THE CHARACTER OF A Sham-Plotter or Man-Catcher.  
A Sham-Plotter (to begin with his Pedigree) is the Spawn of a Papist, as a Toad-Poll of a Toad, their Inwards and Venom are the same, but they differ in outward Shape, Lineaments, and Proportion, for want only of maturity:  
For Evasions, Lies, Oaths and Equivocations, he is Conscienced like a Jesuit, Covetous as Ahab, and Bloodthirsty as Jezabel.  
You may call him Horseleech; for blood he thirsts, by blood he lives, and by blood he usually dies, 'tis his Food and his Bane, as Fatal as Pleasant to his Appetite.  
He is the Land-Pyrate, that Pickaroons' men's Lives and Estates, by putting out false Colours, his whole Cargo and Stock being only a stock of Impudence, Lies and Oaths.  
For he Swallows Oaths with as nimble conveyance as Hocus does Knives; and as ready to spew them up again to Murder the Innocent: for the Daggers that Clement's and Ravilliacks carried in their Sleeves, he carries in his Mouth, ready when his Cue comes, to Stab his Brother with the Dexterity of Cain, and for the same Reason; because more Righteous than himself.  
There is no more fence against his strokes, than against Lightning or Thunderbolts, no caution, no prudence, no Innocence can protect; God help the while.  
He gets his Bread (like the Spanish-bravoes) by killing of men, and when Conscience flies in his Face for it, he fobs her off, with saying— It is his Trade, and Vocation.  
He is the worst and blackest of Knights of the Post; for these formerly Swore men out of nothing but their Estates, but this Vulture and Bird of Prey is Keen and Sharp, flies at all: can ruin Life, Honour, Estate and Posterity at once.  
No man ever took more pains in hunting after Game for his Pleasure, than this does for Gain and Revenge; he beats every Bush, turns every Stone, insinuates into all Companies, seeks occasion, gives occasion and provocation, incessant in mischief, like a truebred Incarnate-Devil, walking to and fro, seeking whom he may devour.  
He is so very a Judus that he often betrays his own Masters and Employers, (as Imps betray Witches so) this Imp betrays to the Gallows the Hags that suckled him, fed and nourished him.  
For (like other Asses) he follows his Rider only for the sake of Provender, and when that is done or eaten, rewards his Keeper with a kick, and a jade's trick if he can.  
For his Life is the great Riddle of the world, it puzzles the wisest Critics to know what to make of him; for here you shall have him, and there you shall have him; sometimes Swears on one side, sometimes another. And when you think you have him sure, Ixion-like, you do but Hugg a Cloud and Embrace a Shadow; for there's nothing of Truth, substance or reality in him; he changes his Oaths, as Chapmen come, or (as at a Lyth-Coop) for— who bids more?  
Nothing being the Master of his Conscience but money, and therefore no more credit to be given to his Oaths or Words, than to those Ambodexter-Lawyers, that take Fees on both sides, Plead Pro and Con, Bawling, (like Cursed Curs) at their very Masters whose handsfed them but the day before; being therefore the very Baboons of Ingratitude, as having nothing in them of humanity, but the shape.  
This Couple or pair usually Hunt together, and in Couples, being as necessary to each other as the Pickpocket and Rope-Dancer; or as the Bawd and the Whore; or as the Lion and Jackall; or a Pimp and a Whoremaster; or a Greyhound and a Finder; or a Mountebank and his Fool; the one Sets, and brings in Game, and the other Hunts it down, and then both go snips in the Prey; both of them are best pleased and most applaud their Industry when Prosperous in Villainy; then Huzzah,— Huzzah.— And, like other Toads, the more Venom they suck, the greater they gram, swell and look big: for their Primum Mobile is hopes of Preferment, and money, money; that's the burden of their Song to their Clients and Customers (like that of Jago in the Moor of Venice) go, put money in thy Purse, make all the money that thou canst, Fill thy Purse with money.  
The Judge and Jury that would take them right, must Construe them as they do Dreams (or Witches-Prayers) read them backward, and by the Contrary.  
When these pair of Brothers meet (like two Knives) (as in a late instance) they whet one another, and sharpen to mischief.  
The Indian-Cannibals and Man-eaters are (to my knowledge) but a Romance to these, that (like the wild Arabs in the Desert) live upon man's Flesh, and get their living by Mummy.  
