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Good Deeds ill Requited:
OR,
AN ANSWER
TO
INNOCENCE UNVEILD.
BEING
A POEM
In Vindication of Dr. Oates and Mr. Bedloe.
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WIse Solomon has said, Tis sometimes fit
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To answer one, that has nor Sense, nor Wit,
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Lest the vain Fop grow wise, ins own Conceit.
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A Poem! Bless us, Muses! railing Rhimes,
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Where Discord only, and no Musick chimes:
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Where Malice, and no Wit or Sence is shown,
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And Puddle-dirt at worthy men is thrown.
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That mortal man in paltry Rhime should prate,
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Like a she-Orator of Billingsgate;
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Who, if she ever did at Crambo play,
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Might rail in Rhime, and better things would say.
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Poor quibling Fool did lack some Oaten drink,
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To help inspire his wooden Wit, I think,
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Who his fine Poem usherd (out upont!)
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With a most silly Quibble in the Front.
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Those very Men his Worship termeth Fools
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Handle edge, better than he rhiming, tools:
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And tho these men he Saviours calls in scorn,
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And doth with Coxcombs, Fools, and Knaves, adorn
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His railing Verse; they shall in Story dwell
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In Heavnly Fame, like Angels that neer fell,
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Whilst such as he lie in Oblivions Hell.
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What Stuff hes made of, all the world may see;
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But Jesuits Heart wont with Fools Brain agree.
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A We
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[2]
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We can his Spleen however well detect;
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Their Evidence hed make of no effect.
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At that alone his squinting Verses look,
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A safer way indeed than Reading took:
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But twill not do; his Rhymes do Reason lack,
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For all the Law, of which you so much crack;
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The Foild may rise, and lay some on their back.
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Touch the galld back of any furious Beast,
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Hell bite and kick, or wince and fling at least;
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And he that meddles, when the Beast does feel,
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Had need be guarded well, gainst iron heel.
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I am no Surgeon, and shant rake in Sore;
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The World have Eyes, and I shall say no more.
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If some say Black is White, I am content,
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Or call a running Sore an Ornament.
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The Romans did not cackling Geese despise,
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Who kept their Capitol from a Surprise:
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But we fling Dirt at men, like unwise Sots,
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Who have the Nation savd from Jesuits Plots.
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Since Jesuits cant the Nation now crepan,
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Theyll do it all the Mischief that they can,
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And with foul Mouths, worse Pens, and lying Notes,
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Rail with full Cry, at Bedloe, and at Oates.
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Who will hereafter Traytors Plots make known,
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If no Encouragement to these are shown?
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When scurrilous Pamphleteers shall dayly try
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To make their Evidence to seem a Lye;
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To make them Juglers, wicked, perjurd Knaves,
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Inventors of strange Plots, the worst of Slaves;
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Men who of right by us should honourd be,
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Their Names made great to all Posteritie;
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And for Encouragement, and greater Grace,
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Their Statues set up in some publick place.
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Whateer that scribling Poetaster writes,
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Those very Commons which his Worship slights,
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May in good time make Truth and Justice known;
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And who the Knaves are then, will best be shown.
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Then Oates and Bedloes Story will be told,
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And twill appear they have not been too bold,
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But that both Truth and Justice once was sold.
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