(1)
A
HYMN
TO THE
PILLORY.
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HAIL Hi'roglyphick State Machin,
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Contriv'd to Punish Fancy in:
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Men that are Men, in thee can feel no Pain,
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And all thy Insignificants Disdain.
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Contempt, that false New Word for shame,
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Is without Crime an empty Name.
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A Shadow to amuse Mankind,
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But never frights the Wise or Well-fix'd Mind:
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[?], despise Humane Scorn,
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And Scandals Innocence adorn.
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Exalted on thy Stool of State,
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What Prospect do I see of Sov'reign Fate;
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How th' Inscrutables of Providence,
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Differ from our contracted Sence;
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Here by the Errors of the Town,
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The Fools look out and Knaves look on.
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Persons or Crimes find here the same respect,
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And Vice does Vertue oft Correct,
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The undistinguish'd Fury of the Street,
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Which Mob and Malice Mankind Greet:
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No Byass can the Rabble draw,
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But Dirt throws Dirt without respect to Merit, or to Law.
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Sometimes the Air of Scannal to maintain,
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Villains look from thy Lofty Loops in Vain:
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But who can judge of Crimes by Punishment,
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Where Parties Rule, and L------s Subservient.
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Justice with Change of Int'rest Learns to bow,
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And what was Merit once, is Murther now:
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Actions receive their Tincture from the Times,
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And as they change are Vertues made or Crimes.
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Thou art the State-Trap of the Law,
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But neither can keep Knaves nor Honest Men in Awe:
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These are too harden'd in Offence,
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And those upheld by Innocence.
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How have thy opening Vacancys receiv'd,
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In every Age the Criminals of State?
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And how has Mankind been deceiv'd,
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When they distinguish Crimes by Fate?
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Tell us Great Engine how to understand.
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Or reconcile the Justice of the Land;
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How Bastwick, Pryn, Hunt, Hollingsby and Pye,
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Men of unspotted Honesty;
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Men that had Learning, Wit and Sence,
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And more than most Men have had since,
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Could equal Title to thee claim,
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With Oats and Fuller, Men of later Fame:
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Even the Learned Selden saw,
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A Prospect of the[m] thro' the Law:
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He had thy Lofty Pinnacles in view,
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But so much Honour never was thy due:
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Had the Great Selden Triumph'd on thy Stage,
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Selden the Honour of his Age;
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No Man wou'd ever shun thee more,
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Or grudge to stand where Selden stood before.
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Thou art no Shame to Truth and Honesty,
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Nor is the Character of such defac'd by thee,
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Who suffer by Oppressive Injury.
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Shame, like the Exhalations of the Sun,
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Falls back where first the motion was begun:
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And they who for no Crime shall on thy Brows appear
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Bear less Reproach than they who plac'd 'em there
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But if Contempt is on thy Face entail'd,
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Disgrace itself shall be asham'd;
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Scandal shall blush that it has not prevail'd,
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To blast the Man it has defam'd.
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Let all that Merit equal Pnishment,
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Stand there with him, and we are all Content.
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There would the Fam'd S---------ll stand,
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With Trumpet of Sedition in his Hand,
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Sounding the first Crusado in the Land.
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He from a Church of England Pulpit first,
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All his Dissenting Brethren Curst;
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Doom'd then to Satan for a Prey,
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And first found out The Shortest Way;
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With him the Wise Vice-Chancellor o' th' Press,
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Who, tho' our Printers Licenses defy,
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Willing to show his forwardness,
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Bless'd it with his Authority;
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He gave the Churche's Sanction to the Work,
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As Popes bless Colours for Troops which fight the Turk.
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Doctors in scandal these are grown,
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For Red-hot Zeal and Furious Learning known:
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Professors in Reproach and highly fit,
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For Junos Academy, Billingsgate.
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Thou like a True-born English Tool,
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Hast from their Composition stole,
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And now art like to smart for being a Fool:
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And as of English Men, 'twas always ment,
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They'r better to Improve than to Invent;
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Upon their Model thou hast made,
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A Monster makes the World afraid.
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With them let all the States-men stand,
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Who Guide us with unsteady Hand:
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Who Armies, Fleet, and Men betray;
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And Ruin all the Shortest Way.
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Let all those Soulders stand in sight,
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Who're willing to be paid and not to fight.
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Agents, and Collonels, who false Musters bring,
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To Cheat your Country first, and then your King:
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Bring all your Coward Captains of the Fleet;
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Lord! What a Croud will there be when they meet?
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They who let Ponti 'scape to Brest,
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With all the Gods of Carthagena Blest.
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Those who betray'd our Turky Fleet;
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Or Injur'd Talmash Sold at Camaret.
