MARONIDES OR Virgil travesty: Being a new PARAPHRASE Upon the Fifth Book of Virgil's AEneids in Burlesque Verse.  
By john Phillips Gent. the Author of the satire against Hypocrites.  
LONDON Printed for Nathanael Brooks at the Angel in Cornhill 1672.   

TO My Honoured Friend GEORGE WHARTON Esq Treasurer and Paymaster of his Majesty's Office of the Ordinance in the TOWER.  
Sir,  
THere is no man that puts Pen to Paper but has so much kindness for the offspring of his own fancy, as to think it may deserve some Charity, though it be but a Bluecoat entertainment. If men cavil at the subject, as perhaps some Paedagogues may for affronting their Classic Author) 'tis no more than if they should see Virgil himself now playing at the serious game of Irish, and by and by, turning the Tables, and trifling away a little time at the idle sport of Draughts. I know it is a rudeness to interrupt the serious studies of any person, but for the same person to take his own pastime is no ill manners to himself; though as to what relates to my defence, perhaps I may aver that he who reads the following pages may find so much of the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 intermixed, as wilperadventure turn ' emmore into a serious satire▪ then a jocular story. Let others think what they please; if these extravagant hours of mine shall have the happiness to gain your approhation, 'tis ' what I expect. The chief reason why I make this address to yourself, being, because I am fully persuaded, that he who has been so true a judge of Loyalty, can be no less a judge of Ingenuity.  
So I Remain Your Humble Servant I. Phillips.   

Maronides OR Virgil Travesty. LIB. V.  
WHile Dido in a Bed of Fire,  
A newfound way to cool desire,  
Lay wrapped in smoke, half Cole, half Dido,  
Too late repenting Crime Libido,  
Monsieur AEneas went his ways;  
For which I con him little praise,  
To leave a Lady, not i'th' mire,  
But which was worse, in the fire.  
He Neuter-like, had no great aim,  
To kindle or put out the flame.  
Both City dames and Croyden-Gillians,  
For ten mile round, were also fine  
At place prepared, ere clock struck nine.  
Young men and maids, Old men and babes,  
Lady's in Coaches, dirty drabs,  
In wooden-heel shoes, and shoestrings blue,  
With headlong haste came all to view  

