Gideon's Fleece: AN HEROIC POEM.
WHen
Isr'el had done Evil in God's sight,
And he his Scourge had made the
Midianite;
When sev'n years Yoke and Bondage, heavy grew,
Enough to break the stiff neck of a
Jew:
Then
Gideon, alias
Jerubbaal, liv'd,
One of
Manasse's Tribe, that then was griev'd,
And by the hand of
Midian sore opprest,
Despair'd of safety more than all the rest.
Poor in his Family, and he the least
Of all his Fathers House, that made a Feast
Of Broth to treat an Angel, to whose lot
Did fall the Present of a Porridge-pot,
A Present well accepted, 'twas the Mind
More than the Gift, the Angel made so kind.
A Thresher not profest, but out of need,
Joash his Son, of
Abiezer's breed.
A mean Estate good
Gideon did confine,
Is apt to make a bad one more repine,
Fret, that desert, and learned men do thrive,
When he scarce, with the
P. knows how to live,
[Page 4]'Twas
Naboth's Vineyard
Ahab did invite,
And Envy mov'd this spiteful
Benjamite,
To rail at
Isr'els mighty Men, when he
A
Mushroom is, and ever like to be.
Had the wise whining
Yelper been but quiet,
Minded his Broth and Porridge pot, his Diet,
His picque and malice then had ne'er been known,
Or that no flesh remained on his bone,
But since he loves the word,
Ʋnmask'd, the same
Dress does become both
Venus, and his Name.
'Twas Wheat was thresht by
Gideon Isra'lite,
But men are so by Giddy
Benjamite,
Men, whom the world deservedly admire,
And cannot by so blunt a Tool, expire,
Men in the threshing put to so much pain,
As
Giddy speaks a Thresher, not in grain;
Romantic, frantic, antic giddy brain,
Ne're did the like, nor e're can do again,
An
Andrew that wou'd well become a Stage
Had he more Wit, and less of Spleen and rage.
But 'tis what's natural in Spleen-disease
To have a dullness on the Body seise,
And those have fits of Frenzy, and of Folly,
That are opprest with
Flatus-Melancholly,
Spiteful, Complaining, ne're content with what
God's Providence designeth for their Lot;
Malicious, Envious, self-conceited, proud,
Do their own Praise, and Folly sound aloud,
Peevish and fretting at anothers Good,
The true Effects of salt, and sower blood,
Morose, revengeful, sullen, fierce, elate,
Still grudging at anothers prosp'rous State;
Vain-glorious, truculent, puff'd up with pride,
Think they know more, than all the world beside.
[Page 5]These Fruits grow on an
Hypochondriac man,
His Temper brings 'em forth, do what he can;
The Cure is
Consultation, 'tis too great
For any
Hocus to do such a feat,
'Tis the concern of skilful men, well read,
To touch This
Hydra's or
Medusa's head,
And he that but
Pretender is to Art,
Had better to a Conclave Griefs impart,
Than vent so much scurrility and pride,
And think he does behind a
Introduct.
Curtain hide,
Who wou'd effect the Cure by
Hellebore,
And send him to
Anticyra for more.
Can any think but
Sieur de Frisk is frantic,
When he condemns another for
p. 185.
Romantic?
Or can that man excuse him from a fiction,
That well observes his
p. 173.
Manner of adstriction?
Can't his Vulcanian Course, Philosophie
Of
Staples, Stakes, and
Pipe-staves mention'd,
173.174.175.
vye
With any part of
Monsieur Scudery?
As if an
Atome, or part minimal,
Cou'd be a Wyth, or Stake, at any call;
Or what determin'd was to humane shape
Cou'd be a Monkey, or his Jackenape.
Of what dimensions must that
Atome be
Whose Figure with a Staple does agree,
What was so long impenetrable known
Is soften'd now, and flexible is grown.
Figures immutable, what makes the Change
Not less intelligible, than 'tis strange?
Simples, I mean, of which Compounds partake,
Must be of certain Form, and pristine make.
And I should think that it were easier far
For any Child to bend an Iron Bar,
Than for an
Atom to be turn'd, or bent,
[Page 6]By any force, less than
Omnipotent.
Must not the Staple alway so endure,
What can agen its streightness reprocure?
You'l say, the same force crook't it first with ease
Can make it streight again, when e're it please;
Pretty! but here is doing and undoing,
Much like a former Matrons formal wooing,
Backward, and forward,
pro and
con, you see
In
Vulcans Shop the Chast
Penelope:
And I shou'd think the Staple must stand bent,
Altho', perhaps, the salt-stake may relent.
Here better may be said,
p. 196.
risum teneatis?
If you can dance, the Fiddle you have
gratis,
And if the Pipes sweet melody but aid,
Stiff-stakes will caper too, I am afraid.
But should I harken longer to this Musick
I should forget Philosophy, and Physick,
Smiling a little while I now proceed
Upon this doughty
Champion's doughtier deed.
Can any read this weak Mechanick prater,
And not say, that he is the
p. 199.
Innovator,
p. 196.
Will with a Wisp, whose blazeing light intices
Out of the common way with strange
p. 186.
Caprices,
Which if you follow, more truth will be mist,
Than any other
p. 197.
Jatrosophist.
Is this the man will not be lov'd but fear'd,
That plucks the hair off a dead Lions beard?
Drivels as if he still were chewing Mastic,
Moisture as
Excremental, as
p. 194.
Phantastic?
Is this the man, or rather Gut Jejune,
To set all mankind right and into tune?
p. 120.
Can
Rules and
Remedies of Physick put
(As
Homer's Iliads sometime in a Nut)
Into one Sheet, on which all men (no less)
[Page 7]With greater safety, speed, and good success,
May more depend, securely more rely,
Than best pretenders to
Anatomy?
Is this the ancient
p. 95.
Method up to cry,
To pinion Method, that shou'd freely fly?
Or the
Dogmatic Curer to assist
Against a
Quack, or
p. 100
Pseudo-methodist?
That is, that will not travel in his way
p. 186.
Novel or antique (antick I shou'd say.)
p. 82.
Good God! with what a bold, and brazen-face,
Do some men labour others to disgrace,
Make any Method of that Brat the Father,
That is not Method, but is Quacking rather;
And yet these men to Method can pretend,
But tis no longer than 'twill serve their end,
Be down-right Quack, and Methodist together,
As rain, and storm, in Sun shine; twisted weather.
Is this the man that does so
p 21
[...]. 211.
featly prate
Of what will purge, fix, and precipitate,
All in a breath? a
Febrifugue so fine,
So much a Pearl, too good for
Conclave Swine,
16
[...].
Ducklings can laugh, at what will purge and fix,
And may precipitate, but down to Styx.
Ducklings a better name can never lack,
Duckling the best, because a
Duck crys Quack.
But to return, and here a little write,
To do an absent man a job of right,
Famous at home, abroad almost ador'd,
Who do's for praise an ample field afford.
Can any think so mean of
Doctor Willis
But one that's meaner much, and much more silly is,
That he shou'd lay so great a stress upon
p. 172.
Two cases, in a great
Phaenomenon?
As for the Mothers, and the Daughters sake,
To raise in his own Spleen an Ague-cake?
[Page 8]Fix that Disease on Principles unsound,
That with one
Frisk are tumbled to the ground,
p. 193.
And this on Hear-say? no man can dispense
With so much Malice, and so little Sense.
Did not this
Great man often ponder, when
He thought of any thing he had to pen,
Cast much about, consider many Cases,
Take Practic turns, joyn'd with Theoric-paces?
Confer and lay up many things in heap,
First whet his Sythe, and then begin to reap?
Who knew him better, had a longer knowledge,
Than one that spent a small time in a Colledge,
Will say, 'twas so, and no man took more care
Good workmen, and Materials to prepare:
'Tis true he did Compose, and Set alone
Wou'd hear another, that consider on,
But that he was Romantic, or was Rash,
No man can say, but who deserves a Lash
Well laid on by one of his own Profession,
p. 8.
As learn'd a
Schoolmaster, as good Physician.
But what if this be all the
Daughter owns,
(Who speaks with honour to the
Doctors bones,)
That she was once his
Patient, that he gave
Her
Mercury, but never digg'd her grave;
That she did slumber, far from her last sleep,
The very noise of which had made her weep,
Had discompos'd her in a high degree
And that from blame she thought the
Doctor free.
What if the Mother prove much more averse
To what her
dead Physician may asperse?
Both ill resent, and both do much Condemn,
Who private speech will make a publick Theme,
Heightn'd with all the aggravations can
Proceed from an enrag'd, ill-natur'd man,
[Page 9]Was not this (thus against their wills) a rape,
Who
both did thus (through mercy) death escape.
These are the Cases, credit if you please,
Thus doted on, in a perplext disease.
p. 19.
In nomine Domini, can this be the same
To
Honesty and Conscience
p. 75.
lays such claime?
p. 15
[...].
Whose sentiment was so far in the right,
When
three Physicians were mistaken quite;
And one shou'd tell him so,
that if he wou'd
Subscribe to them against the Patients good,
And his own knowledge, he shou'd get so well.
As he can't there express, nor e're should tell.
Where's
Monsieur Scudery? One of those stories,
In which an honest, but no wise-man, Glories.
An honest man may keep an honest Wh—
And Conscience tell one
L— but never more.
The great
Sidleian Star whose glorious ray
Was as the Sun, enough to make a day,
Whose shining lustre fil'd an orb it made,
Tho' now he bee, (as all men)
dust and shade,
Set in a Clime from Noxious Vermin clear,
And shineing bright in
Empyrean Sphear,
Enough to teach an Envious man to rest,
For envy never haunts a Soul that's blest,
Painful, and pious, Searching each recess
Of Nature, and the art he did profess,
Endow'd with such a
Soul, that made up all
Defects cou'd e'r upon a
Body fall;
Candid, and Tender of anothers Fame,
A good Example still to do the same,
Deserv'd much better Language. But the sport
Encourag'd all, expected from the
Court,
And disappointed. Thanks my
Muse do's
Sing
To both a Gracious and sagacious
King,
That quickly found, dislik't, pluck't out the sting.
[Page 10]Knew tho' the word,
Associate, on that score
Be in Contempt, as some have been before,
In an opprobrious way, That to apply
Unto a
Roy
[...]l learn'd
Society
Was arrogance, attemptible by none
But once a
Waspe, and now a stingless
drone.
