PICTURES Of PASSIONS, FANCIES, & AFFECTIONS. Poetically Deciphered, in Variety of CHARACTERS.  
By THO: JORDAN, Gent.  
Et veniam pro laude peto, laudatus abunde  
Non fastiditus, si tibi Lector ero.  
LONDON, Printed by R. Wood.   

PICTURES Of PASSIONS, FANCIES, & AFFECTIONS. Poetically Deciphered in variety of CHARACTERS.  

The Parliament of England. INVOCATION.  
GReat Genius of my Country, whose bright eyes,  
Are macerated with our miseries;  
Whose unrefisted royalty convinces,  
The power of Prelacy, and pride of Princes;  
Great Secretary to the Fate of Thrones,  
That turn'st the wheel of Revolutions;  
That put'st a period to Imperial Stems,  
And crownest conquerors with Diadems:  
Beneath the steps of whose immortal station,  
Sits (the selected safety of our Nation)  
The supreme Power: Oh! pardon my instrusion,  
If on bent knees, I beg the sweet infusion  
Of thy clear Spirit; which in sacred slumbers,  
May fill my soul with matter, phrase, and numbers,  
Pregnant and perfect: Let my impartial pen,  
Picture the proper praises of those men,  
Whom Providence, by a decree of Fate,  
Hath made the succours of our suffering State.   

The Character.  
A Parliament, conveneth by the voice  
Of the best N●tives, fitted for free choice;  
In which no private Passion or Affection,  
Should sway the equal balance of Election;  
Where every man is just, and doth not waver  
For future fear, nor yet for former favour:  
They do not choose Old folly, nor Young neatness,  
Unrighteous Riches, nor ungodly Greatness;  
But their Election to discretion yielding,  
They find fit timber for the famous building.  
The grand Conjunction of the Nation signs,  
To this Convention; where each man inclines  
To actuate his Countries good, which he,  
Prefers above his life, or liberty:  
(Not born for 
* 1 Cor. 10.24.  himself) doth daily strive  
How he may meliorate the Common hive;  
Where (as he led his life) he shines a Star  
In council; or a Meteor at the Bar:  
Here, men (like Surgeons) boldly do propound  
Lancets and salvoes, for the public wound.  
Some Members are cut off, others are bound  
Up; that they may preserve the body sound;  
Nothing is unattempted to gain health,  
When as the Patient proves the Commonwealth.  
Here (without wrath) one Neighbour calls another  
To strict account; the words, Father and Brother,  
Are useless; for who ever doth intend  
Ill to the State, is voted no man's Friend:  
Here all do take a relish from one Cup,  
The poor man sinks not, whilst my Lord gets up:  
It is not strength shall break the public Hedge,  
But all enjoy an equal privilege;  
he that respects no persons, bids us be  
In point of Justice, Holy 
* 1 Pet. 15.16.  even as HE.  
The Parliament of England are endued,  
With power to Constitute, Transact, Conclude,  
To Make, Enlarge, to Alter, to Diminish;  
To nullify, Revive, Repeal, Replenish,  
In Church, or State; with purpose to advance,  
By Law, by Statute, Act, or Ordinance:  
All matters Civil, Common, Capital,  
Criminal, Martial, and Municipal,  
With Maritine affairs: It is indeed,  
Our Nations Soul, and Body, the decreed  
And only Power to us, on Earth; whose use is,  
To Right the wronged, and suppress Abuses;  
Where sight-less Justice, is not set to sale,  
Or forced, by th' weight of gold, to turn her scale:  
Where the impartial, wel-enacted Laws,  
Countenance nothing but an honest Cause:  
To rectify the wretched from such wrongs,  
As may arise from Bribes, or Pleaders tongues:  
It is a Sacred, and transcendent Session,  
Where the unblemished Purple, daunts oppression:  
The Poor man's refuge, and the Just man's care,  
The True man's trial, and the False man's fear:  
The Good man's Sanctuary, Bad man's grief,  
The Weak man's prop, the Wretched man's relief;  
The Patient man's reward, the scourge of Pride,  
The Simple's safety, and the Nation's guide.   

A complete Man.  
HIs Life is our best method, and the Graces  
Compose him a fair Book of Common places  
Directing to all virtues, that inherit  
The glorious Microcosm of blood and Spirit.  
His Birth, is not his boast; for he will treat  
Of his blessed Ancestors, as Good, not Great:  
And though the Tapers of their Fame wax dim,  
Th' illumination is supplied by him;  
Whose most enumerate virtues make such swarms,  
You'll know his House, better by's Arts, than Arms:  
He studies man, and doth extract from thence  
A knowledge, gained by safe Experience:  
So justly square he is, that we may see  
In him, nature's best Rules of Geometry:  
A Dye without a Chance; whom fortune's face  
With smiles, or frowns, makes neither Sice nor Ace:  
So uncorrupted with his country's crimes,  
He 'scape their plagues, & fears no change of Times;  
Who keeping in his own sublimed height,  
Elects Friends not by Number, but by Weight,  
That never durst admit of such a Treason,  
As privilegeth Passion to rule Reason:  
Whose self-confining Edicts can maintain  
All Acts of Parliament, to him are vain  
And useless; since he needs no law at all,  
Who to himself is a Law rational:  
He is not one that mourns, or rejoices  
At new Events, according to most voices;  
And thinks the true tract to Eternal Rest,  
Is not the Road which Most resort, but Best:  
For matter of Deportment, he'll ne'er fall  
At odds, to see a worse man take the Wall,  
Assume the Table; or appear disgraced,  
If, amongst many, he's saluted last:  
In Argument, he treads a wary pace,  
And you may read your error in his Face:  
In Disputations of Religion, he  
Bars things Inscrutible, or Mystery:  
His holy Actions such a faith expresses,  
That none ask what Religion he professes,  
Indep: or Presbyt: what he was, he's still,  
And will remain so, call it what you will:  
Honour is not his aim, though he would have  
That worth which makes just Honour truly brave.  
Like him that is contented with the fate  
Of a squire's Title, and a Lord's Estate:  
Calamities, and Court-preferments, he  
Looks on with such a mediocrity,  
That though the first would vex, the latter love him;  
Both alike move, but never can remove him.  
He is that real A●gus that can keep,  
(In spite of Mercury) his eyes from sleep:  
For flattery with an alluring tongue,  
Like Hermes pipe, shall never do him wrong:  
He loves his Equals, envies no superiors,  
And proves an humble pattern to inferiors:  
He safely sits above, and sees the sally  
Of Peace-deflowrers, die the verdant Valley:  
Who 'gainst his unknown foes, doth well agree,  
To use his breastplate, not artillery:  
Conceiving though Hell threatens greatest harms  
To Man, yet Innocency wants no Arms.  
He is a Tower so flanked on every part,  
By something more than mathematic Art;  
That Envy, Pride, or Malice, cannot be,  
The discomposers of his unity:  
But every shot sent from a Foe (Perplexed  
At Goodness) proves prevention to the next.  
His high resolves fixed by divine consent  
Pass Persian Laws, or Acts of parliament:  
Thus with an even pace, wears many years,  
Dying imbalm'd in good men's spiritual tears:  
These are the Virtues make poor man complete,  
Whilst wealth & crimes patch up the rich man great,  
But never good; for Hell and her Complices  
Contrive to bury him quick in his own Vices:  
When tother's winged Soul ascends the skies,  
With contribution from each Good man's Eyes▪   