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Who miss'd the Squadron from Thouloon,
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And always came to late or else to soon;
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All these are Heroes whose g[r]eat F[a]ctions Claim,
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Immortal Honour to their Dying Fame;
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And ought not to have been Denyed,
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On thy great Counterscarp, to have their Valour try'd.
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Why have not these upon thy swelling Stage,
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Tasted the keener Justice of the Age;
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If 'tis because their Crimes are to remote,
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Whom leaden-footed Justice has forgot?
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Let's view the modern Scenes of Fame,
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If Men and Management are not the same;
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When Fleets go out with Money, and with Men,
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Just time enough to venture home again?
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Navies prepar'd to guard th' insult[e]d Coast,
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And Convoys settl'd when Our Ships are lost.
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Some Heroes lately come from Sea,
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If they were paid their Due, should stand with thee;
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Papers too should their Deeds relate,
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To prove the Justice of their Fate:
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Their Deeds of War at Port Saint Marys done,
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And see the Trophy's by them, which they won;
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Let Or---------ds Declaration there appear,
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He'd certainly be pleas'd to see 'em there.
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Let some good Limner represent,
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the ravish'd Nuns, the plunder'd Town,
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The English Honour how mispent;
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The shameful coming back, and little done.
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The Vigo Men should next appear,
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To Triumph on thy Theater;
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They, who on board the Great Galloons had been,
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Who rob'd the Spaniards first, and then the Queen
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Set up their praises to their Valour due,
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How Eighty Sail, had beaten Twenty two.
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Two Troopers so, and one Dragoon,
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Conquerid a Spanish Boy, a Pampalone-
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Yet let them Or----d's Conduct own,
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Who beat them first on Shore, or little had been done
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What unknown spoils from thence are come,
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How much was brought away, How little home.
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If all the Theives should on thy Scaffold stand
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Who rob'd their Masters in Command:
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The Multitude would soon out do,
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The City Crouds of Lord Mayors show,
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Upon thy Penitential stools,
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Some People should be plac'd for Fools:
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As some for Instance who while they look on;
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See others plunder all, and they got none.
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Next the Lieutenant General,
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To get the Devill, lost the De'll and all;
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And he some little badge should bear,
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Who ought in justice to have have hang'd 'em there:
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This had his Honour more maintain'd,
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That all the Spoils at Vigo gain'd.
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Then Clap thy wooden Wings for joy,
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And greet the Men of Great Employ;
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The Authors of the Nations distontent,
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And Scandal of a Christian Government.
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Jobbers, and Brokers of the City Stocks,
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With forty Thousand Tallies at their backs;
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Who make our Banks and Companyes obey
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Or sink 'em all the shortest way.
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Th' Intrinsink Value of our Stocks,
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Is stated in our Caculating Books;
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Th' Imaginary Prizes rise and fall,
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As they Command who toss the Ball;
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Let 'em upon thy lofty Turrets stand,
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With Bear-skins on the back, Debentures in the hand,
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And write in Capital upon the Post,
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That here they should remain,
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Till this AEnigma they explain,
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How stocks should Fall, when Sales sermount the Cost
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And rise again when Ships are lost.
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Great Monster of the Law, Exalt thy Head;
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Appear no more in Masquerade,
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In Homely Phrase Express thy Discontent,
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And move it in th' Approaching Parliament:
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Tell 'em how Papers were instead of Coin,
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With Int'rest eight per Cent. and Discount Nine.
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Of Irish Transport Debt unpaid,
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Bills false Endors'd, and long Accounts unmade.
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And tell them all the Nation hopes to see,
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They'll send the Guilty down to thee;
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Rather then those who write their History.
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Then bring those Justices upon thy Bench,
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Who vilely break the Laws they should defend;
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And upon Equity Intrench,
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By Punishing the Crimes they will not Mend:
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Let every vitious Majestrate,
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Upon thy sumptuous Chariot of the State;
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The[r]e let 'em all in Triumph ride,
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Their Purple and their Scarlet laid aside.
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Let no such Bride-well Justices Protect,
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As first debauch the Whores which they Correct:
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Such who with Oaths and Drunk'ness sit,
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And Punish far less Crimes than they Commit:
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These certainly deserve to stand,
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With Trophies of Authority in Each Hand.
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Upon thy Pulpit, see the Drunken Preist,
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Who turns the Gospel to a daily Jest;
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Let the Fraternity Degrade him there,
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Least they like him appear:
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There let him, his Memento Mori Preach,
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And by Example, not by Doctrine, Teach.
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Next bring the Lewder Clergy there,
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Who Preach those Sins down, which they can't forbear;
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Those Sons of God who every day Go in,
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Both to the Daughters and the Wives of Men;
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There Let 'em stand to be the Nation Jest,
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And save the Reputation of the rest.
