Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A53525
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The poet's complaint of his muse, or, A satyr against libells a poem / by Thomas Otway.
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Otway, Thomas, 1652-1685.
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1680
(1680)
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Wing O556; ESTC R21975
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11,145
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28
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his Peace and Laws So will be ever and was call'd bless us THE GOOD OLD CAUSE 10. A Time there was a sad one too When all things wore the face of Woe When many Horrors rag'd in this our Land And a destroying Angel was sent down To scourge the Pride of this Rebellious Town He came and o're all Britain stretcht his conqu'ring hand Till in th'untrodden Streets unwholsom Grass Grew of great stalk its Colour gross And melancholick pois'nous green Like those course sickly Weeds on an old Dunghill seen Where some Murrain-murther'd Hog Poison'd Cat or strangled Dog In rottenness had long unburied laid And the cold Soil productive made Birds of ill Omen hover'd in the Air And by their Cries bade us for Graves prepare And as our Destiny they seem'd t' unfold Dropt dead of the same fate they had foretold That dire Commission ended down there came Another Angel with a Sword of Flame Desolation soon he made And our new Sodom low in Ashes laid Distractions and Distrusts then did amongst us rise When in her pious old Disguise This Witch with all her Mischief-making Train Began to shew her self again The Sons of old Rebellion strait she summon'd all Strait They were ready at her call Once more th' old Bait before their eyes she cast That and her Love they long'd to tast And to her Lust she drew them all at last So Reuben we may read of heretofore Was led astray and had pollution with his Father's Whore 11. The better to conceal her lewd intent In safety from observing eyes Th' old Strumpet did her self disguise In comely Weeds and to the City went Affected Truth much Modesty and Grace And like a worn-out-Suburb-Trull past there for a new Face Thither all her Lovers flockt And there for her support she found A Wight of whom Fame's Trumpet much does sound With all Ingredients for his bus'ness stockt Not unlike him whose Story has a place In th'Annals of Sir Hudibras Of all her bus'ness He took care And every Knave or Fool that to her did repair Had by him admittance there By his contrivance to her did resort All who had been disgusted at the Court Those whose Ambition had been crost Or by ill manners had Preferments lost Were those on whom she practis'd most her Charms Lay nearest to her Heart and oft'nest in her Arms. Int'rest in every Faction every Sect she sought And to her Lure flatt'ring their hopes she brought All those who use Religion for a Fashion All such as practise Forms and take great pains To make their Godliness their Gains And thrive by the Distractions of a Nation She by her Art ensnar'd and fetter'd in her Chains Through her the Atheist hop'd to purchase Toleration The Rebell Pow'r the beggar'd Spend thrift Lands Out of the King 's or Bishop's hands Nay to her side at last she drew in all the rude Ungovernable headlong Multitude Promis'd strange Liberties and sure Redress Of never-felt unheard-of Grievances Pamper'd their Follies and indulg'd their Hopes With May-day-Routs November Squibs and burning Past-board Popes 12. With her in common Lust did mingle all the Crew Till at the last she pregnant grew And from her womb in little time brought forth This monstrous most detested Birth Of Children born with Teeth w 'ave heard And some like Comets with a Beard Which seem'd to be fore-runners of dire Change But never hitherto was seen Born from a Wapping Drab or Shoreditch Quean A Form like this so hideous and so strange To help whose Mother in her Pains there came Many a well-known Dame The Bawd Hypocrisy was there And Madam Impudence the fair Dame Scandall with her squinting Eyes That loves to set good Neighbours at debate And raise Commotions in a jealous State Was there and Malice Queen of far-spred Lies With all their Train of Frauds and Forgeries But Midwife Mutiny that busy Drab That 's always talking always loud Was she that first took up the Babe And of the office most was proud Behold its Head of horrid form appears To spight the Pillory it had no Ears When strait the Bawd cry'd out 't was surely kin To the blest Family of Pryn. But Scandall offer'd to depose her word Or oath the Father was a Lord. The Nose was ugly long and big Broad and snowty like a Pig Which shew'd he would in Dunghills love to dig Love to cast stinking Satyrs up in ill-pil'd Rymes And live by the Corruptions of unhappy Times 13. They promis'd all turns to take him And a hopefull Youth to make him To nurse he strait was sent To a Sister-witch though of another sort One who profest no good nor any meant All day she practis'd Charms by night she hardly slept Yet in the outcasts of a Northern factious Town A little smoaky Mansion of her own Where her Familiars to her did resort A Cell she kept Hell she ador'd and Satan was her God And many an ugly loathsom Toad Crawl'd round her walls and croak'd Under her Roof all dismall black and smoak'd Harbour'd Beetles and unwholsom Bats Sprawling nests of little Cats All which were Imps she cherisht with her blood To make her Spells succeed and good Still at her rivell'd Breasts they hung when e're mankind she curst And with these Foster-brethren was our Monster nurst In little Time the Hell-bred Brat Grew plump and fat Without his Leading-strings could walk And as the Sorceress taught him talk At sev'n years old he went to School Where first he grew a foe to Rule Never would he learn as taught But still new Ways affected and new Methods sought Not that he wanted parts T' improve in Letters and proceed to Arts But as negligent as sly Of all Perverseness brutishly was full By Nature idle lov'd to shift and lie And was obstinately dull Till spight of Nature through great pains the Sot And th' Influence of th' ill Genius of our Land At last in part began to understand Some insight in the Latin Tongue he got Could smatter pretty well and write too a plain hand For which his Guardians all thought fit In Compliment to his most hopefull Wit He should be sent to learn the Laws And out of the good old to raise a damn'd new Cause 14. In which the better to improve his Mind As by nature he was bent To search in hidden paths and things long buried find A Wretche's Converse much he did frequent One who this World as that did Him disown'd And in an unfrequented Corner where Nothing was pleasant hardly healthfull found He led his hated life Needy and ev'n of Necessaries bare No Servant had he Children Friend or Wife But of a little remnant got by Fraud For all ill turns he lov'd all good detested and believ'd no God Thrice in a week he chang'd a hoarded Groat With which of Beggars Scraps he bought Then from a neighb'ring Fountain Water got Not to be clean but slake his Thirst. He never blest himself and