The revels; or A satyr against temple-ryots

The revels; or A satyr against temple-ryots

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Title page

TO THE BENCHERS.

THE REVELS; OR A SATYR Againſt Temple-Ryots.

FINIS.

§

[Page]

THE REVELS; OR A SATYR AGAINST Temple-Ryots.

Mundus in exitium ruit.

LONNDO, Printed for I. G. 1683.

TO THE BENCHERS.

[Page]

[Page]

Gentlemen,

IT muſt be confeſſed that we are fallen into the Dregs of Time, wherein Atheiſm and Profaneſs not only abound, but ſtrive which ſhould have the preheminence, which ſufficiently appears by the late Tranſactions of ſome about you; however 'tis thought no way impertinent to Apologize for the enſuing Poem, which does not (though it may be thought to) reflect on any of the Grave and ſerious Gentlemen (who are no leſs Eminent in the Abhorrence of ſuch actions, [Page] then in the Law) which at preſent poſſeſs the Honourable Bench, but merely on thoſe hot-ſpurs who think Loyalty conſiſts in being Eminently wicked, that think to regain the loſt part of their Patrimony by ſending the reſt after, and that think the Law to be Honoured by ſuch unlawful actions of its Pretenders; And whether ſuch Proceedings merit not ſuch reproofs, is left to your ſerious Conſideratin by him who is

An Admirer of Your Honourable Society. E. P.

THE REVELS; OR A SATYR Againſt Temple-Ryots.

[Page]

HEav'ns! What an Age is this? what bluſhleſs times?

When we can ſmile and make a ſport of crimes;

When by a Bloody-Flux of Oaths we ſin,

And when begun we ever do begin;

And never end; Is Natures Cours diſſolv'd?

Or is the Baſis of the Earth revolv'd

Into it's Priſtine Chaos? When for Joys,

That ſolid are, we graſp at empty Toys;

[Page] And barter ſenſe for Nonſenſe; Gold, for Droſs,

And make a Loſs-ful Gain by Gainful loſs:

Well did the Poets in their works preſage,

An Iron, to ſucceed the Golden, Age,

Well did they tell us that Aſtrea left

The treacherous Earth; for that is now bereft

Of all things that are Honeſt, Good and Juſt,

Who flew with her from this defiled duſt;

Gon are thoſe Golden Days, I ſay, wherein

Fraud and ſuch Villanies could ne re be ſeen:

When Suppliant pris'ners did not ſhake to ſee

Their Angry Judge; all things ſecure and free;

Poor Clients did not then attend the Gate

Of their ne're-ſatisfied-Advocate:

Theſe days are vaniſh'd and our Modern times,

Have nothing elſe but New-invented Crimes:

Draw neer ye Stoicks, you whoſe Marble Eyes

Can never melt; whoſe graver Souls deſpiſe

A Wrincle, come and burſt your ſelvs to ſee

Th' Abſtract of Folly and Impiety.

A Vanity which they of Old ne're knew,

Which is as ſtrange t' Imagin as 'tis true.

A Vanity which has created more

Adorers, than was e're heard of before.

[Page] Come and ſee how by Cheats they wealth acquire,

(The Grave is ſooner cloy'd than their deſire▪)

Walk but into their Hall and you ſhall ſee

(If I miſtake not) Hells Epitomy.

One that was juſt now drench'd in Dana's ſhower,

Has neither Gold not truſt within his power.

Here ſtands a man that ſpends his Mid-Day Sweat,

And Mid-Night Oyl in ſtudying how to Cheat;

And if it prove not to his wiſh'd deſire,

God damn the Dice I'le throw them in the Fire.

Give me more Dice, if thoſe do not ſuffice

To win, he'l Seal it with his Oaths and Lyes,

Which if deny'd Meet me to morrow Sir,

Then follows, but be ſure he'l never ſtir

From his Inchanted Caſtle, to be made,

A Victim to be ſent to th' Inſernal ſhade.

Go but within and ſee the Guineys fly

And Dice, for theſe run Low and thoſe too High.

A voice from Hell then forthwith comes,, here here,

Ʋſher come hither, Ʋſher now Draw near,

God Damn the Dog for he does not appear.

See how they labour with their Stygian crys,

As if they were reſolv'd to ſtorm the Skys.

[Page] With New-invented-Oaths; and ſpend their Night

In Cheats▪ which they account their ſole delight.

If well accompliſh'd; and for Joy they ſcrew

Themſelvs in Shapes, which Proteus never knew.

Go but into another Room you'l ſay,

Size-Ace is that which carries all away:

And being enter'd, Maſters will you play?

Is the Infernal cry; I want but one

Will then accoſt you; Maſter pray ſit down?

Theſe are the Paſtimes which with ſuch delight

Are graſp'd, which now take up their day and Night.

Theſe are the Joys which are ſo much admir'd,

And are by all (though none but Fools) deſir'd.

Now let us go and take a Turn or two,

And for a while leave this Infernal crew

To their indeared Paſtimes, and go ſee

With much diſdain another Company.