A Drunkard.  
DOth drink himself away to drown his sorrow;  
A man in esse, one that will to morrow  
Mend all his former Breaches, if his Groat  
Do not betray him to a morning's draught;  
Which being with club-husbandry expended,  
He cries to morrow, till the year be ended;  
And in effect appears vainer than they  
That would attempt to recall yesterday:  
The Pot and Pipe are wheels that give him motion,  
He's like a reeling Ship i'th' raging Ocean  
Unpiloted; with all her canvas spread,  
If one a harbour get, tother a bed:  
By passing fatal imminent Events,  
Both are secured without their own consents.  
He that is Lion-spirited in drink  
Dares attempt more than sober men dare think;  
His wine-wracked brain betrays him to all faction▪  
With both hands dextrous for sinister actions:  
The failing of his tongue makes him appear  
V●x'd that he thinks of oaths he cannot swear:  
Which want, preserves his secrets from expense,  
And proves a double (dumb) convenience;  
Then, if he meet with no resisting Evil,  
Small beer, and sleep, may dispossess the Devil.  
But there's your antic-drunkard, he that reels  
And makes his wise head, understand his heels,  
That with his irksome Dances will out-weary  
Patience, and break his legs to make you merry,  
Who hath as many ways to drink a health  
As ere the Jew his father had for wealth:  
That's devilishly affected with new oaths  
And drowns himself in Frolicks, to burn clothes;  
Who thinks there's no such precious wit as that,  
Th' astonished, wiser People, wonder at;  
And all that claim but common sense, abhor it:  
Yet as they wish, they have, they're laughed at for it:  
But in the next Room look, and you shall view  
One that doth melt himself in Maudlin dew  
On sober Cups, whose sublimed thoughts do raise  
The liquid zeal with Tears, and Scripture phrase,  
Who with dissolved soul upon the board▪  
Not only spills God's good Wine, but his Word;  
Yet vows on Superstition to trample,  
Then drinks, and bids us follow his Example:  
He much condemns the times, and doth express  
A bitter anguish against drunkenness:  
And fitly doth appear in this, like they  
Who bear a light, and stumble in the way,  
His urinary Eyes, as they do borrow  
The moisture from the Pot, pay it in sorrow▪  
And if true penitence in tears are found,  
His sin and penitence do run the round,  
He sits and sighs, whilst the sad sitters by  
Must needs conclude his sorrow makes them dry;  
But yet he drinks to all, and doth prevent  
Their pledge, as masspriests give the Sacrament.  
Now all the liquour's out, for in his Eye  
You may behold the juiceless vacancy:  
His sluices (too) are shut, and by good chance  
He sighs himself into a holy trance:  
Therefore we'll leave him, and direct your Eye  
On one that drinks by Rules of Policy:  
Whispers blank Healths, and his discourse begins  
With pinching arms, and kicking of your Shins,  
And in his Winks, and Nods, cautelous he  
Appears the very Map of Mystery:  
Speak of a King, or State, and you may spy  
A hundred Notions in his wary Eye,  
To figure an obstruction; and will cry  
This is no place to talk of Majesty,  
Let's drink our Drink up; such a cautious Else  
Will make a Jealous Fool suspect himself;  
For he, in every twinkling of an Eye,  
Would seem to read some strange Discovery:  
But it grows late, and he must needs dispatch  
To traverse home, where (by the way) the Watch  
Examines him, and finding him so sly  
In answering, attach him for a spy.  
To conclude all, Drink is the souls disquiet,  
The wrack of Reputation, Road to Riot;  
The Port to pains Eternal, the decay  
Of Life, Goods, Honour; hell's broad beaten way.   

A melancholy Man.  
IS one that lives in singleness of folly,  
Whose Summum bonum is his melancholy:  
A stray sheep from the fold, a piece of Earth  
Digged from a Quarry where the Lead takes birth.  
A Lute untuned, a strange mysterious Fable,  
Of one unsociably sociable:  
His sighs are broken Air, and his hoarse Hum,  
Like a dead March, beat on a funeral drum:  
The pleasures of the world, and he, agree  
As fire, and parchment, the antipathy  
Unto Time, Tune, and Mood, and wonders what  
Men (when they laugh) see to be merry at:  
A man of mingled thoughts, that only tend  
Unto a prosecution, without end;  
One in whose head more drums and rattles are,  
Than sunshine days display in Smithfield Fair;  
In company you'll find him by these types,  
He gnaws his gloves, cuts trenchers, or breaks pipes  
And if you tell a story, you shall know  
His approbation, by his I and No  
Unpleasingly misplaced, which strange applause  
Hath i●s direction from the Speakers pause:  
He sleeps with open eyelids, and the theme  
His fancy works on, is a waking dream  
Of studied nothing, which at your departing  
Vanisheth (Vision-like) with sudden starting:  
He's the contriver of cross arms, fixed eyes,  
Treads tractless fields, dark groves, and much complies  
With mourning myrtle, Willow, ivy, and  
The straying streams of an indented strand:  
His walks are deserts, if he chance to see  
The ruins of an old razed priory,  
As motionless as the object he appears,  
And sets his fancy back five hundred years;  
His nights are vigils, where he nature wrongs  
By measuring time, as Choristers do songs:  
His own distempers make him turn so oft  
From place to place, no pillow can be soft;  
A down-bed is a quarry, a bare board  
Hath as much ease as feathers can afford;  
He lies, sits, treads on thorns, and yet we may  
Not hence infer, he is in heaven's way;  
For Hell accounts such hapless souls her own,  
Whom black despair instructs to be alone;  
His practice are strange looks, and doth profess  
The egregious garb of studied carelessness,  
Yet vexeth at your Boots, to see you go,  
With not a span, distant from Top to Toe.  
But this mad Malady doth often spring,  
From the soft mischief of self-humouring,  
Or an affected Pride; which being crossed,  
The World and he, are to each other lost;  
And prove so potent in imperious passion,  
They ne'er admit of Reconciliation.  
He's no Religion, though he do insist,  
Much on the tenants of a Separatist;  
For such repugnance is in flesh and blood,  
Men when alone, seldom converse with Good.  
If this disease proceed from being crossed  
In Love, and's amorous expectation lost;  
There's nothing more his ecstasy can move,  
Then sad Romancies, where men die for Love;  
Who by a quiet intelligence doth find,  
That Birds chant out his griefs 'gainst Womankind.  
He knows you crystal Brook, or silver borne,  
For his unhappiness, are taught to mourn;  
And in carved Characters, each Tree shall tell,  
The falseness of his fairest Florimell.  
But if the rancour of this disposition;  
Take root from being thwarted in Ambition,  
The fierce resentments make him malcontent,  
And (growing great) proves oft a punishment,  
To peaceful Nations; on whose ruins, he  
Resolves to raise up Towers of tyranny,  
High as projected Babel; till it please,  
God to destroy it, with all Languages.  
He is the Bane of Government, the Fate,  
And fierce affliction to the Church and State:  
Not caring so his arrogancy thrives,  
If the red purchase cost three kingdoms lives.   

A Plundering Coward.  
OF all our Martial Evils he's the worst,  
Who fain would write himself Man if he durst,  
His bulk, and needless magnitude hath shown  
The symptoms of (what he's afraid to own)  
An active honest man; although we may  
Conclude, nought is more different than they;  
There's less antipathy twixt Lamb, and Fox:  
Honest, and Coward, is a Paradox  
So great, that wiser Judgements may agree,  
Poison and Balsam have a Sympathy,  
Compared to them; He dares not be of that  
Religion he must fight for; but is what  
You please to call him, which (if understood)  
It shall go hard, but he will make it good:  
No man like him so guilty of detraction,  
But hates the words of Sword, and Satisfaction;  
The hour of Six, St George's fields, the length  
Of Weapons, with a Secondary Strength;  
Su●● circumstance as this hath power to kill,  
Mo●● lightning-like than the Weeks mortal Bill  
Presented to a Usurer, when he  
Thinks of his crimes, and his mortality:  
A Debtor meets a Sergeant with less fear,  
Or Indian Merchants galleys from Algiers;  
Yet he's the only thing that is most froward  
To his own Tribe, & speaks the base word Coward,  
With such emphatical contempt, as if  
He were Bellona's Officer in chief:  
He'll lie (to) and be told so, yet you may  
(For aught he knows) live many a fair day  
Without accounting for't; no man as he  
Doth bluster so in civil company:  
Or puts the Drawers and Bar-boy in fear;  
But (if by hapless Chance) women be there,  
His Dialect is Gunpowder, his frown,  
Designs the sacking of some stately Town:  
His ruddy rhetoric speaks nought but Wars,  
Drums, Trumpets, Cannons, Granado's, petards;  
Hurting the Ladies with uncivil force,  
To show them how he charged a Troop of horse,  
And killed their chief Commander: Till they pray,  
He will be pleased to fight no more that day:  
At which he cries, Ladies I must confess,  
This language is not for your gentleness;  
I shall be silent, but will only tell,  
How by one Cannon shot ten thousand fell,  
At storming of a City; then (it may be)  
Ere that, some Gentleman relieves my Lady,  
That knows his vapouring, to whom he dares,  
Sooner breath Blasphemy, then speak of wars;  
A boy out-braves him, if he can but threat him,  
And each man is his master that dares beat him;  
(That's every man that knows him) to whom he  
Hath vowed allegiance, Love, and Loyalty:  
His Friend is one for whom he doth not care,  
Because subjected not to love but fear:  
He's one the town rides without bit or snaffle,  
Kicked capable of every sort of bafflle;  
And is contented to bestow the strife  
(Received abroad) at home upon his wife,  
Or quaking servants; nay, his very Doxy  
Shall suffer, thus he grows revenged by proxy:  
The fiddlers greatly fear him, whom he puts  
To flight, or frets them to the very guts:  
If martial law for plunder han't destroyed him,  
I'll teach you by his habit to avoid him;  
His look and language are both rude, and rough,  
His plump corpses laced in with larded buff  
Of primitive cow's skin, which he doth regard  
So much, that all his actions are Cow-ward.  
His hat pinned up, a black patch cross the nose,  
A heavy iron sword, which fondly grows  
To the kind scabbard, and (the more to brave it)  
A greasy scarf, fat as the fist that gave it.  
But if he have a fortune, you shall see  
His Cowship in more glittering bravery;  
Of beaver, feather, silver spurs, rich hilt,  
The medal of his General in gilt,  
Yet is an army's Cipher, and doth cumber  
The place he rides in, to make up the number.   

