THE REVELS; OR A satire AGAINST Temple-Ryots. Mundus in exitium ruit. LONNDO, Printed for I. G. 1683. TO THE BENCHERS. Gentlemen, IT must be confessed that we are fallen into the Dregs of Time, wherein Atheism and Profaneness not only abound, but strive which should have the pre-eminence, which sufficiently appears by the late Transactions of some about you; however 'tis thought no way impertinent to Apologise for the ensuing Poem, which does not (though it may be thought to) reflect on any of the Grave and serious Gentlemen (who are no less Eminent in the Abhorrence of such actions, then in the Law) which at present possess the Honourable Bench, but merely on those hotspurs who think Loyalty consists in being Eminently wicked, that think to regain the lost part of their Patrimony by sending the rest after, and that think the Law to be Honoured by such unlawful actions of its Pretenders; And whether such Proceedings merit not such reproofs, is left to your serious Consideratin by him who is An Admirer of Your Honourable Society. E. P. THE REVELS; OR A satire Against Temple-Ryots. Heavens! What an Age is this? what blushless times? When we can smile and make a sport of crimes; When by a Bloodyflux of Oaths we sin, And when begun we ever do begin; And never end; Is Natures Cours dissolved? Or is the Basis of the Earth revolved Into its Pristine Chaos? When for Joys, That solid are, we grasp at empty Toys; And barter sense for Nonsense; Gold, for Dross, And make a Loss-ful Gain by Gainful loss: Well did the Poets in their works presage, An Iron, to succeed the Golden, Age, Well did they tell us that Astrea left The treacherous Earth; for that is now bereft Of all things that are Honest, Good and Just, Who flew with her from this defiled dust; Gon are those Golden Days, I say, wherein Fraud and such Villainies could ne re be seen: When Suppliant prisoners did not shake to see Their Angry Judge; all things secure and free; Poor Clients did not then attend the Gate Of their ne're-satisfied-Advocate: These days are vanished and our Modern times, Have nothing else but New-invented Crimes: Draw near ye Stoics, you whose Marble Eyes Can never melt; whose graver Souls despise A Wrinkle, come and burst your selus to see Th' Abstract of Folly and Impiety. A Vanity which they of Old ne'er knew, Which is as strange t' Imagine as 'tis true. A Vanity which has created more Adorers, than was e'er heard of before. Come and see how by Cheats they wealth acquire, (The Grave is sooner cloyed than their desire▪) Walk but into their Hall and you shall see (If I mistake not) Hells Epitome. One that was just now drenched in Danae's shower, Has neither Gold not trust within his power. Here stands a man that spends his Midday Sweat, And Midnight Oil in studying how to Cheat; And if it prove not to his wished desire, God damn the Dice I'll throw them in the Fire. Give me more Dice, if those do not suffice To win, he'll Seal it with his Oaths and Lies, Which if denied Meet me to morrow Sir, Then follows, but be sure he'll never stir From his Enchanted Castle, to be made, A Victim to be sent to th' Insernal shade. Go but within and see the Guineas fly And Dice, for these run Low and those too High. A voice from Hell then forthwith comes,, here here, Usher come hither, Usher now Draw near, God Damn the Dog for he does not appear. See how they labour with their Stygian cries, As if they were resolved to storm the Skies. With New-invented-Oaths; and spend their Night In Cheats▪ which they account their sole delight. If well accomplished; and for Joy they screw Themselves in Shapes, which Proteus never knew. Go but into another Room you'll say, Size-Ace is that which carries all away: And being entered, Masters will you play? Is the Infernal cry; I want but one Will then accost you; Master pray sit down? These are the Pastimes which with such delight Are grasped, which now take up their day and Night. These are the Joys which are so much admired, And are by all (though none but Fools) desired. Now let us go and take a Turn or two, And for a while leave this Infernal crew To their endeared Pastimes, and go see With much disdain another Company. A Company that Fortune would not aid, Who for their folly have severely paid. Who made their brags but now, and will to Morrow, Be forced to Beg or Steal, at least to borrow. Have you not seen the Rose hang down ' its Head, When the bright Beams of th' Glorious Sun are fled, Just so they look as if they were struck Dead. Thus having lost their Coin and Reason too (And in this straight knowing not what to do) With their Poor Omnia to the Brokers go, Others that ne'er before perhaps could see A Penny, now to their Old Trade must fly Of Pocket Picking and of Thiefery. Others to be recruited now must go Unto their Masters Till which still doth flow. with Bags of Bullion that must satisfy Their craving Wants; which they will re-supply. Thus being flushed with new desire again, They come in hopes now for to throw a Main. But oh! 'tis gone, and that which they did borrow, Even now, must be repaid by th'next day's Sorrow. Thus he is like Act on (who became To his own Cruel Dogs th' unhappy Game.) Poorer than Irus now you may him see, And is become th' Abstract of Misery. Thus Game's a civil Gunpowder in peace, Blowing up Houses with their whole increase. Now Marble-Stoick now approach in haste, Relinquish laughter, and now weep as fast. See how in Shoals they come whose noise appalls, Much worse than twenty Irish Funerals. The hideous clamour of great Nilus' fall, If but to them compared, is but small. See what Gil-Fortune hath prepared to be As a Reward for this Loose Company Who made their whole Estate a Lottery. A Lavish Banquet she doth now prepare For the dejected Losers) with much care. Knowing that Hungry Stomaches do ensue An Empty Pocket, which has missed but few. The Table's spread, groans with Varieties Which do the most Luxurious Palate please. To Crown with full content the Appetite Nothing is wanting, that creates delight. The Studied Dishes which do re-supply Each vacancy, do so invite the Eye, That only with the sight 'twill satisfy. Bacchus in burnished Gold