A Company that Fortune would not aid,

Who for their folly have ſeverely paid.

Who made their brags but now, and will to Morrow,

Be forc'd to Beg or Steal, at leaſt to borrow.

Have you not ſeen the Roſe hang down 'its Head,

When the bright Beams of th' Glorious Sun are fled,

Juſt ſo they look as if they were ſtruck Dead.

[Page] Thus having loſt their Coyn and Reaſon too

(And in this ſtrait knowing not what to do)

With their Poor Omnia to the Brokers go,

Others that ne're before perhaps could ſee

A Penny, now to their Old Trade muſt fly

Of Pocket Picking and of Thiefery.

Others to be recruited now muſt go

Unto their Maſters Till which ſtill doth flow.

with Bags of Bullion that muſt ſatisfy

Their craving Wants; which they will re-ſupply.

Thus being fluſh'd with new deſire again,

They come in hopes now for to throw a Main.

But oh! 'tis gone, and that which they did borrow,

Ev'n now, muſt be repaid by th'next days Sorrow.

Thus he is like Act on (who became

To his own Cruel Dogs th' unhappy Game.)

Poorer than Irus now you may him ſee,

And is become th' Abſtract of Miſery.

Thus Game's a civil Gun-powder in peace,

Blowing up Houſes with their whole increaſe.

Now Marble-Stoick now approach in haſte,

Relinquiſh laughter, and now weep as faſt.

See how in Shoals they come whoſe noiſe appalls,

Much worſe than twenty Iriſh Funerals.

[Page] The hideous clamour of great Nilus fall,

If but to them compared, is but ſmall.

See what Gil-Fortune hath prepar'd to be

As a Reward for this Looſe Company

Who made their whole Eſtate a Lottery.

A Laviſh Banquet ſhe doth now prepare

For the dejected Loſers) with much care.

Knowing that Hungry Stomacks do enſue

An Empty Pocket, which has miſs'd but few.

The Table's ſpread, groans with Varieties

Which do the moſt Luxurious Palate pleaſe.

To Crown with full content the Appetite

Nothing is wanting, that creates delight.

The Studied Diſhes which do re-ſupply

Each vacancy, do ſo invite the Eye,

That only with the ſight 'twill ſatisfy.

Bacchus in burniſh'd Gold doth now go round,

And Muſick with a well-digeſted ſound

Doth pierce the willing Air, in ſweet contention,

Raping the willing Ears into Attention.

And ſince their Fortunes they cannot repair

Camelion-like, by this Harmonious Air

They muſt ſubſiſt hereafter, or deſpair.

[Page] Plunged in Pleaſures they conſume their Nights

In Gaming, and their Day in looſe delights,

Reſolv'd t'employ each Minute of their time

In that which has th' appearance of a Crime,

Oh times! Oh Manners! which Antiquity

In all its periods ne're the like could ſee,

Nor will Poſterity believe that e're,

Such laviſh Actions perpetrated were:

This Age reſolves to ſeek out nothing leſs

Than th' very Quinteſſence of Wickedneſs,

Fearing to come behind the Age before

In Villanies, ſhe now inventeth more,

And for applauſe ſhe acts them o're and o're.

Thus Fortune having with contentment fed

Her Needy Slaves, and Phaebus being fled

With his Refulgent Rays far from our ſight,

They are incompaſs'd by the ſable Night,

Which Morpheus ſeeing, in great haſt he came,

And thus accoſts them; "Oh ye Sons of Fame

"Appollo's Fiery Steeds are gone away

"And quite withdrawn, to give a Noon of Day

"Unto th' Antipodes, the ſable Night

"Is now approach'd, and Day hath took its flight.

[Page] "Then let our Vows at Morpheus Shrine be paid,

"And be ye not Eternal Vaſſals made

"To Bacchanalian Revels, but begin

"To make an end; Is this a time to win?

"Adjourn until Aurora ſhall diſplay

"Her Roſie Cheeks; then re-aſſume our Play.

"Bid now farewell unto your ſweet delights:

"Let them end with the Days, let not the Nights

"In them be ſpent; but take your ſoft repoſes;

"And lay your weary Heads on Beds of Roſes:

"See how the Tapers do conſume away

"Unwillingly; as if reſolv'd to ſtay

"Their Exit, till they ſee you all give o're

"Before you loſe your ſmall-remaining ſtore.

"Diſſolve your ſelves, depart, for ſhame retire:

"Theſe reſtleſs actions pleaſing Reſt require.

"The weary Traveller now diſpoſſeſs'd

"Of his great labours, doth deſire reſt,

"Which ſo alleviates his dejected Mind,

"That of his pains a preſent cure doth find.

"By this, the Student is refreſh'd from Pain,

"And comes with greater vigour to't again.

"In ſhort; all Brutiſh Animals are made

"More fit for uſe, when this great Debt is paid,

[Page] "Then diſ-ingage your ſelves, and take your flight:

"Prorogue our pleaſures, and enjoy the night,

"In her ſweet Slumbers, and in them delight.