For people loved gaping after shows then as well as now.  The fare renowned Trojan blades;  
And eke their solemn Masquerades,  
AEneas brought the prizes forth,  
Which were to be rewards of worth:  
A very noble Porridg-Pot,  
Two doublets very finely wrought  
The one half, silk, the other Canvas,  
Two flageolets, a Treble, and base:  
An Engine, which, if I don't err,  
Great Artists call a Nut-Cracker:  
Trenchers two dozen, I don't dally,  
The which AEneas in a Sally,  
Plundered from Tent of Agamemnon,  
There was no reason to contemn'um  
Though they were brown, yet they were good  
And purchazed with the price of blood.  
One of old Priam's greasy Hats.  
An instrument to murder Cats.  
The work of famous Aristander,  
Mathematician and Commander;  
Who fifty ways could Rats destroy  
And wrote thereof a Book in Troy.  
A Pewter Bowl enamelled rare; 
He that distinguishes well teaches well.   
Two Slippers, two, and not a pair;  
For one was mighty Hector's own,  
The other jason wore alone;  
The one was blue, the other green,  
Embroidered both with Gold I ween.  
A Gittern whereon Helen played,  
When very young, I mean, a maid.  
With many other Rarities  
To please the most ambitious eyes;  
The which AEneas liberal  
Exposed to view upon a Stall.  
AEneas first beat up his Drum;  
Then taking Trumpet with his 
‖ Here the Thumb is taken for whole hand.  Thumb▪  
He sounds a Levet Tan, tan, ta, ra:  
He blew with such a Si sa ra ra,  
Until he got the Piles behind:  
Behold the mighty force of Wind!  
And then for silence making sign,  
With Eloquence the most divine;  
Quo he, let us begin by Sea,  
And with our Ships commence the Play.  
The Vanquisher that shall command  
Shall be rewarded out of hand,  
With such a prize, as he shall say,  
And for a truth affirm it may,  
When he came out of Mother's placket,  
That he was wrapped in Mother's smicket.  
Menestheus, and there hangs a tale,  
Chose the good Ship, yclepd the Whale,  
Who when he came to Italy,  
First founded Memmion Progeny.  
To whose geeat deeds, if ye are not privy,  
In English read, or Latin, Livy.  
Gias a young man well descended;  
The next place strove to be commended.  
For he was strong and very Chuffish,  
And a great diver was for Craw-fish.  
Sergestus was the third brave blade,  
Who, when he came to Rome, first made  
The house of Sergius far renowned:  
Thence Galba came, an Emperor crowned▪  
Now this Sergestus shaved his head:  
For why? because his hair was red.  
But for the Ship he ruled o'er▪  
'Twas called, they say, the good Centore.  
He played all Games at dice all weathers:  
And Fowl devoured in their feathers,  
For knowledge was not then prepared  
To turn-pike up their skins with Lard.  
Cloantus was the next brave Lad,  
In Drawers made of Canvas clad.  
His good Ship was the Scylla named  
Himself for little else was famed.  
Only from him and from his Dame,  
They say, Seignor Cluentus came.  
These only were the Gallant Boys  
That strove to win AEneas toys.  
Not far i'th' Sea there stood a Rock,  
Your brains out sooner you might knock,  
Then move it, yet because it stood  
So near the Shore, they held it good  
To make this Rock Contenders mark,  
He that first touched it was a spark.  
AEneas full of wit and wile,  
Thought good to throw up cross or pile,  
T'avoid contention and more strife  
Than he intended; to be brief,  
The Galleys having took their place,  
The brave Commanders, each with face  
Like Lion's bold stood on the Poop,  
In one hand Brandy, t'other Rope.  
Quo they unto their Galley Slaves,  
As every one himself behaves,  
Here's this or this, take which you please,  
But this I think's most for your ease;  
I can assure you 'tis for mine.  
Then leaving Rope, take Brandy wine.  
That is, like Devil's row, not men;  
So I and you shall honour gain.  
With that a generous heat invaded  
Their braunie Arms with Oil bedaubed,  
And if their hearts went pit a pat,  
'twas only fearing they knew what.  
With speeches thus and courage spurred,  
They wanted nothing but the word.  
The signal given, to't they go,  
With Head above and Tail below:  
All at one time they make a start,  
T'ha seen it would have joyed your heart.  
I'th' name of ill luck see the slaves,  
How they do cut and slash the waves;  
How they do sweat! the more fools they;  
They need no Ushers to make way.  
In vain the Ocean yells and roars;  
You'd think'm rather Wings than Oars.  
And for the Ships— not many words,  
You'd swear they were no Ships, but birds.  
Have you ere seen on Wilton Plain,  
Of gallant Coursers three or twain;  
How nimbly forward each one pricks,  
While their thin sides the Rider licks?  
So through the Sea the straining Galleys  
Are forced for their Commanders follies.  
See how the oil of heated brows,  
Drops from their Foreheads on their Toes,  
Straight one the order breaks, and then,  
What says the man commands the men?  
You may be sure he says no prayers;  
But to be sure, devoutly swears;  
Row, row ye Rogues, row for your lives  
You'll please the Gods, and please your Wives.  
Row Devils, d'ont ye proverbs know?  
What Devil drives, that needs must go.  
The pleased spectators they behold,  
And each one wishes, as he would  
Have the cause to go. Here prayeth one  
For friend, there mother for her son.  
With various clamours, various cries  
They all bedin th'amazed skies.  
Fair Echo hearing such a clamour,  
Resolved to make one, as became her,  
Replying to the word Courage,  
Courage sometimes, and sometimes rage.  
Gyas so well his business plied,  
That he was got a spit and stride  
Before the rest: for understand ye,  
H'had been no niggard of his Brandy.  
Their heads were lighter by a Tun,  
Which made the Ship the faster run.  
Cloantus followed close a Stern,  
While t'other nails doth bite, and girn.  
His heel alas was heavier much  
A damned fly-bottom made by Dutch.  
The Whale and Centaur jig by joul,  
Swum very friendly to the Goal.  
But now these friendly Enemies,  
Men otherwise discreet and wise;  
Seeing themselves approach the place  
That gave them honour or disgrace;  
Now every one looks on his brother  
As if they could have eat each other.  
Have you ere seen upon the tiles,  
When Moon on tops of Houses smiles,  
Two great boar-cats, with sparkling eyes,  
Look each on other, while the prize,  
Grey Malkin, couches in their sight,  
So Trojans now brim full of spite  
Wish that the ships and men also  
Might rather to the Devil go.  
Or to the bottom of the Sea,  
Than that his ship should lose the day.  
Gyas who thought his Pilot steered,  
Too Roomie, and some byblow feared,  
Roared like a Lion; ye damned dog,  
Why so far off, keep close ye Rogue,  
Why Menetus? son of a whore,  
I say keep closer to the shore.  
But Menetus was deaf as block.  
For his experience feared a Rock.  
Which if the ship it once should justle,  
I'faith Sir Guyas might go whustle.  
Then Guyas in a fury falls,  
And yauls and bauls, and calls and yauls.  
Hei— Dotard, Pilot mine A—  
Hired by my foes▪ and that is worse  
My youth of honour to deprive.  
Close; or the Devil fetch thee alive.  
Soul of a dog keep close a shore.  
But Menetus would ne'er the more.  
Meanwhile Cloantus near at hand,  
Slides betwixt Guyas and the Land.  
Where Menetus had left the Shore,  
OH heavens! how Gyas then did roar.  
His choler boiled up like a Kettel,  
And in the heat of all his mettle,  
To Menetus he dings amain:  
He did not stand with serious brain  
T'advise if rashness were a fault;  
But in a moment, quick as thought,  
Griping his neck, as Poult'rers gripe,  
The necks of Turkeys, Hens, or Snipe,  
He plunged him headlong in the Sea,  
Sans compliment or other plea.  
Go there, quo he, confounded fop,  
Fit but to make the Devil a sop▪  
And now to fetch Cloantus up,  
He takes the Helm in his own clutches,  
Quo he, Hell take the slave that grudges  
To melt his grease or break his back,  
Rather than let my Honour crack.  
By this poor Menetus that swum  
Not like a stone, but like a Drum,  
Had made a shift, a good one too,  
To scramble though without a shoe,  
Up to the top of a small Cliff.  
No other Chamber, to his grief,  
He then could have to dry his hair;  
Each one of which might well compare  
To the best River in the Isle.  
His harry Arms he squeezed ere while,  
And filled at every stroke three pails.  
He frowned and scowl, and bit his nails.  
The people that beheld his fall  
Yet sorry did not seem at all,  
Could not but laugh when they looked up,  
And saw him on the peeked top  
Perched like an Ape upon his breech.  
They could not hear his raving speech;  
But judged him angry by his face,  
And twisting beard at his disgrace.  
By this advantage those behind  
That neither with their Oars nor wind  
Could hope before, now haul and tear,  
Thinking to put in for a snare.  
Sergestus therefore straining hard,  
Menestheus leaves i'the rear guard,  
Which he disdaining cries outwrite  
Ye cursed slaves, you row, you shit.  
You work as if your Arms were broke,  
Such scoundrel dog's the Devil choke.  
What Hospital have I dispeopled,  
For such a crew so damn'dly crippled.  
What Goal broke loose to vex my brains,  
With settered Arms and Feet in Chains?  
There go again damned rotten fellows,  
Good for just nothing but the Gallows.  
Well Neptune hadst thou been so kind,  
T'assist me with one puff of wind,  
Thou shouldst have known, deny't who can,  
Thou hadst obliged a Gentleman.  
But since your worship plainly shows,  
The little love to me it owes;  
And that I must be yet beholding  
To these weak slaves, I'll leave off scolding.  
Row on my hearts, men of renown,  
Redeem your honour and my own.  
This picquant speech so pricked their souls,  
That they renew their strength in shoals.  
The truants dry before, grew wet;  
All on a sudden bathed in sweat.  
Sergestus fearing they would rout him,  
With double fury lays about him.  
But woe for him in time of need,  
The more the haste, the worse the speed.  
For ill advised of a rock,  
The ship with such a wannion struck;  
Rash went the Keel, crack went the prow▪  
Some twenty Oars broke at one blow.  
Quo one, thrown off as he was rowing,  
i'th'th Devil's name where am I going?  
Two hundred men were flung about,  
As, Man had been but a dishclout,  
Like chairs and stools in Tavern fray,  
Here one and there another lay.  
Sergestus, more i'th' suds than Sea,  
Misfortune would not yet obey.  
But made'm go to work again;  
And fish the pieces out o'th' Main.  
Cheer up my boys, there's life in Mustle  
With that they kept a heavy bustle;  
And presently they got her off.  
They row and heave, and blow and puff.  
Sergestus danced a Sarraband  
To see his men obey command.  
Now you must know that in the nick  
Of this mischance, Menestheus quick-  
Lie had the Centaur overrun.  
And seeing now his business done  
Oh! are ye there, quo he, stick fast,  
Till I come back; I'm now in haste;  
Which made Sergestus backward pray  
For the misfortune of the day.  
While poor Sergestus thus embroiled,  
Against the worst of evils toiled,  
Menestheus heads young Gyas prow  
Quo he, hei— Gyas— what cheer ho!  
Where's Menetus? gone to Peg Trantum?  
Such pocky Pilots who can want'm?  
Gyas made no reply for grief;  
But there he stood just like Lot's Wife.  
His Ship like Horse without a bridle  
Made a great bustle, yet was idle.  
Cloantus strait he overtook:  
Cloantus that could hardly brook;  
Against his men he disimbogues  
A hundred Villains, Thousand Rogues.  
But 'twas in vain to keep a pother,  
When men could hardly hold the Rudder.  
Thus from hard fortune Heaven protect us!  
Cloantus' victor now est victus.  
Menestheus now with wind and tide  
And acclamations on his side,  
Went on without competitor.  
'Tis good you see sometimes therefore,  
To have the favour of a Whore.  
Cloantus seeing this abuse,  
Although what Seamen seldom use  
Yet in a case so necessary,  
From Custom yet resolves to vary.  
And though as mad as are March Hares,  
Composed his mind to say his Prayers.  
They say he made this brief Oration,  
Or rather sweet ejaculation.  
Ye Gods, that lodged in the Seas,  
Oft secure Vessels in distress,  
When overcharged with Hogsheads,  
And taking Rocks for featherbeds,  
They oft to him become a prey,  
That owes the Manor of the Sea.  
And likewise, that which never fails,  
You set your Arses 'gainst the tails.  
Of Galleys, when they want a wind,  
And blow'em forward with— behind;  
If by your aid my vessel slow  
Shall win the prize, I make this vow;  
An Ox shall be the Recompense,  
Of your Divine omnipotence;  
And then to please your appetite,  
That in Ragou's take much delight,  
The body shall be stuffed with parsley;  
The Entrails spiced, and peppered fiercely.  
And for to treat you as my Minions,  
I do assure you of Champignons:  
With this a present of Greek-wine,  
To tope your noses most divine.  
And as for Fish, ye then shall surfeit  
On Salmon, Codshead, Carp and Turbet.  
This vow attested with Cud— nouns,  
Made water in their mouths eftsoons.  
Immediately the Sea-Gods all,  
And Goddesses both great and small,  
To help Cloantus are agreed,  
In hopes so well to drink and feed.  
So by main strength they gave a shove,  
Or whether they the ship did move  
Some other way, that makes no matter  
But sure I am he got the better;  
Leaving Menestheus and the rest  
To follow him as they could best.  
Cloantus now in Port so safe,  
For Joy it made AEneas laugh.  
And after that he made a speech  
Which did the Company bewitch.  
And by a Herald did proclaim  
The worshipful Cloanthus fame.  
And then with Laurel crowned his head  
In token he so well had sped.  
Then from his pocket forth he drew  
A Leathern pouch, both full and new;  
And gave the Mariners, I think,  
Some four Dinars a piece, to drink.  
And farther for their present Cheer,  
He set a broach three tunns of beer.  
A Brigandine most gay and rich  
Cloanth to take he did beseech,  
Who though he then for joy did cry,  
To take the same did not deny.  
It was a very neat design,  
For it was full of Pictures fine.  
By graver wrought there might you read,  
The History of Ganymede.  
Fair Ganymede great Ioves Bordachio,  
Whose Chin he pricked with his Mustachio.  
There the young squire you might behold  
With hunting Javelin on his should—  
Ere, and you'd think he did pursue  
A Hart that fled, but neither true.  
Just in the nick an Eagle came,  
'Twas wild on Earth but in Heaven tame;  
Who being sent for his dear sake  
Takes perfect hold with Claws and beak  
And straight according to the plot,  
Away he carries little Trott.  
In vain his playfellows pursue  
The mighty bird, that swiftly flew.  
There you may see his Greyhound Placket,  
Seeming to keep a fearful Racket,  
Striving to leap into the Air:  
What noises he made ye cannot hear.  
And well it was 'twas but a picture,  
His howling else, as I conjecture,  
Cloantus might have made repent,  
Th'acceptance of his Ornament.  
The Painter yet did well t'express  
The Greyhounds love and tenderness.  
And Virgil too did well to show,  
That he what painting meant did know.  
A Cuiras shaped in Clouds of Gold,  
Menestheus had to have and hold  
To him and to his heirs for ever,  
They say a fairer was seen never.  
It was the Cairas of a Cap—  
Tain, that long since had the mishap  
(Mishap indeed) for to be killed,  
By great AEneas in the field.  
As fine as 'twas, it seems, the same  
Saved neither Master's life, nor fame.  
This Captain was Demoleon height,  
Now being slain bid him good night.  
The Cuiras it was all of Gold,  
For 'twas so heavy that to hold  
It in their Arms, nor Sagaris  
Nor Phegeus could endure I wiss.  
You'd have me tell you, who they be,  
No by my truth, I'm not so free.  
Two brazen Kettles he gave more,  
Two gondolas without an Oar;  
Of Latin made, and worth each one,  
I guess, about a duccatoon.  
As for who 'twas these gifts deserved,  
Virgil is very much reserved.  
And sparingly divides the store,  
To Cloanth, only, and one more.  
Our knick-knacks were more freely given,  
But how they'll get'm, that knows Heaven:  
Now they that were contented well,  
Were well content by the sequel.  
Which made them on the sands to walk,  
For Liberty to chat and talk.  
As they were making their preambles  
Of their achievements and their gambols,  
Repeating one thing ten times over;  
Behold! what is it they discover.  
Even Sergestus all forlorn;  
With broken Oars, and vessel torn,  
Making god-wot, a weak endeavour  
The Shoar in safety to recover.  
He looked like one quite broke at speirings  
After some twenty thousand swagger.  
For you must know he took't in snuff  
That any Rock should him out-huff.  
But in his passion came too nigh him,  
For Rock would not be hectored by him,  
Which brought him unto weeping Cross,  
More for the shame than for the loss.  
Have you a Serpent ever seen,  
With skin so pompous, blue and green.  
Taking his pastime on the Road,  
When on a sudden the swift load  
Of hanckney-Coach his chine doth crack,  
Tearing his kidneys from his back.  
There moves the Snake brisk at the head,  
But by the tail ill followed,  
So now the ship, in some part whole,  
In some parts full as washing bowl,  
And pinioned quite for want of wings,  
Of Oars I mean, or such like things,  
Instead of swimming, briskly rowed,  
Moves like a Tortoise, only towd,  
At length with help of little wind,  
(Thanks to the little gale so kind)  
And Canvas sail, (live ever they,  
That Canvas first did bring in play)  
With much a do she made the Port:  
Sergestus, looked ala-mort.  
However AEneas, good man he,  
Of poor Sergestus took Pitee.  
'tis thought there were some shavers there;  
Wisht'rather his, than their own share.  
Pox on't, quo one, would I had lost,  
I had saved my bones and yet got most.  
For for to comfort up his heart,  
And wash his tail all mire and dirt,  
AEneas gave him dainty maid;  
I mean a Nurse, whate'er I said,  
With too small Children at her breast;  
So she could be no maid, 'tis guest.  
This woman was Nurse Pholoe height  
She could both read, and pothooks wright,  
Her nostrel was so wide and plain,  
That you might almost see her brain,  
Though Cretan born, yet was she free,  
From lying or from thievery.  
Her face was something black and fat,  
And eke her Armholes smelled somewhat.  
She played upon the Virginals;  
With Castanets could dance at balls;  
She could preserve, and also starch;  
And so to other things we march.  
AEneas quitting the seashore  
Betakes him to a field; wherefore?  
Not so fast Tom; for you must know,  
The field was large and wild also.  
And Virgil says not to spoil meeter,  
'Twas like a Cirque or Amphitheter.  
There sitting on a piece of Timber,  
As far as I can well remember,  
AEneas that renowned widgeon  
These words did speak in language Phrygian▪  
My loving friends and dear assistants  
'twixt you and I there is no distance  
I come not here with tales of tubs,  
And therefore from your Nolberjobs  
Lend me your leathern Lugs I pray,  
And listen well to what I say.  
If any of you here will run,  
You may, if not, let it alone.  
Better occasion, friends, believe it ye,  
No man can have to show activity.  
Better employment to your mind,  
Where can your mighty Lordships find,  
Then to bestir your Lordly legs  
In running after Mumblede pegs?  
Sa, Sa, then come, make haste and strip;  
You know that time doth nimbly skip.  
As for your doublets, I shall watch'em:  
Hands nimbler than your heels must catch'em:  
And he that has a nimble thigh,  
Let him here show it by and by.  
For he that with his active pumps,  
Can put his enemies to his trumps,  
Or fairly win the first assault,  
The Cat hath still left in the malt  
Something which I as my great trust is  
Shall give to all with equal justice.  
This faithful promise being made,  
Their hairy bosoms soon displayed.  
The Trojans eke and mixed Sicilians  
That came to see were many millions,  
Or thousands, for what should I lie for?  
I fear I have erred above a Cipher.  
But they that Poets read you know  
Will never stand for a round O:  
But if they should, 'tis hard in my sense,  
To be debarred Poetic Licence.  
Which Poets claim as more emphatic,  
Than Conscience free to a Fanatic  
Euryalus, a youth most proper  
Shows all to Ladies but his Crupper;  
For he had nothing on but's drawers  
The first of Trojan clapper-clawers.  
My Master Nisus next appears,  
He had less shame, but far more years.  
For he had nothing but his shirt,  
Under his twist with knot begirt.  
His love was great t' Euryalus,  
A pious love, and not for buss.  
Diores next sprung from the Race  
Of Royal Priam, shows his face,  
With Helymus and Panopes  
Hoy day,— and who I pray are these?  
Why these were two rich Farmer's sons,  
Acestes great Companions.  
In fair, they hunted, in soul weather,  
They drank and played and whored together.  
Patron were next and Salias'  
The one a bold Arcadian was,  
The other an Acarnan brisk,  
To run, or cuff, or tumble whisk:  
But which was one, or which was t'other,  
Maro himself doth not discover.  
Why then d'ye think I'll tell ye more.  
Than I myself was told before?  
Yet this I'll say that Maro could not,  
Or if he could, I'm sure he would not  
From one was lineally descended  
The Croyden Butcher so commended.  
The other to make out th'intrigue,  
Forefather was of nimble Teage.  
Of all the rest we say but little,  
Since Maro spares to speak a tittle.  
All being thus resolved to run,  
Quo they, to great Anchises son,  
With guts discharged and bladders empty,  
Lo here ourselves we do present thee.  
Straightway AEneas sitting boldly  
On timber-log of which I told ye.  
By kind assistance of his tongue,  
Made'em, they say, this short Harangue  
He that of you shall run the best,  
By my dead Father three times blest,  
In no wise shall repent his bargain,  
For hear what I propose ye for gain.  
Two darts, both made of Gnossian craft,  
Of Ebony shall be the shaft;  
Feathered with Gold, which seems a Bull,  
But that I speak to men not dull.  
A Partisan of steel, but such  
An one, as you may make as rich,  
As any City leading staff,  
If you'll be at expense enough.  
To the three swiftest in the course  
I do design to give a horse.  
Though I confess, they have most need,  
That slowest are, of nimble steed:  
But that's all one, I'm bound to praise ye,  
And not give horses to the lazy.  
This horse shall have Caparisons  
Rich as the Queen oth'Amazons.  
There boys, there goes the hare away,  
And I think worth the catching, ha!  
His quiver eke, and eke his belt,  
Cut from the brims of a broad felt,  
Embroidered all with work of Gold.  
Instead of shoulder knot, behold  
A glittering Pearl, three times as big  
As a large hen's or a duck egg.  
He that cries hay— for our town,  
With olive branch him will I crown.  
The third shall have a morrion made  
At Argos, where it is their trade.  
I will not say how finely done,  
He's free to take, or let't alone.  
The signal given by the sound  
Of twisled trumpet, see the ground  
All in a cloud, and such a high one  
As wrapped AEneas like Ixion.  
Some said that sweat of heel and toe  
Would dust allay, but 'twas not so.  
For why to stop each ' others paces  
They kicked it in each others faces.  
Nisus had got by much the start,  
And as he ran, he oft did fart;  
Which much endammadged them behind,  
Having two foes, the dust and wind.  
For by this means he got before,  
Some two and twenty yards or more.  
Nisus behind, but far behind  
Ran Salius, like a nimble Hind,  
After him ran Euryalus;  
And close at his heels Helymus:  
Him Diores that was the last,  
Seeing'em all in so much haste,  
With malice now and rage o'ercome,  
Gave such a kick upon his bum;  
That through the pain of his Posteriors,  
He now gives way to his inferiors.  
Nisus was just upon the mark,  
But see how fate can prove a Turk!  
For just ith'nick, he sprained his toe,  
There lay poor Nisus crying, oh—  
He bowed so rudely to his toes,  
As made the blood spin from his nose.  
So there he lay as I have told ye,  
Swearing like a belfounder, boldly;  
When furnace cracks, and metals run,  
As if the Devil were on Dun.  
He saw the prize was not for him;  
Which vexed him more than did his limn.  
Yet though he lost his hope and glory,  
He had not lost the quick memory  
Of his Euryalus, so dear;  
For Salias' now coming near,  
He seized so fiercely on his shoe,  
That Salias' comes headlong too.  
Salias' got up, as mad as Weasel,  
Dings a good dust at Nisus muzzle;  
Nisus holds fast, and which is worse,  
●ets his cursed fangs in Salias' Arse.  
Nisus gripes hard, and rudely tears:  
●alias curses, dams, and swears:  
Nisus is deaf, and nothing hears,  
But keeps him there, spite of his ears.  
Euryalus, thanks to his face,  
Thus got the Goal, and won the race.  
The rabble shout, and tear the Air,  
Favouring Euryalus the fair.  
They that beheld the real truth,  
Nisus and Salius, Arss and Mouth;  
Cried out hay now for our Town!  
Hold Nisus, hold, the Towns our own.  
The second man was Helymus;  
And Diores the third, so close  
He trod upon his heels that day,  
Men feared a quarrel by the way.  
But as it seems, they were more wary:  
They'd other fish to fry, then tarry.  
Then Salius came with great complaints,  
Swearing by all his Gods and Saints,  
That they had robbed him of his fat Ox  
While plaguy Nisus seized his buttocks.  
Diores intercedes for him,  
As one he thought had lost a limb;  
That since his luck was like his hurt,  
He might have satisfaction for't.  
AEneas scarce refraining laughter,  
Yet as a courteous moderator,  
Come, come, quo he, cease difference,  
Ye shall have all due recompense:  
Therefore, quo he, as friends embrace,  
And kiss now in another place.  
And so the injury was repaid,  
With Morrion made like Lion's head;  
The ears and eyes were all of gold  
And eke the teeth, fine to behold.  
So rich that Salias' not denied,  
But he was fully satisfied.  
Then Nisus for to get comfort  
Presents himself all mire and dirt,  
From head to foot a Branford quag,  
About him never a clean rag:  
Now you may well observe, quo he,  
How my misfortunes vanquished me;  
And made me look so like a beast,  
For being nimbler than the rest.  
AEneas could not choose but smile;  
Grieve not, quo he, at Fortune vile;  
For here is thy reward; with that  
He gave him a most precious Hat,  
Of damask silk, it was notorious.  
For Feather and for work so curious.  
By Didimaon wrought so neat;  
Quoth Nisus then, by Mahomet  
I'll wear thy hat both morn and noonday,  
On every Holiday and Sunday.  
He lies in's throat, that shall miscall  
Our Captain, that's so liberal.  
The Race thus finished without squabbling,  
All anger laid aside and brabbling,  
The Racers well content and merry;  
My master's Time for none will tarry;  
So said AEneas, the Minheer,  
Besides, quo he, bring Cestus here.  
Now you must know what Cestus was;  
A plaguy Poultice for weak jaws:  
A little touch with a weak hand,  
And presently a man was brained:  
A certain cursed Castanet  
For men to dance the broken pate.  
Two Iron Brickbats, each a Ring;  
Which he that best can wield and swing,  
To pound his Adversaries Pole,  
Was vanquisher of body and soul.  
To this same sport, that so men mauls,  
AEneas his Companions calls.  
Quo he, the man that has the heart  
For a prize that is not worth a fart,  
To venture brains, or loss of lymb,  
Let him come purchase my esteem.  
The Victor's prize shall be a Cow  
With forehead plated you know how:  
With plates of silver and of gold,  
And linen veil about her should-  
Ers, white, and delicately starched,  
Like woman going to be Churched.  
Besides an instrument of death,  
Ecleped a sword, in Ivory sheath.  
And eke a Morrion, none oth'worst.  
Some said, he would have given that first;  
But then considering again,  
If he gave one he must give twain,  
They saw it was the wisest plot.  
For purse was his, the limbs were not.  
When any one is bruised enough,  
Quo he, and wishes to leave off;  
Let him while he his hands can use,  
Hold up his hand, or cry King's scruce;  
If hands be mauled confoundedly,  
Bid some good friend that standeth by.  
Thus said the Cestus was brought out  
At sight whereof like one devout  
They looked with settled countenance,  
The view on't put'em in a trance.  
So that for all his cunning coaxing  
None seemed to love this kind of boxing.  
At length not fearing Lymb nor torture  
Dares appears, a vast Wine-Porter,  
Who only could hold Paris tack,  
At this same play makes others cack.  
Who for to honour the memory  
Of valiant Hector had the glory.  
With this abominable weapon  
To knock down Butes like a Capon.  
The best that ever was at cuffing,  
Without a lie or any huffing.  
Amyclus vast in strength and burden,  
And always bred at the Beargarden,  
Begot this Butes on a whore,  
That was half woman, half a mare.  
When Dares did himself present,  
It bred a great astonishment,  
His shoulders to behold, all bones,  
As big and stronger than Millstones;  
His Arms were rather Bull-eonfounders;  
In Paper-Mills you see such pounders.  
Now the Goliah's strength was all,  
As for his brains they were but small;  
You would have laughed to'have seen the noddy  
To show his mighty strength of body,  
How he did vainly cuff the Air.  
Boreas himself did not come near;  
And swung about his brawny wrists,  
To show what he could do with's fists.  
And when h'had done, to see the Looby  
How ha' feigned to girn, like a great booby.  
Sa, Sa, quo he, what is there none  
Will let me break nor shin, nor bone.  
What ne'er a Knight that has a mind,  
To lose his eyes, and to be blind?  
This furious challenge was so dismal,  
That not a man would venture his mall.  
Trojans, Sicilians, all were dumb,  
As if th'had felt the weight of's thumb.  
Their Hector's now not worth a fart,  
As if th'had neither souls nor heart.  
Quo Dares, than the Cow is mine,  
To day how bravely will I dine.  
For who to Cow hath right more full  
Than I that am so like a bull? 
As the Devil said to the Collier.   
With that he took the precious Beast  
By both the horns upon her Crest.  
Bawling so loud, tell he was hoarse,  
Who of ye all now by main force,  
In hopes to eat a gallant supper  
With fist can Cow set on her Crupper?  
Chickens by jove, you handle Cestus?  
You kiss mine Arse. He●-Captain Festus  
(For so he called AEneas jeering,)  
Must I stay here all day Pickeering?  
As if I'had nothing else to choose,  
But here stand making children's shoes.  
Till some fond Caponet shall come,  
To be made Jelly by my thumb?  
Find me a match that will contest,  
Or let me carry away the Beast.  
At which one mad, what ails that fellow?  
What ails, quo he, that Bull to bellow?  
Why so much raving, so much tearing?  
we'll match his cock, for all his swearing.  
Acestes through the Rabble flung,  
As if a wasp his tail had stung;  
Cud boars, quo he, shall such a thief  
With pain so little get our beef?  
Fuming he goes to seek Entellus,  
Whom, of such language nothing jealous,  
He found stretched out upon a bank,  
Smoking jamaica, cursed rank;  

