THE SECOND PART OF The Nights Search Discovering The Condition of the various fowls of Night.  
OR, The second great Mystery of Iniquity exactly revealed: With the Projects of these TIMES.  
In a Poem, By HUMPHREY MILL, Author of the Nights Search.  
Nocte patent mendae.  
— Audaxomnia perpeti,  
Gens humana ruit per veti●um nefas.  
Imprimatur. NATH. BRENT.  
LONDON, Printed for Henry Shepheard, and William Ley, and are to be sold at the Bible in Tower-street, and at Paul's chain near doctor's Commons 1646   

To the much Honoured, and thrice Noble Lord, Robert, Earl of Warwick, Baron of Lees, &c.  
Right Honourable;  
HAving presented the first part of my endeavours of this nature to an honourable Peer, and finding his noble acceptance with respect in the world, above the desert of the author, or merit of the work, which with some other encouragements made me bold to tender this second Part, as a freewill offering (in love) to your Lordship: being ambitious that it should bear the name of so truly a noble Patron (honoured of all) who have been and still is such a great pillar to uphold this tottering State, whose gallant, faithful, and successful service, will render you famous to all posterity.  
I confess the humble wing of my Muse lights upon a low-born Subject, yet modestly possessed with fury, in the midst of temptations, keeps her Virgin beauty; although she hath to do with the works of darkness, (ripened with the corruption of these times) yet your Lordship may justly judge it too light for your serious meditations. However I doubt not but it may prevail in the intermission of 〈◊〉 employments, so as to invite a favourable looks from your Honour, which will preserve it from the 〈◊〉 of envy.  
I am not so foolhardy, as to plead the worth of my Muse, whereby to match her to the mits of the time; (nor will she think herself preferred by it, unless they be wisely honest as well as 〈◊〉) but her true intention free from flattery, trimmed in a plain dress, only somewhat of a strange new fashion: yet so, as the fancies may be pleasing to some, the discoveries, useful to others, and the morals profitable to all, who will consider them.  
All which I leave to your lordship's protection, and you, to him that will never leave you, till he hath given you the compliment of all 〈◊〉. So prays he that desires to subscribe himself,  
The humblest of your honour's Servants, Humphrey Mill.   

To the intelligent Reader.  
Gentle Reader:  
I Have provided a second course, which perhaps may please thy palate: those Wilt find company of all sorts, if thou shouldst disdain any of them, take thy mess apart and choose thy comrades, thou mayest have varieties of baits in the way; but if thou likest the Bills of Fare, keep thy stomach for the feasts, something may be Worth thy taste and all thy observation it 〈◊〉 in a right sense; be jealous of thine eyes, and 〈◊〉 not appetite, lest thou surfes with strange dishes: if thou shouldst be taken by the Centineus Scou's, or Guard, or discovered by the Soyes, give good language: read the Letters of advice which may direct thee to thy freedom. This is but a supply to What has been formerly dressed in the Night-search, or rather a running banquet, where thou mayest see how far the sweet of sin can extend itself: if thou art found guilty, look for the Sentence, yet thou mayst be reprieved upon thy good behaviourif thou art free, learn here to keep thyself so. I have dressed my conceits With the fancies of night to make them pleasing, and with moral similes to make them profitable, the lauguage of the times being suitable to the subject; I dare not take the stile of a Poet, for fear this squint-eyed age should suspect my integrity, or common fame blast my endeavours, because of the corruption of many: But finding my pockets empty, in respect the times have let them blood, I begin to swell with conceit, and challenge the name, seeing poverty is taken for their coat, and labour in vain for their crest, the mantle disdain, being blazed by dull ignorance, and sale-fast envy.  
I have somewhat else to follow, than this unthristy science, but as well for my own recreation, as for thy good, I have bent myself to discover this mystery of iniquity, which may be useful to all sorts of persons, young and old, good and bad, it is somewhat against my nature to plead excuse, or crave pardon for What I have writ: to show that I am a freeman, not a slave for any man's humour, I intend no ill, if taken ill by any, let it rest with him; if I purchase thy good word particularly, and a reformation generally, I shall obtain my ends.  

All those that would these lines digest,  
Must read'em over twice at least:  
Observe the points, how sense doth meet,  
The accents, cadence, and the feet.  
The humble ebbs and swelling hopes,  
Of Figures, epithets, and Tropes.   
Good night.   

To the degenerate Nobility, and new found Gentry.  

YOu that are truly Noble, and the best  
Deserving Gentry, who are always blessed  
With honoured virtues: that do ever stand  
For peace and truth, the freedom of the Land;  
I do not aim at you, nor shall my lays  
Sound aught of you, except it be your praise.   

But unto you, who are the ushers in  
Of foul abuses, whose accursed sin  
Draws fools to sale, each from example cry,  
If Gentlemen may do so, why not I?  
Your learning fits you for't, your poisoned wit  
And beastly logic, from the infernal pit  
Prescribe you rules, to find a neater way  
To Pluto's Court: your bloods, bound to convey  
Your lusts on freely, and your means you make  
To bear your charges to the boiling lake.   

A yeoman fool goes slily, with one whore,  
You rush on boldly, carrying half a score:  
Your 'state will bear it, and your noble birth  
Atones the ill, being higher stuff than earth.   

Rich fare provokes you, and you drench your dust  
With costly liquours, which do gender lust.  
Your idleness invites you to receive  
Temptations gratis, never to bereave  
The flesh of pleasures. And your rich attire  
Doth tempt allurements, your express desire  
Not Bungler-like: and your attendants go  
Along with you, can low-born fools do so?  
You dive for new delights and make a trench,  
To bury jurdice, like the baser French,  
Who from their full-mouth pride and arms of steel,  
(Being pockified) to prove themselves gentile;  
Despising chastity, you love such weeds  
That harbour snakes, and praise him that exceeds  
In choicer evils. You perhaps had rise  
From Brokers, jailers, Tapsters, or the dice  
Might help your grand fathers, you might be screwed  
From usury, extortion, or be brewed  
In 〈◊〉 liqaor; or some miser's wheat  
Saved from his mow (till mouldy) made you great:  
You vainly spend what they with curses got,  
Raised quickly with your names, so soon you rot.   

To tax the females here, or draw their shapes  
That keep their dogs, their monkeys, and their apes,  
To make them sport, or those that swell with pride,  
And are too good for all the world beside  
To look upon, Religion is too base  
For flaming furies, is not now the case.   

You should have lived from such corruptions free,  
And proved sweet patterns of humility;  
Preferring goodness, loving purer themes  
To stop the tide of baseness in the streams.  
Do good with your estates, your wit, your art  
Should make you careful, to prevent the smart  
Which follies buy. I doubt what I rehearse,  
Will make you slight my subject, or my verse.  
Yet read the book, and pay for't, if you fret,  
They will not give you trust to run in debt.    

To all Judges, Justices, churchwarden, Constables, &c.  

YOu whom Astrea greets, were you all right,  
I had not been so sharp, nor had this night  
Been twisted into whip-cold: Was it made,  
To help the jailors, or the beadle's trade?  
I am your usher, come, for here's a race  
Able to bring the hangman to disgrace.   

You are to find out sinners, and to give  
Them punishment; that honesty might live  
In Courts of justice; that the world may see;  
How some of widow truth's posterity  
Do walk in gowns; should favour, friends, or lies,  
Or fear, or bribes, blind any of your eyes?  
But ah! they do too much! some of you nurse  
These fly-blown vermin, styled England's curse.  
Convert not sins, nor plagues into a jest,  
Nor yet with mischiefs make yourselves a feast.  
I do but move in Court, I dare not treat  
With upstart Plush. which sin hath made so great.   

To Justices, and Judges, I present  
(And all inferior Officers intent  
Upon the public good) these humble strains,  
As the untutoured issue of my brains,  
Rough with revenge; although conceived at night,  
You may bring forth my black birds to the light,  
And hear chirp. Let sin have no release,  
Which nourisheth our woes, and wounds our peace.    

To the fowls of Night.  

TO you, whose lives are eaten up with lust,  
Your spirits and your names consumed with rust,  
Whose souls are bought and sold, whose bodies will  
Unsheathe your wicked practices, to fill  
The world with wonder; you, by whom Hell best  
Is here, and in her place below expressed:  
To you, who poison earth with your foul deeds,  
And from your breast your torment ever feeds,  
I do present my lines, if taken well,  
They may hedge up your passages to Hell,  
And break your league: If not, your damned cause  
(Which is condemned by my satiric laws)  
Will gender vipers, who will gnaw the sweet,  
And bite your bowels, till their teeth do meet:  
Whence life itself, against your health shall strive;  
You vassals, are not dead, nor yet alive.   

You trim your vice, and will your humours have,  
Although your corpse are dressing for the grave,  
Maintain your sinful freedom, prove 'tis more  
Disgrace in living chaste, than be a whore.  
Death hath his charge, your plots being all revealed,  
Judged by a Statute not to be repealed)  
Expect the execution; then your pet  
Vill no way save you, till you pay the debt;  
o which you were engaged for, with delight,  
〈◊〉 can time bale you; though y'are found by night,  
You cannot 'scape away. Ah! well! I must  
With such vile Rebels leave my Search in trust.    

To his friend Mr. H. Mill, upon his Discoveries of Night.  

KInd Friend, 〈◊〉 made a golden frame,  
For glory of thy lasting name;  
Thou paintest most fair the foulest globe,  
Hellhounds in a most comely robe;  
Virtues luster, for all men's sight,  
Wit and sense do touch aright:  
A stile that is so Indian rich,  
As brave Palace exceeds a ditch,  
Proves he haunted the pious ways,  
Yet shows the ill of all those days,  
To see the Verge, not to enter  
Vices Circle, know the centre.   

To him is given so large a grant,  
Each of the Nine shall be his Aunt;  
Whose Cherub-Muse hath wing alone,  
To fetch that Ore from Helicon:  
Pride of the tongue, from Peru shore,  
The words rich Ingots, subject poor.   

That Poet doth excel in parts,  
When matter smells perfumed by Arts;  
Not he who hath a noble theme,  
Weighs out his phrase with Cicros beam:  
Print, buy this book, all that live well;  
Who this despise, are bound for Hell.   
Edw, Peyton, Knight and Baronet.   

To his ingenious friend Mr. Mill, upon his lofty Discoveries of Night.  

THou hast laid out, to each man's view,  
The Rogue, the cutpurse, and that Crew,  
Who with their damned plots do strive  
To kill, and torture men alive.   

From henceforth no Eclipse shall be,  
Since thou hast made the Welkin free;  
Thy moon in srate shall ever shine:  
For now the night is made divine.   

Light, Luna borrowed of the Sun,  
When infant time was but begun,  
she'll now confess the brightest night,  
From thee received that borrowed light.   

Those that have wit, will gain from hence  
Embroidered reason, high-born sense:  
Fools from thy Search would fain get free:  
But wise men will stand bound to thee.   
Tho. Perrin, Knight.   

To his industrious and quick-sighted friend, Mr. Humphrey Mill, upon his Night-search.  

FRiend Mill, thy rare descriptions I admire,  
More than the Indians, when they 〈◊〉 found fire  
By clashing canes; for you by this your skill  
(Down dropping wonders from your fluent quill)  
Incense the gods, in that you should aspire,  
Prometheus-like, from heaven to fetch this fire:  
The Indians fire, materials did combust,  
But this thy fire doth purge the soul from rust:  
The vicious conscience it so throughly tries,  
And by men's deeds discovers what there lies.   

Should I compare thy light unto the Sun?  
He never could find out what thou hast done:  
Or had he spied it, Pimp-like he'd conceal  
The fact, which honour drives thee to reveal,  
Not spite. Thy hate to mankind is not such,  
But that who good are, thou admitest as much:  
Such creatures then as do thy lines abhor,  
Express themselves but what thou took'st them for:  
Deluding Miscreants, living thus, did urge  
Thy Genius to twist this triple scourge,  
Like Pedlars wares that are sophisticate,  
Hating the light, because the light brings hate:  
The honest need not thou shouldst them reprove,  
For tother's hate 'tis better far than love:  
In this thy conscience thou dost fully clear,  
Spurning their folly which they bought so dear.  
In stately measures, with thy lamp so bright,  
Thou hast displayed the villainies of night.   
Will. Scot Gent.   

To his worthy friend Mr. Mill, upon his excellent Poem of the Night-Birds.  

PAle envy's at a stand, let Momus bark  
His lungs into a palsy; here's a mark,  
Though Pride and Folly shoot, they cannot hit;  
Or charged with choler, or discharged of wit.   

These lines are rich and lofty, smooth and even,  
To fit the noblest subject under Heaven:  
But thou hast chused the blackest, which might be  
Set as a foil to thy brave poetry.  
So full of useful wit, the Birds of night,  
Found, caught, unroosted, darkness brought to light:  
Shames enfignes took, vice conquered, which no man  
Did more than challenge since the world began.   

Where are those canceled wits, that racked their verse  
To varnish guilt, and thatch a rotten hearse?  
Praise madam's curlings? they thy scourge may feel,  
And like the Serpent, nibble at the heel;  
But cannot wound: like Basilisks, whose eyes  
Dart feeble poison. Malice cannot rise  
To vent her venom, as to blast a line  
Drawn by thy pen, thy name, or aught of thine.   

What needs this troop of worthies offer bays  
To crown thy fame, who art above their praise?  
Which perish not with age, nor canc'ring rust,  
Compoed with fury, and the spiteful dust.  
Till time gives up the ghost, this work shall be  
Praised, pleasing, honoured, to posterity.   
Hen. Limbruke Mr. of art's Cam.   

THE Second Part of the Nights Search, discovering the conditions of the various fowls of Night.  


To fetch their dross, what wiles they use,  
The pedlar's boy, the State abuse,  
A puff, a murder, one runs mad,  
A seaman took, what loss he had.   
SECT. I.  

NOw glorious Titan hath withdrawn his light,  
Whose presence makes a day, his absence night:  
He traced the sky, and like a Champion bold  
Road in his chariot all in cloth of gold:  
Is now grown blear-eyed; or, for want of sleep,  
He drives his Steeds into the Western deep,  
To take a nap: bright Vespers train, whose hue  
Enriched the skies, the ground enameled blue.   

Then Luna shines, whose patent was by birth,  
At several times to overlook the earth;  
Yet change with age: as soon as they begun,  
(For all they had their ticket from the Sun)  
To pass and view the world, yet envious night  
Cast out a fog, being swelled with raging spite,  
Charged them for Spies; sh''ve had them all arraigned,  
But could not bring'em down. When men complained  
Of tyranny, she kept her silent den,  
Where bodies live without the souls of men:  
And virtue's out of use, unheard of sins  
I shall unmask: for now my Search begins.  
Who to your view I shall present, your mind  
Will apprehend, their sight is worse than blind.  
Where all things are converted into crimes  
To let us blood, and to undo the times.   

First, here's a piece of earth, that seeks a place  
T'unman himself, save only in his face;  
A tender-hearted Bawd, that ne'er made whore,  
But ever used such as were broke before;  
(Her conscience give her licence) meets this beast,  
Who had him home: and she at his request  
Must send for one whom he esteemed most dear,  
Her husband's jealous, and she sins in fear:  
He found one in her bed, and with the shears  
Cut off his nose, a warning for his ears.  
The messenger must make some neat excuse,  
To take a room, but 'tis not for his use:  
Or borrow something, pull her by the coat,  
Or wink, or nod, or give a private note,  
Or whisper in her ear, or touch her foot,  
Or else some secret sign; being willing to't,  
She goes with speed, or else some pedlar's mad  
Pimp Maximus, being master of his trade,  
He'll sell her pins, or lace, or dainty lawn,  
Fine noon, gloves, or any thing; and pawn  
His soul to use her kindly, so he'll find  
His time to speak, and know each others' mind.  
She comes, he has his fee, and who'd mistrust  
Such bugs should gender in a pedlars dust?   

Then came a rumbling coach, which made the ground  
Fall in an Ague: looking in I found  
A feathered blade, his jacket was of plush,  
A curious lass, who with a crimson blush  
Be wraied herself; her eyes were full and grey,  
With ruddy lips, round cheeks, her forehead lay  
Arched like a snowy bank, which did uphold 
Perfect Beauty   
Her native tresses, which did shine like gold.  
Her azure veins, which with a well shaped nose,  
Her whiter neck, broad shoulders to compose  
A slender wast, a body straight and tall,  
With swan-like breasts, long hands, with fingers small,  
Her ivory knees, her legs were neat and clean,  
A swelling calf, with ankles round and lean,  
Her insteps thin, short heels, with even toes,  
A sole so straight, proportioned feet, she goes  
With modest grace: I judge her (viewing well)  
Too good to go on foot, or ride to hell.  
With civil habit, if you had her seen,  
You'd say sh'were lovely, aged seventeen.   

This knave is called Commander, who did use  
To plunder men: those whom he did abuse  
He'd call Malignants, he did serve the State  
(Not as a thief) this varlet was of late 
Abuse of State   
A pedlar's boy, and still a cobbler's son:  
When Countries by this vermin were undone  
They made him known, by which they gained relief,  
He was no soldier, but a sharking thief.   

A while about the city he doth pass  
For Major Dangerfield; this comely lass  
Was like to beinsnared; great means, rich friends,  
But he had no thing save the cobbler's ends.  
He'll says debenture will be shortly signed, 
The vapourer.   
Had he's arrears (he would not be confined  
To private lodgings) paid him by the State,  
He'd drink and whore it, at a higher rate.  
And to his Mistress he'd be free and true,  
Though he had nothing but an halter due.   

This hackney coachman, pimped in former times  
For broken courtiers: he concealed their crimes,  
And cared their trash, though sinning on the score,  
Pay him but well, he'd bring'em down a whore  
At any time, whose bloody sins do crave 
The Courtier   
For plagues on earth, or an untimely grave.   

But searching on, I heard a glittering spark  
Tearing the ground with oaths; as I did mark,  
He met a civil man, and fell to strife;  
This lawless ape would take away his wife;  
But he the better man, soon laid his bones  
Into the sink, his shoulders felt the stones:  
Till dammie boys came by him; then he rose,  
To break the windows, and he cut a nose  
Which cost him eighteen pence; this daring rout  
Will sleep by night, till Bailies find'em out.   

I heard great moaning as I went along,  
'Twas one whose sense a basalisks had stung,  
With looking on him; now she'll not be seen  
Till all be turned to dross, or else in spleen  
She'll melt away his wit: because distaste  
Had disengaged her sin, her fancies wast  
And made salt humours rise, the man grows mad  
With fiery lust, the reason that he had  
Is under hatches, rage and sorrow pressed,  
To share affections with that venom beast:   

And standing still, I heard a gentle cry,  
I turned, and saw a tender infant lie 
A murder.   
Breathing its last; the new received life  
Was let out by the barbarous mother's knife,  
Who wrung its neck, and threw it in a sink,  
The whiter skin made blacker than my ink,  
By this vile scum of filth; but now she's tried,  
And ground enough, above the ground she died.   

Her Epitaph.  
Death, hadst thou done this office at the first,  
Or if thou hadst but done't a year ago,  
She had not been so openly accursed,  
Nor had my Muse (with fury) turned her foe.  
The infant had not been, nor had my verse,  
Been for a Tyburn grave, but for her hearse.   

Two pinks did spread their sails, and cast about,  
They in a harbour found a seaman out;  
Who strived by skill, which first shall take the prize,  
Till one of them did scratch the others eyes.  
He's my free prize, I'll do the best I can,  
Thou art for fraught, but I am for the man;  
The times are envious, men by sea, and land,  
Are cast and cut away, on every hand.  
I lose my custom, 〈◊〉 a witty theft,  
To make some sure, while there are any left;  
I cannot live without'em, art not mine?  
Then with a kiss and a bewitching twine  
She stole his lungs, and preyed upon his heart,  
The next his mesel liver feels the dart.   

Like to the little fish which in the seas 
moral   
Do suck the 〈◊〉, their watery humours please,  
Amongst the cutled waves; they frisk and seek  
For 〈◊〉 delights; at last into some Creek  
The saker streams convey them, where the tide  
Forsakes them unawares, when they are spied,  
Or from the shore, or from their muddy holes  
They're took, embowelled, cast upon the coals;  
Or in the pan, like traitors half alive,  
Die by degrees: for 'tis in vain to strive,  
With death's 〈◊〉. So, these vassals play  
In waves of lusts, till wrath drives them away  
Into a straight, where miseries are vast,  
(Not like delights which perish in the taste)  
And constant dwellers, there they must remain,  
Till they are plucked away, like Traitors shine  
And cast into the flames: but still their name  
Shall stink on earth, as monuments of shame.   

The devil likes grand Signors golden vice,  
Finding a man inclined to avarice,  
Filled with disdain: whose cruelties beside  
Make him a Tyrant to maintain his pride.  
He doth prefer him to'a lofty place,  
As full of envy, as he is free from grace.  
He peels the great ones, and undoes the poor  
To fill his cough rs when his golden store  
Is at the height, the Turk doth cast his eye,  
To spy a fault, he is condemed to die  
By word of mouth; to squeeze his vast estate  
Into his treasury, at such a rate  
My foundlings live, who are inclined to lust,  
The devil sets them in a place of trust;  
Who suck the poisoned sweet, until they burst,  
They'll feel that then they ne'er believed at first.   

To undergo their tortures could they hire,  
Or like to Salamanders, live in fire,  
Or lose their senses in the flaming fume,  
Or might their lasting souls in fire consume,  
I would decline my task, and spare my brains,  
And let them take their pleasures for their gains.   

But bodies, souls, and sins in flames must fry,  
Last by consuming spirits never die.    

SECT. II.  

The sentinels, the drunkard's note,  
One cuts his hat and burns his coat:  
Two devils would de file abride,  
And two to lust by coin are tied:  
Exchange of Pimps, a harlot shent,  
A fool's conceit, the whore's intent,  
A counter-greeting of the store,  
How to his friend, one lends his whore.   

THe world now hung with black, my charge begun;  
The Western Seas had swallowed down the sun:  
But heaven's tapers than began to light,  
Which did by turns attend the Queen of night;  
The sky was all enameled (in my view)  
With glittering Diamonds, all the panes were blue.   

But straight the clouds those riches did disgrace;  
For every heavenly torch did hide his face.  
The sable storms arose, proud winds grew high,  
Which blew my candle out: Alas, said I,  
My task is heavy! here's a hard beginning!  
Must I return, and leave the harlots sinning?  
My Muse will never brook it; all the best  
Are locked with th'leaden keys to quiet rest,  
Their mantles darkness; all their brains do steep  
In watery humours, being rocked asleep  
With rough-breathed lullabies. I held my tongue,  
But hoped the best: such tempests are not long.   

Some thriving Bawd, that's newly turned a witch,  
Or else her father Daemon (think you which)  
Hath raised this blast from Hell, congealed with spite,  
To stop my course, and spoil my search to night:  
Or else some Calve-skin Pander, for a spell,  
To keep the door, hath sold himself to Hell:  
And this the breath of triumph. But I must  
Go now in haste, to overlook my trust.   

I from the Centre went, to see how far  
My charge extended; then a twinekling star  
Broke prison through the clouds: the backer door  
Was open set, and out came divers more:  
The lower gates were opened for the Queen,  
Where in their offices the Sparks were seen.  
The lesser lights of Heaven stirred my fire:  
Oh! heaven-born patience! thee I must admire)  
Which warmed my breast. Now, now my care begins,   

I spy an Army clad with several sins:  
But they disperse themselves, the Front for fear  
Turns back in haste, to fall behind the rear:  
The Files observe no distance, and the Ranks  
Are out of order, firing in the Flanks,  
Will end their service: for the Wings are fled,  
Or changed to Scouts. See, who goes there in red?   

A scarlet Drunkard? Strength hath made him weak,  
He reeling rails about, yet cannot speak.  
His brains are like his guts, you need not fear  
His wit; for he has none, but garbage there:  
Though he be three parts drowned; yet this I know.  
H'as a fire that is unquenched, he's burnt below.  
He has been feasted by a man of note,  
Who burned his hat for joy, and shot his coat,  
To make him welcome. Tom o' Bedlams grace!  
They drank the hogshead out, to take his place.   

Then by and by appeared before mine eyes,  
Two earthborn devils of the largest size, 
2 devils   
Shaped just like men, and covered o'er with skin,  
They broke a door quite down; and rushing in  
Upon a bridegroom, with his faithful Bride,  
(Who lying like a Turtle by his side)  
Would fain have ravished her; for they did think  
'T've been a Cell, through which there was a fink,  
Which older Devils made, first to convey  
Their ordure into hell a nearer way.  
From hence they go unfurnished of a whore,  
Crying, Confound us, we mistook the door.   

Then Next to them c●me ruffling on, whose hair  
Hung down almoft a yard, being rich and fair  
In his apparel; he was kept so high,  
And pampered like a Bore within a sty:  
His pockets full, which made him much rejoice,  
His sputs were off, because they had a voice.  
I followed on, to understand his bent, 
A Lecher freed   
A chamber door being open, in he went;  
Where was a powdered Ape, as full of lust,  
As Spiders are of poison, graves of dust.  
They intermixed their sins, to purchase shame,  
He had his golden fee, than out he came.   

I met another of a lower breed,  
He's like a common Bull; his wife agreed,  
To let him out for half a crown a week,  
Who undertakes he shall not be to seek,  
When any quean is salt, and cannot have  
A Cur, to give her what her lust will crave:  
The Bawd that entertains 'em, for her pains,  
From the insatiate whore hath double gains;  
Or coupling in the corners of the street,  
She saves a fee; so Dogs and Bitches meet.   

I went on still, and spied two Blades together,  
One was in freeze, the other clad in Leather:  
The first was bred in Wales; the other, he 
A poor scholar   
Came newly from the university:  
His words are not his own; yet, full of Art,  
As in pra●senti is his own by heart.  
They're bare and penniless: and this was it  
Had made them Poets, had they had but wit.  
They'd take a whore up gratis. Freeze was vexed;  
Pimp thou for me, said Leather, I'll pimp next.   