When they ●ope their breath-selling-mouths, you would think Pandora's Box begun to gape and open, for out flies Plagues, Death and Ruin.  
There's no more Truth in them, then in an Hypocrite; And they are as full of Lies as any Gazet, or Domemestick-Intelligence; and as full of Flattery as an Epistle Dedicatory; or a Probational Sermon (in presence of the Patron) when the trembling Candidate has prospect of a Benefice.  
They (both of them) Love and Hate (as their Whores do) only for money and preferment; and to compass their ends become the Renegadoes of Truth, Honesty and Religion.  
But I'll uncouple the Dogs a while, and Hunt them single;  
And first methinks I see my Sham-Plotter; I know him by his looks, which are as full of Melancholy and Despair, as the Sibyls of old, or Mother Shipton meager and wan, as always poring on Revenge, and meditating and remembering his latter end (I mean) Hell and the torments thereof, which have begun to commence in his own Bosom.  
For his mind is hot as Aetna, and his Conscience (when he is awake and not drunk) is Turgid and troubled, as the Bay of Biscay, always threatening a a Storm; his visage (like Faux in disguise) ready to give Eire to the Train of a well and deep-laid-Plot.  
His love, (if he have any,) is only that of Cuckolds, loves them best that are his undoers; nor is he ever good natured or merciful but (as Cowards are) when he dares not be mischievous: for he has no more remorse, Follow-feeling, pity or relenting, than a man of Alabaster.  
He has the Plague all over him, and like other infected Persons, desires to spread his Venom and Infection, and kill as many as he can; and therefore all that know him, avoid him, as the Pestilence.  
Nay, He's the worst of Plagues, Charity is never a sin but to him alone. 'tis a sin, to bid him— God-speed, or to write so much as a— Lord have mercy— o'er his door.  
In short, to Limn him right, he's the very Picture in little, or Epitome of H●raclitus Ridens, (that is) a Villain Burlesque, an equal Compound of Knave and Fool, the single Hieroglyphic, of Balaam and his Ass together.  
He's mischievous in Earnest, but never speaks Truth but in Jest, or makes a Jest of Truth; a serious-dull-Phlegmatick piece of Scurrility; and like Merry-Andrew spoils all the first proffers of Ingenuity, by being Flaccid, and stail at the last, and nauseous to a Crambee; a mere Common-Place of Dulness and Calamny ana, or the Grimace of Honour and Wit.  
Yet, as prosperous as he is in Villainy, he's as poor as a bad Poet, or as a Lampoon-maker, or an Intelligencer: but as Impudent in begging, as the Mumpers in Lincolns-Inn-fields, for he seeks to all Comers; and a Pension the Slave will have one where or another, from the good, the bad.  
For his Debauchery and Riots make him poor and Needy, And his Poverty (like his Lusts) makes him a Beggar and a Pensioner, sometimes Mumping for an Alms from Rome, sometimes from the University; Yet as Poor as he is, he is ('Tis Strange) also guilty of Covetousness, The Root of all Evil, enough, (like Original Sin) to Infect the whole Generation.  
To give some Credit to his Sham's, he often interlaces his Discourse,— Remember— 41. Meaning the Commencement of the Unnatural Troubles in England in— 41.  
But he never Intends thereby that men should Remember the Bloody Massacres of his Brethren (the Tories) in Ireland in— 41. Nor has he (now) any more Pity or Remorse for an Innocent man (when his Turn comes to Swear) than his Brethren the Irish Cutthroats showed to the Innocent Babes in— 41. When they Ripped them alive out of their Mother's Bellies, and carried them on the Top of their Spears, (as Trophies of their Murder) in— 41. A Cruelty Designed for all Protestants in England, Scotland, and Ireland, in— 41. If God Almighty and their Valour had not Subdued the Rebell-Cut-Throats— in 41. Come then, Let's Remember still— 41.— 41.  
When Shoals of these Shirks these Tories and Sham-Plotters, appear Barefaced in any Land or Nation, they are as Fatal and Prodigious, as Sword-fish, Sharks, and Whales, when thrown up in the Thames, always Foreboding some ensuing Plagues, War, or Mischiefs, like Vultures that Haunt (by wise Presage) an Army before a Bloody Battle, Prophesying Streams of Blood shortly to Ensue.  