A Valiant Man at Arms.  
HE is the Magazine of Mental treasure,  
A man that wants not Tincture, Weight, or Measure;  
Whose virtues are an everlasting story,  
With every Act, showing the maker's glory▪  
He is the darling of a noble Nation,  
And on the Liberal Arts frames his foundation.  
(The Pedestal of Honour) for he knows,  
We meet as well with wise, as fighting Foes:  
And that his judgement who leads Troops of Men,  
Must be well versed in the Why, How, and When  
Great Actions may be entertained; and be  
Exactly skilled in counter-policy:  
If in the Volume of his Ancestry,  
He read no public Acts of Chivalry,  
He thinks his task the greater; and is fitted,  
In all things, to perform what they omitted:  
But if he find it filled with loyal glory,  
He well continues, and augments the Story:  
Thus armed, his Prince's Crown, & Countries Right  
Gives him Commission, to go forth and fight.  
Rashness he understands not, but is sure,  
It is no virtue; and doth well enure,  
His care-devoted mind with Patience,  
The ready Road to free Intelligence:  
Now Arts, (and a Just cause) give him the power  
Of a prevailing, martial orator;  
Where with sincerity, void of Invention,  
His Language doth so meet the Apprehension  
Of vulgar Auditory, that the sky  
Is filled with the Free Votes of Live and Die  
With our renowned Commander, who inspires  
Their hearts, as one spark lights a thousand fires:  
This Pleaseth, but not makes him Proud, or grace  
His new found Fate, with an Affected pace,  
Or Garb ostentative, as if he were  
Something, he knows not how to make appear:  
His speech is Affable, his words are weight,  
His Commands Gentle, his Directions straight,  
His Memory mature, his danger such  
It well expresseth that he is as much  
In Storms, as State; so Provident of's Men  
That he would not lose One, to purchase Ten▪  
Yet his heroic Resolution  
Gives Twenty Quarter, rather than kill One:  
And all his Cruelty is, he will give  
Life to some desperate men, that would not Live.  
His soldier's Poverty finds such regard,  
From him, they're never Paid, but with Reward,  
Conceiving it an interest as due  
Unto their Merits, as the Cause is true:  
Only a Coward wants his Love, for he,  
Thinks better of a valiant Enemy:  
And sooner will preserve a fierce Foes breathe  
Then save a Coward from deserved Death:  
His Army sticks as close unto a Town,  
As ivy to their walls, And 'tis the Crown  
Of his Ambition, that he dares to be  
So near a neighbour to his enemy:  
He parley's, Summons, takes their Propositions,  
Signs them, & proves more firm to his Conditions  
Than Persians to their Laws, entering the City,  
His Garb declares rather a noble Pity  
Than an insulting Pride, and nothing more  
Invites him to become a Courtier  
Than do the trembling Women, to whom he  
Uows himself Guardian, not an enemy:  
No Bells rung, Bonfires made, but all is done  
With such a solid Celebration,  
As if the conqueror well understood  
Triumphs are terrors that be dy'd in blood:  
This is the Man whose Acts give life to Fame,  
And doth nobilitate his Countries Name:  
Whose memory (sweet as the pious prize  
The Gods accept in a pleased sacrifice)  
Should be preserved from the ravenous fists  
Of wasting Time, by our best Annalists:  
Death is the Life of Good men, and since he  
Must, at the last, show his Mortality,  
Let all great hearts attempt with active power  
To practise what the Grave can not devour.   

A complimental Man.  
HE is your humble Servant, and can be  
(Two minutes hence) so to your enemy;  
He's often kissing of your hands, as if  
He meant to play the complimental thief,  
And bite your Rings off; nor doth only show  
An homage to your Hand, but to your Toe;  
Therefore by Supervisors, much suspected,  
To be a man that's popishly affected:  
A non Conformist, one that hath denied all  
Deity Worship, to make Man his Idol;  
He often craves your pardon, and will be  
In fault, that you may practise clemency:  
He tempts your faith with promises, and vows  
Y'are such a man, his Conversation knows  
No parallel, than doth he reckon all  
The minor Virtues, to the Cardinal,  
And calls them yours, thanking th' auspicious Star  
Made your affections first familiar:  
If (in this studied eulogy) by chance,  
The wild uncalculated Fancy glance  
On some thing that doth tickle your opinion  
With self-conceit, & make you your own Minion:  
Ye are caught unknown to him, and cannot be  
Guiltless yourself of the Conspiracy:  
Therefore in wiser men, much doubt it raises  
Wh●n the Applause flows from a flatterers praises:  
Like that Philosopher who fell in passion  
To hear that Bad men, gave him Commendation,  
Wondering what Evil he had lately done  
That might provoke their Approbation:  
His Polite words, like over-sweet Perfumes  
Delight the nose-thrill, but the Brain consumes;  
Or ill compounded Viands, whose rich taste  
Seduce the sense unto a healthless wast:  
But to a man that hath the quaint resistance  
Of keeping his gay Courtship at a Distance,  
That knows his practic Cringe, his studied Phrase,  
The starched Beard, with the smile-varnished Face:  
He hath as little hopes to work upon  
As on a Saint, the Turkish Koran:  
Plays, and a Dancing school, have made him fit  
To be esteemed (by his own Tribe) a wit,  
And from the female sort his smooth words can,  
Gain the applause of pretty Gentleman:  
Civil, well spoken, that neglects the Road  
Of common Garb, and does it awl mode:  
A critic in the fashion, and hath speeches  
In praise of Ribbon points about the breeches:  
Extolling these grave Times, that have begun  
So punctual a Reformation.  
The serving Creatures are his Apes, and know  
His Nod, his Smile, his Simper, and his Bow:  
The Vintners are corrupted with 't, and vent  
Their vilest wine with deep-fetched compliment,  
Calling their fairest rooms, furnished in fashion,  
By the quaint terms of Good Accommodation  
And such words squirted through the teeth, as when,  
They taste your wine, like learned Cellar men:  
Your plush-tongued Mercer (to) it doth infect,  
Who learns to Cozen you with Great respect;  
And sell his words i'th' bargain: but you must  
By your Belief, teach him the way to trust.  
We draw so much our Neighbouring Air of France,  
That compliment (like an Inheritance:  
Is Native) like Diseases of succession,  
And sticks, as close as Primitive Transgression;  
What vanity it is i'th' open Street,  
Meeting your friend, to dance about his feet,  
And he 'bout yours, as if you meant to show,  
The people tricks, whether they will or no,  
Or protest Friendship to the man you Hate,  
And Promise what you vow to Violate:  
Happy those Times that could such Men afford  
Whose greatest Obligation, was a Word;  
Whose if I can I will was of more power,  
And vallid, than the Oaths of a whole Hour,  
Vented in this Age; when but Clapping Hands  
Where Seals, and Signets, Bonds, & Counterbonds;  
For nothing more hath caused this kingdom's smart,  
Than such division twixt the Tongue and Heart.   

