Didft thou not love her then? fpeak true.

No more (quoth he) than I love you.

How wouldst thou 'ave us'd her and her money?

Firft turn'd her up to alimony,

And laid her dowry out in law,
To null her jointure with a flaw,
Which I beforehand had agreed
T'have put, on purpose, in the deed,
And bar her widow's making over
T' a friend in truft, or private lover.
What made thee pick and chufe her out
T'employ their forceries about ?

That which makes gamefters play with those
Who have leaft wit, and most to lose.

1185

1190

1195

But didft thou fcourge thy veffel thus,
As thou haft damn'd thyself to us?

I fee you take me for an afs :

'Tis true, I thought the trick would pafs

Upon a woman well enough,

As 't has been often found by proof;

1200

Whofe humours are not to be won

1205

But when they are impos'd upon;

For Love approves of all they do
That ftand for candidates, and wooe.

Why didst thou forge those shameful lyes Of bears and witches in difguife?

1210

That is no more than authors give The rabble credit to believe;

A trick of following their leaders,

To entertain their gentle readers :

And

And we have now no other way

Of paffing all we do or say ;
Which, when 'tis natural and true,
Will be believ'd by' a very few,
Befide the danger of offence,
The fatal enemy of fenfe.

Why didst thou chufe that curfed fin,
Hypocrify, to fet up in ?

Because it is the thriving'ft calling,
The only faints'-bell that rings all in ;
In which all Churches are concern'd,
And is the eafieft to be learn'd:

For no degrees, unless they' employ it,
Can ever gain much, or enjoy it :
A gift that is not only able

1215

1220

1225

"To domineer among the rabble,

1230

But by the laws impower'd to rout

And awe the greatest that stand out;

Which few hold forth againft, for fear

Their hands should slip, and come too near;

For no fin elfe, among the Saints,

1235

Is taught fo tenderly againft.

What made thee break thy plighted vows ?

That which makes others break a house,
And hang, and scorn you all, before
Endure the plague of being poor.
Quoth he, I fee you have more tricks
Than all our doating politicks,
That are grown old, and out of fashion,
Compar'd with your new Reformation ;

1240

That

That we must come to school to you,
To learn your more refin'd and new.
Quoth he, If you will give me leave
To tell you what I now perceive,
You'll find yourself an errant choufe,
If y' were but at a Meeting-house.

'Tis true (quoth he) we ne'er come there,

1245

1250

Because w' have let 'em out by th' year.

Compar'd with th' angels of us men.

Quoth he, I am refolv'd to be

Thy fcholar in this mystery;
And therefore first defire to know

1260

What 's tender confcience ?-'Tis a botch

That will not bear the gentleft touch;

But, breaking out, dispatches more
Than th' epidemical'st plague-fore.

1270

What makes y' incroach upon our trade,

And damn all others ?-To be paid.

What's orthodox and true believing
Against a conscience?—A good living.

What

1275

What makes rebelling against kings

A good old Cause?—Administerings.
What makes all doctrines plain and clear?
About two hundred pounds a-year.

And that which was prov'd true before,
Prove falfe again?-Two hundred more.

What makes the breaking of all oaths A holy duty-Food and cloaths.

What, laws and freedom, perfecution -
Being out of power and contribution.

What makes a church a den of thieves ?-
A Dean and Chapter, and white fleeves.
And what would ferve, if those were gone,
To make it orthodox -Our own.

What makes morality a crime,
The most notorious of the time;
Morality, which both the Saints

And Wicked too cry out against ? 'Cause grace and virtue are within Prohibited degrees of kin ;

And therefore no true Saint allows

They shall be fuffer'd to efpouse :
For Saints can need no confcience,

That with morality dispense;

As virtue 's impious, when 'tis rooted
In nature only, and not imputed:
But why the Wicked should do fo,
We neither know, nor care to do.
What 's liberty of confcience,
I' th' natural and genuine fenfe?

1280

1285

1290

1295

1300

(Though he gave his name to our Old Nick)

In high fpring-tides, at midnight reigns,

Was now declining to the west,

1325

To go to bed and take her reft ;

When

Ver. 1325, 1326.] Our Poet ftands alone in this defcription of the morning's approach: none that I know of, befides himfelf, has painted it by the moon's declenfion he fcorned to follow the old beaten cuftom of defcribing it by the fun's rifing, which he had done once before, Part II. Cant. ii. Ver. 29; but he here finds out a new way, and altogether just.

: