THE Irish Hudibras.
(a) O
Hone! O Hone! And so the Bore
Weigh'd Anchor to Infernal Shore;
For on the Earth there was no space,
T'allow the Prince a Baiting-place.
The trembling
Bogs shook with the weight,
The murm'ring
Floods bewail'd his flight;
Until pursuing fatal doom,
He strook on Coast of
(b)
Inche-Cume:
Inche-Colm in Lough Erin,
the Passage to St. Patrick
's Purgatory!
Where having scap'd another Rattle,
He
(c) bound his Fleet with Twists of
Wattle:
[Page 2]Obsequious Gad
A With.
, that serves insteadOf Cables, Cords, Hemp, Flax, and Thread.
(d) And
Nees no readier way cou'd think on,
To tye their Noses
The Anchor was a Quern, or Milstone, ty'd with a Gad.
to the Grinston:For
Nees's Fleet in Ocean wavy,
Were like his Men, a scampering Navy.
That Navy which no Coast can match,
Nees's Fleet.
Built without charge of Deck or Hatch;
Where each whole chested Man of War,
Scorn'd the Adjuncts of Pitch or Tarr:
Nor did a Plank or Bolt appear,
Or Rudder had where-with to steer;
No Tackling, Rigging, Mast or Sail,
To take th' advantage of a Gale;
Nor Ballast had below the Hold,
But what was pumpt with wooden Bowl:
[Page 3]No Cannons, nor wide-mouth'd Granadoes,
Nees's Fire-balls were boil'd
Pottados:
Pottados still did serve, instead
Of Peash and Bacon, Beef and Bread:
His Magazine.
'Twas all their stock; for they no more,
Or Ammunition had, or Store.
This was that famous Fleet which
Nees,
Like Meddars form'd of the whole piece:
Meddar, which is a pretty Knack,
A deep round foursquare wooden Jack;
An ill-shap'd Trunk of carved Tree,
An uniform Deformity.
The Root their Stools, the Bark their Tables,
The Stock was Ship, and Boughs were Cables;
Digg'd up with Chissels undermining,
Such as
Westphalians feed their Swine in:
A Trunk of a Tree cut hollow.
A drowsie Fleet of sluggish Cots,
Proper to bear such active Sots.
[Page 4]And
Nees was glad when he had got 'em
Each Tubb to sit on its own bottom.
No Bark, no Boat was to be found,
Shou'd
Nees have giv'n a thousand pound;
The Scotch
had burnt them.
Which is the cause old Story tells,
They were a Fleet of Cockle-shells,
Sent from the Lady of
Lorett,
To waft him o're in spight of Fate.
(e)The
Dear-Joys rockt in Cot, like Cradle,
Some on an Oar, some on a Paddle,
Leapt to the shore a Crew of Swingers,
Ready almost to eat their Fingers,
For very hunger post away,
Tag-Rag and Long-Tail for his prey;
Some to the Bogs, some run a madding,
And some unto the Woods a gadding;
[Page 5]Some with the Flint and Steel assayl,
To fire the Funk upon his Nail;
Some Houses burn, some burn Tobac.
Some of their Deeds, some Vermin crack;
Some to the Ale-house run, and throng
To
Chanuska.
water Head with
Buye oge. To fetch Water in a wooden Can.
yellow Young;And after long and tedious ranging,
By help of Mathematick Engine,
A Setting-pole the cunning Rogues
Brought from the Fleet to leap the Bogs:
Which Nature purpos'd for their Palats;
Three-leav'd-grass.
Shamrogs and
Watergrass he shows,Which was both Meat, and Drink, and Close.
(g) But
Nees, more Zealous than the rest,
A Church erected by St. Patrick,
in Lough E
[...]n,
through which they descended in
[...]o St Patrick
's Purgatory. Annals of Ireland.
Was of St.
Patrick's Church in quest;
[Page 6]Which, if you credit antient Story,
Is the high Road to
Purgatory.
Scarce had he sneez'd, when he begun
To scrape Acquaintance with a Nun:
Shela, for that's the Name they give her,
For a close
Bawd, and wicked Liver,
Thô some did call her
Sara.
Sau, some
Ann.
Aina,Most for her Beauty call'd her
Ugly.
Graina.So sly and exquisit a Witch she,
Nature nere form'd so true a
Gypsie:
For she was skill'd in all their Wisdom,
Cou'd unto any Man read His Doom;
Or hang'd by Sea, or drown'd by Land
Cou'd do the business to your hand;
And by her skill in
Palmestry,
Wou'd tell you what should never be:
In Peace or War, when Ruins threaten,
Guess by the Victor, who was beaten:
[Page 7]And tell by th' parting of the Fray,
Who Kept the Field, who ran away.
This Flibber-gib
Nees did importune,
That he, forsooth, might know his Fortune;
Who for a Bribe to bring her Grist,
Cram'd a whole handful in her fist:
Lanedurne.
She willing to attend his
Grace,
Mander'd not long, but in a space
Tuck't up her Drab, through Marshes slabby,
Both posting to St.
Patrick's
Abby.
(h) Now enter they the Boggs, and go
Through golden Roofs of yellow Straw:
From Bog to Wood, each Shrub they pass,
Dropping an
Ave, and a
Mass.
Ave-Maria.
(i) But when they had approach'd the Door;
Says
Shela, Nees, Be sure, be sure,
And all thy Roguery confess;
Prepare thy
Pater-Noster.
Padreen, and thy
Ryme,For we are come in Pudding-time.
With that to'th' Gate his Grace adventur'd,
Which
Shela, without knocking, enter'd;
And though they were in
Limbo pent,
Without a word of Complement,
They raise the
Hub-bub-boo,
Irish Cry.
and cry,
(k) Saint
Patrick, Patrick, my Dear Joy!
When strait the Abbess chang'd her hue:
And all her Carrets turn'd to blue;
Her Hair, like finer Hempen-thread,
Stood all an end upon her Head:
So Mad she grew, and so Uncivil,
You'd think her turn'd into a Devil.
[Page 9]But when the Spirit was more strong
Within the Carcas of the Nun;
She fell on
Nees like Butter-Whore,
Because poor
Nees could pray no more.
*
Culleen, the Devil take thy Breeding.
Ill chance upon't, hast thou no shame?
Go say thy Beads a Devils name.
Well,
Nees, if thou wilt not give o're
Thy
Irish Tricks. I'le say no more.
(m) And so when she had once begun
To end her Speech, she held her Tongue.
(n) The
Dear Joys strait began to quake,
Stinking for, fear did Buttons make;
From the very bottom of his—
Dee own Cheeld Nees
make his Pray-ere,
Dat never did, or I'm a Teef,
So much before in all mee Leef.
Dear Joy, who sees our woful Case,
Will dou sit still upon dee Ars,
And see dese Dutch
and English
Rogues
Strip off our
Breeches.
Trouses, and our
Shoes.
Brogues:
Possess our
Cabbin, or Irish Hut.
Crates, and dy poor Cheeld Nees,
And
Bore.
Culleens flee, like flocks of Wild-gees.
De Devil take me, now I swear
(Dear Gossop) by mee own Mak-keer
Make hang upon himself indeed.
What though of
Mony.
Ready nere a plack,
Yet many a plugg of good Toback
And not a Turd de better for't:
Ycome like fool, ygo vidout
My skeal, vid finger in my mout;
Since I have seen dy own sweet Face,
I know doul't never be so base.
Derefore God bless it, Oh!
Patrick.
Padeen.
Vill dou take a little for de Queen?
My Dear, my Joy, my
Dear Heart.
Cram-ma-cree,
I'll make much▪ Prayer upon dee;
It's now full teem to give Quar-teer.
Yknows what never is to come;
Grant dat I may but live at home,
And (fate) is Nees
but ask his own;
To be my stay in my own Nation,
Without Exile or Transplantation:
To be restord without Reprisal,
Or Court of
Court of Claims.
Clamper to try Title;
Lest Innocence being question'd,
Poor Nees
shou'd chance to be postpond;
Or come in Rere of Dutch
Debenturers,
Or be kickt out by French
Adventurers.
If we ben't mortgag'd for a Summ,
And there's for Nees
in Ireland
room;
In peace to hold my few A-ceers,
Acres.
And Images of my Fa-deers:
[Page 13]
And had I but one Cow, I tell dee,
In all the World, vidout my Belly,
I'de give is fait, vid all my heart,
T'njoy my Land, or any part;
My
Butter-milk.
Banniclabber and Pottados,
Without these French
and Dutch
Granados.
(u)
And by my Gossops hand, I fate,
I vill an Abby Dedicate
To my Dear Joy, vidout no words,
As big as Monastry of
Town of Swords in Fingaul.
Swords;
And to dy name make
St. Patrick
's Day, the 17th
of March,
the Patron Day of Ireland.
Holy-day,
When all de Monaghans shall play:
Ordain a Statute to be Drunk,
And burn Tobacco free as
† Tinder.
Spunk;
And (fat shall never be forgot)
In Ʋsquebah, St. Patrick'
s Pot;
[Page 14]
To last for never in our Nation,
On pain of Excommunication:
(w)
And unto dee, my precious Whore,
A place to hang up dy Pic-ture.
Much Grace upon dee ugly fash,
Where ev'ry one shall say a Mass;
Where dy Mi-ra-cles shall be sung,
By very ting dat has no tongue.
Only I pray dee now, my Dear,
Let not dy Ars make a
Noise.
Clam-peer;
Lest vid a Fart dou blow it from me,
And put de great Moccage upon me.
Nor let de Vind dy Notes profane,
But sing dyself de sweet
Song.
Cro-naan.
(x) And so at length he brought about▪
An end of praying with his Mout.
And there she drank the Devil and all;
Spewing and pissing as she stood,
To throw him out in height of Flood:
The more she strove to thrust him out,
The more he firk't her Hide about:
So hard he prest, and did so toss her,
That she had hardly time to cross her;
Till in these words the Fiend at once
Did ope her hundred-folded Sconce:
That thou hast many Gantlets run through
By Water; there are still on Land
Far greater Perils, by this hand.
Wars! Wars! ah, bloody
Wars I find it;
Thou wilt (but wish thou'dst never) come
To thy own Country, House, and Home.
The
The River runs through Dublin.
Liffy shall be chang'd to Blood,Besmear'd With Gore, instead of Mud:
So shall the
Brackney, and the
Shanon,
Nor shall great
Scomberg's Tents want Cannon.
Two Rivers.
Thy flying Hosts
Dutch-Troops shall rack 'em,
With Thousand
English Braves to back 'em:
(b) Till thou disarm'd, and brought so poor,
Art forc'd to beg from Door to Door.
(c) And all this mischief, on my Life,
Again through an Imperious
Wife;
And foreign Priests, a Pox take
Them.
'ame,For which poor
Nees must bear the blame.
Be'nt basely Cow'd for one Defeat;
Nor turn, like Coward, Tail upon't,
But march up bolder to the Front.
Humble the Whiggs in
London-derry,
The Forlet
Scot beyond the
Ferry:
From
Edinburrow cross the
Tweed,
And make the Heart of
Europe bleed;
As long as Fortune does not frown;
And Great
Nassaw (who guards the Crown)
With
Scomberg, let our Troops alone;
Nees may be sure the Day's his own.
But one thing more I must declare,
Thou little dreams of, in this War:
The first Relief that's hither blown,
Shall come from
Brest, or
Dunkirk-Town,
[Page 18]With an
Armado, which shall bring
With them an
Abdicated King;
Who to retrieve his sudden Fall,
In hopes of Winning, shall Lose all;
Three Kingdoms quit, to set up
Mass,
And Cronicle himself an —
Shall
Monsieur above
Nees advance,
And
Ireland Intail to
France.
Vell vas dy vont for doing so;
Despair.
Spereen, and an ill Chaunce upon it,
I tought no better voud come on it;
Too vell I knew, by what's not past,
'Twould come unto dis pass at last.