A rustic.  
IS a rude Son of Adam, who intends  
To wear his father's Curse at's Fingers ends:  
His Cattle are so much his Consultation,  
They make him of a Beastly Conversation:  
But his transport of Corn, expresses plain,  
'Tis he the Proverb terms A Knave in Grain:  
He is all Mortal, and we justly say,  
His Composition is but grass and Hay:  
Virgil he knows not, yet hath skill concerning  
Some practic parcels of Georgick Learning:  
He may arrive at Heaven, for each Day  
His progress lies thorough some thorny way:  
And should be stout, for though his Roof afford  
No Gun, it is defended by the Sword  
Of glorious Bacon, which in rust hangs by,  
To hew the hunger of Posterity:  
These Modern times molest him, since mad Blades  
Have taught him Billets, Quarters. and Brigades  
O Horse, and Foot; which (for aught he can find)  
Are but new Words, made to destroy mankind:  
He loves no Fighting, yet sometimes a large  
Party of Horse will put him to the Charge;  
But than he brags, though he be forced to yield  
His House, he will be Master of the Field:  
He's always doubtful of his Guests, and knows  
No nice distinction twixt his Friends, and Foes:  
Which makes him Mute, and warily to hide  
His grave Opinion, till he know what side  
They fight for, and doth (cunningly) prepare  
For either Party, one set Form of Prayer.  
It is a Problem of most hard Digestion,  
If (suddenly) any propound the Question,  
To have his voluntary quick Consent,  
Whether he be for King or parliament;  
And puts his Clownship in so deep a Trance,  
He knows not what to plead, but Ignorance:  
He would not have the Service Book put down,  
For the two Weather Prayers (the only Crown  
Of his Devotion) which (for aught he knows)  
May be some slender Cause, that his grass grows:  
These cruel Times move him to much remorse,  
Not that they kill the Men, but spoil the Horse,  
Eat up the grass, yet can the sad Assertion  
Procure no Writ of Trover, or Conversion  
Against the Trespassers, whose warlike Words  
Are Statutes, & whose Warrants are their Swords:  
Yet though his Corn, and Cattle, wasted are,  
'T has versed him in the Dialect of War,  
For now he can rehearse to you at large  
A Troop, a March, Battalia, and a Charge,  
Retreat, Relief, a battery, and a Call,  
Then from a Colonel to a Corporal  
Speaks Offices gradatim▪ nay, he knows  
Not only what the words are, but the Blows:  
There's scarce a Woman in his house but she  
Can (naturally) train a Company;  
Though he had rather simply understand  
The downright, thrifty, old Words of Command;  
As Gee, Ho, Ree: and his blind Troopers call  
By the known names of Dun, Sorrell, and Ball:  
But now his hopes are (and I hope so to)  
That he shall plow in Peace again, and go  
In safety to the Market, though he dwell  
Till Monday at the Tap, 'cause Corn sells well:  
And who doth know, but such a time may come  
When the blown bagpipe shall outvie the Drum?  
And the majestic maypole have admission,  
To be erected, without Superstition:  
When Meg, and Margery, with Siss, and Doll,  
Shall be allowed to dance their Bellies full;  
And my rude rustic (whom I do confer  
Honour upon, in this wild Character)  
Shall be a hob nailed Judge amongst the rest;  
And gravely give his Censure who doth best;  
Whilst his grey wife, hath her Ambition full  
Fraught with the style of Mistress Constable,  
At every word, and he erect his Nose  
(In pride) to think how Wealth, and honour, grows  
Upon his Shoulders, whom we'll let alone,  
Till a Sub poena bring him up to Town.   

A seaman.  
IS the world's Water-work, and may be said,  
(Justly) to have a Swimming in his Head;  
With him the Phrase our Country makes so common,  
Is true, that Time and Tide, will stay for no man;  
For which he quits the Shore, his Drink & Drabbing,  
To be confined or coffined in his cabin:  
He knows the Winds, with all their various Courses,  
Nominally, as ploughmen do their Horses;  
But cannot so command them: he is one  
So daily used to Inundation,  
On whose tanned Face so many Waves are hurled,  
That nothing but the Burning of the World,  
Could make him fear the latter Day, though he  
Has but slow Faith, Fire should consume the Sea:  
His steerage at the Helm, makes him appear,  
Not very much unlike a Conjurer:  
And all those Waves, & winds, that act their part,  
About him, Spirits conjured by his Art:  
What is a Thief's Despair, becomes his Hope;  
One's Faith, and tothers' Fear, lies in the Rope:  
The term of Freshman is a great derision  
Unto the Trade, for He, and his Provision  
Are pickled both alike, which (with their peason)  
Renders them Creatures never out of Season:  
Pitch, Tarr, with heart of Oak, are the three chief  
And naval Articles, of his Belief:  
But nothing can beget a greater quarrel  
Than Leaks, or Sparks, too near the powder barrel:  
For though without these Elements he dies,  
They are his strongest, nearest Enemies,  
The Dangers of the Deep rather appear  
A Merriment, than Object of his Fear:  
And when his Piscatory humour flows,  
The mightiest Whales are but his playfellows:  
Sharks are his best Familiars, but (the more  
His grief) his pretty Whiting Mop's on shore:  
Only a good Faith cures him, which makes her  
A votress to her absent Mariner:  
And though the Shore enjoy the sacred Shrines  
Of Bacchus, still he's troubled with the signs  
Of Taurus, Leo, Cancer, Capricorn,  
And some such Constellations, that adorn  
The situation of the zodiac,  
Nay, he's acquainted with the jolly Pack  
Of all the Planets, but 'twill hardly be,  
That Venus should seem sociable at Sea;  
Though it is Native to her; unless he  
Transport light wares to Lisbon Nunnery;  
Or carry cold meat to the Men that draw  
Feminine hunger in Virginia,  
Barbadoes, or Bermudas, where the Lasses  
(Which here in England were but broken Glasses)  
Are cemented for wives, and put i'th' Fashion  
Of Honest women, in a new Plantation:  
His Climbing shows him proud, though the World sees,  
He raises all his Fortunes by Degrees;  
Without much disproportion, we may vie,  
His Sea-trade, with the ploughman's Husbandry;  
A Ship's the Plow, a Rudder is the Tail,  
A Stem the ploughshare, horse's wind & Sail:  
One cuts the waves, the other grass & Thistles:  
The Boatswain & the ploughman, use their Whistles:  
The Ocean doth contain both Hills and Dales;  
High Seas are Mountains, & calm waters Vales:  
In all particulars, they are partakers,  
One furrows Leagues, the other turns up Acres:  
The Rocks are Hedges, and the Fishes be  
More numerous (in multiplicity)  
Than Beasts are on the Shore; Nor doth the Sand  
And Sea, prove less preservative than Land:  
The Husbandman (by Heavens good advice)  
Distributes Grain, the seaman merchandise.  
(At the same rate of Counsel) and 'twere good  
astrology by both were understood;  
When one hath reaped, and t'other Peril past,  
Both dance, about the maypole, and the Mast:  
London's the Barn, where casting off their armours:  
(Just) at the Custom-house, he finds the Farmers;  
And lest the subtle Searchers should deceive him▪  
Till all the Goods are brought a shore, we'll leave 'em.   

