7 
ae 
a 
a PO 1E “Ek: RY. 
Cow-horns and trumpets mix their martial tones, 
Kidnies and Kings, mouthing and marrow-bones; 
Suet and fighs, blank verfe and blood abound, 
And form a tragi-comedy around. 
With weeping lovers, dying calves complain, 
Confufion reigns, and Chaos comes again. 
Hither your fteelyards, Butchers, bring to weigh 
The pound of flefh Antonio’s bond muft pay; 
Hither your knives, ye Chriftians clad in blue, 
Bring, to be wetted by the cruel Jew. 
Hard is our lot, who, feldom doom’d to eat, 
Caft a fheep’s eye on this forbidden treat 5 
Gaze on firloins, which, ah! we muft not carve, 
And in the midit of legs of mutton, flarve! 
But wou’d you to our houfe in crouds repair, 
Ye gen’rous Captains, and ye blooming fair; 
The fate of Tantalus we fhould not fear, 
Nor pine for a repaft that lies fo near; 
Monarchs no more wou’d fupperlefs remain, 
Nor pregnant Queens for cutlets long in vain, 
VERSES & Sr Joun HarynerTon. 
To his Ni¥ E— Of Womens Vertues. 
A WELL learn’d man, in rules of life no Stoyk, 
Yet one that careles epicures derided, 
Qf weomens vertues talking, them devided 
In three, the private, ciyill, and heroyke, 
And what he faid of theife, to tell you briefly, 
He firft began difcourfing of the private, 
Which each playn cuntry hufwife may arive at, 
As homely, and that home concearneth chiefly. 
The fruit, malt, hops, to tend, to dry, to utter, 
To beat, ftrip, fpin the woll, the hemp, the flax, 
Breed poultry, gather honey, try the wax, 
And more than al] to have good cheefe and butter, 
Then next a ftep, but yet a lardge ftep higher, 
Was civill vertue, fitter for the citty, 
- With modett lookes, good cloths, and anfwers witty, 
Thofe bafer things not dong but guided by her. 
Her idJe tymes and ydle coyne’ fhe fpends 
On needle works; and, when the feafon farvs, 
“In making dainty junketts and confarvs 
To welcom in kynd fort his deareft frends, 
141 
hes 
But 
on 
7 me eee, SF 