But since no Balsom for this Wound
Is left for Nees
above de ground,
Since here's de Passage to dat Land;
And here is Nees
beg dy Par-doon,
Dat I choos dee for my Gar-soon;
Dat I may pass de black Va-teer,
Once more to see my old Fa-deer;
God.
Good rest his Shoul, and Body too,
Is ly vidin de ground below.
O Hone! fait many a time, I swear,
(g)
Vas carry it on dis Shoul-deer.
If dou believe me, fat I say,
My Bones yfeel it to dis day;
And fate, when he was after dee,
Vas give it charge to come to see:
To make performsh upon his Will.
(h)
Now for de Son, and de Fa-deer,
Conduct me to de black Va-teer.
(i
For dou can do't, for fait dou wou'd not
Be a right Nun, if dou understood not
De next and ready way to Hell,
You Women know dat way too vell:
For I would try, if dat dere be
In Hell for Nees
a Vacancy;
Since Soldering vill do no grace,
To try to get an Evidaunsh-Place:
And I deserve dat favour sure,
As vell as Dermot o Con-noor.
Out-swore de Devil to his face;
Each in his turn, for his Bro-deer;
Why shou'd not I set up a School,
As well as any other Fool?
For I can Swear with Bryan Hains,
O Farrell,
or a Brace of Pains.
What should I talk of
(l) O Theseen,
O Sheil,
or Eustace o Com-meen:
(m)
And fait, I tink, I am as good
A Man, as none of all dat Brood.
(n) Thus said; the Abbess thus begun,
(o)
Nees, thou art thy own Father's Son;
[Page 22]
Teague Mac Lany,
his Grand-father a Butcher, yet descended from the Family of the Kings; whose Genealogy is as follows. Nees
or Enees, Mac Anchees, Mac Cova, Mac Conigal, Mac Mureartagh, Mac Loughlin, Mac Rory, Mac Dermot, Mac Turlogh, Mac Tool, Mac Deul.
I knew thy Father well, that bore thee,And thy own Son And Heir before thee:
Thy Father was a good Man, true;
And, faith, so was thy Mother too.
But hear a little what I say,
(p) The Gate lies open night and day:
To go's, as plain as A, B, C;
But Back's all the Concavity.
The Way thou easily may'st find,
But thou'lt return when th' Devil's blind.
Ʋbboo! (says Nees)
if dat be all,
I'll go, or it shall cost a fall:
It's de Deel's Luck, and if it prove
Worse dere dan it has done above:
For a long Journey he must strain
Too far, vho ne'er returns again.
Ne'er Venture, never Vin; vell, vell,
Shela,
I am resolv'd for Hell.
[Page 23]
Nay, Vench, it is decreed, I must,
And let the Devil do his worst.
If e'er dou catch me (which I scorn)
I' th' Pound, den put me in de Corn.
(q) Nay, Bird, if thou art so hot set,
To throw thy self into the Net;
So mad (said she) to visit Hell,
And cannot see when thou art well:
If thou'dst be damn'd before thy day,
Take a Fool's Counsel first, I say.
Within a Wood, near to this place,
There grows a Bunch of Three-leav'd-grass,
Call'd by the
Clowns.
Boglanders, Shamrogues,A Present for the Queen of
Spirits.
Shoges;Which thou must first be after-fetching;
But all the Cunning's in the Catching.
[Page 24]For if it please the Gods thy Journey,
'Twill come with ease, and not stubborn be;
Else all the World will not be able
To pull it up with a Rope-Cable.
(r But
Nees, while thou art mitching here,
Thou little dreams of thy Pi-peer.
One of thy Crew is gone before thee,
To sound a Charge in Purgatory.
Go Bury him, the Mourners Feast,
And give a
Spologue.
Black Sheep to the Priest;While thou art Feasting with thy Men,
Thou may'st come hither back agen.
Thus said, the Prince pull'd off his
Shoes.
BroguesAnd trudg'd along with his Comrogues;
Sore troubled, thinking whose was his Chance
To fall to this unlucky Mischance.
Do harbour, while they'r on the Way;
One thinking one thing, and the other
Feeding his Maggot with another.
Last, in great Rage (says
Nees,) My Friend,
Vill our Trou-bles ne'er have an end?
Fait dis is a sad Skeal!
Joy.
Arroon!
Saint Patrick
Joy! fat's de rea-soon.
Some Devil sure is in the Weend,
Or else indeed Saint Patrick'
s bleend:
Or is a
Gossiping▪
Coshering, I dare bet;
Ill Chaunce upon't, more Anger yet!
Thus discontented march'd poor
Nees,
Still blaming unkind Destinies:
Then crys, A Pox upon the Quean,
Who, who the Devil she shou'd mean.
At length, within a Mile or two,
They heard the
Irish Hub bub-boo;
[Page 26]Did tear the Woods, and rend the Skies,
With doleful Echo's of their Cries.
Macshane
kill'd.
(t) But when unto the
Strand they came,
Who shou'd they find, but poor
Mac-shane;
(u) Kill'd basely by a sneezing Harper,
Because his Pipes were shrill and sharper.
Thô some, were present at his parting,
Affirm it rather was for Farting.
When with
O Triton he'd compare,
To Sound as good a Point-of-War.
Who for his
Ave's and his
Beads,
When he was dead, did leave three Heads
Of Cattel unto Father
Roger.
Rory,To pray him out of
Purgatory.
Then put they up the
Ʋlster-Shout,
When poor
Macshane was stretched out;
The best that ever blow'd in Peep:
A great Comrogue he was to
Hector,
And top't off many a Coge of Nectar:
That us'd to go about for Masters,
Sometimes for Drink, sometimes for Plasters:
Of Musick-errant, 'tis the fate
Sometimes, to have a broken Pate.
Had he but liv'd that Life till now,
He had been dead seven years ago.
He dead, struck up with Gen'ral
Nees,
As good a Fellow, by this Cheese,
In all his Bouts of Aale and Peer,
And serv'd in place of his Pi-peer,
At
Gossiping.
Coushers, Wakes; cou'd play
Margery.
Mageen,
Whip off
Gossiping.
Dunboyn, and
Dance a Myeen;Cou'd play
Towns in
Fingaul.
Portlaughrin, and
Towns in
Fingaul.
Bunratty;And
Song.
Macklemone, so sweet, O dear, itWou'd do a dead Cat good to hear it.
Until this whiffling
Farter.
Tuffo-geerMust Challeng lofty Trumpit-teer;
And did before
O Triton Fart,
For which he run him through the Heart,
That fatal unexpected Stab,
For poor
Macshane did do his Job.
As soon as
Mac his Blood did spye,
He cou'd not for his Life but die.
To see poor
Mac so fast a-sleep.
But chiefly
Nees: Ho! Hub-bub-boo!
Poor Nees,
and all his Men may rue
Fat made it go away so soon,
And leave dy Lands behind? I tro,
Ill vas dy vont for doing so;
To make a dy, and leave dy Plains,
Dy Cows, dy Sheep, and dy
Horses.
Garrains.
O Hone! Dear-Joy! Is poor Macshane
Vill never blow de Peep again.
O Hone! Macshane!
Hub-bub-bub-boo!
Il-lil-lil-lil-lil-lil-lil-loo!
(z) But seeing such a mighty throng
Of Trees, bethought him of the
Nun.
Dear-Joy, if this
Three-leav'd-grass.
Shamrogue shou'd prove
By chance to grow in this same Grove;
Shou'd Nees
so luckily succeed,
'I would be Luck in a Bag indeed.
And fait, fy mayn't it prove so too?
All is not false dat she says true.
A Brace of
Ducks appeard in sight.
The Prince, as soon as he beheld
His Mothers Brood, he quickly smel'd
A Rat, by th' Feather in the Nose,
And knew them by their Scarlet Hose:
Which was a piece of Yellow Woollen,
To know them from their Neighbours Pullen;
Stitch'd with an artificial Peg,
Like blue Sassoons about the Leg.
(b)
Nees, joyful at the sight, did pray
His Mother's
Ducks to lead the way;
In Grove so pester'd, that poor
Nees
Cou'd not see Wood for throng of Trees;
So waddled after them as close
As he cou'd follow for his Nose.
[Page 31]Thus hotly they pursu'd the Scent,
Crambing their Gorges as they went;
Until they cropt the very Weed,
Where every day they us'd to feed.
Nees, when the Shamrog he did spye,
Cries out,
I have it in my Eye,
(c)
Is vid me fait. And so he run
To bring the Present to the Nun.
(d) Mean while the Rout to work do fall,
Form of an
Irish Funeral.
To Celebrate the Funeral.
And first with Turff from Bog, and Blocks,
They made a Fire wou'd roast an Oxe.
Some lay the Pipkins on, and some
With Holy-water bathe his Bum.
There was the Priest forgiving Sins,
Busie as Hen with two Chick-eens,
[Page 32]'Nointing his Forehead, and his Nose,
And downwards to his Pettitoes;
After the Method of his Function,
With Holy Oyl of Extreme Unction.
Which Office decently perform'd,
The Guests, with Usquebagh well warm'd,
(e) They raise the Cry. And so they fout him
Unto a Crate,
Description of an
Irish Cabbin.
to howl about him;Built without either Brick or Stone,
Or Couples to lay Roof upon:
With Wattlets unto Wattles ty'd,
(Fixt in the ground on either side)
Did like a shaded Arbour show,
With Seats of Sods, and Roof of Straw.
The Floor beneath with Rushes laid, stead
of Tapestry; no Bed nor Bedstead;
[Page 33]No Posts, nor Bolts, nor Hinges in door,
No Chimney, Kitchin, Hall, or Windor;
But narrow Dormants stopt with Hay
All night, and open in the day.
On either side there was a door
Extent from Roof unto the floor,
Which they, like Hedg-hogs, stop with straw,
Or open, as the Wind does blow:
And tho they reach from top to floor,
His Grace crept in upon all-four.
Betwixt the door there was a spot
I' th' middle, to hang o're the pot;
And had an Engine in the nick,
For pair of Tongues, a
Maddabrist.
broken stick.I' th' presence was no stool, but one
Old Creel, for
Nees to sit upon:
For all the rest, as they did come,
Made Stools and Cushions of their Bum.
To lie in state came this Sea-Crab in,
Dy'd for the nonce in liquid Sable,
And laid him underneath the Table;
Where in one end the parted Brother
Was laid to rest, the Cows in t' other,
With all his Followers and Kin,
Who far and near came crowding in,
With
Hub-bub boos, besides what Cryers
For greater state his Highness hires;
Who all come crowding in; and in comes
Monk Corin too, with all his Trinkums;
Who when he had his Office paid,
And for the Dead a while had pray'd,
To their own Sports, (the
Masses ended,)
The Mourners now are recommended.
[Page 35]Some for their pastime count their Beads,
An
Irish Wake.
Some scratch their Breech, some louse their Heads;
Some sit and chat, some laugh, some weep;
Some sing
Cronans
Songs.
, and some do sleep;Some pray, and with their prayers mix curses;
Some Vermin pick, and some pick Purses;
Some court, some scold, some blow, some puff,
Some take Tobacco, some take Snuff;
Some play the Trump, some trot the Hay,
Some at
Macham
A Game at Cards.
, some
Noddy play;With all the Games they can devise;
And (when occasion serves 'em) Cries.
Thus did they mix their grief and sorrow,
Yesterday bury'd, kill'd to morrow;
And
(g) mounted him upon a Beer;
Through which the Wattles did appear;
[Page 36]Like Ribbs on either side made fast,
With a
Blanket.
White Velvet over-cast:So poor
Macshane, Good rost his Shoul,
Was after put him in a hole;
In which, with many sighs and scrietches,
They throw his Trouses and his Breeches;
And tattar'd Brogue was after throw,
With a new heel-piece on the toe;
And Stockins Fine as
Friez to feel,
Worn out with praying at the heel;
And in his mouth, 'gainst he took Wherry,
Dropt a
Bun-guol.
white Groat to pay the Ferry.Thus did they make this last hard shift,
To furnish him for a dead lift.