For interest will not lie.  Ye Logger head, quo he, is this  
A time to sleep and smoke, I wiss?  
When all our honours lie at stake?  
Pox o'your drowsy hide— come— wake,—  
And show how thou in times of yore,  
Hast cudgeled many a lusty boar.  
Hast thou forgot the pranks and the tricks  
Which thou were wont to play with Eryx?  
Eryx thy Master at this game?  
To whom thou second art in fame.  
Cuts-foot! shall daring Dares quell us?  
While we have living brave Entellus.  
How many spoils of Butcher's bones  
Of Weavers Arms, and Dyers stones  
Hang in thy Chimney up like bacon?  
Of thy renown the certain token?  
For shame then let not this wind-sucker,  
At our disgrace thus sneer and snicker.  
Quoth he, thy words are positive.  
'tis not for fear as now I live,  
That Dares thus I let alone;  
But I am old and feeble grown.  
Were I as young as I ha' been,  
This Rascal that makes such a din  
I'd pounce him so, that you should see,  
I'd make him soon cry me mercy,  
To Cow or Calf without regard,  
The slender motive of reward;  
Only for glories sake, ere this,  
I'had made him stink for fear, or piss.  
That this is truth ye know full well  
Yet that you may not take it ill,  
To show I speak not words, but deeds;  
I'll try one bout at Loggerheads.  
If I am beaten, say 'tis Age,  
And no defect of my courage.  
Straight he flung down of dismal battery  
Two fatal Engines, not to flatter ye,  
Nor yet to chafe your wanton Nerves,  
But for to stamp ye like conserveses.  
Little they said, meant plaguely;  
Their very aspect made men flee.  

