,  
Looked down with Joy to see the fight.  
So those that had nought else to do,  
'Tis very probable might know.  
The blood that followed either's blows,  
Had yet not injured much their Clothes;  
For Fate, that Acts of War disposes,  
Made all the hurt light on their Noses,  
Till Venus, who of all the Bodies  
Celestial, is the kindest Goddess,  
And for God Mars' Gallantry,  
Owed a good turn to Chivalry,  
Petitioned jove, that th' Major might  
Have now the better of the fight:  
Which had effect, for jove that knew her,  
And ever had a kindness to her,  
Not only as she was his Daughter,  
But in another kind of matter,  
Had now resolved upon the manner,  
To right the Major and his Honour.  
Now fist and face in conflict met,  
So hard the noise rung o'er the Street,  
The glorious Wreath of Victory,  
Neither seeming yet to be,  
When th' hardy Major, skilled in Wars,  
To make quick end of fight prepares,  
By Strength o'er buttock cross to hawl him,  
And with a trip i'th' Inturn maul him.  
But Breeches Aged could not defend,  
Fierce tug of hand so used to rend,  
But yielding up Posteriours bare,  
To th' Victor's power, and open Air,  
Who with the gripe so strong did seize,  
That down he came on hands and knees,  
On whom the Major gets astride,  
Swearing he'd ride him through Cheapside.  
But scarce had he that Penance named,  
When the rest o'th' Mobile ashamed,  
To see their Brother thus o'ercome,  
And make a Pageant of his Bum,  
Were driving Collen up before 'em,  
To revenge Breeches on him tore 'em.  
He from hard Shoes, and harder Clubbs,  
Had got some stores of kicks and drubs;  
Some laughing at his Beard and Mien,  
And some his Russet Gaberdine,  
Which they resolved from back to slice,  
And each to carry off a piece,  
To make full restitution  
For Damage to their Comrade done.  
This fatal Mischief so well hatched,  
Had bred worse ills, had not jove Watched  
The time when Groves of Clubs came on,  
And Major had drawn () Dirundan,  
To send a Troop their strifes to quell,  
Commanded by a Constable;  
A Wight of Conduct great, and Powers,  
Especially at Midnight hours,  
When in his Wooden Throne he sits,  
To judge without, of others Wits,  
To put the puzzling questions too,  
Of whence d'ye come, and where d'ye go:  
And when the minutes Twelve repeat,  
Profoundly tell us that 'tis late;  
Then with his Guard in State retire,  
To Smoak and Tope by Sea-coal fire.  
This Warrior, with his Cavalcade,  
Came up to give his timely Aid,  
Just as the Crowd afresh were falling  
Upon the Major and poor Collen;  
Who e'er relieved from their distress,  
Had got some fifty thumps apiece,  
But now were freed from bruise and shame,  
And Prisoners made in the Kings made.  
And as Delinquent here of late,  
A bawling Cormorant of State,  
Was friendly refuged in the Tower,  
To save him from the Rabbles power▪  
So they in Cage, though base, yet safe,  
Were fixed, and from the Foe drawn off:  
The homely place was much unfit,  
For so much Valour, so much Wit,  
As being a Mansion that receives,  
Few else but straggling Whores and Thiefs;  
And now unfurnished did appear,  
Without a Couch, or Stool, or Chair,  
Till th' Major found a heap of Stones,  
On which he placed his battered Bones;  
And Collen, to his comfort, saw  
In corner, a small heap of straw:  
Where having sat him down for ease,  
His drooping Head 'twixt Hands and Knees,  
He pondered on th' Unfortunate  
And various turns of Humane State.  
Some minutes then erected sight,  
And seeing the Major in ill plight,  
Who though he got the Victory,  
As many bruises had as he;  
Well knowing he had now most cause,  
For Argument, thus broke the Pause:   

How well, quoth he, by this late passage,  
That has befallen us without presage,  
Do I the various frailties see,  
Incumbent on Mortality.  
Is't not a Miracle to find,  
In th' solid part of Human kind,  
So few that can appear so wise,  
To act the things they can advise?  
But that they must to dangers run,  
Which they have others taught to shun,  
And so convince us by the way,  
That no Men know the Truths they say?  
Was I not railed at, called a dull  
Insensible Jolt-headed fool,  
For acting of a far less fault  
Than that which has us hither brought?  
And shall I not, with reverence low,  
Presume to ask who's the Jolt-head now?  
Whose Wit has brought us to this Palace,  
To which the next place is the Gallows?  
Although 'tis true, 'tis better far  
Than to be drubbed as late we were.  
If solid reason in a Speech,  
Could not their fordid Judgements reach,  
But that I suffer must the Lash,  
From Scoundrels Ignorant and rash,  
For all has hitherto befell,  
I might have stayed at home as well.  
I thought when we to th' City got,  
I should have heard off some new plot,  
Seen some Cabal or Popish frolic,  
Or hear the Grumblers cure their Colic,  
On which, with argument prevalent  
I might have exercised my Talon,  
Or when his Majesty came by,  
And I was mounted up so high,  
Your sudden tumbling me down  
Dashed my Aspring at the Crown,  
I thought my Eyes might soon caress him,  
And that my Tongue might cry God bless him;  
But missed both— for i'th' contrary,  
All that has been my luck to see,  
Is myself here well whipped and kicked,  
And now penned up in durance strict,  
Where we like Rats are shut together,  
To chew on th'bait that snared us hither.  
What think you Sir, if we should try  
To gain our quondam Liberty?  
By knawing of their bars and stones,  
Or force the Locks with rueful Groans;  
Provoke men's pity on our cases,  
By peeping out with bearded faces;  
Tho us they'd ne'er the sooner bail out,  
Than vermin when it puts its Tail out;  
Yet this would full as wise appear,  
As th'action that has brought us here.   

Quoth Major, thy late smarting pain  
Has caused the Sharpness of thy Brain,  
Which I because I did procure,  
Have now more patience to endure.  
Coagulated blood doth settle,  
And oft put bounds to manly mettle,  
Till stirring action sets it free,  
To show acute Ability.  
Thus thy late warming exercise,  
Makes thy Orations now more wise;  
For as 'tis said in Poetry,  
Each fancy takes its best degree;  
When we with jolly Bacchus join,  
And raise the Genius high with Wine,  
So solid beating without doubt  
Is the best cause of wise dispute,  
The Soul and Spirits being more  
Alarmed than they were before,  
Nay, fear of beeting may in some  
Produce the same, as once at Rome,  
For as, when Catiline a League  
Had made the Senators to fegue,  
And () strumpet had told Marcus Tully,  
The close intentions of that Bully,  
He not so much the cause revenging  
O'th' State, as t' hinder his own swinging,  
Made the best speech to quell that strife,  
('tis said) that e'er he made in's Life,  
Since when, 'tis sound upon Record,  
In th' () Tragedy, writ word for word:  
So thou since frighted by the Rabble,  
Hast spoke like him most admirable,  
And though my Wit thou dost explode,  
I will not by a () Palinode  
My reason in a deed repel,  
Because it has not happened well,  
Fortune the curse of human lives,  
Still, against greatest merits strives,  
Fools she is ready to advance  
By luck, or dull Inheritance;  
But th' wise from rugged Rock and Shelves  
O'th' World, still leaves to help themselves,  
And though this latter Enterprise▪  
Through passions heat showed not so wise;  
'twill spite of Fate some honour have,  
For no one can deny 'twas brave,  
And valour is not prized the less,  
Because sometimes it wants success;  
No more than worth in running Horses,  
That through Misfortune lose their courses.   

Here, Major stopped, but not through want  
Of Wit, to further his complaint,  
But that he saw the Wight appear,  
Whose Charity had placed 'em there,  
Who to the Major kindness bore,  
Because he had been one before,  
In th' former civil wars, though now,  
Compelled to an Estate more low,  
Keeping a Cottage for good Fellows,  
To quaff off cares in, called an Alehouse,  
Who now with grace and good assurance,  
Releasing both from stony durance,  
Entreated 'em now they were loose  
To accept a lodging at his house,  
They who with bountiful dry basting,  
Knew well their bones had need of resting,  
As readily received the offer,  
With as good will as he could proffer:  
For, now had Sol his vigour lost,  
And tired himself by riding Post;  
And to the Regent of the Moon,  
Resigned the Empire he laid down;  
When our two Worthies came with haste,  
To Cottage decked with sign and post;  
Where I will leave 'em both to snore,  
And rest my Muse as once before.   
The End of the Second Canto.   

TUESDAY's Walk.  
The Argument of the Third Canto.  

Bruised Collen now his walk does choose  
To Westminster to hear the the News;  
But being by the Weavers frighted,  
From thence to Dinner is invited;  
Where finding as disputes arise,  
A jesuit in strange disguise:  
Th' harangues between him and the Priest,  
May serve to furnish out the Feast.   
CANTO III.  

AS no Man ever undertook  
To give a reason for ill luck,  
So 'tis as difficult to all,  
To know the time misfortunes fall;  
Or guess the Crisis of our Fate,  
In various turns of human State;  
This by our worthies late was proved,  
Who now from Lodging being removed;  
Where Major nobly paid the Shot,  
And returned thanks with parting Pot:  
They now resolved their course to steer,  
For the famed Port of Westminster,  
When Landing near the Ancient Hall,  
Where Clients sweat and Lawyers bawl;  
And entering bluntly, Collen sees,  
A crowd of Folks of all degrees;  
All buzzing too and fro like Bees.  
A confused mixture of all Nations:  
Fleers, Cringes, Nods, and Salutations;  
From Lords in debt to Purple Judges,  
And Coopees low from Pauper drudges:  
Whispering, Laughing, Threatening, Railing,  
Imprisoning some, and others Bailing;  
From Sergeant grave, with busy Face,  
To dagled Gown that hides an Ass;  
Degrees of Law both high and low,  
Made here the substance of the show;  
As soon as Collen entered in,  
All Eyes were cast upon his Mein;  
Unless 'twere those that aspire  
Before, to gaze on his Attire:  
Some did his Beard with Oagling greet,  
Others admired his Erring Feet;  
And all believed a just occasion,  
To have his parts in Admiration:  
For Beauty and Deformity,  
Are equal still in this degree,  
Tho not alike the same desirers;  
They always have the same admirers:  
Nor was he much concerned at this,  
Believing they admired his phiz;  
As if from thence they subtly guessed,  
The hidden virtues in his breast:  
Consult the World and you shall see  
Most People, share this vanity;  
Who when upon 'em others gaze  
Believe 'tis for peculiar grace;  
When it may often chance to be  
Directly for the contrary:  
But to go on, whilst Collen there  
Drew all the optics far and near,  
Upon the outworks of his person  
Some through distaste, but most diversion;  
The Major gave him a soft Jog,  
And thus began the Dialogue.  
Within these Walls thou may'st, quoth he,  
Note the great World's Epitome;  
Where all degrees of humans bustle,  
And one another strive to puzzle:  
The most profane, and most religious,  
Here being equally Litigious;  
There where that noise the People draws,  
Has been the wrack of many a Cause,  
Where many a Client Verdict missed,  
For want of greasing in the Fist:  
Those that fit there in State are Judges,  
And those below 'em scribbling drudges;  
Those there in Quoifs are titled Sergeants,  
With Clerks that hang upon their Margins;  
Defending right of meum & tuum,  
And when men offer wrong to sue 'em:  
Here Justice does or should prevail,  
And hold to all her equal Scale:  
The oppressed from Lawyer's gripe to free,  
And weigh by Drams their honesty.  
For Law is still to th' Wise revealed,  
Just like the Wax with which 'tis Sealed;  
Not as the Causes right upholds it,  
But as the Lawyer's Conscience moulds it.  
Harder or softer as he pleases,  
According as his Clients greases;  
And though 'tis sometimes fit no doubt on't,  
Yet they're most happy that are out on't.  
For Law and Physic ne'er should be  
Used but upon Extremity.  
Yet amongst all whom this Confusion,  
This sudden wondrous Revolution,  
Has raised and bettered in their State,  
'T has been the Lawyer's chiefest Fate;  
By Fortunes turn as quick as strange,  
To reap most profit by the change:  
They thrive upon the People's Sins,  
Their luck exceeding other men's;  
And what in th' last Reign was uncertain,  
Is now a fixed and solid fortune;  
Those that at pleasure were ut ita,  
Are settled now durante vita:  
High Magistrates which by a Word,  
Or Mandate from the Sovereign Lord,  
Were silenced strait as mute as Posts  
Fear nothing now, but th' Lord of Hosts:  
Released from Arbritray Awe,  
And guarded by the Bulwark Law;  
This station therefore where such trust is  
Aught to be swayed the more by Justice,  
For as no one should be less doer  
Of hurt, than he that has most power:  
So Law to which such power belongs,  
Should be least ready to do wrongs.   

Quoth Collen, that Law should do right  
I think there's no one will deny't  
That's in his Senses, and to show  
That I believe it doth do so,  
I've just thought on a Neighbour's case  
That's very proper for this place,  
Who has by lawless will his Spouse  
Misled, and taken from his house;  
And by a snivelling Whoremaster  
Detained without all Sense or fear;  
If therefore Justice here doth sway,  
As I am apt to think it may,  
Why should not such a cause as this?  
Be sued in Forma pauperis,  
And so by damages, procuring,  
Make Fop pay sound for his whoring.   

Quoth Major, of all suits descended,  
Paupers are still the worst attended,  
Tho Justice always equal be,  
She's best in humour with a Fee▪  
And cannot be if that's neglected  
So diligent as is expected:  
As money makes the Mare to go,  
Even so it makes the Lawyer too,  
Directs his Judgement right or wrong,  
Raises his wit and tips his Tongue,  
And makes him fit to plead the cause,  
And better understand the Laws;  
This makes a Rabbi of Fourscore,  
Ride dangling all the country o'er,  
Who plagued with Palsy, Stone, and Gout,  
Without the use of hand or foot,  
Yet cannot leave the bawling rout,  
But must, as being used to trudge,  
Still go the Circuit with the Judge,  
Which he'd ne'er do, thou mayst rely on't  
To get a Pauper for his Client,  
Or leave alluring golden Fees  
On Conscience score, or Charities;  
He that would Adversary tease,  
And goes to Law without good Fees,  
Is like old Fumble that would wed  
At ninety years, a buxom Maid,  
He may well tyre each Limb and Joint,  
But he shall never gain the point:  
A Maidenhead being to get as nice,  
As without Money good advice.  
And though I can't deny the case  
Is very proper for this place,  
Because that lately by report,  
There was one tried of the same sort,  
And many a Lawyer was pains taker  
'twixt Cuckold and the Cuckold-maker;  
Till the Jury weighing the disgraces,  
And that it might be their own cases,  
Their favour gave with Sense adorned,  
Not to the () Horner, but the horned;  
Atoning by a swinging Sum  
The unpardoned sin of Cuckoldom:  
Tho this be true, as plain it appears,  
Yet neither of them, both ere was Paupers;  
The Devil might have had the Wise,  
If money had not made the strife,  
And brought the Lawyer in good Fees,  
And th'Husband hopes of damages;  
By which we plainly may unfold,  
No Law is currant without Gold.   

Here Major stopped, and Collen would  
Most fain have answered if he could,  
But now being got to th'Stairs that went  
Up to the Court of Parliament,  
Was fain to stifle each Conceit,  
And end the politic debate,  
To mount the steps, and hear relation  
Of all the grand affairs o'th' Nation:  
Here as below the People walk,  
And only differ in their talk;  
Being here of Kings and Armies boasters,  
As of Writs, Suits and Fines below stairs,  
And of as many humours as  
At Babel there were Languages;  
The Men of Politic Intrigue,  
The Grumbler and the sullen Whig;  
Grave Bishops, Barons, Baronet's,  
The Guillians and the jacobites:  
Tho they could one another Eat,  
With Congee one another greet;  
Amongst the Captains the discourse is,  
Of () Schomberg and the Irish forces;  
Each striving plain to make't appear,  
What he would do if he were there;  
And that the General is too slow,  
In giving Battle to the Foe:  
On 't other side were Cits complaining  
Of Taxes, and the House Arraigning;  
Wishing the Members hanged, or drowned,  
That gave three Shillings in the Pound;  
In brief, th' crowd from side to side,  
To th' Major seemed disatisfied;  
Which being not able long to hold,  
He instantly to Collen told;  
Believing it a proof most plain,  
To show the Nations grumbling vein:  
And therefore thus renewed, I here  
Have hopes (my friend) to make appear;  
What I have argued of the Tumour,  
Now swelling in the Nation's humour;  
Who though the Members now are sitting,  
And those too of their own begetting:  
They cannot yet persuade their patience,  
To bear the weight of these taxations;  
Hadst thou just now you fellow heard,  
That Crop-eared () Citt with the Red Beard▪  
How he his spleen did loudly vent,  
Against the King and Government;  
Thou wouldst by that one speech have found,  
The Sense of all the City round:  
For as in Hunting, if one Whelp,  
Finding the scent, begins to yelp;  
The rest o' th' pack will instantly,  
Join altogether in the cry:  
So when one Citizen sets abroach,  
A whim, the rest are bound to vouch,  
Through friendship, else it would imply;  
A breach in their Fraternity:  
One Swallow makes ('tis true) no Summer,  
Yet one Tongue may create a Rumour;  
That in few days may have the power,  
To influence a thousand more.   

Quoth Collen, I should heed as much,  
A Ballad that was Sung in Dutch;  
A Tale of Orson and the Bear,  
An Irish Psalm, or a Welsh Prayer;  
As any point he could unriddle,  
With that odd Phiz, like head of Fiddle;  
Whose vanity and simpering Wives,  
Still against Law and Reason strives;  
Her Pride ferments him to complain,  
Upon the Taxes of this Reign;  
For fear the general distress,  
Should make her Topknot grow the less;  
Or that her Petticoat debase  
Itself, from two, to one Gold Lace:  
For th' Church's safety and her own,  
One of the Tankard's melted down;  
Or that t' assist the War and the King,  
One Stone fall from her Diamond Ring;  
She fears the Expensive times will take,  
A Jill from quart of Buttered Sack;  
Or that Establishing Religion,  
May cause one Teal the less, or Pigeon,  
Within the confines of her Table,  
When she and Gossips meet and Babble:  
These are the griefs to Husband told,  
Who strait as full as he can hold;  
Like overcharged Potgun with ill wind,  
As bad as that comes from behind,  
Rather than lose one Chop on's Mutton,  
Or from New Coat, one Silver Button:  
Shall side with grumbling debate,  
And rail against the Church and State.  
Met at a Club where all agree,  
To this absurd Hypocrisy;  
Here's one ne'er cares who th' Nation's ruling,  
So Daughter be not kept from Schooling;  
Would lose his Freedom like a Puppy,  
Rather than she not learn to Coopee,  
The Dancing and the Singing Graces,  
And like a Philly all her Paces;  
About her Heads Fantastic dress,  
Rather than have one Wire amiss:  
His hoarded Gold would freely spare,  
Tho not one Shilling towards a War;  
That would improve what thus is lavished,  
And perhaps save her being Ravished;  
And though for his Religion's sake,  
The Dunce well knows the War we make;  
Rather than not his whim pursue,  
Would turn a Pagan or a jew:  
Or like the Egyptians old opinion,  
Adore a Calf's Head or an () Onion.  
Another sort will throw at Bowls,  
More than they'll spare to save their Souls;  
And squander what they grudge to be  
Employed to keep out Popery:  
They are with Taxes quite undone,  
But not with Play, or drinking on;  
For as a Compliment that's made,  
Still sounds▪ like sense, to whom 'tis said:  
What's idly lost we ne'er regard;  
But when we pay a Tax, 'tis hard:  
Women, too lately durst upbraid,  
The Senate and the Laws they made;  
But more particulary that,  
Where Lady was to wear a Hat;  
And lay the Ensigns of their pride;  
Their Silken Ornaments aside;  
Which would have been a wholesome Act,  
T' encourage woollen Manufact;  
A sober garb and a worthy praise,  
Much used in good Queen Bess' days:  
Here Collen had gone on inveighing  
Against the Lady's rich Arraying;  
Had not a sudden Clamorous source  
Of Tongues abridged his wise discourse;  
Loud yell of Throats, and din of Clubs,  
Just as when Cooper's hoop their Tubs,  
Possessed the Air, and Timorous Collen,  
Into an Ague fit was falling;  
To see the Major with his valour,  
As pale as he himself or paler;  
The terror of the Noise infused,  
Fresh pangs to part so lately bruised,  
Their Bones began to ache again;  
Both wondering what that stir should mean;  
To make a elanger of that Nature,  
So near the House of Legislature:  
Till action, after some small pause,  
Informed their judgements the true cause.   

The Mob it seems had heard a rumour,  
Not well concurring with their humour;  
Importing that an Act should be,  
To put down Silken Gallantry:  
That Topknots, Garters, Cravat-strings,  
Shoe-ties, and such important things,  
Should be abolished, and instead  
A List of woollen serve, or Thread;  
That Petticoat of Cloth of Gold,  
To Hostess should no more be Sold:  
But be by just Exchange transferred,  
To Stuff of Eighteen pence a Yard;  
And that the Cobblers Daughter should  
Rustle no more in Velvet Hood:  
But wear Chapeau, from Dogskin wove,  
And modelled like a Sugar Loaf;  
This, same no sooner did impart,  
Fame, that is always doing hurt:  
But every sturdy Aproneer,  
Armed with Battoon, did strait appear,  
Swearing no Law should e'er be made,  
So much to th' damage of their Trade;  
And now to th' house began to move,  
Some forty thousand in a drove.  
Ignorant of this, the Senate sat,  
Within as snug as any Cat;  
Making sound Laws for preservation,  
Of the Liege People of the Nation:  
Till noise like that of Baiting Bears;  
Informed their Legislative Ears;  
The crowd were there resolved to carry,  
The cause by Broomstick Arbitrary;  
Who having all by joint consent,  
Taken a Lambs-Wool Sacrament;  
Now Armed with resolution stood,  
Swearing to lose their precious Blood,  
But Silks and Satins should be wore,  
And Ribbons as they were before;  
Where we will leave 'em all to fight,  
The Battle in famed Topknots right;  
And to our Worthies turn our stile,  
Who wisely to avoid the broil,  
Having before their Eyes th' Abuses  
Now rudely offered to both Houses:  
Whose Tumult if they could not stem,  
They knew would nothing make of them;  
To a friends House near that of Commons,  
To whom the Major oft had Summons:  
In haste retired, resolved to stay,  
And valours rouse another way;  
Not as before with manly beating,  
But with a gust of valiant Eating.  
The Britain's never were inclined,  
Of old, to fight before they had dined;  
The Belgians too in Battle shrink,  
When e'er they Charge before they drink;  
For Wine or a good Dinner draws,  
Still as much Courage as a Cause;  
And as when Hero hearing Drum beat  
A point of War, even longs for Combat:  
The sullen sound and Martial din,  
Rousing the Spirits up within  
To fall to action, so in some,  
A piece of Beef, just like a Drum,  
Will animate and raise more mettle,  
Than either Trumpet, Fife, or Kettle.  
Their Host that long had practised Physic,  
A trusty friend to wight that is Sick:  
Tho not by judgement, could by guess,  
The Nature find of a disease;  
Which was as much, he wisely knew,  
As any of 'em all can do;  
With Paracelsus and with Galen,  
He tolled his Ignorant Patients all in:  
Like Quack their terms of Art could smatter,  
And just like flustered R— chatter,  
With scraps of Jests by standers pelt  
In squeaking tone, like one that's guelt,  
Still making solid confidence,  
Supply the meaness of his Sense,  
By Medicine, or Phlebotomy,  
He'd undertake each Malady;  
And if he cured the diseased  
'Twas skill, if not, as Heaven pleased:  
For as those men that trade with Stars,  
And foretell Famines, Plagues, and Wars;  
In doubtful terms their thoughts express,  
To save their Credits if they miss;  
So he though skilful in Closestools,  
Could not avoid those dubious rules,  
But many a Patient's dissolution,  
Had laid upon ill Constitution;  
But if drug chanced to operate well,  
'Twas then the Doctor's mighty skill.  
Their Host received 'em with a bow,  
Whither they welcome were or no,  
Which is one part of entertaining,  
How e'er the rest be true or feigning,  
And though he seemed a little shy  
At first of Collins Company,  
Perhaps, as fearing a Trepan,  
As being a Red Letter man:  
Yet by the Major being told,  
What virtues lay in that course mould,  
A second Congee he affords,  
So low that Collen spoiled the Board's,  
With sudden scrape of hobnailed shoe,  
Returning Courtesies were due.  
Quoth Host, then to his Man, go Roger,  
And tell my Sister here's the Major:  
Who smiled at that, as subtly knowing,  
What sort of Jest was now pursuing,  
Having beforehand softly spoke  
To's Friend to carry on the Joke,  
And banter Collen, therefore who  
This Sister was 'tis fit you knew.   

When Town was purged of Popish Bigotts,  
And search was made for shaved He-Goats,  
The baldpate Fry ran helter skelter,  
To Holes and Corners to find shelter,  
And happy was the Priest could tell,  
How to escape the Constable  
By Flight, or else more safely wise  
Defend himself by acquaint disguise;  
Some clad like Weavers, worked at Looms,  
Others cried Shoes, old Hats or Brooms;  
A stone, or a fine Tinderbox,  
And some in Vestments Orthodox  
In Coffee-house were found to be,  
Inveighing against Popery,  
Here you might see a Friar bilked  
From selling more o'th'Virgins milk,  
His Cowle laid by, and Pride divine.  
Crying, buy Brandy, Brandy Wine;  
Another Sot, whose diabolick  
sham's were confirmed as Apostolic,  
His Tenets now was forced to hush,  
To bawl a Rat-trap or a Brush;  
And all the rest through Panic fear  
Of Statute, sheltering here and there,  
Their likewise changed all o'er the Nation,  
Proved best the right Transubstantiation.  
Amongst the crew that made this pother,  
The Doctor had it seems a Brother,  
Who at Saint Omers had provision,  
To be a pimp to Superstition,  
And soon had learned to hold a door  
To Babel's Priest, and Babel's Whore;  
To tract of which amour diserning,  
Gave him first light to human Learning;  
For as a Pimp to Potentate,  
Makes oft a solid Magistrate:  
So he that best conceals the flaws,  
And Errors in the Romish cause,  
By true Church pimping is most fit  
To make the ablest Jesuit;  
To which degree by fortune blest,  
Our novice was preferred with haste,  
And hither sent with many more,  
Upon the old converting Score,  
But had not (as it seems) been here  
Above a quarter of a Year,  
When sullen fate began to lower,  
And force that lawless crew to scour;  
Or else disguised from place to place  
Remove with danger and disgrace;  
Amongst the rest whom these mishaps,  
Had strictly forced to change their shapes:  
He to prevent ensuing ill  
Was forced to do't against his Will,  
And now in Petticoat and Manto,  
Like buxom Lass, that trips Curanto  
With Wires, () Comodes, and Topknots flaring,  
Proper for modish Ladies wearing;  
A graceful mein, and jolly face,  
Came into the room where Major was,  
Who quickly by her Brother knew her,  
But was to say but little to her.  
When after some discourses kind,  
And they had plentifully dined,  
Sister had secretly her Cue,  
The talk with Collen to renew:  
Which if she did the Votes o'th' day quote,  
Or Joke upon his Beard, or Grey Coat,  
His Stature or his Shape deride,  
Or once but touch on his blind side,  
Might easily effected be,  
Or railing at Presbytery.   

Quoth she, I'm offered a good Wager,  
But yet durst never lay it, Major,  
That you've a Neighbour, that in Arts  
Of arguing, has such topping parts,  
That th' Devil cannot baffle him;  
Of whom ('tis said) he is a Limb.  
Deformed and Stigmatised by Nature,  
And Crooked both in Mind and Stature:  
His Head and Beard as black as Cole-hill,  
A Barrel Paunch, and Back like Molehill;  
And though there's but one Eye in's face,  
Dares think himself a Saint of Grace,  
Who when all others blotches see,  
Finds Beauties in Presbytery.  
'Tis said too that his Folly chimes,  
In Jingling praises of the times;  
Decries and think 'tis done with Wit,  
The reason of a jacobite,  
And Poisoned with Fanatic Zeal,  
Spreads Venom through the public Weal.  
This Monster, if there such can be,  
I'd Ride a hundred Miles to see,  
To Murder him in sharp Debate,  
As being of a Sect I hate.   

Scarce Collen had this Language heard,  
But Crimson blush o'er face appeared,  
And through his bushy Beard, the blood  
Shone like Aurora through a Cloud;  
Gazing some time with eye like fire,  
Upon his Foe, and her attire,  
While Major in the Interim told her,  
Him she abused she might behold here:  
Imprisoned Rage at last took vent,  
And thus in Words its Rancour spent.   

Quoth he, in all my life till now,  
I think I never had to do,  
With any of these Female Cattle,  
These things composed of noise and prattle,  
Given to torment us, when the Devil  
Had strongest power of doing Evil.  
Seven Fiends the Scripture does attest,  
One devilish Woman once possessed;  
And if from every Rampant Dame,  
There daily were cast out the same,  
You'd find in Person, or in Will,  
One Devil or other lurking still.  
And though y'have styled me here his Limb,  
I'll prove I know no more of him,  
Than only that I dare defy  
Himself, and your Carnality.  
Your Tongue too, that divisions ran  
Upon my Shape and outward man,  
With men of Sense will have regard  
As little, as you'd have my Beard,  
Which can be proved the chiefest Grace,  
Nature e'er gave t'adorn a face;  
The Spaniard in most Grave Affairs  
His Oath makes, by these honoured hairs,  
And holds it for a Damning Sin  
To break't, be Whiskers ne'er so thin.  
And that great Author Mandevile,  
Whom every one may read that will,  
Reports that the () Bononians are,  
Both Sexes, covered with long hair;  
That th'bald are looked upon as Beasts;  
And Virgins Beards hang to their Breasts,  
Which they with Ribbons deck, as you  
That Steeple gear upon your Brow;  
Which, to my Judgement, makes you seem  
Just like a Fore-horse of a Team.  
Hair did the Face and Chin adorn,  
Long ere such Fopperies were worn,  
And still shall be esteemed by me  
As th'Type of Sense and Gravity;  
When that lewd Ensign there of yours,  
Shall be the badge of Bawds and Whores.   

Quoth she, because I would not whip,  
With Argument, your Pigmyship  
Too soon, I've given you leave to fret,  
ere I attacked you in Debate.  
But now your Thesis will convince,  
And prove your major is not sense.  
If Providence did Beards devise,  
To prove the wearers of them wise,  
A fulsome () Goat would then by Nature  
Excel each other human Creature:  
The Reverend Clergy ne'er would shave 'em;  
Our Wives and Daughters too would have 'em,  
If Heaven those Tufts of Hair had sent,  
As if designed for Ornament,  
Complexion still doth plainly show  
Cause, why Beards do, or do not grow▪  
The hot, the moist, and virile Nature,  
Being most the causer of that matter,  
And was a modest covering given,  
More than for Ornament, by Heaven;  
For had they been for graceful show,  
Our Sex no doubt had had them too.   

Quoth Collen, whether that be so,  
That Womankind have Beards or no,  
Is dubious, and admits a question,  
Which now you seem to make a Jest on▪  
Some Authors own they may be hairy,  
In spite of Arguments contrary▪  
And prove by Books, and learned Discourse,  
Some sort of Ladies have had Whiskers.  
Tho the position wonder draws,  
And those too by a Natural Cause,  
The () Queen of Sheba, as 'tis said,  
Had a small Beard of sandy red,  
Which, when to stint her Nations quarrels,  
She Solomon had pumped of▪ s Morals,  
Grew and enlarged upon her Phiz,  
Each day, till 'twas as long as his.  
And of Examples too, I've some,  
That I can trace much nearer home:  
My Mother and my Sister both,  
Possessing Beards of handsome growth,  
Which made some ignorant () Caprices,  
Believe and seize on 'em for Witches;  
Nor them, nor my old Father spare,  
Whom they believed a Conjurer.  
When really from Beards arise  
No ill, but signs of being wise;  
And therefore those of female mould,  
Seldom have any till they are old:  
As for the Politics I teach,  
I fancy them, beyond your reach;  
And your capacity would win  
More fame by showing you can spin,  
Than pertly aiming at debate,  
And meddling with affairs of State.  
The famous () Sallique Law of France,  
Their lasting glory to advance,  
As I have heard my Father say,  
No woman would permit to sway,  
Their occult gifts being thought most fitting  
For dresses, or to mind their knitting;  
And therefore from all public matters,  
Still kept their Sisters, Wives, or Daughters:  
And if in little England here,  
The wise and wholesome custom were  
To gag 'em in their prating vein,  
On the transfactions of this Reign;  
Or send 'em out from London all,  
As once did Politic old () Noll:  
You'd find less store of villainies,  
Less Cuckolds too, and fewer lies.   

Quoth she, thou dost by this describe  
The sordid nature of thy Tribe,  
The sneaking Presbyter exceeding  
All other Sects in want of breeding;  
And therefore by his mean deserts,  
Wouldst rate and model others parts:  
And though our Sex thou wouldst run down,  
Yet shalt thou find amongst them one,  
Shall with your ablest Rabbi vie,  
In Logic or Philosophy:  
The Art of Arguing show, and teach  
To discuss truth () from lies, in Speech:  
The Nature of a question prove,  
Simple or Compound that you move,  
And by the () Predicables show,  
Whither 'tis stated right or no.  
Genus & species in sententia,  
With Proprium & differentia,  
Shall troth and amble in discourse,  
As easy as I make my Horse.  
Or if on Natural Tracts you dare  
Pretend to talk, I'll pose you there;  
I'll show through long laborious Studies,  
The Natures of all sorts of Bodies;  
Of Fire, of Water, Earth or Air,  
The Causes or Effects declare;  
What 'tis makes stinking Fish to shine,  
As if it had some light Divine:  
Or why a piece of rotten Post,  
Shall to his Lodging light mine Host:  
The Nature of the Moon decreasing  
Declare; and what's the cause of sneezing,  
Of Coughs, and () Hiccoughs, the intents;  
And why my Buxom Lady squints.  
Nay more; what has this many years  
Puzzled our best Philosophers.  
I'll tell why Dogs turn three times round,  
About the place, where they lie down;  
Which Mysteries, when the Wits of Gresham  
Shall hear how plainly I'll express them,  
They'll own, in spite of public Rumours,  
They're not all Blockheads at St. Omers.   

No sooner Collen heard that word,  
But striking fist upon the Board,  
Quoth he, I'll hold a pound to nothing,  
We have got a Wolf here in Sheep's clothing.  
By this Philosophy and Logic,  
Which is the same to me as Magic,  
With that last word joined all together,  
I find your La— ship a false Brother;  
And should your Arguments repel  
By Reason, with a Constable,  
He would the best confuter be,  
Of all rank Roman Sophistry,  
By letting your high parts be known,  
To Justice and the Learned Town.  
As men that travelling learn the Arts,  
By Murder oft improve their parts;  
He that for Argument is hanged,  
Best proves how well he has harranged.  
The Jesuit looked pale at that,  
As knowing he had slipped a fault,  
But was resolved with a feigned laugh,  
And impudence, to put it off,  
When Collen thus went on: The Nation,  
I think, has many a Proclamation,  
Which does from Statute-Law proceed,  
By which your Tribe were all forbid  
As Traitors; yet as if you long for't,  
You must come over though you hang for't:  
You must be crying up Dunce Peter's,  
Tho you howl after for't in Fetters;  
Extol your Gods, the Fathers too,  
Whom (if I said were mad) 'tis true.  
The very Founder () of ye all,  
Scarce having Lucid Interval,  
Who in the Rapture of his Fits,  
Made all the Rules for Jesuits:  
Who has deserved more than your Popes,  
The stroke of Axe, or twitch of Ropes:  
By Rapine, and by Avarice, some  
Have made a Den of Thiefs of Rome:  
Some by cursed Poison have been struck dumb,  
That tother's Bribes might get the Popedom.  
Nay, one () whose tale I thought untrue,  
Till now I chance to meet with you:  
Tho to the Stews she was a Daughter,  
Was chosen in Rome for Sanctae Pater,  
And by lewd Offspring made us see  
Her staunch Infallibility.   

Quoth Priest, thou art the foul mouthst fellow  
That ever at Guildhall did bellow,  
When your damned party would control,  
A just election by a Poll.  
And what or whosoe'er I am,  
I'll prove it to your parties shame;  
No private Sect deserves the Gallows,  
So much as your Fanatic Fellows:  
Tho Brethren of the Romish See,  
Do venture here for Charity:  
'Tis for some special act of Glory,  
As to relieve from Purgatory,  
Some Soul tormented, or to free,  
By Penance some young sinful she;  
Who taking hold of apt occasion,  
Through Love made forfeit of Salvation;  
And not through any ill Intent,  
T'affront or curb the Government.  
If Statutes-Laws against us be,  
They're so too against Presbytery;  
And who ought most t'obey the Senate;  
Those out o'th' Land, or those live in it?  
King 
* james the First.  james pronounced no Fine or Death,  
Sharper than Queen Elizabeth:  
'Twas for the Monarchy we Fell,  
Not sneaking for a Commonweal.  
We never set a King on's Throne,  
And strait conspired to pull him down,  
Because against our wise Consent,  
He does dissolve a Parliament:  
And for the sake of a Round Tax,  
Will not be made a Nose of Wax;  
Or that his Church Decree repels,  
All the Republic Principles;  
And takes no Regal Dignities,  
To be removed just when you please;  
None of these Crimes our Tribe dare do,  
Tho acted frequently by you,  
Who ever were, and still will be,  
The Moles to root out Monarchy:  
That Sceptres may be swayed by Laymen;  
Blind Cobblers and hard fisted Draymen:  
'Tis not true Zeal by which you dare,  
Cry down the Book of Common Prayer;  
Or call Church Ceremonies Foppish;  
Absurd, Ridiculous and Popish,  
But sullen Pride to have the Glory,  
To set up your own Directory,  
And plainly snow your strictest Zeal,  
Is nothing but a stubborn Will;  
For which you thrash your Pulpit Drum,  
For which you daily Buz and Hum;  
And snuffling to the Tribe disclose,  
Dull Exhortations through the Nose;  
Whose matter as soon make a Saint,  
As the Tub does in which you Cant;  
And though Rome's Faith thou dar'st Assail,  
And rudely against the Father's Rail.  
Was not the Victory known certain,  
Gained by () St. Austin o'er St. Martin,  
Who strove by sly Sophistick Wit,  
To contradict what t'other Writ,  
Who stricter Piety can allege,  
Than th' Jesuits in their sober College,  
Of Bloody Combats again Satan,  
What Sect could e'er most justly prate on?  
Is't not recorded of () Ignatius,  
That'the Devil once tore his Mustachio's?  
At which enraged in pious Frolic,  
To Cuffs they went, By't, Box and B—  
Where the infernal Demagog,  
Was kicked and beaten like a Dog.  
And was he not without dry Blows,  
Another time lugged by the Nose,  
When he his devilish Rules durst urge,  
And rail against the Mother Church?  
Which if thou ever canst make known,  
By any of thy Brethren done;  
Or that starched F—son or L— b  
Have ever cudgelled Belzebub,  
My own Opinion i'll defy,  
And settle to Presbytery.   

Quoth Collen, that we ever made  
The Devil shrink by breaking's Head,  
Would to the Wise as senseless be,  
As your Assertions seem to me.  
But that the Serpent's Head we may  
Have crushed in a Spiritual Way,  
And so have given him the rout,  
I think I plainly can make out;  
Nor have I against your Church inveighed,  
Till I its Fopperies had weighed.  
Your Worshipping of Stocks and Stones,  
And bringing Life back with Saints Bones.  
Your Relics of St. Ieromes Teeth,  
To cure the Pox and Fevers with;  
And chaste St. Katherine's Huckle Bone,  
A certain Remedy for the Stone:  
That the Lapet's of St. Bernard's Shoes,  
Gave present ease to Childing Throws;  
And that his Hose could Wives redress,  
From their Defect of Barrenness;  
With several Fopperies and Tales,  
From () Causin, Cressey and some else,  
Amongst which particularly one,  
I now think proper to be shown.   

Late in the () the Kingdom of Navarre,  
Lived a Young Hermit called St. Clare,  
Who amongst numbers whose fond Hearts  
Were charmed by his endearing Parts.  
The Wife of a Rich Grandee stove,  
To tempt to her unlawful Love:  
But finding he still answered no,  
And to her Grief her Cake was Doughty;  
A cruel Act performed scarce read of,  
Hiring two Braves to chop his Head off:  
Which done, the Body upright stands,  
Taking the Head between his Hands,  
And walks two Miles with't to his Cell:  
But what is yet more strange to tell;  
The Head did to St. Austin pray,  
And Sung Te Deum all the way.  
This, though it many may deceive,  
For my part I can scarce believe;  
Yet if you'll bring me to a Priest,  
Who being hanged will break a Jest:  
Or when he has endured the Shame,  
Prays to a Saint, or Sings a Psalm;  
Despising Sheriffs, and their Ropes,  
I'll be your Vassal, and your Popes;  
Attest no more our brethren's Right,  
But turn your faithful Proselyte;  
But if I see you once turned over,  
Grow black in th' Face and not recover;  
Or find ye lolling out your Tongues,  
Not able to redress your Wrongs;  
I then shall think your Saints and relics,  
Your Fathers and your other Frolics;  
Their Fights with Satan too, a Dream,  
And that the Devil has cudgelled them.   

Quoth Jesuit enraged, thy Thoughts  
In thy foul Scroll of Life are blots,  
Which in such quantities are made,  
That no one can the Paper read;  
The word Fanatic rightly taught,  
Is one that runs stark Mad for naught;  
Possessed with Daemon, called his Will,  
Which when he cants, steams out in Zeal;  
Which tough Battoon. But the Major here,  
Observing signs of Rage appear,  
Both in the Priest and sturdy Collen,  
Who was from Sheath, Toledo pulling;  
Prayed th' Host to take away his Sister,  
Who strait at his request dismissed▪ her;  
Whilst Collen who had now no power,  
o'er glowing Wrath, rushed out of door,  
Swearing the World should know th' Abuse,  
The Commons had so near their House,  
Where Priest in Petticoats and Mantoes,  
Subjects for Poets to make Cantos,  
Were skulking; with which wrathful thought,  
Home to his Inn at last he got,  
Where how his Guide and he agreed,  
In the next Canto you may read.   
The End of the Third Canto.   

WEDNSDAYS Walk.  
The Argument of the Third Canto.  

Money, does Collins Rage allay,  
Who now is carried to a Play;  
But hindering th' Actors, finds too soon  
Himself, in danger of Battoon;  
Till Punk o'th' Town takes him away,  
To th' Tavern, where denying to pay,  
She wheedles him with Art profound,  
And picks his Purse of twenty Pound.   
CANTO IU.  

Money, the Nerve of Peace and War,  
That's both our Comfort and our Care:  
The want of which is Man's undoing,  
As well as▪ its Excess his ruin.  
Whose real Worth we ne'er esteem,  
Through moderation, but extreme:  
How shall I treat thee, in terms Civil,  
That art so exquisite a Devil?  
By thee old Widows are put off,  
Half rotten with Catrarh and Cough:  
By thee Fools marry and get Maids,  
With Wealth, and richer Maidenheads:  
And by thee, good or ill Report  
Is gained, with places too at Court;  
Friends got, and Foes being made agree,  
By thy Infallibility,  
This influence that all Hearts can melt,  
Amongst the rest our Collen felt;  
Who just that Morning being paid  
By th' Innkeeper in way of Trade,  
The twenty Pounds for Hay and Grain,  
That long upon Account had lain;  
Th' alluring Gold had so assuaged  
His Malice and controlled his Rage,  
That Rancour now was wholly spent,  
And quite forgot his late intent:  
Besides, he knew the Priests ill treating,  
Might hedge himself another beating:  
Therefore thought wisely to forbear,  
Led it to by a prudent Fear;  
At which the Major being well pleased,  
Himself thus utters— the diseased;  
In mind, my Friend's a worse Degree,  
Than is the Body's Malady:  
I infer this as firmly thinking,  
Unless the Jesuit had been drinking;  
As 'tis their customary Trade,  
That our late Disputant was mad;  
Which may to th' Wise in reason pass so,  
Because thou know'st their Founder was so;  
And ever since their frantic Rules,  
Have proved 'em Lunatics or Fools,  
Instructing Kings and troubling Reigns,  
To feed the Worms in their own Brains;  
Besides, his way of arguing,  
I look on as a nauseous thing;  
Where Reason only should prevail,  
His chiefest Topic was to rail,  
Thy Stature, or thy Shape deride,  
Or simply rally thy blind side;  
And what is least to be averred,  
Deny the grandeur of thy Beard;  
In which his folly I had shown,  
In the defence of one more known;  
But that I would not take from thee,  
The Glory of the Victory.  
The Beard's the honour of the Head,  
As thou before haste rightly said;  
And has in War been thought ere now,  
Substantial Pawn for Money too.  
De Castro () when he had relieved,  
A Famous Town by Indians grieved;  
His Treasure spent, and knowing th' Hopes  
Of War was vain, not paying his Troops,  
Dispatched to Goa's Magistrates,  
His Beard between two Golden Plates,  
Entreating the Grandees to grant,  
A hundred thousand pounds upon't;  
Which they contented with the pawn,  
Strait sent, nor further Note was drawn;  
And what could greater Token be,  
Than that of Barbal Dignity?  
Besides his positive denying  
Of truths, declares their knack of lying;  
Which I am very glad I heard,  
Because it has my sense prepared  
Their other Fallacies to guests,  
Which Thought will make me grumble less.  
The Church of England does appear,  
By this more beautiful than ere;  
Which now my Heart shall take as guide,  
Nor longer with their party side;  
And though I did the Times condemn,  
As we all do that herd with them;  
Reason at last shall take her Station,  
And humbly preach up Moderation.   

The subtle Collen smiled at this,  
As thinking to himself, there is  
Just as much reason for this humbling,  
As there was lately for your grumbling;  
But fearing that a blunt aspersion,  
Might balk the Major in's Conversion,  
To humour him in's Tale agreed,  
And let him in Discourse proceed.   

Thou hast, quoth he, obliged thyself,  
So much against this Popish Elf,  
That I, although I had a Hand in  
The Trick, to pose thy Understanding,  
Seeing thou didst thyself deliver  
So well, shall prise thee more than ever;  
And therefore now resolve to treat thee,  
With some diversion that may get thee  
To think, they are not here all Beasts,  
Rude Carmen, Squib-makers and Priests;  
But that acquaintance may be had,  
With Gentry that are better bred,  
Collen who was not such a Sot,  
To refuse pleasure cost him nought,  
With Thanks to th' Major gave consent,  
Not knowing yet what Sport he meant,  
Which th' better to inform ye here,  
I think is proper to declare.   

Upon the Bank of Thame and Isis,  
That feeds the Wen of City Vices,  
By bearing Wealth upon their Shoulders,  
To Fools, fanatics and Freeholders':  
A lofty pile their stands, whose use is,  
To nourish and regale the Muses;  
Not with Course Fare of Greasy Bits,  
But with rare Treats of Costly Wits;  
Jelly of Tropes, and Rich Potages  
Of Rants, and High Poetic Rages;  
Brisk Metaphors they also choose,  
And simile to make Raggous,  
Garnished with Leaves of Antique Books,  
And all the Poets are their Cooks.  
Here Empress Tragedy still treads,  
And the grand Dance in Buskins leads;  
And Farce in Vizard Mask is seen,  
In Mimic Garb like Harlequin;  
Decked with a Nosegay of fresh Buds,  
Of Prologues, Songs and Interludes.  
Here each Man's Genius holds a Mirror,  
Where he may see and fly from Error,  
Where every Vice uncovered is,  
And every Fop may see his Phiz.  
The Beau that rambles from the Boxes,  
To the middle Gallery where the Pox is;  
The Cully too that makes a show,  
With Punk in the side Box below,  
From whence his Heart e'er she can ask it,  
Leaps into th' Orange Wenches Basket;  
There Pants, and Praises the dam'd Features  
Of that most Impudent of Creatures;  
As () Summer buzzing▪ flesh-fly sprung▪  
From filthy Clod of Naufeous Dung,  
Influenced by Heat with guilded Wings,  
Sawsilly Dines and Sups with Kings;  
So that deboached abandoned Creature,  
Got from the Dregs of Human Nature;  
When th' Man most wanted a Physician,  
And Woman was in worst Condition,  
By public pimping and procuring▪  
By private Cheats and open Whoring,  
Aiming at Wit and modish Jokes,  
Familiar grows with Lords and Dukes;  
Vices like these are here disgraced,  
And with Satiric stroke defaced▪  
Th' Old Widow too that every Day,  
Brings her brisk Daughter to the Play,  
That those who do her Youth behold,  
May think the Mother not too old,  
Is very often put to th' blush,  
Tho yet she ears not for't a Rush;  
At least she is with Paint so Red,  
That it looks just as if she did,  
The secret Virtue of the Fucus  
On Face as ancient as () Bonducas;  
Fixing a Colour there that would,  
Supply the want of modest Blood:  
Blushing and Painting now are grown  
An equal Imperfection;  
Tho in past Times in bushful Face,  
A Blush was thought a sign of Grace;  
As t'other in the Common Sense,  
Was held a Type of Impudence:  
In brief a mixture of all sorts,  
Sat daily here to view the Sports,  
And oft by satire bluntly used,  
Generously pay to be abused,  
Which does as much their Errors purge,  
As a Lent Sermon would at Church:  
Within a Covert called the Scenes,  
Are bred a Fry of Kings and Queens;  
Young Heroes learn to Huff and Strut,  
Defy the Gods and Armies Rout;  
And others study and grow thin,  
To make a Crew of Coxcombs grin;  
Here ragged Wight that once did use,  
As bad a Station as the Mews,  
By some Nice piece of Poet's Wit,  
Succeeding does Preferment get  
Of Food and clothes, which yet can't hide,  
His Leprosy of senseless Pride;  
But swearing to play th' Fool no more,  
Still plays a greater, and gives o'er:  
Here simpering Philly too ne'er backed,  
To earn her Bread begins to act;  
Who when the Town to found her rise,  
Have Clapped her sound once or twice,  
Is snatched away by keeping Asses,  
As soon as she has learned her Paces;  
But stuyding Parts (with Industry)  
Of Natural Philosophy,  
Improves, and after the first Night,  
Grows famed, and takes up with A—  
Then wisely hiding her disgrace,  
The famed poetic Art does praise;  
And though she knows 'tis like the Chaos  
Extols the method of the Playhouse.   

To this rare place where Wit is taught,  
The Major now had Collen brought;  
The House was Peopled with all sorts,  
The City's product and the Courts,  
An Ancient Comic Piece they knew,  
Entitled the Fair of Bartholomew,  
Collen first thought as he came in,  
It had a Conventicle been,  
And that mistaking of the day,  
The Major brought him there to pray;  
He saw each Box with Beauty crowned,  
And Pictures deck the Structure round;  
Ben, Shakespeare, and the learned Rout,  
With Noses some, and some without.  
Loud Music sounding through his Ears,  
That were more sanctified than▪ theirs,  
Made him a great while doubting stand,  
Till seeing Brother Zeal o'th' Land,  
Give to his Canting Sister Greeting,  
Confirmed him this must be a Meeting;  
With Eyes turned up and shake of Head,  
He now repeated all was said;  
Admired the Habit of the Prig,  
And winked at stealing of the Pig,  
As wisely knowing all those Slips,  
Natural to their Apocalypses;  
And that the Brethren may Steal,  
As well as Lie, to show their Zeal;  
He had not long been in this Rapture,  
Which pleased him more than any Chapter;  
But by the Nature of the Play,  
His Mood was turned another way;  
For finding that a little after,  
Merely to urge the People's Laughter,  
The Rabbi with loud Shouts and Mocks,  
Was for 'Slight reason set i'th' Stocks;  
In Breast a sudden Anger glowed,  
And instantly revenge he vowed,  
As thinking this a base affront,  
To the whole Tribe of those that Cant;  
This Maggot working in his Pate,  
He starts from off the Bench he sat;  
And getting near half choked with Rage,  
Thus spoke to those upon the Stage.   

What Carnal Motion of the Beast?  
What Daemon Sirs has you possessest?  
Or what cursed Law is there that Grants,  
This Licence to affront the Saints,  
That labour in their strict Vocation,  
And sweat to teach Regeneration?  
Is now th' eleventh Trial come,  
In Persecution taught at Rome;  
That thus you dare disturb their Zeals,  
And tie unerring Truth by th' Heels?  
If so, we have no more to do,  
Both He and I will suffer too;  
If not, it never shall be said,  
An Elder to the Stocks was led,  
For all the Rabble to deride,  
Whilst I wear Bilbo by my side.   

The Actors when he first begun,  
By th' Noise were stopped from going on;  
Nor was the Audience less amazed,  
Who all on Collins outside gazed;  
Who now possess't with zealous Rage,  
Was getting up upon the Stage,  
With Sword in Hand resolved on War,  
With those who stocked the Presbyter,  
For sake of Brotherhood to ease him,  
And from his Wooden Shame release him;  
When Blue Coat Bully that stood by,  
And heard his Chattering Lunacy,  
Wondering to see a Country Lout,  
In Cassock Vile to make that Rout,  
His Noddle reaching with Battoon,  
Gave him a thump that brought him down▪  
And now the Hubbub was so great,  
That each one rose from off his Seat;  
All Laughing at his Garb and Look,  
Whom now they for a Madman took;  
Till Collen who resolved to show,  
He was a Wiser Man than so;  
Nor Beggar as they might suppose,  
By the Humility of's Clothes;  
Oth' sudden stopping the Discourse,  
Out of his Pocket pulled his Purse,  
With twenty pieces in't of Gold,  
His proper Right to have and hold▪  
Yet this ceased not the loud uproar,  
But rather made the Laughter more;  
And though the Major fretting tried,  
To take him off to t'other side▪  
And to inform him did his best,  
That what he saw was but a Jest;  
Yet he with late ill usage heated,  
Would forward, and had been worse treated  
Had not a Female Wastcoateer,  
Came up, and whispering in his Ear,  
The ill matched Combatant drawn off,  
Leaving the Crowd to shout and laugh:  
Major well noting this when don,  
Was very glad to have him gone,  
As knowing soon the time would come,  
When he should meet with him at home;  
Whom now we'll follow with his Lass;  
But first discover who she was.   

Mongst all the Bevys of the Fair,  
That born for human comfort are;  
She of a Tribe was, that expressed  
Their Nature's gentler than the rest;  
And in a kinder Sphere did move,  
By inclination led to Love;  
For her no Heart yet ever broke,  
That bating Sighs, could but have spoke;  
Or when it was with Passion haunted,  
Had skill to tell her what it wanted;  
As Phoebus to the Plants below,  
By whose indulgent warmth they grow,  
No single influence le's fall,  
But spreads his Beams in general;  
So to each Supplicant that begs,  
She kindly would her Arms or L—gs;  
And like the Sun was understood,  
To all Mankind a common Good;  
Her friendly willingness to please,  
Oft punished her with sore disease;  
The Fire that in her Heart did glow,  
Kindling a greater Flame below;  
That sometimes by emulsive drenching,  
Has been above a twelvemonth quenching;  
Whilst Beauty fit to charm the Gods,  
Was studded like a Watch with Nodes;  
Proving her Zeal to love the greater,  
By tasting with its Sweets the Bitter;  
The Pangs of Love are often thought,  
As sharp possessing, as when not;  
His being as great that has enjoyed,  
As when he for enjoyment cried;  
Which Plague is still from Females found,  
That are uncourteous or unfound,  
But to proceed—— for Charity,  
None noted was more famed than she;  
By Natural Generosity,  
She was of precious self so free,  
That meriting ten Guineas down,  
She'd deign to smile on half a Crown:  
Nay oft descend to poor Parole,  
To show the Bounty of her Soul;  
So temperate too, that all her Meat,  
Was generally what poor Folks eat.  
No difference did, or none would know,  
'twixt Heel of Lark and Heel of Cow;  
Could Dine on Venison in the Kell,  
Or Bread and Cheese would serve as well;  
And Sprats loved to as nice degree,  
As any Turbet in the Sea;  
And as her Food was humble, so  
Loud Fame declares her Drink was too:  
She, costly Claret ne'er admired,  
Nor ere to costlier Sack aspired;  
The jolly Nut-brown, and the Quartern,  
When Visitants came in served her turn;  
And oft when Strangers were not there,  
A Glass of Penitential Beer:  
Strangers I mean, of her own kind,  
Else when she with a Cully dined,  
That scruple she could soon undo,  
And briskly tope Pint-Bumpers too:  
At last, like pretty Birds o'th' Air,  
With Mate she'd to her Nest repair;  
Which was to imitate 'em nigh,  
In Garret placed five Stories high;  
As she was famed for outward Parts,  
Her inward were no less for Arts;  
And though she had not the Renown,  
Of Whited or Peter Herigone,  
Had made an entrance into the Staticks,  
And several parts o'th' Methematicks;  
All Questions properly could state,  
Touching the quality of Weight;  
And tell exactly ere she'd leave ye,  
Whither your Purse were light or heavy;  
By Geometry could likewise know,  
The breadth and depth of Pockets too;  
Their Solids and their Superficies,  
As easily as tell what this is:  
And by quick Art of Hand and Brain,  
Where something was, make nought remain;  
In nimbly Plumbing the Convex,  
Could outdo any of her Sex.  
The worth of which rare Art to raise,  
Made her haunt Crowds at Church and Plays:  
And now did her Attendance draw,  
To th' Playhouse, where she Collen saw,  
His Reputation more to settle,  
Gingling a Purse of precious Mettle:  
Not eager Lover, whose Eyeballs,  
Greedily on his Mistress falls,  
Could half so strongly fix as hers,  
To th'inward Merits of that Purse,  
Which in her Eye made Collen show,  
As charming as a side Box Beau;  
And caused her to prevent the Storm,  
To draw him from off further harm;  
Collen, who took her for a Sister,  
With Love and Thanks returned, carress'd her;  
Believing her a Saint of Grace,  
For modest wearing Masque on Face;  
But reckoned those within the Boxes,  
All Ranters, Harridans and Doxies.  
They now were to a place arrived,  
For Mirth and Ease of Cares contrived,  
Where Courtiers that till Midnight tarry,  
Talk Politics o'er Sack and Sherry;  
And Alderman to lewdness fallen,  
Begins with Gill and ends with Gallon;  
Where now both standing at the Door,  
Collen entreats his Sister Wh  
To let her Modesty incline,  
T'accept of half a Pint of Wine;  
Dear Friend, cried she, with all my Heart,  
Let it be, if you please, a Quart,  
To which he courteously cried no,  
I hope I'm better bred than so,  
To think a Lady like a Germane,  
Can tope, or like an English Carman;  
This said they down together sat,  
When up the Knipperkin was brought;  
Whose slender quality when she,  
Sometime had Oagled spitefully;  
And found th● Effects too little to make,  
A just Provision for her Stomach,  
To right the wrongs of that and Belly,  
She thus does frugal Collen rally.   

Quoth she, this were a wretched Nation,  
But for this kind of Consolation;  
Where oft afflicted Nature uses,  
To take amends for Life's abuses;  
And ease the Soul from toilsome thinking,  
By a good Fellowship and Drinking;  
And though our Sex have always been  
Barred of that Custom Masculine,  
When we in public treat a Guest,  
Or simpering sit at any Feast;  
Yet when a Knot of us appoint,  
A Match amongst ourselves, a Pint  
Or more, in a Beer Glass is then,  
No more with us than with you Men,  
Tho amongst Strangers 'tis our way,  
To Riot with a Dish of Tea.  
Like Lady— at a Treat,  
That cares not two▪ pence for the Meat;  
Tho she to th' ruin of the Feast,  
Eats three times more than all the rest,  
Unless aside you do her draw,  
To take a Rouse in Usquebagh,  
Or with some brimming Glass of Sherry,  
Nutmeged and Sugard make her merry;  
And many more whose quality,  
Forbids their toping openly,  
Will privately on good occasion,  
Take six go-downs on Reputation,  
With satisfaction then, and ease,  
Correcting Breath with Lozanges;  
Take leave and never staggering for't,  
Call for the Coach and drive to Court;  
And I myself that thus have said it,  
Although I would not lose my Credit,  
By letting the Town know I quaffed  
A Quart of Claret at a Draught;  
Yet here with such a Friend as you,  
A Brother and in private too,  
Myself a Foe must needs profess,  
To all such Knipperkins as this;  
With that her Hand on Pot she laid,  
And threw it over Collins Head,  
With such a rage and vigour, that  
It flew so near, it brushed his Hat,  
Who finding by this Action,  
The Mettle of's Companion;  
When he had stared on her a while,  
Thus answers in his former stile,   

I must confess, quoth he, that yet,  
I ne'er in all my Travails met,  
With any of the Sisterhood,  
That like you Toping understood,  
Which may perhaps not be a Crime,  
But the mere nature of this Clime;  
Your Constitution being here,  
Inur'd to Wine, as we to Beer;  
Else I should hold a Sister naught,  
Profanely swallowed such a draught;  
At Heidelberg the strictest Zealots,  
Amongst the Independent Prelates,  
'Tis said with large two Gallon Bowls,  
Nightly refreshed their thirstly Souls;  
The Grandees () too of the Cabal,  
Which once were called Synodical;  
When they a knotty point of State,  
Or th' Church's Interest would debate,  
Made strong Potations Drench the Cause,  
And legal Brimmers vouch the Laws;  
And in some Grotto of their own,  
With Cushions knock each other down;  
But of your Sex I never knew,  
Till now such offers as by▪ you:  
Yet that it never shall be said,  
That I for Trifles Fraction made,  
Or stopped the Cause from going on,  
Through my self-willed opinion;  
I am contented to sit by,  
Whilst you your Humour satisfy;  
And to a Pint more or a Quart,  
Will pay my Club with all my Heart.   

Quoth she, that Ladies ne'er must Club,  
Has been a Custom old as job,  
Which your own Sex at first brought in,  
To show your right of governing;  
Since when by Courtesy o'th' Nation,  
To treat our Sex has been a Fashion,  
Allowed as fit, as to afford,  
The Wall or upper end o'th' Board;  
And 'tis this Courtesy, whose Rules  
Supplies the gross defects of Schools;  
Difference 'twixt Gentry makes and Trades,  
And Widows to take place of Maids,  
Makes Barons of the Sons of Peers,  
And tenders Homage to rich Heirs;  
And what's most pertinent of all,  
Gives to our tender Sex the Wall,  
And with a generous freedom treat,  
When ere we please to Drink or Eat;  
Whilst those that have refusals made,  
Are counted as clownish and ill bred.   

Quoth he, to be accounted clownish,  
Would not methinks so sharply punish,  
As that luxurious treating Folly,  
Does by ensuing Melancholy:  
The Purse the Elders of our Tribe,  
Their Marrow of their Cause describe,  
Which can't be like the precious Brain,  
Touched, must less lavished without Pain;  
And I methinks find a small pang,  
At your beginning this Harangue,  
The Brethren armed with Truth sincere,  
Can Strokes and Vile Reproaches bear,  
Most patiently support Abuses,  
And let their Credit suffer Bruises;  
Neglect Affronts through Wisdom sage,  
But if you touch their Purse, they rage;  
Then Righteous Passion strait controls,  
And shows the fervour of their Souls,  
By Interest exposing plain,  
Our greatest Zeal is greatest Gain,  
Besides, in Drinking or in Eating,  
That senseless custom used of Treating,  
Was never, that I know, thought good,  
Bianca▪ any of the Brotherhood;  
Who when we meet about a Bargain,  
And friendly Cheat each other for Gain,  
Equally use to join our Pence,  
To pay the Charge of Knipperkins,  
Which adds to their Community,  
And makes 'em frugally agree;  
Nor can I tell a reason why,  
This should not be 'twixt You and I;  
That paying of the Reckoning equal,  
Should be, or clownish or illegal;  
When doing it a Cause may be,  
Stronger to knit our amity,  
And makes that Love that's in my Breast,  
For kindnesses late passed Increased,  
Which would each hour grow more large,  
The less that I am put to charge.   

Thought Strumpt, since the Wind sits there,  
I'll take the right Sow by the Ear;  
With Tricks and Female slights, your Curship,  
Will manage like a Man of Worship;  
Show th'snare from which Fools ne'er can get out  
When e'er a Woman sets her Wit too't;  
Then seizing upon Collins Fist,  
She thus begun, Thou certain best  
Of all the Pious Flock that e'er,  
Sweat with Presbytery sincere;  
Forgive me that for th' Causes sake,  
This Trial of thy Worth I make;  
And like a Gem too rich for the Buyer,  
Have proved thy merit as by Fire;  
For though I've talked of Quarts and Pottles,  
And toping Morning's Draughts in Bottles,  
As if I had the filthy Courage,  
To make deboach in Nants and Borage;  
Or like a Porter could Regale,  
With Pots of Pearl, or Mugs of Ale;  
'Twas but false Fire; for in reality,  
I'm of as niggardly a quality,  
As thou art, or our Tribe Divine,  
That on a Pilchers Head can Dine;  
Luxury has so little force,  
On me that now thy Wise Discourse,  
Appears a Banquet, I could Breakfast,  
(My longing Arms about thy Neck-fast,  
Were't not for shame) with looking on,  
The Model of thy Outward Man;  
I always loved thy dapper size,  
Generally active made and wise;  
And better women's Men by half,  
Than Lob's that play at Quarterstaff;  
Nature diminutively allures,  
As Painting does in Miniatures;  
And in thy Person I can see,  
Her Arts sublimest Rarity,  
Like () Renaulds World engraved upon,  
The Surface of a Cherry Stone;  
Thy Wit denotes the airy Part,  
Thy Eyes, the Fire that warms each Heart;  
Thy Beard does th' rugged Earth display,  
And th' Watery Gulf thy Mouth, the Sea.   

Whilst thus our Lady of the Lake,  
In Mistick Praise of Collen spoke;  
His gaping Mouth so wide was spread,  
'twas very like a Gulf indeed;  
Especially with Water flowing,  
To hear expressions so like Wooing;  
The God of Love to show his Art,  
So suddenly had shot his Heart;  
The thrilling Pangs would scarce afford,  
The Lover to get out a Word,  
Till at last rising from the Seat,  
The ruddy Portal of her Pate;  
He first Salutes, and finding she,  
With Smiles received the Courtesy;  
With clumsy hast he next begins,  
To rob her Tippet of its Pins;  
Columbus like resolved to know,  
The Secrets of the World below;  
Nor was she wanting in her Art,  
Of flattery to perform her Part;  
But with an artful Sigh did vow,  
Our Collen far excelled a Beau;  
And that her Love she could not smother,  
To so sincere and kind a Brother:  
Things going thus they soon agreed,  
To ease their Hearts and go to▪ Bed,  
To manage which she desired leave,  
To go and that Affair contrive;  
That so less Eyes might peep upon her,  
And Secrecy secure her Honour;  
To which poor Collen blind with Passion,  
Readily gave his Approbation;  
And as an earnest of his Bliss,  
Twice having brushed her o'er the Phiz,  
As often begged her to make haste,  
Thus pondered on the Action past:   

Tho now my Method of proceeding,  
Is by the Ignorant called Back-sliding;  
None that to knowledge have pretence,  
Can say, I deviate from true Sense:  
The Ancients, as my Father taught,  
Love, of all Gods, most potent thought;  
And that warm Fever of the Mind,  
A Passion of the Noblest Kind;  
For all their Gods and Goddesses,  
From highest to most low Degrees,  
In spite of all their Divine Nature,  
Were Captives made to charming Feature;  
Which does inevitably prove,  
All things must bow to mighty Love;  
Like them the Features of the Fair,  
Have drawn my Heart into Love's Snare;  
Powerfully forced to love this Creature,  
Through Mystical Impulse of Nature;  
Our Tribes I have observed Love stronger,  
Than other Sects, and often longer:  
Woman, to them's a Dainty made,  
Which t'others is as daily Bread,  
Which makes us without more ado,  
Say Grace and eagerly fall too;  
Besides, although I make assault,  
Upon her Person, yet my fault  
Extends to no unnatural way,  
Like that to which Backsliders stray:  
I'm for the Orthodox plain manner,  
Nor will put Popish Tricks upon her;  
Or with Italian Methods Treat her,  
As if she were a four Legged Creature;  
But Christian like, blunt Love pursuing,  
Show I make Conscience of my doing;   

Whilst Collen thus revolving was,  
Upon the Merits of his Case;  
A Fatal Messenger does come,  
Puffing and Sweeting into th' Rome,  
Saying the Nymph was just gone out,  
And by him sent up a Note;  
Which Collen taking pale with dread,  
Thus with an Ague trembling, read,   

The Strumpets Note to Collen,  
My Dad was a Franciscan Friar,  
My Mother a dark Entry Plyer;  
Myself a Lifter, that have made,  
Thy Pocket empty as thy Head;  
The jest will be found out by groping,  
And so Dear John, I leave thee toping.   

As condemned Felon whose belief,  
Has long insisted on reprieve,  
Beholds to th' ruin of his Faith,  
A sudden Warrant for his Death;  
Despairing sinks, so cheated Collen  
Into a deadly Sound was falling;  
Stunned at the loss of Female Crony,  
And what much dearer was, his Money;  
And now to make the Storms of Fate,  
Appear far more unfortunate;  
And prove that Proverb plainer known,  
That says, no Mischief comes alone;  
The Devil, ill Luck, and altogether,  
Had sent the surly Major thither;  
Who dogging Collen from the Play,  
When Strumpet spirited him away;  
Himself in Closet had been stowing,  
And spitefully heard all the Wooing;  
Seen Collins groping, and the Whores,  
With all the other past Amours;  
And now inslated with high Rage,  
Which nought but Railing could assuage;  
On Collen pours (half dead with anguish)  
This Aqua Fortis of ill Language.   