Last having done his
Ave Mary's,
And all his
Drollans
Fopperies and Trumperies.
and Boldaries,His Blessing too; calls for the Besom,
Which dipt in Salt and Holy Water,
He does their Coxcombs all bespatter;
And while they for the Blessing stickle,
Did leave them all in sacred pickle.
(i) The Prince, as yet not half content,
Did build a larger Monument;
O're which he carv'd about the middle
The Bagpipes Rampant on a Fiddle.
So fare thee well, since thou art gone;
Sloo Skeal donna no Dees.
The loss of Two is less than One.
(k) And so unto the Nun he packs on,
To put in suit his former Action.
[Page 38]Here first the Prince, who lov'd good cheer,
And
Shela make a sad mur-deer
On Pigs,
A
Fingallian, or
Ulster Feast.
and Geese, and Hogs, and Styes,To offer up a Sacrifice.
(l) Four milk black Sheep, ta'n from the Fold,
And Yearlings three or four year old,
With Hide and Horns, and Guts and all,
Thrust on a Tree, and roasted whole;
Which, with their
Durgins and
Madoges
Skeins. or Knives.
,They cut upon their greasie Brogues
For Trenchers, and did wipe their Brushes
With Napkins wove of Shags and Rushes.
Betwixt this
Cosher,
Gossiping.
and the Nun,The night was spent, and day begun:
As when a Turf does blaze and burn,
So sprightly did the morning turn,
[Page 39]From a successive Black to White,
Like a new burnt Tobacco-pipe.
Where scarce had they their
Mattins don,
When an Enchantment struck the Nun
With sudden
Meagrim; and
Nees feigns
H' had got a
Gamshoge
Game or Sport.
in his Brains;
(m) Where all the Wolves, and Barking Crew
Of Dogs, put up the
Hub-bub-boo;
Which scar'd the Prince, until the Nun,
More valiant, made them hold their tongue.
(n) Get out, I say, of this same Lake, you,
You wicked wretches, or I'll make you:
Out, out, you Cuckold's Currs; what, Pox!
Are we a Company for Shocks?
(o) Now
Nees, if thou to brave thy Fate,
Has but the Soul of a dead Cat,
[Page 40]Now, now look big, and cock thy Beard:
St.
Colom! Is the Prince afear'd?
Draw, draw thy
Madog, says the Elf,
And now or never shew thy self:
Now is the word,
Nees,
Now or Never;
And do it
Now, 'tis done for
Ever.
Now prove thy self a Man or Mouse,
Or all our Do's not worth a Louse.
(p) So, mad to go they knew not whither,
They shot the
Stygian Gulph together;
She first, and
Nees did overtake her
Before his Highness could come at her.
But here the Nun, before she leads
Him further, falls unto her Beads;
For she had still (the subtle Fiend,)
Her Prayers upon her fingers end,
[Page 41]Or hanging round her Waste, like Locket,
Which now at last return'd to pocket.
And so when she had done her Graces,
The Ceremonies in entring St.
Patrick's Purgatory.
Gerraldus Cambrensis, and
Hollingshed's Description of
Ireland.
Her
Cosras, Oras, and her
Masses,
Her
Aves, Beads, and all the CeRemonies
of the
Tenebrae;
(q) And invocated every Spirit,
That in those Regions did inherit;
And all the Saints from great
The Patron of
Ireland.
St.
Patrick,Founder of
Kilkenny.
Kenny, and
Q
[...]aeran
of Clonviencis.
Queran, and
St. Finnia Beatrick
of Clonard.
Beatrick,Cowgal
of Beanor
Cowgal, and
St C
[...]lm
of Lough Erin,
Colom,
Bohineoge, Cousin German to
Colm-Kid.
Bohineoge,
Of L
[...]smore.
Mauchey, and
Sancta Maula.
Maule, and
Of L
[...]thmore.
Mauchevoge,
Of Killachy.
Shincheal, and
St.
Shinkan, Son of great St.
Colm.
Shinkan, and
Sancta Suana.
O Suan,
Brandon of
Byrr, in the County of
Tipperary, a very Eminent Saint; He was taken up into Heaven in a fiery Charior.
Eusebius apud Osulievan.
Brandon of Byrr, and
Colm O Crowan.
Colm O Crowan,
[Page 42]And
Colm O Kill, who was Cousin to
Colm O Crowan, both Eminent Saints.
Colomkill, and
An ancient Saint, whose Life is written by
M
[...]ulin O Malconry
Phelimback,And
Gillarnoo, M
[...] C
[...]embocht, a Sai
[...]t▪ and great Hi
[...]ion, much recorded in the
Irish Legends.
Gillarnoo, and all the pack;She ceas'd: Nor was there to be found,
Either above or under ground,
In all the Registry, not one
That she forgot to call upon,
To guide her, and her pretty Page,
In Subterranean Pilgrimage.
And thus equipt, they take their Flight,
Without a Link, in a dark Night;
Both fumbling in the dark together,
Tho neither knew which way, nor whither;
Groaping the Air with
Staff.
Bat, and paws,So dark, they cou'd not feel their Nose.
Now He, now sometimes She did follow;
And sometimes they were forc'd to hollow.
[Page 43]
(r) But when they had approach'd the door,
Hic primus Campus est Cruciatuum.
Osullevan de Purgatorio
Divi Patricii.
They're in worse pickle than before:
There was the
Hub-bub-boo, and rack
Of
Dear Joys, a disbanded pack:
Sorrow and Tears, Hunger and Cold,
Nihilominus non parvi manes in aulla manserunt qui me inde Rapuerunt.
Vici Comes apud
Osullevanum.
And Sleep and Death, beneath the Hold;
Discord and Priest-Adultery,
And Fear, and Care, and Jealousie;
And every Cheater and Impostor,
With Thief and
Tory there did foster.
(s) About the middle grew a Tree,
A Nest of Lies and Forgery:
Romances and Old Womans Story
Fill'd the first Page of
Purgatory;
Secundus Campus Cruciatuum.
And Miracles of Priest and Monk
Do in this Pound lye all defunct.
False Witnesses and Perjuries;
Vain Promises of Catholicks,
Oblig'd to break with Hereticks.
All Arbitrary close Intrigues
Of Monarch, and illegal Leagues.
Indulgence and Equivocation,
Penance, and Mental Reservation.
And here was cramb'd, among the Skulls,
Infallibility and Bulls.
With other Wonders here did
Nees
Spy;
Entities, Heccieties,
Rationis Ens; and there did lie
Ʋniversale à parte Rei.
Teague over-reach'd by the
Monsieur,
With
Vout tres humble Serviteur.
Enough to put them to their Wits end.
Here
Nees, poor
Nees, half scar'd to death,
Forc'd Bilbo from unwilling sheath;
And with a sort of Desperation,
(The Courage of that War-like Nation,)
(w) Fell foul upon the Shades, and dashes
Their Brains with unresisted slashes.
Here had not
Shela held the Squire,
Warning the Spirits to retire,
And made 'em vanish great and small,
No doubt he wou'd have kill'd 'em all:
For he did curse and damn, he wou'd
Be
Beating.
frapping of 'em while he stood.
(x) A Hut there was, fenc'd with a Wood,
Poenarum fluvius.
Trench'd with a Mote, and pav'd with Mud;
[Page 46]Where lodg'd in State the Ferry-Groom,
Like
Woodkern drest in Yellow Stuff,
An Irish Kern.
And Trouses made of Blanket proof;
A
Satyr's Beard; and on his Head
He wore a
Scollopt read
Cap.
Burrede;His
Hair.
Glibbs hung down like Tails of Rats,His
Eyes.
Goggles flam'd like Eyes of Cats:
(z) Where there was neither
Crisped Bushes of Hair, worn by the Wild
Irish over their Foreheads, to deface them.
Spencer of the State of
Ireland.
Crisp nor Curl,The very But-end of a Churl▪
(a) His Mantle made of Blew Scar-leet,
Which reach'd almost unto his Feet,
He with a Wattle Twist had ty'd,
With Knot from Shoulder unto Side:
About his well-set Legs he drew
Stockins, a pair of
Mazareen-Blue,
[Page 47]Turn'd in-side out, a shift in need,
To stop the Holes on t' other
Side.
sheed;A Dish-clout round his Neck was hung,
And wore his
Brogue upon his Tongue:
For Tongue a
Brogue supply'd the Strain;
And yet he had more Tongue than Brain.
(b) And in this manner he transported
All Customers that there resorted;
Both Rogues, and Thieves, and VVhores, and Jades;
All sort of Devils, except Trades.
Teague a Trade!
Vb-bub-bub-boo.
(c) VVhere you might see the Spirits fly
As swift as Atoms in the Sky:
Others, to gain the Banks do strive,
In Swarms, like Bees about an Hive;
As thick as Hops they crowd and hover,
Expecting who shall first get over.
[Page 48]But he, the Churlish Cur, to ease
Their hearts, will do but what he please:
Some he takes in, and some he knocks
VVith his
Pole.
Goadeen from off the Rocks.VVhat strugling there was there? O Lord, Sir!
VVhat work was there to be a-Boord Sir?
(d)
Nees at the Clatter making wonder,
VVas mad the Business to stand under;
And catching her by the Plac-kete,
Says,
(My Dear Joy) fat's de Rac-kete,
Or fat a Devil here ado's?
Is Hell indeed ybroke it loos?
How comes it thus, says he,
about,
Some are took in, and some thrust out?
Some hop upon de Water, and
Some swim on Ditches, and dry Land?
Cast a Sheeps Eye upon
Lough Erin
and Lough Neagh,
Two Loughs
in Ʋlster,
so famous for converting Wood into Stone. Hollingshed de
[...]acu Ʋlto
[...]iae.
Lough Erin,Whose Flouds to a Whetstone turn a Blockhead:
And judg hereby if I do mock it.
Those Souls you see, are dead;
Car-roon,
That owns the Ferry, is the Loon;
Those that to be transported strive,
Have bury'd been dead or alive:
But for the rest, that want a Burial,
Dolorum Campus.
May wander here till they are weary all,
And fast a Thousand
Lents, before he
Can have the Grace of
Purgatory.
While he was gazing round about,
Wh' a Pox shou'd drop into his Mout,
[Page 50]But old Sir
Loughlin Lucas, who ran
From
Portsmouth-Bay, with
Derby Oram,
When the sad storm did fall upon 'em,
And one of the two both did drown 'em.
Forty gay Officers beside,
Lost with the Ship for want of Guide.
Here
Nees was in a horrid pain,
To know Sir
Loughlin's▪Christen'd Name;
And whisper'd
Shela in the Ee,
Who swore she knew no more than he.
(f) With these was
Palinure, the Swabber,
Drown'd in a Sea of
Bannae-clabber.
Nees, in a maze, cry'd,
Palinure,
Dear Joy; and art thou dead for sure?
Fat Devil vast took dee from me?
Had I no Rogue to loose but dee?
[Page 51]
And be dis is a sorry Skeal.
On sudden
vas be overbore me,
And made me throw my Face before me.
But by dis Flood, and Fate and Trote,
And by de pleasant Hill of
The Hill of
Hoth in
Fingaul.
Hote,My Care when dou vas on dat shelf,
Vas more for dee, den for my self;
Left all alone to guide de Cot,
For fear dy self shou'd go to pot.
Three
Irish Nights in Cold and Frost,
Upon de
Water-Weeds.
Curtlaughs I vas tost,Till making to a little flash,
Expecting there a Landing Plaace,
A Crew of
English, Dutchland Knaves,
Vas break my Face in two three halves,
Vas cut my Head from my Shouldeer:
Which I indeed of Death in speet,
Bore through de vater in my Teet.
Riding full post when I was dead,
To
Dublin Bay from
In Fingaul.