More afraid than hurt.  Dares himself, to tell you true,  
Likt'em so ill, he looked askew.  
For they had on them fearful stains,  
Of Eryx blood, and part of's brains.  
Eryx who meeting at an Alehouse,  
With Hercules of's honour jealous,  
Straight fell to blows, from blows to knooks,  
The least of which would kill an Ox.  
What Eryx got by't, truly I  
Think he might well put in his eye.  
His eye! alas had there been less put,  
They then had living had the Toss-pot.  
Dares beholding such damned trophies,  
Think ye that Dares such an Oaf is,  
Quo he, to venture life in field,  
With weapons that he cannot wield.  
AEneas thinking 'twas a scandal,  
The mortal Engines needs would handle,  
But when he felt their weight, quo he,  
The Devil handle'em for me▪  
seven folded Ox-hides stuffed with lead,  
Some half a Tun in each, they said,  
With iron hoops and devilish nails,  
Such as you see about Cartwheels.  
Crossing himself, than said AEneas,  

viz his Goddesses.  Per omnes meretrices meas,  
What hideous Tartar with a vengeance  
Invented first these fatal Engines?  
Puh! quoth Entellus; these are feathers;  
Those with which Hercules strapt the Gathers  
Of my friend Eryx, (peace be with him,)  
And sent unto the Elysian frith him,  
Were twice as big, and yet the Lubbers  
Would wield those mighty Noddle-rubbers  
As nimbly at each others coxcombs,  
As they had been but little box-combs.  
For my part cries Entellus surder,  
I likes this well, I'm clear for murder.  
But yet to show I'm gamester fair too,  
If he'll have other, there they are too,  
I'll fight with any, ere spoil play.  
And ye shall cap me, as they say,  
If at a blow or two at least,  
You guess, not who shall have the Beast.  
Then cried AEneas drunk with joy,  
Troth godamercy brave old Boy.  
Bring me a pair of Maul cheeks hither;  
But not so heavy as the other:  
Others were brought, and after trial,  
Approved without the least denial,  
Both for their bigness and their huffing,  
By Doctors in the Art of cuffing. 
Belonging to Beargarden College.   
One takes Entellus; t'other Dares,  
Saying a hundred Ave-maries':  
For it had almost turned his stomach;  
Entellus shape did such a show make.  
Such shoulders, Buttocks, bones so hideous,  
A Chine so nervous, breast prodigious.  
For to say truth he nothing hid;  
Both shirt and coat were laid aside.  
If shirt he had, for else you know,  
What he had not, he could not show;  
And in matter of such weight  
Men must be cautious to speak right:  

Zabarel l. 200 p. 20000.  For if he had no shirt, and I,  
Do say he had, I tell a lie.  
But now behold'em in their traces,  
Making wry mouths and Monkey-faces,  
They dance Step stately to take aim,  
Who first should give the first damned main.  
At first they slightly seemed to skirmish,  
But straightway fury growing warmish,  
One gives the other plaguy pelt,  
Which was returned the next assault:  
Young Dares was more nimbly stout,  
Entellus was the stronger Lout.  
With weapons poised, and fists erect,  
With burning eyes and fierce aspect,  
They now lay on sans fear or wit,  
As if they cared not where they hit.  
Their Lungs are tired and breath in vain,  
Their naked Members pant amain.  
Such force have bumping blows applied,  
To Diaphragma, or the side,  
Secundum artem, as they knew,  
To make men vomit black and blue.  
Sometimes a loving blow did miss,  
Then t'other was not grieved I wiss.  
Straight you might hear his guts cry twang,  
And tother's skull ring with the bang.  
While all his reason takes her flight,  
't'had been no reason else, 
You might have believed him without swearing.  by this light.  
Sometimes with strokes struck unawares,  
They only rub each others ears.  
Dares with many a nimble leap,  
At old Entellus head doth skip-  
Unwieldy he stands stiff and tough,  
Without recoiling from the cuff.  
While Dares with a dreadful eye,  
Stood watching his huge Enemy.  
Woe worth that rib which he shall find,  
But once ungarded to his mind)  
As men that Walls and Castles batter,  
Seek weakest place to make'em torture,  
And having found what they intended,  
With all their fury thither bended.  
Mauling and battering their insistunt,  
Though th'had as good perhaps a pissed on't.  
Thus Dares watching still for harm,  

Harm watch harm catch  Caught from the bold Entellus Arm,  
Such a damned lick athwart the back,  
As made his very bum-strings crack.  
Dares, but how the Deviled 'twas done,  
Is past my apprehension,  
Returns him such a thumping quit,  
As for his quo, 'twas out of debt.  
These blows each equalled in stress,  
Some twenty pounds or little less.  
And Virgil says in his relation,  
That the through force and indignation  
With which Entellus struck and missed,  
His aged Trunk the Grassplot kissed.  
That he fell down all hands agree,  
Let them that doubt the truth go see.  
And more than that too a shrewd sign,  
They say he fell like mighty Pine.  
There lay the huge Entellus sprawling:  
For joy the Trojans fell a bawling;  
While he enraged at the flounce,  
Doth all his Gods at once renounce. 
Proud spirits had rather be damned than suffer disgrace.   
Acestes and AEneas brave,  
Both willing the old man to save,  
Where ere they had it, got a Crane,  
And so they craned him up again;  
Being got upon his heels once more,  
Six lusty Common oaths he swore,  
Though for his manners such a sot,  
That all his thanks he quite forgot.  
Having recovered now his place,  
With rage in heart, and shame in face  
Finding what ere he yet had done,  
But fleabites in comparison.  
Quo he, now let him look to his hitting,  
By jove I'll handle him without mittins.  
Poor Dares was in great dejection,  

Your strong men are not always the wisest.  Seeing Entellus Resurrection.  
He that before thought worst was passed,  
Seeing his foe so rudely cast,  
And therefore sang his nunc dimittis,  
Now at the end of all his wit is.  
There was no way but guard to keep,  
Better head been in's bed asleep.  
Tother lays on cuff after cuff,  
Not minding whither's skin be buff.  
His bended clutches damned Memento,  
Make flying Dares dance Corantoes  
Entellus bounty fell like hail,  
Not sparing either head or tail.  
Dares afraid his reason's house  
(Though he had scarce so much as goose)  
About his battered ears should tumble,  
Was half ith'mind in manner humble.  
To crave in time a Letter of Licence.  
He liked not banging sans defeizance.  
While t'other labours all he can  
To make a window to his brain.  
Dares was in condition sad,  
His face was swelled big as his head,  
His head was swelled as big as his hat,  
And he himself just falling flat  
Upon his bloody bruised nose;  
When all in haste AEneas throws  
Himself between the blows so thick:  
Good faith 'twas well he came ith'nick.  
For had he had but one more thwack  
Upon his head or his Sto— mack  
Dares had given the Crows a pudding;  
And Death had come before his Wedding.  
For now Entellus Claws were up,  
And falling just was fatal swop.  
But just in time AEneas spruce,  
And brave Acestes cried, King's scruce.  
With coaxing words AEneas mellows  
The bloody heart of vexed Entellus.  

Good words appease wrath.  Good Sir quo, he your wrath forbear,  
Man stout at Cuffs, as ere stole Dear,  
Next time shall Dares learn more manners  
Than let his wits be his Trappanners,  
Thus to provoke a man whose wrists  
Can powder Rocks of Amethists;  
With nails like fleas crack Adamants;  
And puff down Armed Elephants.  
These gentle words made Gaffer Thwacksides  
Most patiently lay by his Ox-hides.  
Such credit had AEneas there,  
Quo he, your will be done Menheire.  
Then Sir AEneas, turning face  
To him that was in doubtful case;  
So bruised and battered, and so swelled,  
(He scarce could stand unless upheld)  
Made him to the best of my memory,  
This pithy speech consolatory.  
Holding him gently in his arms,  
Quo he thou needs not others harms,  
For well thy own, without a book,  
Now teach thee with both eyes to look  
Before thou leap'st, and not to venture,  
Before thou knewest thy bold Attempter.  
Had not thy Foe been very handsome,  
He had destroyed thee without Ransom.  
For now confess and speak as true man,  
Do you believe his hand was human?  
As sure as thou wert banged to day,  
He keeps the Devil himself in pay.  
Therefore, 
All this should have been said before.  if legs will bear thee, go,  
Weak boxer of the driving snow,  
Go get a Surgeon, Noble Festus,  
And dream no more of pounding Cestus.  
The poor young knave all sore with banging  
His neck upon his shoulders hanging,  
Eyes sunk in a black quag of butter,  
Or flesh well churmed, few words could utter.  
But softly cried to shows respects,  
Farewell Sir, till I see you next.  
He could no more in Prose nor Rhyme,  
Not had he courage at that time  
To bring his fingers to his chin  
To see what teeth remained within.  
His beard was all bedaubed to see a  
With a damned soul Haimoragia.  
The place where Nose stood, you might know it  
But ne'er take hold on't for to blow it.  
The Trojans they came all to much him,  
He wish'd'em damned that did but touch him.  
For so his battered Corpse did smart,  
That every touch went to his heart.  
Then Dares two Companions chose,  
To comfort up his broken Nose.  
But both the Crown and eke the beast.  
Entellus got by dint of fist.  
Who now like toad on washing-block,  
With conquest swelled, thus 'gan to mock.  
Weak Trojan fops both young and old  
That enviously this day behold  
The Victory that I have won;  
Come see what more I could have done,  
See against what a firking foe,  
Your Dares stripped from top to toe!  
Had ye not dragged his Homo-Plater  
From our inevitable slaughter.  
You should have seen how I had rubbed him,  
And 'mong the Devil's belly bubed him.  
This said his furious fist he clutched,  
And 'twixt the horns so rudely touched.  
The Bull's head that from head of Bull  
Came brains and blood a Kettle full. 
Though the Rhyme made it a Bull 'twas otherwise a Cow.   
So died the Cow without adieu,  
Or making will in minutes few.  
Then with a heart full of repentance,  
And mind prepared forpious sentence,  
He cried beholding the blue sky,  
With doleful face and blubbering eye.  
Eryx, to thee, my Counterpart,  
I give this Bull with all my heart,  
For Dares sake, who has my prayers  
The best of living Cudgel— players.  
Here will I Chapel build, or Pest-house  
Where horns shall hang and eke my Cestus.  
If Dares die here shall he be  
Entombed likewise, close by me.  
No question we shall then agree.  
They that Entellus saw turned Priest,  
Yet knew he was a damned Atheist,  
Raised such a shout at his conversion,  
As shook the Earth like Ague tertian.  
So long this hubbub did continue,  
'Twas feared that some would break a sinew.  
Which made AEneas in compassion,  
And for another dirty fashion,  
Which was to have no shouting known,  
At any speeches but his own.  
Enough quo he, enough I say;  
How long must I hear Asses bray?  
I'd rather a had a pack of knaves,  
Than such a crew of simple slaves.  
Enough this cursed Cow killing sport,  
There's none but one the better for't;  
Come bring me out your Bows and Arrows  
And if ye needs will kill, kill sparrows.  
Thus having got some good Companions,  
All in a row like ropes of Onions,  
Quo he bring hither Galley Mast,  
And set it me upright and fast;  
First having tied at top of it,  
A Pigeon, or a Clout beshit,  
It matters not so mark be hit.  
The lots were thrown into a hat,  
Or Helmet, 'tis the same thing that:  
At which they fumed like a hot tossed,  
To see that Fortune ruled the roast:  
For each one feared to be put out  
From being one should hit the clout.  