The radiant beames are by reflex divine,
Like
Moses Face, that make the
Conclave shine,
May fright profaner men, defend till death
From
Ʋzzahs touch, and
Shimei's stinking breath.
Who Vilifies what stands on Royal Grace,
Striking the Child, slyes in the Fathers face.
The Golden
Chrysostome, whose mouth and Tongue
Is one well made, and to'ther sweetly hung,
Or rather the experienc'd
Ʋlysses,
Who's Tongue is tipt with better speech, than His is,
Words than the purest oyl much smoother are,
And than the sweetest butter softer far,
Leaves the drawn sword to him whose arrows sly,
Like plagues, in darkness and with secrecy.
To good effect That spent abroad some time
Saw Men, and Customes, in another Clime,
Brought back the Vertues of a forreign nation,
At home well used in a higher station,
Must be traduc'd by Nick-name of
p. 110.
DETATTLE
As if discoursing wisely were to prattle:
Ver'st in affairs at home, and things abroad,
Must undergo a Paedagogian Rod,
Learned, and well accomplisht, whose great soul,
Some may abuse, but (justly) none Controul;
Learning well manag'd is a double grace,
'Tis a good band, and 'tis too a good face.
And here I can't but cast a
sheepish eye
Upon the
Vervex in Anatomie,
[Page 11]
A double
Vervex makes a heavy Busle,
Like
Janus bifrons, or the
Biceps muscle:
Nabal a
Belweather, by a mischance,
Where Fate, not Merit,
Cattle do's advance,
Is here discharg'd, to pick up crumms with
Mus,
And should love
Majestie, as well as
Puss.
Nabal no Belweather, but a fierce
Ram,
That
butts the flock, and runs at his own
Dam.
Gideon to
Vervex ever lent an eye,
That made him pray, his
Fleece might once be dry,
But here 'tis as the
Butcher ey'd the
Goat,
To bind him first, and then to cut his throat.
Is the
right legg on which an Art do's stand
A
mark of Ignominy, or a
brand
Of vile reproach? That Art must be but Lame,
If it can any way deserve that name,
That wants this help to aid, and crutch the same.
The famed
Circle that the blood doth make,
The
Circuit it do's round the body take,
A
Circuit that is but a Visitation,
To help each part, and keep it in its station,
Discoverd by a
man, whose very name
To haters of Anatomy's a shame,
We justly owe to this
Industrious art,
Declares the blood comes from, flows to the
Heart.
Next to the Circulation I may place
Whats near of kin, and much of the same race,
That do's promote the motion of the blood,
A
Muscle not yet throwly understood,
Protrudes it to the place where 'tis design'd
Arterial blood to Venal must be joyn'd,
Eases the thought, with what prodigious art
The blood can move so soon to every part.
The Pulse that (heretofore) sate in the throne,
Cannot in this affair (now) act alone,
[Page 12]But must admit this
helper to assist,
Discover'd by a
late Anatomist:
Whose greater pain and care, he best can know
That such
Fatigues agen shall undergo;
Whose busie head and most industrious hand
Much greater commendation do's command,
Haveing that firm, and sure foundation laid,
Art will admire, and only
Quacks upbraid.
This
Muscle d
[...]s the arterie invest,
And suffers not Arterial blood to rest,
Which by this means is ever onward prest,
Was never brought to light, till search was made
Into what lay so long obscure in shade
By
one yet living▪ ready to maintain
What's shew'd in Cutts by
Willis of the
brain,
Or
lungs, or
Stomach, arterie or vein,
Chiefly to give the Fabrick of each part,
Expects additions from the men of Art.
That Knife, and Glass, the voyage first began
That first did pass those streights of
Magellan,
Don't yet despair to shew where more things lye
Cannot displease Friends to
discovery,
Glass
Pylades, Orestes was the Knife,
In Products Anatomick, Man and wife.
The
Milky veins, contain the Chyle that feeds
And fresh supplies, of blood and spirit breeds,
Supports the Fabrick that wou'd soon decay,
Did not new still recruit, what flys away.
The
duct conveys the
Pancreatick juyce,
Of such necessity, and so great use,
Into the Gutts, fierce Choller to allay
That else upon those tender parts wou'd prey.
The
limpid Liquor, where the Nymphs do sport
And all the
water-deities resort,
Of
Naides, and
Hyades the Court;
[Page 13]The
Nerves, and whence the branches do commence
To every part those Spirits to dispense,
That quicken motion, and excite the sense,
Keeps Nature in the frame, it should be in,
And shews the hand that moves the work within.
These, and besides much more a numerous train
Of parts that make, and wait upon the brain
For natures
Seeret Service, and command,
Are products of an Anatomick hand.
Who can this noble, useful art defame,
Whence such advantages already came?
And what may more, 'tis he alone can tell
That knows the work, he made himself so well.
What is
p. 30.
Superfluous, 'tis hard to know,
Good Plants among so many weeds may grow,
That he the weeds must move, that has a mind
But one good plant of better sort to find.
Can such an one
p. 8.
a
Killing Idol be?
If e'r was
Alexicacus, tis he.