This ſaid, he in great haſte aſcends the Skies,

And unto the Coeleſtial Manſions flies.

But hark! no ſooner had the God giv'n o're

His Admonitions, but they (as before)

To their affected Paſtimes do retire,

And do no other happineſs deſire.

Thus do they proſecute a Vanity

Which would create a Bluſh i'th' Sun, to ſee

That thoſe wild Hero's now ſhould take delight

Quite from the Wing of all their Fathers flight:

Ah! Albion how miſerably curſt

Art thou, from that bright luſtre which at firſt

Adorn'd thy Land, adorn'd thy Corners round,

Which cannot Now, nor Ever will be found.

But hold! my Muſe affrighted ſtands to ſee

Of Turks and Tartars a grim Company;

All in their proper Habits, that you'l ſwear

They not Effigies be, but Real are.

Here's Sir and Madam ſo well joyn'd together,

That the moſt piercing Eye cannot tell whether▪

[Page] Of them to chuſe, here's Madam — Captain too

Link'd with an Engliſh-Hogen▪Mogen Fro;

Next come of Rural Swains, a ſplendid Train,

Who with their Daphnae's, trip it o're the Plain:

Averſe to all that's Ill, they do appear

As Innocent, as their white Garments are:

Heav'ns! what is this that to my wand'ring Eye

Doth next appear, what is't that I deſcry?

My feeble Pen amazed is to tell:

Is it a Meſſenger new come from Hell?

No ſure; it wears a Gown, and you may ſee

(Oh Horrour!) that it is Divinity:

Divinity! methinks the Hills ſhould turn,

To Vallies ſooner; and the Water burn

Than that Divinity ſhould there be ſeen

Who in ſuch Temples never yet had been:

Oh Impious Age! devoted unto Ill,

Void of all good, and is reſolved ſtill

To perſevere; when wilt thou take thy fill?

Methinks it would have been a crime much leſs

If that he had been cloak'd; the only dreſs

That is a ſcandal unto Holineſs:

A Salamanca-Doctor would have done

Who doth pretend to both and yet hath none;

[Page] Or elſe ſome Quaking Naylor in his Band

Who doth the Holy-Siſter-hood command.

With his light Spirit and his groping Hand:

In fine, the white-Black Moors lead up the Rear,

Who lively Repreſentatives appear.

Theſe, though in different manner, all agree

At once, to grace this Graceleſs Company;

That onely do excel in villany.

O ſacred Powers (if facred Powers there be

That with Aſſiſtance honour Poeſie)

Aſſiſt my trembling and unable Pen

T' Anatomize the Deeds of worſe then men;

Whoſe Shameleſs Actions now might ſhame the Devil

That ſcorn not to be thought the ſum of evil.

Did Nero now ſurvive, no doubt but he,

Would ſtand Intrans'd with wonder, for to ſee

Such Actions perpetrated o're and o're,

Which neither he, nor any ſaw before:

And would repent, deſiring (though in vain)

His long-loſt-Aſhes to aſſume again,

That he might be Comptroller of them all,

Whoſe Joy for Romes deſtruction was but ſmall

To this, or yet his Mothers cruel fall:

[Page] If ever Transmigration could be true

'Tis now, 'tis now, for here at once you view

The Villanies that ever yet had been

Tranſacted, which no Age the like has ſeen.

Is money wanting to proceed? you'l ſee,

Viïs & modis 't will acquired be.

Is all their ſmall remaining Stock but ſpent?

Forthwith (t' acquire more) a Parliament

Convened is, where 'tis Reſolv'd a Lord

Should then be Dubb'd and be by all ador'd.

'Tis done, 'tis done, ſee how his ſlaves like Apes

Do ſcrew their Bodies in a thouſand ſhapes.

Come next and ſee how they advance with hope

In Riches to tranſcend the Mighty Pope

Whoſe Quantum meruit is a Golden Rope.

'Tis ſtrange to think (yet not ſo▪ ſtrange as true)

That among ſo great numbers ſuch a few

Should honeſt prove, for yet we Dayly find,

Knaves are the greateſt part of all Mankind.

And where ſhould Lewd and Idle Perſons come,

But to thoſe places that afford them room.

I've done, but muſt all honeſt Men adviſe,

Not to approach the place of ſo much Vice.

Information about this book

Title statement

The revels; or A satyr against temple-ryots

E. P.

Edition statement

1683

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2007-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A54778

ID [STC]

Wing P20A

ID [STC]

ESTC R203101

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99825212

ID [PROQUEST]

99825212

ID [VID]

29589

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Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A54778)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 29589)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 2093:21)

Source

— The revels; or A satyr against temple-ryots, E. P..

Extent

[4], 12 p.

printed for I.G.,. Lonndo [sic] :: 1683.. ("To the benchers" signed: E.P.) (In verse.) (Reproduction of the original in the Bodleian Library, Oxford.)

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