For he was Dominus fac totum  AEneas said he'd have but four;  
And who durst say then, he'd ha' more,  
But four then drawing, stone-blind Chance  
Ilippocoons Honour did advance.  
A fatal murderer of wild-Ducks,  
A foe professed to Daws and Rooks;  
The second fool whom fortune favours  
Was Mister Mnesteus, a Sea-Mavors,  
Whose head with Olive had been crowned,  
For swimming well, and not being drowned.  
Of whom I shall say little more,  
Since I have said so much before.  
Master Eurytian was the third;  
He'd hit a Curran in a turd.  
Which made him cried up for an Archer.  
His brother yet was much the archer;  
His brother Pandarus, wot ye well,  
Who taking bow of pliant steel,  
Without so much as one bear leave,  
The Cuckold Menelaus gave  
Such a dam'd prick through buttocks each,  
That Helen ne'er so clawed his breech.  
Acestes was the last forsooth,  
Who although old, with so much Youth  
Would needs contest for skill and strength;  
What he got by't you'll know at length.  
Hippocoon his goggle eyes  
Casting a thousand times to the skies,  
First hit the top oth'mast, I trow:  
A lower shot, had been below:  
The bird with that affrighted, tried  
T'have flown away, but she was tied.  
And so she only flapt the Air;  
He did no more as I can hear;  
While bird thus fluttered on the wing,  
Menestheus shoots and cuts the string:  
Whether the bird, do you now think,  
That but ere while for fear did stink,  
Now finding Leave to be light,  
Did not make haste to mend her flight.  
But shame on all Ill luck say I,  
That faster than a bird will fly,  

How orderly this bird was killed? first frighted, than the string cut, Theu rump sticed.  For as the Bird was on the wing,  
Eurytion snapped his fatal string:  
Though ere he drew, he made a prayer,  
To Brother Pandarus in his ear,  
The which his brother soon did hear.  
And so as bird was tripping off,  
(Not dreaming but she had been safe)  
The Arrow pierced her pretty rump,  
And made her turn up belly trump.  
'Twas then no time to take advice  
How to avoid the fatal slice;  
Straight with a vengeance down she come,  
Like one that feared not bruising bum.  
He that the day came after fair  
Was now Alcestes, by compare.  
there's nothing left for that old fop,  
Less he would set his own head up.  
But what said the Facetious Drole,  
Quo he I'll not be made a fool, 
One of Feltous resolves   
Suppose that yonder sat an Owl,  
Where bird was tied; why may not I  
My brother hit? by jove I'll try.  
He drew, but wonderful to see  
His dart became a prodigy.  
A prodigy that friz the hair  
Of every mortal that was there.  
'Twas here a dart, but mounting higher  
I'th' air becomes a flame of fire.  
Like whizzing Rocket up it goes  
Had Owl been there, 'thad singed his nose.  
Or else as Pub. says better far,  
Like volant or crinited star.  
In English certain flying jigs,  
Or stars with flaming Periwigs.  
The flame continued while it could,  
That is to say while there was wood,  
But fuel wanting due recruite,  
The fire went out without dispute.  
Upon the whimsical adventure  
Was many a thousand peradventure;  
A hundred strange Enthusiasms;  
Lights new as that, and fond phantasms  
The most renowned Augurs plied  
Their painful studies, and descried  
A thousand stories and keck shoes,  
To lead the doubtful by the noses.  
The Phrygian Conjurers could not rest  
Sicilian Bards were all possessed.  
Nay all the Rabble had a maggot,  
Bigger in head the stick of faggot.  
AEneas in a pious frolic  
Pulls from his neck a certain relic▪  
It was a chain of gold, at which,  
There hung a medal very rich.  
'Twas all of broiled St. Laurence left,  
And graved upon an Agate haft;  
To that annexed in Crystal hung  
The very Coal that burned Saints tongue.  
Thus gifted came he to Acestes; 
For to say truth many that ne'er saw it doubt it to this hour.   
Great Sir, to you my deep protest is,  
That for an Archer there was none  
Was ever fit to wipe your shoes.  
Who would the Devil himself not blame,  
Not having seen, to credit fame?  
For who can think that did not see,  
That thou couldst little bit of tree  
In th'Ayr at distance come to fire,  
By jove it maketh me admire.  
Fore George, as I am come of woman,  
jove owes thee kindness more than common.  
As for my part, the heavens protect thee,  
Like my dead father I respect thee,  
And than my Mother ten times better,  
If now I lie, than hell me fetter.  
What though the prizes all be gone,  
Thou shalt have presents of our own,  
To satisfy for thy ill luck,  
That mark so surely from thee took.  
With that he made him three low legs  
And gave him the forementioned jigs.  
And more than all that, something more,  
(Which I it seems forgot before.)  
A goblet of a massy weight,  
A work embossed most accurate,  
This cup so trimmed with fine devices  
Was for a fairing, sent Anchises  
By Cissus a good friend of his,  
Who living, Club did never miss;  
But being dead, yet every night,  
In dear remembrance of old Knight,  
Anchises made the Goblet weep,  
Till both forgot, he fell asleep  
To make the Ceremony staunch,  
He Crowned him with an Olive branch;  
A most exceeding favour that,  
Because he seldom wore his hat.  
Eurytion nothing envious  
To see him first rewarded thus,  
AEneas wisdom did approve;  
AEneas thanked him for his love,  
And gave him eke a good reward;  
For civil men by civil regard  
To generous spirits, seldom loose.  
Menestheus had his old shoes.  
Hippocoon two nutmegs guilt:  
For where the text employs a guilt,  
By mentioning no gifts at all;  
We judge the gifts were very small.  
From Archery to Horsemanship  
They next proceed with spur and whip.  
Epirides the first appeared  
With chin concealed in monstrous beard;  
He was Ascanius Padagouge.  
A most austere ars-firking dog  
But yet esteemed as learned a Sir John,  
As ere was bred up at the Sorbon.  
He could compose a Catch or Cannon,  
And verses make with George Buchannan.  
Native of Rion in Auvernia,  
But plagued with a diseafe called Hernia.  
Soon as he came before his betters  
He showed himself a man of Letters,  
Making a hundred ugly scrapes,  
Like Scholar that the Courtier apes.  
AEneas soon as one could wake him,  
Spies formal fool, and thus bespoke him;  
Epirides where's my Cock-Robin?  
Will he a while leave placket-bobbing,  
And for a Steed leave riding wenches?  
Then give him Horse fit for his inches.  
Where's all the other younger fry,  
Have they their Coursers fit to fly,  
To let the world know by their fooling;  
Their parents gave'em no mean schooling?  
Go quickly then and fetch'em all:  
Epirides with legs so small  
And Thighs as dry as Kix's, though  
As swift as arrow out of bow,  
Made so much haste, that some protest,  
He leapt full thirty foot at least,  
At every leap; for such men fly  
Always, when theyare in Masters eye.  
Returning like the flowing surges,  
With a whole troop of young St. Georges.  
They were as plump, and looked as fairly  
As hogs, that lie all day i'th' Barley.  
Their Horses like a several bride,  
Both necks and tails with Ribbons tied.  
Inn's a Court gentlemen all they were,  
And every one a sling did wear.  
Not to sling lovesongs cross the way,  
But slugs and stones in deadly fray.  
Arrows and Bows did others wear,  
Which Parents gave at Bartholomew Fair.  
For then were no such things to smoak ye,  
As fierce Dragooners under Okey.  
But others like your French gens d'armes,  
Had Spears and Lances for their Arms.  
Their right paws were in Gauntlets cased,  
And roaring feathers hats embraced.  
About their necks they Cuirass had,  
Of double guilded Latin made.  
Some for right mettle did them hold;  
But all that glisters is not gold.  
Three Captains lead three neat squadrons,  
With Scarves of Lindsey Woolsey Aprons,  
For in three squadrons were the Chuffs,  

For the use of Colours was not then in fashion.  Distinguished one by Spanish Ruffs.  
The next were hats with Steeple-Crowns,  
The third the Swissers Bonnet owns.  
One of these Chiefs that was no dastard,  
Of poor Politus was the Bastard.  
The younger son of Priamus,  
Who knocked down Neoptolemus;  
In Pages Trouzes up he mounts,  
A Carrier's horse, by all accounts,  
But such a one, that dress him well  
Would clear outrun the Devil of Hell.  
And sooner would he leap a River,  
Than some a Cart-rut should get over.  
The next to him was Asys height,  
julus' love, and sole delight.  
Though to be plain, if all tales are true,  
More for his tail, than for his virtue.  
What Horse he had, Gelding or Mare,  
Virgil is pleased to speak to spare,  
But questionless the trade he drove,  
Got him well mounted for his Love.  
Some men admire why such a one,  
Is favoured by a mighty Don;  
But search the grass well with your eyes,  
And you shall see where the Snake lies.  
Ascane as young, lastin degree,  
Was yet the first in quality.  
His gaudy coat and feathered hat  
Made all the people cry, who's that?  
But far beyond his glittering garb,  
His Courser was a Chestnut Barb.  
Not such a shaped or nimble steed,  
Did all the fields of Siden breed.  
'Twas Dido's gift, though when she made it,  
Had she known all, he never had had it.  
This Horse was only fit to show  
On Whitson-holy-dayes or so;  
He was a perfect Ram for Capering;  
And many a Knight for all his vapouring,  
Unless he held fast by his Crest,  
Would put him in danger of his Chest  
But let him all his jades tricks try,  
Run Valley low, or Mountain high.  
Or play the Devil on all four,  
julus sat him like a Tower,  
So well he governed hand and foot,  
As he had been George Castriot,  
Or one of Don of Austria's Riders;  
Which he's a Coxcomb that considers.  
For all the other meaner squires  
Acestes common Hackneys hires.  
Geldings for some, for others Mares,  
With Fillies pricking up their ears.  
The Trojans clapped their hands by dozen,  
Seeing the Children of their Cousins.  
Here some of whom they knew the Mothers,  
There some their own, though got by others,  
And every one as fine as fivepence,  
And and all prepared to run for thrippence.  
See youth, cries one, on yonder Mare,  
Mother's n'own boy, both lip and hair  
'Twas pretty thus to hear'um read,  
How living face was like the dead.  
Such pretty cheeks with pretty dimples,  
You shall not see in both the Temples.  
Though then they looked a little whitish,  
For fear least Courser should prove skittish.  
At length when every pretty Elf  
Had in his Saddle fixed himself.  
Epirides with nimble flack,  
Makes whipcord briskly cry smack-smack.  
At which they all alarm take;  
Far better, than their Steeds, divining  
By sound of whipcord, Pedants meaning.  
Straight the three squadrons they divide  
In bodies two, or Maro lied.  
Some fly away, while some pursue,  
And at their backs with switches flew.  
But feeling smart, make head again,  
Ribrosting t'others for their pain.  
Weary of being thus lambasted,  
Eftsoons to milder sport they hasted.  
Here three to three, there two to two,  
There more, (hay toss what's here to do!)  
They prance and frisk it to and fro;  
Foe runs in full career at foe;  
When to accord the sturdy knee,  
And skill full trip, with Hait or Gee,  
(Which horses learn without much trouble)  
In full career they make a double;  
So Huntsmen say; but Horsemen, turn;  
Turn let it be then, for I scorn  
Much contradiction; that's to say,  
They did as girls that dance the Hay.  
These pretty Turn-again-Whittingtons,  
Made by these gentlemen's eldest sons  
Their cross careirs, Turns whole and half,  
Which Father made and Mother laugh,  
Were like the Labyrinth so pretty,  
Once framed by Daedalus the witty,  
To Minos' Sarjeant-Carpenter.  
Within whose walls as men did err,  
Or go astray, or vainly wander,  
Not knowing tricks of gay Meander;  
So these young sprouts of Troy renowned,  
Sometimes their Horses turning round,  
Now running in a straight career.  
And sometimes doubling here and there,  
Like nimble Dolphins seemed to play,  
Like Dolphins in the Lybic Sea.  
When Boreas bold, thank Boreas for't,  
Is pleased not to disturb their sport.  
Then out comes Fleabit and Tregonnel  
And hey for Strawberrie, that last won all.  
Some run for Crowns, and some for Guinies,  
The cunning Jockeys cheat and punies.  
But last of all, that which was most,  
They raised a most confounded dust.  
And thus you see these youths so crank  
Showed Parents many a pretty prank  

