COVENT GARDEN DROLERY, OR A COLECTION, Of all the Choice Songs, Poems, Prologues, and Epilogues, (Sung and Spoken at Courts and Theaters) never in Print before.

Written by the refined'st Witts of the Age.

And Collected by A. B.

LONDON, Printed for James Magnes neer the Piazza in Russel-Street, 1672.

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PROLOGUE Spoken by Mrs. Boutell to the Maiden Queen.

WOmen like us (passing for men) you'l cry,
Presume too much upon your Secresie.
There's not a fop in town but will pretend,
To know the cheat himself, or by his friend.
Then make no words on't, Gallants tis e'ne true,
We are condemn'd to look, and strut, like you.
Since we thus freely our hard fate confess,
Accept us these bad times in any dress.
You'l find the sweet on't, now old Pantaloons,
Will go as far, as formerly new Gowns,
And from your own cast Wigs, expect no frowns.
The Ladies we shall not so easily please.
They'l say what impudent bold things are these.
That dare provoke, yet cannot do us right,
Like men with huffing looks, that dare not fight.
But this reproach, our courage must not daunt,
The Bravest Souldier may a Weapon want,
Let Her that doubts us, still send Her Gallant.
[Page 2]Ladies in us, you'l Youth and Beauty find,
All things but one, according to your mind.
And when your Eyes and Ears are feasted here,
Rise up and make out the short Meal elsewhere.

EPILOGUE Spoken by Mrs. Reeves to the Maiden Queen.

VVHat think you Sirs, was't not all well enough,
Will you not grant that we can strut, and huff.
Men may be proud, but faith for ought I see,
They neither walk, nor cock, so well as we.
And for the fighting Part we may in time,
Grow up to swagger in heroick Rhime.
For though we cannot boast of equal force,
Yet at some Weapon's men have still the worse.
Why should not then we Women act alone,
Or whence are men so necessary grown,
Our's are so old, they are as good as none
Some who have tri'd em if you'l take their Oaths,
Sweat they're as arrant tinsell as their Cloaths.
Imagine us but what we represent,
And we could e'ne, give you as good content.
Our faces, shapes, all's better than you see,
[Page 3]And for the rest they want as much as we!
Oh would the higher Powers be kind to us,
And grant us to set up a female house.
VVee'l make our selves to please both Sexes then,
To the Men Women, to the Women Men.
Here we presume, our Legs are no ill sight,
And they would give you no ill Dreams at night.
In Dream's both Sexes may their passions ease,
You make us then as civil as you please.
This would prevent the houses joyning two,
At which we are as much displeas'd as you.
For all our Women most devoutly swear,
Each would be rather a poor Actress here,
Then to be made a Mamamouchi there.

Prologue to the Parsons Wedding, spoken by M. Marshall.

AFter so many sad complaints to us,
The painful labouring Woman of this house.
We with our Poet have prevail'd again,
To give us our Revenge upon the men.
Our tricks, our jelting hath been often told,
They nere were tax'd for impotent, and old.
'Twas not our crime, the house so long lay still,
When e're we play not, 'tis against our will.
[Page 4]We could have acted, could but they have joyn'd,
You know the fault lies seldom in our kind,
Poor Sinners their best parts are worn away,
And now they quarrel, when they cannot play.
'Twas somewhat better when they did agree,
'Twas old but 'twas a willing company.
Mean time till they their quarrels can attone,
You may supply their Parts now they are gone,
We hope you will not let us act alone,
The House, the Scenes, and all things are free,
While this Play lasts 'tis ours, and you, and we
Can joyn and make an abler Company.
For so much every Woman here assures,
The Profit ours, the Pleasure shall be yours.

Epilogue to the Parson's Wedding.

WHen boys play'd women's parts, you'd think the Stage,
Was innocent in that untempting Age.
No: for your amorous Fathers then, like you,
Amongst those Boys had Play-house Misses too:
They set those bearded Beauties on their laps,
Men gave 'em Kisses, and the Ladies Claps.
But they, poor hearts, could not supply our room;
They went but Females to the Tyring-room:
While we, in kindness to our selves, and you,
Can hold out Women to our Lodgings too.
Now, to oppose the humour of that Age,
We have this day, expell'd our Men the Stage.
Why cannot we as well perform their Parts?
No, t'would not take: the tender Lady's hearts
Would then their former charity give o're:
The Madams in disguise would steal no more
To th' young Actors Chambe [...]s in mask'd Faces,
To leave Love off'rings of Points and Laces.
Nor can we Act their Parts: Alas! too soon
You'd find the cheat in th' empty Pantaloon.
Well; though we are not Womens-Men, at least
We hope to have you Gallants constant Guests;
Which if you grant, and fill our house each day,
We will return your kindnesses this way:
VVe'll build up a new Theatre to gain you,
And turn this to a House to entertain you.

A Prologue to Marriage Al la mode, by Mr. Heart.

LOrd how reform'd and quiet are we grown,
Since all our Braves, and all our Wits are gone,
Fop corner now is free from civil War,
While Wig and Vizzard Masks, no longer jar.
France and the Fleet, hath swept the Town so clear,
That we can Act in Peace, and you can hear;
Those that durst fight are gone to get renown,
And those that durst not, blush to stand in Town.
'Twas a sad sight, before they went from home,
To see our Warriors in Red wastcots come,
With Hair tuck't up into our tyring-Room.
But 'twas more sad, to hear their last adeiu,
The women sob'd, and swore they would be true.
And so they were as long as ere they cou'd;
But powerful Guinnie cannot be withstood:
And they were made of Play-house Flesh & Blood.
Fate did their Friends for double use ordain,
In Wars abroad, the grinning honour gain,
And Mistresses, for all that stay maintain.
Now they are gone, tis dead vacation here,
For neither Friends, nor Enemies appear.
[Page 7]Poor pensive Punck, now peeps ere Plays begin,
Sees the bare Bench, and dares not venter in.
But manages her half-Crown with care,
And trudges to the Mall, on foot for Air;
Our City Friends, so far will heardly roame,
They can take up with pleasures nearer home.
And see gay Showes, with gaudy Scenes else where,
For 'tis presumed they seldom come to hear:
But they have now tane up a glorious trade,
And cunning Morecraft, strut in masquerade;
Here's all our hope, for we shall show to do,
A masquing Ball, to recommend our Play.
Nay to indear them more, and let them see,
We scorn to come behind in courtesie;
We'l follow the new Mode, which they begin,
And treat them with a Room and Couch within:
For that's one way, how ere the Play falls short,
To oblige the Town, the City, and the Court.

Epilogue by Mr. Moon.

THus have my Spouse and I inform'd the Nation,
And led you all the way to Reformation:
Not with dull morals, gravely writ like those,
VVhich Men of easie flegme, with care compose.
Your Poets of stiff words and limber sence,
Born on the confines of indifference!
But by example drawn, I dare to say,
From most of you, who see and hear the Play.
There are more Rhodolphis in this Theater,
More Palamedes, and some few wives I fear.
But yet too far, our Poet would not run,
Though 'twas well offer'd, there was nothing done:
He wood not quite the VVomen faulty bare,
But stript them to the waste, and left them there.
And the mens faults were less severely shown,
For he considers that himself is one;
Some stabbing wits to bloody Satyr lent,
VVould fret both Sexes with less compliment.
VVould lay the Sceane at home, of Husband tell,
For wenches taking up their wives i'th Mell;
And a brisk bout, which of them did want,
Made by mistake of Mistress and Gallant:
Our modest Authour thought it was enough,
To cut you off a sample of the Stuff.
[Page 9]He spar'd my Shame, which you I'me sure would not
For you are all for driving on the Plot.
You sigh'd when I came in to break the sport,
And set your Teeth, when each design fell short.
To Wives and Servants all good wishes lend,
But the poor Cuckold seldom finds a Friend.
Since therefore Town, nor Court will take no pitty
O humbly cast my self upon the City.

Prologue to Iulius Caesar.

IN Country Beauties as we often see,
Something that takes in their simplicity.
Yet while they charm, they know not they are fair,
And take without their spreading of the snare;
Such Artless beauty lies in Shakespears wit,
'Twas well inspight of him what ere he writ.
His Excellencies came and were not sought,
His words like casual Atoms made a thought:
Drew up themselves in Rank and File, and writ,
He wondring how the Devil it were such wit.
Thus like the drunken Tinker, in his Play,
He grew a Prince, and never knew which way.
He did not know what trope or Figure meant,
But to perswade is to be eloquent,
So in this Caesar which this day you see,
Tully ne'r spoke as he makes Anthony.
[Page 10]Those then that tax his Learning are too blame,
He knew the thing, but did not know the Name:
Great Iohnson did that Ignorance adore,
And though he envi'd much, admir'd him more,
The faultless Iohnson equally writ well,
Shakespear made faults; but then did more excel.
One close at Guard like some old Fencer lay,
I other more open, but he shew'd more play.
In Imitation Iohnsons wit was shown,
Heaven made his men but Shakespear made his own.
VVise Iohnson's talent in observing lay,
But others follies still made up his play.
He drew the like in each elaborate line,
But Shakespear like a Master did design.
Iohnson with skill dissected humane kind,
And show'd their faults that they their faults might find.
But then as all Anatomists must do,
He to the meanest of mankind did go.
And took from Gibbets such as he would show.
Both are so great that he must boldly dare,
Who both of 'em does judge and both compare.
If amongst Poets one more bold there be,
The man that dare attempt in either way, is he.

The Prologue to Witt without money: be­ing the first Play acted after the Fire.

SO shipwrack't Passengers escape to Land,
So look they, when on bare Beach they stand,
Dropping and cold; and their first fear scarce o're,
Expecting Famine from a desert Shore;
From that hard Climate, we must wait for Bread,
Whence even the Natives forc't by hunger fled.
Our Stage does humane chance present to view,
But ne're before was seen so sadly true,
You are chang'd to, and your pretence to see
Is but a nobler name of charity.
Your own provisions furnish out our Feasts
Whilst yon the Founders make your selves our guests.
Of all mankind besides Fate had some care,
But for poor Wit no portion did prepare,
'Tis left a rent-charge to the brave and fair.
You cherish it, and now its fall yon mourn,
VVhich blind unmanner'd Zealots make their scorn,
Who think the Fire a judgement on the Stage,
Which spar'd not Temples in its furious rage.
But as our new-built City rises higher,
So from old Theaters may new aspire,
Since Fate contrives magnificence by fire.