doth now go round, And Music with a well-digested sound Doth pierce the willing Air, in sweet contention, Raping the willing Ears into Attention. And since their Fortunes they cannot repair Chameleon-like, by this Harmonious Air They must subsist hereafter, or despair. Plunged in Pleasures they consume their Nights In Gaming, and their Day in loose delights, Resolved t'employ each Minute of their time In that which has th' appearance of a Crime, Oh times! Oh Manners! which Antiquity In all its periods ne'er the like could see, Nor will Posterity believe that e'er, Such lavish Actions perpetrated were: This Age resolves to seek out nothing less Than th' very Quintessence of Wickedness, Fearing to come behind the Age before In Villainies, she now inventeth more, And for applause she acts them o'er and o'er. Thus Fortune having with contentment fed Her Needy Slaves, and Phoebus being fled With his Refulgent Rays far from our sight, They are encompassed by the sable Night, Which Morpheus seeing, in great hast he came, And thus accosts them;" Oh ye Sons of Fame " Apollo's Fiery Steeds are gone away " And quite withdrawn, to give a Noon of Day " Unto th' Antipodes, the sable Night " Is now approached, and Day hath took its flight. " Then let our Vows at Morpheus Shrine be paid, " And be ye not Eternal Vassals made " To Bacchanalian Revels, but begin " To make an end; Is this a time to win? " Adjourn until Aurora shall display " Her Rosy Cheeks; then reassume our Play. " Bid now farewell unto your sweet delights: " Let them end with the Days, let not the Nights " In them be spent; but take your soft reposes; " And lay your weary Heads on Beds of Roses: " See how the Tapers do consume away " Unwillingly; as if resolved to stay " Their Exit, till they see you all give o'er " Before you lose your small-remaining store. " Dissolve yourselves, depart, for shame retire: " These restless actions pleasing Rest require. " The weary Traveller now dispossessed " Of his great labours, doth desire rest, " Which so alleviates his dejected Mind, " That of his pains a present cure doth find. " By this, the Student is refreshed from Pain, " And comes with greater vigour to't again. " In short; all Brutish Animals are made " Moore fit for use, when this great Debt is paid, " Then disengage yourselves, and take your flight: " Prorogue our pleasures, and enjoy the night, " In her sweet Slumbers, and in them delight. This said, he in great haste ascends the Skies, And unto the Celestial Mansions flies. But hark! no sooner had the God given o'er His Admonitions, but they (as before) To their affected Pastimes do retire, And do no other happiness desire. Thus do they prosecute a Vanity Which would create a Blush i'th' Sun, to see That those wild Hero's now should take delight Quite from the Wing of all their Father's flight: Ah! Albion how miserably cursed Art thou, from that bright lustre which at first Adorned thy Land, adorned thy Corners round, Which cannot Now, nor Ever will be found. But hold! my Muse affrighted stands to see Of Turks and Tartars a grim Company; All in their proper Habits, that you'll swear They not Effigies be, but Real are. Here's Sir and Madam so well joined together, That the most piercing Eye cannot tell whether▪ Of them to choose, here's Madam— Captain too Linked with an English-Hogen▪ Mogen Fro; Next come of Rural Swains, a splendid Train, Who with their Daphnae's, trip it o'er the Plain: Averse to all that's Ill, they do appear As Innocent, as their white Garments are: heavens! what is this that to my wandering Eye Doth next appear, what is't that I descry? My feeble Pen amazed is to tell: Is it a Messenger new come from Hell? No sure; it wears a Gown, and you may see (Oh Horror!) that it is Divinity: Divinity! methinks the Hills should turn, To Valleys sooner; and the Water burn Than that Divinity should there be seen Who in such Temples never yet had been: Oh Impious Age! devoted unto Ill, Void of all good, and is resolved still To persevere; when wilt thou take thy fill? Methinks it would have been a crime much less If that he had been cloaked; the only dress That is a scandal unto Holiness: A Salamanca-Doctor would have done Who doth pretend to both and yet hath none; Or else some Quaking Naylor in his Band Who doth the Holy-Sister-hood command. With his light Spirit and his groping Hand: In fine, the white-Black Moors lead up the Rear, Who lively Representatives appear. These, though in different manner, all agree At once, to grace this Graceless Company; That only do excel in villainy. O sacred Powers (if facred Powers there be That with Assistance honour Poesy) Assist my trembling and unable Pen T' Anatomize the Deeds of worse than men; Whose Shameless Actions now might shame the Devil That scorn not to be thought the sum of evil. Did Nero now survive, no doubt but he, Would stand Intransed with wonder, for to see Such Actions perpetrated o'er and o'er, Which neither he, nor any saw before: And would repent, desiring (though in vain) His long-lost-Ashes to assume again, That he might be controller of them all, Whose Joy for Rome's destruction was but small To this, or yet his Mother's cruel fall: If ever Transmigration could be true 'Tis now, 'tis now, for here at once you view The Villainies that ever yet had been Transacted, which no Age the like has seen. Is money wanting to proceed? you'll see, Viïs' & modis 't will acquired be. Is all their small remaining Stock but spent? Forthwith (t' acquire more) a Parliament Convened is, where 'tis Resolved a Lord Should then be Dubbed and be by all adored. 'Tis done, 'tis done, see how his slaves like Apes Do screw their Bodies in a thousand shapes. Come next and see how they advance with hope In Riches to transcend the Mighty Pope Whose Quantum meruit is a Golden Rope. 'Tis strange to think (yet not so▪ strange as true) That among so great numbers such a few Should honest prove, for yet we Daily find, Knaves are the greatest part of all Mankind. And where should Lewd and Idle Persons come, But to those places that afford them room. I've done, but must all honest Men advise, Not to approach the place of so much Vice. FINIS.