Being a notable politician.  Which afterwards julus, He  
That founded Albas' fair city.  
Becoming King most powerful,  
Did recommend by special Bull,  
Unto his Race of Romans bold,  
For to observe and eke to hold,  
As sacred to their father's names,  
By Title of the Trojan Games.  
And thus you see what slight occasions  
Men take sometimes to Cajole Nations  
While wise AEneas thus employs,  
His time in gaping upon boys,  
Fortune, who being of Greek extraction,  
(And therefore of the Grecian faction) 
What won't great people do for their own ends.   
Hated a Trojan at her heart;  
Resolves to show him to his smart,  
Another of her plaguy dog-tricks,  
juno, old Priam's dear Exec'trix,  
More full of mischief than a Page,  
Plump as a Tike with female rage,  
To trusty Gossip, Iris hies,  
A practised bitch in telling lies,  
juno her mind did soon impart,  
Which Iris had as soon by heart,  
Quo she, for words there needs no pumping,  
I know your meaning by your mumping:  
So bribed with promises and dollars  
She flung an old scarf o'er her Colours;  
Away she cuts her airy passage,  
To prosecute her damned Ambassage.  
And as she went, her legs she shows,  
Full neatly clad in crimson hose  
Well gartered too, above the knee,  
As they affirm, that both did see.  
Slow was her pace, for being plump  
She feared to fret her tender rump.  
From Arcady, without a wherry,  
She quickly crossed the Ocean ferry.  
And cause the Road was strait and free,  
She was not long from Sicily,  
Where she beheld, in Armour glittering  
The lazy Trojans scaperloytring  
The Fleet was left like Thief in Mill,  
Or to be gone, or stay, at will.  
Nor Dog to bark, nor boy to bawl,  
What ever danger should befall;  
Both boys and dogs were all ago  
To see my Lord AEneas show.  
The women by themselves afar,  
Were private from these acts of war  
As 'twere in public hugger mugger,  
Clawing away the sack and Sugar,  
Till crying ripe, the wine entices  
Some to bewail defunct Anchises.  
While others at misfortnune wept;  
Well well-quo one, time was I kept  
As good a house for East-cheap beef,  
As she that was Churchwardens wife;  
And for good Pewter and for Brass  
And dining Room rubbed with a gloss,  
I had as good as most i'th' Parish  
Though some perhaps might make more flourish  
How long shall Ladies nice of stomach  
Be forced to lie in swabbers Hamock?  
How long shall women bred so squeamish?  
Lie nose in arse midst Hogo's flemish?  
Others that were more finely Maudlin  
Called poor AEneas Goose and Codlin,  
Come, come, I love to speak, cries one,  
There's Captain turd, let him alone,  
Let him but drink while he can see,  
He cares not what betides poor we,  
He crams his guts as at a wedding,  
While we are glad of hasty pudding.  
Where is the City that he promised?  
I doubt I shall be ana— tomized.  
Ere that day come: he might ha'had  
City's enough, would he have stayed;  
But he would needs have tother toss.  
Your rolling stones ne'er gather moss.  
While cups and tongues thus fast do move,  
As both for nimbleness had striven,  
Iris that saw their drunken posture.  
Quits shape divine betokning moisture;  
With staff in hand, on eyes spectacles,  
Like wife of Doricles, herself she tackles,  
And old Witch that had lived so long,  
She had forgot that she was young,  
For the reversion of whose jointure,  
The fifteenth race had cried, God Saint her.  
Though she were old, yet she was subtle,  
And to the purpose well could prattle.  
My Grannam Berce she was height,  
Though dark with age, the Age's light.  
Mischievous Iris in this form  
Appears in midst of all the Chirm,  
To whom as soon as she could make,  
'Em hold their clacks these words she spoke, 
Which she was half a day a doing   
Poor women, Poor unhappy women!  
Companions only now for Seamen,  
How long with grief must ye contend,  
Oh where shall be your sorrows end?  
Had ye not better that the Dolopps  
Had long since cut ye into Collops?  
Then from vexation of your souls  
Y'had lain secure among the Moles.  
Rather than thus to live at Sea  
Half dead with hunger every day:  
Your hands that fans did only dandle,  
Now forced the rugged Oar to handle,  
Distressed inhabitants of Pinnaces.  
To whom the Sea destruction menaces.  
That live in boats, where ticks and fleas,  
Without respect of persons seize:  
Rather than lead a life so fell,  
Women had better live in Hell.  
'Tis now seven years, or little less  
That you in cold and heats distress,  
Poor wrinkled weather beaten Madams  
Led by the noses like jack adam's,  
In vain do hunt the flying shore,  
Which Fate has promised ten times o'er;  
A tale that I shall ne'er believe,  
Nor pin my faith upon her sleeve.  
Let her go on and vainly coax  
Our credulous leader, john, Anoaks.  
A quartan Ague stop his Lungs.  
For him we have endured these wrongs;  
But here's enough, le's have a care:  
Why can't we tarry where we are?  
What ails this Country? 'tis both good  
And Governed by our flesh and blood.  
Let's build a Town among our kindred,  
Our friend Acestes ne'er will hindered▪  
There we may play our wanton tricks,  
Not subject to the Ocean's freaks.  
Our Country Gods I pity too,  
Han't they a fine time? what think you?  
Snatched from the rage of Grecian Robbers.  
To be made Cabin-boys and Swobbers  
Fools! can we hope for so much joy,  
Ere to revisit your old Troy?  
Or Simois, famed for Morehens plenty?  
Or Xanthus ne'er of Gudgeons empty?  
Then let's go burn those pocky Vessels;  
That are not fit to harbour Weasels.  
This night my candle burning blue,  
Cassandra's Ghost my Currants drew,  
Quo she, why wander ye like Tartars?  
In Sicily take up your quarters.  
What will ye always live like Barnacles?  
That may have Towns like Athens, or Naples.  
Always be swimming on the Seas,  
Like Widgeons or like Soland Geese?  
Burn then those fly-boats, why d'ye tarry?  
If husband's chafe, ye have your Lurry.  
Behold four Altars newly raised  
Where sacrifices lately blazed.  
To Neptune for some courtesies,  
Where fire enough in Embers lies:  
Find you but hearts, the Gods find flames,  
Courage then, thrice Immortal Dames.  
Take leave of damned seafaring trade,  
And of the ships make a Grilliade  
Be you but bold, I don't say cruel,  
The Gods find fire, and yonder's fuel.  
This having said the plaguy strumpet,  
Takes up a brand, and stead of trumpet,  
Blows the hot coal, to wake the flame,  
Go then, she cried i'th' Devils name.  
With that so swift she flung the brand,  
As sent it soon to journey's end.  
And where as soon, it was apparent  
He dallied not to tell his arrant.  
Dames, that before ne'er saw such jigs,  
Began to stare like roasted Pigs;  
They stared so long you would have thought  
Their very eyes would have dropped out.  
They knew not what to think or say,  
For all the stuff they had, there lay.  
Here soft compassion to her Kettle,  
There pitied pinner stops her metal.  
Another 'gins her cheeks to wet,  
In mercy to her Cabinet.  
At length steps up an ancient Matron,  
That Priamus by strings of Apron,  
Had often lead, as being one,  
Had nursed him many a Girl and Son;  
Whom she their Primars also taught,  
And firked their royal tails for naught.  
This venerable piece of Age  
Hight Pyrgo, more than Midwife sage;  
With voice like Kitten, when it mews,  
Thrusting her neck out like a Goose,  
Quo she, let's not be over hasty,  
To credit Beroe, she's too too testy.  
Come, come my friends, I know what's what,  
And I must tell ye— I smell a Rat.  
She Beroe, she's a lying slut;  
She's no more Beroe, than my Scut.  
Alas poor Beroe's sick a bed,  
Scarce an hour since I dressed her head.  

You might ha'believed her without swearing.  And then she swore the Devil take her,  
That there was nothing worse did make her;  
Then that she could not come to sip,  
And chat with us and smoke her pipe;  
'Tis not for want of Love or Grace,  
She came not hither to say mass  
For old Anchise in purgatory.  
But her old age, which makes me sorry.  
To see her made a stalking horse  
And that for mischief, which is worse,  
No, no, this wench i'th' Devils name,  
Is come from Heaven from Jove's good dame.  
Her Armpits smell of Rosemary,  
Which strongly prove divinity.  
Her lively air, and feet's proceeding,  
And eke her voice speak heavenly breeding  
To little purpose thus spoke Pyrgo:  
For not one soul believed her— Ergo.  
Yet in respect to female Wizard,  
They stood a while 'twixt hawk and buzzard.  
They liked well Sicilian plains,  
But Fate had so be whimed their brains  
With windmills they should have in Latium,  
Which for the present much did dash'em.  
Iris that had no mind to dally  
Seeing'em thus stand shally shally,  
Straightway herself disberoized,  
And in true shape re-deitized,  
She through a cloud her bow displays,  
And on her wings, with heavenly grace,  
A whole and even course she steers;  
Then in a moment disappears.  
There was no need of doing more,  
The Trojan women now give o'er,  
And now like boys in fields of Moor,  
That go to pillage Bawd and Whore;  
In Troops most fiercely diabolic,  
They take in hand their cursed Frolic.  
Like people mad, or stark possessed,  
Acting what only rage thought best.  
They sack and pillage Neptune's Altars,  
As if they ne'er had read their Psalters;  
Fate kiss their tails, and for AEneas,  
They count him but a silly flea as.  
By these fierce Queans thus armed with fire  
In hand and tail and upper tire.  
The Galleys kindled look like Torches.,  
The flames are not for Spanish Marches,  
But rather a la mode de France,  
From Rope to rope they nimbly prance.  
The Turk himself upon the Ropes,  
Near showed such strange Curvets and hops.  
The Ropes they eat for Sausages  
And on the Sails for Tripes they seize.  
They drest'em not in Cook-room though,  
But eat the Cookroom up also;  
Yet could not master all, be't known,  
They left the Furnace as a bone.  
Down to the water they eat all,  
But would not drink because 'tsmall:  
Flames ne'er so thirsty, understand ye,  
No liquors love, but Wine and Brandy.  
Eumelus all in haste comes posting,  
To see what Women were a roasting;  
The flames did so their business handle,  
That he might see without a candle,  
The matter was too too transparent,  
And so he quickly had his errand:  
Back he returns with horrid din,  
But nimble sparks too fleet for him  
Had told before how stood affairs;  
Alarmed by those Messengers,  
The people all make to the shore:  
Ascane a horseback gets before;  
Damned jades quo he the Devil confound ye;  
But fires your friend, the Devil drowned ye.  