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A--- --- ---ll who for the Gospel left the Law,
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And deep within the Cleft of Darkness saw;
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Let him be an Example made,
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Who durst the Parsons Province so Invade;
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To his new Ecclesiastick Rules,
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We owe the knowledge that we are all Fools;
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Old Charon shall no more dark Souls convey,
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A---------ll has found the shortest way;
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Vain is your fun[? P]omp and Bells,
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Your Gravestones, Monuments and Knells,
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Vain are the Trophies of the Grave,
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A---------ll shall all tha[t] Foppery save;
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And to the Clergy's great Reproach,
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Shall change the Hearse into a Fiery Coach;
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What Man the Learned Riddle can receive,
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Which none can Answer, and yet none Believe,
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Let him Recorded, on the List remain,
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Till he shall Heav'n by his own Rules obtain.
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If a Poor Author has Embrac'd thy Wood,
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Only because he has not understood,
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They Punish Mankind but by halves,
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Till they stand there,
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Who 'gainst their own Principles appear;
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And cannot understand themselves.
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Those Nimshites, who with furious Zeal drive on,
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And build up Rome to pull down Babylon,
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The real Author of the shortest way,
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Who for Destruction, not Conversion pray,
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There let those Sons of Strife remain,
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Till this Church Riddle they Explain,
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How a Dissenters they can raise a Storm,
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But would not have them ail Conform,
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For there their certain Ruin would come in,
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And Moderation, which they hate, begin.
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Next bring some Lawyers to thy Barr,
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By Inuendo they might all stand there,
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There let them Expiate that Guilt,
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And Pay for all that Blood their Tongues ha' spilt,
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These are the Mountebanks of State,
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Who by the slight of Tongues can Crimes create,
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And dress up Trifles in the Robes of Fate.
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The Mastives of a Government,
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To worry and run down the Innocen,
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There Sat a Man of Mighty Fame,
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Whose Actions speak him plainer than his Name,
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In vain he struggl'd, he harangu'd in vain,
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To bring in Whipping Sentences again.
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And to debauch a Milder Government,
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With Abdicated kinds of Punishment.
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No wonder he should Law despise,
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Who Jesus Christ himself denies,
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His Actions only now direct.
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That we when he is made a Judge, expect.
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Let L---------ll next to his Disgrace,
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With Whitneys Horses staring in his Face,
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There let his Cup of Pennance be kept full,
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Till he's less Noisy, Insolent and Dull.
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When all these Heroes have past once thy Srage,
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And thou hast been the Satyr of the Age,
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Wait then a while for all those Sons of Fame,
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Whom present Pow'r has made too great to name.
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Fenc'd from thy hands, they keep our Verse in Awe,
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Too great for Satyr, and too great for Law.
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As they their Commands lay down,
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They all shall pay their Homage to thy Cloudy Throne.
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And till within thy reach they be,
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Exalt thy in Effig[i]e.
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The Martyr of the by-past Reign,
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For whom new Oaths have been prepar'd in vain,
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She------k's Disciple first by him trepan'd,
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He for a K------ and they for F------s should stand,
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Tho' some affirm he ought to be excus'd,
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Since to this Day he had refus'd;
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And this was all the Frailty of his Life,
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He Damn'd his Conscience, to oblige his Wife,
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But spare that Priest, whose tottering Conscience knew
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That if he took but one, he'd Perjure two;
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[?]untly resolv'd he wou'd not break 'em both,
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And swore by G------d he'd never take the Oath;
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Hang him, he can't be fit for thee,
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For his unusual Honesty.
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Thou Speaking Trumpet of Mens Fame,
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Enter into every Court thy Claim;
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Demand 'em all, for they are all thy own,
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Who Swear to Three Kings, but are true to none.
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Turn-Coats of all sides are thy due,
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And he who once is false, is never true;
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To Day can Swear, to Morrow can Abjure,
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For Treachery's a Crime no Man can Cure.
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Such without scruple, for the time to come,
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May Swear to all the Kings in Christendom,
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But he's a Mad Man will rely
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Upon their lost Fidelity.
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They that in vast Employments rob the State,
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See them in thy Embraces meet their Fate,
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Let not the Millions they by Fraud obtain,
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Protect 'em from the Scandal, or the Pain.
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They who from Mean Beginning grow
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To vast Estates, but God knows how,
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Who carry untold Sums away,
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From little Places, with but little Pay,
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Who Costly Palaces Erect,
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The Thieves that bullt them to Protect,
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The Gardens, Grotto's, Fountains, Walks, and Groves
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Where Vice Triumphs in Pride, and Lawless Loves.
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Where mighty Luxury and Drunk'ness Reign'd,
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Profusely spend what they Prophanely Gain'd.
