THE CABAL.
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NOw the Reformer of the Court and Stage,
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The common Beadle of this wilful Age,
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Has with impartial hand whipt Sov'raign Sin,
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[In me it] is bu[t] manners to begin.
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[To] correct Vice keen Satyr may prevail,
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[Beyond] the Law, when preaching Block-heads fail;
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[For L]aw and Satyr from one Fountain flow,
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[Were] not men vicious there would be no Law:
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[And to] cry up this saucy Cant a Rule
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[For la]wful Satyr, proves a Wit a Fool;
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[To ra]il at State, and Monarchs ill intreat,
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[They] cry, 'tis good, because the Subject's great;
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[As] Man was only plac'd in Paradise,
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[To ni]bble on the Fruit for which he dies.
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[Can] Owls and Woodcocks with the Eagle play,
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[And] not in danger to become a prey?
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[Wh]at is't to lash a King, and Council-Table,
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[Wh]en I myself am kick'd by the Town-rabble?
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[Nor] do I covet, matters for my Rhimes,
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[The] greatest Persons; but the greatest Crimes.
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[Wha]t is't to me who keeps a Miss, who's Wed,
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[Or w]ho got costly Carwells Maidenhead?
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[Who] got the better on't, the Peer or Knight?
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[What] Lord was drunk, or Lady sw--- last night?
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[T]hese are the crying Crimes; yet one may do
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[All th]ese, and be an honest Subject too:
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[But] to supplant the Government, and cry
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[Allegianc]e down, and rail at Monarchy;
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[To m]ake Cabals, and by a bold Petition
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[Imbro]il the Nation in a new Sedition;
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[To so]wse Rebellion, lay up Plots in pickle,
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[And] make each Tavern-bar a Conventicle:
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[This] would become a Muse's excellence,
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[To whi]p the Club into Allegiance.
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[W]ho would not be affected as Sir Car,
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[As pro]ud as Mulgrave, dull as de la Ware;
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[As p]oor as Fish, who lost himself and Prince
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[In one] Debauch, and ne're was sober since:
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[Rath]er than that insatiate Beast of prey
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[Wo]rries the Flock to make himself away?
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[Tho]se harmless men find a more safe aboad,
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[Who] quit unlawful paths to keep the Road.
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['Tis] strange, that Humane wisdom ever shou'd
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[Err most, under] pretence of doing good[:]
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[And those wise] men that would prescribe us Rules
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[For Governme]nt, prove either K[n]aves or Fools.
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[Witness the] Catiline that left [W]hitehall
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[To be] made President of the Cabal:
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[So he's] in play, (provided the[re's no blow]s)
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[It matte]rs not, the New, or the [Old] Caufe:
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[Has thr]ough all points of Government run his rounds,
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[As Gore] the Compass did, with Bloud and Hounds:
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[But s]ooner may you fix the Northern wind,
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[Than] hope this Weathercock will be confin'd.
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[Natu]re made him a perverse wight, whose Nose
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[Extra]cts the Essence of his Gouty Toes;
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[Doubl]e with Head to Tail he crawls apart:
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[His Body']s th' Emblem of his double Heart.
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[In the Co]urt-Sun he wriggles like a Snail;
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[Touch but] his Horns, he shrinks into his Shell.
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[Roul'd lik]e a Hedg-hog up, he shews his Snout,
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[And at] the Council-Table makes a rout,
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['Gainst] Charles and the Succession domineers;
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[If ought] oppose him, he has Forks and Spears:
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[Like a vile] Scullar, he abjures the Realm,
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[And sinks] the Bark, 'cause he's not chief at Helm;
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[Then cries,] All hands to pump a Leakish Keel,
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[And stops it u]p with Julian's Conger-eel,
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[That whe]n a Ball pierc'd the Broad-side, ev'n then
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[Clapt in] the hole, and sav'd Sir Edwards men.
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[The way']s to keep him there; if he get through
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[Secure h]imself, he drowns the Ship and Crew.
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If to the Ocean back again he's bent,
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The Rabble, he's in his own Element.
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There let him Plot, and ne're behold the Sun,
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Till he has through all Seas of Folly run,
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Under pretext of Wit to be undone.
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Like the late Duke, who, from a glorious Bully,
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Retir'd from Court, to be the City's Cully;
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The City's Minion; now, their scorn and sport,
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There more despis'd, than once ador'd at Court:
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Who did his Fall so wittily contrive,
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In quaint disguise to Riot, Rant, and Sw---;
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And when h' has lost himself in Infamy,
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Revile the State, and rail at Monarchy;
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The only means true Glory to pursue,
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And must be the best way, because 'tis new.
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Would any Hexson from the Court retreat
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To th' Stall, under disguise of being Great,
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And only for to merit Vulgar praise;
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Rather than not be popular, be base?
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So once an Emperor, as Stories say,
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Exchang'd his Scepter for a Ferula,
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And, only proud to prove himself a Fool,
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Did quit the Throne, to keep a petty School;
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Yet this was great, while only for the noise
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Of Sov'raign power, he Lords it o'er the Boys:
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Look to it, York; the Nation first shall bleed,
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E're the two Kings of Brainford shall succeed.
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Put him aside, --- as he has done, I'll lay;
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For should I more upon this Subject say,
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It were, like his Estate, but thrown away.