He never Forswears Villainy till he comes to the Gallows (like Fitzh-) and can no longer Practise it; like Gamesters that Forswear play, only when their Moneys are lost and gone, and they want Stakes to play on.  
He likes his Trade (as bad as it is) because since he left the Pad, he has no other; and he likes it so much the better, because he cannot break on't till he break his Neck; nor ever will want Customers or Money, till the World wants Villainy, or till Truth get Credit in the World.  
He Swears and gives in Evidence (as a Young player says his Part) only as he is Prompted, But Blushes no more when he's out of his Story, and has Sworn Counter, then does an Old Stage-Player, hardened to the work, and Inur'd beyond the possibility of Modesty or shame for an Escape.  
His Complexion is always A-la-mode (I mean) Painted and Hypocritical; he is not (nor does he Desire to seem) what he is: For should he appear as naked as Truth, he would look as Ghastly and Deformed, as old Lady Death's head (the French Pimp) before her Essences are laid on: But let him Trim himself with some Dress of Religion, Loyalty and Honesty, and of (I know not what) Church, yet if you knew his Inside, you would think yourself among the Negroes, and (with them) call the Devil, (Strange it should be)— a White-man.  
He's a Younger Brother (both by Father and Mother side) to the A-la-mode-Murderers, the Poisoners in France, Engendered by a Jesuit upon a Succubus (or she Devil,  
His very Smiles are as Dangerous as the Fawn of a Mad-Dogg; he offers to lick your Fingers only to Snap at them; therefore keep him at a Distance, and Stave's-End; For his Embraces are as Fatal as those, of his Whore; and as hollow and Counterfeit as those of the Prelate, when he Cringes, and Bows; Leers and grins fawns and smiles on an Athiestical Don or Pimp.  
An Informer or Promoter comes a far short of a Sham-Plotter as a Chick in Embryo from a feathered Fowl, or as a sucking Imp from a Grand Devil, or as a Whelp from a Dog of the same kind time and experience will improve him, and make him perfect Dog.  
In short, He's more Cowardly than a Tory, and yet Lustful enough to Debauch the Stews; and therefore the old Character fits him to a hair, namely, Mars ad opus Veneris, Martis ad Arma Venus.  
In English thus: 
In Sports of Venus' he's a Mars,  
But a mere Woman in the Wars.   
Or thus: 
When he's to fight his heart is broke,  
But at a Wench he's heart of Oak.   
Or thus: 
In the grim Wars (alas!) he's no Man;  
He'll play the Man (tho') with a Woman.   
He never confesses his Villainy, except (as Thiefs sometimes do) to acquit himself by Impeaching his fellow Criminals.  
In fine, (for I am weary of drawing his Picture, and sick of him and his Deformities) He has Impudence enough to outstare a Courtier, and make him blush; Knavery enough to teach a Jew, a Proctor. or a Register; Lechery enough to tutor a Cardinal; Atheism and Irreligion enough to pervert a Renegado, and make him worse; Oaths, Curses, and Imprecations enough to profane a Court, or the Ordinaries; Folly and Madness enough to merit Bedlam; yet Roguery enough to merit Bridewell; Lies enough to outvie a Traveller, or THOMPSON the INTELLIGENCER; Cruelty enough to improve an Irish-Tory; Dulness and Slander enough to out- Billingsgate HERACLITUS RIDENS; Villainy enough to misled and scandal a Goal; Sycophantry enough to out-pimp— etc.— Flattery enough to out-dwindle a Prelate; Prodigality enough to Instruct (as well as Ruin) a Young Heir; and yet Covetousness and Ambition enough to surpass a Conclave; Hellish Stratagems and Sham-Plots enough to shame the Devil or a Jesuit; Profaneness enough to out-rant a Tory; Ingratitude enough to equal Judas himself; Despair enough to hang himself; yet Vileness enough to discredit the Gallows. And there I leave him, for that groans for him, and is often his— END.  
But we have had too much of him already: For his further Character I refer you to that Seasonable Sermon of the Horrid Sin of Man-Catching, where you'll find this Man-Catchers Picture is drawn to the Life by E. H.   

LONDON, Printed for Ab. Green, 1681.