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Tell 'em there's Mene Tekels on the Wall,
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Tell 'em the Nations Money paid for all.
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Advance by double-Front and show,
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And let us both the Crimes and Persons know.
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Place them aloft upon thy Throne,
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Who slight the Nation's Business for their own,
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Neglect their Posts, in spight of Double Pay,
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And run us all in Debt the Shortest Way.
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Great Pageant Change thy Dirty Scene,
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For on thy Steps some Ladies may be seen,
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When Beauty stoops upon thy Stage to show
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She laughs at all the humble Fools below.
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Set Sapho there, whose Husband paid Clothes.
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Two Hundred Pound a Week in in Furbulo's,
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There in her Silks and Scarlets let her shine,
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She's Beauttous all without, all Whore within.
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Next let Gay URIANA Ride,
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Her Coach and Six attending by her side.
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Long has she waited, but in vain,
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The City Homage to obtain.
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The Sumptuous Harlot long'd t' Insult the Chair,
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And Triumph'd o'er our City Beauties there.
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Here let her Haughty Thoughts be Gratify'd,
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In Triumph let her Ride,
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Let DIADORA next appear,
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And all that want to know her, see her there.
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What tho' she's not a True Born English Wh------re
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French Harlots have been here before,
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Let not the Pomp nor Grandeur of her State
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Prevent the Justice of her Fate,
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But let her an Example now be made
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To Foreign Wh------s who spoil the English Trade.
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Claim 'em, thou Herald of Reproach,
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Who with uncommon Lewdness will Debauch,
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Let C------ upon thy Borders spend his Life,
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Till he Recants the Bargain with his Wife,
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And till this Riddle both Explain,
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How neither can themselves Contain,
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How Nature can on both sides run so high,
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As neither side can neither side supply,
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And so in Charity agree,
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He keeps two Brace of Whores, two Stallions she.
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What need of Satyr to Reform the Town?
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Or Laws to keep our Vices down?
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Let 'em to Thee due Homage pay,
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This will Reform us all the Shortest Way.
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Set 'em to Thee bring all the Knaves and Fools,
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Vertue will guide the rest by Rules,
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They'll need no Treacherous Friends, no breach of Faith,
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No Hir'd Evidence with their In[?]cting Breath.
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No Servants Masters to Betray,
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Or Knight o' th' Post, who Swear for Pay,
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No injur'd Author'l on thy Steps appear,
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Nor such as wou'd be Rogues, but such as are.
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The first Intent of Laws
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Was to Correct th' Effect, and check the Cause,
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And all the Ends of Punishment,
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Were only Future Mischiefs to prevent.
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But Justice is Inverted when
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Those Engines of the Law,
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Instead of pinching Vicious Men,
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Keep Honest ones in awe,
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Thy Business is, as all Men know,
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To Punish Villains, not to make Men so.
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Whenever then thou art prepar'd.
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To prompt that Vice thou should'st Reward,
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And by the Terrors of thy Grisly Face,
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Make Men turn Rogues to shun Disgrace,
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The End of thy Creation is destroy'd,
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Justice expires of Course, and Law's made void.
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What are thy Yerrors? that for fear of thee,
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Mankind should dare to sink their Honesty?
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He's Bold to Impudence, that dare turn Knave,
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The Scandal of thy Company to save.
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He that will Crimes he never knew confess,
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Does more than if he knew those Crimes transgress,
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And he that fears thee more than to be base,
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May want a Heart, but does not want a Face.
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Thou like the Devil dost [?]
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Blacker than [?]ally thou a[?]
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A wild Chymerick Notion of Reproach,
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Too little for a Crime, for none too much,
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Let none th' Indignity resent,
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For Crime is all the shame of Punishment.
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Thou Bug-bear of the Law stand up and speak,
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Thy long Misconstru'd Silence break,
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Tell us who 'tis upon thy Ridge stands there,
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So full of Fault, and yet so void of Fear,
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And from the Paper in his Hat,
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Let all Mankind be told for what.
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Tell them it was because he was too bold,
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And told those Truths, which should not ha' been tol[d]
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Extoll the Justice of the Land,
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Who Punish what they will not understand.
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Tell them he stands Exalted there,
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For speaking what we wou'd not hear,
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And yet he might ha' been secure,
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Had he said less, or wou'd he ha' said more.
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Tell them that this is his Reward,
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And worse for him is yet prepar'd,
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Because his Foolish Vertue was so Nice
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As not to sell his Friends, according to his Friends Ad.
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And thus he's an Example made,
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To make Men of their Honesty affraid,
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That for the time to come they may,
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More willingly their Friends betray,
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Tell 'em the Men that plac'd him here,
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Are Friends unto the Times,
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But at a loss to find his Guilt.
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They can't commit his Crimes.
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