Religious Reliques,
Or, the SALE at the SAVOY; upon the JESUITS Breaking
up their SCHOOL and CHAPPEL.
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[1]
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LAst Sunday, by chance,
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I Encounter'd with Prance,
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That Man of Upright Conversation,
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Who told me such News,
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That I cou'd not chuse
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But Laugh at his sad Declaration.
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[2.]
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Says he, if you'l go,
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You shall see such a Show
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Of Reliques Expos'd to be Sold,
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Which from Sin and Disease
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Will Purge all that please
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To lay out their Silver and Gold.
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[3]
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Straight with him I went,
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Being Zealously bent,
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Where for Sixpence the Man let me in,
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But the Crowd was so great,
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I was all in a Sweat
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Before the Rare Show did begin.
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[4]
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The Curtain being drawn,
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Which I think was of Lawn,
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The PRIEST Cross'd himself thrice, and bow'd;
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Then with a sour Face,
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Denoting his Case,
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He address'd himself thus to the Crowd.
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[5]
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You see our sad State,
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a folly to prate,
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Our Church and our Cause is a-ground;
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So in short, if you've Gold,
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Here is to be Sold
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For a Guinny the worth of Ten Pound.
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[6]
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Here's St. Jamess old Bottle,
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It holds just a Pottle,
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With the Pilgrims Habit he wore;
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The same Scollop shells,
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As our Holy Church tells,
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Who denys it's the Son of a Wh-----
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[7]
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Here's a piece of the Bag,
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By Age turn'd to a Rag,
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In which Judas the Money did bear;
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With a part of his Rope,
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Bequeath'd to the POPE,
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As an Antidote 'gainst all despair.
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[8]
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Here's a Rib of St. Laurence,
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also at Florence,
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And it may be in France, or in Spain;
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It Cures Stone and Gravel,
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And Women in Travel
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It delivers without any Pain.
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[9]
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Here's St. Josephs old Coat,
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Though scarce worth a Groat,
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Its plainness does shew he'd no Pride;
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Yet this he had on,
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For besides it he'd none,
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The day that he Marry'd his Bride.
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[10]
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His Breeches are there,
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A plain Leather Pair,
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Come Buy the whole Suit, if you please;
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They'l defend you from th' Itch,
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From Hag and from Witch,
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And preserve you from Bugs and from Fleas.
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[11]
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Here's the Gall of a Saint,
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For such as do faint,
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Or are troubled with Fits of the Mother;
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Nay, if your Breath stink,
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Worse than Close-stool or Sink,
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It will Cure you as soon as the other.
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[12]
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Here's a Prayer of Pope John,
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The like to't is none,
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If you say it but three times a year;
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Three hundred in grace,
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And three hundred 'twill place
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In Heaven, if they ever come there.
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[13]
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Here's our Lady's old Shoo,
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Which in Old-time was new,
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It will Cure all your Kibes and your Corns;
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With the Coyfe of St. Bridget,
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To be worn by each Ideot,
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Whose Head is tormented with Horns.
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[14]
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Heres a Bottle of Tears,
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Preserv'd many years,
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Of Mary's that once was a Sinner;
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Some o' th' Fish and the Bread
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That the Five Thousand fed,
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Which our Saviour Invited to Dinner.
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[15]
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Here's St. Francis own Cord,
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You may take 't on my word,
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Who dies in it cannot be Damn'd;
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Do but buy it, and try,
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If I tell you a lye,
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Many Thousands of Heaven are shamm'd.
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[16]
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Here's his Holiness's Beard,
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Of whom you have heard,
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That the Hereticks called Pope Joan,
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Yet this I dare Swear
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Was his natural Hair,
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Or else I'll be Sworn he had none.
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[17]
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Its Vertue is such,
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That if it does touch
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Your Head, or your Face, or else-where,
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It does strait-way Restore
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More than e're was before,
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Though by Age or by Action worn bare.
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[18]
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Here's St. Christophers Boot,
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For his Right Leg and Foot,
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Which he wore when he ply'd at the Ferry,
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When on's Shoulders he bore
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His Blessed Lord o're,
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For the Poor Man had never a Wherry.
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[19)
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Such as Sail on the Seas,
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I am sure it will please,
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For its parrallel never was found;
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Neither Tempest nor Storm
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Can e're do 'em harm,
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Nor is't possible they shou'd be drown'd.
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[20]
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Here's infinite more,
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I have by me in store,
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All which lye conceal'd in this Hamper;
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Either buy 'em today,
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Or I'll throw 'em away,
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For tomorrow, by Heaven, I'll scamper.
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[21]
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Our Market is done,
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We must Shut up at Noon,
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We expect 'em each hour at the Door;
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We are Hang'd if we stay,
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And we can't get away,
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For none will, nor dare carry us o're.
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[22]
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But by th' Faith of a PRIEST,
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This is no time to jest,
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Since we're Baulk'd in our great Expectation;
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Before I will Swing
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Like a Dog in a String,
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I'll Renounce the Transubstantiation.
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