A Common soldier.  
IS one that would seem Wise, and understand,  
For Silence is his first word of Command:  
He may be (by his officer's assistance)  
Made mannerly enough to know his distance:  
Six foot, or less; One that hath cause to thank  
His destiny, he lives in a good Rank:  
His Leader should be right, for (sink or swim)  
March, or Retreit, he's bound to follow him:  
He is a man whom Fortune hath bereft  
Of Constancy, for to the Right, or Left,  
He always wheels, and (like her frown or fleir)  
One turn, converts the Van, unto the Rear:  
Two shillings binds both him and his Comrade  
Prentice to this ubiquitary trade  
Of Marshal Mischief; and (what's strange to me)  
When they are taken Prisoners, they are Free:  
With Knapsack on, Match, musket, bandolier,  
Powder, Bullet, and Sword, he doth appear  
Like Mars his Journyman, and (if Death stop  
Not his advance) may prove Fore man o'th' Shop:  
Which is the first File-leader, and from thence,  
(Gradatim) mount to higher Eminence:  
For (once a halberd gained) the very chance  
Of war, yields Honour, by Inheritance:  
They have one Custom, Civil Law abhors,  
Their Enemies, are still Executors:  
Yet (in a sense convertible) complies  
With us, for ours, sometimes, prove Enemies;  
These soldiers are mad Surgeons, and let blood  
Ere the Disease, or Sign, be understood;  
Their Pills are very powerful for (to those  
They give them) one will serve for a whole Dose.  
The same success, sometimes, our Doctors know  
Both use their Art, Cum Privilegio:  
A soldier (of all men) cannot agree  
With Courtiers, what should the Reason be?  
They both love Honour, and, which is the prouder,  
Is disputable, both do deal in powder  
And plasters, to, although the soldier's Glory  
(In faith of Fame) have the best Salvatory:  
Religion is a thing he'll think upon  
At better leisure, when the Wars be done:  
In the mean time, his Conscience can agree  
With bold Belona's red Divinity:  
Whose Basis is the pedestal of ill,  
And grand commandment, that Thou shalt kill,  
Pillage, Imprison, Plunder, and do all  
That is conducible unto the fall  
Of him thou call'st thy foe; Patience, and Peace,  
Are both apocrypha, and do increase  
Plenty, and Pride; therefore resolved they are  
No Law shall be Canonical but War:  
The Foe a desperate Outlaw, whose abuse  
The Sword, musket, and Cannon must reduce  
To the same wild Obedience, and shall use  
Some strange Religion, they are yet to choose:  
This is my soldier's doctrine, and the right  
End of the wrong devise that makes him fight;  
Little supposing that a wheel of State  
Gives such a powerful motion to his Fate:  
And whirls him round, until his giddy sense  
Hath lost the freedom of Intelligence:  
But this is now his trade, and he must on,  
March is the word, and Pay is thought upon:  
His Quarters (to) are good, or else he'll know  
A reason why he may not make them so:  
In brief, A Private soldier is a man  
(If rightly spirited) in whose short Span  
Of Life, the Officer that brings him on  
May read rich Rules of Resolution:  
And not disdain to practise; since the Stuff  
Of Valour, doth not constantly line Buff,  
Nor ride the barbed Barbie, whose fire,  
Is quicker than his burden doth desire:  
A soldier animally fraught with store  
Of mettle, is (though rugged) Gold i'th' Oar;  
So well enured to hardness, he dares yield  
His corpse to the cold herbage of a Field,  
And in the fury of the foulest weather  
There join his musket, and his Rest together.   

A Roaring Boy.  
HE is the kingdom's froth, the wiseman's Wonder,  
The Coward's Gallant, and the Taverns Thunder:  
A thing disguised in Noise, and one that finds  
A great Delight in vying with the winds:  
If Man's Life be a blast, we cannot form  
His to be less outrageous than a storm;  
For at his Midnight Revels, in a Tavern,  
He puffs like Boreas from the Northern Cavern,  
Where Pots and Bacchanalians look next day  
Like men whom last nights Tempest cast away:  
His frequent Jests are Blasphemies, and swears  
Such Oaths, the Hearers wish ●hey had no Ears:  
Hell-fire he fears not, for he knows (before  
He goes) the Devil can but make him Roar:  
He is the Devil's Agent, to persuade  
Our younger fry of Gallants to his Trade:  
Who doth with such mysterious craft deceive 'em:  
That they are forced to Live by't, ere he leave 'em:  
A Bail of Dice (which owe nothing to Chance)  
With cheating Cards, are his Inheritance:  
Then for his women, he hath choice of Faces,  
Learnedly registered, with Common places  
In his black Book (and for a sum) you may  
Win on his gentle Nature, to betray  
Your Liberty unto some One, which he  
Vows, hath but new lost her Virginity;  
Merely drawn into it, by some great Lord,  
Although by twenty names, she's on Record  
In both Bridewells; and every Autumn, fills  
A Ream of Paper, with her doctor's bills:  
So comes forth (like some book that had offended▪  
The world) newly Corrected, and Amended.  
These Creatures Annually do contribute  
To his Necessity, with Buff, Red suit,  
Dutch hat, and Bilbo, that must needs be drawn  
When any of their Honours lie at pawn:  
By which, he gains a liberty to know  
Their Sensual sheets Cum Privilegio:  
And (for a surplusage sometimes) his Fate is,  
To get Morbosus Generosus, Gratis:  
He talks much of great Houses, and 't is true  
He hath lived in them, Give the devil his due:  
The Poultry, Woodstreet, Newgate, and Bridewell,  
A Lordship which he willingly would sell:  
But that it is entailed, and must descend  
To the Heirs female: Nay, 'tis thought, his End  
Will be in some Great Mansion, for the Stews  
May purchase him, Thomas, or bartholmew's:  
It is most fit, Men that have lived as he  
Hath done, should end their days in Charity:  
But he's not come to that yet, now he reigns  
Like Dominus fac, with his Inglorious trains  
Of new fledged Gallantry, who spread the street  
With their pied Plumes, Sophistically sweet  
As the Exchange in termtime, that invites  
The new-dubed Ladies, of our Country Knights:  
He walks in Westminster, where his wise Pate  
Contrives some Criticism on the State,  
Censures the Reformation, and would be  
Content, the People had more Liberty:  
Speaks of Arrears, although he ne'er did wrestle  
A Fall i'th' business, beyond Windsor Castle:  
Yet, for the Fighting Dialect, he talks  
Most of Duellum, where he struts, and stalks,  
Extends his large Man-slaying Arm, and cries,  
They were too cruel, who did first devise,  
This beating Men with Bullets, (so he might  
Complain of them, which taught them first to fight  
For any zeal he bears to't) though the Words  
Of Slaughter, war, Combat, & drawing Swords,  
He'll talk of, like illiterate Men, that throng  
To hear Orations made in the Greek Tongue:  
Thus is the Bubble blown, whom (aptly) we  
May term, the Blister of Humanity;  
The tympany of Nature, the world's wen,  
Man in Monstrosity, from whom all Men  
Should fly as from a Plague, when Death displays  
His Mortal wings in the Canicular Days;  
That, but destroys the corpse, This, kills the Fame,  
Health, Wealth, Life, Soul, the Body, & good Name.   

A Usurer.  
BE it known to all men by these Presents, that  
This great Extortor, was a spurious Brat,  
Sprung from the Spawn of Mammon, now, the Actor  
Of Man's Confusion, Pluto's chiefest Factor,  
Obliged unto him in a thousand scrolls  
To engross the world, and lie leaguer for Souls:  
One blessed with Curses, and such Men do least  
Love him, in whom he hath most Interest:  
His Life is Contradiction, and all  
His thrifty Actions, Paradoxical:  
He's Poor i'th' midst of Plenty, and doth grudge  
Himself enough, because he hath too much:  
Extremely avaricious, yet would die  
With grief, were't not for Prodigality:  
Cruel i'th' Act of Charity, for when  
He parts with Coin, 'tis to undo the Men  
That have it, which (if punctually they pay)  
He curseth them, because they keep their Day;  
And well he may, for it proves fatal to him▪  
His very Guardian Angels do undo him:  
Money was only made for Use, yet we  
In him, find Use the greatest Injury:  
Fear of the latter Day keeps him in awe,  
For he fears Justice, though he lives by Law:  
And doth much doubt the fatal Day should come,  
To hinder the receiving of a sum:  
Good Acts and Deeds he loves, if they conduce  
To Gain, sealed, and delivered for his use:  
And is so jealous, that he will not deal  
With his own Father, without Hand and Seal:  
These words in Leases are his luxury,  
To have, to hold, enjoy, and occupy;  
Which by a vain Construction, (Used in Mirth)  
Makes him Incestuous with his Mother Earth:  
He hath a hundred suits, and yet his Back  
Knows but one Garment, greasy, patched, & black  
As his own inside; He is much at strife,  
That Law can grant no Leases for long Life:  
And gratulates the happiness of them,  
That lived i' th' Days of old Methusalem:  
That he hath read i'th' Bible, yet his Faith  
Is more in Statutes, than what Scripture saith;  
And (like a Sectarist) would fain consent,  
To nullify the Last commandment:  
Nor doth he like the Second, it doth hold  
Much against Graven Images, and Gold:  
To a young Heir he's worse than all the Birds  
Of Rapine, that the whole Country affords:  
He sucks the Marrow, and it doth him good,  
To glut his Avarice with human blood  
Of undone Debtors; till they grow so poor,  
They're forced to beg an Alms at their own Door:  
Gallant more spirited, are forced to spread  
Their Wings in other Climes, and fight for Bread;  
Knowing not how their hunger's to refresh  
But with expense of blood, to purchase Flesh:  
His hoarded sums are but so many Stealths,  
Conducing to the Bane of commonwealths;  
The State and People suffer, where such Men  
Ingulf the useful Treasure, so that when  
A State-securing Army should be paid,  
Unequal Rates, unwillingly, are laid  
On weaker Shoulders, which, too oft, have drew in  
A foreign Power, and proved a Nations ruin:  
Him and a Conjurer, Satan doth fool  
Alike, they both are practised in one School:  
The sweet Sin makes his Intellect so dim,  
He thinks he hath the Devil, when he hath Him;  
The Scrivener, and the Broker, are his two  
Assisting Suffragans, that must undo  
The sliding Knots, of such men's Fortunes which  
Contemn the paltry Pride of being Rich:  
Thus doth he waste his ne'r-returning years,  
In daily Stratagems, and Nightly Fears:  
Whilst the poor widow's Tears, & orphan's Cries,  
Like the first bloodshed, do ascend the Skies,  
Till Death's Arrest his greedy corpses assail,  
With such an Action, that admits no Bail:  
But must Eternally in Prison lie,  
Who, all his Life, dealt in Security.   

