or, the
of the
Univerſity of Oxford.

Burlesque Verſe.

By Mrs.Alicia D’Anvers.

Printed and ſold by Randal Taylor near Stationers
. 16901691. 0. 12. March.

π1v A1r

To the University

Hail peaceful Shade, whoſe ſacred verdant ſide

Bold Thamiſis ſalutes, hail Noble Tide;

Hail Learning’s Mother, hail Great Brittains Pride.

Hail to thy lovely Groves, and Bowers, wherein

Thy Hea’ven begotten Darlings ſit, and ſing;

Thy Firſt-born Sons, who ſhall in After-Story

Share thy loud Fame, as now they Bring thee Glory.

Arriv’d as ſuch a rich Maturity,

Thoſe who ſpell Man ſo well, would bluſh to be

Took at the Mothers Breaſt, or Nurſes Knee;

Much more in filth to wallow Shoulder high,

In Tears, till his kind Nurſe had laid him dry.

A Actions A1v

Actions that give no bluſh of Guilt, or Shame,

To thoſe ſo young, that yet they want a Name,

(I’ve heard that Brute, and Infant are the ſame.)

Then beauteous Matron, frown not on me for’t.

Tho at the triflings of your younger ſort,

I ſmile ſo much; ſince all I hope to do,

Is but to raiſe your Smiles, and others too,

And pleaſe my ſelf, if pardon’d firſt by you.

Academia B1r 1

Academia: or the Humours of the Univerſity of Oxford.

I Intend to give you a Relation,

As prime as any is in the Nation:

The Name of th place is――let me ſee,

Call’d moſt an end the ’Verſity;

In which ſame place, as Story tells,

Liv’d once Nine handſome bonny Girls,

Highly in olden Time reputed,

Tho’ now ſo thawct’d and perſecuted;

B Schollars B1v 2

Schollars belike now can’t abide ’um,

So that they’re fain to ſcout and hide ’um,

Or’s ſure as you’re alive they’d beat ’um;

Out of the place they’d choſe to ſeat ’um,

And they who won’t be ſeen to maul ’um,

Revile, beſpatter ’um, or becall ’um.

E’ne theſe ſly Curs would Strumpets make ’um,

When e’re they catch ’um can, or take ’um,

And pinch ’um, till they’ve made ’um ſing ye,

The filthy’ſt ſtuff as one can bring ye;

The end of all ſuch Raſcals wooing,

Proves many ’a heedleſs Girle’s undoing:

All theſe, and twenty more Abuſes,

Are daily offer’d to the Muſes.

You may perceive, I’me mightily

Diſturb’d, they’re us’d ſo ſpitefully;

And muſt confeſs, where’s no denying,

That I can hardly hold from crying;

But that I mayn’t be ſeen to bellow,

Like ’Girl forſaken by a Fellow,

Roar, throw my Snot about, and blubber,

Like School-Boys, or an am’rous Lubber,

I’le B2r 3

I’le lay aſide my Bowels yearning,

And talk of Scholars, and their Learning.

When the young Farmer, or young Farrier,

Comes jogging up with’s Country Carrier,

Well hors’d as he, for I have ſeen ’um

Both have but one good Horſe between ’um:

But two Bums, with one Horſe there under,

Is no great matter of a wonder;

For ſome are fain to ride o’th ’packing,

Made eaſie with good Straw, and Sacking,

Kindly contriv’d for’s Buttocks ſake,

Which otherwiſe might chance to ake:

But then there’s no great fear of tumbling,

Altho the Nag were giv’n to ſtumbling;

He can’t be hurt (Sir,) if you’d have him,

Say he ſhou’d fall, the pack would ſave him:

So that if I might tell my mind, Sir,

I’ds live ride ſo, as ride behind Sir.

Then if the Young-Man’s Band or Cravit,

Handkerchief, Neck-cloath, what you’ll have it,

B2 Be B2v 4

Be ill put on, or off be blow’n,

The Carrier tyes, or pins it on;

Or he had been a very Clown, to

Be bred and born i’th ſame Town too.

And knew his Friends ſo well, and knew him,

That wou’dn’t have been civil to him;

Beſide, a charge given by his Mother,

To uſe him kinder than another.

Now being arrived at his Colledge

The place of Learning, and of Knowledge,

A while he’ll leer about, and ſnivel ye,

And doff his Hat to all moſt civilly,

Being told at home that a ſhame Face too,

Was a great ſign he had ſome Grace too,

He’l ſpeak to none, alas! for he’s

Amaz’d at every Man he ſees:

May-hap this laſts a Week, or two,

Till ſome Scab laughs him out on’t, ſo,

That when moſt you’d expect his mending,

His Breeding,s ended, and not ending:

Now B3r 5

Now he dares walk abroad, and dare ye,

Hat on, in Peoples Faces ſtare ye,

Thinks what a Fool he was before, to

Pull off his Hat, which he’d no more do;

But that the Devil ſhites Diſaſters,

So that he’s forc’d to cap the Maſters,

He might have nail’d it to his Head, elſe,

And wore it Night, and Day a Bed, elſe,

And then de’e ſee, for I’de have you mind it,

He had always known where to find it;

But of a bad thing, make the beſt ſay,

And of two Evils chuſe the leaſt pray,

He muſt cap them; but for all other,

Tho ’twere his Father, or his Mother,

His Gran’um, Unckle, Aun’t, or Couſin,

He wo’ not give one Cap to a dozen;

Tho you muſt know he flows with Mony,

Giv’n by his Mam, unto her Hony;

His Aunts, their Six-pence were apiece too,

Having had the luck to ſell their Geeſe to

Some profit, that ſame Market-day,

Being th’ o’re night he came away:

But B3v 6

But f’rall they were ſo loving to him,

Beſure they’d always ſee him doing,

Becauſe they entertained this Hope,

In time he might become a Biſhop;

That often he had cauſe to grumble,

Under thick-fiſted Maſter Fumble:

The Maſter of the School was he,

And ſlaſh’d him for his good, de’e ſee,

Beating his Brains into his Collar,

That he might prove the better Schollar.

He looks upon it as a Bleſſing

Beyond his wiſh and his expreſſing;

A good Subſtantial, and no Fiction,

To be free from his Juriſdiction,

With’s Fellow Rake-Hells gets acquainted,

Who might i’th the Country have been Sainted.

Theſe kindly hug young Soph, and ſqueeze him,

And of his Caſh t’a Farthing eaſe him;

This being done, and being ſo,

He’s at a loſs now what to do.

So here I’le leave him, I muſt tell ye,

With a Heart panting in his Belly;

But B4r 7

But leſt Deſpair prove his undoing,

E’re long I’le come again unto him,

With ſome of’s hackle and profeſſion,

Tho I muſt make a ſhort digreſſion;

Theſe being of another ſort, then

Thoſe who’re deſign’d for Inns of Court-men.

Who moſt an end come up a Horſe-back,

Tho many a time they’re brought a pick-pack,

Like Geeſe to Market, niddle, noddle,

So high, no mar’l their Brains prove oddle.

Another ſort of idle Loaches

Come lolling up to Town in Coaches;

Thoſe I’ve ſpoken of, de’e obſerve me,

Either’s a Servitor to ſerve ye,

Brings Bread and Beer, or what is call’d for,

Eating what’s left, Trencher and all (Sir:)

Or elſe a Commoner may be,

And thinks himſelf better than he,

Becauſe he ſhou’d pay for his eating,

But can’t, unleſs you’l take a beating.

The next, who ’as leave to domineer,

Adds Gentelman to Commoner,

Moſt B4v 8

Moſt dearly tender’d by his Mother,

Who loves him better than his Brother;

So ſhe at home, a good while keeps him,

In White-broath, and Canary ſteeps him:

And tho his Noddles ſomewhat empty,

His Guts are ſtuft with Sweet-meats plenty:

Madams moſt ſadly toſticated,

Knowing her Boy but empty-pated,

Leſt the ſoft Squire might ſtarved be,

When ere hes ſent toth Verſity;

Which to prevent, and to befriend him,

A Pye, or Cake, ſhell quickly ſend him,

Directed for her loving Son,

Living i’th Colledge in Oxford Town;

Charging her Man to let him know,

That they’re all well, and hope he’s ſo:

But what his Mother ſent up with him,

Being much more than now ſhe gives him;

And all conſumd; he thinks it beſt

To hide, and eat by himſelf the reſt:

His will at Home (Sir,) always having,

But made his Stomach, the more craving;

May- C1r 9

May hap they’d twenty hundred Diſhes,

And twenty thouſand ſort of Fiſhes,

Of which, when but a little Elf,

He’d eat the greateſt part himſelf;

De’e think then ’twould not make the young Lad

At a Three half pence Meat become ſad,

Which at the Colledge, you muſt know, Man’s

No more, nor leſs; than one Boys Commons?

And then, they make a hideous clutter

For a Farth’n Drink, Bread, Cheese, or Butter;

And would that pay, now, in your thinking,

For waſhing of the Pot they drink in?

Yet for all this, his Tutor cryes ye,

Sufficient ’tis, and may ſuffice ye;

Knowing from being bred a Schollar,

Much eating breeds both Flegm, and Coller,

Much praying him, does much adviſe it,

If he loves Learning, to deſpise it:

Glutt’ony (thinks Soph,) who e’re abhorr’d it,

That had wherewith, and could afford it?

Tho’ like a Log he ſtands, he’s thinking,

He lives by eating, and by drinking,

C And C1v 10

And finds it ſo unreasſonable,

He mayn’t eat all that comes to Table;

That truth, he may adviſe him to’t,

But for his part he’ll never do’t,

Preach till his heart akes, of forebearing,

He for his ſhare, will ne’re be ſparing;

And when he’s told ’tis naught for’s head, to

Lye all the livelong day a-bed ſo;

He fears his Tutor would prevent

His having any Nouriſhment.

When Categorematical,

A Word, you’d think the Devil and all,

But hold!――I think there is another,

Should a’took place as Elder Brother,

’Tis, let me ſee, now, whach’ee call,


Were it Old Nick, enough to muſle him,

For all his years, and ſtanding, puzle him;

Soph, when this comes, (as I was ſaying,)

Begins to know the uſe of praying,

Bleſſing C2r 11

Bleſſing himſelf, and his Relations,

From theſe, and ſuch like Conjurations;

Maſter Exiſtence, almost mad is,

To ſee one ſtupid as this Lad is,

And ’faith and troth, it is a woe thing,

When he need ſay no more then, nothing

You mean by thoſe long words, or ſomething;

Then en’t the Logger head a Bumpkin:

For’s pains the Tutor but a looby,

To make this hubbub with a Booby;

And think, that all his care can do,

May alter, what he’s born unto:

A Fool both bred, and born was he,

Was ſo begot, and ſo muſt be;

And’s Mother’d have him ſo, the rather

That in him, ſhe might ſee his Father.

’Tis not a Tutors circumſpection,

Can keep the Blockhead from infection,

While the Diſtemper’s in his Nature,

You muſt expect him a Man-hater;

Being one o’th Puppys o’th’ Nation,

Both by deſcent, and inclination,

C2 Follow- C2v 12

Following his Noble Anceſtors,

A company of lazy Curs,

Bord’ring like them, ſo much on Beaſt,

Loves what’s the fartheſt off the leaſt;

Tho’s Tutor thinks his over-dulneſs

Comes from his often over-fulneſs,

And that his Brains become ſo muddy,

From having Paſtys in his Study;

But he might lay aſide that fear,

Could he but find one two days there;

But why, not eating do him good tho’,

By breeding Brains as well as Blood ſo.

No matter, tho’ his Tutor jobes him,

His Father but the better loves him,

Asking, If’s Son has got a Punck yet,

Whores ye, and gets ye often drunk yet;

Being told by’s Man, he took him quaffing,

For joy he burſts his ſides with laughing

And prithee John (ſays he) and how was’t?

Ha, drunk ’ith’ Cellar, as a Sow, waſt?

John C3r 13

John ſimpers, makes a Leg, or ſo;

And ſince his Worſhips pleas’d to know,

An’t like ye, we were ſomething mellow,

For I Sir, and another Fellow――

The juſtice growing into a Paſſion,

Cuts him ’ith’ midſt of his Relation,

Cries, where was your young Maſter Sirrah?

O ho, quoth John――and ſay――where wor’a,

Down in the Cellar too, I wot,

But I was ſo goun, Ide forgot,

For I’ve a lamentable head,

’Specially when I’me cut ’ith’ Leg,

But Maſter, (Sir) need never ſpare it,

Hoa has a pure ſtrung head to bear it;

And ſo ’ud need (Sir) for ought I know,

Few Scholards are ſo learne’d as hoa;

I’de give your Worſhip all my earning,

To have hoa’s ſtock (Sir) of Book-learning;

Something (Sir,) did my Maſter ſay,

For I was bent, to bring’t away,

But I’ve a plaguee Head-Piece――look now.

I ha’t――’twas Latin, for the Cook now,

Hoa C3v

Hoa call’d him Choke us――ſo’t muſt be,

I knew ’twas ſomewhat of Cookery.

Here my Old Maſter laughs moſt ſurely,

Tho’ John looks all the while demurely;

And while he’s pleas’d beyond expreſſion,

To underſtand his Sons Profeſſion;

John ſteals out to the place they wiſh him,

I mean, among the Maids ’ith Kitchin;

They’d got there too, young Maſter’s Siſter,

Her Mother yet not having miſt her;

They that wa’n’t there, were very ſorry,

All longing ſo to hear John’s Story,

Of where, and how, and what hea’d ſeen,

And in what Colleges hea’d been;

Thus having made a general Muſter,

The Men and Maids got of a Cluſter,

Having all bid him welcome home, John,

Beſs ſcatching of her Pate, cries, come John,

How does my little Maſter do?

Cries John, no ſmall one, now I trow;

Now C4r 15

Now, ſhould you ſee’n, you wou’dn’t known,

O Ceremony! hoa’s hougely grown!

Make a brave Man, but given grace;

Why, hoa lives in a ſweetly place;

(Crys Tom,) he made you welcome ſurely:

O ay (Cryes John,) we revel’d purely!

Our Tenants feaſt to that, mun nothing’s,

We purg’d, as we had dranck at both ends.

Count, what came tumbling down our Hoaſes,

Beſide what flew out from our Noſes;

’Twould make one ſplit ones Guts I ſwear tho,

But for my part it made me ſtare tho;

There’s in the Cellar, to my thinking,

A Horn, At Queens there is ſuch a Horn, but Johns Description is ſufficient. or ſomething elſe to drinck in,

Which being fill’d full, as it can hold,

’Tis his that drincks it off I’m told;

But here’s the thing that makes the rout,

When you drinck deep it flyes about,

And dout’s one’s Eyes, and makes one cough,

So that one ne’re can tope it off;

Such ugly tricks I can’t endure, I,

For’t ſpoil’d the Band Sue waſh’d ſo purely,

And C4v 16

And all my Boſome fell adown too,

When I’de no other Shirt in Town too;

And ’cauſe they’l have no Freſh-men there,

At firſt the Schollards ſalt one’s bear;

O law! I wiſh’d my ſelf at home;

It made me ſpue ſo; ay (ſays Tom,)

As good a ſtaid at home and threſh John,

And ſo have ever been a Freſhman;

And were was this (cryes Beſs,) at Queens,

There Mr. William went it ſeems,

Queens, ay (ſays John,) as neat a place

As could be made to hold her Grace:

O ay (cryes Tom,) I think I’ve heard ſo,

The Queen was once a Schollar there too;

(Cries John,) ’tis true, from thence it came,

That ever ſince it has her Name.

Tom asks, what fine things to be ſeen,

Beſide the Colledge of the Queen?

(Cries John) a many in the Town:

Firſt theres a houge’ous maſty Clown, A Tree cut into the ſhape of a Giant, the Face Alabaſter.

As you go into th’ Phyſick Garden,

Maſter ne’re ſhew’d me, but I ſtar’d in,

The D1r 17

The Yat’s all hung about with whimwhoms,

As Fiſhes Bones, and other thingums:

This Giant ſtands as you come firſt in,

For I took heart at laſt to thruſt in;

His Head has got an Iron Cap on,

To keep of Showers, or what might happen;

His Face is like a Man’s, to ſee to,

And yet his Bodies but a Tree too:

Strutting, ’a holds a Club on’s Shoulder,

Which makes him look more fierce and bolder;

And I was told there was another,

Which now is dead, There was two of theſe, the great Froſt deſtroyed one. and was his Brother:

I went on th’ other ſide to eye’n,

Not careing much to come to nye’n;

Leaſt with his Club he ſhould be doing;

But the Folks ſaid, one might go to him:

But for my part, I did not care,

To look in’s Face he did ſo ſtare.

There lyes a Tooth, A great Whale-bone. I tell a Fib too,――

Some call’t a Tooth, but moſt a Rib do.

A vaſt thing ’tis, what e’re it be,

And put there for a Rarity.

D When D1v 18

When you are gone a little further,

You happen juſt on ſuch another;

A Crane A Tree cut in the ſhape of a Crane. it is, as People tell ye,

Grow’ing from a Tree Stalk by the Belly.

Whether alive or no’s, no knowing,

Her Bill touts up, juſt as if crowing.

Well! they all bleſs’d themſelves that heard it,

How John beheld it, and ne’re fear’d it;

But what they ſtood the moſt upon Sir,

Was how he flip’t by the Man Monſter.

Which made his Fellow Servants ſay,

John had more mind to Sights then they.

But as for Elſabeth, ſhe cry’d,

If I had ſeen it, I had dy’d.

John being wiſer, term’d them Fools,

Well, thence I hobl’d to the Schools:

Liſtning (cryes John,) to hear a Noiſe there,

But then belike there were no Boys there.

For if there had, there’d been a lurry,

Such as Dogs make, that Cattle worry.

Look D2r 19

Look ye, the Houſen all are Tyl’d,

The Door way’s Pitch’d; I was ſo ſoil’d

With the damn’d Stones, where one goes,

They do ſo knock, and bump ones Toes.

The Schools de’e mark’s a very fair place,

With Rooms built round it, but a ſquare place.

The Doors all ſomething writ upon,

By which there’s ſomething may be known.

I ask’d a Scollard that ſtood leaning,

What that was writ for, and the meaning?

Hoa told me, that they was――a Tu---d;

Now I’ve forgot it ev’ry word.

No matter, ſo much I can tell ye,

One may be taught there all things well’y.

That Schools Aſtronomy School. to learn ye conjuring,

’Tother Muſick School. to Whiſtle, and to Sing,

And how to play upon the Fiddle,

To keep the Lads from being idle.

But what to greater good amounts,

A School Arithmetick School. they have to teach Accounts;

By which each one may caſt up nearly,

How many Farthings he ſpends yearly.

D2 A D2v 20

A Door I ſpy’d was open ſtanding,

I budg’d no farther than my Band in:

But by a Scollard I was holp in,

A civil Youth, and a well ſpoken;

We went together up the Stair Caſe,

Going, till coming to a rare place, Library.

As thick of Books as one could thatch ’um,

And Ladders ſtood about to reach ’um.

On each ſide were two round things Two Globes ſtanding,

Made ſo to turn about with handing:

By one Cæleſtial. they knew, as I am told,

When Weather would be whot or cold,

What time for ſetting, and for ſowing,

When to prune Trees the beſt for growing;

By this they make the Almanacks,

And twenty other harder knacks;

And ’tis by this they conjure too Man,

Knowing a Thief from any true Man.

So that you’d think thse Devil’s in ’um,

Goods loſt, or ſtole again to bring ’um;

And D3r 21

And tho’ a good while I have ſeen it,

I ne’re can count you half, that’s in it.

The other thing Terreſtrial. when round it’s whurld,

Shews all the Roads about the World,

May find if well you look about,

There all the Ponds and Rivers out;

But that the Schollard was in haſte ſo,

Hoa wou’d have ſhewn our Houſe at laſt too.

So I went all about the Meeting,

Some People in their Pews were ſitting Schollars at Study.

Tho’ but a few, here and there one,

The Miniſter not being come;

I’le ſay’t, I long’d to hear the Preaching,

I warrant’ee, ay, ’twas dainty Teaching.

I askd a young Youth what it mean’d,

That all them Conjuring Books are chain’d:

Hoa ſaid they being full of Cunning,

It ſeems would elſe have been for running, Or Stolen.

Before they had them Chains, they ſay,

A number of them run away.

There’s ſuch an Oceant ſtill, I wonder’d,

How they could miſs a thouſand hunder’d.

But D3v 22

But that indeed again is ſomething,

They can know all things by the round thing.

As I went on, the Folk ſtudents diſturbed. that reads, Would many times pop up their Heads. And douck ’um down (may hap) again, And theſe are call’d the Learned Men. And look for all the World as frighted, But were I to be hang’d, or knighted, I can’t imagine what mought ail’d ’um, For could they think one wou’d a ſteal’d ’um; Well, by and by, there’s one comes to me, I thought the Fellow might have knew me, Hoa ſaid, I muſt not make a ſtomping, And that it was no place to jump in; Whop Sir, thought I, and what ado’s here, About the Nails that in ones Shoes are; Hoa told me that the Men were earning A world of ſomething by their Learning, And that a Noiſe might put them out, So that they ne’re could bring’t about. Well D4r 23 Well, cauſe hoa made a din about ’um. I daff’d my Shoes, and went without ’um. The Fellow gern’d, or ſmil’d. (and cry’d,) what’s that for? (I ſaid,) and what would you be at, Sir? My Shoes I take under my Arm, Rather than do their Worſhips harm, Becauſe I would not leave the room, Before the Miniſter be come. At that, hoa laugh’d; ſo for my part, I thought the Fool would break his Heart, I was ſo mad to ſee ’n flout ma, I long’d almoſt to lay about ma; But thinking that might there be Evil, I thought ’twere better to be civil: Tying my Shoes upon my Feet, I went down Stairs into the Street.

(Says Betty) well, and prithee John,

Of what Religion is this Town?

No, no, (Says Tom,) but firſt let’s hear,

What elſe, is to be ſeen there:

No more haſt, then good ſpeed, (cries John,)

I ſhall be with you all anon;

The D4v 24

The next place that I comes you in,

Was a moſt lovely ſpacious thing,

To know the Name, is no great matter,

But now I think on’t, ’tis the Thatter, Theater.

The Thatter Yard about beſet is,

With Holly, and with Iron Lattice,

The ends of which, ſame Bars made faſt are,

In Poſts of Stone or Alablaſter,

And upon every Poſtes top,

There’s an Old Mans Head ſet up;

About there ſtand a many brave Stones, Antiquities brought from Jeruſal.Jerusalem &c.

