THE REVELS; OR A SATYR AGAINST Temple-Ryots.
Mundus in exitium ruit.
LONNDO, Printed for I. G. 1683.
TO THE BENCHERS.
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.
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 2] 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 3] 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 4] 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.
(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 6] 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.
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 8] "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 9] "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 10] 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 11] 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 12] 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.
FINIS.