A Prolouge to the Pilgrim.

OUr Author once was one that drove a trade,
Till pinching some odd customers (as 'tis said)
Shop was shut up forthwith, and from that fall
Like broken Tradesmen humbly took a stall.
And fell to Cobling, all that he has done,
Is to peice up what Fletcher had begun.
He dares make nothing new, for fear some may
Turn that to earnest which he meant a Play.
Suppose a Painter should a Story draw,
And invent postures which he never saw,
With several looks, to one you may suppose
He gives grave looks, another a great Nose.
Would you not laugh if one of gravity
Should see't, and swear by this the Rogue meant me,
Or one lead by'th Nose something too high,
Should see the peice and swear, judge me that's I.
Another figure may be finely drest,
Painted in Feathers and a gaudy Vest.
Should therefore a Gallant that weres good store,
Swear I am Painted by this Son of a whore.
This is the case, and now be judge I pray,
Whether the Poet be in fault or they.
A Poet from his fancy drawes alone
They that the likeness find make it their own.
[Page 13]Yet let them at least not seem to know it,
But Pox 'ont, the business that they do will shew it,
Yet such perhaps may justly cry to day,
Hang him, he that finds fault with us can't mend a Play,
Then hiss him off and let him learn to be,
Wise, and grow rich, and leave off Poetry.

Prologue to Richard the third.

LOck up your doores and bring the keys to me,
From henceforth learn to value liberty.
This day we Act a Tyrant, ere you go
I fear that to your cost you'l find it so.
What early hast you have made to pass a Fine,
To purchase Fetters, how you croud to joyne
With an Usurper, be advis'd by me
Ne're serve Usurpers, fix to Loyalty.
For you will find, at latter end ot'h day
It is your noblest and the safest way.
Who steers that course, needs fear nor wind, nor tide,
He wants no Pilott who has such a guide.
Tyrants (like childrens bubbles in the Air)
Puft up with pride, still vanish in despair.
But lawful Monarchs are preserv'd by Heaven,
And 'tis from thence that their Commissions given.
Though giddy Fortune, for a time may frown,
And seem to eclipse the lustre of a Crown.
[Page 14]Yet a King can with one Majestick Raye,
Dispearse those Clouds and make a glorious day.
This blessed truth we to our joy have found,
Since our great Master happily was Crown'd.
So from the rage of Richards Tyranny,
Richmond himself will come and set you free.

Prologue to the double Marriage.

GAllants you have so long bin absent hence,
That you have almost cool'd your diligence,
For while we studdy or revive a Play,
You like good Husbands in the Country stay.
There frugally were out your Summer Suite,
And in Frize Jerkin after Beagles Toote,
Or in Mountere Caps at field far shoot.
Nay some are so obdurate in their Sin,
That they swear never to come up again.
But all their charge of Cloathes and treat Retrench,
To Gloves and Stockings for some Country Wench.
Even they who in the summer had mishaps,
Send up to Town for Physick for their Claps.
The Ladyes too are as resolv'd as they,
And having debts unknown to them they stay.
And with the gain of Cheese and Poultry pay,
Even in their visits they from Banquets fall,
To entertain with Nuts and boule Ale.
[Page 15]And in discourse with secresy reports,
Stale News that past a Twelve-Month since at Courts.
Those of them, who are most refin'd and gay,
Now learn the Songs of a last Summers Play.
While the young Daughter does in private Mourn,
Her Loves in Town, and hopes not to return;
These Country grievances too great appear,
But cruel Ladies, we have greater here.
You come not sharp, as you were wont to Plays,
But only on the first and second Days:
This made our Poet in his visits look,
What new strange courses, for your time you took;
And to his great regret he found too soon,
Damn'd Beast and Umbre, spent the afternoon.
So that we cannot hope to see you here,
Before the little Net-work Purse be cleare:
Suppose you should have luck;
Yet sitting up so late as I am told,
You'l lose in Beauty, what you win in Gold.
And what each Lady of another says,
Will make you new Lampoones, and us new Plays.

A SONG.

1.
FAre well fair Arminda, my joy and my griefe,
In vain I have lov'd you, and hope no reliefe;
Undone by your vertue, too strict and severe,
Your Eyes gave me Love, and you gave me Despaire,
Now call'd by my Honour, I seek with content,
The Fate which in pitty, you would not prevent:
To languish in Love, were to find by delay,
A death that's more welcome the speedyest way,
2.
Or Seas, and in Battles, in Bullets and Fire,
The danger is less, then in hopeless desire;
My Death's-wound you gave, though far off I bear,
My fall from your sight, not to cost you a Tear.
But if the kind Flood, on a Wave should convey,
And under your Window, my Body would lay!
The wound on my breast, when you happen to see,
You I say with a sigh—it was given by me.

The Answer.

1.
BLame not your Arminda, nor call her your griefe
'Twas honour, not she, that deni'd you reliefe
Abuse not her vertue, nor call it severe,
VVho Loves without honour, must meet with despair
Now prompted by pitty I truly Lament,
And Mourn for your fall, which I could not prevent;
I Languish to think that your Blood should defray,
The expence of a fall, though so noble a way.
2.
In Seas, and in Battles that you did expire,
VVas the effect of your Valour, not hopeless desire;
Of the Fame you acquir'd, I greedily hear,
And grieve when I think that it cost you so dear.
And when dismall Fate, did your Body convey,
By my window your Funeral Rites for to pay:
I sigh that your Fate, I could not reverse,
And all my kind wishes, I strow on your Hearse.

Prologue spoken by Mrs. Marshall, to Philaster.

LAte Prologues, have had so much confidence,
VVe did believe we had frighted you from hence.
And plainly told the Poets of this house,
Such witt would ruine both themselves and us.
But they replyed we much mistook the age.
If we thought vertue, must support the Stage;
Our Bawdery will lose you here tis true,
Some civel women; and of them but few.
The most discreet amongst 'em will come still,
Good soules —
They neither near not understand, what's ill:
But what are these to Vi [...]o Masques, who come,
To appland that here, which keeps 'em fine at home [...]
And all the spruce Gallants will hither croud,
To laugh at what themselves perform abroad;
They and their dear lov'd Misses, tis well known,
Ate much the strongest party of the Town.
And while —
Or, you; or, we; are Vicious, never fear,
To have a full, and candid Audience here;
[Page 19]Our Poets this, to excuse themselves did say:
And faith by your appearance here to day
We find they had reason; Confidence wo'nt lose you.
You'are alwaies the best pleas'd when we abuse you,
And that's a Curtesie; we'el nere refuse you—
Your follyes, are so obvious; and so great,
Tis much the cheapest way, Wit has to treat.
There's no delight we give you with such ease,
Lord; why do they say th' Age is hard to please.
When it will doat, on its own fooleries.
Gallants; Men need not study much to gain you,
Since telling you your faults, will entertain you.

Epilogue spoken by Mrs. Marshall to Philaster.

THough change all times, both practise and allow,
Women were never left as we are now.
VVe blame the Inconstant Gallants of the Age,
But yet the Pit is nothing to the Stage.
You leave us one; by one; they, all at once,
And unprovok'd, our company Renounce.
We put e'm to no Charge, no House i'th' Fields,
No damask Coach, which the last Guinnie, yields.
And yet they left us; had they been like you,
We had kept e'm sure, till they, or we, got new.
Gallants; your Fathers with one sex made shift,
[Page 20]Sure out's of pleasing; has the better gift.
A bearded Princess their concern could move,
Why may not now, a beardless Prince make Love.
Nor should soft lines; for youth, and beauty meant,
Be on Men's blew, and wither'd faces spent.
We have all that Modesty pretends to prize,
And what we want, is hid from vulger eyes.
It is all one to us, but 'twill appear,
'Tis much your cheapest way to keep us here.

A Lampoon on the Greenwich Strowlers.

1.
OH! Assist me you Powers, who have Rhimes a command
For I faith I've a weighty business in hand sing
Of the late Greenwich Strowlers I'me now going to
But all things in order—first, God save the King
2.
Hem; hem; now put we off to the matter,
On Easter Sunday, the Raskals took water.
Where landing at Greenwich they agreed that a shar [...]
Should be settled o'th' Sculler, instead of his fare.
3.
Then up they march'd to the sign of the Bull,
Where asking for Lodging, quoth the folks we are ful.
But weel see for some for you, and so with that wheadle
Ud's, lid exit's the Landlord, and enter the Beadle.
4.
With that their chief Actor begins for to bristle,
Quoth he, p'shaw waw' let the Beadle go whistle.
For I can; and he did too produce straight a Pattent,
That had the Kings Hand and Seal, and all that in't.
5.
Well this rub of fortune is over; but stay,
They call for a Reckning, there's six Pence to pay.
Now mark how damn'd fortune these Strowlers do's cozen
They Pawn all their stock to pay the half dozen.
6.
But promising th' Host that he should Tricket free,
See their Plays every day, and his whole family.
He releases e'm straight, and now all the rabble;
Marcht up to go lye in their Play-house—a Stable.
7.
This fortunate stable had Faggots in it
Which serv'd to seat all the House but the Pit,
For that was more decently spread I confess
With straw to secure 'em from horse dung and piss.
8.
Now he that sate here, had much the better place,
He broke not his neck though he wetted his Ar—
For by th' ill succe [...]ve disposure of th'other
Folks saw, and they tumbled too, one ore another.
9.
I confess they had never a Scene at all,
They wanted no copy, they had th' original,
For the windowes being down, and most part of the roof,
How could they want Scenes, when they had prospect enough.
10.
Now will we suppose that Monday is come,
And the Play is proclaymed by beat of a Drum
Faith now you are supposing, let it be Tuesday morn,
For of Monday I know no more then the child un­born.
11.
Its said that they Acted not upon Monday,
Something was wanting, and so they lost one day,
They send unto London, what's lacking is gotten
And so on the next day, wy'e all things did cotten.
12.
The Prizes they took, were a Londoners groat,
A Gentlemans size, but his skipkennels pot,
The Townsmen they let in for drink and good chear,
The School boys for peace, and the Seamen for fear.
13.
On Tuesday at three a clock I was we'e 'em,
I kist their doorkeeper and went into see 'em,
Being enter'd an Actor straight brought me a stool,
Hee'd a held my cloak too, but I wa'nt such a fool.
14.
The first that appear'd when I was come in
With her train to her ankles, was who but the Queen
She civilly made me a curtsy and straight
Retired to sit on her Fagots of state.
15.
Then in came the King with a Murtherous mind,
Gainst his new married Queen which when I did find;
I call'd him a side, and whispering in's Ear,
Desired him to fetch me a Flagon of Bear.
16.
Theres twelve pence said, I take the rest for your pains,
Your Servant said he Sir, sweet Mr. Haines.
His Majesty faith, I must needs say was civil,
For he took up his Heels, and ran for't like a Devil,
17.
Mean time I addrest my self to his Bride,
And took her into the tireing House side;
A hay loft it was which at a dead lift,
Instead of a better serv'd then for a shift.
18.
But mark the Fate of her Civility,
The Players did rant both at her and me:
And therefore because for fear she'd be lack'd,
I ordred the Drummer to beat a long Act.
19.
[Page 25]He beat and he beat, but no Queen appear'd,
He beat till at length the house was all clear'd;
By my Troath a sad loss, but to make e'm amends▪
I threw e'm a Crown, and we were all Friends:
And so this Renowned History ends.