Malaheed.And now de Head and
Carcass bleed,
Ten times kill'd over since indeed.
Derefore (Dear Joy) to have no Grave,
Is all de favour dat I crave;
To do so much for a poor Soul,
(h) To throw my Carcass in a hole;
For
Nees (say he), if thou vill meend it,
Amongst the Curtlaghs dou vill seend it;
Where it does lye in safe Cust-ody,
No flesh alive, but the dead Body.
Help me to trot the Donny-Lake;
Dat my poor Soul may prick his Ears,
And rest in peace with my Fa-deers.
How,
Palinure, (reply'd the Scold)
'Twixt me and
God.
Good, thou art too bold:Wou'dst thou pretend to be a Spirit,
And go to Hell e're thou art bury'd?
No, no; do not mistake thy self,
The Devil is no such silly Elf.
But I will tell thee for thy Comfort,
Wee'll search thy Carcass out in some Port:
If it from th'
Eels.
Snigs we can retrieve,Or Crows han't bury'd thee aleeve;
(k) And raise a Tomb shall still endure
The Name of honest
Now
Killinure, within five miles of
Dublin.
Palinure.Towards the Confines of
Purgation.
The Ferry-man, that kept the Port,
Perceiving such a strange Resort,
Of Monsters, making t'wards the
Strand,
Cry'd out in War-like manner, Stand:
Who, who comes dat? Stand, who comes dat?
Or vid my Pike I'll fire dy Pate.
(m) Believe me, ho, who e're appears.
Thus armed to 'sault our Quar-teers;
You shall not pass, until I know
A Reason why you shall or no.
Therefore to shun a farther ill,
Stand off, I say, at your per
[...]ll:
[Page 55]This place is for a legless Crew,
And not such o're-grown Calves as you:
Nor can our Wherry bear such Loobies;
I deal with Shadows, not such Boobies.
(n) Nor truly did they fare so well,
The
Tories that came last to Hell,
O Sheil, Mac Teage, and
Owen Roe,
Tho they were Gentlemen, you know:
They were
Irish-men.
And sure you cannot choose but hear
What hurly-burly they made there;
How they were like to beat the Porter;
Broke up the Doors to take free Quarter:
And then, forsooth, 'tis in our Hist'ries,
Nothing wou'd serve 'em but my Mistress;
Rummag'd the Buttery, and the Spence,
And ravish'd the poor Kitchin-wench.
[Page 56]The
Tories plaid the Devil i' th' shape,
Of Plunder, Burglary, and Rape:
To save the House was all our fears,
From being fir'd about our Ears.
(o) Hold, hold! My Ears thou'rt after grateing;
I prithee (Dear Joy) peace thy prating,
Says
Shela; dost thou think that we
To go to Hell need Policy?
(p) But honest
Nees, well-known for leading
An Army off, and eke for Beading,
Only to see his Sire, his Highness
Comes out of meer stark Love and Kindness,
To get disarm'd off all his Glory,
A Colonel's place in
Purgatory.
I'll shew thee yet a better Tail;
A Tail it is, contains such matter,
Wou'd make thy very Teeth to water:
Dost thou see this? Thou simple Ass,
Dost think I come without my Pass?
So pulling out her Three-leav'd Blossom,
Which lay as close as Louse in Bosom,
Crys out, Do you see this, you damn'd Rogue?
He crost himself to see the Shamrogue;
Turn'd up his Whites, but cou'd not vent
One word, for very wonderment.
Vill dou see dis? Vere are dy Ears?
Do's tink dat Lees have no Beg-geers?
And now no Tanks unto your Brogue-a,
Ve vill go o're vid dis Shamroge-a.
[Page 58]Ill Smell upon dee, and dy Pink,
Dou art a Guddinghang, I tink,
Reply'd the
Kern; and being pleas'd
To see the Branch, his Fury ceas'd:
As fast as he cou'd drive, took Paddle,
And clapt his Bum into the Saddle.
To serve the Prince, and make the Nun-room,
He lath'd the Hould, and clear'd the Gun-room.
(r)
Nees over-grown with Calves and Chins,
And Guts as heavy as his sins,
No sooner stept upon the Hatches,
But every Plank and Cable retches;
And had not
Shela us'd a Spell,
He had gone ne're t' have crack't the Shell,
Throw which the Water strain'd did flow,
As fast as Milk through wisp of straw.
He landed them upon the Mud;
Half bury'd, half in water drown'd,
Dawbing and wallowing in
Lobb's Pound;
Through Woods and Boggs, each step, poor
Nees
Above the Calf, and She her Knees:
Bare-legg'd, bare-footed, and bare-thigh'd,
The Nymph made many a graceful stride.
Her Coats about her Waste tuck't high,
A
Fingallian Woman.
Her Smock advanc'd above her Thigh;
Her Gown of finest Scarlet
Freez,
With Puddle-dirt above her Knees;
Sultana like, on
Water-Tabb,
Instead of Lace, some call a Drabb:
Her Smock
Sultana'd with the same,
Fit to array so spruce a Dame;
[Page 60]Hanging in Plates so thick and wide,
Nees cou'd between, a Gallop ride:
A Ready Artificial Mode,
To stride more easie on the Road,
Or sit at home at naked Rock,
And do her Business in her Smock.
To lug her Child out of the Water,
(As he before had done his Father)
She carries him upon her back;
If he a Dram o'th' Bottle lack,
Cou'd should'ring throw her Breasts behind,
To suck as oft as he had 'mind:
A Charity not rarely done;
For there they suck at Forty One.
Her Waste as slender as her Cows,
With a White Kerchief on her Brows;
Her brawny Calves, and Splay-foot bare,
Her Thighs like moving-Pillars were;
[Page 61]And with an equal distance wide;
So natural 'twas for her to stride.
About her Ears her golden Main
Hung down, like Pack-thread dy'd in Grain;
Her Stockins twisted like an Harslet,
She wore about her Neck for Bracelet;
And as
Antipodes, the Jade,
Carry'd her Brogues upon her head:
Their naked Trunks they thus expose,
To save th' expence of Shooes and Hose.
A penitential Voyage, and sory,
They make to come to
Purgatory.
Here did that Monster first appear,
That threefold headed Dog,
(t)
Cer-beer;
Stretch'd in the door, set up the howl,
A Leash of Wolves were in his Jowl;
[Page 62]Until the Witch to get to Hell,
Had cramb'd him with inchanted Spell.
So being soop't with
Ʋsquebagh,
He went to sleep, They on their way;
And enter (if you'l credit Story)
The Magick Gates of
Purgatory.
(u) The first place where the Ghosts did haunt 'em,
The Ancients call'd,
Limbus Infantum.
Limbus Infantum.Here they beheld a numerous Train
Of Orphans in the Wars were slain;
Some mounted upon Pikes, and some
Torn from the dying Mothers Womb;
With Embrio's, and prodigious Throngs
Of Infants got by Priests and Nuns,
[Page 63]In Abbies, and in Monastries,
And murder'd by the Votaries,
To cloak a Venial Sin; to whom
A Pit, or Privy was their Tomb;
The Issue of the Bed defil'd,
Honora's Bastard,
Alice.
Alsoon's Child.And here did
Nees spy his poor Soldiers,
Thrust in a hole by head and shoulders;
Where they behind left both their Ears,
For running from the K—'s Cool-Ieers:
Some run the Gantlet in the Fields,
Others with Gads ty'd Neck and Heels:
Some mounted on the Wooden-Horse;
And some with Hemp were mounted worse.
Nor does this thing by Chance succeed,
But as by th' Judges it is decreed:
For by a Court of
Clamper,
The Seat of Four Courts in
Dublin, call'd
Hell.
'eenAs it is this day in
Dub-leen;
[Page 64]I say, a Court of
Clamper held
In
Hell it self; they are compell'd
All to appear at the next Sessions,
And there to make their true Confessions;
Where Father
Mine gives Absolution;
Or else they're sent to Execution:
For every one, amongst the Spirits,
Takes place according to his Merits.
A desperate Troop of whining Lovers;
Who in their Melancholly Fits,
For Madness, run out of their Wits.
(x) Amongst this Train he spy'd the Widdow,
His Old Acquaintance, Guddy
Dido,
[Page 65]That pin'd to Death, (the fawning Strap)
Some say for Love, some of a Clap;
When from her
Nees turn'd Helm a Larbour,
To Anchor in false
Jen—'s Harbour.
Nees gliding at her through the Shade,
Cast a Calve's Eye from a Sheep's Head:
If I han't lost my little Senses,
Sure, sure, says
Nees, dis my old Vench is.
(y) But when he drew more nigh her Quarters,
And knew her by her Straw-twist Garters,
Up to her face he boldly went,
And thus he made his Complement:
Ill chaunce upon dee, art dou dead?
Take little sneezing for de King.
But she reply'd, and said No-ting;
[Page 66]Minding no more his senseless Babling,
Than if she were a Rock of
In
Fingaul.
Mablin.
Sure, sure, says
Nees, she does but jest,
Dis of de Natures not the Beast;
Pre-dee come here, my pretty Rogue,
And give me de one little
Kiss.
Poge,
For Old Acquaintance; for it's dee,
Dat is my only Cram-ma-cree.
(a)
I pre-dee now, my dear Joy, stay;
Vat Devil make it run away?
She cannot hold one Touch, but itching,
Is after be, to run a Bitching.
Shall never pass so vid her Bears;
Nees
has not seen dese Tousand years.
Let's sit, and smoke a Peep for pastime;
(b)
A parting Kiss: Dis is de last Time.
Dou may as rader Kiss my Breech.
And now I know dee for a Rogue,
I scorn dee as Dirt of my Brogue.
Belching an Oyster in her Fist,
I care not dis for all dy grist.
So fled as nimble as the Wind,
(Bidding the Prince to kiss behind,)
To
Sichy, the old Cuckold nigh,
Where she to Fish had other fry.
Until they came to
Champion Ground;
Where they did camp with Sword and Shield,
That lost their Lives in bloody Field;
Their Heads cut in Three halves, e're they
Cou'd have the time to run away.
Scot, Dempsy, and
Scolloge na Party,
O Connor Bourk, and
Owen Medon,
Mackillacud, and
Poul O Padon,
And his
Comrogues, so lately broken,
Sent for the Devil to a Token:
In Rank and File they all drew out,
On every hand, to view the Lout.
(d) Nor is't enough they saw his Grace;
Like Sots, but they must stand to gaze;
Crowding about him all to hear,
And learn what News in
Shamrogsheer.
They curst the
Flemmings, and the
French,
But highly prais'd his Excellence,
His Zeal and Conduct, (when the day
Was lost, his Wit) to run away.
[Page 69]His Back no sooner turn'd, i'th' place
But they abus'd him to his Face.
But the poor
Danes, and
Red-Shank Rogues,
As soon as they beheld his Brogues,
And bloody
Bionet draw near,
Their
Conny-holes did stink for fear:
Caves under ground.
They were the ancient habitation of the Danes, visible in many parts of Ireland to this day.
Some run away, and some did throng
To speak, but cou'd not find a Tongue:
For they resolved on't, they said,
No-ting to say, when they were dead.
So muzzled in inchanted Noose,
They cou'd not to a Bo, say Goose.
In Recompence of which dumb Show,
All they cou'd have from
Nees, was
Ooo-gh.
And now not thinking more than I am,
Who shou'd he see, but young
(e)
O
Priam. Fingallian, Bryan, or
O Bryan, descended from
Heber, the White ancient Kings of
Munster.
Priam.
[Page 70]So Clapperclaw'd, you'd think his Grace
Had got an Ear-mark in his Face:
His Face was broken in three halves,
Patch'd o're with Plasters, and with Salves.
Besides, his
(f) Ears were cut, and Locks,
And
(g) Nose was eaten by the Pox.