Passion makes any man mistakes.  What witchcraft thus possessed ye all,  
To burn our ships both great and small?  
A madness Grecian rage outstrips,  
They burned our houses, left our ships.  
The pox possess and burn' you next,  
A crew of whores, that Hell perplexed,  
And sent from thence a plague to us.  
Was ever Treason black as this?  
Consuming now our boats and ropes,  
Y'have burnt the last of our hopes.  
Accursed Bitch's, with black souls,  
Blacker than are your own made Coals.  
Whore's only fit to be strappadoed,  
And back and belly bastonadod.  
Y'have brought me here with such a flutter,  
That I have almost broke my crupper,  
Besides the loss of all my sport,  
Hell take your plaguy bonfire sored.  
This having said, with fury tossed,  
Like a blind man that staff had lost,  
He threw his cap so hard toth'ground, 
A neat invention to give him his hat without alighting.   
As made it back to's hand rebound.  
AEneas like a Lacquie puffing,  
Comes in at length swearing and huffing;  
He looked like one besides his wits,  
Tore his Montero all to bits;  
But when the whole he understands,  
He falls a gnawing both his hands;  
Then in a passion out he roars,  
Where are these jades, these plaguy whores!  
Incarnate Devils, I'll quit their scores.  
But cunning bitches once the feat  
Being done had, sounded a retreat;  
Whip they were gone forsooth to piss,  
So general the engagement is;  
That you might sooner cut your throat,  
Than see a Smock or Petticoat;  
They had all found Daughter and Mother  
In Rocks or Sands some hole or other.  
Some in the next Woods refuge take,  
For all their Arses buttons make,  
Seeing the Jades pranks they had played,  
For Iris then they backward prayed.  
And spending on juno in Follies free,  
Of Billingsgate Artillery.  
More mad at her that drell'd'em in,  
And jeeres'em now out of their skin,  
But still the Vessels they burn on,  
Till massy Timber's almost gone.  
Wise work i'faith for bearded Chins,  
To leave their Ketches at thirteen's.  
The colking made so thick a smoke,  
As would a Chimney-Sweeper choke.  
Hero's like fools stood gaping on;  
But all their strength was useless grown.  
AEneas being sore distressed,  
To see the Devil make such a Feast,  
Bedaubed and plastered with despair  
Claws his white skin and tears his hair,  
To see his ships where hopes relied  
By dirty drabs so fricassyed.  
He tore his garments all he had  
Which made his smirking Tailor glad.  
And then his hairy breast he showed  
All scabby to the multitude;  
At length with voice of dying man,  
He crossed his Arms, and thus spoke on.  
O Jove of whom I never fail,  
To speak kind words, though in my Ale.  
Ay me behold this fatal blaze,  
Such ne'er befell in all your days;  
For give me leave to let you know so,  
Troy's fire to this, was but a so, so;  
If you have any kindness for's,  
And that grey Mare bened better Horse;  
If there be any smooth Bordachio  
That does affect your smooth Mustachio,  
I mean, 'mong us, let me be him,  
I'll strive to please ye with my limb.  
You shall have with me, bate extortion,  
An ample younger brother's portion:  
If this be pleasing to your Grace  
Laugh not but weep, lend weeping face,  
And all the tears that you can shed  
On ships with flames environed;  
Damned Sempstresses would they were whipped,  
Have all our grand affairs unripped;  
And therefore pour L'amour de dieu  
Give us some Rain or else some snow;  
They'll be more welcome now, good sooth,  
Then showers in Harvest after drought:  
Rain pailfuls therefore for a spurt  