SONG.

1.
Maid, CHaron Charon come away,
Bring forth thy Boat and Oare;
That I poor Maid may make no stay,
But Row me to some Shore.
2.
Charon VVho cal's on Charon in such hast,
As if they suffer'd Pain:
I carry none but pure and Chast,
Such as true Love hath Slain.
3.
Maid, Oh! carry me within thy Boat,
I'le tell thee a true Love's Tale?
[Page 26]With sigh's so deep, when as we float,
Shall serve us for a Gale.
4.
Charon I Come I come, sweet Soul I come,
Thy Beauty does so charm me;
Come in my Boar, take there a Room,
Nor Wind nor Rain, shall harm thee.
5.
Maid, And now I am within thy Boat,
I'le sing thee a true Love Song:
My Eyes shall shed a Sea of Waves,
To float our Boat along.
6.
Charon. But what's become of those hard hearts,
That Virgins did not pitty
They live within Virginia parts
VVhere Pluto built his City.

A Song.

SInce we poor slavish Women know,
Like men we cannot pick and chuse;
To him we like, why say we no,
And both our time and labour lose,
By our put off's, and fain'd delayes:
A Lovers appetite we pall,
And if too long the Youngsters stays,
His stomack's gon for good and all.
2.
Or our impatient amorous Guest,
Unknown to us away may steal;
And rather then stay for a Feast,
Take up with some course ready Meale:
VVhen oppertunity is kind,
Let prudent women be so two,
And if the man be to her mind.
Be sure she do not let him go.
3.
The match soon made, is happiest still,
For Love has only there to do,
Let no one Marry gainst her will,
But stand off when her Parents woe;
And to the Suitor be not coy,
For they whom Joynture can obtain:
To let a Fop her bed injoy,
Is but a lawful VVench for gain.
HOw many Lovers Poetry has got
No mistress by so many Rivals saught.
And sure to be so courted, shee's the first,
That was so very poor and very curst.
All her enjoyments too, is but a name,
Yet coy of that, nor safe in her own Fame.
The vain Gallants that unto Poetry,
Or women do pretend, in this agree,
Each thinks his Mistriss sure, and in despite,
Though he ner'e hopes to gain her, swears he might.
Another Damme Lover with a smile,
Cry's I could have her, were it worth the while.
Say's tother, would I court this Rich ming dame,
Gad I could shew the world both salt and flame,
One line should Not be high, and th'other sinking,
But Iac and Tom Pox take em, keep me drinking.
Against such censurers we do declare,
Before they plead they should be cal'd to'th Barr.
To Judges places, these ought not to rise,
That for degrees have done no exercise.
For some who did pretend to the most wit,
Have not made out their claims when they have writ,
By those contentions, should not sure be saught,
When their own titles are in question brought,
Those judges he allowes whose claims are clear,
For those he thinks are few and less severe.

SONG.

1.
IN few words I'le describe a Fanatick knave,
That snarles and knowes not what he would have,
Pray mark but the tricks of this prick ear'd slave,
Which no body can deny.
2.
Hee'd kill his King, to preserve his cause,
Hang honest men in defence of the Law's
And this he saies is a legal cause,
Which no body, &c.
3.
He flyes from the scripture, and stands to the Word,
Protests the Gospel must come in by the Sword,
But that the Devil is his good Lord,
Ther's no body can deny.
4.
He prayes by the spirit two hours at least,
And spends in edification the rest,
With an Evil spirit he is possest,
Which no body can deny.
5.
His Text you shall find in a States Declaration,
His doctrine is an association,
Rebellion is his application.
Which no body can deny.
6.
He bids Plunder, and tells 'em the meek must inherit
He had rather be guilty of Murder then merit,
And these he cryes up for the fruits of the spirit.
Which no body, &c.
7.
He talks of the Miter, but would strike at the Crown,
And stands for the publick advance and his own,
He will have smocks up, and Surplices down.
Which no body can, &c.
8.
A Church is prophane and a barn do's as well
Where the holy sister her wants may tell,
But verely this is a codpeice zeal,
Which no body can deny.

SONG

1.
PRide for the most part,
When we lose a Sweet-heart;
VVill make us dissemble and seem to disdain,
The conquest which we, can no longer maintain.
But such was my Love, and such was my Lover,
That in spite of my Pride I my Griefe did discover.
2.
Though short was my Raign,
Yet I will not complain;
VVhen Pleasure grow dull then a Lover may range,
And seek fresh delights in some happy new change.
The Devils in her that will have a poor man,
Still Love, and still Love, when he has Lov'd all he can.

SONG.

1.
TO her Beauty I'le pay
My devotions each day,
That all jaunty delights will me give,
Though her soul do expire,
Phenix-like in loves fire,
Yet again her enjoyments do's live.
2.
With a brisk Aerie spark,
At Spring Garden or Park,
In Glass Coach or Balcony thus free,
She will vanquish all hearts,
With her Boon Meen and parts,
Shee's the heaven on earth unto me.

Prologue.

HE who comes hither with design to hiss,
And with a bum revers'd, to whisper Miss,
To comb a Perriwig, or to shew gay cloathes,
Or to vent Antique nonsence with new oathes,
Our Poet welcomes as the Muses friend,
For hee'l by irony each play commend.
Next these we welcome such as briskly dine,
At Locket's, at Iiffords, or with Shatiline.
Swelld with Pottage, and the Burgundian Grape,
They hither come to take a kindly napp.
In these our Poet don't conceive much harm,
For they pay well and keep out benches warm,
And though scarce half awake some Playes they dam
They do't by wholesale, not by Ounce and Dram.
But when feirce Criticks get them in their clutch,
They're crueller then the Tirannique Dutch.
And with more art, do dislocate each Scene,
Then in Amboyna they the limbs of men.
They wrack each line, and every word unknit,
As if they'd find a way to cramp all Wit.
They are the terror of all adventurers here,
The very objects of their hate and fear,
And like rude Common-wealths they still are knit,
'Gainst English Playes the Monarchy's of wit,
[Page 34]They invade Poetique Lisence; and still raile,
At Plays to which in duty they should vaile?
Yet still they infest this coast to fish for jeasts,
To supplyment their Wits at City feasts.
Thus much for Criticks: to the more generous Wit,
Our Poet Frankly, does each scene submit;
And begs your kind Alliance to ingage,
Those Hogen interlopers of the Stage.

Epilogue.

OUr next new Play, if this Mode hold in vogue,
Shall be half Prologue, and half Epilogue.
The way to please you is easie if we knew't,
A jigg, a Song, a Rhime or two will do't.
When your i'th vain: and sometimes a good Play,
Strangly miscarries and is thrown away;
That this is such our Poet dares not think,
For what displeases you's, a wast of Inke:
Besides this Play was writ nine years agoe,
And how times alters, Ladies you best know;
Many then, fair and courted, I dare say,
Act half as out of Fashion, as our Play.
Besides if you'd consider't well, you'd find,
Y' have altered since, ten thousand times, your mind;
And if your humours do so often vary,
These in our Commedy must needs miscarry?
[Page 35]For as you change, each Poet moves his Pen,
They take from you their Characters of Men.
The Wit they write, the Valour and the Love,
Are all but Coppies, of what you approve;
Our's follow'd the same rule, but does confess,
The love and humour of that season less.
And every Artist knows that Coppies fall,
For th'most part short of their Originall.

A Song.

VVHen first my free heart was surpriz'd by desire
So soft was the Wound, and so gentle the Fire;
My sighes were so sweet, and so pleasant the smart,
I pitty'd the Slave who had ne'r lost his heart;
He thinks himself happy, and free, but alass!
He is far from that Heaven, which Lovers possess.
In Nature was nothing, that I could compare,
With the beauty of Phillis, I thought her so fair:
A Wit so divine all her sayings did fill,
A Goddess she seem'd; and I mention'd her still
With â Zeal more inflam'd, and â Passion more true,
Then â Martyr in flames, for Religion can shew.
More Vertues and Graces, I found in her mind,
Then Schooles can invent, or the Gods e're design'd;
She seem'd to be mine by each glance of her Eye,
(If mortals might aim at â blessing so high)
[Page 36]Each day, with new favours, new hopes she did give;
But alas! what is wish'd, we too soon do believe.
With awfull respect, while I lov'd and admir'd,
But fear'd to attempt, what so much I desir'd;
How soon were my Hopes, and my Heaven destroy'd,
A Shepherd more dareing, fell on and enjoy'd:
Yet, in spight of ill Fate, and the pains I endure,
I will find a new Phillis, to give me my Cure.

A SONG.