A Prison.  
A Prison is a Period of the Law,  
A living sepulchre, where Men do draw  
No Air, but what proceeds from sad Complaints▪  
A Purgatory, from the which no Saints,  
But Angels can release them: 'Tis the place,  
Where Wildest Men gain the habitual grace,  
Of being stayed, and though they are bereft  
Of other Chattels, have a House still left  
Admits no Sale, which (by the great resort)  
May properly be styled an inns of Court,  
Where under-graduates that never saw  
The penal Statutes, here, do study Law,  
And prove good counsellors, for they importune  
All Men to Providence by their misfortune:  
It is the Rendezvouz of rags, a Place  
So sterile, men are seldom in good Case:  
They may be Monsters, for unthankful Fate  
Hath taught them all a trick to be in-Grate;  
'Tis (not unfitly) called subtlety's school,  
Where they can See day at a little Hole;  
And some come hither only for such ends,  
As may confer a trial on their Friends:  
A House that little Charity imparts,  
For Men do still condemn their own kind hearts:  
They are Vessels in a Calm, but the Fresh Gale  
Of a Release, makes them to hoist up Sail,  
And launch into the Deep, till, now and then,  
Some cross winds force them to their Port again:  
Sergeants are Men of War, and do most slaughter  
Upon the Merchants at an Ebbing Water:  
A Jailor is the boatswain, who still watches  
His barbarous time, to stow Men under Hatches:  
Juries and outlawries are wind and Tide,  
The fatal Upper Deck the Master's side;  
Anchors are Executions; and Extents  
Are the rough Rocks, that many a tall ship rents;  
Intricate Cases are the Tacklings, which  
Perplex the mind; and Creditors the Pitch;  
The Law to be the loadstone doth not grudge;  
Pursers are counsellors, a Pilot Judge;  
Attachments Cables, a long Term prevails  
To be the Mast, Chancery bills the Sails:  
Here, such as have profusely rioted,  
May prevent surfeits, and be Dieted  
With public Charity; which I am sure  
Did never yet beget an Epicure:  
Here, they talk any thing, for still they cry,  
They can but be in Prison; and to die  
(Their Hopes are come to such a low Decrease)  
Daunts not, 'tis but a new word for Release:  
The unhung Chambers, with the numerous Beds,  
(Where open-eyed they lay their careful Heads)  
Look like churchyards, and we may aptly say,  
Is a fit emblem for the latter Day;  
Where, with their naked arms stretched to the Clouds,  
They rise again with neither Shirts, nor Shrouds;  
The Beds are Dust, Worms are the Lice and Fleas,  
The dreadful Summons, are the jailers keys;  
The Bail-dock Purgatory, and Guildhall  
A Judgement-seat, that salves, or ruins all:  
All humours in this vacuum are hurled,  
To make it an Epitome o'th' World.  
'Tis in itself (though poor) a Corporation;  
For the sad commonwealth's men (by gradation)  
Do clime to Offices, and, with equal Quarter,  
Divide their Power, as if the City Charter  
Were made their Fundamental; Here they Marry  
Remove their Lodgings, carry, and miscarry,  
Buy, sell, (nor do they want the world's Exactions)  
Hold Controversies, several Sects, and Factions:  
Lend Money upon Pawns, they fight, and stab,  
Are cured, pay Surgeons, swear, dice, drink, & drab;  
Dance, sing, write Books, in Latin, Spanish, French;  
Study the Laws, in Chanc'ry, upper Bench,  
And Common Pleas; whilst the mechanic Blades,  
Alter, make, mend, according to their Trades;  
Some men have made this place a Counter-charm,  
That may protect them from a greater harm;  
But (in a Word) all men shall find (that try)  
'Tis any thing that tends to Misery.   

A Rash Man.  
IS like a Ship misguided on a Shelf:  
Unnaturally outlawed by Himself;  
He's Reason's Renegado; one with whom  
The word Consider, is too troublesome:  
That doth obey his Passion and Affection;  
Whose Cogitation, is the child of Action;  
He Loves, and Hates, but is too quick in Both,  
Accounting Contemplation, a cold Sloth:  
H● Doth, and then Disputes, he is a Man  
Mild as a Brook, wild as an Ocean:  
Fierce as a Lion, Loving as a Lamb;  
In whom the least proportion (that a Dram  
Contains) of choler, shall beget more spoil,  
Than Flame and Flax (incorporate with oil)  
Makes in a Magazine, that is obliged  
To the Destruction of a Town besieged;  
He's Folly's Fire, and fickle Fortune's frantic,  
Passion's Pet●r, Love's Blast, and anger's antic:  
His Brain is Flint, Heart Steel, his wild Desire  
Is tinder: he that Crosses him, strikes Fire:  
With all his Undertakings he goes on,  
At the same Minute they are thought upon,  
He says, Consideration is a Crime  
Fettered with laziness, it loseth Time;  
And therefore (like a forward Man) will be  
Always before his Opportunity;  
But by that kind of Care, he finds the Fate  
That coming Early only, makes him Late:  
Men of profundity, that dare own wit,  
Know it is two things, to be First, and Fit  
In some employments; He whose sad Condition  
Upon the Scaffold, doth attend Remission;  
May in the Book of his reviving Fate,  
Record in Gold, that Time he stayed so late;  
Then to be First in some such enterprise,  
Is ruin, by the Rule of Contraries:  
So are a Rash mens' Actions, that refuse  
All Counsel, but what Will, and Passion choose:  
He thinks that Temperance, and Patience,  
Are only Words, that want Intelligence:  
And where he sees their pure Effects arise,  
He calls it idleness, and cowardice:  
His Ear is open, as his Hand is quick,  
To any Sycophant, that comes to pick  
Thanks, for some ill-brought News, which (in his Fury)  
He Credits more than ever Judge did Jury:  
Another Mad-man's Challenge hath the power,  
To call him (at a Sacramental hour)  
From the high Altar, when the pious Priest  
Communicates the holy Eucharist:  
With him, no Season is unfit to Fight,  
By Day, or Night; moonshine, or Candle-light;  
Delay (he doubts) in such a Case as this,  
Concludes him Coward, So indeed He is:  
For perfect valour, rightly understood,  
Submits not to the Ebbing or the flood  
Of a hot Gall, but wisely dares advance  
His towering head, invest with Temperance;  
At such a season, when the Deed alone  
Shall be both Act and Vindication;  
And cannot need that Penitence upon it  
The tother has; I would I had not done it,  
Pray pardon me, Let my Repentance wash  
The thought on't from you, I was much too rash;  
I'll make amends; And such tame words as would  
Cause a cold Winter in the flowing blood  
Of a high heart; but 'tis an equal Sentence,  
That sudden Rashness should meet swift Repentance:  
For, commonly, to him he doth outbrave  
This Day, to morrow he becomes a Slave:  
He is a wild, headstrong, unbroken Colt,  
A Wise man's Warning-piece, and the Fools Bolt▪  
The Coward's only terror, nature's Bubble;  
The Mad man's Disputant, the mild man's Trouble;  
The Drunkard's Ape, the virgin's overthrow;  
The Devil's dearest Friend, and his own Foe.  
But, now I think on't, how shall all my Wit  
Secure me, should he read what I have Writ?  
I'll ask his Pardon, and I'll vow withal,  
When I write next to make him Rash-on-all.   