Which are for all the World like Grave-Stones,

I marle why they were carry’d there!

No Folks belike are buried there.

The Houſe is round――our Maſter has,

You know, a Round-Houſe in the Cloſe;

This is much ſuch another Building,

But for the Painting and the Guilding,

The leading on the top, and then too,

Tis twenty times as big agen too;

A top of all’s a little Steeple, Cupilo.

But ne’re a Bell to call the People.

Down E1r 25

Down in the Cellar folks Printers. are doing

Something that makes a world of bowing,

Some throw Black Balls, their Heads ſome throwing,

As if they Arſe-ward were a mowing,

Stooping a little more to view ’um,

They kindly ask’d me to come to ’um;

But look ye (Tom) for here’s the thing now,

One could not come in at the Window,

And for my ſhare, I could no more

Fly in the Air, than find the door;

A world of Paper there was lying,

Beſides a deal as hung a drying,

They being wet as I ſuppoſe,

Were hung on Lines, as we hang Cloaths;

The Folk below began to hollow,

Whop, you there, honeſt Country Fellow;

We’ll print your Name, What is’t I wonder?

Says I, one’s John, (Sir,) t’other Blunder;

They bid me walk that way a little,

I’de find a dore about the middle:

Which having found, (ſaid they,) Go in,

Not ſaying any kind of thing;

E Well, E1v 26

Well, in comes I, where Men were picking,

Of little things, that makes a nicking:

And hoa that ſent me, not to cheat ma,

Came up, as I came in, to meet ma;

Hoa told me, them ſmall things were Letters,

And that the Men themſelves were Setters;

And ſo would you think it! why, this ſame too,

Bid one o’th Fellows do my Name too:

And ſo’a did, and down we went,

To have John Blunder put in Prent;

And here ’tis for you all to look on’t,

See, if they have not made a Book on’t;

Look, Look, (cryes Beſs,) ſo ’tis I vow!

John Blunder, as I live ’tis ſo.

But hold, let’s read the reſt on’t tho;

Let Tom, he’s the beſt Schollard ho:

John being juſt come from Oxford, too

Moſt thought, that beſt his Name he knew,

Having ſeen how ’twas put together,

They knew he could not miſs on’t neither;

So out he read it in a Tune,

John Blunder, Oxford Printed June:

But E2r 27

But coming to the Figures, was

(But that Tom help’d him) at a loſs,

Not knowing what i’th’ world to do,

To know if that was one or two;

At laſt ’twas found to be One Thouſand

Six Hundred, Seventy and a dozen.

(Says John,) the Printers are ſuch Sots,

This bit of Paper coſt two Pots,

Beſide, it coſt me two Pence more,

To one that fits to dup Open. ’a dore,

That is, quote (as it were) within there,

Where one ſees all that’s to be ſeen there;

So, in went I, with this ſame Maiden,

And not till I come out I Paid ’en;

It is the fineſt place, that ever

My Eyes beheld, it’s wrought ſo clever:

The top’s The Roof of the Theatre. all pictur’d moſt compleatly,

Squar’d into Golden Frames ſo neatly;

Why, there is drawn a power of things,

Nay, I dare ſay, they all are Kings,

Dreſt up in Silken Garments finely,

Some look ye ſoure, and ſome look kindly;

E2 There’s E2v 28

There’s ſome kiſs ſome, may hap a Drab there,

Speaks a Wench fine, ſhe gives a ſtab there,

There’s ſome a fighting, ones a wooing,

With little Boys a flying to him:

There’s one Envy. looks grinning, welle’e mad,

With Eels, all done about her Head,

She taps Folks till their Blood runs out ’um,

With all their Guts hanging about ’um,

There’s Seats on purpoſe built (they ſay there,)

For Folks to ſit on, they as may there:

There is a Gallery made juſt ſo,

As that is in our Church you know.

Beſs asking, What there might be done in’t?

John ſaid, Twas built to look upon it,

And that the Schollards might at lieſure,

Sit there, and ſmoke, and take their pleaſure.

Says Tom, Thoſe who ſit higher up,

I warr’ntee care not much to ſmoke.

And ſo――ay ſo, ſays John, (ſays he,)

For them they built the Gallery; That they the better might look up, And mind the Babies at the top, And E3r 29 And to ſay truth, Tom, I had rather, See that, then ſmoke a month together; So, when I paid, I ask’d the Woman, Which was the next place to go to, mun; She ask’d me, if I ever was, Oh! ſuch a develiſh Name it has, The Laboratory Theſe ugly hard words vex me more, then―― ――Well, ſay it is at the next dore then; And there it is, ſhe ſays, ſhe’s ſure, There is a world of fine things more, But that the baſter’d was not willing, To let me in under a Shilling, I swear, I would have given a Groat, To pleaſe my mind, with all my heart; But ’cauſe the plaguy Dog was craſs, I turn’d, and bid’en kiſs mine A----; But being pretty late, and ſo, And I not knowing where to go, So, I went home, and went to bed, And ſnor’d till morning, like one dead; Well, up I gets, and having quaff’d, A two quarts mug, my morning Draught; I had E3v 30 I had a ſwinging mind to go, And hear the Organs you muſt know: And Land-lord ſaid, as one might hear ’um, At Chriſt-Church, which was pretty near one, Who e’re knows Oxford, ’tis not far, My Horſe being ſet up at the Star.

I thought I’de as good ſlip o’re one day,

Look ye, becauſe this ſame was Sunday;

For my ſhare, I was loth to chooſe,

That day to go a ſeeking Shows.

But, going down to Queens, to ſee

If my Young Maſter well might be;

And paſſing over Carryfox, Carfax.

Which is the Market-place of Ox----

Ford, where two little Pigmys ſtands,

Such nimble-twiches of their Hands;

Juſt o’re the place where Folks ſell Butter,

And with two Hammers keep a clutter;

It being their buſineſs (ſo belike,)

To knock, when e’re the Clock ſhall ſtrike,

A E4r 31

A Bell, that’s hung ye ſo between,

That ſo, they might beſure to ſee’n;

Alive, ſure as a band, a band is,

With Heads no bigger then ones hand is,

As long――lets ſee, if I can tell now,――

About as long as from my Elbow,

Elſabeth ſaid, She met a Fairy

One morning early in the Dairy:

Cries John, juſt ſuch a one ’twas Betty,

Such Folks I vow are very pretty.

Why, I’ve ſeen too New-Colledge mount,

And ſtood ye a good while upon’t;

And Maudling walks, and Chriſt-Church Fountain,

A thing that makes a mighty ſprounting:

Well, Monday comes, and hardly neither,

Before Day-break I hies me thither;

But I found out by Peoples ſaying,

Theſe Organs would not yet be playing.

And that I might go home again,

And come and hear ’um juſt at Ten;

By then the Bells had all done ringing,

The Folks were come, and ſet a ſinging,

There’s E4v 32

There’s ſome are fat, and ſome are lean,

And ſome are Boys and ſome are Men,

But what I’me ſure will make you ſtare,

They all ſtand in their Shirts ſurplice. I ſwear;

Here Suſan bluſh’d, and John beseeches,

To tell, if theſe all wore no Breeches.

Cries John, that one can hardly know,

They wear their Linnen things ſo low;

Each one when they come in, ſtand ſtill,

Bowing, and wrigling at the Sill;

I look’d a while, and mark’d one Noddy,

Something The Altar he bow’d to, but no Body,

For theſe and other things as apiſh,

The Town-folks term the Scollards Papiſh;

The Organs ſet up with a ding,

The White-men roar, and White-boys ſing,

Rum, Rum, the Organs go, and zlid,

Sometimes they ſqueek out like a Pig,

Then gobble like a Turky Hen,

And then to Rum, Rum, Rum again:

What with the Organs, Men, and Boys,

It makes ye up a diſmal Noiſe;

All F1r 33

All being over as I wiſs,

Out come then like a Flock of Geeſe.

