This b'ing refolv'd, with equal fpeed
And Conduct, he approach'd his Steed,
And with Activity unwont
Affay'd the lofty Beaft to mount
Which once atchiev'd, he fpurr'd his Palfry, To get from th' Enemy, and Ralph, free : Left Danger, Fears, and Foes behind,
And beat, at least three lengths, the Wind.
TELL, Sidrophel! tho' 'tis in vain
To tamper with your crazy Brain,
Without Trepanning of your Scull
As often as the Moon's at Full;
'Tis not amifs, e'er y' are given o'er,
To try one defp'rate Med'cine more ;
For where your Cafe can be no worse,
The defp'rat'ft is the wifeft course.
Is't poffible that you, whofe Ears,
Are of the Tribe of Ifachar's,
And might (with equal Reason) either
For Merit, or Extent of Leather,
With VVilliam Pryn's, before they were
Retrench'd, and crucify'd, Compare,
Should yet be deaf against a Noife
So roaring as the Publick Voice?
That speaks your Virtues free and loud,
And openly in ev'ry Crowd,
As loud as one that fings his Part
T'a Wheel-barrow, or Turnip-Cart
Or your new Nicknam❜d old Invention
To cry Green-Haftings with an Engine ;
(As if the vehemence had stunn'd,
And torn your Drum-heads with the Sound)
And 'cause your Folly's now no News.
But over-grown, and out of Ufe,
Perfwade your felf there's no fuch Matter,
But that 'tis vanish'd out of Nature
When Folly, as it grows in Years
The more extravagant appears:
For who but you could be poffeft
With fo much Ignorance, and Beaft,
That neither all Men's Scorn, and Hate,
Nor being laugh'd and pointed at,
Nor bray'd fo often in a Mortar,
Can teach you wholfom Sence and Nurture
But (like a Reprobate) what courfe
Soever's us'd, grow worfe and worse?
Can no Transfufion of the Blood,
That makes Fools Cattel, do you good;
Nor putting Pigs t'a Bitch to Nurse
To turn 'em in to Mungrel-Curs,
Put you into a way, at least,
To make your felf a better Beaft?
Can all your critical Intrigues
Of trying found from rotten Eggs,
Your feveral new-found Remedies
Of curing Wounds, and Scabs in Trees 3
Your Arts of Fluxing them for Claps,
And purging their infected Saps 3
Recov❜ring Shankers, Crystallines,
And Nodes and Botches in their Rinds,
Have no effect to operate
Upon that duller Block, your Pate?
But ftill it must be lewdly bent
To tempt your own due Punishment
And, like your whimsi'd Chariots, draw
The Boys to courfe you without Law;
As if the Art you have fo long
Profeft, of making old Dogs young,
In you, had Virtue to renew
Not only Youth, but Childhood too.
that understand all Books,
By judging only with your Looks,
Refolve all Problems with your Face
As others do with B's and A's,
Unriddle all that Mankinds knows
With folid bending of your Brows;
All Arts and Sciences advance,
With screwing of your Countenance
And with a penetrating Eye,
Into th' abstrusest Learning pry:
Know more of any Trade b' a Hint,
Than those that have been bred op in't;
And yet have no Art, true or falfe,
To help your own bad Naturals?
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