But coming by a Hall, I saw the wine  
Pass to and fro in bowls, and for a sign  
They had a whore to hang, one brought her in  
(Which was a Gull) to tempt the rest to sin:  
She fawned upon 'em, she muft clip and kiss;  
One wiser than the rest perceiving this,  
Reprives her to the Bar, where she must bide  
To kiss the cup; and there her case is tried.  
She speaks her name in Welsh; had they not grace,  
She would bewitch them with her smiling face.  
The Pimp that brought her in will make no stay,  
Can he be merry while his Punck's away?  
When this was past, I forward went, and found  
A prating mushroom, which would fain be crowned  
For witty deep conceits; and now and then  
He has applause amongst the worst of men.  
He speaks by patterns, being very nice;  
And idleness in men, he'll prove no vice.  
He makes his wife his slave, which God did make  
To be his fellow-helper, he will take  
Advantage to abuse her, she must do  
His servile drudgery, yet cannot woo  
From him a loving word, nor gentle look;  
I reckoned him with men, but I mistook;  
They eat and lie apart, and still will he  
Maintain she's only for necessity.  
He leave this busy prattler (never gripe)  
For like a meddler he is rotten ripe.   

Then I descried, a harlot caught a man  
To view her in the light: now if he can  
Let him avoid the snare, the Pimp brings up  
His pots half full, that's common; let'em sup. 
A harlot.   
I cannot ftay to watch'em, but a Saint  
Was on the sign without, in curious paint.  
I parted, saying thus, heaven sees your sin,  
A Saint without, but devils are within:   

I heard a noise a Trull was counter-laid,  
Her fees for her enlargement must be paid,  
By that old city-whore: and now they meet,  
She asks her money in the open street;  
The other moved with spleenbegan to roar  
And in revenge she cried a whore, a whore.  
Thus crying out, she ran away apace,  
The old one's bolted in the young one's place.   

But then my cares were with a voice oppressed,  
The which to me was stranger than the rest:  
And yet he did but whisper this, outright,  
Pray lend my master but your wench to night;  
(For his is out of town) and he will be 
A borrowed whore.   
Engaged t'your worfhip for the courtesy:  
He'll send is own Sedan. Then he replied,  
He is my friend, he must not be denied.   

I see my walk at length, I hope my brain  
May find more ease, as I return again;  
The Sun ne'er saw such things, the palefaced moon  
Shrinks back with shame, my night is come too soon.  
Darkness itself is vailed with a mask,  
To hide her blush, I've undertook a task  
Which none alive will second, that my Muse  
Sings out such themes, which other do refuse;  
The earth bears all, what springs from hell grows high,  
Th'air will not be infected, why should I?  
My soul abhors those things, of which I write,  
My Muse and I, are both confined to night.  
My search is but begun, I cannot ftay,  
My walking back shall be another way.    

SECT. II.  

A sharking thief, how knaves do spend  
Their Master's goods, and of the end  
That Strumpets have, the lechers gold,  
One loved young flesh and starved being old.  
One welcomes three, the dance is round,  
The laundress plea, a Charter found.  
The drunkard's moans, the Fiends do rise,  
He falls despairing so he dies.   

BY this, the middle Region was refined  
The fire-faced travellers did in their kind  
Post through the azure globe: but from above  
The distance great, I could not see'em move.  
The metamorphised nymph, did sometimes hide  
Her face with cypress like a maiden Bride:  
But suddenly the saucy clouds would rush  
Most rudely by them, with a modest blush  
She'd overlook the world. Muse do not thou  
Sing comic strains, thou've tragic fancies now  
To try thy Genius: yonder comes a thief, 
A thief   
Who seeks at doors and windows for relief;  
If he can snap a prey, that would redeem  
His loss amongst his drabs, he would esteem  
Himself a happy bruit: and it would be  
A coverlet, and present remedy  
For drunkenness, and lost; he's very bare,  
The spending of his money bought his care.  
He cannot speed as yet, oh, this a spite!  
His wife and children have not supped to night;  
They wait his coming home, had he but sped  
With any thing that would but purchase bread,  
'Twould serve for once: but home he must not go  
Till he hath touched, his shadow tells him so.   

A little further-there a rout I spied,  
Feasting and kissing; where they did divide  
Their Master's goods by retail, every jade  
Must have her share, than she will freely trade;  
They sparing not for cost, provide such cheer,  
Their Masters would be glad of once a year:  
They drink their Mistress health, and then they woo,  
They'll pay, and so away, yet tarry too,  
To drink another pottle we'll allow,  
We meet but seldom, let's be merry now.  
With many times adieu, at last they part,  
Each one with corner kisses leaves his heart.   

Then meet I with a Trub, most shameless, vild,  
Sh'was of the old translation, big with child,  
And wants a father for't: now, if she can,  
She does intend to shame a guiltless man.  
Her friends had cast her off: she hopes to find  
(Though they are harsh) their nearest neighbour kind:  
He being honest, scorns to bribe this whore,  
she'll after wait to leave it at his door.   

When this was past, a fierce enammelled quean  
Came raging with her Whiskin, who did mean  
To trade in mischief; they a match did make,  
To endure Hell for one another's fake:  
They newly came from prison, bailed from thence  
By Mutton-mongers, who for recompense  
Crave but her love: and now they may abuse  
Their neighbours freely; neither can they choose,  
Because it fits their tempers. Oh, abhor it!  
They think in time to get a Patent for it.  
A Justice with his Letter makes a way:  
When that is done, it will increase their joy.   

The next a sordid lecher, very old,  
Tempting a modest beauty with his gold:  
Though sin had sucked him dry, yet his desire  
Did mock his lost into a foolish fire. 
A denial   
In his conceit, if he his will could have,  
'Twould make him young, and keep him from his grave.  
But she being wisely honest, would not fawn  
On him, nor's gold, to lay her soul to pawn.   

Ere this was past, I heard a woman cry,  
Being weak with age; Ah, woe is me! must I  
Be fain to beg my bread? I married thee  
Being young, for pity, that thy misery  
Might be removed, thee succoured, being poor,  
My wealth I made thine own; and thou this store  
Hast vainly spent, thou slightest me in my need,  
Now I am punished 'cause I did thee feed.   

Another yet? a door being open made,  
Two men together lying by a jade,  
'Twas monstrous to behold, they would away,  
She passed all shame, desired them to stay,  
I thought they had been brothers, made a stand,  
To see a third man seize upon their land:  
And at his entrance if he'll give a fee 
Three to one   
He may beone, for she had room for three:  
Help her but in a case, conceal the crime,  
She'll pleasure him at any other time.   

Just as I stepped away, I looked about,  
I saw a place, from whence came dancing out  
A troup of Gallants, other while they stayed,  
Sometimes the fiddler sung, sometimes he played.  
The spark that led the dance, was all in black,  
He cut his capers till the strings did crack.  
And then he stunk apace, they feared no weather,  
What need they fear seeing they were drunk together?   

The dances being past, it was my fate  
To see a Landresfs, who had been so late  
To fetch her Master's linen, all was hushed,  
She went in pale, but coming out she blushed.  
But making her defence thus (Quick enowgh)  
I by misfortune, did forget a ruff, 
A laundress   
Which I must starch, before I close mine eyes,  
And bring it home, before he'll please to rise.  
I do no ill, mistrust me not, I pray;  
I come so late, 'cause he's from home all day,   

But after this, I heard (without a cause)  
A Pimping cheater rail against the laws;  
He had for's villainy been lately whipped,  
Warmed in the hand, than shoulder marked and snipt:  
O cruel times! hard bound! and thus he sits,  
This is an Age, we cannot use our wits.  
I pimp, I shark, and steal, (do I amiss?)  
Yet cannot be allowed, to live by this;  
A Senior thus replied, dost thou begin  
To curse the Law, which shames thee for thy sin?  
Hell gapes for such as thee: then out he flings  
Bis pueri senes, is the note he sings.   

My Muse with sad conceits begins to scan  
The sentinels, where first my Search began:  
I heard such moans as cut my heart like swords,  
Consisting more in groans, and less in words:  
A dying sinner loath to change his life,  
For whom vast hell is with the earth at strife;  
He drunk into a surfeit, he must have  
The hottest wines, there's coldness in the grave;  
Fill me the tother bowl, I like it well,  
They say such liquour's very scarce in hell:  
Alas it will not downe! ah, now must I  
Go down, down, down, where I shall still be dry.  
Then crying towards the shadow of the moon,  
Away ye horrid Fiends! ye come too soon!  
I am not rotten yet, though I am cursed,  
Oh, do not take me, till I've quenched my thirst!  
Earth, wilt thou leave thy friend? and as he cried  
My hope is gone, he of the surfeit died.   

His Epitaph.  
Forbear ye tender hearts, let not your eyes  
Drop pearls in vain: h'was wet too much before:  
He was a sink to what the grave denies,  
Death yeoman of his cellar, keeps the door.  
He drank himself to dust, nor can his skin  
Keep out the worms, which kept the liquour in.   

I see my charge is heavy, what will fall,  
In my precinct, when I shall sum up all?  
I have a strange beginning! who will share 
Complaints   
With me in pains? or undertake my care?  
All kinds of walking spirits I must meet,  
Though they are wrapped in skin: the open street  
Gives all the succour I am like to find,  
To cheer my weary muse, or case my mind.   

Man that was made of all the creatures free,  
The beasts are not such vassals now as he.  
He's borne, he lives, and dies, yet never knows  
His errand to the world: nor what he owes  
To him that framed him in his mother's womb,  
His soul is out at use, until his tomb  
Closeth upon his flesh: and then hard stones  
With natures leave, are partners with his bones.  
You have but yet a taste, to what I will  
Discover to your view of night-born ill.  
I cannot pass my serious part so brief,  
'Twill ask some time to sifta a bawd: the thief  
Will with the rabble put their answers in,  
And you shall hear, how they will plead for sin,  
With the reply: which turns the poison dart,  
Than all their actions moralised in part;  
Together with the helps I shall apply,  
That they may learn to live before they die.  
Without the practice, how those things I know,  
To clear all doubts, I at the end will show.  
So, now my Muse go search for stranger sins,  
Thy charge is ended, when the day begins    

SECT. IV.  

A Lord, his train, the beastly slaves,  
The midwives faults, the catchfull knaves,  
One bedrid lies, that lost his whore,  
The house of sin, made fit for more,  
A convert found, his sunder elf  
Doth read his lines, and hang herself.  
Of justice Had-bin once, the nurse,  
The spotted dame, Fogs empty purse.   

The vapours that were summoned by the sun  
Into the sire, before the night begun,  
Within the cloudy mantles, swell, till they  
Break prison in the dark, and force away  
To vent their watery humours, to disgrace  
The swarm that buzz about, whose blacker face  
Exceeds black night herself; now forced with fears  
To turn to drops, and then dissolve to tears:  
(Not flattered into pearls) they fall down right,  
Which do lament the whoredom of the night.  
My babes got refuge, where they had relief,  
I sought for ease, which did increase my grief:  
For, in a troubled slumber, I did find  
Strange fearful visions brought unto my mind,  
All tragical, which did my senses take;  
Me thought I saw, as though I had been awake,  
A Lord (so called) his train with worsted Lace  
Daubed very thick; his Pimp found out a place  
To buy another hell, he's guarded in, 
a Lord   
(He having took possession of his sin)  
His Honour is no Knave, his quean no whore.  
He being a Lord, she's but his Paramour:  
His lordship's bare of coin, but those may have  
Protection gratis that bespeak his grave:  
With cap and knee, my Lord, at every word;  
His Pander's his buffoon, which can afford  
To break a jest, to make his Lordship merry;  
He's like to those whom trust did make so weary,  
Till they deceived it. Shortly he'll take pet,  
Because he cannot run no more in debt,  
For cloth, for lace, for beavours, and for silk,  
For capons, herbs, for butcher's meat and milk,  
And other things: my Lord will sail away,  
Must peasants haunt him? let'em seek their pay.   

A Mid wife, and a Keeper, that did use  
To keep all close, belonging to the stews, 
A midwife   
Which had their fees, and would convey the fact  
Into a sink, or else translate the Act.  
Then came a Farmer with his Bearish Cubs,  
Made such a smell and rattling with his tubs,  
That night was much in fear; such noise they made,  
Their language was much fouler than their trade:  
With postures suiting, this polluted trash,  
By filthiness, do here escape the lash.   

What, Bailiffs walk by night? your Guard is strong:  
Do no man right, I pray, but all men wrong 
Bailiffs   
With whom you deal: Come, make the plaintiff pay  
For waiting times; the night exceeds the day.  
If the Defendant come within your power,  
Pray, make him pay an angel for an hour.  
Or you'll degenerate: how's truth abused!  
Such roguing catchpoles should be ever used.   

A weakling taken with a harlot's voice,  
And fawning looks, neglects his former choice,  
To cleave to her, who with her venomed breath,  
Divides his heart alive: but at her death  
This Sot falls sick, his senses do decay,  
And now his filth breaks out another way:  
For he lies bedrid, vexed, and he doth rave,  
All his delights are buried in the grave.   

With that, me thought, I saw, and heard a Bawd,  
The situation, and her house applaud,  
Which stands entire; a fob made under ground,  
To hide her cattle, where a catch turns round,  
To let'em in and out: a sly back door,  
Where any bash full knave, or modest whore,  
May come and go unseen; besides, the leads,  
Where they may hide, if they should search the beds.  
Iron boks to every door, and the stairs made  
So cunningly, that I can drive my trade  
Unknown to all: with wanton pictures trimmed  
My rooms are all, some painted, and some limbed.  
Like to the paler vermin, whose renown  
〈◊〉 to creep up, and nest upon the crown,  
The height of their ambition can no higher,  
They with such bawds must down into the fire.   

A man whose passion had engaged his heart  
To one whose lust had tied to act her part,  
With him: being lawless she her time will spend,  
With what's most precious, so to have her end.   

But he began to have an inward eye,  
And having drawn the streams of pleasures dry,  
The gravel fills his mouth. Thus he complains  
Unto himself, I must expect the pains 
A penitent   
Which follow sinful sweets; which are at strife  
To seal disgrace upon, then take my life.   

Lust steals the name of love: I must abide  
Reproach among my friends, on every fide  
My sores break out, my children's cries breed grief;  
My 'state's consumed, I cannot give relief  
To serve their wants. Diseases which I have,  
Will 〈◊〉 my 〈◊〉 piecemeal to the grave.   

What helps to make me weary of my life,  
The constant barking of a froward wife, 
A froward wife   
Who used to vex me, where she did me find,  
And spread my same, yet could not change my mind.   

But most of all, my soul a bleeding lies,  
Fearing to be released; from him it flies  
That must give help (if any comes at all)  
Or to the burning deep I down must fall;  
Where hypocrites must dwell, who are misled,  
That seek for living fruits among the dead.  
She muses, he so long from her did stay,  
And sends these lines to hasten him away.   

My love, I long to see thy face,  
Oh! come to me! I will embrace  
Thy sweet bosom; let not me 
her Letter.   
For want of thy sweet company  
Lie dipped in tears, is love grown cold?  
Or have those six days made thee old?  
Or has thy peevish brawling wife  
Made thee refrain so sweet a life?  
Be not dismayed! when fortune brings  
Me gold, with other gallant things,  
'Tis all thine own, to come make haste,  
And then the winter will be past.  
With all conditions, I can fit  
To humour thee, and hear thy wit:  
Thy absence makes my heart oppressed  
Which lives in thine, and so I rest,  
Thy friend or not for this world, H. E. From my lodging in Lukeners-lane.   
His Answer.  

Though I was foolish, mad, and vain,  
To sell away my heart,  
To buy a never-dying stain  
And cheapen lasting smart;   

By thy temptations, I was drawn  
To fall in love with sin,  
To lay my soul, my life to pawn 
his Letter.   
To fetch new torments in.   

I now renounce my former deeds,  
And what I loved before  
I hate it; bitter grief exceeds;  
Tears wash them off the score.   

Vain is thy suit, repent and turn,  
Thy former ways amend,  
lest wrath in thee doth ever burn,  
Where cursed pleasures end:  
Thine once, but now his own. From Prince's street.   

Like to an ox, when she these lines had read,  
Which having felt the axe upon his head, 
similes.   
Staggers a while, and gains a little stay;  
Then tugs the roap, but cannot 'scape away.  
Or like the swine whose throat receives the knife,  
He runs about to lose his wearied life:  
She fumes with rage, and stares about for death,  
The knife's mislaid, she cannot get out breath;  
Without some warning: then a rope she got,  
And tied it to a beam, made fast the knot  
And stretched her neck: so thus she ends her life,  
And changes mortal, for immortal strife.   

Her Epitaph as she hangs.  
This lump of clay, the heavens do disdain,  
O're-matcht by hell, died overcharged with sin:  
Hangs in the air whereas the devil's reign,  
Earth brought her out, which scorns to take her in.  
Her soul's confined, within those black precincts,  
Which will not take her carcase, 'cause she stinks.   

Sir Justice Had-been, prompting whores and thieves,  
Turned to the slime of shame: whom he relieves  
Must wear the badge of hell. A poor man's grief  
Being forced to lodge a punk, and keep a thief,  
At his command for nought: broke out so fast,  
That shame did blush to hear't, till at the last  
He told him, had he brought a— in hand  
He had been eased, for justice cannot stand  
With bare complaints. This tribe was lately shent,  
And routed too, pray thank the Parliament.  
Shame steeled with impudence! one brings his nurse  
That's gauged for hell, to twist a double curse,  
And challenge vengeance: 'cause his wife lies in,  
They'll have a chamber writ to charge their sin.  
A spotted fondling which begins to swagger,  
'Cause she's indicted: here the codpiece-dagger,  
Receives it name, Fog, with a fiery face,  
As free from coin, as he is bare of grace;  
(Yet stocked with knavery) would adjourn this curse,  
His words are bribes, because his empty purse  
Stands outlawed, for the fact he did last night,  
Though he appears, that durst not come in sight.   

Some are not ripe enough for death to pluck,  
Nor is their measure full; some others suck 
moral.   
The poison with their sins, until they burst:  
All turning not are at the last accursed.  
Like Toads, or traitors, being malcontents,  
" That from fair daylight hide their foul intents,"  
But spits 'em in the night. Here they do mind  
Their own undoing, in another kind.   

The Panther draws men with his pleasing sent  
Into, or near his den; when his intent  
Is to devoure'em. So the devil draws  
The sinners in, where with his sharper claws  
He tears their flesh. Poor creature, that exceeds  
The second devil in his cursed deeds!  
Who freely loves the sins, but hates the shames  
That follow close, nor will he own those names.   

The devil lives a bachelor, but he  
Is free from acting of adultery,  
As from foul language; he was never drunk,  
Nor did he ere lie bedrid for a Punk.  
he'll ne'er begin, nor pledge thy Master's health,  
he'd rather give, than steal a way men's wealth:  
Whom he arrests, they do not take it well;  
Yet ere he'll hang himself, he'll hang in hell:  
His sins are spiritual; to act such ill,  
He has nor flesh, nor bones; he wants no will.   

Where wolves do prey upon the silly sheep,  
The Shepherd is unweaponed, or asleep.  
When you neglect your souls, than lust destroys,  
And ruins me on in a thousand ways:  
Those that do whip out time, in the event  
Will crosses find, where they expect content.   

He that above doth place his love aright,  
Shall find true joy, in stead of base delight.   

The greatest torment here lies in the breast  
Of him that in his humours seeks for rest,  
With restless motion. After death he must  
Meet flaming hot, the second part of lust.    

SECT. V.  

Imps feasting those that hide their shame,  
What they had, from Whence it came:  
Their figures drawn. A Searchers doubt,  
What ways to find these sinners out,  
And spoil their nests. Hell is revealed;  
Upon What terms the devil sealed.  
The Witch denied. The hateful fry  
Turned to a dreadful anatomy.   

NIght bribes the greedy clouds, whose buckram skin  
Tanned black with envy, draws thick darkness in;  
Flatters the subtle vapours from the earth,  
T'assist the goddess, travelling in birth,  
With various changings of the last edition,  
Which must be covered close: no repetition  
Of her conception, she conceals her breed  
For black designs; pray Officers take heed:  
Moryheus resigns his keys, and she hath pressed  
The world to silence, who must keep a feast  
For men of quality: the jailor's first  
Show kindness to their Brats, when no man durst.   

The Bride well Beadle's next: if any slip, 
The guests.   
They'll twist it soft, and ochre 〈◊〉 the Whip,  
To make a sign for show, but save their skin:  
They're welcome here; then Marshals men come in;  
For passing by the doors they are invited:  
The common watchmen, when they are benighted,  
Conduct them to their lodgings, and will hide  
Faults, persons, places; if they be espied,  
The Beadle winks at all: and they must be  
Their middle guests to this society.   

Two Supervisors, Justice— his clerk  
Came blundring, found it, though it was so dark:  
To do them service he will be their page.  
The others oversee them, and the cage  
Diverted from a bugbear, they pass by,  
With careless looks, and a disdainful eye.   

At last the hangman came, (being very late)  
And proved himself an Officer of State;  
'cause he can help'em to a falling band  
That is in fashion, turn them of his hand  
With gentleness, he's entertained in love,  
He sits below, that used to ride above.   

The place where they did feast, I'm loath to name;  
Seeing I disclose, and they conceal their shame, 
The place.   
〈◊〉 note, 〈◊〉 was near Long-Acre, in a place,  
In which Hells featfull She shall reap disgrace:  
If with her Imps she haunt it in the day,  
Where Sodom and 〈◊〉 (as they say)  
Receive a second being, where in fell  
The tragic part, the second Scene of Hell.   

Now all the guests are come, and for their fare,  
Those that are friends to darkness, do prepare  
Their dishes several: for the love they found  
From them at 〈◊〉 times, their cheer shall now abound,   

The Bill of Fare.  
A Letter pard'ning sweet offence,  
With half a thousand peter-pences,  
As tickets from Queen's street,   

A courtlike dish of divers things,  
Larks, Puets, Teile, 〈◊〉 German brings  
From a child of the kitchen,   

A Lady known to divers peers,  
I dare not name her for mine cares,  
Sent a Venison pastry.   

Black Jenkin brought from turntail Megs,  
Two Pheasants roasted full of eggs,  
With a charger of sweet meats.   

A mutton-pasty full of plums,  
A roasted pig, with sauce, which comes  
From the old cherry-garden.   

A Leg of Mutton, and a Hen,  
Well dressed, for half a dozen men;  
From Parker's Lane.   

Two necks of Mutton, neatly boiled,  
The meat was good, the broth was spoiled,  
From the Cole-yard.   

A loin of Mutton of the best,  
Two rabbits which did grace 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
From the new 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

A loin of veal, a curious Hare,  
Two Pippin-pies, which was the fare,  
From Pickadella and soho.   

A haunch of venison very fat,  
(And when they saw't, they smiled at that)  
From Mistress Peele.   

A brace of Woodcocks, and a flight  
Of Partridges, all caught since night,  
From Mistress Gray and Mistress Hill,   

Dame Agur showed she loves her trade,  
Who sent two Custards ready made,  
With a pottle of Sack.   

Moll cutpurse sent, with ambergris,  
Two fools made sweet, worth crowns apiece,  
With a Monkey to make'em sport.   

They had a Turkey roasted brown,  
'Tis thought it cost at least a crown,  
From Nine-penny Mod.   

Dame Lopas sent the brewer's clerk,  
(Who lost his way it was so datk)  
With a Pigeon-pie.   

From mother Gardner was conveyed  
To them, two Pullets never laid,  
With a gallon of Claret.   

Pimp Major brought from every jade,  
That was in stock, and kept her trade,  
Six pence at least for wine.   

Who knows what that lascivious Imp,  
Which swore Saint George into a Pimp,  
Might send in his Sedan.   

To show what Gammer Welch did send,  
Or Goody Grigs, I should not end,  
Till I had tired my Muse.   

What Giles', Martin's in the fields,  
What black-mans' street, or Kent street yields,  
Would be tedious to relate.   

For every one within the Line,  
Which sent in money, meat, or wine,  
Cannot be named.   

The Beadle tuned his pipes, and raised his throat,  
He hath a mind to sing, his straggling note  
Is now reduced; but had his neck been ftrung,  
H''ve played a fit or two, but never sung.   

The Song.  
What candid sweetness is expreft,  
From hearts, by love, made free?  
Pan's Tribe had never such a feast,  
Nor such rewards as we.  
The bounty of the winged God  
Is in his subjects fhowne,  
Blind 〈◊〉! make for those a rod  
Who traffiqne with their own?  
Jove, crowze with pleasures and content  
With freedom. and success,  
Those polished treasures nature meant  
Her offspring should posse'sse.   

Doth any swain enjoy a field  
Which may not sow the ground,  
And reap the fruit which it doth yield  
With pleasures that abound?  
The Spring bestows her maidenhead  
Where natures fine is paid,  
Whose babes had been but hunger-fed  
Had Ceres died a maid.  
Jove crown, &c.   

We'll honour still the freeborn race,  
Whole minds to merits move:  
wink at, help, free all those with grace  
And praise the Queen of Love.  
To please young gallants is no crime,  
Or put new life to age,  
We'll clap a periwig on time,  
And he shall be their page.  
Jove crown with pleasures, &c.   

Love muzzells envy, puts a bit  
Into the mouths of them,  
Whose beards hang down for signs of wit  
Yet prize not Cupid's gem.  
Let Supervisors search the air,  
And Paper-scare-crowes fly,  
To vent their spleen into despair,  
Till malice bleak and die.  
Jove crown &c.   

