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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 Noise
So roaring as the Publick Voice ?
That speaks your Virtues free and loud,
And openly in ev'ry Crowd,
As loud as one that sings his Part

T'a Wheel-barrow, or Turnip-Cart
Or your new Nicknam'd old Invention
Tu cry Green-Hastings with an Engine ;
(As if the vehemence had stunn'd,
And torn your Drum-heads with the Sound)
And 'cause your Folly's now 110 News
But over-grown,

and out of Use Perswade

your

self there's no such Mattet,
But that'tis vanilh'd out of Nature ;
When Folly, as it grows in Years
The more extravagait appears :
For who but you could be possest
With so much Ignorance, and Beast,

That

'

1

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 wholsom Sence and Nurture :
But (like a Reprobate) what course
Soever's us’d, grow worse and worse?
Can no Transfusion of the Blood,
That makes Fools Cattel, do you good;
Nor putting Pigs ť a Bitch to Nurse
To turn ’em in to Mungrel-Curs,
Put you into a way, at least,
To make your self a better Beast?
Can all your critical Intrigues
Of trying found from rotten Eggs,
Your several new-found Remedies
Of curing Wounds, and Scabs in Trees 3
Your Arts of Fluxing them for Claps,
And purging their infected Saps ;
Recov’ring Shankers, Crystallines,
And Nodes and Botches in their Rinds,
Have no effect to operate
Upon that duller Block, your Pate?

Kk

But

your Face

But still it must be lewdly bent
To tempt your own due Punishment;
And, like your whimsi'd Chariuts, draw
The Boys to course you without Law;
As if the Art you have so long
Profest, of making old Dogs young,
In you, had Virtue to renew
Not only Youth, but Childhood too.
Can
you,

that understand all Books,
By judging only with your Looks,
Resolve all Problems with
As others do with B's and A's,
Unriddle all that Mankinds knows
With solid 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 false,
To help your own bad Naturals?

But

But still the more you strive ťappear,
Are found to be the wretcheder;
For Fools are known by looking Wise,
As Men find Woodcocks by their Eyes.
Hence'tis that 'cause y• ’ave gain do'th Coléges
A Quarter-Ihare (at moft) of Knowledge,
And brought in none, but spent Repute,
Y assume a Pow'r as Absolute
To Judge and Censure, and Controll,
As if you were the sole Sir Poll;
And faucily pretend to know
More than your Dividend comes to ;
You'll find the thing will not be doric
With Ignorance, and Face alone :
No, though y' have purchas'd to your Name
In History fo great a Fame,
That now your Talent's so well known,
For having all Belief out-grown;
That ev'ry strange Prodigious Tale
is measurd by your German Scale
By which the Virtiiofi try
The Magnitude of ev’ty Lyez

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Cast up to what it does amount,
And place the big'st to your Account.
That all those Stories that are laid
Too truly to you, and those made,
Are now still charg'd upon the score,
And lesser Authors pam'd no more.
Alas! that Faculty destroys,

Those foonest it designs to raise ;
And all your vain Renown will spoil
As Guns o'er-charg'd the more recoil;
Though he that has but Impudence,
To all things has a fair Pretence;
And put among his wants but shame,
To all the World may lay his claim :
Though you have try'd that nothing's born
With greater ease than Publick Scorn

j
That all Affronts do ftill give Place
To

your impenetrable Face; That makes your way through all Affairs, ; As Pigs through Hedges creep with theirs. Yet as ’tis Counterfeit, and Brass, You must not think’twill always pass;

For

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