The place as I went in at, there

A kind of Yat-houſe, as it were;

A top of which a Bell is hung,

Bigger than e’re was look’d upon,

I underſtood by all the People,

’Twas bigger than our Church and Steeple;

At Nine at night, it makes a Bomeing,

And then the Scollards all muſt come in.

Now I’ve told all that e’re I ſee,

Unleſs the brazen Noſe it be,

Clapt on a College Yat to grace it,

And ſhew, may hap, they’re brazen Faced;

And there’s another thing I think on,

The Devil looking over Lincoln;

Their Faults beſure, he kindly winks on,

Tho other Colleges he ſquints on;

F A F1v 34

A world of pity, ’twas, I ſwear,

That our Young Maſter was not there.

Beſs willing, yet to be more knowing,

Demands what Clothes Schollars go in?

For the mosſt part (ſays John,) they wear

Such kind of Gowns as Parſons are;

Some Trenchers on their Heads have got,

As black as yonder Porridge-Pot;

And ſome have things, exactly ſuch

As my Old Gammers mumbles Pouch,

Which ſits upon his Head as neat,

As ’twere ſew’d to’t by e’ry Pleat:

Some I dare ſay, are very poor, tho

They wear their Gowns berent and tore ſo,

Hanging about them all in Littocks,

That they can hardly hide their Buttocks.

When they want Mony, I believes,

The Luds are fain to ſell their Sleeves,

Becauſe they have theur ſtunt of Victuals,

And that I’me ſure, but very little’s;

For F2r 35

For look ye, many a time I meet,

May happen twenty in the Street,

With handſome Gowns to look upon,

And ne’r a Sleeve to all their Gowns.

You know Young Maſter for a Meater,

Was for his Years a handſome Eater;

Well, and his Sleeves are gone already,

And his was a New Gown too, Betty,

And hangs about his Legs in ſhatters,

I ſwear, ’has torn it all to tatters.

I held a jag aloft, to ſhew’n,

And bid’n let the Taylor ſew’n.

Hoa laught, and cry’d, Why, that’s no fault John

Hoa tor’t, to paſs ye for a Saltman; Senior.

But I have ſometimes met with ſome

Young Men, may chance with a whole Gown,

Holding ’um out as if they’d dry ’um,

So that one hardly can get by ’um.

Cry’d Tom, So drunk they could not miſs ’um,

What naſty Dogs they’re to be-piſs ’um.

Cry’d John, No, while they have a Gown,

They make uſe of their time to ſhew’n.

F2 Now F2v 36

Now you have all, let’s go to Bed,

I well’y long to lay my Head:

And John that motion made, becauſe

Their Eyes by this time all drew Straws;

All thank him round, Sue, Bess, and Tom,

And went to Rooſt all ev’ry one.

Now John has done his Banbury Story,

With no ſmall Pride or little Glory,

Beſide a luſty Toſt and Ale,

As ſoon as he had done his Tale,

Which Tale, if you too ſoon forget it,

I vow, I ſhould be ſtrangely fretted;

I ſhould not ſtand ſo much upon it,

But that my Tale depends ſo on it;

That if this John ſhould be left out,

I know not how to bring’t about:

Alas! I ſhould be very willing,

To give full fourty round broad Shilling,

To tell a Tale as well as he,

And purchaſe ſuch a Memory;

But F3r 37

But ’cauſe I’de have you think me honeſt,

I ſhall go back, ſo as I promis’d.

I think I brought them up to Town,

And ſtaid till all their Coin was gone:

Their Needs by this time has bereft ’um,

Of the bare ſcent on’t, all I let ’um;

By this time, Maſter has forgot,

His Mothers Sweet-meats for a Pot,

And the Pack-rider (ſuch another,)

Loves a Girl better than his Mother,

Being much of a Faculty,

In general, they much agree,

To ſcrub all day, a Nut-brown Table,

With all the might, as they are able;

From hence it is, that ſome poor Fellows

Have ſo thin Cloathing at their Elbows.

In this Opinion I am bold,

Becauſe the Reason is two-fold.

For here they ſpend their Wits and Coin too,

In getting nothing, ſpend their time too;

And F3v 38

And tho, they take ſo much Delight

To make their Landlord’s Table bright,

And wear their Gowns and Elbows out,

In labouring to bring’t about;

Seldom their Hoſteſs ſo befriends ’um,

To mend, or pay the Man that mends ’um.

Now what will Mothers Hony do,

Depriv’d of Cloaths and Mony too;

But ſend by Baſſet, Carriers. or John Hickman,

A Line, to make his Friends more quick Man,

That he’s in a moſt sad Condition,

Worſe I believe, than Nick could wiſh him,

And that he wants more Mony, ſo

He knows not what i’th world to do;

Hopes they’re well, as at this ſending

He is, and ſo he falls to ending.

Now if his Friends are poor, or witty

Enough to fain they’re ſo, or Nitty, Cloſe-Fiſted.

For want of Mony, to ſay truth,

Moſt an end makes a hopeful Youth:

But thoſe who count by Pocket-fulls,

Empt them together with their Sculls,

To F4r 39

To a Hat-full of Head, ’tis fair,

If Brains a Thimble-full be there,

Enough to practice by a Sample,

How they may paſs for Schollars ample;

In ſpight of vacant Heads, and Hours,

Half Gowns are always Seniours,

So halv’d and jag’d, if needs you’l know,

If Senior Soph ’has Gown or no;

Looking on’s Shoulders, and no lower,

Perhaps it may be in your power.

When they’ve been there about a Quarter,

Say half a Year, or ſuch a matter,

Their Friends think it more orderly

To ſend their Mony quarterly;

By this time, they have more occaſion

For Ready, than the poor o’th Nation,

Thinking they better know the uſe on’t,

A Peer o’th Realm is leſs profuſe on’t;

That Week o’th Quarter, as they have it,

He’s damn’d with them who thinks to ſave it:

Now for that neceſſary Trick,

To book, and ſcore, and run a Tick,

For F4v 40

For Gown, and Cap, for Drink, and Smoke,

And ſo much more for Ink, and Chalk;

Five pound a Coat,――Ink Five more――Ten,

Six Bottles,――Chalk as much agen;

A Glaſs broke, Six pence――ſo much more,

Becauſe ’twas put upon the Score.

And at this rate the Coxcombs run

Their Daddies out of Houſe and Home;

Thoſe that in Debt, the leaſt may be,

Perhaps owe Hundreds two, or three,

Till fallen downright ſick of Duns,

Keeps Chamber, till the Carrier comes;

The ready Mony, when they ſend it,

He muſt upon his Miſtreſs ſpend it;

And ſo that very Night he runs

To honeſt Joan of Hed----tons,

Who brags ſhe has been a Beginner

With many an after-harden’d Sinner;

As to a Book an Introduction’s

To Vice, ſo ſhe, and her Inſtruction’s;

And ſince the Doctrine of her School’s

Practis’d, and follow’d ſo by Fool’s,

For G1r 41

For pray, in all our Modern Hiſt’ries,

Look me a Fool without a Miſtriſs.