We'll travel dry-shod through the deep  
And cool through fiery flames,  
Our brains in Helicon we'll steep,  
To blaze their honoured names.  
Let Pegasus their Sumptures bear,  
Parnassus' train attend  
Their joys alive, and Trophies wear  
To grace them to their end.  
Jove crown, &c.   

When they with wounds of love shall die,  
Fame shall their virtue's crown,  
And every star that's in the sky,  
Shall wear a mourning gown:  
The Sun a sable riding suit,  
The moon a tabby veil,  
The world (with cypress hung) be mute,  
Grim death, go under bail.  
Jove crown, &c.   

The birds which visit shady groves,  
In silence droop the wing;  
Save Philomela which sorrow moves  
Their Elegies to sing.  
The painful silk-worms masterpiece  
(Perfumed) shall make them shrouds:  
For balm we'll rob the pride of Greece,  
Cut cerecloth from the clouds.  
Jove crown, &c.   

With roses, pinks, and gillyflowers,  
Adorn their moanful hearse;  
Tears turned to pearls, with honey showers,  
Composed with stately verse;  
To measure out Apollo's height,  
Which strong-breathed lofty lines,  
Shall sacrifice the muse's right,  
To consecrate their shrines.  
Jove crown with pleasure and content,  
With freedom and success,  
The polished treasures Nature meant.  
Her offspring should possess.   

They're very jovial drinking healths about  
To all their benefactors. Ere the rout  
Did fall in pieces, thus the clerk did wish,  
On that my Master had but such a dish!  
He loves it dearly, think it is not lost,  
His courtesies will countervail the cost.   

But Squire Dicks perceived, to whom the slip  
Belonged by right, did hardly feel the whip.  
And that his place was wronged, which by descent  
Did fall to him, took pet, away he went;   

To show their humours (to prevent the harms  
They use their names as visards do their charms)  
Is needless here, but all this dunghill breed  
Look like the excrements, on which they feed.  
A maistive litter! which at carrion plucks,  
And like the witches, which the Devil sucks; 
Dung hill breed.   
They live on sins (as Parrators did use)  
And strip truth naked, to maintain their stews.   

I turned, and did a powerful man espy,  
And he began to search as well as I; 
Another Searcher.   
With whom I had discourse: he asked me how  
These things might be redressed? said I, allow  
Wise men, but leave to search suspected places  
With Warrants; by their habits, and their faces,  
With carriage, course of life, will soon bewray  
(First try a smooth, and then a rugger way)  
Their guiltiness. One's poor, being over-awed,  
Plundered of all, a cousin to the bawd  
Another proves herself: a soldier's wife, 
How to 〈◊〉   
The third will be, and she is now in strife  
To get his pay: the fourth i● in debt;  
the lives in private, for the Hounds are set  
●o smell her out. Another can produce  
●etters, to show her portion's out at use,  
And cannot get it in; her mother's fain  
To send her means, which by her notes is plain:  
But written by the Pimp still, once a week.   

The last, of all, her answers are to seek,  
And she'll confess the vileness of this trash,  
So you will save her from the beadle's lash:   

Send out to seize 'em, as they walk the street,  
They'll call familiar names, you smiling greet,  
With C●ze, How d'ye Sir? What's a clock? Good night:  
Oh, countryman! what news? and you invite  
To drink a cup: put them within (for state)  
One of the Bridewells, or the Counter gate.   

The houses you may know, by little cans,  
And Pimping pots, from any honest man's.  
Where, they sell drink, or of their neighbours bought,  
Of every penny they will make a groat.   

Their times of meeting's after candlelight,  
You'll find them in their filthy nests by night,  
With their foul train; try, finding bad their cause,  
Do justice quickly; bribes will blind the laws:  
Shame partial Knaves: do (trusting faithful men)  
More in a year than has been done in ten.   

This pleased him well; he'd use his power and skill,  
To honour true men, chase away the ill.  
And parting thus, a Rogue, that bought his wife,  
Being kin to great men, they might save his life,  
And make him Sessions proof, appeared before.   

When he was past, there was behind a door 
Conference with the devil.   
The devil booted, in his hand a switch,  
Who with a Bawd, a Strumpet, and a Witch,  
Held conference; the first, as it appears,  
Demands a lease of one and thirty years,  
To live at ease, with mirth (as she hath seen)  
But his Commission grants but seventeen  
Upon a rotten soul. The second must  
Have forty five to satiate her lust,  
And dwell with pleasures; and the Fiend must be  
Engaged to keep her from the Gallow-tree,  
And whipping posts: 'cause her bewitching tongue  
Must bring him custom, being fair and young;  
He seals for thirty, giving her a jeer,  
I never used to buy a soul so dear.   

Then spoke the Witch, to have her lease renewed,  
Most out of date; which when the devil viewed,  
He laughing said, I will renew thy roll,  
If thou canst pawn me but thy daughter's soul;  
For this is mine. Dost take me for thy slave?  
Lend time on that, which shortly I must have!  
Fear made her quake. He (to resolve the doubt)  
Will keep her warm when her Indenture's out.   

As strangers, flattered with deceitful snow,  
Fall in a deadly pit; they do not know, 
moral.   
That ruin waits upon them. Like the ass,  
Upon bare quarter to and fro doth pass,  
Laden with spices, gold, and precious stones,  
Fowls tear his flesh, and dogs do gnaw his bones.  
When they die, slain, diseased, weak, or old,  
They cannot bribe these vermin with their gold.   

So hellhounds, piecemeal, vexeth every part,  
Which suck their blood; the Vulture cats the heart.  
Their feet make creepers, to support the brand,  
Their legs in flames, like hand-irons do stand:  
Their bellies filled with horrors, and for racks,  
To hang their bowels on, they use their backs:  
They dry their livers, and they broil their lungs;  
Slicing their arms, their hands they use like tongs,  
To stir the burning coals: in sulphury smoke,  
Their heads must hang, with which the throat must choke:  
The veins and sinews shrink, the ribs must lie  
Like gridirons, on which their souls must fire:  
Their spirits die alive, they have their skin  
Tanned brimstone proof, to keep their torments in.  
Th've better been unborn, than thus misled,  
To be in Hell anatomised when they' are dead.    

SECT. VI.  

A formless female you shall find,  
As well in body as in mind;  
Her face, her speech, her breath bewrayed,  
Her hands, back, sides, legs, feet, displayed:  
She'd fain turn Whore, if not a Bawd,  
Her means have Suitors; none applaud  
Her parts, non person, in disgrace  
They leave her, when they see her face.   

ERe Flora's savour had the air perfumed,  
Or barren winter was by time consumed,  
The teeming earth did promise wealth and peace,  
When she was stored with blessings of increase.  
The day had mortgaged time to envious night,  
Then was a Female brought unto my sight,  
Drained from the dregs of time; which when I saw,  
How she was framed t'oppose great Natures Law,  
I could not choose but wonder: then my Muse  
Called fancy in, took libertis to use  
Her skill, to limb this virgin: you may see 
Descriptions.   
How both her beauty, and her parts agree.   

You might perceive the hair upon her head  
Was took on trust, or purchased from the dead.  
Her ears were large, and hanged about with 〈◊〉,  
She'd shak'em oft, and prick them like an ass:  
Her brows were furrowed, very deep, and large,  
And filled with soil, ('t was but an easy charge)  
They like a penthouse hung, to save her face  
From all misfortunes; coloured with such grace,  
Say what you would, her colour would not change,  
'Twas chestnut-like: In maids 'tis very strange.   

Her nose did show, how envy doth appear:  
Above 'twas pale: Consumption, grief, and fear,  
Had made it shrink; the other part did swell,  
And looked so red, as if it would rebel:  
It did disdain the other in distress,  
That part grew rich, the other poor and less:  
The lower part turned up again with spleen;  
To quiet all, there was a hill between,  
Kept down the fire: but still the grain doth fret,  
The holes were made, some of the Rubies set.  
Two streams run through't, how strange it was to me,  
That fire and water should so well agree!   

Her eyes perceived this strife about the nose,  
Though they were sunk, the water than arose  
To cool this broil: fresh remedy it seeks,  
With running post it guttered all her cheeks,  
But all in vain: then both her eyes did bend  
Their force to wait upon the lower end.  
Though divers ways they seemed to go astray,  
They viewed the nose as constant as the day;  
They altogether shamed great Neutunes pride,  
When that is low, 'tis always here high tide:  
Herod pimpled cheeks made fruitful by the itch,  
Decked o'er with pearls, but were not half so rich;  
They still were solid in the midst of mirth,  
For gardning time, her nails had raked up earth.  
Her breasts were like two bottles made of leather,  
Yet thev were twins, for they stuck close together,  
Some Carbunkles, with Saphires there were set,  
The ground, some yellow, some as black as jet,  
She had one fault, her mouth was too too narrow,  
Reached but from ear to ear, mouthed like a sparrow;  
Her lips were shrewdly beaten with the weather,  
And so at odds they would not come together:  
They swelled with pride, than emulation rose  
Which first should catch the droppings of her nose;  
The lower lip did always cheat the other,  
And quite forgot the upper was her brother;  
Her teeth being kind, did grieve so much, that they  
Fell in consumption pining still away.  
All mourned in black, each tooth did lose his life  
Died by degrees, and left them thus at strife;  
The language that did steal out from her throat  
Did jar, and sound just like a raven's note;  
The screech-owl in the tone did bear a part,  
But not a word proceeded from her heart.   

To see this damsel many there did throng,  
Her breath did keep them of it smelled so strong,  
Full six yards of (Muse prithee do not lie)  
Her breath was smelled, judged of the standers by.  
A silly cur was for this savour blamed,  
He being guiltless, ran away ashamed.   

Her neck was sable, and decitfull too,  
Bearing the head with very much ado;  
Nor could it once be brought to own her face,  
But sink it down, and left it in disgrace.  
Her shoulders still were constant at a pinch,  
Her head abou'em could not creep an inch:  
They held together and did domineer,  
Keeping the head with force below in fear;  
Her hands were wrinkled, with so gross a grain  
You could not see the rising of a vein.  
And being coloured of the saddest white  
Like mourning-gloves, and yet swelled up with spite:  
Her fingers were too short to tell a sum,  
Nor could you know her fingers from her thumb.   

Then looking on her back, a bunch I spied  
That was most constant on the weakest side:  
'Twas broad and ridged, yet not much in length,  
Made fit for burdens, but she wanted strength.  
She'd lost a joint being frighted in this fray,  
One side sunk half a yard the other way:  
Her hips did shrink aside, yet they with passion  
Broke out, 'cause farthingales were out of fashion.  
To all the rest, her buttocks were unkind,  
They followed after, but a yard behind;  
Her massy legs, seemed to be made of wood,  
Here's one fault more, the wrong ends downwards stood.  
She on her leg did scorn to nurse a calf,  
The lower end was fuller fed by half:  
Her fleshly ankles would not be content,  
But spread themselves (think but how spare she went)  
Her corn-fed feet with haste were never moved,  
Her heels would strike each others, yet they loved;  
The sides were not so hollow as the rest,  
The bottoms too did like plain dealing best:  
She loves square play, she is even with her toes,  
Th'were borne together, but they live like foes.  
They will not yield, although they are kept under,  
They keep true distance still a yard asunder;  
Her temper is the lowest in degrees,  
Pray pardon one mistake, I've missed her knees;  
They did uphold each other in this fight,  
Like faithful friends, yet they would often smite;  
Her mind was wanton but her face and shape  
Would cool the lusting of the filthiest ape.   

She was a fowl of night, what nature did  
Lay open to her shame, she would have hid;  
A whore she would have been, none did appliud  
Her parts, nor person, then she'd turn abawd,  
But that she proved to be the common scoff,  
But as a foil, to set such cattle off,  
She might be used, if she could get a place,  
For she's as shameless, as the beggar's base.   

To shun temptation, there's no need to mask her,  
Show but her face, there's none alive will ask her.  
Her fame was spread, to see this lass came store,  
But then her looks did fright'em from the door:   

The raiment on her back was very rich  
Or for her lands and coin, I know not which  
Suitors came in; the wealth they came to woe,  
By'r none could have't except they'd have her too,  
Then they left off their suits, still to this time  
She leads a single life, being past her prime.  
If I should show her wit, how she will vapour,  
'Twould 〈◊〉 my time, besides a sheet of paper:  
Her outside now shall satisfy my rhyme,  
I'll blaze her inside at another time.  
Look where she is, and view her in the light,  
Now I'll be filent, lest I shame her quite.    

SECT. VII.  

A Carpenter the devil turns,  
And in a brothel-house, he learns  
To pimp about. He falls in love  
With two or three that lie above.  
He'ad been gentile, to please one whore,  
Had not the Surg'on found her sore.  
A Cheat, complaints, a filthy damp  
From traitors vaults, the beastly Camp;  
A Phoenix found; two shirking Spies;  
The Bawds profession, ere she dies.   

AFter the storm, the clouds which did embrace  
The night's black bosom, flattered with disgrace,  
Prove turncoats on her; or, like moors in spite,  
Being black themselves, do paint the devil white:  
Their shrowds were gleans & comets. Now their pride  
(Their watne robes dropped piecemeal) cannot hide  
The passages of Hell: they rather make  
A Court of Guard, that the infernal Lake  
May have commerce more freely: at the last,  
Hell sent a private spy, who with a blast. 
a spy.   
Mounts to an upper room, and gained relief,  
Where Cock the cobbler's Pink commands in chief.   

His habit like a Carpenter, his hose 
His habit.   
Of beggar's velvet, here and there a rose  
Branched out with fruits; his waistcoat very red,  
A plaited band, a cap wrought on his head,  
A rule by's side, his apron rugged leather,  
His stockings blue, his heels went close together;  
With flat soled shoes. I drawing near to see,  
His cloak-bag hose were tied above the knee:  
His hands were brawny, with a swarthy face, 
his person.   
Much like the Jew that used to haunt the place,  
Which ends this bawdy Row. Black nicks their guest,  
Who minds them most, when they do mind him least.   

He's much in love with Cock, and haunts her bed,  
He ccurts her twice, and if her maidenhead  
Had been but vamped, sh''ve pleased this cautious spy,  
Who feared the heat. She did but draw his eye;  
He hopes to match her, to increase the breed 
The devil's in love.   
Of Vulcan's nephews, and the serpent's seed.   

He loves the Mistress too, because she's right,  
He'd be the Jews corrival: but to night  
The Clerk must becord her first; he'll patience learn,  
Finding she breeds up others for his turn,  
And pays the use to hell: when she doth call,  
Who hopes at last to have the principal.   

This fiend is active, downward he doth creep,  
And finds a vassal entered, fast asleep, 
custom for sin.   
Who had not paid the custom for his sin,  
But thought to cheat the devil; who came in  
And like a corpse he winds him in the sheet,  
And carr's him out, and lays him in the street;  
By rule he measured him, as though his doom  
Had been to make his coffin or his tomb,  
But left him on his face, as if this slave  
For's 〈◊〉, were to scratch himself a grave.  
When waking he amazed, and affright,  
With nembling joints, fierce looks, with's hair upright  
Ran to, and fro: he by experience found 
The devil's grave.   
His lodging was upon the devil's ground;  
Where he will build anew, or pitch his tent,  
And for this end this carpenter was sent.  
He's often in the cellar, through a chink  
He'll peep, when Giunie comes to draw the drink,  
Sculk in the drinking-rooms, when any whore  
Looks on his face, he slinks behind the door  
And vanisheth: yet knocking near the rout,  
Stamps on the flower, and throws the goods about:  
Trips up the stairs, and finds a sherk a bed,  
He walks about the room, than holds his head.  
He proves a constant guest, both night, and day,  
But like the Scotchman, Deile a groat he'll pay.   

Well, Nick mounts higher yet, and whets his tools,  
Throws down the table, up and down the stools:  
And finds a Pinnace waking, by and by  
He takes his axe and's lifts it up on high, 
The devil's tools.   
Aims at her neck, and holds it o'er the bed,  
As though he did intend to chop her head  
Off at a blow: if thus he had served this jade,  
'T've been enough to 've spoiled the hangman's trade.  
A real warning! and the stroke had been,  
But yet she is not black enough with sin.   

She's fearful, strange, she doth not like his pitch,  
If she were old enough to make a witch, 
She likes not his pitch.   
He'd grow familiar with her, than he spved   

A Surgeon coming on, who must be fried, 
The surgeon's fears.   
For being scalded, or the old disease  
Creeps through her bones, which can afford no ease:  
Must have a private search, and who but he   

Attend him up? the Carpenter must see.  
Sometimes he'd peep, and by and by he'd pause,  
First here, than there; and when he found the cause,  
Slunk out of sight, the Surgeon saw him first,  
Called for a jug of beer, to quench his thirst;  
Took him to be the tapster: but in fear  
He left his Patient, and forgot his beer.   

The Carpenter was taken with this Jade,  
And for her sake he had forsook his Trade,  
Packed up his tools, and sent away his box,  
Save that he was afraid to catch the—  
Or to be burn'nt, he could not leave his Nell:  
Alas, he knows there's heat enough in bell.   

I heard a sudden knocking, at a door,  
None in the house, but choice of goods, and store;  
The answer was, No person is within,  
They heard one as they said, and do begin  
To give salutes, to blind the Neighbours eyes,  
They put one in, and cared away the prize.   

Near to that place, was a malignant crew,  
Plotting deceits: (let Caesar have his due)  
And spurn at those (like Drones within the hives)  
That fetch them honey, to preserve their lives.   

Then coming near their Camp, some swore, some drunk,  
Each, two or three. betwixt them had their punk:  
Some robbed, some stole, and brought it to their den,  
They've licence for't, shall Princes lose their men  
For want of pinks and plunder, Is it right?  
Th'associated pillage made 'em fight.  
As they preserve Truth, Liberty, and laws,  
So let them thrive: let Justice try the cause.   

Here's one comes moaning of herself, her case  
Is very bad; she cannot keep her place  
For Supervisers. Wenches took away  
For Bridewell birds. But I shall see the day  
When they shall suffer for this foul abuse.  
I made amends. Now pleasures out of use,  
If such prevail, we that have pleased the Age,  
Shall have rewards; in Bridewell, or the Cage.   

But here's another (which is rare to find)  
Of better temper: formerly too kind,  
Which breaks her heart, makes tears drop down along  
Her paler cheeks: true sorrow moves her tongue,  
Thus, to disclose her grief:   

Oh! thou that governest all things, pity me!  
That have loved sinners, and forsaken thee!  
I've purchased shame. Oh! thou that giv'st all grace,  
Show me thy beauty, let me see thy face  
In sweeter terms: and let thy Spirit fill  
My soul with love of thee, to hate all ill.  
Teach me to fear thee while I draw my breath:  
And free me from the snares of sin and death.  
Although in sin I've spent my former days,  
Yet, make me now an Instrument of praise.   

Among the foundlings one is found, here blessed:  
Who like a Pliemix will disgrace the rest.   

I pressed on still, (my night being sharp and long)  
And spied two Shifters, but I held my tongue.  
One was in threadbare scarlet, wanting colour;  
The other was in black: as he grew duller  
His robes turned grey with age: 'twas my intent  
To mark their carriage: to a stews they went.   

The bawd was pocky-sick; yet spoke this beast  
Ah! I am going to eternal rest,  
To see my Saviour. I must mind my tomb.  
Those whom you seek are in the drawing room.  
Go, take your choice, when I am dead and rotten,  
Honest Meg Spencer will not be forgotten. 
M 〈…〉 Sp 〈…〉 〈◊〉   
My girls were free, you never knew that I  
Di●grac't a man that left our company.  
●hat comfort's this to me! go, I am ill  
You stand in thorns until you have your will. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉    

Here's mischief in the abstract: In their path  
Sin walks with hell in state: death armed with wrath  
Dogs them behind. The devil keeps his Court  
A while on earth, to make his foundlings sport.  
Had hell a queasy stomach, they might be  
Saved from her jaws: or at the least if she  
Did swallow them: when once she left the pain  
(To ease her spleen) she'd spew them up again,  
But nothing frets her lungs: she needs must thrive:  
The ten horned beast she swallowed down alive,  
With monstrous locusts. she'd her Patent use,  
To take in all which Heavens doth refuse   

Bawd-like, the Spider, in his Pantry spies,  
To seize the heedless carcases of flies;  
And vent his poisoned humours. For his hire  
He with his brood are swept into the fire,  
Or pressed to death. As wandering Comets fall  
To earth from whence they rose, (this rabble shall  
Speed like the Spider) and their sparkling flame  
Shall fall as low as hell: but still their shame  
Must live on earth: Except my papers rot,  
Or time consume their memory. If not,  
Some sharper quill may chase them to their inn,  
When they have only privilege to sin;  
And pleasures are degraded, by their pains,  
Old time consumed; Eternity remains.    

SECT. VI  

A hateful swarm, the shot one paid:  
The plastered crew, seized goods, what stayed.  
They bib a fresh; the Cripples will:  
A bore, the Ruiners lines prove ill.   

THe day being driven near the furthest point,  
Sense dead asleep: Discretion out of joint;  
Black darkness ruled with triumph: sent out spies,  
To take close prisoners, all with open eyes;  
lest they should view the works (by candle light)  
Until they were exchanged for bats of night.  
The stars did fear infection: and the moon  
Turned back with fear to see one night so soon  
Should gender such corruption; wherein breeds  
Such strange shaped vermin, and such hateful deeds,  
By them adored. Those that love slothful rest,  
Call her sweet shadow, Chamber for the blessed.   

Now, to my work. I scouted out, and found  
A six fold knot, One in a drunken swound  
Lay stretching by the rest. One's like to choke;  
The third (whose heathen weed— turned into smoke,  
Will cure all distempers, in the brain,)  
Is but a learner yet, The fourth had a vain  
With new-found baits, to cheat the silly fish, 
The capt.   
Had he but catcht'em, he'd present a dish  
To these, his friends. The fifth a gross offender,  
And judged to be but of the doubtful gender.  
The last was of the neuter: but to night  
Their gender's common in the cobbler's sight.   

The lustful Ape would blush to hear it named,  
And brazen impudence would be ashamed.  
They'd swear and drink out time: they with their whores  
Did only chase his fore top out of doors,  
And saw him bald behind: one skulks away;  
But now the reckoning comes, which one must pay.  
The captain has no coin: but he intends  
To leave his tools: which with the cobbler's ends,  
Will stop a hole. The man that suks the weed  
Is flush, as yet;— and he must do the deed.   

The Bill.  No. 1. For two and forty Pots of Ale, o 11 s. 6 d.  And Jug that told the merry tale: No. 2. For Wine, and Sugar, and for Nell, 1l. 2 s. 3 d.  But you must pay for what befell No. 3. For Cakes, Strong-water, Smoke, and Wood, o 17 s. oh  Pay all, and there's my Flagon good: No. 4. But I forgot, you had at first, o r. s. 7 d.  Of Red- cow's milk to quench your thirst.  His purse did swell, till he had paid, 2l. 12 s. 4 d.  But then the rising bunch was laid.  

One foaming like a boar, that's not excused,  
Who hatmis the sinks of sin, and he is used  
For hotter work. For he goes up and down  
To serve the queans, their friends being out of town  
But then, there was presented to my sight  
A Master-Peere: the worst I saw to night:  
A formelesse heap of rubbish in a Cell,  
Almost as dark, and not so hot as Hell  
Yet living bugs. Some had but half a face  
Some half a nose, some none, some in the place  
〈◊〉 lost their legs, another wants his arm,  
Another both: some hands, some had their harm  
About their loins: some wanting 〈◊〉, some 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 Gregory scorched; their sight I did despise,  
 
 
 
 
 
 
They point their 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, when to 〈◊〉  
Which rob in private, which in open street;  
Who to be bawd in chief: who 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
Who Warden of the 〈◊〉: and every imp  
〈◊〉 their orders from 〈◊〉, and they do  
〈◊〉 laws, and punish gross offenders too;   

They make them pay 〈◊〉 for several sins;  
〈◊〉 Cabbs in grain:— yet, one of them begins  
〈◊〉 malignant humours; and 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 they consume their stock; and he prepares  
A bill against them, but, before 'twas framed  
His goods were seized in th'inventery named.   
Primo A dish, two spoons, two earthen pans, 
〈◊〉   A tub, two stools, one was his man's. Secundo A doublet, and a pair of hose:  The coat's at pawn belong to those 
〈◊〉  Tertio A pot, a cupboard, and a knife,  A gooding bag, a coif for s wife. Quarto A box of salve, and two brass rings; 
〈◊〉   With Parker's works, and such like things. Quinto A bedstead and a bed of straw  A sheet a rug: all which I saw. Sexto With other lumber, being guessed,  Will come to nine pence at the least  

Besides, he has conveyed away,  
A bowl, a skillet, and a trey,  
A trowel, and a pair of tongs:  
And down this Court apparent wrongs.   

He stands sequestered: now he`s made their 〈◊〉;  
Being a delinquent, who can take it off?   

I must go view my Senators, who have  
New plaisterd all their sores: they only crave  
An other tub of Ale, to laugh and prate:  
And he shall pay for`t out of his estate.  
The chief of these did surfeit, and was ill:  
So sick, at last, that he did make his will.   
In manner and form following. Inprinsis I do bequeathe my pallet bed 
The beggar's Will.   My hat, my cap upon my head.  To Will in 〈◊〉 Item My pewter dish, my earthen ware,  And sheets, I think I have a pair.  To Doll in Old Bridewell. Item My table, and my two joined stools,  My trusses, and my plascering tools.  To Ned in the Clink. Item I freely give my pleared ruff,  The third part of my householdstuff.  To 〈◊〉 in the Gate-house. Item The other two parts I bestow  (If he will pay what ere I owe.)  To George in the White lion. 〈◊〉 I give my shirt, an ell of lawn,  Which lie for eighteen pence at pawn.  To Nan in the martial Sea for clouts. Item My wearing clothes within my Chest,  The cloak hath been but nine times dressed.  To 〈◊〉 in the Counter. Item My second cruch, scrapped lint, fine clouts.  An ounce of pills, or thereabouts  To Giles in the hospital. Item My better crutch, my plasterd roll,  Box-leg, receipts, and bowzing bowl.  To this Worthy Assemby.  

