TO THE PRAISE OF MRS. CELLIER The Popish Midwife:
ON HER IN COMPARABLE BOOK.
MADAM,
THe brightest Glory of your Sex, and Age,
Than Popess Joan more Fair, than Popess Joan more sage,
We hop'd, if Catholicks success had found,
To see your head with Triple-mitre crown'd;
That Head, which bravest Acts can first invent,
Then, if miscarri'd, prove 'em never meant:
You're skill'd, what Natures Fabrick is below.
And all the secret Arts of Gropeing know,
Sexes defect with D-do can supply,
And so escape the fam'd Chair Porphury.
But though success have fail'd your great Deserts,
The world admires your Ladiships Great Parts:
Rome once ador'd Lucina's Deity,
But now Her Midwife-Goddess you shall be,
To help the Popes abortions, and by Merit
Deliver Nephews of the Flesh, or Spirit.
You taught the Judges to interpret Laws,
Shewd Sergeant Maynard how to plead a Cause,
You turn'd, and wound, and Rogu'd 'em at your will,
'Twas Trial not of Life and Death, but Skill.
What though you had no Cash to bribe the
She maliciously suggests (though against her own Interest) the Jury corrupt, when all knew twas neither her own Innocence, nor their disintegrity, but meer defect of Evidence brought her off this time.
Jury?They'd fell their Consciences on Trust: SecuriTy's
not expected now for such small ware;
Oaths are as cheap as Pins at Bartholmew-Fair.
Besides, you'l give their Babes an easie Birth,
Or, if themselves are costive, help it forth:
For one good turn we know requires another,
As Right hand scratches Left its yonger Brother.
Your Witnesses would swear against the King,
And' gainst the Law; they'd swear like any thing.
Sweet Innocence! what Powerful charms it has
It works more Miracles, than Cross, or Mass,
As easily turns all to Catholick
As Apes shape Whelps with Beautifying Lick;
It makes men swear the Compass Ten times or'e,
Then makes e'm swear, they never swore before:
This is the force of Innocence; and ne're yet
Did any miss't, that sin'd on Tick of Merit.
Heretical Apostate Dangerfield!
Worst of Mankind! whom hast thou thus beguil'd!
Thou wert a hopeful, serviceable man,
But now art turn'd White Devil of Japan.
Pray tell me, where's thy Conscience? or why
Must Heretic Truth discover Sacred Lye?
Shew your Indulgence, Sacrilegious slave!
May you speak Truth, unless the Pope gives leave?
You credited? Incorrigible Sot!
Prove you were Loyal first, and knew no Plot.
Thus your Book, Madam, has convinc'd the Nation,
And is one clear, entire Demonstration:
It shews the Meal-Tub-Plot's an errant cheat l
For Tub is made of Wood, and meal of Wheat.
The cause wants no such Whifflers as T. G. is,
You must defend it, not such clods as He is;
For no man yet could e're withstand the Dint,
And cogency of Female Argument.
Diva Obstretrix-O! hear the prayers
Of all the Jesuits and all the Friers!
Some Saints we've known forget us when they 're gone
To thee on Earth we make our early moan.
Then pity us: exert thy Power
To save us in this dangerous Hour.
Thou hast to Life brought many men,
Ah! Bring the Plot to Life agen.
LONDON, Printed for Walter Davis in Amen-Corner, MDCLXXX.