Fortune is kind, john Presbyter,  
To bring me in this Crisis here,  
Where I with pleasure have been noting,  
A Member of the Saints a Goating;  
And seen what other things they feel,  
Besides the Motions of their Zeal,  
That 'tis not only fierce desire,  
Of Heaven does their Passions fire;  
But carnal Deeds may sometimes set,  
Their Dogships in as great a sweat;  
Their Christian Duty frames no terror,  
To hinder Slips of venial Error;  
But that a true bred Strumpet draws,  
Their Tribe as quickly as their Cause;  
After Rich Cargo in dear Sister,  
I prithee change me, Friend, a Tester:  
As Saints are stored with Spiritual Riches,  
So still with Temporal, are their Breeches;  
Where Purse is crammed with Gold as full,  
As with Devotion is the Scull;  
And thou that art a Disputant,  
A profound Stickler as a Saint:  
No doubt this Female here hast drawn,  
To make her give some wealthy Pawn;  
For Lessons of Fanatic Canting,  
And closer Rules of Carnal Sainting:  
But yet methinks that Currish leer,  
No lucky Tokens makes appear;  
But rather thou hast catched a Tartar,  
And been lashed worse, than that from Carter,  
By meeting one that could purloin,  
Not only Credit, but thy Coin;  
If this be true as it appears,  
Why dost not rouse and shake thy Ears;  
Rally thy Wits and tip thy Tongue,  
In Argument some three hours long;  
As thou hast used, and prove by Speeches,  
The Merit of venereal Itches;  
Defend the Virtues of your Elders,  
That get on Strumpets Hans en Kelders;  
And that 'tis done to clear the Reins,  
After long toils of Godly Pains;  
When th' Holderforth that gives the Blessing,  
Calls Whoring Spiritual Refreshing;  
As thou Hypocrisy and Lying,  
A new found Tract of Selfdenying;  
But as a Friend I must advise ye,  
To place your stiff Positions wisely;  
For all your Majors scarce will make,  
Methinks, what's passed for Virtue's sake;  
Or that this Bulker of thee Town,  
Came only here to rub ye down;  
Proposed a Spiritual Collation,  
Of dull long-winded Exhortation,  
Merely to know how you could chatter,  
But for another kind of Matter;  
The inward Virtues of your Purse,  
Engaged her, not your wise Discourse.  
Your canting Topics might have ceased,  
Or cooled your Broth, or what you pleased;  
Had not your Money brought the Dame,  
To Fan and Countenance your Flame;  
T'admire that shaggy Tuft of Hair,  
Tho black and brindled as a Bear;  
And swear that awkered one-eyed Phiz,  
As charming as God Cupid's is;  
Your Corpse, too had she not intended,  
To cheat it, might have been suspended;  
Or if the Devil had come to seize ye,  
That Moment you had found her easy;  
Provided she from Charge released ye,  
And of the Golden God had fleeced ye;  
'Twas that indulged alluring Arts,  
Not any feeling of your Parts;  
Tho whilst she on your Lap was dandling,  
I could perceive what Things were handling;  
From peephole see how you carest her,  
More like a Strumpet than a Sister;  
Where chance did to my Eyes reveal,  
Th' strange stifness of Fanatic Zeal.   

Are these the Morals of that Tribe,  
Which thou so often didst describe?  
Is this yourself denying Practice,  
Dissembling worse than the Fact is?  
He that in Corner sneaking Sins,  
Out-do's the lewdest Libertins;  
Tempts more the anger of his God,  
Since his Devotion is his Bawd;  
For tother's public Infamy,  
Makes use of no Hypocrisy;  
Therefore for th' one deserves heavens Wrath,  
Much less than thou hast done for both.  
How often hast thou been extolling,  
When reeking Brother has been bawling,  
A Lecture against Bawds and Whores,  
Brothels unclean and lewd Amours;  
Affirming th' Bishops did appear,  
Like Baal's Priests to him stood there;  
That such firm Doctrine ne'er was read of,  
Tho Dr. H. shake his Head off;  
Look sourer than the Swisser Cantons,  
And thrash his Parish to Repentance;  
And yet in midst of all thy Zeal,  
For the Old Cause and Common-weal;  
Tho all thy Wits so harassed were,  
To make a Rabbi of a Player;  
And th' Error very like to make,  
Thy twice drubbed Bones, a third time ache;  
By being exposed to Fops and Cullies,  
Spruce Citizens and Flustred Bulleiss;  
Yet in this juncture to be drawn,  
Thence by a Whore, and left in pawn;  
To leave spiritual Intentions,  
To follow carnal vile Inventions;  
With Common Trader hold Discourse,  
And so unguarded leave thy Purse;  
Nay, be so ill contrived a Blockhead,  
As not to know she picked thy Pocket;  
Is mere Enthusiasm, and to me,  
Shows th' Nature of Presbytery;  
Whom Interest and sometimes Whoring,  
Still vary from devout Adoring;  
And though like Saints they seem to be,  
Are all in Corners just like thee.   

Quoth Collen, he that once is down  
On th' Earth no further can be thrown;  
Unless into his Grave, and there,  
I zealously could wish I were;  
Not for your sharp Rebukes or Taunts,  
For those are common to the Saints:  
But for th' abuse of cozening Female;  
Framed for Confusion sure of the Male;  
And moulded to allay the Joys,  
Without her, found in Paradise.   

Some twenty Winters since or more,  
Ere yet my Childhood was passed o'er;  
One Evening to my Father's House,  
Came a Young Tawny tattered Blouse;  
Her Skin showed just that coloured Vellum,  
That walnuts give to those that shell'em;  
And at her Back a Kid that cried,  
Still as she pinched it, fast was tied;  
With which, and wild Egyptian Jabber,  
She got her Living without Labouring;  
She in all Fortune's good or bad,  
Pretended she strange Knowledge had;  
Could foretell loss of Maidenheads,  
And Husbands give to longing Maids;  
And for a Tester given, declare  
What Colour and what Size they were;  
She'd tell by Lines in your left Hand,  
Whither you'd sell or purchase Land;  
What sort of Mischief should undoo Man,  
Whither by Trading, or by Woman;  
Or if your Constitution were,  
Fitter to Marry or forbear;  
Then as you did more Money give her,  
Told things to come, if you'd believe her;  
By Dimples, ragged Warts and Moles,  
Declared the Secrets of your Souls;  
And to all Questions hit so right,  
The Country took her for a Spirit.   

This Succubus or Demidevil,  
Foretold to me my late past Evil;  
That in the Year of forty one,  
Which now my present Age I own;  
My Fate was fixed to be seduced,  
And by a strange Cleft Monster chowsed;  
Which still I thought was meant by Witches,  
Wild Mares, She Monkeys, or Mad Bitch's;  
But in my Heart could ne'er believe,  
A Sister such a Devil, since Eve;  
For that she was one of our Tribe,  
Her Gesture and her Tone describe;  
Nor did her other Actions less,  
Discover she was one of us;  
The Saints oft take it for no failing,  
When Youth and Vigour are prevailing,  
Friendly to meet a Zealous Brother,  
And heartily Caress each other;  
When the Intrigue from neither draws,  
Shame or discredit to the Cause;  
At worst 'tis but a venial Evil,  
But to pick Pockets, that's the Devil;  
The Sisters such abhorrence make,  
Of Theft, they rather give than take;  
And oftener pay for the Exploit,  
Than rob our Purses of a Doit;  
Therefore this late amphibious Beast,  
Was sure the Spawn of some lewd Priest;  
Some Rampant Scoundrel Romish Prig,  
Begot her on a Female Whig;  
And taught her to be Mercenary,  
And Spaniel like to fetch and carry.  
How well this Passage gives occasion,  
To Argue for Predestination;  
Some destined are to loss of Crowns,  
Others Repute, and twenty Pounds;  
Which is the same to me, as them,  
A Kingdom and a Diadem;  
And every other thing must be,  
Persuant to a first Decree;  
For had it on free Will consisted,  
Purse had been here, and I not missed it;  
My Reputation too had been,  
As it was wont to be, serene;  
Whereas in spite of my Complaints,  
I'm now a Scandal to the Saints;  
Exposing in this sort my Honour,  
For being taken in the manner;  
The foulness of my late Transgression,  
Being most the want of my Discretion;  
Crimes still are Mischiefs we expose,  
But that's no fault, that no one knows;  
Especially when it is done,  
Against any power below the Moon:  
For as in Felony no Thief,  
Whose Stars allow him no reprieve,  
We find was ever hanged for stealing,  
But for not luckily concealing;  
So amongst the Saints, none's disrespected,  
For failings, but for being detected;  
The Mischiefs of all Faults unknown,  
Being no more than Thoughts undone;  
How truly Happy had I been,  
If I this Town had never seen;  
But in the Country held the Blow,  
And prepared Land to Till and Sow;  
Secured my Goods or Coin from stealing,  
And the Saints frailties from revealing:  
There in a state of Innocence,  
We meet and Act without Offence;  
No vile Detractor interloping,  
Nor any itching Spy Eves▪ dropping;  
But Cordial Love and Amity,  
Affect both high and low Degree;  
The Brethren with the Sisters prove,  
By fervent Acts, their zealous Love;  
And constantly deserve Applause,  
For th' earnest pushing on the Cause;  
Whilst here in this Satanick Town,  
Rude Carters live to knock Men down;  
One walks in fear to lose one's Beard,  
By Rogues Entitled the Blackguard;  
And if you ere expound a Text,  
To any of the Female Sex;  
'Tis ten to one you meet a Creature,  
Of so depraved and vile a Nature,  
As this my late and worst of Whores,  
That the same time she grasps your— Purse;  
Shall by a Trick as strange as true,  
Deprive ye of your Money too;  
Therefore good Major as you made me  
Come hither, do not now dissuade me  
From instant leaving this vile place,  
Where I can't live but in disgrace;  
Where if I tarry I suppose,  
I shall to morrow lose my Nose;  
For Purse was quite as near to me,  
And yet 'tis stolen from me, you see:  
In th' Honest Country I was born,  
And to that Station must return,  
Where I can Things, and People find,  
Suiting the plainness of my Mind:  
I ought to talk of Hogs and Cows,  
Rather than Laws of th' Commons House;  
For bold aspiring after Fame,  
Has brought me to the Case I am;  
And whither Grumbler or the Whig,  
Are wiser in their Grand Intrigue;  
I'll leave to you that Love disputes,  
And instantly draw on my Boots;  
Then Trot off from this Town of Sorrow,  
More Vile than Sodom or Gomorrow.   

This said, half tumbling o'er the Chairs,  
For haste, Poor Collen got down Stairs;  
Resolving from the Town in Post,  
To ride within an hour at most;  
But how the Major stopped his speed,  
Is for our second part decreed.   
The End of the Fourth Canto.   