As for my foul, I cannot tell  
Whe`re 'tis for heaven or for hell:   

I leave it to the venture.  
A private dunghill for my grave,  
My corpse cast in, by night, I'd have:  
lest 〈◊〉 idolise my name,  
Or envious Roundheads blaze my shame.   

I leave it to your wise consideration.  
Being joint Executors, this my will  
Within two months, you must fulfil.   

Or my Ghost will 〈◊〉 you.   

But this disaster parted all the rout,  
'Twill cost you pains again to find  
A Poetaster comes,  
And yet I  
theyare rough,  
They  
They  
 
He  
How  
Art,  
They are not  
With ekes, from weight.  
As is the horseleech, , the Poetaster.  
Whose sides bag out when newly fetched from grass   

His praises make them rich. He hews their feet  
Like his that rimed for farthings in the street.  
Yet they have took a pinnace, who's at strife,  
To cut the throat, or poison his poor wife.  
But fears the Wardens check: (her love of late)  
That walks to's manor once a Month in start.  
He's 〈◊〉 a begging paper to a Knight, 
Begging   
Or else he had been study'ng all this night  
They made his worship laugh: yet gave no chink:  
But stuffed his belly, and his brains with drink. 
〈◊〉   
His rhymes made privy seals: he swears (being vexed,)  
He'll write no more to Knights: a Lord's the next.  
He railed, and reeled about, until he found  
His heels betrayed his fancies to the ground:  
But no learshon: poor Poets old excuse!  
His stock was wit, before 'twas put to use.   

As is the Ty-dog mad, when he breaks loose, 
the moral.   
Here spoils a sheep, and there he pulls a goose,  
Yonder a calf. With rage and venom pressed,  
He'll bite a man, as well as tear a beast.  
At last he's caught; he dies: they seize his skin;  
He suffers for his fact (yet free from sin)  
Being hard to take, so violent and cursed,  
Before he dies, he's knocked and 〈◊〉 first.   

Such fit similitude may blaze your ill;  
To open view: although he made no will.   

You all had chains, by nature, on your necks;  
Nor did all spring from dunghills: but had checks  
With sweeter education: Natures tie  
Is broke by force: from what you learned your fly:  
Make spoil of what you find. 〈◊〉 a while  
You pull and tear: and growing still more vile  
By fin you're caught: burnt, mangled and disgraced,  
Disarmed, unnosed, dismouthed, and some unfaced.  
The Law doth sear, whip, crop you: at the last  
Death takes you as he finds you: having cast  
Your naisty, plaisterd 〈◊〉 into the dirt,  
Your souls grow mad, where they can do no hurt.   

I pity you. Ah! must your helpless souls  
Dwell still in tears and groans! where hell's black rolls  
Ingroced with all your sins, lie in your sight!  
To gnaw your wounds, but never see the light!  
Yet all such torments, with the soul, in sums,  
Dwell but in as earnest till the body comes,    

SECT. ix..  

A 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is 〈◊〉,  
His shirt exchanged, a smock displayed  
With arms upon't. Another time  
A basket-wench renews his crime.  
The grated vermin. Rebel's land  
Shall buy no fin at second hand  
The drunken dust, how shame breaks in.  
A wooden lig prevents a sin:  
The guilty Priests, a Drab denies  
Her husband's names: the Judge then spies  
A glorious sight. The young man's grief  
The olds man's shame must have 〈◊〉.   

THe air as now enlightened with a gleam,  
Night winks at all: or being in a dream:  
A gentle 〈◊〉 glides in: she's overpressed;  
Or having took a surfeit at the feast,  
Quick eyes took licence to behold the crimes,  
That are in 〈◊〉, with the charge of times.  
Dark losers 〈◊〉, bearded Comets seen,  
backbite Dame Venus, flatter with the Queen,  
Yet breaking 〈◊〉 with finners, they divide  
Their shame by equal portions. Then I spied  
A Squire of 〈◊〉 Court, to recruit his sin,  
A facke of female kitchen-stuff took in  
To grease his way to hell: and his intents  
With 〈◊〉, oaths, and compleents.  
Were varnishd thus— Dam-me I've a mind  
To court thy lousy carcase: be but kind,  
Let me embrace thy corpse: it is my will  
To search thy closet: do not take it ill:   

Be not so coy— confound me thou art strange?  
Sir, did not your Grandfather build the exchange.  
You are a worthy Gentleman: but I  
Am far unfit for your sweet company;  
Being old, and dirty, and my dressing tore  
My smock is nasty, ragged, course and poor.  
Hang't thou shalt have my shirt, thy smock I'll make  
Gentile in love: I'll wear it for thy sake.   

They are gone to bed: but how the bold faced night  
Did turn, their bawd, I, m silent; when the light  
Had outfaced darkness, she had quit the bed:  
The Squire gropt, but kissing Shiffe was fled.  
He rose in rage, inquired, searched about,  
His shirt did wipe her heels when she went out.   

He in her frock as black as hell did look;  
Armed with a patch of green, the left arm took  
The azuae trophy, time did now uncase,  
The devil's foundlings. In another place,  
The bloody colours, from an ancient house,  
Where the pale 〈◊〉 of the passent louse,  
Lie couchent bend, in Sable-field: but he  
Is rampant, gules a trope of victory.  
A badge: the Mullet seated on the breast  
A Woodcock moulting: squire had lends crest  
But the supporters were (this vesture bore)  
An Ape in chains, a lecher burned before.  
Some laughing said, this garment was astray:  
The hangman was too proud, to bring't away.  
When cross-lane Peggy died: and some did think  
It was the devil's dishclout, dipped, in ink.  
Enriched, with Bluekins tippet (being seen)  
Or Lady Katherine's flesh-bag trimmed with green.  
When this choice robe, was by the laundress found,  
The relics was reserved, the Creepers drowned.   

Let grief in, Commans wait upon this spark:  
His only shirt is lost, which cost a mark.   

Who'd be the devil's vassal, if he must  
Be always cheated by a sinners trust?  
This Blade recruites again: his Courtly mind  
Was to salute, disgrace: where he did find  
A watered clod of dust: whose dropping nose,  
With waper eyes, and matter, did disclose  
Deformity, if self: her broadsold feet  
Bore nature's grief, which at the heels did meet:  
Lust was in travel, when the watchman found  
These lovely Babes where sin with shame is crrownd.   

His wife, who heard the fame, spoke thus: you'll have  
Your name, and state goe mourning to the grave,  
Attended with disdain. Reproach will live  
To stain your family, when death shall give  
A challenge to your dust: who will display  
His fable flags and storm your house of clay.   

He answered her, let me have pleasure sealed  
For term of life: such acts may be repealed  
Ere saucy death be armed; I'll leave my lust  
When drops of pleasure cannot drench my dust.  
Quit scores with me. But she with tears replyde  
How vain is that revenge, where sins abide.  
With misery! but Justice gives relief  
To plundered hopes: and will cashier my grief,  
When wounded joys shall muster; [dead] they must  
Have all free quarter in the easy dust.   

Had I had portion, comeliness or wit,  
I had not been so fond, as to have quit  
My freedom thus: or sold content to borrow  
A dying Prop, where strife breeds living sorrow.   

This stately Courtier scorns to harbour shame  
But impudence is guardian to his name,  
From the assaults of modesty. And he  
Will have the rules of hell for's libertle.   

Could they but bring his Pinnace under sail,  
Placed next the herb-wench with her dagled tail  
He in his scutchined robe; and one by vote,  
To read this history, and blaze the cote,  
Set near th' exchange, about the golden 〈◊〉.  
If they afford this show for pence a piece,  
The Turkie-Rom, the double footed Hart,  
The dancing Horse, and Hocus with his Art,  
Being jointly, or a part put out to use,  
Flags to entice the eyes, can near produce  
Such choice of penny-customers, who'd see  
This cominicke story with the tragedy.   

A Nest of water-rats with dropsy swell;  
Grin through the grates: being like to challenge hell  
One tamer than the rest, as he did stand  
A spy for death, cause he would come to hand  
He was allowed such privilege to have;  
As suits the confines of a living grave.  
This vermin spies a Fury, one, whose hair  
Had quit the skull: her face with age and care  
Was tanned and furrowed deep: her purled skin,  
Was pleated, for the grave rat brings her in.  
To stock his crimes, must arm this fondling up,  
Salutes the Lady having drank a cup.  
He'd grow familiar, she begins to fight,  
And scratch his face, and had a mind to bite,  
But that her guns lay follow: in their play  
Her 〈◊〉 were daged, her legs were wreathed with hay.  
Hell hath her ends. All those Percullos Imps  
Under her privy seal, became their Pimps.  
Despised 〈◊〉 of vice! whose putrid slime  
Makes living vengeance ripe before its time.   

One who pretends she's plundered, with a brief  
Will beg in print, to keep a Pimping thief;  
Came creeping by. A bloody rebel than  
Who had acquaintance with Committee-men,  
If they'll befriend him so, to save his land,  
He 〈◊〉 scorn destiuction at the second hand:  
But give a rate, for any, new-found sin,  
Though but at 〈◊〉; as when he did begin  
To murder under seal. New here's a Punk,  
Seized by a lump of clay: being staggering drunk  
Will slake his hell-bred heat: this rake-shame must  
Spawn plagues in 〈◊〉, and gender guilt with dust:  
But found her lin. When he brought her in,  
She could but give bare quarter to his sin  
Her wooden leg, or turnpipe, being stout,  
Which like a barricado kept him out:  
And when it was unbraced, with what belong  
To this rare-piece: ye buckle and ye throng,  
Fell out upon't: which skirmish did betray  
Their twisted shame, before they went away.  
This damosel could not walk, until by Art  
The Stump was reconcied: nor could he part  
From his beloved cripple. Greedy hell  
Cast lots with death, when her Choy'e member sell,  
As Pars pro toto. All this Pot-cat kind,  
When e'er they pass, they leave a stink behind   

As did ye Vxebridge Priest, who needs must woo  
The guard of death, when he did lie with two.  
One that joins issue with an heir of shame,  
Forswears her husband, and denies his name,  
Keeps him in prison, angels teach the Judge,  
He'll take no bail. And now she will not grudge  
His clerk a feeling: reason out of sight,  
He weighs down sorrow, cause the woman's light.   

An aged father breeds his children's grief,  
Truths persecuter, and a bloody thief:  
Props shame with crooked shoulders, and invites  
A Lease of Strumpets to his base delights.  
Who tyrantlike promotes a damned cause,  
To banish right, and poison wholesome laws.  
Strong parts speak plainly, when they grace the devil,  
'Tis grace, not knowledge, keeps a man from evil.   

Flesh genders lust, which flaming torments breeds,  
Without manuring, as the earth doth weeds. 
moral.   
Which shelters vengeance; and contracts the crime  
Of years of pleasure in a minutes time,  
With lasting shame. That fool, who for a bowl  
Would sell his coat, denied to pawn his soul.  
These venture all, they've not enough of life.  
To taste all sweets, before the fatal knife  
Strikes all their joys, like beasts (for what the've eat)  
Their parts divided, pay for all their meat.   

When reason is engaged to beastly sense,  
A man turns 〈◊〉 again: and will commence  
Lost by degrees: saluting death he spies  
〈◊〉 break prison, where his pleasure dies  
For hell's burnt offering. In which horrid frights,  
His soul hath took her leave of all delights.  
His dust committed; till th' impartial tomb  
Upon the summons leaves him to his doom;  
Wner's justice is complete, and hell-hounds-have  
Eternity to guard their burning grave.    

SECT. 10.  

A Cell of Sharks, the Tutor made,  
A falsi, dogs learn his Trade,  
He baits his snares with Rings and glass,  
To catch the weak, his words shall pass,  
To cheat the Doblt, his strange decipes  
An other finding newer baits,  
He spies his times, hides ill with Lies,  
And rides the Circuit of the Size.   

ABout the second Watch I saught the places  
Where sharks did meet, the stars had hid their faces  
The vapours were congealed into a cloud  
With which the shades of night had made a shroud  
To wrap poor mortals in: I being in fear,  
Did hear a whispering, but I knew not where.  
But gaining courage guided by the sound,  
I, spied a Cell, where cheats were under ground.  
They did divide the spoil, the lots were thrown,  
All had their shares, but no man had his own.  
They braged, and told each other how they sped,  
How some did take the prize, while others fled.   

The Tutor first begins: I have to night 
The tutor.   
Met with a booty; as I took my flight.  
I was discovered I began to try.  
Stop, stop the thief; to catch him who but I?  
I gave my prey unto another man;  
I was discharged: But find him if you can.  
I have a Dog, that can convey a purse 
The dogs rode.   
Unto my fellows, what am I the worse?  
If he be took, I'm gone, that did the deed.  
If he be hanged I've others of the breed, 
A tumule.    

I raise a tumult as I walk abroad,  
To help my Friends. I'm partner with a Bawd.  
there's not a term, but I do understand  
Where Gamesters lie; with some new slight of hand  
I get their gold, new plots I do devise, 
Sherkes plots.   
To gull the world I baite'em fresh with lies.  
To cast a coulared chain, a ring of brass,  
An empty purse, or bracelets made with glass,  
To catch a countryman; or draw him in  
To pick his purse, persuade him we are kin:  
To name his Neighbours, or to give a slip  
Before to make him fall, while others 〈◊〉  
His purse away, to cut a cloak-bag down,  
These tricks are stale; and common in the town.  
I borrow money, other men are bound,  
I give my name in wrong: nor am I found 
Wrong 〈◊〉.   
When 'tis to be repaied: and those again  
Take names of worth, but they are not the men.  
I do procure it, they will set me free.  
'Tis but to give the Scribe a treble fee.  
Or any heir, not come to his estate,  
Yet would be brave; paying but twice the rate  
I'll bring him one shall fit him, if he will  
Mortgage his Land: he pays me for my skill:  
But if the Land be forfeit, than my pains  
Will be rewarded with the greater gains.  
He that has no invention, is not fit  
To use this Trade, 'twas Industry and wit  
That made me perfect; things both old and new  
May help our traffic, and uphold our crew.  
But new conceits I love, pray how was he  
That had the cart, and then the pillory 
New conceits.   
Praised and beloved? his witty projects made  
Him both gentle, and master of his Trade.  
Fain I would give you rules, and tell you how  
To cast your plots, but i'll say nothing now.   

Just, as he stopped, another broke his mind:  
I walk the City round, and where I find.  
A door left open, if it be but late,  
I slink in quick, and take a piece of plate,  
Or any thing of worth: if any spy me  
I'll hide the prize, and swear they do belie me.  
Or else to cover and prevent all fear,  
I ask for such a one, or call for beer?  
I took it for an Alehouse, if the maid  
Will be familiar, I am not afraid  
To try again, perhaps i'll be her Suitor,  
To bring my ends about sh'ell be my Tutor.  
If all be close, or if there be a hatch  
Where I have laid my gin, than I must watch  
walk to and fro, until I find the slight  
To turn the wards; it is a hateful spite  
That they were e'er devised, they're altered still;  
I am to seek; I strive to learn the skill  
Where they be sold, when I have found the way  
Let me alone, i'll quickly take my prey.   

I change my walks: for where I show my face  
This night; the next i'm in another a place;  
Unless it be full term: then I do stand  
To take my turn in Fleetstreet, or the strand.  
I were a Livery, and what I can  
That men may think I am a servingman;  
I counterfeit a Letter, or a Bond, 
Counterfeits.   
A Justice-warrant; any thing will stand  
When I am witness too't, if I am found  
'Tis but a whip, or snip: twice turning round  
Will wear it out; and for a single fee  
I'll swear a lie, as others will for me.   

At any meeting, revelling, or feast  
I make up one, when I am neatly dressed  
Who will distrust me? then I take my time  
To snap a bone, as perfect in the crime.  
I go to Church; if there I do but spy  
A man that on the Preacher hath his eye,  
I'll seem as strict as he; and with a grace  
I'll shake my head and look upon his face,  
Till I have got his purse, or cut his cloak,  
Then look on still: I care not what is spoke.   

Nay, more, I ride the circuit, cheat and steal  
Before the Judge: I see him every meal,  
And taste his fare: and yet I scaped 'till now:  
I keep a whore or two, can tell you how  
I spend my means. Come, rise, let us dispatch  
To quit this place: for yonder comes the Watch.  
I would have told you more; but now I must  
Commit my skill and secrets to your trust.   

As doth the snake in Summer first begin 
moral   
To shift his hole, and then to change his skin;  
So, do those vermin, when the light appears  
Change place and skin: their necks, backs, nose, or ears  
Will bear the brunt on't. they'll be made a prey,  
Sweep down the Cobwebs, th'Spiders creep away.  
Those noisome flies that on the dunghills feed,  
And buzz about, though now they are agreed  
To read to one an other, yet they'll find  
The meat they feed upon, will make'em blind.  
They lay the scene above ground: but they make  
The Vult et exit in th'infernal Lake.   

They crawl together, growing still more vild,  
If one repenting dies, their plots are spoiled.  
Humanity with them is out of date,  
All Right and Justice, till it be to late.  
They praise themselves for sin: what art from Hell  
They can but learn (till there they come to dwell)  
Shall be preferred, but ah! how soon they slide  
Down to their mourning shade! who can abide  
To reckon up their woes? such cheating slaves  
Are brought full soon to their unwelcome Graves.   

Who can rehearse the misery that they  
Do meet withal towards Hell? when all the way  
Is full of snares and fears, which will undo  
Their Mirth at best: it's joined with torments too.   

A serious look, the shaking of a hand,  
A dog that barks, or any thing will stand  
To let in shame upon them, all they get,  
Or makes them lasting Gins, or weaves a Net  
To keep them for the trial: when they must  
Be sent from whence they came; from thence to Dust.  
And as at first, when cheating they begun,  
They loved the darkest shade, and loathed the Sun;  
Now darkn esse is their portion: where Death have  
Took all their cheats to purchase them a Grave.   

Poor sots! that were bewitched! you did but find  
A smack of Hell: what followed on behind  
You could not see till now. Oh let my Quill  
Display, not teach, nor countenance such ill!  
Oh, that my Muse could show what horrid state  
Hell meets with sin and death! Then sinners fate  
In mournful measures would be ever sung  
By all that love the Muses; every tongue  
Would move in order. But my slender quill  
Suits with my Muse, compared with my skill.  
Vile sinners are in life and death distressed  
Read but this Epitaph than take your rest.   

The Epitaph.  

TWo sharks being dead, alive did fear no weather  
They pawned themselves or any ill they'd do:  
The Hangman put'm in a hole together:  
Their hopes are earth, now they are private too.  
Beware of 〈◊〉, 'twill raise a horrid blast.  
These shirking Rogues did cheat themselves at last.     

SECT. II.  

A Constable is wise and grave,  
He sucks the sack: and he will have  
His guilty neighbours scape the laws,  
The beadle, doth bewray the cause,  
Another Strikes where he's abused  
His 〈◊〉 guard, his wit accused.  
His love his tears beget a feast,  
His 〈◊〉 preferment is expressed.   

I Searching went, my business to dispatch,  
And on a sudden spied the common watch:  
The Constable being grave, put me in fear,  
He should have been the Officer last year: 
The petty side constable.   
His rule was by example, when he spoke  
One half was sack, the other part was smoke  
The tavern was his centre: he must have  
The other quart, and he's an errand knave  
That will not pledge him: if a handsome Whore  
Be guilty found, her freedom he'll restore:  
She promise to amend: but this the case  
She pays her fees; he points a private place  
To meet about it, if the Bawd can make  
But Friends, or money, he her part will take  
And quit her for this once: to please her then  
he'll wink in love, or not come there again.   

The Wine converts him to a cunning spy;  
None but his favourites dare look so high  
As such out landish liquour, some a sleep  
Are, while the vermin round about them creep.   

The rest are in blind alchouses; for they  
Have pence a piece to spend, and when the day  
Begins to peep they cannot see it: why?  
Tobacco's cloudy smoke doth charm the eye:  
And they'll be all Gentile, before they go:  
For they can prove this weed makes all men so   

The roaring smokers, they me thinks do mock;  
Let him be judge that's in the porter's frock.  
Some are bewitched to this outlandish weed;  
Nor can they leave, though that with fire do breed  
A sulphurous sinoake, that representeth hell.  
Is't Christian like? the Heathens they can tell  
Is't whole some in excess? those that did strive  
T' exceed, found death too soon: were they alive  
They'd fright you from it, if men were not blind  
They would not to the devil be so kind.  
ti's not Gentile, this cause the hangman tried;  
Who took it but the day before he died.  
Mistake me not! 'tis lawful to be used  
As physical: but not to be abused.   

I have digressed, where 〈◊〉 the Watch so long?  
I cannot find: now I may hold my tongue.  
Peace, yonder sits the Beadle on a Bench,  
His candles out; and he has got a Wench,  
With whom he's too familiar, that's the cause  
He frees such Imps contrary to the laws.  
he'll over look their Cells if you complain,  
(What would you have him cruel) ti's in vain,  
he'll plead their custom: urge me not; must I  
Do what my Predecessors did deny?  
And for the Constable, he's much in fear:  
For those that went before him, year by year  
Did pass such things, perhaps they got a fee  
They be our neighbours, and we must agree.  
We must be merciful what ere we do  
That's harsh towards them, we should repent o''nt too   

Ah, no redress! I must go search again,  
Some honesty may dwell among such men.  
Well now I am in hope: for here's a man  
Reputed just: accuse him if you can.   

Make room for Master Constable: for he 
The terrible 〈◊〉.   
Hath purchased wisdom by authority  
His staff is neatly painted; he will frown:  
Keep off; or else point black he'll knock you down.  
he'll use his power freely in his fit  
What ere you think, pray question not his wit.  
He naturally knows his charge, in's place,  
And he can judge before he hears a case.  
His confidence is strong, his fancy weak;  
His eyes are dim; yet he can see to speak:  
When once his tongue is dipped in Spanish oil  
It runs all bias, though his heels do fail.  
Submit yourselves; for he's a man of might:  
He is no spirit though he walks by night,  
He's Justice in the Letter, Friend, or foe;  
If you offend him, to the Goyle you go.   

His Guard attends upon him, weaponed men,  
Affront'em not, for fear they turn again:  
But there's no danger with an angry word  
they're laid, at least wise if they see a sword.   

Mistrust him not, to differ place, or time:  
He being proved not guilty of the crime,  
He'll make you smoke; one fearing he had wit,  
Was shrewdly shent, the Officer was quit,  
From such a slander, th' others fain to make  
Confession of his fault: he'll warning take  
By this mischance; and promising to men  
ne'er to be jealous of his wit again.   

The Magistrate being pleased, doth at his charge  
Make him a feast, and now he will enlarge  
His words beyond all measure: nor can I  
Attend upon him till his eyes be dry.  
Oh tender heart! how sudden is thy change  
The juggler's slights are common, thine are strange.  
Nature for changes, forced now must be  
To work by night, and take her aim from thee:  
If full mouthed winter thus can charm thy years  
The gentle spring will 〈◊〉 thee into tears  
He that to buy a jest, can spend his store,  
I'd have him still collected for the poor.   

When honesty and wit are in a fright,  
Who shall we find to overlook the night?  
One is a fool in gross: the other dreams  
His retail's just: yet both are in extremes.  
A foolish pity makes a hellhound worse,  
And justice out of joint, will spurn and curse  
All reason out of use, who can but see  
'Tis hot and cold beyond the ninth degree?  
Video et doceo, perhaps I may  
Find better orders, when I search by day.    

SECT. 12.  

A Doctor kept a 〈◊〉 Jade  
His Will, being dead, she'll 〈◊〉 his Trade,  
With his Receipts what she can cure,  
The Will is proved, she must endure  
To take the shame, and leave the rest  
Her husband's sorrow is expressed:  
Of her Reply, she'll print a Bill,  
To blaze her Art, and hide her ill.   

I Went forth right and saw within my Round  
A great physician; but he was not sound.  
His wife was old, his promised love was dead:  
He shuned her company and loathed her bed.  
Although his love was dead, yet he did strive  
With all his Art, to keep his Lust alive.  
A young one he must have and she must be  
A married wife, that their Adultery  
Might be complete, he'd keep her in despite  
Of all gainsayers: through the devil's right  
He claims her for his own, her husband may  
Bewail his wrong; but can not find away  
To right himself, for they have both agreed  
To stand for Hell and Death: his heart doth bleed  
But they rejoice in glistering all their sins,  
To make exchange. Now Infamy begins  
To blaze their shame abroad: yet they do slight  
The breath of men; they will not break delight.  
But the physician (though his Trull was by)  
Did fall down sick, so sick that he must die.   

Now farewell all delights: Thou must endure  
The lance of Death, thy art can find no cure.  
But he had time to mourn before he died;  
Yet, in that time, his doxy from his side  
Would never part: his wife and Children may  
See him for once; but there they must not stay.  
He makes his Will, and gives unto his whore  
Half his Estate; his cast off wife's left poor,  
With all his offspring: Mourning she must have  
T'attend his corpse unto his silent Grave,  
Wherein he's laid; and there he must abide  
Past cure, until his second Act be tried.   

His Epitaph.  
THis piece of art that lie beneath these stones,  
Maintained a 〈◊〉, until his flesh was dried  
With death she 〈◊〉 the marrow from his bone:  
He broke his marriage vow before he died.  
He lived a 〈◊〉; but now he must  
Like paracelsus only deal in dust.   

