Then you may Letters from Altea bring,
If like Fontvive, 'tis with a just Design

To please the Government and ferve the Queen.
So writes De Foe, an Author now in Vogue,
Who was fo lately Pillor'd for a R----- ;
Therefore let his Example, yours be made;
Neither of Fines, nor Pillories, be afraid.
Lefly wites on, and Gildon still is free
To laugh at Ward for writing Poetry;
Whofe Prose escapes the Cenfure of the Times,
And Informations fall on jingling Rhymes.
To fum up all; let Drake's juft Merit be
A Caution to Poetick Liberty.

Since Ward's true Genius, and fince Gildon's Sense,
At last has brought them to a Dearth of Pence,
'Tis hard their Learning, and each Turn of Wit,
Should only make them for this Triumph fit.

A New Prologue Spoken at the Theatre in Lincolns-Inn-Fields, on Saturday, July the 8th, 1704. in Praise of the Wells.

HY is great Phoebus ftil'd the God of Lays,

WW Who proves fo great an Enemy to Plays?

Most Products thrive by those prolifick Fires,
By which the Languid, Drooping Stage expires,
The Sun calls forth the Town to Rural Sport,
For Wilds and Fields ye change the Stage and
(Court,
To Baths and Wells the Beaus and Belles refort.
ToWells, that great Receit which Doctors give;
To Wells, by which none but Phyficians live 3

Το

To Wells, that heal the Gout, and caufe the Stone;
To Wells, that give ten Pains in curing one.
There the dull Splenetick is cur'd of Life,

And the tormented Husband eas'd of Wife.
For Wife, the worst of Plagues, as fome fuppofe,
Is carry'd off by Waters, or by Beaus.

Their painful Love, to Youth the worst Mishap,
Is cur'd by that moft fure Receit, a Clap.

There finds a Virgin Help, with Fits upon her,
Of that most languifhing Disease call'd Honour.
There the young Squire, fick of his happy Fate,
Is purg'd of Folly, and a great Estate.

There barren Spouse is fent by trading Sot,
And there a Pox, or Alderman is got.

In short, of all Degrees the Wells draw fome;
But more are thofe call'd by the Martial Drum:
The Tragick Scenes Abroad fpoil thofe at Home.
Tragick indeed, but Tragick to our Foes;
Let wide Germania fing, Germania knows,
How much to Britain's Bravery fhe owes.
To Anna's Arms the Austrian owes his Crown,
She faves the Father, and restores the Son.

Upon the first fit of the Gout.

Elcome thou friendly Earneft of Fourscore,
Promise of Health, that haft alone the

T'attend the Rich, unenvy'd by the Poor.
Thou that doft Efculapius deride,

(Power

And o'er his Gallypots in Triumphs ride:
Thou that art us'd t' attend the Royal Throne,
And under-prop the Head that wears the Crown:
Thou that in Privy-Councils oft doft wait,

And guardst from droufy Sleep the Eyes of State :

F

Thou

Thou that upon the Bench art mounted high,
And warnft the Judges how they tread awry:
Thou that doft oft from pamper'd Prelates Toe,
Emphatically urge the Pains below:

"Thou that art always half the City's Grace,
And addft to folemn Noddles folemn Pace:
Thou that art ne'er from Velvet Slippers free,
Whence comes this unfought Honour unto me?
Whence does this mighty Condefcenfion flow
To vifit my poor Tabernacle? Oh!

As Jove vouchfaf'd on Ida's top, 'tis said,
At poor Philemon's Cot to take a Bed;
Pleas'd with his poor, but hofpitable Feast,
Fove bid him ask and granted his Requeft.
So do thou grant (for thou'rt of Race Divine,
Begot on Venus by the God of Wine)

My humble Suit; and either give me Store
To entertain thee, or ne'er fee me more.

Upon Dr. B's Suit to the E. of N. for a Bishoprick.

A

Mong the little Pages that were fent
With Morning How D'yes, and a Compliments
Was feen a lofty Member of the Church,
Whose Name I think they said was Dr. B.
With Primitive Humility he fat,

Fawning and cringing at the Lady's Gate;
Trying t' ingage the Porter in Discourse,
Whether her Grace were better now or worse:
In hopes by just Degrees he might afcend,
And to the waiting Maid his Bufinefs recommend,'
The honest Porter, eafy of Access,

Began his Brother Gown man to caress:

And

Vol. IV.

State-Affairs.

And foon familiar grown in close Debate,
Told him fome fecret Mysteries of State.
The wou'd-be-Prelate vainly now began
To think he should a Dignity obtain;

67.

And pleas'd with the new Friendship he had gain'd,
Hafted forthwith to kiss black Dicky's hand;
Dicky the black, whofe great and favorite Name
Is known as far as that of Nottingham;

Dicky who to the Church was ever kind, (Friend.'
Thrice fhook his Hand, thrice fwore he'd be his
Slighted, contemn'd, and fcorn'd by Men of Senfe,
Noted for Ignorance and Impudence,

Thus meanly he is forc'd t' implore the Aid
Of Porter, Valet, Page, and Chambermaid.
Next let us trace him to the Western Quire,
And fee with what Applause he fills the Chair.
With fuch a Graceful Boldness does he teach,
You'd fwear all was his own that he did preach,
So gay in borrow'd Feathers does he shine;
But Sprat and South are known in every Line.
For Soutb's deep Learning always will appear,
And Sprat will be diftinguish'd by the Ear.
My Brother B. crys Sprat in Courtly tone,
Hath to my Sermons too much Honour done.
Whilft rugged South, made of a coarfer Mould,
Swears he's a Thief, and fcandalously bold.
Some do indeed admire his wondrous Height,
As if he could fupport the Churches Weight;
That he alone could bear the Ballance down,
'Gainft Whiggish Primate and the Scotifh Loon:
With Care he will the Right Divine maintain,
And many Female Profelytes he'll gain.

With the fair Sex Knaves till will most prevail, }
Hypocrify with them can never fail.

The crafty Prieft well knows his fubtle Art,
And will continue ftill to act his Part.

Whether in Midnight Healths the Bowls go round,
Whether at Dice he is with Fortune crown'd;
Whether he forms fome dark or deep Defign,
For killing Wives he never thought a Crime;
Whether his falfe deluding Tongue does move
To Matrimonial or Incestuous Love.

But here my Mufe, be filent as the Night,
In which he acts thofe Scenes of leud Delight,
Left thou tranfgrefs the bounds of Satyr's Laws,
Or Mother-Church efpoufe her Bully's Caufe.

The Addrefs, 1704.

YE Men of Might, and muckle Power,

Our Representing K———s;

Who High-Church Zealots to restore,
And Toleration Acts devour,
Would make us all your Slaves.

You lately told her Majesty,
You would retrieve her Honour ;
'Tis plain you meant it to deceive:
And you'l the Nation's Faults retrieve,
By bringing new ones on her.

If you would have us think you're true,
Let Actions make it known;
The Nation's Happiness perfue,
Her old Miscarriages review,
But don't forget your own.

Tell us, ye Sons of Emptiness.
Explain this Contradiction:

How can Contention bring forth Peace,
Or how a Nation have Succefs,
Without the Laws Protection?

You