So simply look't poor
Priam oge,
So pepper'd was the
Donny Shoge,
That
Nees, (for all his Cunning Pate)
Cou'd scarce discern his Fellow-mate;
But when he view'd his Couch of Straw,
And found he was the Man he saw,
He clapt his hands; but first he crost him,
And thus he after did accost him:
Dear Bryan oge,
and is it you?
Pox take you, Broder, How do you do?
[Page 71]
What, Hell-Beast, art thou yet alive?
Blood of the Kings! How dost thou thrive?
My Shole and Be, I am as Joy
To see dee, as a Cob, my Boy.
Joy, vilt dou take a litile Snuff,
For King and Queen? Joy, take enough:
Or if dou'd rather smoak a Peep
For de young Prince. Art dou asleep?
With that he hit him such a Thump,
As struck him flat upon his Rump,
In point of Courtesie; and so
Desired of his Grace to know,
(h) What Devil brought him to that Meen,
To make him look so Shaggereen?
Vat Traitor vas be so disloyal,
To Coventry,
the Blood of Royal?
And fate and be, my self vas told,
Ven dou vas after being dead,
Vas make me break my heart in Deed;
Put up for dee a dead Cof-feen,
Vid Flags, and Scutcheons in a Crate,
Built for de Prince to lye in State:
(l)
Thrice did I raise the Hull-lil-loo!
To save dee Shoule, but 'twou'd not do:
(m)
For, fate, and be, my own Bro-deer,
Altho I writ dee a Let-teer,
Ven dou was dead, and turn'd to dust,
(My own heart too vid sorrow burst)
One word in Answer did not come, Son,
Or a Green-Sod had been thy Tombstone.
And Goodness light on that sweet Face:
My dear Joy, thou hast don me all
The Honour of a Funeral.
But 'tis my
Irish Luck indeed;
Lacene, the Witch that made me bleed,
(And forc'd me in this Pound to waver)
These are the Tokens of her Favour.
When the
Dutch-Horse leapt o're the Wall,
And made the Fort one Funeral;
When wake, we found the Town a burning,
And all our Throats cut in the Morning.
(e)
110 But prethee
Nees, in sober sadness,
What Dee'l possest thee with this Madness,
That thou should'st leave thy stout Brigades,
Thy
Bannaclab, and thy
Pottades,
[Page 74]Thy Cows, thy Sheep, and thy
Garrans;
Thy
Slimbred, and thy good
A Three Corner'd Oat-Cake.
Stow-ans;Thy Woods and Bogs, and thy fat Soil,
In Darkness here to toss and toil;
In such a
Malapert as this is,
Poenarum fernox.
Where all our Fare is empty Dishes.
What shou'd the Prince do here among us,
Where's neither
Brandy, nor
Mundong us?
All at Board-Wages, hard enough,
Three-pence a Week to buy us Snuff:
And, Faith, when we are paid together,
We do not get that Three-pence neither.
(p) In this, and in such
Nonsenee, they
Did blunder out the live-long day;
Till Night began to light her Matches,
Putting on Vizard, and Black-patches;
[Page 75]And from a Goddess to a Witch, She
Turn'd in a Trice as black as
Gypsie;
When she to rate 'em thus begun,
What, Sirrahs! will you ne're have done?
'Sdeath! have I nothing else to do,
But sit all day to stand to you?
Full time it is we should be trudging,
E're it be dark to seek a Lodging.
Are we come here, says she, to sleep?
(Laughing to see the Mawkins weep)
No,
Nees, this
Irish Melancholly
Will never do; forbear thy Folly:
Or we may lose our selves in new ways:
(q) (For there was here a Cross of Two ways)
But how to go the right way home,
Nees knew no more than Pope of
Rome;
But
Shela, who was read full well
In all the Cavities of Hell,
[Page 76]Taking the Prince about the middle,
The Mystery did soon unriddle.
(r) That on the Right, says she, before thee,
Is the high Road to
Purgatory;
That on the Left's the beaten Road
Unto the Devils Chief aboad;
Which out of Favour he intends,
And keeps it for his better Friends.
You know it, (Sir) march on, I pray;
You
Goodman Two Brogues, that's your way.
(ſ) Nay, do not rage, reply'd the Prince;
Have but a little patience,
And if my Company's uneasie,
I'm vanish'd in a Trice, to please ye.
I go, I go, to fill the number
Of those that never sleep nor slumber;
[Page 77]Confin'd into a little Cot,
Where there is neither Pipe nor Pot:
No Two Pence Ord'nary is here,
As much as Frumaty-Cel-leer:
Nay, not as much has
Bryan oge,
To put in's head, as one
Shamroge.
Poor Bryan
must not be endur'd:
So clapping
A Plug of Tobacco.
Pig-Tail in his Fist,They parting cry'd, and crying, kist.
(u)
Nees, gaping round about him, spies
Under the ground an Edifice,
Surrounded with a Tripple Moat,
Where Ducks and Geese cou'd walk a-float;
And with impregnable
Bastoons,
And
Counterscarps, and
Demiloons;
[Page 78]Where they had planted
Ashes tall,
To stop the growing of the Wall:
Of all appear'd above the ground,
Not half a Foot was to be found,
But Mud, and Sods, a Bridge to pass,
And that was cover'd o're with Grass:
(w) A Gate there was of wondrous scope,
On Wooden Bolts did shut and ope,
To let in People as they throng,
And keep 'em in when they were gone;
Rough-cast with yellow Lime and Mortar,
Where lay asleep the watchful Porter;
A very fit and proper House, Sir,
For such a worthy Guest to
Cosher.
Nees weary grown, and loth to budg,
Took up his Quarters in the Lodg;
Swearing he cou'd not part, not for his
Own Leef, till he got
Door Cup.
Dough a Dorris.
[Page 79]With that the Porter brought 'em out
A Meddar stopt with a clean Clout;
Which tho 'twas reckon'd but a small one,
Contain'd Three halfs of a whole Gallon.
Come Wench (says
Nees),
Dram of the Bottle;
With that, soak't off a whole half Pottle:
She pledg'd him half, more modest, and he
With Butter qualify'd the Brandy.
Secuudus Campus, Dolorum.
(x) Scarce had they drank, when they were scar'd
With Horror, which the Frolick marr'd:
For here they heard such
Hull-lil-loo's,
Such Scrietches, and such
Hub-bub-boo's,
Hinc sui ductus in alium Campum miseria doloribusqu Fuuestissimum Vice comes apud
Osullevan
With Iron Bolts each loaded Stamper,
Ratling of Chains, and such a Clamper,
Put
Nees into such Panick Fears,
His Brains were sunk into his Ears:
[Page 80]The little Remnant Nurse with Mout,
Had left from sucking through his Snout;
Which way of draining, does appear,
Makes Wit so scarce in
Shamrogeshire.
Under her Coats flown for Relief,
Crys,
My Dear Joy, vat's here de heat?
Shela,
vat's mean dis sad Rack-ete,
Dat, dat we cannot for de noise,
Ve cannot for'em hear our Eyes?
(z) In Parables, mysterious Nun,
T' inform his Highness thus begun;
Altho the Prince her Learn'd Discourse,
No more stoodunder than his Horse;
Sometimes said, I, and sometimes No,
When neither, salv'd it up with
Ooo-gh.
That never yet turn'd Face to Battel;
To run you thro' the
Stygian Histories,
There's very few discern these
Mysteries:
Yet for the Grace I have with
Joaney,
Queen of the
Spirits▪
Shoges, and my one
Croney,I know as much (
Nees) as another,
But dare not tell't, were it my Brother:
Yet if thou'rt curious to know,
I'll strain a Point:
Nees answer'd,
Ooo-gh.
I must not do't, and yet, said she,
Tho we are Sworn to Secrecy;
I'll tell it,
Nees, tho I should hang:
Was not
Anchees, that
Fit for nothing but the Gallows.
Guddihang,My own
Gos-sope, and thy own Mother,
Did stand with me to twenty other?
Dere's yet a Crimsho on de Lees;
Ere you begin,
Skerrit Dough
no Skeal.
drink off your Ale,
For Drink is shorter den your Tale.
With that about went wodden Meddar,
Till both were Drunk and slept together
Under a
Blankit or Covering.
Plad, which did extendCross the long Hall, from end to end:
On Litter lay'd, like Horse at Manger,
Which serv'd for Family and Stranger.
This was their Fare in
Purgatory,
But you, says Nees,
forget your Story.
Rouze up; Before we go abroad,
I'le tell it
Nees upon the Road.
In such Discourse they march along,
Then to her Tale she turn'd her Tongue.
The Roast in Hell, is call'd
Old Noll.
Mac Rhadamanth, a furious Devil,
Severe Revenger of all Evil:
Tho some Nick-name him
Old Rogue.
Old Scollogue,Others do call him
Young.
Robbin-oge.
(c) He is the Prince of all this Province,
Abbot of the Infernal Covents;
If he but catch you in his Nabb,
Will make thy Dock squirt
Bannaclab;
Sower Milk.
For every slip will lay
A Stroke.
a
Wolt,And strong
A Cudgel.
Mus-tard for every fault;For all thy Roguery and Tricks,
And play the Devil on two Sticks.
I wou'd not be in his
Condition,
That dares call
Penance, Superstition;
Eats Fish on Feasts, or Flesh on
Fast-days;
Of
Saints and
Images speak
slightly,
Fears not the
Priest more than th'
Almighty:
Who
Merit slights, nor hopes
Salvation,
In Works of
Superarrogation.
These are Offences High and Menial;
But all the rest, said she, are Venial,
And bring no guilt upon a
Nation,
As
Murders, Plots, and
Fornication.
(d) And now with horrid Noise,
Dolorem puteus.
which no PenCan e're describe, the Doors did open;
As if all
A Town in the heart of
Fingaull.
Lusk and
Cannought too,Were joyn'd in one loud
Hub-bub-boo.
See'st thou that Monster with the Tail,
That ugly
Monaghan
Ferterd.
Spanci-all,
[Page 85]The worst of all the Devils? Within
Are worse a thousand times than him.
(e) And Hell it self from this same Brink,
Is distant twice as far you'd think:
Phelim ghe Medona, The highest Hill in
Ireland.
As
Phelim Ghe Medlona, fromThe lowest Valley of the
A Valley in
Kildare; Whence the Motto of the
Geraldines, Crom-a Boo. Gigantum Campus.
Crom.
(f) Here did the ancient
Danes Retreat in,
And all the
Giants make their Seating.
Haco, Storater, and
Bastollenon,
The old
O Ruan, and
O Collenon;
Whose Tombstone was (as it is sung)
Three hundred twenty two Foot long.
And there was
Osker, great
Mac Osin,
Who was to great
O Fin near Cousin:
His Fathers-Brothers-Uncles Bard,
Call'd for that cause, his own Bas-tard.
[Page 86]Chastis'd with Whips, (a woful story,)
Against
Nassau, for turning Tory;
With great
(g)
O Salmon, a sad sight he,
Who wou'd be
Mac, and
O Almighty:
Insulting o're the petty Rabble,
Till he was met byth' Cones-table.
From all his Haughtiness was slur'd,
And fell at last into a T—
Even to a Spanlong, from a stride,
For Fall at last will have a Pride.
And here was that prodigious Tooll,
That Monstrous Giant,
The great Garragantua of
Ireland— So famous in the
Irish Chronicles.
Finn Mac-Heuyle;Whose Carcass bury'd in the Meadows,
(h) Took up nine Acres of Pottados:
Nees cou'd not find out, shoud he Rake Hell,
And skim the
Dee'l, such a Mi-racle.
[Page 87]
(i) What shou'd I talk of
Oma Loughlin,
A valiant Conqueror; He overcame the Picts.
Vide Cambrensem de rebus Hybernicis.
Dermot O
Kings of
Connough, descended from
Heber, the White.
Baron of Finglas.
Roirk,
Kings of
Connough, descended from
Heber, the White.
