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At stage, as courts; all are players. Whoe'er looks

(For themselves dare not go) o'er Cheapside books, Shall find their wardrobes' inventory. Now The ladies come. As pirates, which do know That there came weak ships fraught with cutchanel,

The men board them; and praise, as they think,

well,

Their beauties; they the men's wits; both are bought.

Why good wits ne'er wear scarlet gowns, I thought This cause; these men, men's wits for speeches

buy,

And women buy all red which scarlets dye.
He call'd her beauty lime-twigs, her hair net:
She fears her drugs ill-lay'd, her hair loose set.
Would not Heraclitus laugh to see Macrine
From hat to shoe, himself at door refine,
As if the presence were a mosque; and lift
His skirts and hose, and call his clothes to shrift;
Making them confess not only mortal

Great stains and holes in them, but venial
Feathers and dust, wherewith they fornicate:
And then by Durer's rules survey the state
Of his each limb, and with strings the odds tries
Of his neck to his leg, and waste to thighs.
So in immaculate clothes, and symmetry

Perfect as circles, with such nicety

Our court may justly to our stage give rules, 220
That helps it both to fools-coats and to fools.
And why not players strut in courtiers' clothes?
For these are actors too, as well as those.
Wants reach all states: they beg but better dress'd;
And all is splendid poverty at best.

225

Painted for sight, and essenced for the smell, Like frigates fraught with spice and cochineal, Sail in the ladies: how each pirate eyes So weak a vessel, and so rich a prize! Top-gallant he, and she in all her trim; He boarding her, she striking sail to him: 'Dear countess, you have charms all hearts to hit!'

230

And 'sweet sir Fopling, you have so much wit!'
Such wits and beauties are not praised for naught,
For both the beauty and the wit are bought. 235
"Twould burst ev'n Heraclitus with the spleen,
To see those antics, Fopling and Courtin:
The presence seems, with things so richly odd,
The mosque of Mahound, or some queer pagod.
See them survey their limbs by Durer's rules,
Of all beau-kind the best-proportion'd fools! 241
Adjust their clothes, and to confession draw
Those venial sins, an atom or a straw:
But, O! what terrors must distract the soul,
Convicted of that mortal crime, a hole;

245

220 To our stage give rules. By the act for licensing plays. Lord Chesterfield opposed this act, observing keenly, at the end of his speech, My lords, wit is the property of those who have it; and very often the only property they have. Luckily, my lords, we are otherwise provided for.'-Warton.

As a young preacher at his first time goes

To preach, he enters; and a lady, which owes
Him not so much as good-will, he arrests,

And unto her protests, protests, protests,

So much as at Rome would serve to have thrown
Ten cardinals into the inquisition;

And whispers by Jesu so oft, that a
Pursuevant would have ravish'd him away
For saying our Lady's psalter. But 'tis fit
That they each other plague; they merit it.
But here comes Glorious that will plague them
both,

Who in the other extreme only doth

Call a rough carelessness, good fashion:

Whose cloak his spurs tear, or whom he spits on,
He cares not, he. His ill words do no harm
To him; he rushes in, as if Arm, arm,'

6

He meant to cry; and though his face be as ill As theirs which in old hangings whip Christ, still He strives to look worse; he keeps all in awe; Just like a licensed fool, commands like law. Tyred, now I leave this place, and but pleased

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Or should one pound of powder less bespread Those monkey-tails that wag behind their head! Thus finish'd, and corrected to a hair,

They march to prate their hour before the fair. So first to preach a white-gloved chaplain goes, With band of lily and with cheek of rose, Sweeter than Sharon, in immaculate trim, Neatness itself impertinent in him.

251

Let but the ladies smile, and they are bless'd: Prodigious! how the things 'protest, protest.' Peace, fools! or Gonson will for papists seize

you,

If once he catch you at your 'Jesu! Jesu!' Nature made every fop to plague his brother, Just as one beauty mortifies another.

256

But here's the captain that will plague them both, Whose air cries Arm!' whose very look's an

oath :

6

261

The captain's honest, sirs, and that's enough,
Though his soul's bullet, and his body buff.
He spits fore-right; his haughty chest before,
Like battering-rams, beats open every door; 265
And with a face as red, and as awry,
As Herod's hang-dogs in old tapestry;
Scarecrow to boys, the breeding woman's curse,
Has yet a strange ambition to look worse;
Confounds the civil, keeps the rude in awe,
Jests like a licensed fool, commands like law.
Frighted, I quit the room, but leave it so
As men from jails to execution go;

270

256 Or Gonson. A well-known police magistrate, the sir John Fielding of his day.

Go through the great chamber (why is it hung
With the seven deadly sins?) being among
Those Askaparts,* men big enough to throw
Charing-cross for a bar; men that do know
No token of worth, but queen's man, and fine
Living; barrels of beef, flaggons of wine.
I shook like a spied spie. Preachers which are
Seas of wit and arts, you can, then dare,
Drown the sins of this place; but as for me,
Which am but a scant brook, enough shall be
To wash the stains away: although I yet,
With Maccabees modesty, the known merit
Of my work lessen, yet some wise men shall,
I hope, esteem my writs canonical.

* A giant famous in romances.

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