THis half excextrix hath gained great skill  
she'll practise physic, to remove what ill  
Is gendered in the bladder: (she'll endure,)  
But Morbus Gallicus she cannot cure.  
She cures the stone exactly, with your pains,  
To help you to the running of the reins.  
All fleshly humours with her art she'll nurse;  
And last of all, she'll ease you of your purse.  
She'll car' her medicine home: with all of which  
She'll help her husband's head, and make him rich.  
And when the will is proved, she will begin  
To temper drugs, to counter veil her sin.  
She'll have her share: these goods were hers before  
And those she had for playing of the Whore:  
Some petty things she begged: whose are the rest  
The will declares: he swore he loved me best.  
I was his darling, should not he bestow  
His goods in love, where he most love did owe?   

But when she was examined by what right  
She claimed her Legacy, she did indite  
Herself for her offences: she was fain  
To bear away the shame, and leave the gain.  
The reason's found of his distempered mind,  
The lecher was bewitched lust made him blind  
No share but in the sin, that she can have  
Now she's gone weeping home if she can crave.  
Pardon for this offence, she will not miss  
To act another sin as bad as this.   

But when her Husband spied her, he began  
To' vent his grief: Alas! is any man 
the husband's grief.   
In my condition? Thou, hast broke thy vow  
Together with my heart. there's nothing now  
For me but shame and sorrow, till that day  
When gentle Death shall wrap my corpse in clay.   

Keep at a distance from me: For with fear  
My heart will bleed afresh if thou comest near.  
The Adulterer and his gold did ravish thee  
From thy dear Love; whose death hath set thee free.   

Then she replied: In vain your tears are spent.  
Did you but know the scope of my intent,  
You would not grieve: 't was not for want of love  
That I did leave you: 't was his art did move  
Me to embrace his love: I have a way 
the whore's defence.   
That when you know, you cannot choose but say  
My time was well employed: He and his Books  
Have taught me skill, to know men by their looks  
And what disease they have; and can apply  
To every one a present remedy.  
And I can keep them underhand for gain,  
And make them give me gold to ease their pain.  
To bring in Customers I'll print a Bill:  
I do not mean to barrel up my skill.  
If you do thrive, by whatsoever I do,  
You may forgive my fault and thank me too.   

Blush all you Birds of night I was't ever heard  
Among the Fowls, that fouler things appeared? 
maral.   
How are thy sins made snares? the World denies  
Thy breath free passage: the heaven's twinkling eyes  
Look through the veil of night: all things that be  
(Made loving friends) are enemies to thee.  
Dost mock thy Maker, that thou sellest the Truth  
To change thy Lover that should guide thy youth?  
When need did drive thee home, thou in thy sin  
Didst wrap thyself (by pleading) further in.  
And he that kept thee with his foul endeavour  
(Cast off his mate, which none but death should sever)  
Will find the serpent's eggs which sin hath hatched  
Among the brood; he'll then be overmatched.  
After your pleasures, you may feel the smart,  
Always together where you cannot part.    

SECT. XIII.  

Two Spawns from Earth, want stirs their crimes;  
A Damsel stole with borrowed rhymes:  
Her usage, he prefers a pink,  
A bed at board: being like to sink  
She makes her moan; what was replied  
By both; all favour was 〈◊〉.  
She's sent away, they grow more ruds,  
To vex her more they do conclude.   

WHen I perceived the cloudy seals of night  
Compose themselves against the glimmering light,  
(Those that did plot towards Hell, did make no stay,  
For all't was dark, they could not lose their way)  
With artificial light I did descry 
a scum.   
A scum boiled out of Earth: when he came nigh  
His breath gave warning: but it was not good  
H'was seen, felt, heard, yet was not understood.  
The kennel spewed him up; but you may rake  
For such another, till your hearts do ache,  
And lose your labour. Being drunk he reels;  
And if his guts were hanged about his heels  
He would not vex me. Stay; here comes his whore  
With open mouth; but ah ay she cannot roar,  
Because his cash is gone. He wants a wife:  
If you know any weary of her life,  
Pray wish her to him: money he must have  
To keep his Quean: then let the hungry grave  
Open his jaws upon her; what cares he?  
This Trull will serve for his necessity.   

Well, they must part a while, till he hath got  
One to relieve his need; and than the lot  
Will fall to her again. If he can get  
Some begging Poet, he will die in's debt  
If he will write him verses: but he must  
Keep it all private, not betray his trust;  
They must be called his own. His Love they'll break,  
Though he be drunk or mad and cannot speak.  
He has betrayed a girl, with much ado,  
That's honest, handsome, with a portion too:  
To a poor home she's brought. Within a while  
He brings one to compet with her, as vile  
As Hell and sin can make her; she will be  
Mistress of all. Did you but hear and see  
The passages, you could not choose but grieve  
For her, whose case, death only may relieve.  
To trick his Jade up fine, he spends her store.  
One night he lies with her, three with his Whore.  
She has her chamber furnished, and her meat  
O'th' best cut first; the Woman's fain to eat  
What scraps the Punk doth leave. Oh! most unkind!  
Then to her Husband thus she broke her mind:   

How have I bought my sorrow! This is bad!  
You drew me in to marry what I had.  
You keep a common Strumpet: How can I 
the woman's grief.   
Behold her but with grief! You set me by  
As out of date. Entreaties cannot move  
You from your ruin, to embrace my love.  
Death, do thy office: for I cannot have  
A fitter chamber than a quiet grave.   

With that the Tib o'r-heard her, and began  
(First to the Woman, then unto the Man) 
the railing Whore.   
To break her spleen: am I the mark, which thou  
Dost shoot thy spite against? Thou know'st not how  
To help thyself: but thou shalt find e'er long  
I'll be revenged, and make thee hold thy tongue.  
I'll have the rule of all: and make thee know  
He's mine above stairs, though he's thine below.  
We two are old acquaintance: and will be  
Kind and familiar in despite of thee.  
He's tied to me in love; why should not I  
Please him at bed and board? Wilt thou deny  
Our love free course? Be silent; or I shall  
Trouble his goods, and make him sell'em all.  
He's mine by promise: Shall I be controlled?  
H''ve ne'er took thee, save only for thy gold.   

What says my Chuck? Speak; Didst not thou begin  
To draw me with conditions unto sin?  
Now I am thine for ever. Let not me  
Be grumbled at by such a one as she.   

Let not her howling move thee: let her frown,  
Another time, I'll pawn her Tammy-gown.  
Then if she'll not be warned, this I will do,  
Sell her best petticoat; and then we two  
Will make a merry-day, while her fond breath  
Shall wast away with crying after death.   

He having matter lay about his chest, 
his reply.   
Which slept quite through his maw, along his breast  
Into his windpipe: When't had blustered long  
It shook his jaws, and seized upon his tongue,  
Which made him speak: I am not moved to cast  
A way my sweet; my love is tied too fast  
To be removed with breath: Though thou art pained  
Through fruitless humours, and the Law's have gained  
A part of what I had; I will not leave  
Her company, till time doth me bereave  
Of sense and motion. If thou still wilt nurse  
Such jealous fancies, thou wilt make me worse,  
Be ruled by her, and do not me mistake;  
Thou speed''st and farest the better for her sake.  
Doit think for diet I would be so free,  
Spend thus at home, but for her company?   

Then turning to his hag, he thus did say:  
I am no turncoat: I've devised a way  
To fit her in her kind: I'll send her down  
I'th' country to her friends: although they frown,  
What matter is't? expenses will be large,  
There let her leave her load: 'twill ease my charge.  
And when she's gone, we'll fell the household stuff  
To spend the coin; we'll have delight enough.  
When she sees this, and hears what mirth we had,  
Being wild before, these things will make her mad.   

Poor soul! thou'rt bought and sold! but do not fear,  
Thy Hell is all on Earth, their Heaven's here. 
moral.   
Thy sufferings will be short. Repent and pray;  
Thy next will be a sweeter marriage-day.   

Ye cursed blind-worms! if ye had your due  
Hell should be hotter made, and brought to you.  
You've wronged a harmle's soul. Your sins will be  
Changed into plagues and then you'll disagree.  
Thou Incubus how canst escape the curse  
That's laid below? and Succuba is worse.   

Your hateful brood being passent in their ill,  
Keeps off the Muses from my humble Quill.    

SECT. XIV.  

The usurer and Broker stepped  
Into a hole; how dried: Whore kept  
The rueful Court. A Witch descried:  
A devilish Lawyer in his pride.  
The speechless bell. A trap, two stroyes:  
A Beggar doth adopt two boys.  
The vaporing Rogues, new Traitors found:  
The Guards neglected in the Round.  
A Welshman's guilt much sorrow brings:  
Though he complains, his cousin sings.   

SO many changes in a night! before  
The meadows were like ●allet ●ugger'd o'er,  
Now change their party colours: and the Ice  
erewhile was proof of steel; yet in a trice  
falls in consumption: as it doth decay  
Engenders treacherous pits, which do betray  
My' nocent Babes. The Broker doth begin  
To try the depth; the Usurer steps in  
To free his Debtor. To be dried they went  
To white-cross-street. The Usurer had lent  
The Broker many a pound; and he (no doubt)  
Had lent upon good pawns the money out.  
This house had pawned him divers precious things.  
Silk petticoats, and Gowns, with Diamond rings,  
Hats, scarves, and dressings, handkechers of lawn:  
Their smocks in time of trouble went to pawn,  
To line themselves within. When trading fails,  
Poor tires Hackneys cannot pawn their—   

The Usurer is fearful (not of sin)  
Since Story broke, he'll call his money in: 
in Cow-cross.   
Yet, having seen the pawns, without abuse,  
He'll have gratuity besides the use:  
For feelings now and then, he'll be content 
the conditions.   
To tak'em here; forbear the money lent,  
So he be shot-free. Trading will increase,  
Seeing cutthroat huxters sue to make their peace.   

With that I met a man that rung a bell, 
the Court in Hell.   
Who thought the marshal-court was kept in Hell:  
Chief Officers were sunk; the marshal's brains  
Could find no grave: the Steward left his gains.  
The crier and the jailor, with the rest,  
Which to recrute their Den were judged the best,  
By Devils are preferred. How they agree,  
You'll hear more on't; for Web is gone to see.   

A Lawyer known, that died, of Lincolns-inn  
Appeared in sight, as living he had been;  
Who spit out hailshot: which did fall so fast,  
That made us run. A seeming beauty past,  
And kept her distance: as we traced the ground,  
His bell grew speechless: having lost the sound,  
So, damn yet still remains. And in a fray  
A Witch, Cat-like, did carr' his Dog a way.   

Than one that had been carted for a bawd,  
Complained she was betrayed: yet did applaud  
The plot of those that bargained for a Whore,  
And made her panderess to keep the door,  
Till Tostes came, from one whom she did sue,  
Who called her so; but could not prove it true, 
carting.   
Till sin conceived again; which with consent  
Made proclamation for her punishment.   

A man complete in habit, dogged a Whore,  
Ashamed to arm her: but he marked the door  
Where (fetching of a compass) she went in:  
He followed after; not ashamed of sin, 
dogging a Whore.   
So it be private. Sorrow meets with shame,  
To seize his person first, and then his name.   

With that I heard three voices sing with grace,  
The Mean, the Treble, and the beggars Base: 
the beggar's adoption.   
Two of them vapouring Citizens, both known,  
Adopted by the beggar for his own.  
He'll bring them up, that they may grow more vile;  
Let them but sin, and he will beg the while  
To bear'em out in't. Then this Grandy sings,  
A public Maunder; deals with private things.   

Still moving on, I heard a hideons' brawl;  
Their chief Commander had been a Corporal,  
But now cashiered: they swore and did protest  
They're Majors all; a Captain was the least: 
Major. Corporal.   
And so they pass, they live by theft; and roar,  
With sack-split-oaths: Each Vassal keeps his Whore.  
Horn was as great, though he in new-gatetryed  
The Virginals, till he at Tyburn died.   

But in a Fog, I heard a twisted breath,  
As though that sin and Hell had brawled with death  
For's 〈◊〉: but near the Dammee crew  
I durst not venture (as I lay perdue)  
Being twice in such (so like the Devils) hands,  
I bought distrust; I do not like such bands.   

Methought I heard these words; 
compositions.    

We have compounded for the blood we spilt,  
Which ran as roundheads; purged away the guilt  
By a confiding Oath. And now we may  
Without distrust, walk weaponed night and day,  
To find out Royalists, about the Town, 
bold Rogues.   
Upon Commission, pull the prisons down,  
To make a gallant party. If we please  
To raise a stock, we'll plunder, rob, and seize  
On any thing. Our projects being hid,  
Will better thrive then ever Waller's did  
With Roiler's wit. Our fortunes all are crossed;  
Let's swear each other: 'tis but labour lost.  
We're all made men, if this invention thrives:  
Or at the worst we can but lose our lives.  
We are despised. We may (our Father tells) 
desperate villains.   
Break faith with heretics and infidels.   

What sores may break when knaves are discontented?  
It's best to doubt, to have the worst prevented.  
Their water's low; they double in like shrimps:  
As witches are forsaken by their Imps.  
When Justice meets them; so, these twice sold slaves  
Are left by wrath, to vengeance-purchast graves.   

Then to the line I went, to walk the round;  
Where fast asleep a sentinel I found:  
I checked him thus; Thou art cyphered gin, 
neglects of the guards.   
To let knaves out with ease, and villains in.  
The guards were careless, with their matches out;  
Some drunk, some absent, others Marched about  
In grumbling postures: wheels, when wanting liquer,  
Do move as free, and turn about much quicker.  
They take a charge, but not discharge the thing;  
An old acquittance goes for Manwaring;  
A canceled bill, they pass in read's name  
They read their ignorance, and pass their shame,  
When folly's in the front. They love to look  
As did the tripe wife in her guilded book,  
Who could not read a word. But this they say,  
They do their duties as they have their pay.  
Their wages small; yet this their hardest lot,  
That sometimes they are paid, and sometimes not.  
The Master Gunners run so far in debt, 
neglect of pay.   
Their credits die. The poor Matrosses get  
Their poverty renewed. Ah! then thought I,  
The Stewards are unjust. Truth must not die.   

At my return, I found within the city  
A Welshman thus complaining: Was cret peete  
Her shod pee' Pused! By taffee wass not could,  
Her leck py Cownt-men, put in shink ap wood.  
Her Shentilman ap Wales, was take creat scorn,  
Her peticree was' print,' 'fore Prute was born.  
Was take it feree pad, ap all her Nation: 
the Welshman.   
Was born a Pritan ap te told translason.  
Her was ap Morgan, shinkin, 〈◊〉 shile,  
Was trug cret Muntaine o'er,' pove fife-score mile;  
Was see her cusse, trink two pot cud ale;  
Pe merree, kish her cosh: was tell a tale.  
Was learn cod Englis; her put take her turn:  
Shone was put ich pefore: put now her purn  
Was lose her silfar. Was her cozen true?  
Was say, her was ap leiws, ap shones, ap hue;  
Put her was lie. Was naty pag, pe bold;  
Was make her purn pelow, her, pove was cold,  
Was let her co? py shone ap Morcans solc,  
Was no cod fashion put her shink in hole.   

This brazen morter-piece, within the cage,  
Enough to fire a Town, bites in her rage;  
Yet she could gnaw the grates. At what he said  
Is no whit moved; but laughed: being not afraid  
Of whip, nor halter. When sh''ve chaved her tongue,  
Her humours dropped upon't. She sings a song.   

A SONG.  
1. Though lovers be in prison cast  
Or caged like birds, our pleasures last,  
To dress delights, a pleasing Theme:  
Which fool: ne'er know but in a dream.  
Fala, falare, fala falee;  
Tandan, tandare, tandan tandec.   

2. What though we chatter in the cold?  
One night cut piece meal, brings in gold  
To charm the lock; then we will flee  
Beyond the Welshmans Pedigree.  
Fala, &c.   

3. If windbound troubles, grievings move,  
We'll drown'em in a draught of love:  
And candy every lover's kiss,  
To purchase magazines of bliss.  
Fala &c.   

4. The pricksong warblers of the Spring,  
Our pleasing strains in Winter sing:  
While dull breathed fancies whine and play  
Sad Lachrymae and welladay.  
Fala &c.   

5. Let gold-worms mortgage ease and mirth,  
To rob the bowels of the Earth:  
Their Spawns will sacrifice, and cast  
Those drugs to Venus at the last.  
Fala &c.   

6. Conserving joys, we feel and see,  
As Schedules of a Jubilee;  
Make Stoics Dumb, our Courtlike plays,  
With silken credit guilt our joys.  
Fala &c.   

7. imped, lured by the noble race:  
Let Clowns that play at prison base  
Be mocked from pleasures: sense will find  
Though Cupid be, we are not blind.  
Fala &c.   

8 Fair daylight courts, as black haired night,  
Our private handmaid to delight.  
Though we are taxed, our love is free:  
And that's the Subjects liberty.  
Fala &c.   

The drowsy lethargy! which makes men 〈◊〉,  
Yet, Juggles laughter out, before they die. 
moral.   
Sinners have running gouts; though they rejoice,  
Their tone is like the hateful scritchowls voice,  
Presaging death. Their language doth foretell  
The doleful sounding of the passing bell  
Rings pleasure to the grave. Their ill-got gain,  
Like Traitors bribing death, whose menstroas stain  
Age cannot eat away. Their conscience sits,  
As Judge and Jury: while their dear-length wits  
Are charged with 〈◊〉. All their senses chained;  
As thieves before a 〈◊〉 are arraigned  
By one another: those that there are caft,  
Receive their doom, before the've sentence past.   

As 〈◊〉 in half-starved Garrisons, are beat,  
To drown complaints, when children cry for meat.  
Their lusts raise tumults, reason to control:  
Or parling cheat the hunger-starved soul  
With fond relief. As slaves their freedom sell  
To tug with 〈◊〉 oars themselves to Hell.  
And as they row, they spy upon the way  
Their sins by daylight, march in battle-ray.  
Where wrath's in commons, they arrive at night.  
Black vengeance, feed, sequesters saucy light.    

SECT. XV.  

A tailors shred plucked out of Hell  
Is trimmed, a Monkey loves her well.  
She's free to all; the Monkey frets;  
Her open shop: whom in she lets  
Are lost. But one whose nose is sunk  
Gets much in favour with this punk.  
Conceit of want doth make her swound;  
The gold all gone, they change their ground.   

O, This a busy night! who, who comes here?  
A shred plucked out of Hell! Can shreds appear  
In shape so like a woman, charming men?  
Yes, and bewitch them too, till Hell again  
Doth close upon her. Now 'tis open, hush:  
How came her Carcase to be wrapped in plush?  
She chop't for broken pieces, (being free)  
The servingman gave no such livery.  
Perhaps the flower that foreruns the Spring,  
For quick commodities might change the thing.  
'Twas Mistress Maudlin's gown: when she was fried  
For Morbus Gallicus, she did divide  
Her clothes about in parcels: this was cast  
On her at 〈◊〉' Bawdy-house where she dwelled last.  
A Monkey bred beyond Sea, full of lust,  
Found out this Apish shred: alas! he must  
Needs couple with her: married they must be:  
The foreign Beast is tied to misery:  
For when he had fulfilled his foul desire,  
The home-borned Ape grew common: and her fire  
Sparkles into a flame: Who will, may have  
This Hell, his Bier, to carr' him to his grave.   

Her fullness made her worse. She bends her will  
To taste and relish every thing that's ill.  
When he perceived his fate, thus he began  
To breathe his meaning somewhat like a man.   

What have I done? How fatal was my birth!  
I've traveled far to seek a Hell on Earth:  
Which I have found too soon. But ah! 'tis fit  
That punishment with grief should teach me wit.   

Did I redeem thee from a house of sin  
To make thee honest? and dost thou begin  
To treble up thy shame? Thou want'st for nought.  
I sold myself too cheap: but I have bought  
My cross too dear. Hell is not easily drawn  
(Unless a man will lay his hopes to pawn)  
To promise pleasure. I am laid at stake  
For shameand sorrow. How my heart doth ache!   

She hearing this, replied: Pray blame not me:  
It was your fault to seek for misery.  
I did not think but that you would consent  
That I might pleasure friends: you have content:  
You have your times; the choice of all my store.  
What harm is't then if I can pleasure more?  
You know what house I lived in: Did you think  
To have me free from sin? Did you but wink  
We might agree: If you'll have had me clear,  
You'd not have come to such a house; for there  
weare seasoned 〈◊〉. I cannot leave it now:  
I'll venture all I have, if you'll allow  
That I might have return, from French, and Dutch,  
With English too, that you may do as much.  
That will be quid for 〈◊〉: thou know'st my mind:  
Come, little Monkey, every Beast in's kind.   

With that he steered away, and feared no weather;  
But with more shame than ever he came hither.   

Now, come, my Customers; for I'll be free  
Of what I have. I'm set at liberty. 
free Trade.   
She's such an active Whore, to all that come,  
As if sh''ve learned it in her mother's womb.  
She wears out one; another, he is lost;  
A third's consumed; she jeers him for his cost.  
Then meeting with a shifter, who of late  
Maintained a nasty Whore, till his estate  
Was sunk much like his nose: and she had been  
Under the lash to suffer for her sin,  
Indicted, and arraigned; and then she fell  
To tune aloud the fourth part of Hell.   

He being fliged again, he chatters out  
Like to a rook in Spring: and flies about  
To find a place to build in; where he brings  
His new-found Whore, whose tail is full of stings.  
But there the nest is made, till he had spent  
His present stock, besides what to him lent.  
And now this Ape's grown sullen; she's not well:  
What, nor a place, nor lands, nor goods to sell?  
I want a petticoat, a bag, a jewel,  
Another thing or two. Such beasts are cruel.   

He pitied her, and answered with a smile,  
Thou shalt have those; but thou must stay a while:  
I've such a thing to sell: I know not how  
To sell't but with great loss, as times go now.   

He going forth, she drops down to the ground;  
Dissemblingly she falls into a swound: 
a swound.   
And being taken up, she hangs her head;  
Holds in her breath, as if she had been dead:  
Closing her eyes, and slobbering out her tongue:  
'T had been some hope on't, had she been so long.  
Her neck like tyburn's blossoms had been, if  
It had been long enough, or half so stiff.  
But hers was pliable, to turn about,  
Forward, or backward; all might find it out  
That 'twas but feigned. She was throughly vexed  
'T was done no neater: but she'll mend the next.   

He hearing of her fall, came in again; 
his coming.   
And when she was revived, she did complain:  
Ah, ah! unkindness! Ah! 't will break my heart!  
Alas, I love too much! the more's my smart.  
Unkindness kills me. Oh! my heart is broke!  
She dropped down tears like charms. Then thus he spoke:   

What, should I be undone? wouldsed have me strive  
(To humour thee) to dig my grave alive?  
Thou hast bewitched me. What he spoke was true.  
The Jade had her desire. Sh'was trimmed anew.   

Within a little time. The Land was sold:  
They laid it on a while, until the gold  
Was sent from whence it came: then with a jest  
She cast him off, as she had done the rest.  
She's taken up and coatched unto the bath:  
But still she's followed with a cloud of wrath.  
How she did truck in common, with what men;  
Perhaps I'll tell you, when she comes again.    

SECT. XVI.  

One vamped with plush, lives not in awe;  
Is found a lecher at the Law.  
A married man; four Queans he'll have:  
One very young, one tall, and brave;  
The third for wit: the fourth she must  
Be full of stuff to slake his lust;  
They live apart, for each his wife:  
One with his worship falls to strife.   

WHen in my search Queen Phoebe cast a blush,  
I turned aside and saw a thing in plush,  
As black as Hell: his lust was in the prime:  
He had a Gown (too long) did hide his crime.  
His wit was put to Nurse; his face was blue,  
And all his upper parts were vamped anew.  
His garbage kept him moist, because his 〈◊〉  
Was lately bottomed. Till his purse doth fail  
He'll wear a ruff, a full-crowned Beaver-hat:  
Loves he the Law or no? guess you by that.   

He'll give you words, as good as gold can make;  
Give him his way, advice he will not take.  
He's wise enough for Hell, pray let him stand:  
His practice of delight lies underhand.  
He's often distant from his native place;  
I'll show the cells he haunts, then judge the case.   

His wife and children in the country be;  
They hardly will believe (nor can they see)  
What Hell doth daily venture on his side;  
Nor how he bought a Whore; sweet Mistress Bride  
She must be called: He doth consume his 'state  
To keep her to himself at any rate.  
She's young and fresh, her hair brown, like a berry,  
And full of mirth to make his worship merry.   

A second he must have, that's full of wit;  
She gives him great content: for that is it  
That he stands most in need of. She is thin,  
Small, low, and active, with a milk-white skin.   

The third that he doth choose is very tall;  
Well joined, upright, her fingers long and small,  
With yellow hair, her eyes being full and grey,  
With cherry cheeks: This modest Quean will stay  
Her turn and never grumble. But the next,  
If he but break his day, she's shrewdly vexed.   

She's very fleshly minded; full of stuff,  
With greasy brawny limbs, and tongue enough  
To rail him to herself: as free from fear  
As honesty: but not from— stand clear.   

He visits them with papers in his hand,  
As though he came to state them in his land.  
He spends his time, his substance, and his life:  
And every one of these goes for his Wife.   

He takes a part, for every one a Room,  
Maintains them at his cost, and he's the Groom  
To each of them by turns. When he would have  
A laughing bout, the pleasant Wench he'll crave.   

When he would hear new fancies, then he'll dwell  
With her that with her shame has wit to sell.  
When he to sin with silence has desire,  
The tallest bashful'st Whore must quench his fire:  
But at springtides, his lusts swell high: then she  
That's full ofstuffe shall have his company.  
Although a part their seized, they do forecast  
With joint consent to help him to his last.   

One of his Tib's, full of the lustful itch,  
Did kick and bite; I need not tell you which.  
He stayed a way too long; nor could she have  
What she desired: Though silence he did crave  
It could not be obtained. They fell to strife  
Till't was perceived they were not man and wife.  
theyare hissed a way from thence: But then her mother  
Does prove their bawd, the whisking is their brother.   

