For as a fly that goes to bed,
Refts with his tail above his head,
So, in this mongrel state of ours,
The rabble are the fupreme powers,
That hors'd us on their backs, to show us
A jadish trick at last, and throw us.
The learned rabbins of the jews
Write, there's a bone, which they call luez,
I' th' rump of man, of such a virtue,
No force in nature can do hurt to;
And therefore, at the last great day,
All th' other members fhall, they say,
Spring out of this, as from a feed
All forts of vegetals proceed :
From whence the learned fons of art,
Os facrum juftly style that part:
Then what can better represent,
Than this rump-bone, the parliament?
That after fev'ral rude ejections,
And as prodigious refurrections,
With new reverfions of nine lives,
Start up, and, like a cat, revives?
But now, alas! they 're all expir'd,
And th' house, as well as members, fir'd;
Confum'd in kennels by the rout,
With which they other fires put out;
Condemn'd t' ungoverning distress ;
And paltry private wretchedness ;
Worse than the devil to privation,
Beyond all hopes of restoration;
And parted, like the body and foul,
From all dominion and control.
We who could lately, with a look,
Enact, establish, or revoke,
Whofe arbitrary nods gave law,
And frowns kept multitudes in awe;
Before the blufter of whofe huff,
All hats, as in a ftorm, flew off;
Ador'd and bow'd to by the great,
Down to the footman and valet;
Had more bent knees than chapel mats,
And prayers than the crowns of hats,
Shall now be scorn'd as wretchedly:
For ruin 's just as low as high;
Which might be fuffer'd, were it all
The horror that attends our fall:
For fome of us have scores more large
Than heads and quarters can discharge;
And others, who, by restless scraping,
With public frauds, and private rapine,
Have mighty heaps of wealth amafs'd,
Would gladly lay down all at last;
And, to be but undone, entail
Their veffels on perpetual jail,
And bless the devil to let them farms
Of forfeit foul, on no worse terms.
This faid, a near and louder fhout
Put all th' affembly to the rout,
Who now began t' outrun their fear,
As horses do, from those they bear ;
But crowded on with fo much haste,
Until they'd block'd the passage fast,
And barricado'd it with haunches
Of outward men, and bulks and paunches,
That with their fhoulders ftrove to fqueeze,
And rather fave a crippled piece
Of all their crush'd and broken members, 1675
Than have them grilly'd on the embers;
Still preffing on with heavy packs
Of one another on their backs,
The vanguard could no longer bear
The charges of the forlorn rear,
But, borne down headlong by the rout,
Were trampled forely under foot;
Yet nothing prov'd fo formidable,
As th' horrid cook'ry of the rabble :
And fear, that keeps all feelings out,
As leffer pains are by the gout,
Reliev'd 'em with a fresh supply
Of rally'd force, enough to fly,
And beat a Tuscan running horse,
Whose jockey-rider is all spurs.
Part3. Canto 2. Line 1525.
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