LOves dareing flight, is unconfin'd,
No Laws can reach his soaring Wings,
More free then Air, or pathless wind,
Or sec et thoughts form'd in a youthfull mind.
Above the power of the highest Kings;
The Gods (if there were any more,
Besides great Love) by him were made;
His favour they did all implore.
His Darts they all obey'd,
Their deities by his, did shine or fade.
The lasting fame bold Haeroes win,
The sacred vertues you admire;
All that the World can glory in,
By Loves assistance did at first begin.
[Page 37]Your beauty's rais'd from this Promethean fire:
VVhom Love inspires, though dull before,
Becomes accomplish'd, wise and brave,
To conquer her he doth adore.
The glories which you have,
Your Lovers passion, and their praises gave.
Then ask not how I dare aspire,
Before your sacred shrine to kneel,
And after my ambitious fire.
For were your Beauty, and your Title higher,
Love would betray the pains, you make me feel.
If you are scornful and severe,
You add new Vigour to my flame:
And make it still more bright appear:
If I possess my aim,
My happyness shall never spot your Fame.
Though I should feast my greedy Eyes,
And ev'ry minute steal â Kiss;
Tast all those joyes men Idolise,
Your summ of pleasures still as high would rise.
Nor would you have one charming grace the less,
But if our wishes equal are;
In Loves Elyzium, you shall Raign,
And by our secret am'rous War.
That Paradise obtain,
Which all the graver World have sought in vain.

A SONG.

1.
FAir was my Mistress, and fine as a Bride,
That is deck'd in her wedding attire,
Her eyes do's protest, I shall not be deni'd,
And yet I dare hardly come nigh her,
I seem'd to be sad, and she smil'd,
Which I thought did a kindness betray,
Then forward I go,
But was dash'd with a no,
Yet came off with a ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Hey, ha ha ha ha ha.
2.
Strange was she then as a politick Nun,
And I found my first courting was lost,
Her frowns put me farther then when I begun,
O see how poor Mortals are crost,
I then made another assault,
When her kindness began to display,
[Page 39]And I brought her to this,
That she gave me a kiss,
And came off with a ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,
Hey, ha ha ha ha ha.
3.
High was my courage, but more my desire,
Which fed my addresses with force,
That you could not distinguish whose eyes had most Fire.
Or who had the prettiest discourse,
Agreed we lay'd down and tumbled
Till both were a weary of play,
Though I spent a full share,
Yet by Cupid I swear,
I came off with a ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,
Hey, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

SONG.

1.
FArewel dear Revechia my joy and my grief,
Too long I have lov'd you and found no releif,
Undone by your Jaylor too strict and severe,
Your eyes gave me Love and he gives me despair
Now urg'd by your interest I seek to retire,
Far off from the cause of so hopeless a fire.
To stay near you still, were in vain to torment,
Your ears with a passion you must not content.
2.
To live in the Countrey with fooles is less pain,
Then still to endure an unwilling disdain,
You'r the cause of my exile, and far off I'le go,
That none of my suffrings you ever may know.
But if some kind fate, you should chance to convey
And through woods where i've been your journey should lay.
Your name when you find upon every tree,
You'l say poor Alexis! 'twas written by thee.

On Calliope retiring to her Spring. Song.

1.
SAcred to Love and Harmony,
And to the Fair Calliope,
There is a Spring, by Heav'n desig'nd,
To feed a Melancholly mind:
Hither, when bigg with sighs and tears,
The troubl'd Deity repairs,
And with those Crystal dropps the spring augments,
Pouring into the Nymph her discontents.
2.
So Nero to a Hill retir'd,
When Rome by his command was fir'd,
And on his Harp contemptuosly,
Play'd the sad City's Elegy;
As here, when to her conq'ring eyes,
Mankind's a flaming sacrifice,
Calliope insultingly retreats,
And with her Voice and Lute, her scorn repeats.
3.
Her voice th' harmonious Swans admire,
And in attention half expire;
Catching the Eccho of each sound,
And drunk with aire, and almost drown'd.
Charming Calliope! thy voice controul's.
Even the passions of our soules!
Charm me yet more, that dying, I may be
A Sacrifice, to Harmony and Thee.

Mad Tom of Bedlam.

FOrth form the Darke and Dismall Cell,
And deep abiss of Hell.
Poor Tom is come to view the VVorld agen,
To see if he can cure his distempered Brain.
Fears and Cares oppress my Soul,
And hark how the angry Furies houle.
Pluto laughs and Proserpine is glad,
To see poor Tom of Bedlam mad.
Through the world I wander night and day,
To seek my stragled sences;
In an angry mood, I met old Tom,
VVith his Pentarch of tences;
When me he spi'd,
Away he hi'd;
For time will stay for no man,
In vain with cryes,
I rend the Skyes,
For Pitty is not common.
Cold and comfortless I lye,
Help! Oh help, for Charity.
[Page 43]Hark, I hear Appoll's teame:
The Carman gins to whistle,
Chast Diana, has bent her Bow,
And the Bore begins to bristle.
Come Vulcan with Tooles and with Jackles,
Come knock off these troublesome Shackles:
Bid Charles make ready his wain,
To bring me my Sences again.
Last night I heard the Dog Star bark,
Mars met with Venus in the dark;
Limping Vulcan het an Iron bar,
And furiously ran at the God of War.
Mars with his Weapon laid about,
But Limping Vulcan, had the Gout,
His broad Horns did hang so in's light,
He could not see, to aim his blow aright.
Mercury the nimble Post of Heaven,
Stood still to see the Quarrel:
Gorbellyed Bacchus Giant like,
Bestrid a great Bear Barrel.
To me he drank,
I did him thank,
But I could get no Sider,
He drank whole Butts,
[Page 44]And split his Gutts:
But mine were nere the wider.
Poor Tom is very dry,
A little Drink for charity;
Hark, I hear Acteous horn:
The Huntsman whoopes and hollows,
Bowman, Ringwood, Ropter, Joylen, ho, ho:
At the Chase now followes.
The man in the Moon, drinks Clarret,
Eats powder'd [...]if, Turnip and Carret;
But a glass of old Malago Sack,
Will fire the Bush at his back.

Upon his Dead Mistress, represented in a Dream.

UNkind! And cruel fancy too!
Mocking my Sences to renew,
The mem'ry of that face!
VVhich (Death) tyrannically took,
On purpose he might gaze, and look:
And all his empire grace.
For, as, wild sullen, fettered Beasts, do tyre
Themselves by strangling; and put out their fire,
So, my unrully grief, it self had tam'd,
Which now, by fresher Passion is enflam'd.
2.
Were there but hopeing from the Grave,
I wou'd to sorrow, live a Slave;
And wait for her return,
Or, stifle craftily my Breath
With sigh's; if proud, and stubborn death
Wou'd lay me in her Urne:
But he's too fond of her, there she must stay,
Where I access want, since he guards the way.
I'le chide no more then; Fancies! use thy skill,
That I may dream such killing pleasure still.

An Epithalamium.

1.
THough so many say that chance is
Sole disposer of our lives,
That our actions and our fancies
It directs and gives us Wives,
Yet the story here Divine is,
Past the reach of mortal sence,
Hee's mistaken, whose designe is
To prevent a Providence.
2.
There was neither Birth nor Beauty,
Made these years Parenthesis,
Fitting accidents and duty
Did, before deny the bliss.
Since they now embrace each other,
With a just and mutual fire;
May their passions never smother,
Or their spirits fail desire.
3.
Happy be your first embraces,
So to answer both your flames,
That when either time defaces
You restor'd be in your names.
Prudence let your deeds contrive all,
Free from jealousie and rage,
Death alone let be your Rival,
And the challenge brought by age.

SONG

THe beams of Lovers sparkling Eyes,
Such strange misterious powers dart,
They make their object sympathize,
And feel the flames that fire their heart,
If this were true, as reason seems to prove
You cannot be insensible of Love,
2.
Fires active Element ascends
Loves passion is defin'd a flame,
[Page 48]If then my heart too high pretends
Ambition doth its truth proclaim.
Love sometimes bowes, though flames still upward move,
So heavenly Cinthia did Endimion love.
Love does of life and death dispose
Commands as cheif in Court and Feild,
Then how can I a Prince oppose
To whom the greatest Kings do yeild.

SONG.

1.
HOw charming are those pleasant pains
Which the succesful Lover gains,
Oh how the longing spirit flies,
From searching sighs, on dying eyes.
Whose intermixing rayes impart,
Loves welcome message to the heart.
2.
Then how the active Pulse grows warm,
To every sence gives the Alarm,
But oh the raptures and the qualmes
When Love unites the melting palmes,
[Page 49]What extasies, what hopes and fears,
What pretty talk, and Amourous tears.
3.
To these a thousand Vowes succeed,
Oh then oh Heavens the secret deed;
When Sence and Soul are bath'd in bliss,
Think dear Arminda, think on this.
And curse those hours we did not prove,
The ravishing delights of Love.

CATCH.

JAck drink away,
Thou hast lost a whole minute,
Hang Wenches and Play.
There's no pleasure in it;
Faith take tother glass,
Though the Nights old and grey,
We may all have a pass,
To the Grave before Day.
And in the cold forsaken Grave,
There's no drink Jack, no drink,
No wine nor women, can we have:
No company but Worms that stinck.
Then name thy own health, and begin it.

SONG.

1.
CAlina you see
How from Court the new fashion,
Has Conquer'd the Nation
All Lovers must be,
None but Phanaticks oppose the invasion
Then pray why should we.
2.
Hang conscience and fear,
I am secret and Loyal,
No envious espyal
Shall frighten my Dear.
That blush was so sweet, I can take no denyal
Nor longer forbare.
3.
Nay strive not in vain,
I'le orecome thee with kisses,
Such pleasure as this is,
Would make love again.
Despise his high state, to partake of our blisses
Then who can abstain.
4.
O these are the sweets,
Which none can discover
But the secret Lover
Great Coesar ne're meets
A joy more sublime, though he is first mover
To Love he submits.

SONG.

IN vain my dear Muse, you coyly refuse,
What Nature and Love do inspire,
That formal old way, which your mother did use,
Can never confine the desire
It rather adds Oyl to the fire.
2.
When the tempting delights of Wooing are lost
And pleasures a duty become,
We both shall appear, like some dead Lovers Ghost,
To frighten each other from home,
And the genial bed like a Tomb.
3.
Now low at your feet, your fond Lover will lye
And seek a new fate in your eyes,
One amorous smile, will exalt him so high
He can all but Aminda despise,
Then change to a frown and he dies.
4.
To love, and each other we'l ever be true,
But to raise our enjoyments by Art,
We'l often fall out, and often renew:
For to wound, and to cure the smart,
Is the pleasure which captives the Heart.

SONG.