Baron of Finglas
Perish O Coughlin?That it wou'd grieve thy Guts, I'm sure,
To feel what Penance they endure.
Under their Head there hangs a Skein,
Ready to drop into their Brain;
(k) Over their Nose prepared lies
A sumptuous Banquet of great price.
Pottados, and a Spole of Pork,
Where
Nees long'd sore to be at work;
Opsters, and Loysters; A Gam-moon,
Lobsters and Oysters.
And Ham of yellow fat Ba-coon.
And Butter to eat with their Hog,
Was seven years buryed in a Bog;
Enough for three full second Courses:
And tho' they Stomacks had like Horses,
[Page 88]As Ravenous as Mountain-Bears,
They durst not touch it for their Ears.
Often they labour to Inclose,
But still fall short, length of their Nose:
For if they offer but to stir'em,
There is a Fury ready for'em;
(l) A little Devil, that does watch 'em,
Wou'd claw their Jackets, if she catch 'em;
And always has her Rods in pickle,
If they presume, their Ribs to tickle:
And be 'tis very hard, said Nees,
To be so tempted by dis Chees;
To be invited to de Host,
And den be beaten by de Rost;
Now had I as leeve nor a groat,
I had de
Hagg▪
Callagh by de Throat:
[Page 89]
Dat I might teach her Irish Breeding▪
That is good, Hospitable Feeding.
For when
Nees spy'd the Dishes, he
Had like to have strain'd his Modesty;
Yet he of Manners wou'd make show,
But cou'd not for his Guts tell how.
And was Resolv'd, as a Sol-deer,
To make each place his free Quar-teer;
But scratching of his Head at last,
Found 'twas unluckily a Fast!
For
Nees of Knowledge had no Lack,
Had in his Guts an Almanack.
Knew by the Motion of the Sun,
When 'twas a Fast, and when 'twas none;
And now (a Pox on all ill Luck,)
The Fast in
Nees's Stomach stuck;
But being Hungry both, and Dry,
(
For Law has no necessity.)
[Page 90]And since his Hunger could not well
Digest with Complements in Hell,
Clapping his Hand on Basket-hilt,
With fury as he were to Tilt;
In mighty▪ Rage, swore by that Book,
He'd have it, or by Hook or Crook:
And what shift (think you) made the
Lorance,
But slily to pretend Ig-norance;
For Ignorance the Gods appeases,
A Soveraign Cure for all Diseases.
The tender Mother of Devotion,
Which Project,
Nees, did put in Motion,
That she would favour her own Shiled,
Child.
And o're a lame Dog help the Stile;
Who without Priest or Dispensation,
Salves all with Mental Reservation;
And this the substance was o'th' Plot,
To Eat, and then say, he forgot.
Shela (dear Joy,) fat day's to day?
And be I do deserve a Beating;
For fate, I tink, I'm after Eating.
(m) I am undone!
Il-lil-lil-loo!
I am undone! What shall I do?
Oh
Nees! Thou art a wicked Liver,
I am undone, disgrac'd for ever.
Now for this Trick, Hunger and Cold
Be thy Reward, to be so bold;
The Pope can't Absolution give,
Eat Flesh upon St.
Patricks Eve!
Despair,
[...] Luck.
Spereen upon thy Fathers Brood,And may it never do thee good,
Baas gu
[...] Taggard.
Be Death, without a Priest, thy Doom,And no Dog howl upon thy Tomb.
[Page 92]
Say on dy Padreen, till dou Burst,
De Fox fares better Vhen hee's Curst;
And now (says he)
I see my Fare,
De Devil take me, if I spare;
For over Boot, fate over Shoo;
And so in Earnest he fell too,
For Chair, upon a Pannier set,
For all was Fish came to his Net.
Shela, that by this time grew dry,
With Cursing
Nees, and Progeny,
Spying a whole Churn on the Tilt,
More then half fill'd with Butter-Milk;
Got up the
Churn.
Cunnoge to her Knee,And took a Dose for Company;
But of the Butter would not tast,
'Cause (as you heard) it was a Fast.
Here
Nees to shew that he was free,
And given to Hospitallity,
[Page 93]('Cause he one scrape had not left more,)
Order'd the Fragments to the Poor.
(n) Here lodg'd a pack of envious Brothers,
Campus Impiorum.
And Sons of Whores, that beat their Mothers;
With cheating Lawyers, here spy'd
Nees,
Who Rob their Clients of their Fees:
Test-Breakers, and Law-Dispensators,
And Corporation Regulators;
Who more unconstant than the Tide,
For Interest, change from Side to Side.
A throng, amongst these Temporizers,
He finds of Usurers and Misers;
Who cark and care, to leave it all
To Fools, to Piss against the Wall.
Whore-mongers, and old Fornicators
Slain in Adultery, and Traytors,
[Page 94]Who rush into unlawful Battle,
And Steal their Landlords Sheep and Cattle:
To make their Penance, here are fain,
And get their Pen'worth for their pain.
(o) It is but needless to Importune,
To know the difference of their Fortune;
Some grind the
Quern,
Poenarum vallis & Rota.
and never part it;Some hang on Trees, and some are Carted.
The Maids beat Hemp, the Boys twist Gads,
Some High-way Rogues, and some Dog-Pads;
Snuff-Stealers, Geese, and Hen-roost divers,
Sheep-Nappers some, and some Hog-Drivers.
Where each one had, as they did try 'em,
Their Sentence suited to their Crime.
Some Burnt i'th' Hand, and some serv'd worse,
For Stealing Mother of the Horse.
A Mare.
[Page 95]The Rebels, Tories, and such Rogues,
That Dy'd untimely in their
Brogues,
In Hell are ty'd up from their Meat,
No bit to Drink, nor drop to Eat.
That silly Rogue, for hopes of Gain,
Burnt a Cravat of Point
Lorr
[...]in,
Because his Lady made a brace
Of
Cobbs, by burning Silver Lace.
That Mawkin there hangs by the Head,
For picking Paint off Ginger-bread;
And lies expos'd to Wind and Weather,
Extracting Gold from Gilded Leather.
This on the Pill'ry lost his Breath,
With Eggs and Turnips ston'd to Death.
That
Guddihang lost both his Ears,
Penance for Gutting the Oys-teers:
This Fool his Letter Six-pence cost,
To save the charge of Penny-Post▪
[Page 96]This dropt his Candles in the Mire,
And after dry'd 'em at the Fire;
And many suffer in these Pounds,
For passing Half-pence for Half-Crowns.
Where
Thesy sits, the saddest Soul
That ever
Drank.
yelpt in Wooden Bowl,Crying (in sort of scornful Laughter,)
Learn better Manners, then, hereafter.
(p) I'll teach you
Monaghans to tell,
And know St.
Patrick from
Tom Bell.
(q) That Lawless Prince, a Captive lies,
(Ready for spite, to eat his Eyes)
Did sell our Country for a Spell,
And now makes Penace for't in Hell:
He broke our Heads, and for a Paister,
Did place upon us a harsh Master.
[Page 97]One Tyrant brought into disgrace,
And put a Greater in his place.
He by a sinister Intreague,
Did, with his Country, sell poor
Teague
Eternal Slave to the
Monsieur,
As he had lost Two Farms before.
Made Laws, and Vows, and Promises,
And broke 'em all, to break poor
Nees.
(r) That Fornicator
Teague O Raughter,
Did Trip a Dance with his own Daughter,
And joyn'd his Giblets, against all
The Laws Ecclesiastical.
I could not Name thee all the Rogues;
Nor beat into thy addle Brains,
Their various Punishments and Pains.
Cou'd find to say, she then gave o're;
Exhorting
Nees to rise his sitting,
Observe his hits, and mind his knitting;
And stir his Lazy Stumps apace,
To give the Present to her Grace.
Nees by this time (the Board made clean,)
Began to buckle on his
Knife.
skein;And ready to attend the Nun,
Took
Grace Cup.
Dough an Olt, and so trudg'd on.
(u) Thus gorg'd, they foot it both together,
Throw
Glin and
Corough, God knows whither;
Till at the Cabbin they arriv'd,
So richly for the Queen contriv'd;
[Page 99]There was i'th' Porch a Font of Water,
Wherewith
Nees did his Chops bespatter.
Then with a Prayer, which he did say,
Profoundly blest for the whole day;
He fell a fumbling for the Posies,
Which strait Transplanting, from his
Breeches.
Trousies;With Courtesy and Eloquence,
(Becoming so Renown'd a Prince:)
Crys,
Take your Present for a Whore,
So
(w) threw the Shamrog in the door.
For gifts, (not staying the unlocking,)
Like
Irish, enter without Knocking;
(x) This done,
Limbus Patrum.
about the Coasts he beatsOf the
Fair, handsom.
gay Woods, and happy Seats:
[Page 100]With Christal Springs, and now they water'em
Upon the Banks of
Limbo Patrum.
Where
Nees no sooner had set Footing,
But, over-joy'd, he fell a Hooting;
So proud he Stalk'd, upon the sudden,
Nees hardly knew the Ground he stood on:
And of his Senses half bereaven,
Swore a great Oath, he was in Heaven.
Wandring till now, without a Spark,
Groaping for
Shela in the Dark;
So late Redeem'd from smoaky Huts,
Their Eyes were dazled with the Sluts;
For here the Old
Old Rogues
Sculloques were all
(y) In a large Field as warm as Wooll;
And had (exempted from our Cares,)
(z) Their own, both Sun, and Moon, and Stars.
[Page 101]A Slut supplies the place of Candle,
In Socket of split Deal, for Handle:
With Rushes steept in Kitchin-Scurf,
And stuck in Candlestick of Turf:
And Fire enough to Tost their Nose.
Some Exercise, and some Repose;
On Rushes some, and some on Pallets;
Some Vermin pick, and some pick Sallets:
Some pace the Whip, some trot the
A Dance.
Hay,Some at their Beads, and some
(a) at play.
Have you, in the gay Town of
Lusk,
Observ'd their Sports about the Dusk
Of
Patrons-Eve, when all the Rout
Of Raggamuffins flock about;
Men, Maids, and Children, Dogs and all,
To Celebrate the Festival;
[Page 102]So were they here assembled from
Each Corner of the Nation; some
Of every Rank, and had the Rogues
(b) A Thousand merry gay
Sports.
Gamshogues.The Old Men play'd at Blindman-Buff,
Some Roast Pottados, some grind Snuff:
At five Cards some, some wipe out scores
At One and Thirty, and All-Fours.
The Priests that Lodge upon this Common,
Do play at Irish, and Bac-Gammon;
For Prayers, for Kisses, and for Beads,
For Masses, and for Maiden-heads:
The Lay-men Box, and Fight, and Wrestle;
And some make Ropes of Twisted
Gads.
Hasle.
(c) Some Trip a Dance upon the Grass,
And every
Bore.
Culleen has his Lass:
[Page 103]All Excercised, great and small,
All at some Game, and some at all:
For all were Gentlemen that play'd,
Not any one that had a
Teague a
Trade! Il-lillil-loo.
Trade.E're in Mechanicks
Teague wou'd Toil,
He'd run for sixpence forty Mile.
Playing all Weathers at the Clarsey:
The Irish Harp, whose rusty Mettle,
Sounds like the patching of a Kettle.
Margery Cree
Mageen, yea, and be he cou'd play,
Lilly-Boleer, Bulleen a la;
Skipping of
Towns in Fingaul.
Gort, tripping of
Swords,Frisk of
Baldoil best he affords:
And for Variety
Cronaans,
Ports
Lessons,
and
Portrinkes,
Jiggs,
and
Strin-kans.
[Page 104]They had no Anthems for to Chuse,
Their Hallelujes, were
Hull-lil-loos:
And so as merry as the day
Is long, they past the Time away:
(e) Here did the Antient Heroes grace
The Warriers of former days.
Limbus Hero
[...]um.
Sons of Miletus.
Heber, and
Hereman,
Son of Heremon.
Nynvillagh,de Danam,
3d.
