A
HUE and CRY
AFTER
A Man-Midwife.
Who has Lately DELIVER'D the
LAND-BANK
OF THEIR
MONEY.
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IF any Good Person, in Country or Town,
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Either Courtier, or Citizen, Sharper, or Clown,
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Gives Tidings or Tale, of a famous Projector,
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Whom Great-Belly'd Ladies have mighty respect-for,
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Shall at the Land-Bank be as Nobly rewarded,
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As by the Trustees it can well be afforded.
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He's a little old Man, very pale of Complexion,
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Into many Deep Things makes a narrow inspection:
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His Head's very Long, and his Hands very Small,
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Fit to fathom a gentle Tuquoque withal:
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In tormenting of which, as the Good Women tell us,
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He strangles more Necks, than the Rope and the Gallows.
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Among his Profession he's fam'd as a Topper,
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By some call'd a Midwife, by others a Groper.
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From his Office in Queen-street he lately has started,
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And left his Society half broken-hearted.
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Thus show'd them a Trick, one would think was beneath-him
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And run with their Stock; marry Devil go with him!
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But yet he was so civil unto the Trustees,
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Tho he's taken the Chest, he has left 'em the Keys.
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Of Iron 'twas made, and secured with Chains,
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Being Lock'd with abundance of Cunning and Pains;
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Which mingles their Sorrow with some little Pleasure,
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To think how 'twill plague him to come at the Treasure.
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By common Report into Holland he's fled;
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If so, the Land-bank is brought finely to Bed:
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For if to the old place of Refuge he's run,
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Adzooks you're all Cozen'd as sure as a Gun.
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And you that are Chous'd, for your Money may mourn;
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For Holland, like Hell, never makes a Retarn.
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known to all Europe, the Dutch, like the Devil,
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Takes damnable care of the Root of all Evil.
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What Money is once carry'd into their Nation,
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Is more hard to regain, than if sunk in the Ocean.
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If the Coin was inclos'd (like the Soil in a Gizzard)
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In an Adamant Coffer, lock'd up by a Wizard,
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They'll show him a way, by some Pow'r Infernal,
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To break up the Shell, and to take out the Kernel.
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A Bank to give Paper, and hoard up our Coin,
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Was nothing at first but a Coz'ning Design:
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And he, like a Man of wise Circumspection,
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Has show'd the true end of a Roguish Proyection.
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Considering how often the Nation is bit
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By Projects, and yet will not see thro' the Cheat,
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'Tis a wonder to me, we should learn no more Wit.
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We've Lott'ries from Venice, and Banks from the Dutch,
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Tho Holland indeed has occasion for such;
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For if they were down, as abundance do wish,
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They must die all like Puppies, or live all like Fish.
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My Brains are so heavy, I vow and protest,
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I must beg you'll accept of that Pun for a Jest.
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For talking of Holland so much, I'm a Dog,
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If my Fancy at last is not slip'd in a Bog.
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But now to the matter, If any discover
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The Man and the Money, and bring 'em both over,
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He shall find the Trustees of the Bank to be Noble,
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And give him what e'er he can get for his Trouble.
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To give you his Character truely Compleat,
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He's Doctor, Projector, Man-Midwife and C-----
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Who has Cunningly manag'd a subtle Device,
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Beyond the poor Parson, or Auberry Price.
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And all that I farther can say of the matter,
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He's gone to the Dutch, and the Devil go a'ter.
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