ANNOTATIONS TO THE FIRST CANTO OF THE FIRST PART.  
(a) ABdieation, being a Word that has so unexpectedly been thought fit to serve the Nation in so Important a Juncture, though it must needs be known to every one that understands Latin; yet 'tis fit to inform the Ignorant, that it means a Deserting or Relinquishing a Command or Government.  
(b) Captain Tom, a Butcher, who in the beginning of the Late Revolution, having an occasion to dismiss the Mobile raised in great Numbers in Smithfield, spoke thus, Gentlemen of the Mobility of England, I Adjourn you all till to Morrow three in the Afternoon, and take notice you are Adjourned accordingly.  
(c) Little Shock Dogs of Bologna, whose Noses are broken by those that sell 'em to make their Price the better; The Moors generally use their Infants so, believing a flat Nose an admirable Feature.  
(d) OEconomy, ordering, or the prudent government of a Thing.  
(f) Architas, a Famous Mathematician of Tarentum, Renowned by Horace, who speaks of him in one of his Odes; he by rare Cunning delivered Plato from the Tyranny of Dionysius.  
(e) Charleroy, a Town in the Low Countries, which I could not forbear noting, by reason of the extraordinary Renown it bears in being accounted by all that are skilful in the Mathematics, to be the most Regular Fortification in the whole World.  
(g) Pentagons, Bastions, Ravellings, etc. are the Terms of Art used for Part of the Works belonging to a Town Fortified.  
(h) This Hurling is an Ancient Sport used to this day in the Counties of Cornwall and Devon, where once a Year the hardy young Fellows of each County meet; and a Cork Ball thinly plated with Silver, being thrown up between 'em, they Run, Bustle and Fight for it, to the witty dislocating of many a shrewd Neck, or for the sport of telling how bravely their Arms or Legs came to be broke when they get home.  
ay Tusser was an Antique Author, famous for writing a Book of Husbandry, and was just as good a Poet for a Gardener, as our late Tailor was for a Waterman.  
(k) This Conceit is improved by the Story of Dioclesian, who whilst a private Captain had this Augury spoke to him by a Sibil, Imperator eris cum Aprum interfeceris, which he mistaking for a Forest Boar, went daily a Hunting, making great slaughter amongst 'em, but without any Success, till at last fight with Volutius Aper, the right Boar was slain, and the Sibyls words fulfilled.  
(l) Drexelius, a Reverend and Worthy Divine, that writ an admirable Book upon Eternity.  
(m) Cornelius Agrippa, was accounted a Magician at one and twenty Years Old, for writing his Book of Occult Philosophy.  
(n) Zoroaster and Hermes Trismegistus, were two of the first Learned Men that treated of Magic, striving to prove it only the highest and most sacred Philosophy; and that the Name Magician siginifies only a Wise Man, a Priest, a Prophet; and that they were ancieently received and honoured by all Learned Philosophers, commended by Divines, and not unacceptable to the Gospel; though a great many supercilious Censurers, will have 'em to be Sorcerers, and wicked Dealers with the Devil, tempted thereto by Ambition or Interest.  
(o) Hannibal or Annibal, the greatest General of the Carthaginians, was sworn by his Father at first taking up Arms, to be ever a mortal Enemy to the Romans.  
(p) A great part of the Major's grumbling Discourse here was transversed from Dialogues of some Church Men, (as their Habits declared 'em) performed in a Coffeehouse in the City, who I could wish would take honest Collins Advice, Page 38. to be,  

— For Union in the Main,  
What ere Opinion they maintain.   
(q) The seven Sacraments of the Romish Church, which they hold to be instituted by jesus Christ, and necessary to the Salvation of Mankind, though not all of them necessary to every Man.   

ANNOTATIONS TO THE SECOND CANTO.  
(a) ST. Dunstan was Archbishop of Cant. and wielded the Crosier about the Year— a St. of that Purity of Life as the Romanists have rendered, and withal so Artful in Dispute, that once after a long Argument with the Devil, he forced him to own himself confuted, which the vulgar Opinion is, he did, by taking him by the Nose with a great Pair of red-hot Tongues.  
(b) Herbert in his Book of his Travels relates this pleasant Custom of the Ethiopians, which he says was judiciously used to prevent Sodomy; the Brutish Men that Inhabit the Country, being much more inclined to make Cattamites their Mistresses, than Beautiful Women their Wives, which intolerable injury to Honour and Nature, the Poor neglected Females, strove to redress by inventing a Courtesy, whose tempting Quality they believed most likely to draw 'em back to their Duty: To this effect came out an Edict from a certain Queen, Regent there, who the better to allure the Inhabitants from that unnatural Gild, ordained for the Women a certain Habit so strait and narrow, that every Motion exposed their most secret Beauties to the Eye of every Spectator.  
(c) This Passage of Collins Whipping, is in imitation of a real Scuffle that I saw happen between a Carman and a Country Fellow, who amongst a great many others, as it is their daily Custom, was staring and wondering at the Figures that struck the Quarters upon the Bell.  
(d) Here I could not help doing myself the Honour of particularly imitating the Famous Mr. Butler in his Hudibras, who in describing the Combat betwixt the Knight and Talgol, whom he had certainly slain; but— Pallas in the shape of Rust, etc. page—  
(e) Peter Aretine, A Famous Italian Poet and Painter, who for Publishing a Book of shameful Nudities and Postures, was doomed by the Senate to have his Eyes put out.  
(f) Anthropophagis are a Barbarous People of Scythia, who delight so extremely to feed upon Human-Flesh, that they make perpetual War with their Neighbours merely for the Lust of Eating, all whom they Kill or take Prisoners.  
(g) Domitian the Emperor, at his idle Hours would often descend to the petty Tyranny of torturing Flies, about which noble Enterprise he would oft employ himself alone in his Chamber some hours together, insomuch as once when one enquired whether any were within with Caezar, Crispus (in waiting) made answer, Ne Musca quidem.  
(h) Dirundan was the Name of the Sword of Orlando Furioso, as the renowned Italian Poet Ariosto mentions it in his History.  
ay Don Quixot de la Mancha's Tilt with the Windmills, is so obvious to every one, that it would be impertinent to note it further.  
(k) Alluding to his freeing the Slaves that were doomed to the Galleys mentioned in the— Chapter of the History of Don Quixot.  
(l) Fulvia, the Concubine of Quintus Curius, one of the chief Conspirators with Catiline, who according to the Custom of jilts, slighting her Gallant because his Treasure was exhausted, was by him, to regain her Favour, informed of the Conspiracy, which she as soon as known declares to the Consul, not through any point of Honour or Justice, but like a right Woman, through Vanity, that she might take place of Sempronia and Catiline's Mrs. Aurelia Orestilla.  
(m) In Ben johnsons' Tragedy of Catiline, Cicero's Oration to the Senate, and several other Speeches are translated from his own Latin, and that of Sallust Word for Word.  
(n) Palinode signifies a recanting or unsaying of what has been spoken or writ before.   

ANNOTATIONS TO THE THIRD CANTO.  
(a) THE Major in this place seems to make a reflection upon some late Passages of Cuckoldom publicly exposed in Westminster-Hall, which being so generally known, I think improper to explain further.  
(b) This reflects upon an Observation on some Freshwater Officers, whom lately in the Court of Requests in my hearing were severely descanting upon the Conduct and Proceedings of Duke Schomberg, bitterly inveighing against his Slowness in giving Battle, and tainting his fifty Years Experience, with a bold affirmation of what they would Instantly perform if they were in his Post.  
(c) In the same place a Comical Red Nosed Fellow that sells Brandy in or near Bucklersbury in London, was vehemently sputtering his Indignation against the Tax of two Shillings in the Pound, withal, politicly affirming, that to his knowledge the Parliament might maintain the War at a far less Expense to the Subject.  
(d) Several Famous Authors affirm, that the Ancient Egyptians held an Onion in such veneration, that some of the bigoted sort in a ridiculous manner used to kneel down and Worship it.  
(e) This is a new Invention for the Ladies to dress their Heads upon, by the convenience of which the whole Dress may in a Minute be taken off, or put on without any trouble.  
(f) Pliny and Solinus make mention of divers Hairy Nations; and Lycosthenes Writes of a certain Island, the Inhabitants whereof have all their Parts, except their Faces and Palms of their Hands, covered over with long Hair; part of the Hide of such a Savage, a certain Sarmatian sent unto Ulysses Aldrovandus, and is kept in the Musaeum of the Bononian Senate: These kind of Wild Men were first seen at Bononia, when the beautiful Marchioness of Soranium coming thither, was nobly received by the Illustrissimo Marcus Casalius, who brought with her a Hairy Girl of eight Years of Age, being the Daughter of a Wild Man born in the Canaries, whose Effigies 
* Aldrovand. in Monst. Hist.  Aldrovandus exposed to the view of all his Friends as a great Rarity; there are, as Eusebius also writes, in the East and West Indies, Wild Men who are born smooth like our Infants, but as they grow up have Hair covering their whole Bodies.  
(g) This was from an Observation occasioned by the Russian Ambassador, who was here about the Year 1678. who amongst other places visiting Suttons Hospital, in the chief Room chanced to see his Picture drawn, with a great Beard, which gave the Ambassador (who himself wore a very large one) occasion to reflect on the English for leaving off so graceful an Ornament, that their Ancestors so highly esteemed, till one that stood by wittily answered by his Interpreter, The very Goats here wore Beards, which made the Natives count 'em the less Ornament or Honour.  
(h) This I can no further affirm, than▪ that in the Country of Asia where this Queen reigned, a venerable Author Writes of Women generally having Beards, and consequently she amongst therest, for I'll not bate her a Hair for her Quality.  
ay Several Old Women suspected for Witches in and about Lancashire have been often noted to have Beards of considerable growth, though that's no general Rule, some of the Reverend and Virtuous being often liable to the same.  
(k) The Salic Law was made to hinder the Crown of France from falling from the Sword to the Spinning Wheel, i. e. That it never should be inherited by Women; it is called Salic, either from these Words, si aliqua very often used in the said Law, or from the River Sala, near unto which the Franks anciently inhabited.  
(l) This was a piece of Policy in Oliver Cromwell, who whilst the long Parliament sat, and the principal Affairs of State were acting, published an Order for banishing all the Ladies of the Cavalier Party out of London and the Suburbs, that their Wit or Beauty might have no occasion or opportunity to influence his Friends against him.  
(m) To discuss Truth from falsehood in any Speech, is one of the two Ends or Offices of Logic, as the other is to teach a compendious Way to attain any Art or Science, by showing the Method to be observed in coming to the perfect knowledge of them.  
(n) Predicables are certain Degrees of Words that are of one Affinity, showing which comprehend more, and which less; there are five of them in Logic, viz, Genus, Species, Differentia, Proprium and Accidens.  
(o) Ignatius Loyola the Father and Founder of the Jesuits, though never so shrewd a Disputant in his Lucid Intervals, yet was by several less bigoted Writers of his own Order at other times accounted little less than a Madman.  
(p) The infalibillity of Pope joan has been so publicly exposed, I think it needs no further Comment.  
(q. r.) A little Treatise of Martin Luther's to Cardinal Borachio, confutes admirably the Arguments of St. Ignatius concerning the Sacrifice of the Mass; and this Story of Loyola's beating the Devil, is recorded by the Romanists themselves in the History of his Life, where Page80. we have an account of the Devils appearing to him, endeavouring to disturb him in his Prayers, and was by him as often as he came, very well Cudgelled and Drubbed away, which if I have changed into a Boxing bout to adapt it the nearer to my Poem, I hope the Author has received no Injury, and that the Reader will forgive me.  
(s) Causin and Cressy, two Jesuitical Writers, and great Asserters of Romish Miracles.  
(t) The Original of this Story of St. Clare, may be found in Cressy's History, page 411. amongst many other of the same Nature, just as true as this.   

ANNOTATIONS TO THE FOURTH CANTO.  
(a) THis Passage may be found in the History of Don john de Castro, written by—— which confirms the great value the Portuguese and Spaniards put upon their Beards, which Punctilio they held to so severe a Degree amongst 'em in general, that when one Le Rock, a Famous Banditti, was taken and Condemned to be Executed at a certain day for several insolent Robberies and Murders, yet pawning a Tuft of his Beard to his Keeper, that if he would let him in the interim go abroad and dispatch a small Affair, he would return punctually to the time; it was granted him; and having ended his Business came honourably back that very Morning to redeem his Whisker, and was accordingly Executed.  
(b) The Character of an Impudent Playhouse Orange Wench, being there every day acted, I think needs no further Comment.  
(c) An Ancient and Heroic Queen of Britain.  
(d) Alexander White and Peter Herrigone, two very Famous and Learned Mathematicians.  
(e) These Grandees are meant by Oliver Cromwell's Privy Council, who after they had been laying the Scene of some brave Fellows Ruin, frequently fell to drinking, and in the middle of their Cups, their chief diversion was to knock one another off the Chairs with Cushions.  
(f) Renauldus or Rhinaldus, an exquisite german Artist, that Engraved the World so Artificially on a Cherry-Stone, that as a Famous Antique Author reports, there might plainly be dicerned each particular Kingdom or Country— Believe as you think good, etc.   
FINIS.