Conqueror of Ireland,
he overcame Fervolg,
and 100000 men in one Battle.
Twathy de Dane, and
Neil
of the Nine Hostages of 9 Kingdoms.
Neil, Noyhillagh,
Son of Fin-Mac-Heul.
Eoghy O Finn, and
A famous Giant.
Cahir Moro,Con Kedcagh,
so called from 100 Battels he fought.
Con Kedcagh, yea and
Bryan Boro, more famous than all his Predecessors.
Bryan Boro,Miletus,
Father of Heberbane,
first Inhabitant of Ireland;
whence the Irish
are called Clonna Mile. Toby O Flannagan Moulin,
and Mulrony, O Mulconry.
And great
(f)
O Mile, that was the firstOf all our Nation, here was thrust:
[Page 105]Was
Nees great Wonder make on a'me,
To see the Rebels look so tame.
Stalking about the Bogs and Moors,
Together with their Dogs and Whores;
Without a Rag, Trouses, or Brogues,
Picking of Sorrel and Sham-rogues:
Their war-like
(g) Horses grazing round about,
And bloody Clubs fixt in the Ground about;
That fertile Ground, where the tall Grass
Did grow too fast upon the Place,
Should you o're Night a Gelding turn in,
You'd hardly find him the next Morning:
For whatsoe're they fancy'd most,
Thieving or War, the
Little.
donny Ghost,Now they were dead, with the same Vigour,
Did imitate in Mood and Figure.
[Page 106]
Shela, as soon as she espy'd
The Men and Horses by their side,
Did swear she wou'd be after riding,
And strait did mount the Saddle striding:
Her Mill-posts, one, on either side
In Gad, for Stirrup, she had ty'd.
On t'other side a Rope
Straw.
Suggain,With Girt and Hoosings o're the Main;
Bridle and Crupper too, where
Nees
Was got behind with bended Knees;
Digging i'th' Flank, with a
Thorn.
Spologue,In place of Spurs, stuck in his Brogue:
Tho all that they cou'd do, cou'd not
Put Dapple out of wonted Trot;
For tho from hence they sought relief,
Yet was the Jade not very
Swift. Blind.
brief,Nor very sure; for she was bleend,
And lame of the fore-Leg beheend;
[Page 107]The better sure for that Disaster,
Who cou'd not over-run her Master;
And for her being Blind, they say,
She had less blame to lose her way:
T'her Feet sh'ad neither Shoes nor Clogs,
The fitter then to trot the Bogs:
Nor one Tooth left, she was so old,
For that the wiser
Nees was told.
And glad he was, amongst the Colts,
To take the Jade with all her Faults.
In such an unfrequented Coast,
Who gain'd some way by riding Post.
Till the base Jade did let a Fart,
Which made 'em light, and Cursing, part.
To the next
Limbo Nees did pack,
Bearing his Saddle on his back;
Cursing by Candle, Book, and Bell,
The Mare was glad she scap'd so well;
[Page 108]For now a brace of Beggars mounted,
To make the Proverb good, she counted;
And hardly thought they'd been so civil,
But rid directly to the Devil,
(h) Here round about the Mountain-Hogs,
He saw them wallowing in the Bogs;
Some at the
Irish-Trot, some pacing,
And some were with the Beasts a grazing:
They drank a Health to th' Nations Glory,
Singing old
Rose, and
Tory Rory:
In Adoration of Saint
Patrick.
(k) Here all that fought in Vindication
Of
Shamrog-shire, made Habitation.
The Champions of the
Irish Cause,
A numerous Train of
Mac's and
O's,
[Page 109]Whom the
Monsieur, by treacherous Art,
Had cram'd into this Malapert.
Here Chaster Priests, and Fryars truckle,
Who never made Confessant Cuckold:
With Rimers here, had their Abodes;
And Bards, who made their
Patrons Gods,
(l) Where every one had on his Brow
A Lawrell made of twisted Straw;
Suggane.
Shela, (that now had got amongst 'em,
And to be gone, thinking it longson,)
Crys out, upon the sudden, you Rogues,
(m) Where is this Fellow, Goodmen two
Brogues?
She ask'd them round the Square with
Nees,
Where is this
Guddihang, Anchees?
(n) But of
Son to great Ossin,
who was Son to Fin-Mac-Heul.
His Stature was 145 Cupids,
if you will believe O Flannagan, O Sullevan, Mulrony Collonan,
and the rest of their Authentick Legenders.
Mack-Muse, above the Rest,Exalted by the Head and Crest.
[Page 110]To' his Stature, out of meer Regard,
Made Captain of the Sable Guard.
Nees, who with Gazing lost his Eyes,
Thought him the fittest, to Advice:
Till
Shela, who was most intent,
Thus past her Cloyster Complement.
(o) I prethee Joy, if thou hast Leasure,
I beg thou wilt do me the Pleasure,
To do the Grace, to do the Favour,
To do the Kindness, for this Knave here,
That we may see
Anchees; the Lad
Came only here to see his Dad.
Since Soldiering will do no Grace,
To get in Hell, an Evidence-Place;
For his time moves, on Rusty Wheels,
Much in the Elbows, out at Heels:
[Page 111]Which Loss his Highness wou'd Repair,
By having Liberty to Swear;
And thou wilt much oblige poor
Nees,
To shew him to the Plot-Of-fice:
This favour
Nees, and
Shela Begs,
For we are weary of our Legs.
(p) To which the tall Red-Beard Reply'd,
Clo
[...]e Derg Carret-pate.
Dear Joy, Thou comes on the Blind-side;
For we have neither House nor Home,
Nor any thing, to call our Own:
But live like Flies, in Bogs and Bushes,
And make our Beds on Banks of Rushes,
Or at the Fire-side, where we
Ly all, Hickelty-Pickelty.
Nor has the most Notorious Tory,
T' his humble Crate, one single Story:
[Page 112]Garret nor Stare-case (which is Sadder)
To Climb up, on an
A pair of Stairs.
English Ladder;Where one low Gate to the first Floor,
Serves both for Chimney, and for Door:
Dis is so like our Shamrog-sheer,
Says Nees,
Dou art my own Bro-deer.
Sheet on de Hous vid two three Story,
Give me de Vood for Tief and Tory;
And be is Nees
tink dis more Comely,
For Home is Home, tho' nere so Homely:
Cou'd I but see de Old
Bore.
Sculloge,
Tho' he had neider Trous nor Brogue;
But cast an Eye upon de Elf,
Vhile my own Eye is vid my self;
Let Nees
be
Beat.
frapt, and suffer Rack,
Be
Cut to peices.
Spleee'd to Spoles, and damn'd as Black
As
Next the Heart, nearest the Mouth,
Butter-milk, if ere I mean
To Stray so far from Home again.
[Page 113]
(q) Nay, if your longing be so great,
Mac-Muse, you shall no more intreat;
(r) Stride up with me this tall Moun-tain,
And I will put you in the Lane:
Thus said, the Neighbouring-Fields he shows,
Bidding them follow on their Nose;
And that wou'd lead 'em to the Place,
Where they might soon behold his Grace.
Nees, glad to hear o'th' Old
Scull-oge,
Did kiss his
Thumb.
Tumb, and
Made a Legg.
scrape a
Brogue;Which done, scarce had he star'd about,
When, as he said, it so fell out:
[Page 114]In a green-Arbour, reaping all
His Kit, and Kin, both great and small;
Their Hanging, and unlucky Fate,
Were Maggots of his doating Pate:
And their high Breeding, from the Fountains
Of Art, the Woods, and Boggs and Mountains.
(u) But when he saw the Couple Posting,
Throw the Green-Meddows to accost 'him;
(w) Clapping his hands, set up the Howl,
For all his Gouts, a Joyfull Soul:
To see 'em Trotting to'ards his Grace,
And to his Legs he got a pace.
Propt on his Staff, came Hops, and Jumps,
Now on his hands, now on his Stumps;
[Page 115]And sometimes on all four did leap;
For kind will go, when't cannot creep.
Thus struggling, till at length he laid
His Palsy Hands upon his Head;
But so surpriz'd to see the Mawkin,
(x) He cou'd not speak one word for Talking:
At which a Shower of Tears, as Proof
Of further kindness mixt, with Snuff,
Came Running down his Beard so pleasing,
Which set his Gravity a Sneezing:
At which the
Nun did Cross her Face;
And
Nees did say,
God save his Grace:
This way his Passion finding Vent,
The Youth he thus did Complement.
(y) And art thou come at last my
Rogue?
And all to see an Old
Sculloge?
[Page 116]Art thou alive? see I thy Face,
Is this thy Voice I hear? The Grace
Of thy Discourse, able to turn
To
Buttermilk.
Bonnaclabber a whole Churn;I ever thought it wou'd be so
Nees,
And now thou'rt better than thy promise:
(z) But prethee,
Nees, what part o'th' World
Art thou come from? Whence art thou hurrl'd?
Tell me
(a) (my Dear Joy) how goes Squares?
And all the State of thy Affairs?
Lest thou wast Hang'd, I Vow and Swear,
Nees, I was in a pack of Fear.
Whether by
French, or
Dutch thou fell,
English or
Scotch, I cou'd not tell;
And therefore now I beg to tell,
What Wind 'twas drove thee into Hell.
I'll tell it fat vas bring it dere me?
Is dis vas make me in dis Place,
Only to see dy own sweet Face:
(c)
De Fleet on Curragh of Kilmore,
Burnt by de Scotch upon de Shore.
But now (Dear Joy) my own Fa-deer,
Since me have met so lucky here;
(d)
Give me dy Paw, and let us shake
Our Hands, for old Acquaintance sake:
So taking Snuff, he made wry Faces,
(e) And both together wept their Graces.
(f) Here
Nees, with gentle Shoulder Shrug,
Began to give the
Irish-Hug.
[Page 118]Thrice did he fold his longing Arms,
Thrice he in vain bestow'd his Charms;
For the pale Ghost, without more ado,
Did vanish like an empty Shadow:
And flew as swift as any Bat,
Before an Ear cou'd lick her Cat.
Here in his Complement he faulter'd;
For with
Anchees the Case was alter'd;
And tho' he was his next a Kin,
What but the Cat can ye have o'th' Skin.
(g)
Nees, in the mean, espi'd a Wood,
That with a Bog surrounded stood;
Planted with Pallaces of Pleasure,
And Orchards rich with
Irish-Treasure;
Garlick, and Leeks, Pottado-Roots,
With Bilberrys, and Hasle-Nuts.
[Page 119]
(h) Incompass'd with a River, where
All Folks resorted far and near.
Have you beheld, when people pray
At Saint
John's Well on
Patron-day,
In the North.
By Charm of Priest and Miracle,
To cure Diseases at this Well;
The Valleys fill'd with Blind and Lame,
And go as Limping as they came:
Just so this Raggamuffin Rout,
(Flocking an hundred Miles about)
From every Pole and Chantlet run,
As thick as Atoms in the Sun.
(i) The Prince at this began to stammer,
And could not rest, the Ninnihammer,
Until he knew a Reason why
Those Troops about the Banks did ly;
[Page 120]And till
Anchyses did deliver
All the deep Mysteries of the River.
(k) Have you not heard of such a Man,
(Says he) cou'd turn the Cat in Pan?
That cou'd, to his Immortal Glory,
Transform a
Whig into a
Tory?
A Favourite make of a
King-hater,
And form a
Jesuit of a
Quaker?
That valu'd not his Friends to lose 'em,
And hug'd the Vipers in his Bosom:
Cou'd turn a Monarch to a Mouse,
Transform a Taylor to a Louse:
And turn a Nation out of door,
And turn himself out of Three more:
That cou'd a Bullet, at his like,
Anabaptize into a Pike;
[Page 121]Transform a Buzzard to a Bird,
And turn a Custard to a T—
And Wine to Water, (some say Piss,)
And all by
Met
[...]mseuchosis.