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Shall Perkin 'scape, whose early offering
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Invok'd the Club, e're he atton'd the King?
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What though he's Banish'd? yet the Rump may plead
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Old Magna Charta, though the House be fled.
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And though you will not make him King; yet he
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May justly claim a Subject's liberty:
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But this secures him from our sharpest shot,
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He was not Oates enough to make a Plot;
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And Satyr upon him is ev'n almost,
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As well as preaching unto Armstrong, lost.
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Hallif--- for Empire has as great an Itch,
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As ever Dog had for his salt swoln Bitch;
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His plumes impt with Ambition, up he flies,
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And to be something melts ev'n in the Skies:
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While th' humble wretch at home lies prostrate down
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To all the barking Beagles of the Town.
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Young Devon too does in the Club intrude,
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To be applauded by the Multitude:
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With zeal to King and Country he abounds;
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Keep with the Hare, and open with the Hounds:
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Now of the Court, now of the City free;
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Mistakes Prerogative for Liberty.
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How well a Regiment would him become,
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If the loud Commons did but beat the Drum?
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My Masters, Vote it, Sirs; a Prohibition:
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I can't in Conscience brook the new Commissions:
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To levy Forces, and assign Commanders,
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Is Treason in the King 'gainst France or Flanders;
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But if the House command me, though I starve,
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I'll quit Wine, Whores, Allegiance, to serve.
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Gray better far might slight his Soveraign's bounty,
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He had a Regiment within his County,
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And power enough besides to back his Cause,
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Would Rowley venture but a broken Nose.
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Appease this mouthing Cerberus with a Bone,
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Honour's a dainty Crust to pick upon:
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While his dear Doxy makes a shift to rub
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The business out with Monmouth; he the Club:
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And Rowlstone leads the Van, while they combine,
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And humbly beg their Soveraign to resign.
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How Faction, and the quenchless thirst of Rule,
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Hurries to ruine the Ambitious Fool;
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Whose busie Soul, puft up with popular sway,
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Will scarce be ever humbled to obey!
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The Earl whose Spouse had such a spacious Poop,
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As swallow'd up Ned Brab'zon, and his Troop,
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Who was lately Lord Lieutenant of the Realm,
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Seem'd a good Pilot while he sate at Helm;
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But when he was depos'd, he overthrew
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His Master's Cause, and sided with the Crew.
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Now Bedford found he had the worst o' th' lay,
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Having more wit or honesty than they,
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Sneak'd off, and left the Club his Game to play;
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When he had also led 'em to the Perch,
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Like Buckingham, he left 'em in the lurch,
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At such a juncture of a time, and odly,
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As Peyton for his Highness left the Godly;
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Or Escrick Howard, to become a bawler,
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Withdrew from Court to cry up busie Waller.
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These are the men that all the Bustle make,
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And Empire check meerly for Empire's sake:
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They lay their Stamp on the Revolting Darling,
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And in that Club make Treason pass for Sterling.
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There are some other Beagles of the Pack,
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That make a noise the Royal Chase to back:
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As when a Mastiff opens in the dark,
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The little Dogs will shake their tails and bark;
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And though the foremost Hound but start the Hare,
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The rest will mouth it as they claim'd a share,
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Who follow by the scent, and scarce have sense
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To judge 'twixt Treason and Allegience.
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As Fops meet in the Pit, to damn a Play,
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Not what they know, but by what others say:
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Unmeaning ------ Fools, who, something to be at,
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Follow the leading Cucko, like the Bat,
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And justly merit, as they are despis'd,
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Rather to be rejected than chastis'd.
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So bawling Hu[n]tingdon, and Kent the mute,
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With noise [and n]onsence fill up the dispute:
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And while the Cl[ub proclai]ms the lawless strife,
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One is the Drum, a[nd th' oth]er is the Fife.
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What shall we say of [Fal]conbridge, Bridgwater?
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Or Cherbury, or dull Denbigh shall I flatter?
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Who in the Synod drudge like Gally-slaves,
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And buy the Stock, to make a Gleek of Knaves:
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Like Beasts, insensible of wrong, they stray,
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And find a Pound, quitting the King's High-way.
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And last, behold in Triumph to their Follies,
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In Nol's own Coach of State, comes Loyal Hollis,
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Who sold the Father by an old Commission,
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And purchases the Son with a Petition.
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Now whether has the better on't; the Club,
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Or the Five Members did the Royal job?
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This is the Baker's dozen makes the Rump,
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And little Waller's Leaven to the lump.
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When Bedford civilly had made his Leg,
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The Club engender'd, and brought forth an Egg;
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Which, like Grand Cairo, for a quick dispatch
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Hot Monsieur Parliament must sit and hatch.
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Rowley began to puff, and shake his Noddle,
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And told 'em in plain terms their Brood was addle:
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That to a Rump he never more would give
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Away his Birthright, or Prerogative:
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Then, like a God which from his voice did leap,
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Dissolv'd that Chaos and confused heap.
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Bravely he spake, and wisely he perform'd,
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While still the Club against the Council storm'd:
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Who, rather than from Faction would be free,
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Or touch no more of the forbidden Tree,
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Would damn themselves, and their Posterity.
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