Whoſe part’s to ſet the Gins, and bait ’um,

And the ſnard Ideots part, to treat ’um,

So Schollars, who do all by Rules,

without Example, won’t be Fools,

And dedicate their ready Monies,

To pleaſe, and to divert their Honies;

Not, that they’re given all to whoreing,

Some are for honeſt downright roaring;

And quite another ſort of Fellows,

Love nothing but a noiſe, and Ale-Houſe:

I would not have you here miſtake me;

I know not how, ’tis you may take me,

Ne’re think think theſe Youngſters, by their looks,

Will mate their Heads, with ſilly Books:

Which a Cann-Lover minds no more,

Then he that loves an ugly Whore,

Being none but Ugly in the Town,

Since one Mal’s dead, and t’other gone;

The Lads content are in their Room,

To Court a Moppſtick, or a Broom,

G Dreſt G1v 42

Dreſt in a Night-Rail, and a Sette,

Dear Nancy call it, and their Betty,

But then, he makes a hideous quarter,

If once ammomer’d on’s Taylors Daughter;

You may then, at the ſame Church ſee him,

Which Father, Mother, has, and ſhe in

Coming out, down he vales his Bonnet,

And next day pelts her with a Sonnet;

But if ſhe ſtubborn chance to prove,

He makes a Changeling of his Love,

And in a ſtrange Poetick Ire,

Grows very Smutty, very dire,

As ſharp as may be, to ſay truth,

Seeing his Muſe had ne’re a Tooth;

And heretofore, ’twas no great matter,

For Teeth to any private Satyr;

But now let each look to his Brawls,

And not refer’t to Generals;

Since now, there wants a publick Prater,

To raiſe the Hiſs, or Hum oth’ Theater,

Such as we took for Owls, and no Men,

Who knew not how t’ abuſe the Women,

Twas G2r 43

Twas then, no more, but let ſome Lad,

Highly diſturb’d, and Vengeance mad,

Where the Girl gave juſt cauſe, or no,

Let him, to Terræ Filius go:

Twas he, knew how to mak’t appear,

As true, as you alive ſtand there,

Wife Sparks, and bold, who durſt to tell them,

Their Faults, who could, and did expell them.

But theſe mad whipſters, have given o’re now,

And laſh theſe, and the Town no more now.

The Act, a time they did all this at,

Is ſtill a time as much to hiſs at,

At which time, when ſo e’re it comes,

Wiſe Men of Gotham, change their Gowns,

Which is a kind of Term, d’ee ſee,

I uſe for taking a Degree.

Having had other things to follow,

They pray their Chum, or Chamber-Fellow,

To help them out to ſay their part,

For want of time to get’t by heart;

For here the Miſery of it lies,

When they’re oblig’d to exerciſe,

G2 Which G2v 44

Which is, e’re they take a Degree,

Some Fellow, or what e’re he be;

Asks him if things be ſo, or ſo,

To which he anſwers ay, or no,

And if he happens to ſay right,

He gets ye his Degree, in spight

Of Louſie Learning, to which end,

Some better Scholar, and his Friend,

H’intreats, becauſe he would not miſs,

To hold his Finger up at Yes;

And when his turn comes to ſay no,

To do his finger ſo, or ſo.

And now no queſtion, but you’l ask

How ’tis, they ſo neglect their Task,

Folks can’t do all at once, for look, Sir,

They’ve more to do, than con a Book, ſure,

For Sundays work, it very fare is,

To ſee, who preaches at St. Maries,

Peep in at Carfax Church, to ſee there,

Either who preaches, or what ſhe there:

Then G3r 45

Then, as if troubled with the Squitters,

Away they feque it to, St. Peters,

When up into the Chancel coming,

Which moſt an end is full of Women,

About they ſtrut a while, and ſeek out,

And one vouchſafe at laſt, to pick out,

Or cry; pox, ne’re a handſome Woman:

And Preacher being in Prayer Common;

They can’t a while ſo long to ſtay,

To ſee who Preaches there to day:

So, in their way down to St. Giles,

For more diſpatch, they take St. Miles,

’Cauſe they’re oblig’d, e’re Church be done,

To thruſt their Noſe in every one;

Which makes them run, and-ſweat, and Blurry,

And puts them in the deadlieſt hurry,

For ’tis you know, a Common ſaying,

Buſineſs admits of no delaying.


When coming to the Quaker’s Meeting,

Where ſome are ſtanding, ſome are ſitting,

Eyes G3v 46

Eyes ſhut, with open Mouths, ſome lunging,

Amidſt the Brother-hood, they ſcrunge in,

Approaching of a handſome Siſter,

With her Eyes cloſed, make bold to kiſs her;

Which mov’d her Spouſe, but never mov’d her,

Taking him for a Friend that lov’d her;

But her Friend John, ſuppos’d that he,

Beſtow’d no Kiſs of Charity;

Which made his Gutts for madneſs, wamble,

Friend (ſays he) giving him a jumble,

Do thou, I ſay, let her alone,

Or elſe, ’twere better thou wert gone;

Do ſo, in thy own Steeple-Houſe,

And not in other Peoples Houſe.

To which the Schollar anſwers, rat it,

What makes the Fellow ſo mad at it.

He wonders what the Quaker thinks on’t,

’Twas done to her, and ſtill ſhe winks on’t.

But Quack ſlips out to tell the Procter,

How Schollars kiſt his Wife, and mock’d her;

At G4r 47

At our Aſſembly, hard by here,

The Young Men ſtill (I’me ſure) are there;

So I made haſte to come to thee,

That though might’ſt come thy ſelf and ſee:

Since ’tis thy buſineſs to protect ’um,

Prithee do thou therefore correct ’um.

After this Speech the Proctor coming,

Sets all the Crew of Royſters running,

And upon all he lays his Hands,

He either takes them or their Gowns;

And he’s glad on’t with all his heart,

Who gets off with his Gown in part,

Not being a thing accounted ſhameful,

To have’s Gown leſſen’d by a handful,

Since all the puniſhment and ſhame

Light’s only on the Fools, are ta’ne;

Like Birds, put in a Cage to whiſle,

Unleſs they patch up an Epiſtle,

Monday. To’th Proctor, for which he looks,

Beſure in every one, one’s Books,

Fills his Head, full as ere’t can hold,

Becauſe e’re long they muſt be ſold;

Thrum- G4v 48

Thrumming out ſeveral ſcraps of Latin,

As like as Dowlas is to Satin:

And expeditious way, and better

Then make of his own head, a Letter,

Or wanting Books to tumble o’re,

He gets a Letter made before;

Hackney Epiſtle to the College,

For thoſe who have but little knowledge;

No ſooner this the Proctor ſees,

But his offence he ſtrait forgives,

For joy of which, he roars moſt deadly,

And ſails that afternoon to medly,

Near half a mile, or ſuch a matter,

It lyes as you go down the Water;

A place at which they never fail,

Of Cuſtard, Cyder, Cakes, and Ale,

Cream, Tarts, and Cheeſe-Cakes, good Neats Tongues,

And pretty Girls to wait upon’s.

Schollars by right in ſtudying Hours,

Or ſhould not late be out of Doors,

But H1r 49

But having found with how much eaſe,

At worſt the Proctor they appeaſe,

And long e’re this, and for the future,

Knowing how to ſatiſfy their Tutor.

Some Country Stranger, or a Brother,

Some Friend Relation or another,

Being come to Town only to ſtare,

Will be a Week or Fortnight here;

And he can do no leſs, than go

Sometimes to wait on him, or ſo,

Treat him, go with him up and down,

At leaſt, and ſhew him all the Town:

That he at home might tell a Story,

O’th Theatre and Labo’ratory.