GIve over foolish heart, and make hast to despair,
For Daphne regards not thy vowes nor thy pray'rs.
When I plead for thy passion, thy pains to prolong,
She Courts her Gyttar, and replyes with a Song.
No more shall true Lovers, thy Beauty adore,
Were the Gods so severe, men would Worship no more.
2.
No more will I wait like a Slave at the door,
I'le spend the cold Nights, at thy windore no more.
My Lungs in long sighs, no more I'le exhale,
Since thy Pride is to make me grow sullen and pale.
No more shall Amintas thy Pitty implore,
Were the Gods ingrate men would Worship no more.
3.
No more shall thy frownes or free humour perswade,
To court the fair Idoll my fancy hath made;
When thy Saints so neglected their follies give o're,
Thy dieties lost, and thy beauties no more.
No more— &c.
4.
How weake are the Vowes of a Lover in pain,
When flater'd by hope, or opprest by disdain.
No sooner my Daphnes bright eyes I review,
But all is forgot, and I vow all a new:
No more cruel Nymph, I will murmer no more,
Did the gods seem so fair, men would VVorship them more.

A SONG.

VVIth so much ease ungrateful Swaines,
Your faithless Vowes have cured your pains.
You think by those, your perjuries betraid,
That all are false▪ or else may so be made;
And every smile of pleasing word proclaims,
The coldest Nymph, an offering to your flames.
2.
Vain Shepheard know, that now's the time,
To suffer for thy boasted Crime:
Repeated Vowes with me less credit find,
Then smiling Seas, or the uncertain Wind.
Deep Sigh's and frequent Tears, as things of course,
So common are, that they have lost their force.
3.
Thy passions Truth will best appear,
Disguised in doubts, and guilty fear!
when all the heart and carefull Tongue conceale,
The sense disordered, and the eyes reveale.
Such darke confusion makes the Flame shine bright,
So Stars are best discerned through shades of night.
4.
One stolne look, can better woe,
Then Sighs, and Tears, and Vowes, can do.
The falsest tears, like empty vessels sound,
But may thy feigned become a real wound;
That thy severer pennance may declare,
How great mens crimes, and womens vertues are.

A Poem.

FAirest Clariza, when you read,
This rudness of my mornings Muse,
My Pardon let my Passion plead.
But how can Guilt a Crime excuse:
Then to your goodness only, I appeale,
The Wounds your Justice makes, let Pitty heale.
I court Occasion but in vain,
My restless passion to relate,
From your entrancing Lips to gain;
The knowledge of my doubtful Fate.
You are my sacred Oracle, from whom,
The sentence of my Life, or Death, must come.
Prophetick influence of Stars,
Henceforth I will no longer prize,
[Page 56]Nor search the fate of Peace or VVars,
But in your more resplendant Eyes.
If you but smile, Fate cannot cast me down,
So highest joyes will vanish when you frown.
Nature wants Language to impart,
The real Paradise of bliss,
With which your smiles possess my heart:
If there be Heaven on Earth, tis this.
If I had all mans boundless wish, would have,
I'de slight whole Empires, to become your Slave.
How tedious six short Suns appear,
Which vail your beauty from my sight,
Each flying minute seemes a year.
An Age is shorter then a Night,
But when dull time, the long wish'd day has brought,
The treacherous hours, out fly the swiftest thought.
Impatience ne'r revealed my Love,
To silent Screams or whispering Air,
I trust no melancholy Grove:
With Echoes of my sad dispair.
Friendship and Duty lose their interest here,
To none—but you, my passion shall appear.
All human actions must obey,
The sure decrees of powerfull Fate,
From their prescriptions none can stray;
Nor of themselves or love, or hate.
[Page 57]We must, or must not, tis designed above,
Perhaps my fate must be, to dye for Love.

On his Mistress going from home. SONG.

1.
SO does the Sun withdraw his Beames,
From off the Northern coasts and streames▪
VVhence Clouds and Frosts ensue,
And leaves the melancholy Slaves
Stupid and dull, as near their Graves.
Till he their joyes renew;
Those that in Green land, followed game,
Too long, and sound when back they came.
Their shipping gon, believ'd they must dye,
Ere Succor came, but yet more blest then I.
2.
How Soon our happyness does fly,
Like Sounds, which with their Echoes dye.
And leave us in a Trance,
Bewailing we had ere enjoy'd,
The blessing, since tis still destroyed.
[Page 58]By some unhappy chance,
Why should the spightful stars agree,
To vex and mock mortality.
For thus like Traytors which in darkness lye
W'are only brought into the light to dye.
3.
In dreames things are not as they seem,
Elce, what's fruition but a dream,
When the possessions past
Alas! to say, we were, we had,
Is poor content and een as bad
As if w' had ne're had tast.
Fire in great Frosts, small time possest
Produces pain instead of rest.
So does the short enjoyment of such bliss
And till restored, continual torment is,

SONG.

THose tricks and bowes
And amorous vows,
I defie and never will need 'em
For he that's taken with Puppet showes
Never new the price of freedome.
2.
I defie the thoughts of loving
Approving
Tis a crime
For my fancies alwayes moving
To the vain expence of time.
3.
All the wisest count it folly,
Nor shall I
Be so mad,
To rul'd by Melancholly,
Or any effect as bad.
[Page 60]But Ile have my mind,
Still unconfin'd
And my thoughts as free as fire,
My humour still rove with the wind,
And never know Lovers care,

SONG

.1
SInce tis now become a fashion,
To court all with equal passion
And admires now do prove,
There is as well in love
As in blood, a circulation.
2.
I'me resolved to stand the sally,
Of the sutlest Lovers volley,
And when his vowes are out,
To let him move about,
To his other Kate or Molley.
3.
Though I can allow his courting,
For my present fancies sporting,
Yet I never will admit
A Passion, Love or wit
Without some years supporting.
4.
If his humour sympathizes,
With the same that mine advises,
Be he pleasant as he will,
Ile answer it but still
Keep a guard against surprises.

A SONG.

1.
VVHilst Alixis lay prest
In her armes he lov'd best,
With his hands round her Neck,
And his head on her breast.
He found the fierce pleasure too hasty to stay,
And his soul in the tempest just flying away.
2.
When Coelia saw this,
With a sigh and a kiss,
She cr'yd, oh my dear, I am rob'd of my bliss;
'Tis unkind to your love, and unfaithfully done
To leave me behind you, and dye all alone.
3.
The youth though in hast,
And breathing his last,
In pitty died slowly, whilst she dyed more fast;
Till at length she cry'd, now my dear, now let us go,
Now dye my Alixis, and I will dye too.
4.
Thus in tranc'd they did lye,
Till Alixis did try,
To recover new breath that again he might dye,
Then often they did; but the more they did so,
The Nymph did more quick, and the shepherd more flow.

A SONG.

HAng the trade of versifying,
Tis lying.
But in tune,
For some will be denying,
That a Rose is fresh in Iune.
2.
Besides the brother Poets,
Or shew Wits,
Are some firce,
That one can pretend to no witt;
Without the exchange of a Verse.
3.
They aim at praise,
And write for the Bayes:
Yet all they mention's, a story,
And old Ben himself in the best of his days,
Ne're knew such a thing as Glory.
4.
To make up their Rhimes,
They'l change our times,
And make what is old seem new,
They'l tell you a tale, in a moddle of Chimes.
But the Devil a bit 'tis true

To his Mistress with a pair of Turtles.

DO happy Birds my Suit renew,
Let her perceive that I like you,
Excel in constancy,
But you each other do possess,
Mine's an inferiour happiness,
She payes no love to me.
My constancy may greater then be thought,
Since I to love a cruel Nymph, am taught.
You do but pay each others Love with Love:
But I by loving scorn, do kinder prove,
If then more love then you I boast,
Why should I more in love be crost.
Or not with hers be blest,
It is the heigth of my desire,
That I might but perceive my fire
Had warm'd my Coelia's Breast.
Oh could you speak, you certainly wou'd prove,
That 'twere but justice to give love for love;
Which though I cann't expect, I'le outvie
You Turtle Doves, in matchless constancy.

A rural Dance at a Shrop shire Wake.

VVEll met Ioan; let us hast to the Wake,
For our honour lies at Stake.
Didst thou see Tom, when he went to the Green,
In gay cloathes, as ere were seen.
With Nan and Doll
Kate and Moll,
Lads and Lasses that are brave Dancers,
Will and Dick
Hodge and Nick;
All these are the next advancers.
Trust me Ioan thou dancest best,
And art fairer then the rest:
Thou shalt now the Garland wear,
Else I'le nere be seen at Fair.
There be stree
And to thee
I will plight my faith to love she,
Say then Ioan
Shall my moane
Or Vowes have power to move thee.
Grant me that I'le sigh and vowe,
Till thou saist I'le love thee now.
[Page 66]I'le give thee Ale and suger Cakes,
And carry thee to all our wakes.
Pipeing Will
Singing Sill,
Shall be summoned, to our Wedding.
Andrew Tit
Wat and Kitt,
Shall eat Posset at our Bedding.
Now Joan, I find to my content,
That thy silence gives consent;
Let us married be to day,
For I can no longer stay,
Pris and Hodge
Iames and Madge,
Come a long to this our Feasting,
Smile not Ioan
Y'are to blame,
For you'l find it is no jeasting.

To his Mistress grown common. A SONG.

VVHat Empire (Coelia) equal'd mine,
When I alone reign'd ore all thine;
When all thy glories did as aptly wait,
On my Devotion, as my heart wou'd ha't
When both thy heart and eyes,
All other objects did despise.
And like a sacred Votaress didst make,
Me thy dear Saint, and hence thy Bliss didst take.
Then in what pride I liv'd, to know that thee,
VVhom the world ador'd, wer't rul'd by me.
.2
But now like Forreigners, thine Eyes,
Do gaze on all, to take a Prize.
That beauty which once center'd upon me,
Is now diffus'd, and like the Sun, shine free.
My vowes and tears pass by,
Yet know vain Coelia! that I
Can quietly into my self retire,
VVithout the danger of a second fire:
And scorn thy partial Love, tis seldome known,
A Prince admits a sharer to his Throne.

To his Mistress in Love with another. SONG.

DIsdainful Chlona, canst thou despise
That flame which had its rise
From thy fair Eyes;
Or which is crueller
Canst thou to mine prefer,
Anothers dull flame.
Wilt thou dispence thy love or hate,
Unequally, like partial Fate.
Who, though it be most rigorous to some,
For others yet reserves a milder Doom.
2.
If loving most, may from you most obtain,
Consider with what pain.
And envious care
I often have beheld,
What you did my Rival yeild,
Keeping my fire
Oh if you partially proceed,
Think, how you make your off-Spring bleed;
When natures dictates, do the Mother bind,
Equally to her Children to be kind.

To his formerly scornful Mistress, though now kind, as applying himself to his Study.

NO proud Insultress, know my love,
Is now fix'd rightly far above
The reach of fortunes frown or thine
Nor maist thou hope 'twill ere decline:
On thee again,
Here 'twill remain.
Secure from folly to reward,
With like contempt this disreguard:
For here as on Olimpus plac'd, I spie
The giddy World mislead by foolery.
2.
My love, this will never dye,
Since here I have variety:
Then hope not it will so debase,
It self to doat upon thy face,
It was thine hate
That did create.
[Page 70]To me this happyness, and so
Thy form at first did prove my foe;
For gazeing like an harmless Forreigner,
On thy bewitching features, I did erre.
3.
But to my self, return'd thy pride,
Deservedly, I do deride.
And seated here I do defie,
The wanton glaunces of thine Eye,
Then mourn and chide,
Th' excess of pride.
That made thee lose that heart which now,
With all thy Arts thou cans't not bow;
Since now with more delight I dayly prove
The pleasures of revenge, then those of love.

A SONG.

CLoris I burn behold and view,
And cool me with a sigh from you;
I Fry in flames and still Consume,
Although the Pill be all Perfume.
2.
To be in Oyl of Roses drown'd
Or Water, wher's the difference found,
Both bring one death, and death will be,
Unwelcome any way to me.
3.
Then gentle Maid some pitty show,
Distroy not him, that loves you so:
A lass I call, but ah, I see
There is no hope in store for me.

SONG.

SO closly, closly prest,
In his Clymena's Armes young Damon lay,
Panting in that transport so over blest:
He seem'd just ready, just to dye away:
Clymena beheld him with amourous Eyes,
And thus betwixt sighing and kising she cries.
Oh make not such hast to begon,
Tis too much unkind,
While I stay behind▪
For you to be dying alone.
2.
This made the youth now drawing to his end,
The happy moment of his death suspend:
But with so great a pain,
His flying Soul he did retain;
That with himself he seem'd at strife,
Whether to let out Love, or keep in Life.
Then she who already was hasting to Death,
Said softly, and trembleing, and all out of breath:
Oh! now my dear let us go,
Dye with me Damon, for now I dye too;
Thus dyed they but 'twas, of so secret a death,
That so to dye again, they took new breath.

SONG.

AWay with this legal Fruition,
The pennance of Flegmatick love,
Devised by some old Polititian:
Whose sinewes, no longer could move.
Since wenching is modest, and beauties is common
Why should we wed the defects of a woman.
2.
The Husband has all the vexation,
The quarrels and care of the Sheets,
Fair Perriwigs and Fops, in'th Fashion;
For nothing enjoy all the sweets.
Since, &c.
3.
If the Wife has witt, beauty or portion,
Fine cloathes and Gallants must be had,
She followes the Court for Promotion!
And high for the new Masquerade.
Since, &c.
4.
When the Chaos was made a Creation,
And all things in order did move,
The wisest in every nation
Went into all they did love.
Since, &c.
5.
Each bout is a feast of new pleasure,
To those that may any where feed,
The Bees have all natures sweet treasure
But Drones are confin'd to a weed.
Since wenching is modish and beauties is common
Why should we wed the defects of a woman.

The Willow-wearing Lovers disconsolate Complaint.

1.
VVHen first I beheld my fair Philomels face,
She appear'd like an Angel to me,
But [...]hen her dear love
She vouchsaf't me to prove,
I was blest with what mankind could be.
2.
She has toy'd and has talk'd, when abroad we have walk'd
And at home all delights have exprest
Her discourse and her parts,
Would have ravish'd all hearts
That ever with her had convers'd.
3.
When we were alone, then I gaz'd on her face,
And the more I did gaze I admir'd
No words I could speak,
Least my heart it should break
But with sigh's it told what I desir'd.
4.
Her frown's would sometimes put me into dispair,
But her smiles did create me new bliss,
Though my death had me seiz'd,
Yet if she were but pleas'd:
She could give me new life with a kiss.
5.
In fine all perfections that ever were seen,
(In all beauties,) in her did abound,
With Loves sweets most divine,
Did my Philomell shine;
Oh! her Parrallel's not to be found.
6.
But mark what false fortune unto me has done,
My delights were too great long to stay,
For those sweets which she sware,
Should increase ever more:
In one moment all vanish'd away.
7.
For her faith she has broak; and denies me those joyes
VVhich in freedome, I oft have possest,
By her scorn's I'me betray'd,
[Page 77]And alass I am made;
The most wretched who was the most blest.
8.
VVith melancholly sighs I am tormented each day,
My discontents, hourly increase,
My mind is perplext,
And my heart sore opprest!
And my soul will ne're be at peace.
9.
Therefore oh you gods, I am firmly resolv'd,
Your power shan't my passion controule,
I'le dye for her sake,
And in death I make;
A Love offering to her of my Soul.

Prologue To the Knight of the burning Pestle.

IF any heer have ancient Records seen,
Of Amadis, or doughty Palmerin,
Of Squire, and Dwarf, and of enchanted wood,
And taken true delight in Gyants blood.
Such we invite with confidence, to laugh
At the stout Acts and Monuments of Ra'ph;
Of Ralph, who humbly does each Lady greet,
And layes his Burning Pestle at her feet.
This to the Learned; it does now remain,
We descend upward to the vulgar swain;
And gravely tell him, that our Fletchers wit,
Has here burlesqu'd all he himself had writ.
Burlesqu'd, that is has turn'd to ridicule,
As one would say, has wisely play'd the fool.
Mock-love, Mock passion, that is still to say,
He, as it were, has farcifi'd a Play.
This, Gallants, is that Play, which for your sake,
We now revive, and doubt not it will take.
For in our vertuous Age,
Not only every wit, Lampoons his brother,
But men are all burlosque to one another.
[Page 79]In Burgundy and Mant, the great ones rayle.
But then blind sides are found in Mum and Ale.
Therefore laugh on, and rally all you can,
For ther's no fop like to your absent man:
The world will laugh at all you do or say,
Then laugh you, for a clubs an equal lay,
As good fall on, since you are sure to pay.

Epilogue.

THe Prologue durst not tell, before 'twas seen,
The Plot we had to swinge the Mayden Queen,
For had we, then, discover'd our intent,
The Fop, who writ it, had not giv'n consent.
Or the new peaching trick at least had shown,
And brought in others faults to hide his own.
That wit he has been by his betters taught,
When he's accus'd to shew another's fault,
When one wit's hunted hard, by joynt consent
Another claps betwixt and does prevent,
His death; for many Hares still foyl the scent.
Thus our poor Poet would have scap'd to day,
But from the heard I singled out his Play.
Then Heigh along with me—
Both great and small you Poets of the Town,
And Nell will love you, or to run him down.

Prologue to Horace, spoken by the Dutches of Munmouth, at Court.

VVHen Honour flourish'd ere for price 'twas sold'
When Rome was poor, and undebauch'd with gold,
That vertue which should to the world give law
First under Kings, its Infant breath did draw:
And Horace, who, his Soveraigns Champion fought
Its first example to republiques taught.
Honour and Love, the Poets dear delight,
The field in which, all Modern Muses fight;
Where gravely Rhyme, debates what's just and f
And seeming contradictions pass for witt.
Here in their native purity first grew,
E're they th' Adulterate arts of Stages knew.
This Martial story, which through France did come,
And there was wrought in great Corneliu's Toom.
Orinda's matchless Muse to Britain brought,
And Forreign Verse, our English Accents taught;
So soft that to our shame we understand,
They could not fall, but from a Ladies hand.
Thus while a Woman, Horace did translate,
Horace did rise above a Roman Fate.
[Page 81]And by our Ladies he mounts higher yet,
VVhile he is spoke above, what he is writ.
But his tryumphant Honours, are to come
When, mighty Prince, he must receive your Doom;
From all besides our Actors have no fear,
Censure, and Wit, are beauties Vassals here:
And should they with Rebellion, tempt their rage,
Our Basilisks, could shout 'em from the Stage!
But that their Fate, would be two great to dye,
By bright Sabina's, or Camilla's Eye.

SONG.

SInce Cloris you my passion know,
And every look my Love does show;
Since Intrest, which so long did Sway,
To your soft Rule, at last gives way.
A Slave to all the motions of your will,
Why would you ha' me Pine and Languish still.
I know you cannot love to see,
The many pains that torture me:
When at your Feet my self I lay,
You alwayes turn your Eyes away.
Beauty a softness from its nature takes,
Which cannot look upon the Wounds it makes.
In scorn you can no pleasure find,
For constant Love perverts your mind:
Nor do you think, while thus to one,
You give your charming self alone.
Much of your youth and beauty needs must wast,
For there's no one can half their sweetness tast.
When you hereafter wiser grow,
And further joyes in Love shall know;
With what regret will you repent,
[Page 83]The time you've in unkindness spent!
Trust me, a thousand times you'l wish in vain,
To call those slighted Minutes, back again.

Prologue to a reviv'd Play.

OLd Playes, like Mistresses, long since enjoy'd,
Long after please, whom they before had cloy'd.
For fancy schews the Cudd on past delight,
And cheats it self to a new appetite.
But then this second fitt comes not so strong,
Like second Agues, neither fierce nor long;
What you have known before, grows sooner stale,
And less provokes you, then an untold tale.
That but refreshes what before you knew,
But this discovers something which is new:
Hence 'tis, that at new Playes you come so soon.
Like Bride-grooms, hott to go to bed ere noone!
Or, if you are detaind some little space,
The stincking Footman's, sent to keep your place.
But, when a Play's reviv'd, you stay and dine,
And drink till three, and then come dropping in;
As Husband after absence, wait all day,
And desently for Spowse, till bed time stay!
So, ere the brethren's liberall fit was spent,
The first wise Nonconformist, under went
VVith ease, and battend in imprisoment.
[Page 84]For greater gains his zeal refus'd the less,
Each day to him was worth a Diocess.
But he who now in hopes of equal gain,
Will needs be Pris'ner, tryes the trick in vain,
He melts in durance half his Grease away,
To get, like us, poor twenty Pounds a day.

To my friend, Master Tho. St. Serf.