Much greater
Ideots then
p. 19.5.
at
Paris are
Fools of the first rate, any man may swear,
Who do expect to run a race, or go
Without a leg, without a foot or toe,
Without this Art, who wou'd Physicians be
Shall pass for Fools, or Lunaticks for me.
p. 60.
A yellow cap becomes his head the best,
And better much then where 'tis rudely plac'd
Instead of Velvet on the learned Crown
Of one of so much honour, and renown.
But nothing is too sawcy for a Prag,
Bespatters men, and thinks he plays the wag,
Is neither Horse, nor Ass, but (both) a mule,
Heady and silly, whom the bit must rule,
Bridle Command and Whip too must correct,
Who to defame another doth affect.
[Page 14]A
Chymist only makes poys'nous projection,
A
Yomist pleas'd with none but
Vive dissection:
Launces, or rather butchers men alive,
Thinks that alone can make a poor man thrive.
To
Vervex Iunior something to apply
That stanches blood from
Jugular do's fly,
Intended to do greater mischief far
But is but what a
Plethora, can spare.
'Tis
Manual Operation is the Bud
Contains, wrapt up within, the greatest good,
Succeeds in Practise, to a man of Art,
Who knows the whole, can better mend a Part.
Physician, or
Chyrurgion can't be bad,
That's skil'd in this, and such great help has had.
What if in Practise some do chance to dye?
Was it because the
Monsieur was not by:
Or if a
Tendon punctur'd be or
Nerve,
(Which yet needs Faith, and credit must deserve)
Can such an accident that happens ill
Blanch or defame an able
Surgeons skill?
'Tis real Knowledge,
maugre all disaster,
Will make a
Scholar much out-do a
Master.
But what if what do's for ill
Puncture pass
Be nothing but an
Erysipelas?
On which a
Gangreen may, perhaps, sur'vene,
And turn about the story quite and clean;
No
Nerve, nor
Tendon wounded, or no pain,
What then was
punctur'd was the
Median Vein;
And so acknowledg'd by
p. 43.
the man of Art,
The first did to a Vein, that word impart.
Is not a Surgeons Credit
punctur'd thus,
Assassin'd by a scattering
Blunderbuss?
Charg'd with as many Bullets as might kill
Twelve men, if manag'd with more wit and skill,
[Page 15]But now less hurtful then a single Bugg,
And all may well concenter in one Slug.
Rather look home, and say thus,
Pater Noster,
Forgive the daily Blunders I do foster,
Stifle and keep from publick view, and sight,
Tho' others here with faults I charge in spight,
Give Food, and Raiment to a man has none,
And when I ask for bread, give not a Stone,
Yet if a Stone should slip into my gut,
I know to whom to go to have it cut,
To one, I hope, (tho' him I did abuse)
Will not a Patient penitent refuse.
Charge not Male Practise on my younger Age,
Nor on my riper years Malicious Rage,
From Hatred, Envy, Malice, and the Curse,
Of want of Charity, deliver us.
This is a Christian Part, and not to fly
On Places gawl'd, or strike men in the eye.
The
Bell sounds loud, and rung will never break,
Much better plac'd, then on an
Emp'ric's neck:
That's now in middle State, twix't fear, and hope,
Is a
Vatinius to a
Miroscope,
Yet when he please, of That pretends the use
As some atonement for a grand abuse.
A
Bawble, in another's hand, in His
Omnipotent, and a
Creator is.
Wou'd
Par-boile, Bake, wou'd
dry, and
roast enough,
But that another man must find the stuff,
Wou'd have the benefit of
his own lash,
Cou'd he reach further then a poor
Calash.
Those that are better drawn about in Coaches
Are object, sitted for the worst reproaches;
But n'er the worse for
Rabshake's great rant,
A Poor
Physician, and a weak
Gallant.
[Page 16]Had he but what the
Fleece deserv'd, all men
Of idle scrible wou'd abhor his Pen,
A thing of such a foul Prodigious
Genus,
As far exceeds both great and little
Venus.
But as a
Guerdon, for his Clerkly Pains
More wit may be transfus'd into's
p. 13.
Calfes-brains.
p. 188.
Shagrin of this concern may ta
[...] the care,
And
Frisk be plagu'd materialls to prepare.
Of what great use the
Microscope has been,
To all Ingenious men is plainly seen;
And he that laughs at so great help as that,
Needs not it's aid to magnifie a Bat.
p. 135.
FAETƲS, the Glory of his
Alma Mater,
Buoy'd up with fame in
Practises High water,
A Sea-mark, which no Pilot but must see,
And by his means escape much misery,
Made for the good of others, and well may
Be pitcht upon by every bird of prey:
Who tho' thereon he drops his dung, no hurt
Comes to this Pillar, high enough from dirt;
What e'r is thought of
Foetus, that's the Child
That has
himself, and his
own Bed defil'd,
A hopeful bird, as ravenous, as great,
Like a foul
Harpie, dungs upon his meat.
He that obliged has all human kind,
By labouring mans
Original to find,
His
rise, and
growth, and how
that Little can
Was once a
Point, in time become a
span,
That
span a
Child, and then that
Child a
man:
Whose modest skill into those secrets searcht,
That Nature, like a
Hawke, kept mew'd, and pearch't,
Must meet with men
inhuman or more plain,
With
Brutes that rudely will reward such pain:
[Page 17]A Book of greater worth, I here engage,
Than all the
Quacking Scribble of an Age,
Venus with all her wandring Train, can't dare
With this
fixt Star, Lustre, or Light compare.