But tell him if you durst: What Law affords,  
Or violence, to make you eat your words,  
Shall not be wanting. But the common fame  
Is mounted up to blaze their sin and shame.  
The several Nests are found: now he must be  
Purged by the Law. But ah! the misery  
Is not bewailed: No means can give redress  
T' a man that's mortgaged to his wickedness.  
He keeps his truce with Hell. He doth bereave  
Himself of hopes: till Devils give him leave  
He cannot change his course: or till grim death,  
Age, want, or sickness doth attach his breath.   

Had he so many souls, as many lives,  
As he hath Whores, for his supposed Wives,  
He'd venture all: but is not one too much  
To lie at hazard for a World of such?   

Thou common vassal! what dost mean to do?  
Thy various sins, breed several Torments too.  
Thou canst not live here ever: thou must have  
To end delights, a prison and a grave.  
y''ave change of rooms for death, being dead alive:  
One room in Hell may easily hold all five.  
Though sin remains there still, there's no delight:  
Souls dwell with horror and eternal night.   

But where's the scurf of age, that is so vild  
To turn a bawd? and offer Hell her child  
Upon such easy terms? I would not ask,  
But that she has performed such a Task,  
That Hell seems innocent. What did she hatch  
A brat for living shame? then make the match?  
Her sense, her nature she doth now control,  
To give the body life, to damn the soul.  
Her shame is died in grain: why write I thus?  
She's fit for nothing but an Incubus.   

There is a Pander too; I'd call him in,  
But that he is so overgrown with sin;  
Being made an Officer, his humours swell;  
He'll curse and swear the devils out of hell.  
His counsel cost him nought: his sister's man;  
Call him but so, he'll swear but by her fan.  
I cannot talk with him, he doth so stink;  
Being parboiled twice, and overcharged with drink.  
I'll leave you altogether, till my Pen  
Be sharper set, and then I'll write again.  
If I should show her wit, how she will vapour,  
'Twould steal a way my time, besides a sheet of paper.  
Her outside now, shall satisfy my rhyme;  
I'll blaze her inside at another time.  
Look where she is, and view her in the light:  
Now I'll be silent, left I shame her quite.    

SECT. XVII.  

A young man's 〈◊〉, furies rise,  
His mother's ghost, her words, his eyes  
Disclose his grief: Into the fire  
They thrust his soul, the sinner's 〈◊〉:  
His soul returns, his mother's train,  
And whiter Devils come again:  
Some pull, some call, he sound his tongue;  
He was released, but 'twas not long.  
A Devil grave, feigned love expressed,  
More wantonsome than all the rest.  
Played, sung, and daneed; while he did pray  
The evil spirits flunck away.   

WHen through contempt and wilfulness to sin  
Man forfeited the day, he did begin  
To side with darkness: and to Hell he'd creep,  
Unheard, unseen, when Conscience was asleep.  
She leaves the charge to Cerb'rus; made no stay,  
But sends out strength to meet him in the way.  
Who marching on, desired sinful leisure;  
Because the way was sweet, and full of pleasure.   

But lusting mischief ever comes too soon,  
Unlooked for, in the morning; if at noon,  
'Tis concealed to the mind; or if at night,  
'Tis most unthought of. He should take delight  
To reckon well spent-time. But as he stands  
Expecting rest, as purchased by his hands,  
Death strains his senses. Ah! he must submit  
To death's pale Tenant; where the hungry pit  
Will keep him Prisoner. But I must indite  
A scene of dolour. Hell's broke loose to night.   

He that neglects his Watch, will find too late  
Terrors and fiends, assuming pomp and state,  
With Furies waiting on them. Passing by 
Furies.   
A hollow Cave, I heard a hideous cry:  
Come, let's divide the spoil; his bones are thine:  
Betwixt you part his flesh, his soul is mine.   

A masculine being past the third degree,  
And into manhood entered now is he,  
Yet never lived, unless it were to sin;  
Being frighted from himself, he'll now begin  
To change his course. If this black storm were past  
Which Hell hath raised; to Heaven now at last,  
He'd consecrate himself. The night, being dark,  
It cannot hide his grief: Hell light's a spark  
To blaze his crime in colours. First, there came  
His mother's Ghost, to gender fear and shame 
the Ghost.   
Within his breast: and threatening him, she said;   

Ah! thou art lost 〈◊〉 how often have I stayed  
Thee from thy ruin? Worse, and worse thou art;  
I was thy mother once: ere we did part  
I begged thy change with tears: but I was crossed  
In my desire. Turn, turn, or thou art lost.   

And many other spirits with consent,  
Did beckon from above; then out they went:  
But fear came in the more; for there he saw  
A troop of deadly 〈◊〉, who strove to draw  
(As they were gaping on the fiery brim)  
Him to the furious lake, or that to him.  
(But, Species sine visu) he believed  
His torment was begun; and still he grieved;  
Which made his wound more wide: his loathed bed  
Helps not his quaking limbs: his heavy head  
Hardens the gentle feathers: and his tears  
Did only show, not mitigate his fears.   

Then came the fiends, and snatched his soul away,  
Making a triumph: soon they cast their prey  
(As he conceived) into a Vault of fire;  
Thrust it with forks. This is the Sinners hire.  
Then to the Bed, a Fury brings a Bier,  
To lay his corpse upon: and now his fear  
Hath made him speechless: but his sense remains,  
To fold up sorrow. Who can judge what pains  
Hell gives in earnest! But the hardened sinner  
Knows what hell is: for he was the beginner  
Of Discord in the World; and he shall have  
A bed of sorrow, lower than the grave.   

I must not stray too much: my feeble Pen  
Must give account (his soul being come again)  
Of what the issue was. In this distress  
He watered his pale-earth. Groans did express  
The horror of his mind: he spied again  
His mother all in white; with her a train  
Of saintlike figures, pointing down towards hell;  
Then heaven-ward: he mused, but could not tell  
What speech they used. Of gleams they had a shroud:  
With verba sine voce, in a cloud,  
They vanished all away. But there remained  
The horrid Vision, which from hell was strained  
With strange deformities. A Fury called  
Upon him strangely: other would have hall'd  
Him from his wat'ry couch: Fear made him strong,  
And home-born danger help him to his tongue.   

Thus he in anguish said:  
Ye fiends of darkness! what have you to do  
With me that am redeemed? you shall not woo  
My soul with your enchantments, to embrace  
The motions drawn in hell. Although my case  
Is much to be lamented, I am free  
For mercy, as the rest of sinners be.  
This Book (the Book of God) may end the strife;  
My name is written in the Book of Life.  
Nor shall your 〈◊〉 remove me: I am set  
To keep possession here: and all my debt  
Is paid by him that gave himself to death,  
That I might live. From him I draw my breath.  
Depart, ye damned spirits: I have cast  
Myself for sin. I've grieved for what is past.   

Thus said, they quit the room. With that he raised  
His feeble 〈◊〉; and in his heart he praised  
Him that had bought his Freedom. But he spied  
As he went down, once more, his mother tied  
(But not from motion) in her winding sheet,  
He thought to gain his freedom in the street,  
But could not find the key within the door:  
Being frighted worser, than he was before,  
With lamentable voice he did begin  
To call for help; and than the key was in,  
By which he was discharged. And now he will  
Take notice of his ways to shun the ill.   

Now, like a Hart freed from the hungry hounds,  
Which won his life by swiftness, keeps his bounds  
Among the horned heard: he never goes  
At random by himself, for fear his foes  
Should sent him, bring him to the bloody knife;  
To dine with Corn he will not pawn his life.  
So, he escaped from hellhounds, cannot be  
Contented by himself: good company  
Is that which he desires: what was amiss  
He'll mend, as knowing 't was the cause of this.   

Alas, I have not done! You must excuse  
My wandering Genius: for my bashful Muse  
Did never see a Ghost. Pray tell me how  
Her Songs may rise to that 〈◊〉 sung while now.   

His spirits being settled, home he came,  
And brought a Friend; believing fear and shame  
Were banished from the Earth: but when his head  
Was laid upon the Pillow, than the Bed  
Seemed overcharged with the sinful weight:  
The walking Devils laid another bait  
To snare his soul. A Messenger from Hell  
(In his appearance grave) began to tell  
What favours he would do him: he should find  
His words all true, if he would frame his mind  
To keep him company. Then he begins  
To reckon up in order all his sins.  
And sealed them to the curse: Still when he spoke  
Hell gave a vent, from whence there came a smoke.   

His courage like to armour made of steel,  
Turned back th'assault. What horror he did feel  
Was secret to himself. He would not make  
His Bed-fellow afraid; yet he doth take  
Th'advantage to reply: And thus he said;   

Thy message is from Hell; I'm not dismayed:  
I'll have no aid from thee. Do, do thy worst, 
arguments.   
I will not lose my hope: 'cause thou art cursed,  
Thou'lt 〈◊〉 make me so. My sinful soul was bought  
From Hell with stripes: I by the Truth am taught  
To wait for grace; believe, repent, and pray;  
Man by despairing gives himself away.  
Thy plots are vain. Thou cursed Fiend, be gone:  
I am a child of promise, thou art none.  
Thou go'st but under bail: Thou'lt shortly be  
Imprisoned to eternal misery.   

When he had done his speech, he did perceive  
Th'Embassadour of Hell had took his leave.   

But e'er sweet Slumber had his eyes possessed  
Or bridled up his thoughts, to silent rest,  
Hell sounds again: but with a smother theme;  
(She thought to take him swimming down the stream.)  
Of Heroes, Nymphs, and Fairies, in came store  
(Not shaped like Fiends and Furies, as before)  
With wanton postures, and with whorish tire,  
Unsavoury speeches, stirring foul desire  
In all their gestures. Some with lustful singing  
Strove to enchant him, while their Lutes were stringing.  
Then in a Consort, when their Lutes were strung,  
Naked about his bed they played and sung. 
Wanton devils.   
Dancing with nimble measures, seeming fair,  
And in their motions they excelled the air   

But hell's befooled again: for now his dust  
Is dried, and cooled with grief: and all his Lust  
Is to be freed from shame. Truth's common so 
Hell fooled.   
May well be fooled, when hell is foiled so.  
These words he uttered with an inward voice:  
You show me what I was (I've changed my choice)  
Not what I am. Away, ye hags! your spell  
Is but damnation varnished: for in hell  
There's no such music: Trebles give no grace:  
Their tunes are howling discords from the base.  
My music shall be praise (which I intend  
To sing in heaven) that shall never end.   

Hell has her own again, with labour lost;  
And all her Factors are as often crossed.  
They miss their ends; their prey keeps off too long;  
Or if they take it soon, it proves too strong.  
Nor can they well be rid on't: for the cry  
Calls help from heaven; so the takers die.  
Who can express the torment he endured!  
The passion of his mind being somewhat cured,  
He with his Bed-fellow did quit the room;  
Who was half dead with fear. They thought their Toom  
Had been erected there. Now out they creep,  
Both in a trance: as men which from the deep  
Half drowned are brought to shore; who musing then  
Will breathe half words; then stop, and muse again.  
But having gained their sense, strength gaining time,  
Their stomachs cleansed from the watery slime,  
They'll tell you of the shipwreck, how it passed;  
And of the storm, how they escaped at last:  
Just so these tired Partners do begin  
(Partners in punishment, but not in sin)  
To breathe their woes in parts: they make their moans  
In words, than sighs; but make it up in groans.  
But having felt their footing, they will tell  
What they escaped; how near they were to hell.   

Man sins, than suffers; sorrow, mixed with fears;  
Shame leaves him naked in the vale of tears.  
He sows disgrace, which genders unto strife,  
And runs through grief with cost to lose his life.  
Hell joins with heaven to revenge a sin:  
When she falls fcul upon us, we begin  
To feel the storms of wrath: and then we cry  
Help, Lord, we 〈◊〉 alive. But by and by  
(The tempest being calmed) we do repent  
Of our Repentance. Then we give consent  
To what we did deny: and at the last  
We do renew the score for what is past.   

The devils trace the earth; and where they find  
A Patentee for 〈◊〉; as he's inclined,  
So they can bait the snare. They take up shapes,  
With change of habit: as his fancy gapes,  
He's humoured for a time. They are not men,  
Nor women that are dead, that come again;  
But Devils in their likeness, to invite  
The heedless sinner to eternal night.  
Or looking home, they with despairing site,  
Shake him from his believing and his wits.  
Were they not chained, they'd take up all for strays,  
To trap our souls they have a thousand ways.  
I raised not Fiends, to drive you to a fright;  
theyare of my Theme, because they walk by night.    

SECT. XVIII.  

A meeting, and a costly Feast,  
The Meet, and sitting of each guest,  
Their Wines, their carriage, Healths among,  
They drown their souls, Pimp-minors' song.   

NIght sits enthroned in State, to seize a prize,  
" In darkest robes, whose objects blind our eyes."  
She clothed the Clouds in black, and did upbraid  
Bright Cynthia's gesture, cause she was a maid.  
She arch her screens with jet; the virgin Queen  
Could neither overlook, nor look between.  
Thus 〈◊〉 close, my Muse began to call  
A Poet up, to write her funeral. 
Fancies.   
Ill humours she doth cherish with her breath,  
She's both of a type of Hell, and Nurse of death:  
So, black with envy, and being swelled with pride  
Did shroud the stars in cypress; and devyed  
Her tempus in the middle: half her store  
Was left behind, half 〈◊〉 on before.  
She add put the Spies in prison: gentle rest  
Had 〈◊〉 some to silence; others pressed  
To hide their shame with sin, among the crowd  
Some sucked in poison, but I'm not allowed  
Fresh garments from the sky. I'm pawned in birth  
To show such Feastings, seldom seen on Earth.   

I do invite my Readers (pray come near)  
As lookers on, take heed, taste not the cheer.  
Those that are guests, love darkness; and do dwell  
Or near unto, or else belong to hell.  
The time's most fit, 'tis midnight; and the place  
Was used for burnt sacrifice; the grace  
Dropped from a Bawd, who did invite the guests,  
The bank did pay the charge of both the feasts. 
the order of sitting.   
They sit in order: they that took their heats,  
And temper most from hell, had the chief seats.   

The Bawd being old, and constant, and no waster,  
Served fourscore years, and never hanged her master:  
She's done good service, laying still her gins  
To draw them to, then snare'em in their sins.  
The major vote is, she must sit above;  
And next to her, the Haxter and his Love:  
He robbed before men's faces in the field;  
She cut the throats of those that would not yield.   

The common whore sits on the other side,  
Next to her Mistress: she has ne'er denied  
A motion, or an order from the Devil,  
To plead for sin, and tempting men to evil.  
The private Whore sits by her, and she saith  
She never scored upon the public Faith.  
Her Pimp sits next her, who did still devise  
New tricks to fetch her out, for studying lies.  
He did exceed the rest, to manage it,  
They say he has a Magazine of wit.  
The Pander for his subtlety, and pride,  
Sits equal with him on the other side.  
The thief sat close by him, the Out-purse Jade  
Sat over-right, that drove a double trade  
With men and beasts, the prodigal (their friend)  
His money's spent, and now the lower end  
Must serve his turn to night: when he for love  
Renews his pockets, he shall sit above.   

The Constable came in that us d (you know)  
To search above, and leave the watch below.  
The outworn lecher, and the drunken Gull  
Sat down together: now the table's full.   

Above they had varieties of meat,  
Some standing dishes, but not good to eat. 
choice of meats.   
They'ad Oysters pickled and the best Lavere  
Anchoves Woodcocks (which was dainty cheer)  
whose brains didmake them sauce, with ambergris  
And Mumma of man's flesh which cost a piece.  
With divers other dishes from the fire,  
Where Nature mixed with art, to breed desire.   

For those below, that could but Pimp and steal,  
Had butcher's meat, ram, Mutton, Hog, and veal.  
No second course; nor did these sordid Elves  
Desire fowl: For they were foul themselves,  
Yet they had tongues and hearts, dried, sliced and cold,  
With several sorts of wine, but some did hold  
That Viper-wine was best. Some loved the Red,  
Being likest blood; some that the Dragon bred  
And bears his name, all loved it mixed with sin:  
They'ad healths, and some diseased souls put in.   

Now, in their midst of Mirth, they drink the round,  
They may be bold upon the devils ground,  
Where every one must freely drink his bowl;  
And he that cannot swear away his soul,  
And drink his reason dry, and play the beast,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be bid to such a gallant Feast.  
Before they rose (though sitting over long)  
Pimp Minor came, and he will sing a song.   

My song shall relate, what pleasure and state  
What mirth, and contentments are in love,  
The world is at at rest, now how we are blessed.  
No sorrow can make us remove.  
In love we do agree, 
Pimp Minors Song.   
And who so merry as we.   

Black night is our Bawd; and Fates do applaud  
Our happiness: Heavens consent,  
To mask up the moon, least coming too soon  
Prove treacherous to 〈◊〉 content.  
Our pleasures do all agree.  
And who so merry as we?   

This delicate Feast, and every guest  
Still praised shall be with Delight:  
there's nothing but day, can fright us away:  
Let's honour the goddess of night,  
That doth with us agree.  
And who are merry but we?   

The searcher's asleep, nor durst he once peep  
To backbite our revels; again,  
If the rhymer should write of our meeting to night, With  
we'll vow to sequester his pen.  
With us he'll not agree  
But who so merry as we.?   

What need we to fear? the Constables here:  
Pale Envy is laid in her grave;  
Our drinkings breed health, & pleasures bring wealth  
And joys are the clothing we crave.  
With laughing all agree.  
Oh none so merry as we.   

we'll reap our desire, when lout is on fire,  
and 〈◊〉 of the pleasant dishes;  
What happiness can, be more to man  
Then so to embrace his wishes?  
Our love do thus agree,  
And who so merry as we?   

The scraps which we leave, let watchmen receive,  
When Brokers have 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
Now give me a Cup, and 〈◊〉 drink it all up,  
And the devil shall have the 〈◊〉.  
Who doth with us agree,  
Than who so merry as we?   

When they had laughed at this, some 〈◊〉, asleep,  
Fell on the ground: and some began o creep  
In private Corners, others fell to play,  
Some to their plots; while others 〈◊〉 away  
The neighbour's goods, but 〈◊〉 this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Was broken up, they had a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

Now like a herd fast by a River side,  
Had eat their Commons bare, but having spied  
Fresh quarters o'er the water, they begin  
To strive by force which shall go foremost in.  
And enter first the several: as they swim  
The proud curled waves assault them, every limb  
Is shaken with their fury, some do sink,  
Some beaten out of life upon the brink.  
The rest the streams leave prisoners in a Lake,  
Where death must set them free, none of them take,  
Possession of the Pasture. So, do these,  
Swim down the tide of lusts, although they please  
Their humours for a time, at last the shore  
Receives them breathless. Charon sculls them o'er  
Into the land of everlasting night.  
Nor Sun, nor Moon shall vex'em with their Light.  
Guilt, shame and tears will mingle with their sins:  
This Feasting's done, the devil's Feast begins.    

SECT. XIX.  

The Night doth quarrel with the Moon,  
The devils feasting comes too soon;  
How all was dressed, their staying long,  
Before they part they have a song.  
The Whirlwinds, 〈◊〉, the furious rent,  
Made through the earth, which way they went.   

BEfore bright Phebe did begin to steep  
Her shining body in the Atlantic deep,  
Or entered Latmos Palace, where she used  
To sleep with her Endymion; or refused  
To choose her whiter binds, her clearer eye  
Look t through the sarsenet veil, and did descry  
The folly of the goddess Night, who did  
Defend the fowls of prey, she'd have them hid.  
And spits ill language at the Moon, and looks  
Black in the face with pride. Her secret books  
Are sealed with pitch, as black as her apparel;  
Her rage breaks out; thus she begins to quarrel.   

Thou upstart, to antiquity a Fo. 
night's railing   
I am no light huswife; but I'll prove thee so.  
Go, go, thou Changeling, vex me not: must I  
Be subject to thy Check? must thy fond eye  
Be made the overseer of my trade,  
That had my birth before the World was made,  
And ruled alone? and but for thee still might,  
I change not colour: for my name's black night.  
I can do nothing private, now, but you  
Must ride above in state, and take a view.  
Of all my plots, as other roundheads do,  
Sometimes yo' are like a Round-head slit in two:  
Sometimes yo'are dressed with horns upon your head,  
Coming from Sol's or from Endymion's bed,  
Yo'are big with child; & looking pale yo'are shamed;  
Being loath to have it known, or have it named,  
You travel in the sea: and then you smother  
The babe ('tis thought) lest he should peach the mother  
That must be called a virgin, you in rage  
Turn men to beasts, and make an hour an Age,  
Bald time eternal. As your humours swell,  
The Seas must ebb and flow; if I should tell  
All that I know, 'twould keep you from the Feast,  
Drive down your chariot, quickly, to the West.   

She blushing glanced away. And now the cheer  
Is making ready, that must cost so dear.  
Here are no Sheriffs, nor hench boys, nor no Maior,  
Nor no churchwarden, nor none seeming fair.  
Forbidding Johnson's guests, both all, and some,  
Except the jailor, and the Sergeant come. 
forbidden guests.   
Those that are hard and seasoned in their evil,  
Will make the fittest Messes for the devil.  
Nor did the time agree; for 'twas at noon,  
And this by night, who 〈◊〉 away the moon.   

The devil being invited by a sinner,  
H''ve rather come to supper then to dinner:  
For then his work is done Nor did his haste  
Show any stomach, he but came to taste.  
And here he came unlooked for. Hear the cries;  
He came but thither choached, but here he flies.  
He was invited by the Cook, and had  
His man to dress his Meat; but good, or bad,  
He does it here himself. The place is fit:  
A vault, where souls do sink for want of wit.   

What hideous noise is this? what brimstone smell?  
What sparkling flames are these? their'e guests from Hell,  
In 〈◊〉 postures. Dreadful storms arise,  
Which dumbs the tongue, and deaffes the ears, the eyes  
Are dipossest. Strange fears possess the hearts,  
With dreadful horror in the inward parts.   

Of all the former Feasters, none can hold  
For furious burning; yet they shake with cold.  
The Prince of darkness, seizeth on his prey,  
Divides the spoils, and piecemeal he doth lay  
His choicest bits in order: some he boiled,  
And made him broth, and other some he broiled.  
The bawd he stewed, because she was so tough.  
The common Trull, before sh' was boiled enough  
He snapped her up; because his stomach ached:  
The haxter and his litter, hardly baked, 
his sure.   
Was chop't in after: rotten roasted Pimp  
Was swallowed in; and next the parboiled Imp;  
From whom he gravy squeised: which scalled his tongue;  
The Pander lying at the fire long  
Was dried away: whereat the devil vexed;  
And swore by Hell, what ere he met with next  
He'd make no bones on't. With his griping claw  
He tore the Cutpurse, and he eats him raw.   

A bone (being greedy) in his stomach sticks:  
And he perceiving, that the bloody flix  
Was like to take him; boiled into a Jelly  
The prodigal, to ease his rumbling belly.  
To stay the flux, the gull was neatly fried;  
The lecher gumed, being finely cut and dried,  
Was whift away in smoke: the smoking Cell  
Is found on Earth; 'twas used to be in Hell. 
the smoke.   
The Officer escaped, this once, ('twas late)  
For he may turn Informer to the State,  
And find out such Delinquents. If he can  
I'll have him put in Print, a gallant man!  
But this unwelcome guest, grown full, he groans,  
To broil the marrow out, he burned the bones. 
Bones burnt   
His train must eat the scraps, though he begins;  
The sauce was all brains, livers, hearts, and sins.  
Their drink was blood, but from the buttery hatch  
A little devil sprung, who sings a Catch.   

Never were Angels entertained 
the devil's song   
As we have been, to swell with mirth:  
we'll break the gaol where we were chained  
To lick up the honey and Cream of the earth.  
with hay down down, &c.   

This Castle, and the fare we found  
Have pleased our princely humours well,  
Lust leavens blood, theft tears the ground,  
To make us free trading twixt earthworms and hell.  
with hay down, &c.   

The scandalous priest, that lives at ease  
Who studies earth, and sucks her store,  
His state he spends his lusts to please,  
And a hundred a year to furnish his whore.  
with hay down, &c.   

I like the cunning cutpurse Jade,  
That 〈◊〉 twins of sin; if she  
Be questioned for her theiving trade,  
She'll swear he'd have ravished her, or 'twas her fee  
with hay down, &c.   

That gallant wench that lies at stake,  
To seize a prey, her Pimp made bold,  
Most quarrel with him, for her sake,  
She'll hug him, to save him, then pilfer his gold  
with hay down, &c.   

Our noble friend that keeps his pinks,  
Steals, pawns, and sells by common vote;  
And if his wife with sorrow sinks,  
He'll starve her, or kick her, or else cut her throat,  
with hay down, &c.   

Take pleasure, fear not sin, nor shame,  
You babes of Night, fly from despair:  
Joy, wealth, and praise, shall guard his name  
Who honours Diabilo prince of the air.  
with hay down, &c.   

Then having finished all; a whirlwind rose;  
The hellbred furies did begin to close 
the passage   
Divisions ranks, and files, and with a wound,  
They forced a passage through the trembling ground:  
But left a blast behind, resolves the doubts,  
That you'd believe that hell lies thereabouts.   

Are sinners torment proof, that they do take  
Delight in their undoing? who can make 
moral.   
The angry heaven's smile? or gaping hell  
Take bribes for souls, when lusts like Seas do swell  
Beyond all bounds? where furious winds do cast  
Those straggling torments, till they run their last:  
Which thirsty earth drinks up, or angry time,  
For their assault converts them into slime.   

So mortals do, pass reasons rules, and please  
Their senses, till a writ of little case  
Be sent from heaven, than their heart misgives,  
Whose 〈◊〉 one day, whose torment ever lives.  
Earth drinks their joys alive: and hell receives  
The slime at 〈◊〉, the trees, the fruit, and leaves.  
Are fit for fire, or like the fox, whose prey  
Is stole at night, but eaten in the day.   