BEfore we saw thy Play, dear Tom, we thought,
No Scotish Merchandize, was worth the fraught.
But we will trust thy Countrymen no more,
For you, we see, grow rich, as we grow poor:
You get the Bayes, while we get only Mocks,
As you got Prizes, while we got but Knocks.
We thought none Playes, but what were English made,
That wit like Wool had been our staple trade;
But thou hast found the trick, (as others do,)
Us with our own materials to undoe.
Henceforth we'l have a privy search decreed,
For every errant Muse▪ that passes Tweed:
A file of Covenanters, shall stop thee there,
And search thy Pack, for Anti kirkall ware.
Once, like a Pedler, they have heard thee brag,
How thou didest cheat their sight, and save thy crag;
VVhen to the great Montross, under pretence
O [...] godly bakes, thou broughtst intelligence.
[Page 85]But, hear ye, as a friend, let me advise,
Trust not too far, that national disguise.
If thou art caught no wit Grotisque can bribe em,
They'l never spare a man, that so can gibe em:
Nor is't the int'rest, of us English Poets,
To suffer any but our selves to grow wits;
To show great Nature in Heroique story,
Or in the Comique, Power, and Flame, and Glory▪
Once and a way, we let you make us merry,
With the rare vertues, of the Coffee Berry;
But shall grow jealous of your Muse, and hate her,
When we are hector'd on our own Threater.
And if a second time, you tread our Stage,
We, with the Kirk against you must ingage:
As two weak States, when they have struggled long,
Unite against a third, that grows too strong.

Epilogue, spoken by the Lady Mary Mordont, before the King and Queen, at Court, to the faithfull Shepheardess.

VVHen Princes in distress, would peace implore,
They first take care to chose th'Ambassadour.
And think him fittest for a charge so great,
VVho best can please that King with whom they treat▪
Our Play they threaten'd with a tragique Fate,
I, Sir, am chose for this affair of State.
And, hope, what ever errors we confess,
You'l pardon to the young Ambassadress.
If not though now these little Ladies are,
In no condition, to maintain a Warr:
Their beauties will in time grow up so strong,
That on your Court, they may revenge the wrong.

Prologue to Alburnazar.

TO say this Commedy pleas'd long a go,
Is not enough to make it pass you now:
Yet gentlemen your Ancestors had witt,
VVhen few men censurd, and fewer writ.
And Iohnson, of those few, the best chose this,
And the best modell of his master piece;
Subtle was got by our Albumazar,
That Alchamist by this Astrologer.
Here he was fashion'd, and I should suppose,
He likes my fashion well, that wears my Cloaths.
But Ben made nobly his, what he did mould,
What was anothere's Lead, became his Gold;
Like an unrighteous Conquerer he raigns,
Yet rules that well, which he unjustly gains.
But this our age such Authors does afford,
As make whole Playes, and yet scarce write a word:
VVho in this Anarchy of witt, rob all,
And what's their Plunder, their Possession call.
VVho like bold Padders scorn by night to prey,
But Rob by Sun-shine, in the face of day;
VVho scarce the common Ceremony use,
Of stand, Sir, and deliver up your Muse.
But knock the Poet down; and, with a grace,
Mount Pegasas before the owners Face.
[Page 88]Faith if you have such Country Toms, abroad,
Tis time for all true men to leave that Road.
Yet it were modest, could it but be sed,
They stript the living, but they rob the dead:
'Twill with the mummey of the Muses Play,
And make love to 'em, the Aegyptian, way.
Or as a Rhyming Authour would have sed,
Joyn the dead living, to the living dead.
Yet such in Poetry may claim some part,
They have the Licence, though they want the Art.
Such as in Sparta weight for Laurels stand,
Poets, not of the head, but of the hand;
They make their benefit of others studying,
Much like the meales of Politick, Jack Pudding:
Where Broth to claim, there's no one has the courage,
Tis all his own, after he has spit i'th' Porredge.
But Gentlemen, y'are all concernd in this,
You are in fault for what they do a miss:
For they their thefts will undiscover'd think,
And durst not steal unless you please to winck.
Now should we Letters of reprizall seal,
These men write that, which no man else would steale,

A SONG.

UPon yon pleasing plain,
Alexis thought, fair Cloris heart to gain;
And therefore he unto her every day,
Did sing, and on his Pipe would sweetly play:
Most pleasing Tunes to give delight,
Unto this beauteous Nymph so bright,
She that had wounded him with her fair sight.
2.
But the obdurate Maid,
Nought but unkindness to his sufferings paid;
For when of love, he unto her did speak,
And's passion sigh'd as if his heart would break.
Nothing prevail'd 'twas all in vain,
She slew from him in proude disdain,
And left Alexis, sadly to complain.
3.
Then to the neigbouring Grove,
Poor Swain he went, and there his hopeless Love.
[Page 90]Alone he mourn'd, and in that gloomey shade,
Did grieve that he her hate and scorn was made;
VVith pensive Lookes and Arms a cross,
In Tears he did lament her loss,
To whom all beauties in the world are Dross.
4.
Perplext a while he sate,
Upon the Ground, complaining of his Fate:
Against a Tree, he gently laid his head▪
In hope to sleep, but rest from him was fled.
He then start up, and once more went,
To her who caus'd his discontent,
To try if she would yet his Death prevent.
5.
Hard hearted Maid, said he,
VVhy dost thou hate him, that so doats on thee
My flock's I've brought, to feed with thine all day,
And we the while in harmless sports did play.
But when my love I did make known,
Then all my hopes too soon were gone,
A lass, you left me to lament alone.
3.
Cruel, but yet most fair,
Once more hear him whom you have made dispair.
[Page 91]VVill your severity ne're daign to give,
One kind return of Love, and let me Live:
Here at your Feet behold I lye,
And here by Heaven I vow to dye,
If you my passion still with hate deny.
7.
But all his plaints were vain,
She proudly scornd, to ease him of his pain;
Which when he saw nor Tears nor Prayers could mo
Her heart with Pitty, ere to yield him Love.
He sigh'd much more and nought could speake,
But Cloris with a voice so weak,
That as he cal'd on her, his heart did break.
8.
When Cloris saw him dead,
She stood a maz'd, her frighted spirits fled:
O're him she wept, and weeping she did say,
Stay deare Alexis, Cloris bids thee stay.
Then fetch'd a sigh, and faintly cry'd,
Alexis, I will be thy Bride,
And as she spoke these words, fair Cloris dy'd.

A SONG.

I Led my Silvia to a Grove,
Where all the Boughs did shade us,
The Sun it self, though it had strove,
It could not have betray'd us;
The place securd from humane eyes,
No other fear alows,
But when the winds do gently rise:
And kiss the yielding Boughs.
Down there we sate upon the Moss,
And did begin to play,
A thousand wanton tricks to pass,
The heate of all the day.
A many kisses I did give,
And she return'd the same,
Which made her willing to receive:
That which I dare not name.
My greedy eyes no ayds requir'd,
To tell their Amorous Tale,
On her that was already fir'd;
'Twas easie to prevaile.
I did but kiss and claspe her round,
Whose they my thoughts exprest,
[Page 93]And laid her gently on the ground:
Oh! who can guess the rest.

A Song to a Scotish tune.

COme my Phillis, let us improve,
Both our joy of equal love,
Whilst we in younder shady Grove.
Count Minutes by our kisses.
See the flowers how sweetly they spread,
And each displayes his colour'd head,
To make for us a fragrant Bed.
To practise ore new blisses;
The Sun it self with love does conspire,
And sends abroad his Ardent fire,
And kindly seemes to bid us retire.
And shade us from his Glory;
Then fairest come and do not fear,
All that your Slave desires there,
Is Phillis, what you love to hear
Him say; that he does adore you.
2.
Ah! Phillis, if you love me so,
As you perswaded me long a go,
[Page 94]Why should you now refuse to do,
What you so oft have vow'd me;
Did I ere your bounty abuse,
Or your our severest Commands refuse,
Nay rather chose to Languish then to lose.
The perfect respect I ow'd you,
Yet Phillis, some reward is due,
To him who dayly does renew.
The passion which he has for you,
Is a faithfull Lover,
Then come my dearest be not shy,
Thou knowst my heart, and my secresie
Wait not this oppertunitie,
When none can our joyes, discover.
3.
Phillis, in vain you shed these tears,
VVhy do you blush, which speak your fears,
There's none but your Amintas hears,
VVhat meanes this pretty passion
Can you fear your fancies will cloy,
Those that the blessings do injoy,
Oh, no such needless fears destroy.
This niceties out of Fashion,
When thou hast don by Pan I sware,
Thou wilt unto mine eyes appear,
A thousand times more charming and fair,
Then thou weart to my first desire.
That smile was kind: and now thou'rt wise,
[Page 95]To throw away that coy disguise:
And by the vegor of thy eyes,
Declare thy youth and fire.

Song to a Schotish tune.

VVHen Iemmy, first began to Love,
He was the finest Swain:
That ever yet a flock had dorve,
Or danc'd upon the Plain:
'Twas yea that I, way's me poor heart,
My freedome threw a way,
And finding sweets in every smart;
I coud not say him nay.
And ever when he spoke of Love,
He would his eyes decline.
And every sigh, woud take a heart,
Gued faith and why not mine:
He'd press my Hand, and kiss it oft,
His silence spoke his flame,
And whilst he treated me thus soft:
I wisht him more to blame.
Sometimes to feed my flocks with him,
My Iemmy would invite me,
There he the gayest Songs, would sing;
On purpose to delight me.
[Page 96]And Iemmy every grace displeas'd,
Which were enough I trow,
To conquer any princely Maid,
So did he me I vow.
But now for Iemmy must I mourn,
Who to the Wars must go,
His sheephook to a sword must turn;
A! lass what shall I do.
His Bag-pipe into warr-like sounds,
Must now exchanged be,
Instead of Garlands, fearfull Wounds;
Then what becomes of me.

Damon being asked a reason for Loveing.