And ever when one Strangers gone,

Beſure they’l have another come;

And then you know, it would be evil,

If they to Strangers be uncivil;

And then ſometimes their Father ſends,

Or elſe ſome other of their Friends,

(They ſay,) a Letter of Attorney,

Praying them to take a little Journey,

H To H1v 50

To ſuch a Town near two hours going,

To take ſome Money they have owing;

The Poſtſcript runs, Dear Son or Cozen,

Make haſte to go, or elſe you’l loſ’en.

When Tueſday comes, he’s up by Noon,

Leaſt Douſon’s dancing ſhould be done,

’Cauſe he’d be there, he very fairly

Forſakes his Bed ſo very early.

Tho he ſate up the Night before,

To ſmoke his Bed---mat, for the Dore

By Nine, is always ſo faſt ſhut,

That no Soul living can get out.

As for Tobacco he’d forgot it,

Tho e’ry Night he us’t to ſot it,

And ſo was fain to do as a’ could,

Becauſe he cou’d not do as he would.

And truth, they care not one ſhould know it,

But they’re as poor as any Poet:

Fortune, that Enemy to ſenſe is,

She makes Fools poor for bare Pretences.

And H2r 51

And tho to ſmoke they’re ſo Delighted,

They want wherewith to Pot and Pipe it,

And ſo all Night, They and their Chums,

Sit whiffing Straws till morning comes;

And then betake them to their Beds,

And lye till Four to eaſe their Heads:

But being oblig’d to come to Prayers,

Whipping the Surplice o’re their Ears;

At Six ſome places, ſome at Ten,

To Prayers, that done, to Bed again.


Wedneſday being come ſix Hours ago,

He’s up, and ſay, he’s ready too;

Forſooth, he roſe that day ſo rare,

Becauſe he’d take the Country Air.

Perhaps ſome Fools riſe more betimes,

And meet with but unwholeſome Rimes,

Which for the World they would not go in,

From Letters Schollars are ſo knowing;

Now for their way of going a ſhooting,

Sometimes a Horſe-back, ſometimes Footing:

H2 Approach- H2v 52

Approaching ſome Lone Houſe, or Cottage,

Reaking with Bacon, Herbs, and Pottage,

Ne’re knock, but baul out, Who’s within there?――

Who’s there?――two or three come to dine here.

Then Jenny coming out in Kerſey,

Makes to the Gentle Folks a Curſey;

Her Mother calling from within,

Jane, bid the Gentlefolk come in;

In they come, Welcome by her Troth,

Who freely sets them all ſhe hath;

Glad in their hearts, that Folks ſo brave,

Will pleaſe to eat all they have.

Can you eat in a homely Tray?

You’re welcome all as I may ſay.

They’ve done, but having other Butts,

Beſide the ſtuffing of their Gutts.

Jane going for to’ther Pot of Ale,

They ſeldom of a flitching fail;

The Mother ſometimes going after,

To wring the Tap in for her Daughter,

The while they get it from the rack,

And take their leaves when ſhe comes back,

The H3r 53

The good Wife vexing, can’t but think,

’Tis ſtrange they would not ſtay, and drink!

But then ſhe’s in a woful taking,

When once ſhe comes to miſs her Bacon.

But ſhe’s in as much woe agen,

For loſing of her ſpeckled Hen;

The Scholars, as for their parts, they

Go home rejoicing in their Pray;

And at the very next Farmers door,

Shoot two or three Ducks, and Pullets more;

Thus being provided of good Victles,

Their next care is to wet their Whiſles,

Contriving where ’twere beſt to ſeat ’um,

And of the beſt way to defeat ’um;

Becauſe as I before was ſaying,

They’ve bitterly againſt all Paying;

So having call’d for what they will,

And yauld, and ſung, and drunk their fill;

Going forth as to untruſs a Point,

They run their Legs near out of Joint,

’Till they have reached the Town agen,

And ſome ſuch other bouzing Ken, Ale-houſe.

Playing H3v 54

Playing a world of pretty Knacks,

As oft as People turn their backs,

Melt the Folks Flagons, burn their Bellows,

Then ſear a loft their Names ’ith’ Ale-houſe.

And in their Breeches put their Candles,

The Snuffers and the Flaggon handles.


Next Morning raging Hoſteſs comes

To’s Chamber door with other Duns:

There’s ſuch a din and such a drumming,

As if the King of France was coming:

As if their Buſineſs were to keep him

And all the College too from ſleeping.

Then ſometimes hold their hands for cunning,

And lend an ear to hear him coming;

Becauſe if he ſhould think them gone,

He would peep out twenty to one.

Their patience tir’d, to’t they go,

Ran dan, tara ran, clutter to quo.

Are you within, Sir, Mr. Snear――

Yes that he is, and knows who’s there,

Knows H4r 55

Knows all your Voices, great and ſmall,

And to the Devil ſends ye all.


Caſting an Eye, firſt thro’ a Chink,

One of his Neighbors fitting think,

To open gingerly the door,

Becauſe he is not very ſure,

But that ſome Ambuſcade might fire,

Before the neatly could retire,

Having by this judicious care,

Perceiv’d the Coaſt all round him clear,

That every individual Dun,

His Neighbours are, and not his own;

He with a Noble Courage ſpeaks,

And to them thus his mind he breaks,

Sirs, if you’d ſpeak with Mr. Snear,

You muſt not think to find him there;

He went abroad Three hours ago,

And goes out ev’ry morning ſo;

But Sir, tho now he b’en’t within,

Pray when, de’e think, he will come in?

When H4v 56

When he goes out by three or four,

He comes not in ’till ten, or more:

Because his buſineſs will not let him,

I wonder that you never met him:

If with him you’d ſo fain a’ ſpoken,

Youſhould come e’re the Gates are open.

They thank him for his gracious Speeches,

And then toward him turn their Breeches,

Going their ways, tak’t for a warning,

To come more early the next Morning.

Now Snear releas’d thus of his Cares,

Tells all his Duns down all the ſtairs.

Before he’s very ſure he’s ſafe,

He dare not wry his Mouth to laugh.

Truely, there comes a deal of good,

From Fellowfeeling Neighborhood!

T’other comes to Congratulate,

With him the goodneſs of his Fate,

Who thro’ the Key-hole looks to ſee him,

And asks if there no more be we’him,

Aſſur’d I1r 57

Aſſur’d he’s Solus, to be ſhort,

Comes boldly out, and thanks him for’t.

But now it being dinner time,

They venture to the Hall to dine,

Where Baxter, one that lets out Horſes,

Comes, hoping to repair his Loſſes;

And being wiſer than the reſt,

Thinks there to find his Debters beſt,

Who mind their Cramming, but not ſo,

But they’ve an Eye for ſuch a Foe,

Contriving, Dinner done, to tumble

Together, all out in a Bundle;

Deceiving thus his Vigilance;

Who to repair this great miſchance,

Setting up’s Throat, begins to hollow it,

Sir, Sir, why Sir, there, Mr. Shallow-wit;

But as for Mr. Shallow-wit, he

Has more wit, than to hear or ſee,

So in the Crow’d, away he goes,

And nothing of the matter knows:

I Creditor I1v 58

Creditor doubts if that might be him,

Or elſe concludes he did not ſee him;

And ſince ’tis ſo the bubbl’d Dun,

Contented as he can, goes home.

Twere to be wonder’d why the Townſ-men,

Have ſo much foolish Faith for Gownſ-men,

But here the Myſtery of it lies,

Theſe ſeeming Fools, are truly wiſe,

For if they can by all their comings

To Hall, and Chambers, all their dunnings,

Their horrid threats, that for the future,

They’l come no more, but tell their Tutor.

Or of ſome piece of Merriment,

To tell the Head, or Preſident.

If by these Arts he clears one ſcore,

He can ſuſtain the loſs of four:

And he that to be honeſt chooſes;

In paying, pays him all he looſes.