This thief is so gentle, he makes his den  
A poulterer's shop. A Rabbit, and a hen  
Lie by his side: and at his back a goose;  
So thrives a while, at last the dogs get loose,  
And catch the crafty fox, his flesh is tore,  
His plots are are spoiled: his Cribidge stole before,  
Now 〈◊〉 for want of eating, Ah! methinks,  
Here's meat, sharp sauce, and yet my subject 〈◊〉,  
For want of seasoning, being piecemeal cut,  
Into the devil's Lardar they are put.  
Who plays the cannibal: and still he strives  
With black reproach to crown their dying lives.    

SECT. XX.  

To share their boungs, three Beggars meet,  
One stunk erewhile, but now made sweet.  
The second pass, the third 〈◊〉 treat,  
Their begging tone is not complete:  
The Rules to beg, on what they feed;  
Their Trade and triumph, how agreed,  
From all oppressions they are free,  
How merry they at parting 〈◊〉.   

I walked alone, my brain on Fancies fed,  
The man i'th' moon being newly gone to bed,  
My light was all confined within my breast,  
My ears were open, forward, still I pressed,  
Till at the last I spied a glimmering shine,  
And heard a voice, which made my Muse incline  
To tune her song anew. Three mandies did  
Divide their boungs: the matter should be hid.  
One had his nightcap brought him, and his ruff,  
His gown, clean linen; every thing enough  
To please his humour. He is very grave 
Accommodations   
His Leg's untied; his pleasure was to have  
His Crutches out of fight; he clears his throat  
With buttered-ale, to help his begging note.   

The others young, (a whipping bought his pass)  
Not borne a Beggar as the other was:  
He's changed from top to toe; he feels no smart  
His arme's restored, his sores were made by Art.  
But looking towar'ds the right, I did espy  
A doxy lately bottomed, which did cry  
Salva the King of beggars! let the rest  
In bousing Kenadoes be ever blessed!  
Then altogether they began to prate  
Of city businesses, of Church, and State,  
Where they should beg to morrow, such a place  
Brings in most coin, the other gives more grace  
To our endeavours: Fleetstreet shall be thine,  
Turn-style is his, the Temple-lane is mine.   

'Tis late, they must divide what they have got,  
There's but a Mark betwixt them: but the Lot  
falls double on the Seignor. I was fain  
To bring you both into a begging strain. 
begging tones.   
Yet, thou begest out of turn; nor canst thou cry  
With doleful tones, to move the Passers by  
To draw their bounty. Thou shouldst show thy sore  
To make their purses open: then our store  
Would be increased. But Tib doth beg with grace,  
She'll howl out, 〈◊〉 your Worship, make a face,  
To coin a groat at once: She's young in years,  
But old in cunning: her dissembling tears  
Will make a Usurer a penny spare,  
So in her prayers he may have a share.   

There's not a day, if once I sit but down  
But is a Noble-day: alas, a Crown 
daily gains   
Will hardly bear my charge! a dish of meat  
Would cast one half on't: many things I eat  
Which are not common: now and then I have  
A Pullet, and a Tart; sometimes a Crave, 
Fine fare.   
A pigeon-pie, a Woodcock, or a Goose,  
A Pig, a dish of Larks; let me but lose,  
I know what comforts age. Beife is but course,  
Veal's waterish, mutton gross, and Pork is worse,  
I cry and hold my leg, some labouring gull  
Gives me a penny, when my purse is full.  
When he (perhaps) hath not aishilling left  
To keep himself. Then begging joined with theft,  
There is no better Trade. I have excuse  
To save my money which I have at use,  
To keep my port, and credit to the last, his port, 
his Port.   
When all my merry begging days are past.  
How ever all the day I seem to men,  
When I come home, I am no beggar then.  
What e'er I ask, I have for my delight,  
My Table's spread with meat, my bread is white.  
A fire, slippers, and a Cup of Ale,  
Good Wine, well suggared, with a merry tale,  
To cheat the slow paced minutes: I am free  
From all suspicion by my beggary. 
the beggar's Triumph.   
Who'll seek for money in a beggar's house,  
The Proverb is, there's nothing but a  
Though I keep felon's goods, I'm quit from shame,  
The harmless Beggar is both old and lame.   

Come, let us share our boungs, thou must away,  
My entered Rogue! ten groats shall be thy pay.  
My little Gill, thy subtle antique tricks 
〈◊〉   
Gain four shillings, I'll have the other six.  
This parting Cup shall drown all care and sorrow,  
Chuck thou art mine to night, and his to morrow.   

As do the Snakes in Dunghills, breed, and thrive,  
And have their vents to keep their stink alive, moral.  
So do this brood of vermin, baske all day  
To suck the spoil; at night they part the prey.  
Those rotten Vassals, cannot choose but see  
They are the Drones which rob the painful Bee.  
To all that's begging-base they are agreeed,  
They're 〈◊〉 for the 〈◊〉 then for breed.  
They swarm like caterpillars: none can stand  
Before their mouths: they cover all the Land.  
They are the sores of England, which do run  
Almost past cure. Alas they have begun  
To bring the body low! let lusty Knaves  
Be whipped to work, and hampered up for slaves.  
Let Bridewells join to guard these begging whores  
Which breed like Mice, they are the greatest sores.  
The weak might then be kept, the blind and Lame  
'Pon Charity, our kingdom quit from shame.  
If they were dealt with, as they are displayed,  
In half an age those Rats might be destroyed    

SECT. XXI.  

Her, e Officers are guilty found,  
A Sodomite, a spy, our ground  
Breed Monsters, now, the soldier's punk,  
The Reformado shameful 〈◊〉;  
The ramping Dame one robs the State,  
The choice of pinks, the harlot's rate.  
To take a bribe, this cannot brook:  
Two Bawds twice burnt; a Frenchman took.   

When swarthy night had muffled up the Queen  
With clouds of darkness, sable vails, in spleen  
Were spread before the Stars; their twinkling light,  
Must look tow'ards home, accused by envious night:  
All Colours were alike; she seemed to have  
The glory of the world, bound in a grave. 
Fancies.   
The watch was set, the Court of guard was placed,  
The spies went forth, bold sinners were disgraced,  
Though masked with darkness. By & by they brought  
A rabble rout, that sold themselves for nought,  
To purchase hell on earth. A Captain came  
That spit out oaths; I must not tell his Name.   

A dam blade, for he will take't in snuff;  
He's daubed with silver lace, and clad in buff.  
But pennyless poor slave! the night before  
He had a Crown, but that he met a whore, 
A Damie Blade:   
That robbed him of his wits, to trade with sin,  
He to the bargain gave his money in.  
He was a plunderer, roving up and down;  
Just such a one would have betrayed the town.  
A thief in Office. Ever until that,  
This swash was judged to be a beggar's brat.   

But here's a Maior, that can keep his Jade  
At hard meat all the year; and drive a trade  
Of robbing by a word. This Country Votes 
Maior. Plunder.   
Can justify: but he will cut their throats  
If they complain. His Colonel's out  
And when he went, he cared his doxy down,  
Until his shame increased, and coin was spent;  
His Tenants plundered, cannot pay his rent. A Colonel.  
At Basing, Redding, or at Maidenhead,  
He drops his ware, and he is gone to bed  
Without his supper; having little ease,  
His brains, and cash are mortgaged for disease.   

But here s a woman, that is fain to stay  
In Town a while, to get her husbands pay:   

Ye died with wounds; and while she stays in town,  
She'll truck with hell, to bear her charges down.  
And then she'll leave: ere this she've changed her ground  
Her bawd has still a noble in the pound.   

Sir, her's a Sodomite, a soldier too, 
The Bawd a Noble in the pound.   
A damned Cab: that used much to woo  
An Incubus, and he will sell men's lives  
For pence a piece. He thinks because he thrives 
A Sodomite.   
That Hel's his friend. He must commit Incest,  
Or else a Rape, or bugger any beast.  
He's like the Dutchman, hell hath made so bold  
That ravished women, having stole their Gold.  
He's for the Subjects Liberty, and will 
a mad rub.   
Die a good Protestant. He'll only kill  
The King's ill wishers. Here's his only friend  
Has still three wives alive. And 'tis his end  
To take another, help him in this case,  
For all his wives are distant from this place. 
4. Wives.   
She must have means (for here awhile he'll stay)  
To keep him brave, till he can run away.   

What greasy piece is this? this is a spy,  
That has been long in service; fain to fly  
For Conscience sake. His company was lost  
At Edge-hill fight: was ever Captain crossed 
A conceited Captain.   
As he hath been? he was beyond Sea maimed,  
At Hoast-end siege, but he is here maintained  
For Information. He doth sculk about,  
In bawdy Cells, to send down news, no doubt,  
He has allowance: and his queans for nought;  
As for the running in the rains he bought.  
He's fiery faced; his company was raised  
Within his bosom: of ill spirits praised, 
hit Condition.   
He gives this Motto, (and he kicks at Fate)  
Au signior, Captiano, grand Souldate.   

A monstrous woman! to the guard we'll send her,  
A parboiled frow, and of the neuter gender.  
Who always waits to snare men in a gin; 
a Frow.   
And claims a privilege to make them sin.  
To beg sometimes, and otherwhile complain,  
Then breath out wishes; any thing to gain  
A moneyed guest. Oh! now 'tas found a spark,  
That's fledge indeed, a walking in the dark:  
The Jades are all too course: this frap must borrow  
A finer tib: they shall be paid to morrow.  
If Gill comes from the Knight, that did so seek  
To gain her love; she's hired for a week.   

Here's a common soldier, who was found  
At lechers base, within the devil's ground. 
A common soldier.   
He's dressed with rags; nor can he get his pay  
To clothe himself. He hopes to see the day  
When theft shall be in fashion: yet he must  
Eat, drink, game, whore; all on the common trust.   

Who's this, his trull? indeed forsooth I went his Trull.  
Down to the Army; with no ill intent,  
Only to see my friends; and use my trade,  
The marshal used me roughly; that he made  
Me leave the field; my Love and I to rest,  
Did think (in Winter) garrison was best,  
To ease each other: is it any sin?  
He pimps without, whiles I do work within.  
With Cabies we are suffered, day and night,  
Their plunder and their Wenches, mak'em fight.  
Pray marshal keep'em safe.   

Sir; here's a Reformado, who being drunk,  
He reeled about the street; and met a punk, 
A Reformado. a Belt pauned.   
Who had her waiting Maid; he took 'em up,  
In Druery lane; together they must sup;  
He's charged with eighteen pence; and then he felt  
Into his fob; but he must pawn his belt  
To free his heels. Did that discharge the score?  
His Sword had gone too; but 'twas pawned before.  
He'd take a lodging; but she scorned to swive  
Under a Crown, with any man alive.   

More nightwork yet? Oh, her's a ramping Dame,  
Composed with baseness, impudence, and shame:  
Pray, who'se your Clerk? thou lying paltry spy!  
Dost dare to prate to such a one as I? 
Impudence.   
If Courtiers were at home, and all the peers,  
I should find friends; thou durst not for thy ears  
Say half so much: for I took many a crown  
Of Courtiers weekly; they being out of Town  
My trade's low; but I was one that went  
To cry for peace, and thousands, with intent  
To force it on; and level all our Forts, 
Cry for Peace. Make   
To let the King come in. But false reports  
Make us Malignants. I shall live to see 
Malignant wishes.   
Our Fortunes raised, and you as low as we:  
Or higher by the gallows. Then we'll sing,  
Hang all the roundheads: we are for the King.  
Here's Impudence indeed!   

A man in Office comes, that's very grave,  
You would not think that he should prove a Knave,  
He has a trick unknown, to raise the rate; 
Parish Officers.   
I am jealous on't, I doubt he robs the State.  
He's like the Coleman, for he peeles the poor,  
And spends the Parish stock to keep a whore.  
Doth he convert our seasments into crimes?  
I wish there were no reason for these rhymes.  
No new-made statesman, nor no proud Priest can be 
Sub-Committee men.   
Close Patron, to this bearded villainy.   

A Sub-Committee-man? oh! let him pass,  
He rides in State; he'll call thee fool and ass:   

To question him: I doubt he is not right,  
I'm vexed to see him cause my purse is light.   

She second, met a Lady that was wise,  
Fair, young, and virtuous too, 〈◊〉 Husband lies  
Fined a D. linquent: but if she'd consent  
To be his Prostitute, he'd be content  
To get the charge removed: when 〈◊〉 come in  
He'll gain a Vote, make taxes, pay for sin.   

Another of 'em? he has laid his baits,  
To snare his partner, cause he hates deceits,  
And will not cheat the State; and therefore he  
Shall be sequestered: but this treachery  
Is laid to view: seized goods he would purloin  
Praised for himself: head pocket up the coin  
For's private use. Oh! how that Province grieves  
That must be subject to a pack of thieves!  
Wise Senators being in their choice deceived,  
Truth's in exile, and rights by trust bereaved.  
If public men, for private ends shall cope,  
And sue divorce twixt Charity and hope,  
Let plundered men fit still: poor soldiers cry,  
They may confide, until they starve and die.   

Here's Nul the neuter, that could ne'er abide.  
To draw his Sword: or stick to either side.  
But which prevails is his: and he will be  
A man of War, when all the world is free.   

A noted lechers found, that used to seek  
Varieties of sinks; for twice a week  
He must have choice; this Incubus is bred 
a 〈◊〉 lecher.   
Of Gomurs race, it is the maidenhead  
He aims at most. This vassals worse than mad.  
For Killegrue and Mints are not so bad:  
A committee of devils, chused him well,  
To trade by wholesale for the pit of hell 
strife    

What, three at once? two drunkards were at strife  
For this fine Trull, and she's a married wife,  
But leaves her husband. He that has most cash  
At any time, may have this nasty trash. 
most coin    

Oh here comes one, that will not take a Fee  
Of any man, but if they do agree 
trade free   
If he will send a thng to make her fine  
She loves her lust, she 〈◊〉 not trade for coin.  
Two charcoal bawds, being burned twice a piece,  
Did spread a net, and took a flock of geese,  
To pluck their Feathers, they to dress them strive,  
Some stewed, some roasted, some were burned alive.  
They wink at one another, with a grace; 
2 burnt Bawds   
Thee'l have their houses in an other place,  
A place of fame, betwixt them they maintain  
A Surgeon private paid with hellish gain.   

This Frenchman comes to night, to be a guest.  
Me been a Sowder, an wood nom been priest,  
Me feet for Anlish Croons: an wood non have 
The Frenchman.   
Tashentelman go goon, 'tis boon me crave  
Dat me 〈◊〉 pos; me none more sick been seen:  
Me non Malignant. Me been vor de Queen.   

See here you troop of foundlings; you are bent  
To please the prince of darkness; his intent 
moral   
Is to requite you, payments please you well  
youare all of the black Regiment of hell.  
You live without a soul, and you do make  
Sinful conceit your leader: you mistake  
To fall in love with ruin. Such a sink   

" Will venom paper, and 'twill poison Ink,"  
Is common reason lost? sense will be heard,  
With mournful groans: that hell will be afeard  
To stand before it: you'll with terror see't,  
Sin, shame, and torment shall together meet?   

Fraught with disdain, yet empty tubs, you sound  
Your misery possessed; but when you are bound  
With chains of darkness, and clost prisoners cast  
Into the gronndlesse dungeon, when your last  
Vapour shall vanish, who will stand for you?  
Heaven will despise you: Hell will claim her due.  
Before the Clouds grow black, turn from your sin:  
Or else 'twill call eternal darkness in.    

SECT. XXII.  

A Monster raised, that is espied  
And by a ragged bawd descried  
And pointed out, the monster i'll adds  
To justify the Life it leads.  
And blames that fowl, and all her 〈◊〉  
That roost with all for pence a piece,  
Provoking meats; this must be tried  
When that is to the gallows tied.   

BEfore the Queen of night, had made dispatch  
of her resignment, or discharged the watch  
Of Lanthorn-service, or the blushing maid  
Before old Tithon had her flags displayed  
Or fairer Venus had unmasked her face,  
To tempt the Shepherd from his warmer place.  
I to perform my task, did walk the round,  
And searched about; at last a thing I found,  
Which made me wonder: as it there did stand  
T would fight with man, or woman hand to hand.  
its face was like a woman's, but behind  
A seemed a devil of the better kind,  
It was nor man, nor woman, bird, nor beast  
It was bespoke of Hell, to make a Feast.  
It was a fearful Monster: no man may  
Without a blush behold it in the day,   

I did conclude at last, (I veiw'd its pitch)  
'Twas not a devil, but the devil's witch.  
'Twould rob, and steal men's goods, and cut a purse  
And help all them that could but swear and curse.  
Yet it had learned some charity from hell,  
For those that would believe, 'twould raise a spell,  
Bring in the mould-bred devils, call'em men,  
And help you to your goods and Purse again:  
But you must call it Mistress; and confess  
'Tis truly Divellfied: then 'twill express  
A serpent's love: 'twill swagger, strut, and roar,  
Save that the gender's wrong 'twould turn a whore,   

And Pimping is away it doth applaud,  
But being old enough 'twill be a bawd.  
'Twas fed with dainties (being puffed with pride)  
And something for a monkey left beside.   

It overcharged mine eyes. I turned about,  
And presently I found a woman out,  
Being poor diseased, and ragged, and her Crime  
Had made her turn a Bawd before her time.  
She spied that pampered Monster, and she ran  
To take the prize; she thought t''ve been a man.   

But finding 'twas a thing that did invade  
Her custom (coming on) to spoil her trade,  
She did disgorge herself; and to begin  
Thus she accused it of a Common sin.   

What mankind stuffed art thou? thou art in rage  
To lead the front of Sinners on the Stage.  
They say thou wast a man; but since the devil  
Made one part like a Woman, that thy evil,  
To all that see thee may appear: the rest  
Is doubled in thy shame to make a beast.  
Thou entertainst the roisters of the age,  
And highway thieves; each one a hackney page,  
Dressed like a Man: they domineer and roar;  
At such a price thou dost provide a whore  
For him that is unfurnished. But the rate  
Is always double when the Thief comes late.   

One that with friends, and Husband lives at strife,  
A broken Madam, or a courtier's Wife,  
A chambermaid that's wedded to her crime,  
Or Gentlewomen, that are past their prime,  
Starched o'er with painting, fitting them for vice,  
Out of the wardrobe suiting to the price.   

If any be in danger for his theft,  
Or any whore of whipping, thou art left.  
To fetch'em off: for at the Sessions still  
Thou brib'st the men, or else keep'st back the bill.  
(We know when Sessions is begun by thee)  
And for thy service thou dost get a fee.  
Thy Ruffians go in Scarlet, or in plush;  
Thy trulls in silks: There's not a modest blush  
Amongst them all. Thou, thou dost hide their sin  
And this the evidence that I give in  
Against thy knot, and thee, another day.  
Come, slash and Cut, hast any thing to say?   

Thou threadbare witch! what beggarly and bold!  
Am I thy fellow? I can hardly hold  
My tallens from thy flesh: should I deprive  
Myself of profits? any way to thrive  
I mean to use. How should brave hackster's be  
Preserved, and furnished, were it not for me?  
No low prised ware, shall come within my door;  
(She that will truck for sixpence is a whore)  
I company with Gallants, Lords, and Knights,  
And please their humours, to increase delights,  
I furnish them with Lasses: who dare say  
I am a Bawd to deal with such as they?  
I fear no Law, nor Prison: now and then  
I have been in; but I came out again.  
The Justices, the Jury, and the clarks  
Do know and favour me: the velvet Sparks  
Will plead my cause: Or any thing they'll do,  
Run, ride, make friends, drop down a piece or two.  
To make my cause run smooth: why then should I  
Fear or forsake my trade until I die?   

I live in pleasure: Cocks, Bears, Bulls and plays:  
Bring fresh delights. What sweet and merry days  
Have I enjoyed! Then dogs, and monkeys be  
At other times good company for me:  
I drink Tobacco, wine, but towards the shot  
I break a jest; but never pay a jot.  
Why speak I thus to such a one as thou?  
I've justified myself. I'll tax thee now.   

How does my spirit boil, to hear what trade  
Thou drivest for death? how every Common Jade  
Is entertained by thee? thy silly Geese  
Will dabble in the dirt for pence a piece;  
Thy half-faced frows will put a man to fright;  
They beg all day, and play the whore at night.  
they're sliced and dried: yet one of them must be  
Extremely modest; hardly won: for she  
Is tired at the Brokers, she must seek  
A penny more: she pays a groat a week.   

Another's soon persuaded, she will yield  
With words on trust: for in the open field  
She keeps a Market: there the vermin play,  
Who 'scape at night, she takes him in the day.   

The third is marked with reding: she will try  
(Tempt, fawn and call upon the passers by  
To come to Hell, if she can draw them (so)  
She burns them half a live before they go.   

The last lies to be cured of her curse;  
She'll deal wi'ye even hand, and spare your purse.   

She hath provoking means to stir up lust,  
One must be whipped with rods; another must  
Be beaten out of doors, and for his 〈◊〉  
Cool at the gates of Hell; 'tis hot within.   

Another's made a skullin: he must wash  
The dishes, and be knocked. and then the trosh  
Must kiss to make amends, until desire  
Is by degrees, converted into fire.   

The common cheaters when they take a prey  
Do come to thee by turns: (the more fools they)  
Thou canst not help them in a dangerous case!  
Nor at the Sessions dar'st thou show thy face.  
Who come to thee to night, the next be  
Hid in a hole, for fear when thou dost see  
A Gorget, that's for Cis; a handsome dress  
Must be for Gin; the waistcoat is for Bess,  
Being trimmed with stolen goods, their price is raised  
Thou art maintained, and hell and thee both praised:  
Thou art a bawd, a thief, an outworn whore,  
If e'er I come to Tyburn I'll say more.   

I was in hope the morn by this would smile,  
But 'tis grown darker than it was ere while;  
A tedious night! nor can I once forecast  
To ease my Muse, until the night be past.  
Those that do sin in State, do here foretell  
That they shall have the hottest room in hell.  
For those that live to sin, and sin to live,  
Shall find what Motto Death and Hell do give.  
They purchase pain and shame with greedy sinning,  
Whose life is death, whose end is death's beginning.   

Sin is at odds, I need not tell you how;  
Hell did agree, but 'tis divided now.  
She'll never yield, till she hath all she had;  
When she is choked, her Tenants will grow mad.    

SECT. XXIII.  

The devil with a Priestling meets,  
A soldier comes, the devil greets;  
He rails at first: the fiends unkind;  
How he in sorrow speaks his mind.  
The priest is charged, of his advice,  
How he did tempt the devil twice.  
Pandorssus tried, how he did woo,  
Casts off one Whore, and takes in two:  
The dreadful fight, the combat past;  
Their healths, and triumph at the last.   

NOw hell will sound a parley, before tshe'l beat  
Up her travail; or seem to make rereat:  
She musters all her forces, views their scope,  
Draws up the rear: in the forlorn hope  
The Prelates train was placed. She iounds again  
(The devil hath reserves as well as men)  
But light (though distant) scorns to stoop, or see  
Her issue join with this black Pedigree.   

The devil met a Priestling, where came in  
A bloody rustic; who had lately been  
A suitor to this fiend, that he might take 
The devil and a Priest.   
Men's lives, and plunder freely; who did make  
Him promise to that end: but, cause he fails  
Souldate grows mad, and at the devil rails.   

