I Smell a Rat.
To the tune of, Upon a Summer tide,
OR, The Seminary Priest.
|
I Traveld farre to finde
|
where honesty abides,
|
And found in England more
|
then all the world besides;
|
But where true vertue growes,
|
vice quickly ruines that:
|
A poore man must not speak,
|
although he Smell a Rat.
|
When Justice hath her sight,
|
shee's beautifull in show:
|
But when she Masks her face,
|
how vild she soone doth grow;
|
I doe perceive the cause,
|
but dare not speake of that:
|
Ile not offend the Lawes,
|
but yet I Smell a Rat.
|
When I see welthy men,
|
by worldy causes rise:
|
I count them happy here,
|
and truely worldly wise;
|
But Folly oft makes leane,
|
what Wit hath long kept fat:
|
Who knowes how rich men fall?
|
in troth I Smell a Rat.
|
Some gathers in their rents,
|
and hordes the coine with care:
|
Stretching their credits great,
|
for money or for ware:
|
When such great men do breake,
|
what is the cause of that?
|
In troth I dare not speake,
|
and yet I Smell a Rat.
|
To see a Courtier kinde,
|
is common every hower,
|
To Widdow, Wife, or Maide,
|
or any in his power:
|
The Husband's welcome to,
|
but whats the cause of that?
|
I doe not justly know,
|
but yet I Smell a Rat.
|
When luker marries wealth,
|
how joyfull are the twaine,
|
On both sides wealths increase
|
comes in with ill got gaine:
|
This wealth commands their minds,
|
they live like Dog and Cat;
|
What should the occasion be?
|
in faith I Smell a Rat.
|
When rates of all things rise,
|
within a plentious yeare:
|
What should the occasion be,
|
that every thing's so deare;
|
Some censure rich mens faults,
|
and some say this and that:
|
Let al say what they will,
|
for faith I Smell a Rat.
|
When Age doth marry Youth,
|
how lovingly they live:
|
The want of youthfull bloud,
|
this tender Wife doth grieve:
|
The old man jealous growes,
|
occasion oft bids that:
|
When wealth and beauty meete,
|
in faith I Smell a Rat.
|
|
|
|
|
The second Part, To the same Tune.
|
WHerefore doth women paint
|
or youngmen prume their haire?
|
It may be tis to make,
|
this earthly carkase faire;
|
Yet there are causes great,
|
are ten times worse then that:
|
Tis beauty tempes the eye,
|
in faith I Smell a Rat.
|
When Strumpets strive by Art,
|
and fond inticing straines,
|
To bring poore youth to spend
|
both substance, strength, & vaines:
|
What sicknes followes lust?
|
what poverty brings that?
|
I have no cause to know,
|
but yet I Smell a Rat.
|
When guls and gooscaps find,
|
the vildness of expence:
|
How penitent their minde,
|
will grow for that offence:
|
But folly to such men,
|
doth shew them what is what:
|
I speake not all I know,
|
but still I Smell a Rat.
|
To see a Whore fall sicke,
|
why tis a common thing:
|
A Hakney soone will tire,
|
doth too much burthen bring:
|
Beside, an inward griefe
|
may be the cause of that,
|
Let Surgions lend releefe:
|
for faith I Smell a Rat.
|
When Seigneur Roman T,
|
did goe upright and straight:
|
He crumples in the hames,
|
so great's his bodies waight:
|
Nay stradles twice as wide,
|
what is the cause of that?
|
Theres something barres his stride
|
in troth I Smell a Rat.
|
Why growes your Bawds so big,
|
when Panders prove so leane:
|
When they were young they sweld
|
and nere will fall againe:
|
The Panders swift on foote,
|
and so keepes downe his fat,
|
By bringing some unto't:
|
in troth I Smell a Rat.
|
When Officers let slip
|
to punish such as these:
|
Pray where doth Justice sit,
|
or railes she when she please:
|
It may be she is brib'd,
|
and so kept blind by that:
|
Else none of these could thrive,
|
in troth I Smell a Rat.
|
When sinne strives to surcease,
|
and folly flies away:
|
Where love and lasting peace,
|
will make a glorious day:
|
When England harboures none,
|
that beares the name of Whore,
|
The Rat will run away,
|
and I shall Smell no more.
|
|
|
|
|