Another Scene of Mirth must be *
Morbilli,
Sober, and Grave, that calls to mind
Barzillai;
Aged, and true, who Complements his Art,
As loth from it, and it from him, to part;
At the same distance from a
p. 8.
Western Bumkin,
As is a Good
Musk-melon, from a
Pumkin.
Would bring
Medicina.
the
Queen, o're
Jordans stream, but that
His
Feet can hardly go at such a rate;
Wishes her well, and prays no Ill may come
By open Violence, or secret Doom;
Useful to many, whose great Fame and Skill,
His Neighbours
longer eares, do vex, and fill.
M
[...]s absent, in his place cannot appear,
His Deputie's,
p. 135.
the
Monsieur le Docteur.
Sieur Plegmatick, now in his Grave, must be
Digg'd up again, hang'd in
Effigie:
p. 110
&c.
Branded with all the marks in
Head and
Hand,
Fancy can Forge, or
Envy can command:
Made the
Chief Butt for Arrows were most tipt
With Pett, and (more) in Malice double dipt.
Of whom, what here is fitter to be said,
Is, That a
Learned Sober man is dead;
Ought to have Right, and Priviledge of Rest,
The
Magna Charta of all Men deceast;
Great in his time at
Court, and in the
City,
Stanch in his Judgment, though not madly
Witty.
His
Epitaph, made by a Man of Fame,
Whose Nature
flatly contradicts his Name,
Pictor and Poet, does him greater right,
Is the best Antidote, expels the spite,
[Page 18]There best are read his Parts, and Charity,
How far from Base, and Sordid Actions free:
Grandeur, and Candor, if you please to hear,
Marble can
speak, and Stone will make appear,
To him that both together shall compare,
What
Contumelies on his Ashes lye,
Sacred and Dear, to all Posterity.
If whipping
Cat of Ninetails, or
Strappade,
Anointed well with Oyl of
Bastinado,
Be justly due to a true
Renegado,
What will become of them, that cross the Seas,
To purchase
Doctor-ship at greater ease,
And, at return, affirm their Mushrom Skill,
Can cure the Men, that greater Art would kill?
Turn tail to every thing where they were born,
And think
That nothing can deserve, but scorn,
Compar'd with what the
Braggadocio prates,
Is had
beyond Sea at much cheaper rates.
Vaunt their own great
Accomplishments, and
Art;
As if to all they Science cou'd impart.
These wou'd be
Bell-weathers, but that 'tis found,
The
Bell is
crack't, or has a crafty sound.
Short horns best suit such mischievous
shrewd kine,
That nothing
humane have, much less
Divine;
p. 71.
Do's such a false, and idle Tale rehearse,
As shames his
Prose, and ill becomes my
Verse.
To give
the Painter his true Colours then,
The Doctor was desir'd, or call'd, 'tis ten
To one; or on the old ones tir'd Back,
A new Disease might come, with fresh attacque;
Carus, or
Apoplectick fit may smite,
And that might make the
Painter say,
p. 75.
Good night,
When all the fault upon the
Jesuit lies,
p. 135.
Good man and true! without him no man dies,
[Page 19]To whom 'tis malice to assign this Function,
To close up Eyes, or funge in
p. 74.
extream Unction.
p. 75.
Who can report
six grains of Salt of Amber,
Can, but by
Frisk be thought, to fill a Chamber-
Pot of a Kilderkin? Perhaps, more may
Bring Water in great quantity away,
So this may serve another to expose,
The matter was not much, what was the Dose:
This was enough to raise the Cry,
p. 15.
Oibo!
'Tis
Conclave Cardinals make Urine so,
The Dogs without, and
Introd.
Dock-tail'd Currs, do miss,
When they hold up their
Crippl'd Legs, to piss.
The same Untruth and Malice, you may find,
In other things: I hast to what's behind.
To shew this
Monsieurs picque is general,
Spares none, but like to death attacqueth all,
Opens at all, falls foul upon a Brother,
And wou'd, if she cou'd be a man, his Mother,
Sheds Venom on a man of
p. 83.
Bouncing Fame,
A man of great, and yet without, a name;
'Tis not material,
some body was meant,
What he most Fancies, whether
Dort, or
Trent;
Trojan or
Tyrian, 'tis no matter which,
The man must
scratch, if Envy does but
itch;
Yet from himself he draws the greatest Blood,
And that way, if a
Witch, may be withstood;
But 'tis no
Conjurer, the greatest need,
Is from a
Calenture he has to bleed,
Passing the line,
distemper'd he is grown,
Else he the
Conclave wou'd have let alone.
The thing's too plain for any to pass by,
The foul Harangue of a fine
Butterfly;
p 50.
A famed
Norw. Doctor, that shou'd scour
Unto his Patient, in a Coach and four,
[Page 20]But for a
Butterfly, made such a halt,
As made soft Fire (he says) make stinking malt;
But what a pretty
p. 60, 61.
answer is there said,
By the new
Widow, to the
Doctor made,
Such as is deeply dipt in a
Romance,
And savours much of
A-la-mode a France.
p. 198.
