When out came the book which the newsmonger took From the preaching lady's letter, 10 Where, in the first place, stood the conqueror's face, Which made it shew much the better. But now, without lying, you may paint him flying, And now came the post, save all that was lost; By a trick so stale, or else such a tale This made Mr. Case with a pitiful face 15 20 Tho' his mouth utter'd lies, truth fell from his eyes, Which kept the Lord Mayor from sleeping. Now shut up shops, and spend your last drops 25 For the laws, not your cause, you that loath 'em, Lest Essex should start, and play the second part Of the worshipful Sir John Hotham. 28 BETWEEN SIR JOHN POOLEY AND MR. THOMAS KILLIGREW. POOL. To thee dear Tom! myself addressing, Destitute of my wonted gravity Making efforts with all my puissance, I got (as one may say) a nuisance. S KIL. Come leave this fooling, Cousin Pooley, 10 And in plain English tell us truly Why under th' eyes you look so bluely? Tis not your hard words will avail you; When young you led a life monastic, Now in your age you grow fantastic. POOL. Without more preface or formality, A female of malignant quality Set fire on label of mortality; The faces of which ulceration 20 KIL. Then, Cousin, (as I guess the matter) 25 You have been an old fornicator, And now are shot 'twixt wind and water. Your style has such an ill complexion, That from 30 Whether it pullen be or shanker, F Or tho' your piss be sharp as razor, 40 Do but confer with Dr. Frazer, He'll make your running nag a pacer. Nor shall you need your silver-quick, Sir; 45 But you that are a man of learning, Methinks t'wards fifty should take warning. * Once in a pit you did miscarry; That danger might have made one wary : This pit is deeper than the quarry. · POOL. Give me not such disconsolation, Having now cur'd my inflammation, To ulcerate my reputation. Tho' it may gain the ladies' favour, 50 55 And I will rub my mater pia, To find a rhyme to gonorrhea, And put it in my litania. во *Hunting near Paris he and his horse fell into a quarry. PREFACE. My early mistrest, now my ancient Muse, We had not known the sentence nor th' offence. S 10 35 |