Sivut kuvina
PDF

EP

Are not your Frenchman neat? Mine, as you fee,
I have but one, Sir, look, he follows me.
Certes they are neatly cloathd. I, of this Mind am,
Your only Wearing is your Grogaram.
Not for Sir, I haue mare. Under this Pitch
He would not fly; I chafd him: But as Itch
Scratch'd into Smart, and as blunt Iron grown'd
Into an Edge, hurts worse: So, I (Fool) found,
Crossing burt me. To fit my Sullennefs,
He to another Key his Stile doth dress;

And asks, what News? I tell him of new Playes, · He takes my Hand, and as a Still whick fayes"

A Sembrief, 'twixt cach Drop, he niggardly, : ; As loath to inrich me, fo tells many a Ly. More than ten Hollensheads, or Halls, or Stows, Of trivial houfhold Trash: He knows, he knows When the Queen frown'dor fmild, and he knows what

A subile States-man may gather of that; He knows whom loues whóm ; and whom by Poyfon Haftes to an Office's Reverfion; . Who wasts in Meat, in Clothes, in Horse, he notes, Who loveth Whores, and who Boys, and who Goats. He knows wha bath fold his Land, and now doth beg A License, old Iron, Boots, Shoes, and EggeShels to transport ; Mortly Boys hall not play At Span-counter, or Blow.point, but mall pay Toll to fome Courtier ; and wiser than all us, He knows what Lady is not painted. Thus He with home Meats cloyes me. I belch, Spue, Spit, ** Look pale and fickly, like a Patient, yet He thrust on more, and as he had undertook, To say Gallo-Belgicus without Book; Speaks of all States and Deeds that have been fince The Spaniards camé, to th' Lofs of Amyens. .. . Like a big Wife, at Sight of loathed Meat, .. Ready to travail : So I sigh and sweat

[ocr errors]

To hear this Makaron talk : In vain, for yet,
Either my Humour, or his own to fit,
He like a privileg'd Spie, whom nothing can
Discredit, libels now gainst each great Man.
He names a Price of every Office paid ;
He saith, our Wars thrive ill, because delay'd;
That Offices are intaild, and that there are
Perpetuities of them, lafting as far
As the laft Day; and that great Officers
Do with the Spaniards pare, and Dunkirkers,

I more amaz'd than Circe's Prisoners, when
They felt themselves turn Beasts, felt myself ther ,
Becoming Traytor, and methought I saw
One of our Giant Statutes ope his Faw,
To fuck me in for hearing him : I found
That as burnt venomous Letchers do grow found

By giving others their Sores, I might grow · Guilty, and he free: Therefore I did how

All Signes of Loathing ; but fince I am in,
I must pay mine, and my Forefather's Sin
To the last Farthing. Therefore to my Power
Toughly and fubbornly I bear this Cross; but the Hower
Of Mercy now was come : He tries to bring
Me to pay a Fine to 'scape his Tort uring,
And fayes, Sir, can you spare me? I faid; willingly;
Nay, Sir, can you spare me a Crown? Thankfully I
Gave it* as Ransom ; but as Fiddlers, still,
Though they be paid to be gone, yet needs will

Thrust one more Jigg upon you ; fo did he
With his long complemental Thanks vex me:
But he is gone, Thanks to his needy Want,
And the Prerogative of my Crown: Scant
His Thanks were ended, when I (which did see ..
All the Court fill'd with more strange Things than he )
Ran from thence with such, or more Haste than One
Who fears more Actions doth hafte from Prifon.

[ocr errors][ocr errors][subsumed]
[ocr errors]

(*) A Show of the Italian Gardens in Wax-work, in the Time of King James the Firs.

« EdellinenJatka »