Have I been servant to thee many years? 
A soldier.   
And took thy word for all? as it appears  
By my success: nor did I fear to kill  
The innocent, being promped to what was ill.  
Rob, tear, swear, curse at those that did rebel  
A'gainst thy laws. 
devil.   
Just so do we in Hell.   Soldier. 
And so thou'lt serve me too: and for my gains,  
Thou'lt send black death, with torment for my pains.  
Is't come to this?  Devil. 
I pray thee tell me how  
Our Plots should thrive, if we should not allow  
False Protestations, with the breach of truce, 
The devil's plots.   
To cheat conceit? such subtlety's in use.  Soldier. 
Now thou dealest plainly, hadst thou done't at first  
I had been happy.  Devil. 
Now thou art accursed.  
We try all means your senses to invade,  
Sometimes we'll be gentile; but 'tis our trade  
To chain your reason to the breath of men,  
Who are our journey men: and now and then  
They send such Chapmen to our darksome cave,  
To purchase tombs with life, that loathed a grave.  
They can do more than we, being in request,  
Our names are stained; what is by us expressed  
Is put in use by Deputies. But we  
Work privately.  Soldier. 
Ah! to what misery  
Have I engaged myself! if Earth and Hell  
Combined against me, is't in vain to tell  
My cause to Heaven?  Devil. 
Ask this flattering Priest,  
That goes in velvet slippers; give a list  
Of all thy rapes, and he perchance may give  
An absolution; his conceits do live  
With wasteful hopes: being pregnant in his evil,  
He thinks in pride, to go beyond the devil.  
All Learning dwells in him: what falls beside  
Are but the concretes of his inward pride.  Soldier. 
You're comforters alike! thou didst begin  
A bloody Plot; and slily drewest him in,  
To be thy Executioner: and what is ill  
Is but the execution of thy will;  
Being of the horseleech kind, and mettle free The Priest tempts the devil.  
To take thy easy stamp.  Devil. 
He tempted me:  
For when the stubborn Scot did give abuse,  
To his Divinity, that was in use,  
Du nied the gudly bukes, he raised his voice  
In folio suddenly, and then made choice  
Of my assistance: when he could not prate  
His hunderts out; nor could retain that State,  
He vomits blood afresh: and then indeed  
I got an Office, loved to see men bleed  
As well as he; and when I went to fight,  
I longed to have the Parson in my sight.  Soldier. 
How are poor souls deluded! that are taught  
By such to lose themselves! now am I brought  
For sale to Death. The trembling Earth doth gape  
To let me down; and would commit a rape  
Upon my reason too; the shivering air  
Benumbs my senses, but then, black despair  
Revives my grief again: the saucy wind,  
That's quartered, with the anguish of mind:  
Makes earthquakes in my breast; nor can I tell  
Of one weeks' pay to bear my charge to Hell.  
Shame joins with terror, to increase my evil:  
Oh pity me!  Devil. 
Ask mercy from a devil?  
I shall be made thy Gaoler, never look  
For pardon any more, now the black book  
Is laid before thee.  Soldier. 
Reverend Sir come 〈◊〉  
Oh now! or never quell the rage of sin.  Priest. 
Shake off thy dumps, and lose not thy renown;  
Had not the Service-Book been voted down,  
I'd conjure out this Fiend, do thou but fight,  
Defend our cause, thou needest not fear the sight  
Of men and Devils, if thou dost forsake  
Our blessed way, the devil will thee take:  
Well, be advised.  Soldier. 
Away ye Fiends, away,  
You both desire my ruin, you'd destroy  
Me, soul and body, thou hast laid a 〈◊〉  
To catch poor souls, of which thou shouldst take care  
Thou limb of Antichrist, is this the rest  
Thou didst propose? thou'rt proctor for the beast,  
The devil tells more truth, I do defy  
A seeming friend, a real enemy.  
Go, changeling, go.  Priest. 
Can idiots understand,  
What's best for peace, and freedom of the Land?  
And such a one, as I be still to seek,  
That understand the Hebrew and the Greek,  
In ways of truth?  Devil. 
Ho,— ho, here's dainty sport,  
Because tha've been a flattrer at the Court,  
Choked with conceit, thy parts do raise the rate;  
I lived in heaven, yet lost my happy state.  
Thy fall is coming.  Priest. 
I had best be gone,  
This Fortune-tellers odds is two to one.  Soldier. 
No trust in clods of clay, let men address  
Themselves towards heaven, for their happiness.  
When this discourse was past the knot dissolved.  
A'crooked piece of filth that was involved  
Within a treble curse, came crawling by,  
And after him his trul, who used to lie, 
Pandorsus,   
To take him captive: many years they had  
Been jogging to the Devil, he was mad,  
To wed this tub of treasure, kept for store,  
Though lovely by contraries, 〈◊〉 befote,  
P andor sus now declines her, he has found  
At prison base upon the common ground:  
Two Punks new underlayed, and in his view,  
Male a the best of them, was vamped 〈◊〉  
And Furia had been bottomed, had not she 
His change.   
Been over dried near Smithfield, but if he  
Can turn old Querpa off, that he may have  
Those pretty pugs to drill him to his grave,  
he'll give a double fine: it is agreed,  
That he shall work for death, and he'll make speed,  
Left hell should be too full, before his lust,  
Commits his rotten carcase to the dust.  
Well, now the wantons meet, and Querpa sees  
That Furia had his heart, and Maleas fees,  
Were fruits of pleasure, she advanced her tongue,  
Would you engross my dear? I've had him long,  
Above these fifth n years, and I will claim  
Priority in trust, it is my aim,  
Still to enjoy my sweet.  Furia. 
What needst thou move?  
Malea and I are partners in his love,  
He works, and brings us gains, he'ad rather pive  
And press his hart, than we should want for coinc,  Querpa. 
I cannot hold my hands, I'll have thy nose,  
And tear thy eyes out, such a pair as those,  
Bewitch my joy! these 〈◊〉 birds of prey,  
May chatter charms and doetheir work by day:  
I vow I'll make you pack.  Malea. 
I'll vex her more,  
Here are the clothes which yesterday he wore,  
Left as the pledges of his free intent 
〈◊〉   
To wait on us in lovely merriment:  
What ere he hath is ours, his daughter now  
Gets nought from him, but what we do allow.  
Chuck? Chuck is right.  Pander. 
Ha, if you find meflinch,  
Then blame me, no, I scorn to stir an inch  
From what I promise: Querpa, you are old,  
Tuf, dry, unactive, sense conjealjd with cold:  
Go, trudgeto feeble Dick: for I have made  
My choice a new.  Querpa. 
I am no outworn jade.  
Thou Varlet of the tub! I'll make thy name  
A common stench, thou excrement of shame!  
Chief in the roll of rogues, in Bridewell died,  
Twice free of Newgate, once to Tyborn tied:  
Deny my Love? How like an ass he stands,  
Come once again into the hangman's hands, 
A fight.   
he'll choke thy mirth. Impatient of disgrace,  
He tore her headclothes off, she scratched his face.  
But then his chieflings came unto his aid,  
He got the day, poor Querpa now is paid:  
For tongue tale scores being fled; the bonny three  
Drink healths in riumph of the victory:  
They reingage themselves, his valours known,  
Together with his love, they'll have it blown  
With th'silver Trump of same, that all may find 
The triumph Moarall.   
The rich born issue of Pandorsus mind.  
The devil breaks his covenants with men,  
When they are in a straight: and they again  
With one another in a frenzy fit,  
He gains his ends, because he has more wit;  
When theirs are frustrate. When the Hare  
To quarter freely where the hungry Hounds  
Keep rendezvous; or if the Partridge treats  
With angry Hawks about her choice of meats,  
What will the issue be? these did agree,  
That are discover, d here: but now you see  
How justice parts'em: if they do rebel  
In change of sins, how will they do in hell,  
Where plagues are crowned? for, there the hungry flames  
Are in commission; bodies, souls and names  
Must 'bide th' arbitrement: they need not fight,  
To make their curse complete. Day's turned to night,  
Where horror, (free from chains) doth gnaw the sore;  
Makes hope as blind, as reason was before:  
And greedy sorrow, feeding upon tears,  
Cender's despair, which ruleth over fears  
With inbred terror, born by helpless grief:  
Shame's no abortive: death commands in chief.   

SECT. XXIV.  

The servingman, relate what he  
Had known of's Masters misery:  
His Coach, Sedan, what Letters fees.  
He falls from satin to his Freeze.  
How sin brings death, the purchased strife:  
A Villain that betrayed his wife.   

BEfore the vails were drawn, or dimfaced night  
'Pon composition, would resign her right  
To Hesper's train, before old Tithonus' head  
Was raised with glory from his frosty bed,  
To show his hoary locks: nor did the day  
Peep through the streaked Tiffany, of grey.  
For Chantecleers Commission was not sealed  
To sound a parley; nor any way revealed  
To bring Aurora, in her silver pride,  
To storm the works of darkness: yet I spied  
Two silent walkers; one was much afraid;  
And I perceived she was a chambermaid,  
The other was a servingman: for he  
I soon discovered by his livery.   

He being stayed confessed he did belong  
To one that kept his coach when he was young,  
For Hackney ware, and feasted them in Town,  
And in the country cared them up and down,  
Who had at every stage, a common inn,  
Where he did put himself to sale for sin.   

He had sedans, which he did use to send  
To fech his Minions private, and did spend  
His means upon them: Now he paid his whore,  
When cash was low, he sinned upon the score,  
Sometimes he borrowed of a cavalier,  
That used to hire a Strumpet by the year,  
they'd feel his pockets pulses ere they'd join,  
And have their courses when he had no coin.   

They'd often be at odds, than he would curse  
The minntes of expense; his humble purse  
Did languish for his riot: she would rail,  
Because the suit depending on her—  
Was stayed with an injunction: high-courts writs  
Put down the Common-pleas, and bring their wits  
To bill and answers, if their orders must  
Be seeming prohibitions, to their lust,  
And stop their comings in, they'll sin the more.  
(Both orders and decrees were broke before,)  
Subpoena shame, their mischiefs to recruit;  
Again, at non-equity they'll try a suit.   

If any maid was handsome in his eye,  
he'd lay a snare to trap her, and would try  
With gold to win her, such a one as she  
Was made for pleasure not for 〈◊〉,  
he'll take a chamber for her, make her fine,  
And keep her at his cost, if thou'lt be mine:  
Thou shalt not want; most modest gives content,  
Another time she that's most impudent.  
He sends his pimping Letters, I must be  
His whiskin, else, we never could agree.   

Here is a copy to his Mistress which  
Hath spent him much, her fingers ofted ich  
To nim his gold, her answer I'll rehearse,  
But you may read, for they are both in verse.   

His Letter. To the Mistress of my Affection, at Her Chamber in the Strand, Mistress I. G.  
Sweetheart thou art my chief delight,  
I dreamed I was with thee to night,  
Since I have seen thee, time appears  
To me as five and forty years:  
I cannot eat, nor drink, nor sleep,  
But sometimes sighth, and sometimes weep.  
I'll freely take what e`re thou giv'st,  
The latter should excel:  
I'm thine while thou in credit liv'st,  
Poor, or diseased, farewell.?   
Till then thine, for pleasure. I.G.  

He's now declining, satin, silk and Plush  
Are turned to freeze: and yet he will not blush  
Though all men jeer him; he to gain his ease  
Will take some wholesome drudge, that his disease  
May be removed to her. A hellish wooing!  
For he minds nothing but his own undoing.  
He runs in debt, but never means to pay:  
Had I my wages I would never stay.   

His former bawd, because he lest her stew  
Comes railing to him, there`s a quarter due  
For retail dealing, and for common fees;  
He`s sinking now, and falling by degrees  
Down to his purchas`d place; where he will meet  
With course salutes: sin sifted from the sweet.  
I served another gentleman, whose use  
Was to defile himself; all foul abuse.  
He judg`d as gentle qualities, and when  
The damned haxters met, they were the men  
That could excel in vileness, drink, swear, roar,  
Or take a purse; and he that kept his whore  
At greatest rate; they thought these bloody times  
Would grant them patents, patronize their crimes.   

If any sought to turn him from the sting,  
A rounded knave! a Rebel to the King.  
Should not control him: he did ne'er deny  
His lusts a vent, his reason still did die  
To keep his curse alive: his soul thus tossed,  
Till credit, means, with man, and all were lost.  
Sin took advantage when his bones were dried,  
Put him a year in hell before he died.   

Another once I knew, that did a fact  
Which impudence did blush at; such an act  
Was never heard of; he would give a fee  
To one that should commit adultery 
A villain.   
With his own wife, and he would have at hand  
His Evidence with him, who there would stand  
To see it done, that he might freely take  
Occasion, that he might his wife forsake.  
And turn her off with shame, than he would find  
Content in wickedness: and set his mind  
To pimp for Venus, as I came along  
I heard a noise, but still a woman's tongue.  
Did carr' the sound away: she's one man's friend,  
And deals with none but him: yet in the end  
She'd trade with them by turns. Jack pays his shilling,  
But that he's out of Town, she'd not be willing.   

This piece was over-hat they fell to words,  
And then to blows; had not their state-bought swords  
Been bound unto the peace, they had not left  
Until their pates, or else some post had cleft,  
Their cloaks were put in prison for this crime,  
Their cause adjourned until a purging time.  
Is thy relation true, yes.   

Can pity here take place? then summon fear,  
That any men that are but inmates here 
moral. Should   
Should live like devils, pain from pleasure springs:  
Contempt from sinful sweets, a thousand stings  
Wait on the sinner's joy, and when they must  
Be kept close prisoners in the surly dust,  
They'll meet their rising fresh when they shall run  
To Mille Malis, which were here begun.   

Like to the fouls of prey, that soar aloft,  
Whose stomachs bribe their eyes: and seizing oft  
Upon the harmless birds, at last the Net  
Doth take them prisoners, where they die in debt:  
theyare pol'd like traitors, shame outlives their gains  
Who for example hang abroad in chains.  
So, these despised Vultures soaring high,  
Their pleasures are unwinged, they fall and die  
In debt to all the world, than who can tell  
Their misery, but those that come from hell?  
Fond dreams where Serpents are embraced for friends,  
Contracting torments when the fable ends.    

SECT. XXV.  

Strange stories from a Chambermaid,  
The Pimps employments are displayed,  
The Justice, Watch, the marshal's guard,  
Protect the sinners for reward,  
The Tavern pawns, a spy espied.  
Two sworn for hell, and how they died.   

BY this the night began to be in fear,  
The sweet-faced light beginning to draw near,  
To bring the morning in, with rosy dawn,  
With Officers in scarves of cobweb lawn.  
To raise up forces which did all resort  
To Phoebus which did scale the royal Fort.  
Without resistance, all within the line,  
Was repossessed with his glittering shine.   

Aurora raised, did send out many Spies,  
With scouts and trumpets, being full of eyes;  
With Ambuscadoes, who did 〈◊〉 creep;  
(The black faced Regiment being most asleep)  
They seized their works, and pillag`d all within;  
Kept those close prisoners, that had traitors been,  
To have their trial. Juno all in state  
Made Vulcan horn`d by Venus' advocate.  
The sentence past, they being guilty found;  
And Sol in pride riding the third days round  
Must see the execution, from the stews,  
Yet here`s a prisoner that will tell more news.   

Indeed forsooth I am a Chambermaid,  
When I was young I merely was betray`d  
With shows of gold, rich fare, and brave attire,  
A Gincrack like a Lady did me hire,  
To be as her companion, till she brought  
Me to her will; my honesty was bought,  
Sold for disgrace, all sorts were entertain`d,  
Who ever lost, of every one she gain`d  
That had but coin, if any one seem`d poor,  
She`d send Pimp Minor for a pocky whore,  
To fit his rate: if any Spark came rich  
She`d come in silk, and painted; if this witch  
Was not accepted for her wrinkled face,  
I must be trim`d to take my Mistress place.   

If two or three came in pimp Major must, 
Pimp Majo   
Take up some sinner on the broker's trust,  
To gain a double Fee: our rates were higher  
According to our beauty, and attire.   

She`ad skill to cure her guests, being over-hat,  
Or frenchifi`d; she had the more for that. 
The bawd. skill   
If lads came thin, she`d send her pimps about.  
To raise a Tumult; bring a totter`d rout.  
Before some tavern door, rail, swear and curse   

At one another: so they`d cut a purse, 
Plots   
Or pick a pocket; then they`d take their flight  
To rob some house, being always in the night,  
Were any of us taken in the dark,  
We`d bribe the Justice, and We`d Fee his Clerk,  
And 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the lasses Were in fear, 
Robbers   
When 〈◊〉 away, on May day was a year,  
About Long-Acre; Common stinking 〈◊〉,  
But they were freed and never had the lash.  
For justice nimis was their friend, and can  
Do courtesies: but they must pay this man,  
And parish Officers will them enlarge,  
Excuse their faults lest they should keep their charge.   

At other times, our Pimps would much frequent  
The shovell-bourds, the dicers, and they went  
To Ordinaries to gamesters, bowling places,  
To gain acquaintance, when they knew their faces,  
Thei`d grow familiar: so they drew them in,  
And made them tenants to the house of sin.  
Gamesters and thieves, that drink the full Carouse,  
Are the chief piilars or a Dawdy house.   

We'd tell each other all: who's best for play,  
Who, for the house, and who will freely pay;  
Who's pleasant for discourse, what slave doth grudge,  
Our common fees, and who will give too much:  
We'll now seem chaste, but if the golden crew  
Comes greedily, sirs, 'tis for love of you  
We break our vows, beliwing what we say  
they'll drop dust freely, when theyare gone away  
To jeer, or praise 'em, as we found 'em right.  
It is our recreation and delight.   

A Villain used our house that was accused  
For ravishing two children: he abused  
Them, as 'twas proved: hell's factor gave consent  
He should be freed, but damned the innocent.  
A wise man's case, (his bribes were all but fees)  
Fined, censured, and imprisoned, by degrees  
Being judg`d for hell, stood for his plaintiff sin;  
And walking on her junk she took him in.   

When any feared our wenches were not sound,  
The bawd would stand engaged to turn them round,  
But they must pay for 〈◊〉, if they will not  
They run the hazard, every one his lot.   

she'll name her golden guests, and make great brags  
Such gallants use her house, if one in rags 
Golden Guests.   
Comes to exchange a sin, and truck for shame,  
He came by chance, nor doth she know his name.  
If Court and term be here for every crime,  
she'll ask a crown, but in Vacation time,  
A 〈◊〉 serves, she as once a year new whores;  
Poor, sick, or old she turns them out of doors,   

No man dares question her, for devils do  
Grant her protection: being guilty too,  
They'll but disclose teir shame, the common watch  
Both harbour, and defend, and often hatch 
The Watch.   
Some of our brood, their profit lies at stake,  
And for the Constables and beadle's sake,  
They'll wink at small faults, hoodwink saucy Laws:  
And now and then a feeling in the cause  
Would chase our fears, some Officers at first  
Will lie in wait to take us, till their thirst  
Turn to a surfeit, what's the marshal's guard?  
If in their walks they spy us, a reward  
Will keep them silent. Many of them will  
Protect us, to be partners in the ill.   

We'd have them to the taverns, one of note  
Did pawn his cloak, and I my petticoat; 
pawn.   
Another left a watch, for want of coin,  
To pay the shot; their love they did assign  
To help us at a pinch, our time we spent  
Free from all fear, in jovial merriment.   

A greasy punk once in one house did lie,  
An Oxford bawd, first, than a Basing spy:  
A bawd to her own child, who came to town  
For information, walking up and down,  
She was suspected to be much in debt,  
And by a chance a sergeant with her met,  
And scraped acquaintance with her, being weary  
Arrested her, yet, she could not be merry,  
A new filled bawd, now grown an out worn whore;  
She 〈◊〉 a breadth, and went upon the score,  
Being begging ripe; but yet her bed was made  
In ample sort too good for such a jade,  
Out at the window in the night, by rope  
She stole away, the hangman is in hope,  
To find her shortly, he that do`s her see  
And bring her in shall have a double fee.   

She`s' black, and brawny, shameless, in the close  
She`s goggle eu`d, and ha`s a crooked nose,  
Her lodging is near Westminster, and she  
Haunts bawdy travernes, and where treachery  
Is most in fashion; now she keeps her bed, 
Macquiers head   
And drinks no sack, because Macquiers head  
Is taken from their plot, 'tis thought she had  
A daughter for her time was full as bad.  
But beautiful without, and yet within  
The devil kept a count; she sold her sin  
To him that bid most for it, or at least  
A Royalist transform`d into a beast.  
She took a Lady's name, her sinful leisure  
Is tied to one man now, but at her pleasure  
She`l change him for another; at the last 
hell's mouth   
The devil made a match, and ty`d her fast  
To one that did him service, what of hell  
He had which made him proud, and what befell  
Him at the last, is known; for in his pride  
He fought for sin, fell down, and so he dy`d.   

Her Epitaph  
This vapering spark sprung from an unknown race  
By Venus made a captain in the field;  
But Mars was angry, when he saw his face,  
A soldiers look, unhorsed him, made him yield,  
First he was pillag`d, after seiz`d by death,  
He`ad run away, save that he wanted breath.   

His glorious Minnon hearing of the chance,  
Being charg`d with sorrow fell into a trance;  
But when she was recovered, she began  
To tear and rave, oh! where's that man, that man?  
And shot a pistol in her side; her breath  
Was charged out, to let in sergeant death.   

Her Epitaph.  
She`s buried here that should no burying have,  
She sunk herself being overfraught with evil;  
Her lusts before did make her bed a grave,  
She`as quite undone herself to please the devil  
To meet her joy, she kill`d herself and fell,  
Where love is cool`d: but beds are hot in hell.   

You see vile actions spring from vain desires;  
Which in their meeting kindle furious fires, 
moral.   
To scorch the sinners: like the knats by night,  
They buzz, and fly about the Candle light,  
Being fearless of the issue; till by turns  
The wings first scorched, and then the body burns,   

Or like the beasts, that travel many a mile,  
One swinnes a brook, another leaps a stile,  
Some mir`d in a lake, some beaten blind,  
Some leave their hooves, and some their horns behind  
All will not free them from the butcher's knives;  
They buy those weary steps to sell their lives.  
So here are all diseases, which, if well  
Considered of, they might prevent a hell.  
Alas! they but increase it! now my might  
Must banished be; on marry with the light. 
54. Sect. of the first part.   
The sores are searched, my patient must endure  
Perpetual torments, or apply the cure.    

SECT. XXVI.  

What the aims declined by my muse  
What night-born subjects she doth use:  
The author's Charge; by whom 'twas penned,  
His answer to't, and there's an end.   

MY muse, scarce treats with any one that fights.  
For Princely crimes, nor of the new-made knight's  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 lands do lie, that should maintain  
Their worship's titles, or what number slain,  
To feed conceit; nor where they sell, or when:  
Nor those ignoble ones that came again,  
When riding pawned their trust, nor of the cursed  
Humours of such, whom blood must quench their thirst.   

Nor how our brave Commanders in the West,  
Have gained eternal fame; how they are blessed  
From heaven with success: but if I may  
Make truce with time, I'll view their acts by day:  
Nor hath she ransacked in the Cavies den;  
Nor touched the excise, nor Grand Committee men,  
Nor of those flattering rhymes, that can declare  
A coward valiant, knaves beyond compare,  
Nor of the false imprisoning of the just,  
Nor what in traitor's hands are left in trust,  
Nor of the torments which the Laws endure,  
How those make wounds, that should apply the cure.   

But chides with beggar buff, and charms the pride  
Of Major plund'rer; all that do divide  
The spoils of mem, bawds, panders, whores, and pimps,  
Thieves. Witches, sherks, the Devil and his Imps:  
Gulls, lechers, jailors, beadles, bribing Clerks,  
Buffoons, base upstarts, drunkards, swaggering sparks,  
That parley with lust, and for the devil fight,  
Make articles with hell, all found last night,  
Now laid in view: the fowls were hard to find,  
More hard to take; yet bats, you know, are blind.   

But, here's a swash, drained from this dropsy age,  
Who keeps his punk, attired like a Page.  
His second [rich] was husband to a Whore;  
He's but her x now, 'cause he's grown poor:  
A Bridewell strumpet [salt] being moved with ire,  
Tom ran away with all her whorish hire,  
Comes with them, railing, in whose hands Ispie  
My charge drawn up, to which I must reply,  
Partly engrossed by them; the rest doth speak  
From better minds, though ignorant and weak.   

What! malice sold in print? revenge is set 
The charge.   
To seize delight, to make us die in debt.  
Our sweet's o'recharged with envy: if we die,  
We'll wage the bill, and never will comply.  
Yet he may do us favour, to renew  
And teach our art, which many never knew.   

His practice taught his art, for which he gives  
To charge from sense, so Clavill peacht the thieves.  
He hath been bit, which makes his courage cool,  
Boys pays for wit, when they are whipped at school  
Can he court truth, doth heaven judge stews fit  
To teach men reason, modesty and wit?   

The Answer.  

Had it been malice, enmity or hate 
The Charge Answered.   
That moved my pen, I had not searched so late,  
To chide your sin, your misery unclothe,  
` 'tis not your persons, but your ways I loath.  
But wave it if you can, your plagues renew,  
` 'twas more for love of others, then for you  
That urg`d this night, let vices warning have,  
` Fore death doth salmon you unto the grave.  
If any from contraries do amiss,  
To feed his lust, and take a ground from this,  
Hell will but grasp him sooner: this no gin  
To snare tame fools, it is to scourge their sin.   

A wise man doth a strumpet's wiles descry,  
Allurements promises, and her bed whereby  
Poor simpleton is caught, than he doth tell  
Her chambers lead to death, her stairs to hell:  
This is my aim: th' Assembly of Divines,  
With toleration cannot charge my lines;  
To see a drunkard reel, or court a whore,  
Wise men will prize sobriety the more;  
And idiots shun the shame, when 'tis uncloath`d,  
Vice must be known before it can be loath`d.   

There`s no physician swallows poyson`d pills  
To help his art, he knows before what kills.  
If Preachers opening sins, (to break the frame)  
Did practise what they know, they`d preach their shame  
The guiltless man, is wise who better can?  
Describe the drunkard than a sober man?   

The thief`s convicted by the Judge that`s free,  
Who never knew the crime so well as he.  
To speak of what they gave consent unto,  
Or saw at large, is that which fools may do.   

These things you`l say are true, pray tell me how  
You prove them so, yet could not see while now?  
Experience taught you, bring me one that`s bit  
Almost to death, and now recover`d wit,  
I`d have his counsel in`t; but few there be  
That purchase wit by sin, but misery.   

Envy will quit me, she`s of this belief  
〈◊〉 ne`re was drunkard, beggar, sherk, nor thief,  
Though they are here displac`d, nor shall the rest  
Be charg`d upon me, 'tis your shame expressed.  
Some part is merely fanci`d; some takes sense  
From observation and Intelligence;  
Which I have dressed in colours, that it may  
Stop you from hell, or vex you in the way.  
Defence to those whom heaven and earth despise,  
Is more than needs, truth will content the wise.    
Good morrow.    

THE TABLE.  

1. THe preparation and the plots.  
2. The strange passages of the spy.  
3. The changes in returning to the sentinels.  
4. The slumbering Vision, and the accidents.  
5. The Officers feast, and hell's commission.  
6. The counter-panes of beauty and virtue.  
7. The devil's trade, and the Bawds profession.  
8. The 〈◊〉 full meeting charged.  
9 The black Courtier, the Rats and the turn-pike.  
10. The nature of sherks and shirking.  
11. The differences between Constables.  
12. The physicians foul disease, his will.  
13. The Scum and his Doxies triumph.  
14. The new traitors, and the Welshmans grief.  
15. The Shred from hell, and the monkey.  
16. The lecherous lawyer's varieties.  
17. The young man's dreadful vision.  
18. The bank feast and company.  
19 The devil's feast with them.  
20. The conditions of beggars, their rules.  
21. The examination at the Court of Guard.  
22. The Monster and the petty Bawd.  
23. The devil's dispute, and Pandorsus change.  
24. The servingman's relation.  
25. The chambermaid's confession.  
26. The subjects 〈◊〉, and the Authors Charge answered.   
FINIS.