A Corrupt Lawyer.  
IS one that lives by Quarrels, a Beguiler  
Of Peace, yet would be thought a Reconciler;  
One whose best thriving is in troubled Times,  
When the World's worst, & People full of Crimes;  
By his Art, men may fight at any distance;  
Envy and Malice, are his chief Assistants:  
He doth little in God's Name, for he brings  
All Actions that be penal, in the Kings:  
As in his Declaration (Tolle liege)  
You'll find it writ, Qui tam pro Domino Rege:  
Informers are his Clients, whose Possessions,  
Are a large Record of the Laws Transgressions:  
He is a Man of furious Resolution,  
That aims to bring all things to Execution,  
And (by bad Circumstance) it happens so  
That the Defendant and the Plaintiff too  
Were better be at Tyburn, then extend  
Their Purses to expenses, without End:  
For Lawyers (like the Irons that support  
Consuming firebrands) do, with thrifty sport,  
Uphold their Clients, till demurs and Flashes  
Have burned and buried them, in their own Ashes:  
Whose ruin is the hapless Introduction,  
To one man's Wealth, and twenty men's Destruction:  
Not much unlike the butler's Box, which takes  
Small parcels, till it carry both the Stakes:  
Or AEsop's silly warriors, whose fierce Fight,  
Betrayed them to the Rapine of a Kite:  
So shall you see two Streams strongly contemn  
Each other, till one Ocean swallow them.  
Such Irons, Boxes, Kites, and Oceans, are  
Those whom I aim at, in this Character.  
Yet somewhat in him merits Approbation,  
He doth not much incline to Innovation;  
Or any thing which toils the Apprehension,  
With the AEnigma of a new Invention:  
But (very Orthodoxly) is content,  
That all things shall be done by precedent:  
He's one to whom no action comes amiss,  
But what appears in Forma pauperis.  
And those he looks upon with more vexations,  
Then Usurers when they're to pay Taxations;  
Or those rich Jews, when they enforced are  
By the Great Turk, to set forth men of War  
At their own charge▪ No just Cause seems so sweet,  
As what supports itself on Silver feet:  
Religion is a Term he'll think upon,  
I' th' Country, when all other Terms are done.  
For you must note, when first he took Degree,  
That he sued Conscience to an outlawry:  
But I believe, 'twill strike him in some terror,  
At last return; to see Her writs of error:  
When all his subtleties shall be expressed,  
And censured by that Jury in his breast:  
When the Infernal prison shall appear  
A little worse than Hell at Westminster:  
But these are fancies, that can raise no Passion  
In Men uncapable of Contemplation:  
Why should his Rumination be hurled  
At the vain Fictions of another World?  
Is there a Court which can return Denials,  
To Him, that hath endured so many Trials,  
Judgements, and Executions, as would make  
The very fabric of a County shake?  
No, no, go on, and let the Country know,  
What 'tis to quarrel, or (what's worse) to go  
To Law; and, most especially, when He  
That is their Advocat's their Enemy:  
Like those destructive aids, which (Undesired)  
Offer Assistance, when a House is fired,  
And, at the sad Conclusion of the same,  
Return a worse Consumption, than the Flame:  
Not that I think the Law is so, but grieve  
I have so great a Reason to believe,  
Did not Law bound us, we should prove the worst  
Nation, that ever the Almighty cursed:  
So self-destructive, and so barbarous,  
That even Heathens, would be Saints, to us:  
Therefore my Heart shall ever yield applause  
(Next unto my Religion) to the Laws.   

A Noble Spirit.  
IS Man in his Sublimity, whom Fate  
Can not subject unto a sordid state:  
Whom Poverty (with all her needy Train)  
Incites not to the slavery of Gain;  
Whose Freedom is that Magna Charta, which  
Admits no Diminution, though the Rich  
Revenue of both Indies, did conclude  
To buy the purchase; One, whose Nobly rude  
Unpolished Bravery, contains a gem,  
Would dignify the greatest Diadem;  
In whom that Intellectual Essence springs,  
Which glorifies the sovereignty of Kings:  
Whose radiant Reason, hath dispersed all Passion▪  
To give his Actions free Illumination;  
He lends Life unto honour, and his Name  
Fixeth a Title on the Crest of Fame:  
His Looks speak Pride, but could you know the dress,  
He wears within, his mind shows nothing less;  
His Garb (indeed) is stately, and he can  
Sooner kiss Death, than cringe to a Great man,  
Flatter a Prince, or be induced to go  
Against his Conscience, 'cause the World doth so:  
He scorns to strike his topsail to the vain  
Pride of that Man, who will not veil again:  
Though blood, Riches, and Dignity accord,  
To grace him with the title of a Lord:  
And nothing more provokes his discontent,  
Then to abridge him a due compliment:  
Therefore he meets all men with due Respect,  
And is more sensible of a Neglect,  
Than some of blows, and doth (alike) despise,  
Dissimulations and Calumnies:  
No man is more the object of his Hate,  
Then He that would his Worth extenuate.  
Nor is there any Man hath power to cause,  
A self-opinion in him, with Applause;  
So justly balanced, that the even Beam,  
Inclines not to admit of an extreme:  
He is a man that lies so truly square,  
Fortune is not his Mistress, nor his Fear:  
The glory of her Glance doth not delight him▪  
Nor can the fury of her Frown affright him:  
As no man is more capable than he,  
In apprehension of an Injury;  
So is it rare to find a disposition,  
Of such propensity unto Remission:  
His Love is fineless, but his fickle Hate,  
A moment's time may amply terminate.  
Although he be most just in the exaction,  
(After a wrong received) of Satisfaction:  
Which is so well contrived, he seems to take  
It more for justice, then for Angers sake:  
His tyranny is exercised upon,  
None but himself, for if a wrong be done,  
By him, unto another, he will ne'er  
Contentedly, forgive the Injurer;  
But with incessant Murmur, and Vexation,  
Deny himself all hope of Expiation:  
He's one shall sooner in a mortal strife  
Expire, than poorly be obliged for Life:  
Not that he would not live, but hates to be  
So much engaged unto his Enemy;  
Curiously fearing, that it should be said,  
He wears a Life, his Fate had forfeited:  
If (in the progress of his days) he find,  
The Nation's favour gratefully inclined,  
By adding Honour to his soul's enjoyment,  
He sets a Lustre upon all employment;  
Whose honourable Actions may exhort  
The growing Gallantry of Camp and Court:  
And after Ages shall record his Story,  
As one that lived and died his country's Glory.   

A mountebank.  
IS a Stage higher than a Quack, a Thing  
Nursed by Corruption, to whom the Spring,  
And autumn, prove a Harvest, He is One  
That is of All, or No Religion:  
His Life is hellish, for he always gains  
His Sustenance upon the people's Pains;  
His Stage is built on Barrel heads, but he  
Is best supported by infirmity;  
His new-built Shop looks like an antic School,  
Where He, his Wife, a Madman, and a Fool,  
Epitomise the world; which is the Cause,  
His vain Spectators give him such Applause:  
His Origin of living did consist,  
Much on the Charcoal of an alchemist:  
Then served a doctor, till his skill did crawl,  
Up to the judgement of a Urinal:  
After he practised, but his Art did lie,  
Most commonly, hid piss-prophesy:  
Which happened as infellible as Fate,  
Assisted by a good Confederate.  
The Midwives, and the Nurses of the Town,  
Were his Decoys, and shared, till all was known;  
Then he removed himself, and did repair,  
(For health) unto some more infectious Air;  
For he is one of such a gross Extraction,  
That nothing keeps him Sound, but putrefaction:  
There his Experiments begins on Rats,  
Practiseth poisons upon Dogs and Cats;  
(They are his Patients) Knowledge must be won,  
Though it depend upon Destruction:  
Then his large bills, in Text advanced high,  
(For an obstruction to all Passers by)  
He plants in public Places: where he pleases,  
To undertake the Cure of All Diseases:  
When all that judgement values not a straw,  
But what lies in Lues Venerea:  
Or some such Paris-practice, which implores,  
The vile assistance of unwholesome Whores:  
And all the worth, his vacant Skull affords,  
Is but a studied Catalogue of Words.  
Virulent Stranguries, intestine tumors,  
Hypochondriacus, Malignant Humours;  
Sordid and sanious ulcers, Phlegmon, Fluxions,  
Hepatic inflammations, and Obstructions:  
Hydropic Swellings, Fractions, Dislocations,  
Gangrena, Gangleon, with all Vexations.  
And then a more than mortal Patience tames,  
With the impertinence of author's Names:  
And divine AEsculapius, Cornelius,  
Undoubted Dioscorides, Farnelius;  
Empedocles, Galen, Hipocrates,  
Wise Theophrastus, and Democrates:  
Albertus Magnus, Great Archigines,  
Besides a hundred more; which he doth please  
To coin himself, of stranger obstruse stuff,  
Lest his weak brain should not be bad enough,  
Who is his Patient; and may justly fear,  
The worst Diseases enter at his Ear.  
Come to his Chamber, and his Library,  
Looks like the Study of some Antiquary:  
Adorned with the sour sight of skeletons,  
Embalmed Limbs, strange Beasts, and pendant Bones;  
With tedious Lectures on them, that would quite  
Destroy the patience of an Anchorite:  
His Folio Books, like some great Conjurers,  
Are madly stained with rubric Characters:  
Of no Intelligence, unless they be,  
The hieroglyphics of his ecstasy:  
Yet these fantastic toys, serve to advance  
His Name, where Money is, and Ignorance:  
When in his Chests, good store of coin is hurled,  
He gains a patent to surround the World.  
With no less Mischief, although masked with Mirth,  
Then Satan, when he compassed the Earth.  
But lest I should by some misconstrued be,  
That I am Lady physics Enemy;  
My just request is, that I may refer,  
Them to the title of My Character;  
My Pen shall never fix a stain upon Her,  
For 'tis an Art, I infinitely honour.   