So that the Trader might afford it,

To loſe the reſt, and never word it;

But I2r 9559

But that your Merchants ever love,

Something to gain o’re and above.

Always when once ’tis Afternoon,

Duns with the Colleges have done;

And Scholars looking well about,

With caution, venture to go out;

For many times it happens ſo’s,

I’th’ very face to meet their Foes:

With Sir, you know you owe me, for

Maintaining of your Spotted Cur;

I’me ſure, I bought him as good Meat,

As any Christian, Sir, could eat:

If there’s in Man any Belief,

I always fed the Whelp with Beef;

A deal of Money, I diſburſt ſo,

And Money going out of Purſe ſo――

I’de ask’d your Tutor, but to ſtay me,

You ſaid, that you’d next Quarter pay me,

’Las I’me a poor Man, that you know,

And yet you’l never pay me too.

I2 The I2v 60

The Sparks ſo thunder-ſtruck at this,

He hardly can tell what he is,

Proteſts to Harry he is willing

To pay, bids him, here, take that ſhilling,

Being all he has now in his Pocket,

As for his Cheſt he can’t unlock it,

Because he has either ſpoil’d his Key,

Loſt it, or laid it out o’th’ way;

And ſays, when e’re he comes for the reſt,

He’ll pay him, or he’ll break his Cheſt.

Theſe words give Harry Satisfaction

Beyonde th’event, or threaten’d Action;

Who fancies in this Cheſt a Mint,

When there is ne’re a penny in’t.

Therefore to ſhun ſuch Brunts as theſe,

Scholars in walking croſs the Ways,

Ne’re grutching Shoo-leather, or ground,

For more convenience circle round,

And many times ſet up a running,

And all for fear of Duns, and dunning;

Let I3r 61

Let their Walk for Example this be,

To Weavers School, from Corpus Chriſti:

Thro’ Chriſt-Church, Penny-farthing Street,

Where there lives none he fears to meet;

His way down by St. Thomas lyes,

And ſo he ſlips by Paradice,

And falls to running there from going,

Leaſt any ſhould come out as know him,

Becauſe he owes them for his Cuſtard,

Nor paid yet for his Tongue, and Muſtard,

Tho once being took, he made a promiſe.

From Caſtle-Bridge, up from St. Thomas:

Thro Bullocks-Lane, unſight, unſeen,

He’s like a ſpright in Glouſter-Green,

From thence he goes out by St. Giles’s,

And thro the Fields which near a mile is,

Yet by then twenty you could tell,

He’s arriv’d ſafe in Holy-well;

And when you’re come about the middle,

You may know Weavers by the Fiddle;

A Boarding, and a Dancing School,

Where People learn to go by Rule,

And I3v 62

And ’tis high time he there ſhould be,

It being ſomething now paſt Three;

To be there’s, of concern as much

To him, as going is to Church,

Going to ſee, more than to hear,

The very ſame as he does there;

Dancing being done, and Dangers paſt,

He get’s to’s College ſafe at laſt:

He might by much a nearer way found,

That is, by Maudlins, and the Grey-hound,

And miſt the Town as well; but there’s

So deeply plung’d o’re head and ears,

The very Signs enough to fright him,

Leaſt the curſt Dog in it might bite him.

Next day, when all the Houſe is ſnoring,

Beſure his Duns are up before him,

As if their Souls made up one Song,

The Stairs as by Agreement throng,

And ſo harmoniouſly each one

Raps at his Door as in his turn;

Tho I4r 63

Tho’ met; but one of all thoſe Fools there,

Knows what the benefit of Shools are;

He was that one, who ſure as can be,

Miſſing a Bottle of lovely Brandy,

And being in a world of Dolour,

And finding out this worthy Schollar;

Both too alone, for only ſaying,

That he deſir’d that he would pay him;

Threatened for Payment was with Pumping,

And put to ſave himſelf by jumping

O’re a Wall, might break his Neck,

To keep his Back from being wet.

Tis ſo unſafe for any Dun,

To ’accoſt a Schollar all alone;

At many, tho he looks ſo leering,

He’ll make a ſingle one to fear him:

As I before ſaid, I ſay here,

’Tis well they are enow for Snear,

Beating his Door, they keep him waking,

And ſpoil his Peace, as well as Napping.

Here I4v 64

Here was his Shoe-Maker, and Taylor,

His fiery Hoſteſs, Mrs. Rayler;

And Drawers ſhaking off their Noddles,

For looſing of their Wine and Bottles;

And a kind Girl beſide, who had

Made him a Twelve-month ſince a Dad;

Good reaſon why ſhe came to ſeek him,

For ſomething towards the Infants keeping,

Among the Crowd for Payment whining,

was ſhe that us’d to make his Linnen;

Where grumbling an Old Gardner ſtood,

Who loſt his Hedge for Fire-wood:

Beſide his Rake, his Hoe, and Shovel,

And half the Faggots off his Hovel;

And Country-men, amidſt all theſe,

For looſing Turkeys, Hens, and Geeſe;

Mercury was there, who on the wing, goes

To make him pay for’s Ladies Windows;

And in his hand he bore a Ticket,

Demanding reaſon why he brake it?

His Laundreſs having all his Linnen,

Need never Dun, or go to Spinning,

Waſhing, K1r 65

Waſhing, because he’s fain to pay for’t,

He ſeldom wears but half a Day-Shirt,

At firſt ſhe’l chop, and change, and chooſe ’um,

And dextrouſly at laſt ſhe’l looſe ’um,

Nor by this moſt ingenious way,

Can hardly get up half her pay;

His Bedmaker whilſt at the Ale-houſe,

For Pay can ſeize his Bed and Pillows,

And for that Reaſon is more cunning,

Then to bestow the pains to dun him.


The Dunners having hinted been,

That Mr. Snear was now within,

Were fully bent for very ſpight,

To ſtand all at his Door till Night,

And by ſo cloſe a Siege go nye they,

To make him truly faſt his Friday;

No longer able to ſuſtain it,

No more than’s Father to maintain it:

Snear vows to morrow he’l be going,

From all the Noiſe of Mony owing;

K For K1v 66

For Schollarſhip he here foreſwears it,

And takes his tatter’d Gown, and tares it.


And now his reſtleſs Duns are gone,

He takes farewell of the Town,

Meeting at Midnight with the Procter,

With leſs concern then if a Doctor,

Not only very boldly meets him,

But to return his Queſtion, beats him;

Which having done, as faſt he runs,

As when he us’d to meet his Duns:

And in his Flight, breaking his Shin, now’s

Fully reveng’d on the next Windows;

In which Sport when his hand is in,

He lays about like any thing,

Roaring, and hallowing down the Streets,

Swears to knock down the next he meets.

Wallowing all Night in ſuch Abuſes,

Nor ſtudies for next days Excuſes,

Knowing he ſhall complete his Sport

At home, or at the Inns of Court,

’Cauſe K2r 67

’Cause I’me not willing to ſuppoſe here,

Our Teachers ever ſuch as thoſe were.

The Day now coming on a new,

Wherein he bids the Town adieu,

Having no encouragement to tarry here,

Sends for his Wardrobe by the Carrier.

Now free at liberty and peace is,

Secure, unask’d, goes where he pleaſes,

Here cruel Duns, nor fear’d expulſion,

Can ſhake his Soul to a Convulſiton,

Bearing the Learning off, he’s free

From all the Plagues o’th ’Verſity.


No Cæsars loſs lamented more yet,

Then where he us’d to book and ſcore it;

The Tears of Mothers and of Duns,

Hers for loſt Children, theirs for Sums,

More unconſtrain’d are, and true,

Then thoſe I ſhed in this Adieu.