Who to their
Institutes a
Conclave sends,
Shou'd see that Truth Intelligence attends,
That he be well informed, and not asperse,
The
living Gown, or the
deceased Herse,
That famous Person was too great, too high,
Too wise, too solid, to regard a fly
Domitian-like; when great concerns were near,
Then unconcerned, and childish to appear;
But grant 'twas so, the Patient might have dy'd,
Before his Wife his
Quackship cou'd have spi'd,
Cubb'd in
Calash, or on a Winged Steed,
What e're his haste was, or how great his speed;
Since it did so
evene, I may so say,
And not
predestinate mens lives away;
Unless this may perhaps be in your mind,
To frustrate means
the Fly was then design'd;
But did not
Politicks Divinely erre,
That
Monsieur was not destin'd to be there?
Who wou'd have scorn'd the
Coach, and been the
Fly,
Put on his Wings, before the Sick should dye.
And since I name his
Quackship, 'tis but right,
To bring some of his Virtues into sight,
His Craft, and his
Technologie, to get
The Fish that will not bite, into his Net.
p. 61.
First he before him sendeth out a
Scout,
To make his way, and bring the thing about;
Instructs his
Emissaries, sends before
Such Cattle, then himself knocks at the Door;
[Page 21]But first (desir'd) his
Scout prepares the way,
And what an
Artist this man is, does say,
Has cured such and such, that were deplor'd,
And by his Speech, makes him almost ador'd;
Then does the
Woodcock fall into the Trap,
And lives or dies, as good or ill shall hap.
Works off the former
p. 62.
Physick-man, that he,
To kill, may have the greater Liberty;
Is petulant, and seldom will confer
About the Case of any
p. 5.
Sufferer,
Without Affront, or Huff, will take a care
The man he meets, be just of his own hair,
No joyning else, else no way to comply,
But
Discord is the greatest
Harmony.
Such
Rascal Deer do oft out ly the Pale,
And are not much concerned in the Tale;
But if they wanton, or too fat do grow,
The
Keeper then must use his
Gun or
Bow.
p. 90.
The Nail well CLENCHED on the other side,
Fast
rivetted, will ever so abide,
Cannot be drawn, untill his
Pincers come,
That for another left so little
room;
A
Nail that's driven with so great a stroke,
As might one of the
Brother-hood provoke;
Isma'l, contentious Member, rotten Limb,
Conclave, and
Quack, are jointly met in him:
To whom I wish a Temper free from stealing,
Less of the
Quack, and more of
fairer dealing;
Or, if he wants an Office, I'd prefer
To be the Conclaves Annual
Scavenger,
Provided he himself did well demean,
Not make more
foul, the place he should keep
clean.
p 147.
The
next Physitian to the House that's best,
In spacious
Paris, sacred in the
West,
[Page 22]Must have a flap of
Reynards stinking Tail,
Tho' it to hurt him nothing does avail;
'Twas nothing but because he was not there,
Had he but come, h'ad cur'd the Pewt.
But being not
call'd in, the man was slain,
Unhappy much, beyond a Country
Swain;
Two Planets (
p. 148.
Saturnine) presage his Death,
When he alone propitious was to Breath;
Cou'd give the Lease of Life a longer date,
Cou'd parly Death, and give a check to Fate,
Cou'd be the best directing
Cynosure,
And knew the thing, did never fail to Cure.
Were
p. 91.
Russia Discipline now used here,
He wou'd his share of
Justice have, I fear,
Whose longer Practise ne're can
Maiden be,
As an
Assize from
Execution free.
Had such a Custom been in
England, then
He never now had rail'd at
better men;
Had been a Sufferer by
Lex Talionis,
And no body had taken out
de Bonis.
This only wou'd
notabile have been,
And he out of a
constant course of sin.
But since he lives to cast that in the Dish
Of one, has greater Fame than he cou'd wish,
I hope all Men will laugh, and no man vex
At the fly trick of such a
Carnifex.
A
fatal Error, there, perhaps might be
Unknown to him, caus'd that Catastrophe,
Or time appointed, which
God only knows,
Without a Fault, the
Patients Eyes might close,
Which here I leave to
men of Art that know
What
As'rum 'Roots, and
Ruckthorne Syrup do;
Only suggest
Scammoniats, and
Mercurials,
Have made more Slaughter, and procured more Burials.
[Page 23]These are the marks this
Monsieur levels at,
Too free in
Censure, ever to be fat,
In scribling spends himself: Thus
Rabbits play,
Much rain, and
frisking washes Fat away.
If any more his
venom'd Arrows hit▪
For I did only cast an Eye on it;
Never have Patience
Libels to peruse,
That Learned Men, and Worthy do abuse:
Never approve in
Poetry, or
Prose,
To
hang a man, unless 'tis
by the Nose,
He that lets loose a
Bull-dog pen on man,
Will cut his Throat, when e're he fairly can.
Credit is next to Life, nay, greater Bliss,
A better Being, than bare Being is:
Who, unprovok't, another sets upon,
'Tis ten to one is scratcht, if not undone.
To any toucht, if I have not done right,
I will next time
Tarantula does bite,
Next Caper's cut, or the next
frisk is made,
And now retire from Sun shine into shade,
To meditate upon a
Hackny Jade.
First from the Worthier men their Pardon crave
Beneath desert, if treated 'em I have.
Here
Gemini the Constellation shines,
Simeon with
Levi force together joyns;
p. 14.
Simeon the
Doctor does in Van appear,
Levi the Surgeon marches in the rear,
Commanded by
de Frisk, all three attaque,
And joyntly leap upon anothers back.
Had not this Doctor better staid at home,
Then come abroad to carp, and play the
Mome;
Whose Haunches wou'd much better fill a Chair,
Then play such pranks, scarce here accounted fair,
[Page 24]Beneath the worth and place of a
Professor,
To favour
Trigg, or
Culpeppers Successor.
Levi the younger Tribe, and much more dull,
Famous for
little Brain, and a
thick Skull;
Who shews his Teeth, that are too blunt to bite,
And hates what he should be, an
Isra'lite,
The Junior
Vervex is the likeliest man,
Levy's full inch-thick Cranium to
Trepan,
VVhere can no danger be of hurt to Brain,
Much like a Rabbets, when the Moons in VVain.
Levi the Cursed Cow with her short Horns,
May cure a
Pensil wart, and cut mens Cornes,
But if you look for one of greater Art,
Gideon can tell where
Vervex keeps his mart.
And here I may both Prose and Poem joyn,
Embarked in almost the same design,
Profane, Traducing, Dull, in every line;
Prose without Grace, and Poems without Wit,
Are like a
rotten Nut has nought in it,
When Magot has devour'd the
Kernel, then
The
Empty shell is not fit Food for Men.
Were I to chuse what man I thought the best,
And among
Poets Saul above the rest;
I ne're should think a
Self-conceited thing
Cou'd be of very
Poetasters King;
I rather like a
Modest Muse, that hears,
What others say, and at them pricks her ears,
Then a damn'd
Porcupine, whose venom'd quill,
Can shed the Blood of whom he please to kill.
Is't Wit or Wile, I'd ask a sordid Muse,
In Proser, or in Poet, to abuse?
Here now my Muse, wou'd take a little rest,
Claiming what others want,
quieta est.
(After a little Pause.)
[Page 25]She's now refresh't, and travels on before ye,
Into some other parts of Sacred Story.
When
Isra'l was to try the mighty band
Of his
Almighty Sovereigns Command,
To cause the force of
Midian to retreat,
And with 300 a great host defeat;
Then
Gideon pray'd, a
Fleece, if dry, might be
A Signal promise of a Victory;
His suit was granted;
Fleece was dry; on all
The Ground about a mighty dew did fall.
'Tis now no miracle, the
Fleece is dry,
Gideon can shew't without a Prodigy.
And to its dryness you may add, 'tis light,
With Pores well stufft with Drollery, and Spite:
Who ought of Argument in it can meet,
Had need of Eyes that are not dim to see't.
No
Vein but railing, and of Nerves not one
Is to be found in this dry
Sceleton:
The
Viscera are all become one Spleen,
Nought else but That, and Lungs are to be seen;
Nought else does fill the Cavity below,
Except that part whence bitter Gall does flow.
Jejunum does appear the greatest Gut,
Ileon, and
Colon, are in
Caecum put,
Caecum's the Babies
Rectum too, the
Blind
Gu
[...] so cramm'd, it leaves a stink behind,
A stink does to the Infant most adhere,
Who does himself with his own Dung besmere.
The
Brain so little, and its bulk so small,
Is next of kin to what is none at all;
And easie 'tis to think, a thing that's dull
Can come from none, but from an empty Skull.
Yet that which greatest therein I do see,
Is what is call'd
R
[...]te mirabile.
[Page 26]A Net well bird-lim'd, spred with a Design
To hasten work, and multiply the Coin.
This was a Voyage for the
Golden Fleece,
Attempted by a flock of gaggling Geese:
Not such as sav'd
Romes Capitol from harm,
But such as
Colchos were resolv'd to storm.
A Crew of Sea-men, strong and lusty Louts,
And
Jason there, Chief of the
Argonauts.
But stay——
'Tis not the taking some
Outlandish Air,
Can make a man accomplisht home repair,
Unless the Root be in him, no good Fruit
Can be expected; 'Tis a better Brute,
A Stallion drest with Ribbon, so well bred,
To leape a Common Brain, and Vulgar Head.
A pair of
Whiskers, and the
Sieur de Frisk,
Make Art no greater, tho' the man more brisk;
Some
Transmarine, tho' Hospital Physicians
Have no more Skill than Vagabond Musicians;
'Tis Judgment to the Mill that brings the Grist;
The Butcher sees more than th' Anatomist;
Things too familiar seldome will grow big;
A Grocers Prentice scarce will touch a Fig;
And tho' the Traveller the Cogg more mind,
The home-bred dusty-pole more Corn will grind.
Physick, and all the Care of It is vanish't,
Out of that Breast wou'd have Physicians banish't;
p 114.