A Whore.  
THat cradle-cursed Impostor, is a Whore;  
Which Bad men most desire yet most Abhor:  
Prized in the heat of blood, at costly rate;  
A Dish they feed on, surfeit, and then hate:  
Who traffics for Diseases, spends her Youth,  
In luckless Riot, void of Care, and Truth:  
That sells her soul's Inheritance, to win  
An Heritage in death, dear bought with sin:  
If she arrive at Age, her best reward,  
Is poor, old, scorned, and begs without regard:  
She's the unhappiest workmanship of Nature,  
The foulest Fiend, hid in the fairest Creature:  
Damnation cut in crystal, heaps of Flowers,  
Scattered upon a Viper, which devours,  
The gathering hand; A subtle, shining, White  
Path, to the palace of Eternal Night:  
Stars in deep Waters, which when vain men think  
They shall embrace; in the soft ruin, sink.  
A Shrine-like-shewing sepulchre, which owns  
Nought but the primitive dust of putrid bones:  
The Devils fair Decoy, the True-love Cheater,  
Poisoned Perfumes, Suckets that rot the Eater;  
Shipwrecks in calmest weather; bells that have  
But one Tune to the bridebed, and the Grave:  
They are cold Scyth●●n Winters, that appear,  
So full of barrenness, as if the Year,  
Had forfeited the Spring, and would degrade,  
The World of that, for which it first was made:  
Your Stately, Rich, and Lord-beloved Whores,  
Are Treasuries which vild Extortion stores,  
And studious Riot empties; for what they,  
Purloin from One, some Other makes away.  
Philosophers in vain you seek to find,  
Out Local hell, in the vast Air, the wind,  
Or Centre of the Earth; for (sans dispute)  
'Tis in the bofom of a Prostitute:  
Like Hell, they act destruction unto Man,  
No Nation 'scape: the French, the Italian,  
The lofty Spaniard, and the lusty Dutch,  
From him, whose Age depends upon a Crutch,  
To the unbearded Youth, that ne'er put on,  
The long-wished Jubilee of Twenty one;  
Men of all Qualities are thus betrayed,  
They're worse than Tributes in th'Low-Countries paid:  
Exactions upon all sorts of Provision,  
Meat, drink, sleep, clothes, nay even on man's perdition,  
They do (like Vultures) on illlivers gnaw,  
And are those brittle eu'dences of Law;  
(Examined by some overcurious Pate)  
Which forfeit all a wretched man's estate,  
For leaving out one syllable: They be  
Worse than dead bodies from the fatal Tree,  
Begged by chirurgeons, and wrought upon,  
To teach a man (by such dissection)  
Wherein he is imperfect; She is worse,  
Than all Ingredients made into a Curse.  
And (though she merit it) there's nothing more  
Afflicts her, than the hateful Name of Whore:  
Which represents the horror of her shame,  
To profess that, which she's afraid to Name:  
The careless Customs of her cursed offence,  
Expel the thought of Prayer, or Penitence:  
Her tempting eyes are most unhallowed Lamps,  
And, like false coin, which, whosoever first stamps;  
Though the Contriver subtly may leave it,  
Shall bring in Question all men that receive it.  
Such is a Whore, whom Pride, and Lust deforms,  
First rots, than dies a poison, to the Worms.   

A Virtuous Wife.  
IS, to her Husband, all we can call good,  
That hath affinity with Flesh and blood:  
Her Chaster thoughts are so Divinely swayed,  
Although a Mother, she's a married Maid:  
In that her Conversation doth dispense  
Itself no further than safe Innocence  
May wisely warrant, She's an Enchiridion,  
To her kind Consort, filled with true Religion:  
Which is her highest Learning, and the Stone  
Laid to support her Life's foundation:  
Her Passions are so regularly sweet,  
That his Distempers, and her mildness, meet  
Like Flint and Feathers; for she truly knows,  
From vain Resistance, vile disunion grows:  
She's of her Husband's Counsel, though respect  
Instruct her to Advise, more than Direct;  
And of his Privacies so (wisely) wary,  
She may be styled his heart's best Secretary:  
They are so much One, that whatsoever Fate  
Bestows on Him, She doth participate;  
His Sorrow, is her sadness, and his Mirth,  
(Occultly) doth beget a blooming Birth  
Of joys in Her; And, as I have been shown,  
Two Needles touched with one magnetic Stone,  
And fixed upon their centres, though an Ocean;  
Divide them, yet, One touched, gives t'other motion:  
So is it with this loyal Pair of Creatures,  
No Distance makes Antipathy of Natures:  
She is Man's better Genius, and it is  
(Almost) impossible, that any bliss  
Should be a stranger to him, whilst her Care  
Devotee's her humbled Heart, and Knee, in Prayer  
For his Prosperity, whose Hands and Eyes,  
Are Sin and Sorrow's sincere Sacrifice.  
Her temperate Speech is so divinely calm,  
And from her Ruby portals, spring a Balm  
So precious, and invaluably Pure  
That Love makes every kiss become a Cure:  
She's never Jealous, 'cause she doth not know  
By what strange means 'tis planted, or doth Grow:  
Yet (rightly) thinks they cannot be without  
The Guilt of Soul, who deal too much in Doubt;  
And therefore (piously) doth well prevent  
The Plague of both, by being Innocent.  
Her Angel-Issue that about her Knee  
Make her appear (as she is) true Charity;  
Beget a Joy in her transcend Expressings,  
And prove (what they were Meant) the Parents blessings  
At whose Conception she did well agree  
His Name should rather win priority  
Than levity of blood, scorning the shame,  
Which the Act shares, should nullify the Fame  
Of Generation, and that they should be  
Only the Fruits of Geniality:  
Her own Example, is a powerful guiding  
Unto her Servants, that prevents all Chiding▪  
Or such domestic Noise, as makes the Act  
Of Dehortation, worser than the Fact:  
As I have heard an in-harmonious Chime  
Of Words, convert the Counsel, to the Crime:  
There is such Language in her Looks, her Eye  
(Without a Voice) directs a Remedy;  
Which is not so austere, but you may spy  
Love mixed with Power, meekness with Majesty:  
Her Care is in her House, where she confines  
Her Thoughts, as well as Feet, and much inclines  
To Uniformity, for you shall find  
The Order of her household, like her mind;  
●nd so her dress, in which, she doth comply,  
That cheapest fitness, is best Bravery:  
She is the Old man's Crutch, the Poor man's Treasure;  
The Rash man's Remedy, the Young man's Pleasure▪  
The Wise man's jewel, Noble man's Renown;  
The Peasant's Rest, the King's imperial Crown;  
The Sick man's Salvatory, soldier's Fort;  
The Merchant's Providence, the Pilot's Port;  
Which, if he lose, He soon shall understand,  
That his worst shipwreck was upon the Land:  
But if Grim Death, his Lamp of Life shall smother  
He doth but change one Heaven for Another.   
FINIS.