Plain deal's a jewel.  Else I'll not give thee sixpence for't;  
You have a Sun, that with his bucket  
Knows up again well how to pluck it.  
Sometimes ye rain down hei! ding dung,  
Giving your water for a song.  
That Holland felt, nor drape the berry,  
Are able to withstand the ferry.  
And when we pray but for Ale quart,  
Thou giv'st us Winchester, measure for't:  
Then if thou lov'st me, dear jove, rain,  
Rain for thy life and fill the main,  
Till like a piss pot it run o'er;  
Never came rain to purpose more.  
Give our your ships that are so hot all,  
But one kind dram of thy full bottle.  
AEneas had no sooner ended,  
But a vast deluge strait descended:  
Showers did not fall, but rather Rivers,  
The Trojans looked like Cornish divers: 
For Juno was gone a Gossipping and knew nothing of his Petition   
AEneas washed, be 'gan to scowl,  
Though but just now, his very soul  
He would have pawned for but one brimmer;  
The Gods could hardly please his humour.  
To tell ye how fine feathers looked  
Like Capons tails, how scarves bemucked  
Had changed their Curious glossie hues,  
Or the sad fate of Calves-skin shoes,  
'tis needless quite, for you may guests;  
But's ships were in a better case;  
For fire and water falling out,  
The water happed to be most stout,  
And quickly maugre their welsh heat,  
Over the flames the victory get.  
So that what ever did remain,  
Was surely saved by the rain.  
But though your flames were quenched & ceased  
AEneas could nor well digest  
These blows of Fate, which made him muddy  
And put him in a deep brown study,  
What course to steer, or how t'apply  
To present evils, remedy.  
Long was he in a great quandary,  
Whither to go his ways or tarry.  
Pox o'these Oracles quo he,  
They tell no truth that I can see.  
Then up steps, an old Cinque and Quatre  
Grave Nautes height, whom jove wise daughter  
Chose from his Cradle for her Crony,  
And with him often topped Stypone.  
A desperate Casuist, for he well  
Aquinas knew, and Zabarell.  
And for predictions a mere Lilly.  
Only for Rhymes Drammatic silly.  
This Doctor taking straight, forsooth,  
AEneas words out of his mouth  
AEneas thouart a fool quo he,  
Leave fretting and be ruled by me.  
Fortunes a Whore, a mere Gilflurt,  
And scorns the more, the more ye court,  
Let her be Poxed and hanged for a Jade,  
Throw thy Cap at her, and her aid.  
Go boldly, without fear or wit,  
And hit that nail that will be hit.  
Yet cause two heads are better than one  
Acestes of your privy Count—  
Celestina swear, he'll hear thee with a whistle;  
And he's as shrewd a man as Cecil.  
For th'old and lame, knock'em oth'head;  
'tis just like having babes to bed.  
For lazy Truants, man or woman,  
Turn'em a grazing on some Common:  
Where if the rain or wind do trouble,  
They may build huts with loom and stubble.  
Which then, they for a Town may take,  
And call't Acestes for his sake.  
But all the lusty swaggering blades,  
Thar can both fight and ravish maids,  
Burn Villages and plunder Towns,  
Swear oaths of all dimensions,  
Keep these as th'apple of your eye,  
And be their chief, I'll tell ye why,  
To murder all the innocent flock  
That live by Tiber's little brook.  
But which shall shortly toss her nose,  
'Bove all the floods Io: Moxon knows;  
And spite of all their teeth compel  
'Em to pay Custom and Ga'— bell  
Thus ends the Prophet Gaffer two-shoos:  
For standing cold without Galoshoes,  
The rheum his nose did tickle sore;  
And sneezing forced him to give o'er.  
AEneas wits gone wool to gather,  
Heed neither speech nor Nautes neither.  
His busy pate was full of parables,  
His soul was pricked as 'twere with sparables;  
Thus pain like maid that weareth willow,  
Quo he, I'll go consult my pillow.  
Now was the night as dark as pitch is  
And near the hour that favours witches;  
When he tossing and tumbling lies,  
Like one in Love above the eyes.  
Or vexed soul, when hover is fled,  
That Maudlin swore she'd come to bed.  
Thus lying as he lay, tormenting  
His brainsick noddle with inventing,  
Up comes the Reverend Anchises  
In the same Doublet, Hose and Breeches  
As he was always wont to wear;  
For knowing how his son did fear,  
Besides those Devils, Rats and Ferrets,  
Those other Devils called Spirits,  
And that an Apparition might  
Make mad work with the sheets by night  
Thought fit to come in shape lest dreadful  
To him that had his breast and head full.  
The Curtains drawn, he sets him down,  
And then quo he, God save ye Son.  
Up start's AEneas in a huddle,  
And all affrighted, pissed a puddle.  
For fear, though they were strong as Ludgates  
Will set open any Mortal's Floodgates.  
When Father cried in deep affection,  
Hold water Son, ye have protection.  
Go ring your shirt, and leave surmises  
I am your Father old Anchises.  
jove that has quenched the raging fire,  
According to your own desire,  
Has sent me here your brains to settle,  
And not with fear your mind to nettle.  
As for the old and the decrepit,  
To that which Nautes says, give credit:  
'tis good advice, and as sententious,  
As Hunks ere gave to son licentious.  
But those that can both say and do,  
Let them go all along with you,  
To Tiber's stream, to which are bred nigh  
A warlike race, of a strange kidney.  
That sling a Devil and half at once,  
If e'er they meet with any affronts.  
But ere ye go to this same war,  
You must go under ground d'y'heare,  
And visit sable Pluto's manor.  
Where I shall be to do thee honour;  
And make thee welcome as a Prince,  
As hath the old saying been long since.  
For I am no tormented soul  
But walk about upon parole.  
In fields Elysian without fetters;  
Where all your souls marked with red letters,  
Their several sports and pastimes take,  
With Cards, or Bowls, or Ale and Cake.  
There you shall meet a courteous Sibyl  
Which there men credit next the Bible;  
She'll go before you with a Lantern  
To show you every corner, and turn:  
There you shall hear me make Tautologies.  
Concerning all your Genealogies.  
Which every day I con by heart,  
As Children say their morning's part.  
So Son adieu, the day appears;  
I dare not tarry for my ears.  
For when the Sun awakes the Daw's,  
Hobgoblins eyes always draw straws.  
AEneas in a plaguy fear,  
Sneaks out his head and cries who's there?  
Bow having now the nightmare slain;  
And rung his wits all in again,  
He springs upon his tail anon;  
Quo he, what Father gone so soon?  
Not stay and take a dram o'th' bottle,  
After the pains of so much twattle?  
How is your heart so cruel grown?  
So short a visit, and be gone?  
Return again my dear Dadda,  
And hear how well I yet can say,  
Pray Father pray to God bless me:  
That silly fear should so oppress me?  
And make me thus forget all grace:  
Dog in a Doublet as I was.  
Then out he goes for tinder box,  
But by the way so hard he knocks  
His Princely shins against a Chair,  
That passion urged could not forbear;  
Quo he, pox take this dog my father,  
To lead me thus I know not whither;  
I warrant it an Inch-Incision,  
The Devil take him with his vision.  
But by and by when pain was over,  
And senses did their seat recover,  
His anger cools, and he reputes  
Of his ungracious compliments.  
To make his peace he smoked the Room  
With Frankincense or some perfume.  
A consecrated Cheesecake next,  
If I am not besides the Text,  
(Though Lipsius and the Germane gang  
Of Pedants only fit to hang,  
Say 'twas a Fool) which merits faith  
As given to one that had no teeth.)  
He gave old Vesta, old indeed,  
she'd lived five thousand years a Maid;  
Now called the Gods mumblecrust.  
This offering finished, and in post  
His matin's said, and Ave mary's,  
He's fixed again for new fegaries.  
He goes to find the Rabble out,  
He tells his tale; they laugh and flout;  
Until he swore by his Virginity;  
And then they could not in civility  
But credit every word he said.  
Acestes readily obeyed,  
And without making long discourse  
Promis'd'em all his utmost force,  
AEneas not to spoil his plot,  
Resolves to strike while the Iron's hot.  
He straight calls out the old and feeble  
And women most unprofitable,  
And all the dainty, Lazy blice,  
That ships forsake to live in houses.  
He only kept with him the stout,  
Such as would hold all weathers out  
Of which one man would cudgel four,  
And four would rib-roast half a score.  
In number few, but great in heart,  
Not valuing danger of a fart.  
The ships were presently repaired,  
New Oars are framed, new masts are reared.  
New taffeta Jacks and silken streamers  
For this new moddel had no Dreamers.  
A toil that words have quickly ended,  
For what's soon said, is soon amended.  
AEneas now Surveyor turns,  
Gets him a Plough, and beasts with horns,  
And most gently like a Clown,  
Scores out the Moddel of a Town;  
The Streets, the Lanes, and Market places,  
Exact like Troy with all her graces.  
Their Concubine's apartment,  
And privies most magnificent  
Acestes laughed until he puked,  
To find his Honour thus be-duked,  
Makes law's a hundred more than twenty;  
And Officers close stool to empty.  
Then where they never were before,  
To Venus, that Celestial whore  
Upon the mountain, Erycine,  
He makes a Temple, and a Shrine,  
To lay Anchises bones therein,  
And of the order jacobin,  
He Consecrates a lazy Priest,  
Whose office 'twas in dirty vest,  
Before a Taper always burning,  
To howl out ditties full of mourning.  
Thus having got a little quiet  
They fell to junketting and riot;  
Nine days in gluttony they toil,  
And drink like Shoemakers the while;  
Till now the Ocean calm and gay  
Tell's 'em 'tis time to take away.  
The Southwind blows, but makes no bustle,  
More than too call'em with his whistle.  
The longest day must have an end,  
And friend at length must part with friend.  
So 'tis with them, now season calls,  
Of force they must pack up their Awls.  
The Galley-rosters then began  
To howl and blubber, and take on;  
The women loath to lie alone  
Are all now frantic to be gone.  
AEneas, who had words at will,  
Begs'em with patience to be still;  
Sometimes he laughs, sometimes he cries,  
As Cunning swayed his drolleries.  
Twenty deluding tricks he used,  
And so their female brains amused,  
That they were well content to yield,  
And to the Conquest quit the Field.  
O heavens now what a noise is here!  
Of humble servant, thine my Dear,  
Farewell my Joy, farewell my Love,  
Farewell my Honey, Duck and Dove,  
They kiss, they cry, they laugh, shake hands,  
Embrace and hug, and on the Sands  
Th'had taken their last leave, some think,  
Had Captain giv'n'em the least wink.  
Three Sheep are to the Tempests slain,  
To keep'em in a merry vain.  
And then for Eryx that town Bull  
Four Heifers from the Herds they cull.  
The Anchors weighed, all ready now,  
AEneas stands upon the prow,  
With Olive branch upon his brow;  
As thus he sat in Princely pomp,  
On a Portmantle easing Rump,  
A young tarpaulin jacka lent  
Brought him a cup of musty Tent;  
What's this quo he, the juice of Toads  
'Tis well enough, 'twill serve the Gods:  
With that he poured it down the Main,  
That drank it, as't'had been Champain.  
The guts and Garbage of each beast,  
He gave the Tritons for a feast.  
For with the Brisket, Chines and Ribs,  
Trojans themselves had filled their cribs.  
The Seas thus pleased with Sail, and Oar,  
They part from the beloved shore.  
You would have sworn, had you been near  
That all the Kent-Street Broom-men there  
Had emptied all their leathern gear,  
Nothing was extant to your views  
For a whole mile but women's shoes.  
Thus in old shoes their wishes flew,  
While they look on and wish for new:  
And so return from viewing fleet  
With tongues more clamorous than their feet  
Venus the while a slut most crafty,  
And mindful of her white boy's safety,  
Bids Coachman harness Flanders Mares,  
And straight to Neptune she careirs.  
Neptune, it being long Vacation,  
For want of better recreation,  
With Oyster shells, and rocky flakes  
Was busy making Ducks and Drakes;  
But when he saw the Lackerds Coach,  
He left his sport and makes approach,  
Bless me, quo she, what mean you so  
Your noble pastime to forego?  
In truth I blame my rudeness for't;  
That thus hath made you leave your sport,  
With voice more lulling than a lute  
She had so charmed the Sea-green Brute,  
Madam quo he, kissing her hand,  
I were not worthy my command,  
Should I not all things set aside  
When such a Dame, so near allied  
Whom I love more, than you can guests it,  
Shall honour me with such a visit;  
Good now what wind has blown you hither?  
Some plot of juno upon the weather:  
Y'are in the right on't, on my Honour  
She plagues my heart out, pox upon her,  
'Tis scarce a month but in despite,  
She burned up all my sons whole fleet.  
And would have gridled him himself,  
But that the pretty harmless Elf  
Has a good faculty to ball it,  
When any mischief does befall it.  
In all our heavenly Court there's none  
But hates her like a Scorpion.  
And Jupiter's a Hobby-horse,  
He does not kick her out of doors  
As one would kick a dog or bitch.  
She has the Devil in her breech.  
Time that brings all things to an end,  
Can't bond the malice of this fiend.  
The Laws of Fate she chaps and changes,  
As all things moved upon her hinges.  
What need I tell you, you well know,  
She's nothing else but fire and Tow.  
But t'other day, in Lybic Seas▪  
What a Combustion did she raise!  
Attempting those her wild fegaries  
Within your Highness' territories;  
But that your Grace, I humbly thank ye,  
Seeing how meanly she did rank ye,  
Were pleased to take good cognizance  
Of puffing slaves Irreverence,  
And so cornub'd'em, that I think  
Their windy holes began to stink;  
And then the sneaking sons of whores  
Pulled in their horns, like Cuckold's Curs,  
That find by letters intercepted,  
How well their stately heads are grafted.  
But tempests missing her desire,  
She seeks to work her ends by fire;  
But then her husband by a shower  
Stopped the damned progress of her power.  
That which remains, I beg your Grace  
To let your Seas keep smiling face.  
Let only gentle Zephyr be  
Your Highness courteous Deputy.  
And for those testy Aquilo's  
Chase'em like Hornets from my nose.  
Let Son at Tiber safe arrive;  
And for so doing, as I live.  
My Maids shall work ye against Easter,  
A pointed Band worth twice a tester.  
I tell you this, as I am modest  
Upon the word of a true Goddess,  
Dear Madam, why such words as these?  
You are sole Mistress of the Seas.  
From thence you came: The Seas were mad,  
If they for you no kindness had.  
And therefore vex yourself no more,  
I'll make the winds your breath adore.  
I'll have a care of your young man,  
The same that Do has of her fawn:  
Fair Simois and Xanthus both  
I call to witness upon Oath;  
The large effects of former care;  
Achilles when, great man of War,  
Assaulting Troy, a bold adventure,  
Your dapper Son would needs encounter  
And like to have his brains knocked out,  
In cloud I rapt him, as in clout,  
While his fierce foe in vain pursued,  
And th'Air as vainly hacked and hewed  
I have the same protection still,  
The same intention and good will;  
And for the sake of your bright eyes  
He ne'er shall want what in me lies.  
Moreo're to show I love him well,  
I'll give him passage into Hell.  
Egress and regress to his wishes,  
As he were one of my own Fishes.  
The Lady hearing so much mercy,  
Dropped him a very delicate Curtsy.  
The King of floods than gave command,  
And Coach is tackled out of hand;  
Coach by two Hippotams drawn,  
Not Dolphins as the Learned fain  
And on the billows than he drives  
The pace of Princes and their wives  
At his approach the Sea becalms,  
The waves as quiet are, as Lambs;  
Winds clap their tails betwixt their legs,  
Like Chaplain took at Bawdy Pegs:  
The Scene was changed quite through the main,  
All covered now with Neptune's train.  
He to show Lady Coz. his Port  
Had summoned all t'attend his Court.  
First the Promoters of the Sea,  
His Sergeants' and his Catch poles, they  
Were certain Monsters, th'ugliest Rogues  
That ere were seen, upon Sea-Hogs.  
Whales of all sizes, sorts and shapes,  
With noses made like squirts for Claps,  
Whence they could spout ye with a vengeance  
Whole Rivers, like my Lord Major's Engines.  
These Glaucus lead, a man of note,  
In scallop she'll instead of Boat.  
And all the way he played most fine  
Upon a Trumpet called Marine.  
Ino's Executor Palaemon  
Rid mounted on a good fat Salmon;  
Old Triton second in the Empire,  
Road in a Chariot fringed with Sampi●  
A Scallop lined with mother of Pearl  
Which six large Oysters nimbly whirl  
Phorcus the next most eminent  
Brought a whole a ragged Regiment  
Riding with dirty shirts on Sharks,  
All dammy Boys, and hectering Sparks,  
Next Thetis with her Sallow jowl  
Rides mounted on an ambling Sole;  
And next to her was Melite,  
Behind her man upon a Ray.  
Fair Panope a Virgin still,  
Bestrides an overgrown Mackaril.  
Cymodoce brings up the Rear,  
Upon a nimble Didapper.  
Such was the worshipful procession  
Made by the Chiefs of Sea-born Nation:  
AEneas at the weather smiles,  
A smile in length above three miles.  
Men might have seen his heart untroubled  
Caper Corantoes through his doublet,  
Among the ships there's not a lazy one,  
All by the forelock take Occasion;  
Their sails are full, and Seamen brisk,  
Some go to sleep, and some to Whisk,  
The gale works for 'em, while the Ships  
All keeps their course, their Amm'ral keeps  
That steered by Palinure, a head  
The body of the whole Fleet lead  
Starboard, or Latboard, or No near,  
How e'er he steered all others steer,  
The Rowers all the Season blest,  
That gave them so much time to rest,  
And all lay down upon the planks  
To recreate their weary Flanks.  
While Pilots with their eyes, like Owls,  
Look out for Sea-marks, and for shoals,  
The rest, without the aid of Poppey,  
Or juice of Lettuces, so nappy,  
So sound slept, that some men swore  
Their very souls where heard to snore,  
When, lo, a little Urchin whipster,  
A god called, but more like a Tapster,  
That by his good will would never waken,  
But sleep all day in rusty Bacon,  
This demigod is Death's one brother,  
'Tis well sh'has him, sh'has ne'er another.  
This drowsy Soul drops from the stars,  
Dispels the Mist, that hid his Arse,  
And thus like a dissembling Knave,  
For Palinure provides a grave.  
Like Phorbas clad, quo he, dear Friend  
What harm dost thou thyself intent  
By watching thus? aside thy care:  
And sleep a while, while weather's fair,  
And I'll be careful till you wake  
Of Galleys, that no harm they take.  
Follow your Fool's advice that please,  
I'll sleep no sleeps by God's good grace:  
Who sent you here with this blind story?  
Thus Palinure frumped young john Dory.  
This bold young Sophister howe'er  
Continued still to buzz in's Ear'.  
He begged him o'er and o'er again  
To clear his eyelids, but in vain,  
For Palinure he could not coax:  
Friend, quoth he, y'are in the wrong box.  
Is this a time for me to snort,  
Knowing the burden I support.  
How should I answer to be found,  
I fast a sleep, Ships fast a ground?  
My Master, great AEneas, sure  
Would give much thanks to Palinure.  
A scalded dog the Kitchen bauks,  
So we have had enough of rocks,  
The little God, but hugeous Devil,  
Finding persuasions ne'er so civil,  
Would not prevail, draws out a jelly,  
The colour I can hardly tell ye,  
With this same oil, not oil of Violet,  
He rubbed the Temples of the Pilot,  
Who, without dreaming o the Fleet,  
Falls flat on's belly fast a sleep.  
When on a sudden part of the steerage,  
Not well repaired or out of mere age.  
Whips off, and Pilot, heaven knows how,  
Only that Virgil says 'twas so,  
Went with a murrain altogether,  
A strange mischance in such good weather,  
And therefore wise men guess it rather,  
(Though bad excuse by Virgil made,  
Is better than it have nothing said)  
That the old man too much had drank,  
And going to sh— fell off a plank.  
However 'twas, waked with the fall,  
He vainly to his Mates did call,  
For he was drowned, and mischief done,  
Away th' unlucky God doth run.  
How e'er the Ships steer a right course,  
For Neptune's promise guides their oars,  
Though some conjecture they did well,  
Rather by hap, than by good skill.  
Tell by and by the Rocks approaching,  
Where Siren's live, all day debauching,  
AEneas by good chance looked out,  
And seeing Ships so near a rout,  
Thought Pilot either drunk or dead,  
And that without his present aid,  
The Ships would be at six and sev'ns',  
He goes to see: but then O heavens!  
Th'astonished Mortal quickly found,  
That Palinure, Good man, was drowned,  
The Galleys swom at seven and six,  
Like blind men groping without sticks,  
And now they 'gan approach the stones  
That looked all white like dead men's bones,  
And yet the waves near shallow shore,  
Lay howling day and night for more.  
AEneas, whiter than his Cravat,  
Saw 'twas nothing for man to laugh at;  
'Twas time i'saith for him to work,  
The which he did like any Turk;  
And straight though night, and hard put to't,  
Got sea room, and good way to boot,  
He wrought, but could not sing a note,  
Like merry Cobblers under stalls;  
For grief had spoilt his Madrigals;  
But for his Pilot, now a sleep,  
A hundred sighs he fetched full deep;  
He puffed, and heaved, and roared, and snobed,  
To see himself of Pilot robbed;  
Ah my Dear Friend, his noddle shaking,  
That now must sleep for want of waking,  
Whom sleep itself, hath taken napping,  
And strangled in the water dropping,  
Naked upon some foreign shore  
Thou shalt be cast and seen no more;  
Though if no Porpoise eat thee up,  
Nor Sturgron on thy carcase sup,  
Time may perhaps bring thee to light,  
Till then, Dear Palinure, good Night,  
FINIS.