Writes
Bodin, Sueton, Seneca say thus,
Quintilian also, and
Herodotus;
If they a Barb'rous action but relate,
The same is laudable in his wisepate;
And what in Foreign parts inhumane was,
Must every where as practicable pass,
[Page 27]Because Some suit not with a peevish mind,
To All in general he'l prove unkind,
Taking a Pet (perhaps) at Two or Three,
Extend his Rage to all the Faculty:
Rip up the
Bowels, that himself have born,
And
Nero-like, expose to view and scorn:
But this does too great Honour to him lend,
Med'cin no Viper is, nor bare this Fiend;
An
Asiatick Monster, Meager, Slender,
Got where wild Beasts come down to Drink, and Gender.
'Tis best this way an Artist to become,
And this the best
Anatomy to Some.
Who, if they bring this Custom into fashion,
Should be the first are banisht from the Nation;
Were all like him to Physick did pretend,
Most wou'd be plea'sd it might have such an end.
Can any think this probable can be;
Introd.
New Observations in
Anatomy
Shou'd be discovered more by
one than
all
The num'rous
Conclave, Pope, and
Cardinal?
And yet this man
Dissection to pursue,
With all the Malice to a Caitiff due;
Here's a plain
Surfet taken of a Knife,
Too much of
Pride, too little of a
Wife
Perverteth Judgment, and Debauches Life.
Herostratus, a Temple did inflame,
To see if that way he cou'd raise a name:
And 'tis the Province of a sneaking Drabb
To lend sometimes Authority a stabb:
'Tis a great step to an Egregious
Knave,
At one time to attaque a whole
Conclave:
And tho' the care be great of Guard and Welt,
The blow may be, when unexpected, felt.
[Page 28]A Suburb-Cat should mind no City-Mice;
Distemper'd Persons need the most advice,
A
Name so great, so famous, cease to wear,
Or to abuse his
Conclave, Quack! forbear;
And that of
Gideon evermore decline,
Or, under meaner Fortune, cease to whine.
He that would live in Calm, and rest in Shade,
Must not anothers Name or Fame invade;
For who an ill Aggressor once is found,
Is ever plagu'd still to make good bad Ground.
Who loves to contradict anothers sense,
May that way
Doctor Singular Commence,
Live an uneasie Life, and when he dies,
Have this Inscrib'd,
p 135.
Doctor of Contraries.
But to go on with a brisk
Gale and
Tyde,
And after Safely at an
Anchor ride;
Breath of good men, not to
usurp, but
gain,
Saluted
Admiral upon the main,
Top and Top gallant, Pendant, Streamer wear,
Is that which
Contradiction cannot bear.
Roughness
one Creature claims as a true mark,
And
Curs may have a property to
bark,
Shapeless is one, and
snarling is the other;
Diff'rent in kind, in rudeness each a Brother.
Honour is not in him that does
receive,
But better plac'd in him, that does it
give;
He is the
Fountain whence Respect does flow;
The Man is but a
rivulet below,
Damn'd up, or stopp'd, by every wash, or fall
Of a great Tide, or of a rotten Wall.
The best advance is by
Humility,
And none can make so great a Leap, as he
That first retreats, and then comes on more fierce,
Fetches it further, than I can rehearse.
[Page 29]I ne're the
better am, if ten be
bad,
Nor can one
Vertue in their
Vice be had.
I may a bitter envious mind express,
And thereby make my self so much the
less
But if I wou'd
August and
Great appear,
I'd not
deserve, or no mans Censure
fear:
Censure but few; not count my self the
best,
He that
Connives is sooner at his rest.
'Tis an ill way to be a man of
p. 158.
Note,
To take all men he meets with by the Throat;
Expose with all the
foulest Play he had,
VVhat, with a
fair Construction, can't be bad;
VVere all due Circumstances weigh'd and clear,
The
Charge wou'd not so
terrible appear:
But when one so much
envious freedom takes,
Censures but what himself observes and makes;
'Tis ill to bring such
Mormo's into sight,
And then with them himself, and others fright,
Lay Death and Slaughter at anothers door,
That is as far from
that, as
being poor.
First
make a Body of Absurdities,
Then
cloth it with malicious disguise.
'Tis no good Nature, much less any Skill,
To save the
Patient, but the
Doctor kill,
Endeavour, by all means, such to expose,
Are others
Friends, and only are his
Foes;
Made so by Crossness, and a Peevish Frame,
That will allow none else to have a Name.
Envy's the worst Companion e're can be,
Embracing,
Jvy-like, it kills the Tree;
'Twas
Aeacus did wittily Torment,
And with such VVit was into Torment sent;
There made a
Hellish Judg, fit for the place,
Some still remain of
Aeacus's Race:
Folly enough may be observ'd in it;
Folly the
Wit has so much overgrown,
That
Wit from
Folly hardly can be known.
Some wore their Eyes
abroad, the Story tells,
At home were
Beetles, Moles, and
Dotterels.
Candour becomes all men of greatest Art,
Not to be too Severe, or madly Tart;
Who makes a
Burning-Bull for others fame,
Perillus like, must perish in the same.
A
Tyrant can't but this just Sentence pass,
Since both are
hot, and both are made of
Brass.
Heel find two things, whoever shall be there,
To be a
Patient, and a
Sufferer;
In heat Tormenting that must
suffer still,
Let
Patience, or
Impatience work its will.
The
Conclave ne're will need, nor fear that Fiend,
That in Reproaches does his Talent spend;
But in Contempt, and plain Defiance stands
With Envious
Quacks, and boasting
p. 107.
Scharlatans.