PHillis, you ask me why I do persue,
And Court no other Nymph but you;
And why with eyes, and sighes, I do betray,
A passion which I dare not say:
His cause I love, and if you ask me why,
With womens answers, I must make reply.
You ask what Arguments I have to prove,
That my unrest proceeds from Love.
[Page 97]You'l not believe my passion till I show,
A better reason why tis so;
Then Phillis let this reason serve for one,
I know I love, because my reasons gon.
You say a love like mine must needs declare,
The object so belov'd, not fair;
That neither witt nor beauty in her dwell,
Whose lover can no reason tell:
Why 'tis he does adore, or why he burns;
Phillis, let them give such that have returnes.
For by the self same reason, which you use,
Damon might justly, you accuse:
Why do you scorn and with a proud disdain,
Receive the Vowes, but slight the Swain;
You say you cannot love, yet know no cause,
May I not prove my love, by your own Lawes,
Am I not youthful, and as gay a Swain,
As ere appear'd upon the Plain:
Have I not courted you withal t'adress,
An amourous Shepheard could profess;
To add to this, my Flocks and Heards, are great,
Yet this will scarce my happyness compleat.
Thus you no reason for your coldness give,
And tis but just, you should believe;
That all your beauty unadorn'd by art,
Have hurt, and not oblig'd my heart.
[Page 98]Be kind to that, return my passion too,
And I'le give reason why I love you so.

SONG.

VVHen reason ore my heart did sway,
Then subject passions did obey:
And freedom, still I most did crave,
Not thinking e're to be Loves slave;
Till he most cunning, by surprize,
Stole in, and fixt my wandring eyes.
2.
My reason then by passion led,
With pleasing joys, my fancy fed;
Which for a time, did so transcend,
I thought they ne're could have an end:
And nothing then, did grieve me more,
Then that I had not lov'd before.
3.
When at my freedome I did range,
My joy uncertainly did change!
My pleasures still methoughts were scant,
And still my joyes did something want;
Till in her center fixt by love,
Satiety of sweets I prove.
4.
Blest with loves chains, I thus did live,
But for it could no reason give:
My pleasures were too sweet to last,
And by disdain were soon o're cast.
Anothers flame her heart assaults,
Which prov'd her love to me was false.
5.
My love then scorn'd, dy'd with disgrace,
And reason once again took place;
When reason comes, love must depart,
Both ne're at once, liv'd in a heart:
Strange that I should so foolish prove,
And thus to be mislead by love.

SONG.

LOng did fair Phillis love a Swain,
Who as 'twas thought repaid again:
With interest her kindness
Their love's but flocks, not equal were,
The only cause of all their fear:
This prov'd god Cupids blindness.
2.
With equal flames, a while they burn,
When one, both did rejoyce or mourn;
Their hearts so were fetter'd
Yet a new love did him succeed,
Which prov'd the first, was but for need,
Though may be 'twas not better'd.
3.
A Gallant comes, Gallants can do,
Much with young Maids, and old ones too;
And lovingly accost her,
The unjust Nymph, did court his flame,
More eagerly then e're the Swain;
Did hers before he left her.
4.
The Swain forgot, the match is made,
With the new love, though as 'twas said;
He had no mind to marry,
Hymen to light his Torch they call,
The Nymphs and Swains invited all,
To see him reach his Quarry.
5.
But providence the Marriage crost,
Just at the time the Bride-groomes lost;
When he should be a doing,
It cost her many sighs and tears,
With little joy and many fears,
E're Hymen ends the woeing.
6.
This womans folly plainly shews,
Who still withdraw their smiles from those.
Who love and most affect them,
Which fortune on themselves return,
And commonly does make them burn:
For those that most neglect them.
7.
Some sor [...]y were, but many smil'd,
[Page 101]And said the Nymph the Swain beguild;
Because he did not at her,
Some cry'd the plains he would desert,
Or that despair would break his heart:
But faith 'twas no such matter.

SONG.

TRuest joy must arise,
From a womans bright eyes.
For there is the perfectest bliss,
Till we can obtain,
Betwixt pleasure and pain,
The injoyments that follow a kiss.
2.
For love after scorning,
And joy after mourning;
Are alwayes far better accepted,
Then that love which we gain,
Without trouble or pain:
From a Mis, who us never neglected.
3.
For when with a home-touch,
She is tickled so much;
That it makes her cry oh; it does hurts me,
Oh! oh! then does succeed,
Those true pleasures indeed;
Which what Paradise is' dos instruct me.

SONG.

FOnd man that hopes to catch a face,
Whose every grace
Will strick thy heart, with an amazing terror,
Her beauties shine
So like divine;
That they'l convince thee of thy foolish error.
2.
Mark but that glance, which now did fly
From her bright Eye,
And tell me then, can any Mortal draw,
A Line by art
Like that fierce Dart;
Which all the subject world can keep in awe.
3.
Hark to that heavenly voice which can,
Transport a man.
Beyond the raptures of the heavenly Sphears,
As soon you may
Create a day:
Or sweet Aurora's beauties Lymn, as hers.
4.
Leave then thy bold attempt to Fate
Who must create,
New fancy which must heavenly power receive,
For grant that here,
Apellis were;
She as his fruites the Birds, would him deceive,

SONG.

NO justice he had, that first did approve,
To cast down high Honour, and set up fond Love.
Though love we confess, has the antienter state
Yet old things we see, growes most out of date.
2.
Love after injoyment, does seldome prove good,
But Honour, for ever, does raign in the blood;
That just like the Smoke, does quickly expire,
But this does for ever, remain like Fire.
3.
Love must unto Honour, precedency give,
That dyes with the Subject, when Honour does live:
'Tis that that keeps love out of the Dust,
For love without honour, at best is Lust.
4.
To be scorned in Love, is a most cruel Fate,
And thus we prove Honour, the happier state:
For old things we know, must give place unto new,
Then cast back fond Love, and give Honour her due.

A Country Diologue.

Will.
GOod Morrow Dolly, I Salute thee,
After our own Country way,
Doll.
Now by my Maiden-head Will, I thank thee;
And good Morrow to thee I say.
Will.
Your Maiden-head you pretty Dowdy,
What a simpering look thou hast,
M [...]hinks thou showst a pretty maiden
In all parts, below thy wast.
Doll.
And why below my wast I pray you,
There I'me cover'd with my Cloaths,
Will.
I but I once saw something naked;
Made my Teeth hack in my Hose.
Oh Doll I mean my Occilliaries,
Such geer I think thou ne're did see,
Things that will please thee without measure
And these poor Rogue, I'le give to thee;
For hark thee Doll, I'me come to woe thee,
Thou knowst my mind and what I meane,
[Page 105]I'le give thee that shall fill thy belly,
Wast thou near so poor or leane;
I'de fain be married, prethee tell me,
When shall be our wedding day,
Doll.
First let me know how well you love me:
Then you shall hear what I will say.
Will.
I love thee Dolly more and better,
Then our Browny, love's her Calf,
Oh Doll my tongue can never utter;
All my love to thee nor half.
Tis even such my dearest Dolly,
Though I not angry am at all,
That with my Teeth I could tear from thee:
All thy Cloathes, thy Smock and all.
Oh love me then, thou pretty Doxcy,
Which am thy true and faithfull Lover,
Quench thou my fire which else will burn;
And straight way make my Pot run over.
Doll.
VVell, if your love be so exceeding,
As you do protest and say;
I can no longer then deny you,
But yeild to love without delay.
And we'l be married my dear hony,
To morrow morn with all my heart,
Will.
I am glad we have agreed so quickly:
And from thee I'le never part.
Doll.
[Page 106]
Prethee kiss to bind the bargain,
Thou shalt be all my love and joy,
I long my dear till we are Married,
That we might alwayes kiss and toy.
Will.
Kiss thee my Dolly, I faith will I:
Oh! there is a Breath most sweet▪
But yet tis something strong at p [...]ting,
And doth smel like stinking Feet.
Doll.
Kiss me again, again I pray thee,
Oh there, oh there; Oh that, oh that.
Will.
Zounds, and she be so mad of Kissing,
She'l run stark mad of you know what.
Doll.
What time i'th morning wilt thou fetch me,
O if I shall come to thee;
Name but the time, and I'le wait on thee,
Thou shalt not stay one jot for me.
Will.
No no, I'le fetch thee but be ready,
Least the time us over-slip,
Doll.
Oh! for remembrance let me hug thee,
And take my farewell of thy Lip.
Ah me! that kiss as sweet as Hony,
Makes me long and much desire,
To tast those sweets I oft heard on
[Page 107]Which are rais'd by Cupids Fire.
I'le straight go home and make me ready,
Then will I wait till you do call.
Will.
Do for to morrow night, I tell thee,
We will play at uptailes all;
We'l dance a dance, I faith shall please thee:
Up and down, and never miss,
Instead of turning we'l keep dancing,
And when we have done then we will kiss;
Thoud'st wish that thou mightst dance so ever,
Oh 'twill give thee such content,
Doll.
I shall not sleep for thinking on thee,
And of our next nights merriment.
But now we know each other's meaning,
Let's prepare against the night,
I may enjoy those sports thou talkst of,
VVhich will yeild me such delight.

Coridons, Contemplation.

VVHen Sue and Moll a milking went,
Then Will and I hied thither,
And as they milk'd by them we lay,
Makeing our Love's together.
2.
He complemented his dear Moll,
And so did I my Sue:
Oh! never yet was men so blest,
With th' love of two so true.
3.
For when their milking they had done,
Then did begin our bliss,
We lay upon the Ground and talk'd,
We tumbled and did kiss.
4.
Till two long hours was quickly spent,
In such sweet harmless pleasure,
As Maids will to their Sweet-hearts give,
VVhen they have time and leasure.
5.
VVith Sillibubs, with Cake and Cheese,
VVe eat and drunk our fill,
VVhich these poor Rogues had brought with them,
For me and honest Will.
6.
Moll, gave to Will a new las'd Band,
She bought it at our Fair,
It's fellow pretty Sue had got,
And gave it me to wear.
7.
But now poor Maid's they must go home.
No longer durst they stay,
Moll kiss't her Will, and Sue kiss't me,
Then sighing went away.
8.
Oh! such true Love's, was never heard on,
Nor ever yet was seen,
In all the Country far and neer,
As they to us have been.
9.
Therefore at th' VVake's we'l carry them,
VVhere ere the Fidlers play,
VVe'l give 'em Sider, Ale and Cakes,
And dance with none but they.

The Wood-Man's Song.

THis way, this way, come and hear,
You that hold these pleasures dear;
Fill your ears with our sweet sound,
Whilst we melt the frozen Ground.
2.
This way come, make hast, oh fair,
Let your clear eyes guild the Aire:
Come and bless us with your sight,
This way, this way, seek delight.

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