Ned Ward

“ And eat their very Roots without it,
For fear the Cream should prove contagious,
And make 'em, like the Cows, outragious;
For no Distemper, Plague, or Sadness,
Infects the English like to Madness. ”

“ For Cowards always are too crafty
To doat on Honour more than Safety.
Just so the Preston Herd, unskill'd
To keep the Town or win the Field,
Before the Royal Troops appear'd,
Talk'd big, as if they nothing fear'd,
And with good Wine and Nappy warm'd,
Threaten'd much more than they perform'd;
For few had Courage to withstand
The Danger, when 'twas near at hand,
But rather than to boldly run
The risque of what themselves begun,
To please and flatter Cow'rdly Nature,
Postpon'd one Hazard for a greater.
Two gallant Chiefs they had, 'tis plain,
That is, two Heads, but ne'er a Brain ”

“ And sporting Nature, to amuse us,
Did startling Novelties produce us,
Mocking our Archimedean Sons
Of Art with strange Phæmomenons,
As puz'ling to our Math'maticians,
As new Distempers to Physicians,
Who, with their Terms of Art, oft hide
Their Ign'rance to support their Pride,
Like Pedants, who to gloss their Errors,
Talk Latin to unletter'd Hearers.
Tho' many wond'rous Things appear'd,
And such as justly might be fear'd,
To be Forerunners of some strange
Destructive Plague, or fatal Change,
Like those sad Omens that foretold
The downfal of the Jews of old ”

“ And climbs the Tables of the Great.
O wretched Times, when People fear'd
Their Chops with Custard should be smear'd,
Lest the Cow-plague should seize their Skulls,
And make 'em all as mad as Bulls! ”

“ More Cattle than the Plague annoy'd;
For not a worthless Runt past Thriving,
Wh'in Lanes and Commons sought her Living,
But dy'd, if not of Pest, by Slaughter,
Because o'th' Money that came a'ter:
For Hay was dear, and Grass but scarce,
Which made Lean Cattle fare the worse,
And caus'd their Owners to dispatch 'em,
For fear the Plague should not attack 'em. ”

“ And hungry Red-Coats in their Quarters;
Dreading to catch, from Cow or Ox,
The Plague, who never fear'd the Pox.
So the Fair Mistress of the Town,
When Young and Wholsome, will go down,
But with the Crinkums once infected,
She's by the meanest Rake rejected.
Nor was the Flesh alone refus'd,
But Milky Diets much disus'd:
Pudding, that universal Dish,
The Swain's Delight, the Plowman's Wish,
The Housewife's Pride, the Husband's Choice,
The darling Food of Girls and Boys,
Now dwindl'd to such low esteem,
'Twould scarce go down, tho' made of Cream ”

“ Here Neptune's Slaves, who ply'd the Ferries,
And us'd to row the Town in Wherries,
Made Whigwams now of Tilts and Sails,
And dealt in Brandy, Wines and Ales,
To gain by Ice what they had lost
By want of Water and by Frost.
So common Jilts, those drudging Jades,
When Winter Age has spoil'd their Trades,
Take Brothels near some Chanc'ry Inn,
And deal in Coffee, Whores and Gin. ”

“ Among His Majesty's Foot-Guards,
To gain, by Poxing and by Whoring,
What they had lost by Plague or Murrain.
Thus Girls of honest Means bereft,
Who've nothing but their Quistrils left,
Must live by Jading or by Theft. ”

“ Their wretched Lives in Hempen Twine.
Thus Rebels, when they lose the Day,
Support the Pow'r they disobey;
But if Success attends their Pride,
They make the Gallows change its Side.
For 'tis the Vict'ry, not the Cause,
That steers the Justice of the Laws,
And in each rash domestick Quarrel,
Disposes both of Hemp and Laurel. ”

“ And bless'd Her Foes against their Will.
So Drunkards, when with Wine o'ercome,
Abuse their Friends that lead 'em home,
And tho' the Way, they're forc'd along,
Be right, they'll swear, in spight, 'tis wrong. ”