O-o-ogh (says
Nees.)
And be, I fear me;
(I tink) dou'rt after ask to jear me.
Hast thou not heard, thou simple Ass,
Says he, of Old
Pythagoras?
And be, not I in all my Leef,
I'le chance upon him for a Teef:
Fere shou'd I hear of him, I tro,
He was not born at Lusk—
—Oh! no:
But if thou wilt forbear thy Blunder,
I will unriddle all the Wonder.
(y) Those Granadeers, that flock about
From Hill to Plain since the last Rout,
Drink Daries dry, and stroke the Cattle;
Steal Sucklings, and thro' Key-holes sling,
Topeing, and dancing in a Ring;
Of
Lethe take so large a Douse,
And long Oblivion-Cups Carouze.
Eternal Imps, that drink and sot,
Till what they Are they have forgot:
Their former Notions gone, the Fairies
Transform to Rats and Mice in Dairies;
As if this Body he should force
To be transform'd into a Horse▪
I'm not thy Father as I was,
But an irrational dull Ass;
A very Mungrel of a Stallion,
A Metamorphosed
Fingallion.
This I thought good to tell thee first,
That thou may'st know the Devil's just.
[Page 123]Now to our Race, that thou may'st more
Rejoyce, when all the Mischief's o're.
(z) Thus said, unto a Mount his Son
He leads, together with the Nun.
Where all the Woods and Valleys rung on'em,
And plac'd him in the very throng on'em:
That every one might flock to see,
And know what News in
Tripoly.
(a) Now to't, my Son, now comes the Story
Of all thy Race, thy Nations Glory:
The Kings that did, and hence shall shine,
Descended from
Mac Heber's Line;
I'le read in History a short one,
And eke declare thee all thy Fortune.
(Fierce as a Wolf, bold as a Lyon)
That leans upon his bloody Lance,
He is the first begins the Dance:
And by a Massacre shall rise out,
To feed the Crows, shall pick his Eyes out;
Phelim O Neal.
Phelim the
Kern, began the Wars,Descended from the
Highlanders;
Born and bred up amongst the Woods,
And savage as the Mountain Studs:
By
Lavin spawnd amongst the Bogs,
To be a Rogue from Race of Rogues.
The next deserves our Commendation,
De Burgo.
Is
Bork, the Glory of our Nation;
(c) And young
Enees, Mac Nees, the same
Enees, that shall Restore thy Name:
[Page 125]The Wood-kern,
Nees, (whom I'le maintain) as
Egregious a Rogue in grain, as
Is
Nees himself; and, let me tell you,
Will make as terrible a Fellow;
If he to get can once prevail
A Foot within the
English Pale;
The Desperado's how they run!
And tempt the Fates to be undone!
And tho' they've scarce an Ounce of Snuff,
Yet will the
Bully Ruffins huff.
But those you see so richly drest,
With Civil Horns upon their Crest;
The Cuckold's Wreath, shall Crown 'em then,
Are Citizens and Aldermen:
With States-men, Chancellors, and Judges,
Fitton, Nangle,
&c.
On purpose chose to be our Drudges:
Who Laws and Statutes shall Invent,
To Work an
Irish Settlement.
[Page 126]
(d) But e're a total Restauration
Do heal the Ruptures of this Nation;
In
Britain shall a Monarch Reign,
Will bring this Nation to the Wain;
Whom
Ilia shall in
England bear,
That shall extend his Scepter here;
Who (by a Usurpation bold,)
Shall lose his Land.
Oliver Crom.
Behold, behold,A double Crown Impales his Brow,
Who was both King and Prophet too:
In Heaven, whom Almighty
Jove,
Shall honour with a Crown above;
The Power of this Dominion;
[Page 127]
(g) In Moats and Walls, enclosing▪ then
Co
[...]k-bill, Cock-hill.
St. Nicholas
and Paulgate, Conduit-Hill,
and the two Hills of Keisers,
and School-house Lane.
Seven Hills, possest with valiant men;As Virgin-Lady Crown'd does ride,
Thro'
Dublin-City, by whose side
An hundred Gods, for Lackeys run,
Lackeys, for
They were Irish.
Trades these Gods had none.Their chiefest work shall be their Sport,
To breed Dissention at the Court;
Where they shall never cease to flock,
Till they have brought his Head to'th' Block.
Thus shall he fall, and to his Son▪
He shall bequeath an empty Throne:
(h) Which e're he fills, must banisht, Toyl,
For Laurels in a Foreign Soyl:
[Page 128]Thence, with Majestick Glory born,
With greater Triumph shall return;
Whose Restauration-Day, the Head
Of Rump and Regicides do dread:
And though poor
Ireland hopes in vain,
'Twill ne're be Ours, while He does Reign.
(i) A
Court of Claiming he shall call,
Poor
Teague again is out of All:
His Claim rejected, and his Lands
Restor'd into the
English hands.
Nor dare a Nocent-Rebel once stir,
In
Ʋlster, Connaught, Mead, or
Munster;
The
Irish Glory so departed,
And poor
Enees so quite dead-hearted;
That he has hardly left a Groat,
To pay for cutting
English-Throat.
[Page 129]The Hereticks shall sit at helm,
And rule (while he does Reign) the Realm;
Shall bear on Breast the Royal Stamp,
All Offices in Court and Camp.
So that poor
Nees shall not be able,
To put in for a Cones-table:
But still to make his own Life easie,
He shall do all he can to please ye;
Who was, had he
Teagues Cause maintain
[...]d,
The best of Kings that ever Reign'd.
He dead,
(k) his Brother mounts the Throne,
[...]nd once more
Ireland is our own.
[...]ie
Petre now shall bear the sway,
[...]nd Popery shall come in play:
[...]e shall new model all the Nation,
[...]om College unto Corporation:
[Page 130]To former plight he shall transplant us,
By
Mandats, Briefs, and
Quo Warranto's.
Gospel and Law shall trample o're,
By a Supreme Dispensing Power:
If any jealous Lord oppose it,
Shall purge in Inquisition Closet;
And by his Will, which is his Law,
Shall keep the Hereticks in awe:
In spite of Law, shall do his best
To take off
Penal, and the
Test;
And for the Freedom of our Nation,
Shall make an
Act of Toleration;
Where all may have their Liberty
To go to Hell as well as Thee.
Shall turn the Nobles in disgrace,
For
Teague and
Rory to make place;
Turning, (
Ill omen of his Fall)
'Till he himself turn out of all:
[Page 131]Of Promise-making-Kings the best,
'Till over-ridden by the Priest;
Which turn'd the Helm into a
Helm.
PaddleAnd threw great
J
[...]s out of the Saddle.
Wonders shall Chronicle his Reign,
A Wilderness shall cross the Main.
The
Belgick-Lyon then shall keep
From
Roman Wolf the abandon'd Sheep.
A Sun shall rise up in the
West,
That over-cast shall set i'th'
East;
Deserted by his chief Commanders,
Frighted with
Bear-skins, and
Fin-landers;
Shall, with the scampering Court withdrawn,
Leave there an Abdicated Throne:
When he has fixt his
French Intrigue,
Shall for protection fly to
Teague:
Where
French and
Irish Officers
Shall fall together by the ears.
[Page 132]
Monsieur shall fight, his Own to hold;
Teague, to retrieve his Country sold:
Till Frog and Mouse in bloody wrath,
The Stork shall come and swallow both:
The
Belgian Stork without a stroke,
(That Nests within the Royal Oak,)
Shall drive the Locust from our shore,
And name of
Nees, shall be no more▪
But now our Forces overthrown,
And
Nees, with
Abdicated, flown;
On a new Sun fix both thine Eyes,
Exalted in the
British Skies:
Who timely through the Tempest broke,
An
Orange grafted on the Oke.
Whose Juice the
English Hearts shall cheer,
And shall diffuse it's Vertue here;
(l)
[Page 133]Destroying Popish Priests and Steeple,
And worst of Vermin here, the People:
Where ere an
Orange comes in place,
Poor
Nees shall make a sowre Face:
In's Stomach stick, which to the rest
Shall be a Cordial to digest.
(m) This, this is He, the War-like Prince,
Heaven promis'd long in their Defence;
Englands Augustus, who shall be
The Subject of Chronology:
Who, plac'd upon the
British Throne,
Shall make poor
Nees to sing,
O hone!
(n) Sent from Above; who shall restore
The
Dagon they so much adore.
From Yoke of
Pagan Slavery;
And rescue from th'impending shower
Of Priest, and Arbitrary Power.
(p) His boundless Empire shall advance
From larger
Britain over
France:
Nor shall the
Blacks, or
Indian Shore,
Set Limits to his Naval Power.
(q) Beyond the Seas, not far Remote,
There lies a little Lowland Spot;
In Farm from
Neptune, which shall be
Of this great
Mars the Nursery.
Thence, by a Solemn Invitation,
Shall make a
Second Reformation:
[Page 135]Who swifter Wing'd than flying Fame,
And silent as the Night he came;
Shall, without noise of Proclamation,
Bring swift Deliverance to that Nation.
Whose Amunition's like white Powder,
Nor are his Publick Triumphs lowder;
Which, wheresoe're the stroaks Rebound,
Does Execution without Sound.
Without a word bring home the Fleece
Of
Jason, or a Fleet to
Greece.
(ſ) The Court, and many a Pagan Peer,
With the lost Monarch sculk for fear;
Who bleeds e're he Receives a Wound,
Cares, Doubts, and Jealousies abound:
Proud
Modena, from
Albion Banisht,
Shall (with her young Impostor vanisht;)
[Page 136]Fly o're to
France, to Shield her Honour
By Him whose Counsels have undone her.
The Holy Fathers and the Monks,
Shall scour with their Religious Punks;
Their Reliques, Crosses, Cowls and Fringes,
Shall with our Church be off the Hinges:
The Fools, who did not timely scower,
Shall Plot in
Newgate, and the
Tower.
(t) Nor did
Alcide e're undertake
So great a Task for Virtues sake;
Or half so much attempted he
To set a Captive-Nation free,
Tho' the swift
Stag he did subdue,
And with his Shaft the
Hydra slew.
Nor
Bacchus, who joynt Tygers sent
In Chains, from
Nysa's steep Descent;
[Page 137]
(u) And shall we doubt such Vertue lacks
Courage adequat to his Facts?
(w) Or fear diswade the Son of
Jove,
His Title to this Land to prove;
Whose Conquest, in dispite of Foes,
(Let
Teague and
Monsieur Interpose)
This Government shall still retain,
While Kings in
British Isles do Raign?
And now behold the petty Kings,
That more remote this story sings;
Who by Invasion, and strong hand,
Shall play the Devil in this Land.
But voe is dat same
Cohil clovederg, Anglice Cohil the Red. K. of
Ireland; so says
Mulconry; but Mulrony, who is a more Authentick Historian, affirms, it alludes to
de Coursey.
Cuckold born,(
Says Nees)
whose Head is stuck vid horne?
(x)
And be I know de Culleen, fate,
By his Red Beard, and Carret Pate:
[Page 138]
Must he come in? so great a Rogue?
Then every Day must have his Dog.
This, says
Anchyses, is the first,
Shall Laws ordain t'encourage Lust?
(y) Advanc'd a King, the Beggers Brat,
From a small Crate, and Garden-plat.
Who of this Land the lazy Custom
Shall break, and into Arms shall thrust 'em
Those silly Troops, not us'd, God knows,
So oft to Triumphs, as to Blows.
(z) The next of Valour, that gives proof,
Mac-Ancy, a vain-glorious Huff;
A swelling Bladder, since his Death,
Blown with the Wind of popular Breath.
[Page 139]
(a) Wilt thou the Kings of
Miletus, Father of all the Kings of
Ireland; whence the
Irish are called
Clonna-Mile. Ger. Cambrensis.
Clonna-MileBehold, that hence shall rule this Isle;
The haughty mind, and all the Rout
Of the Revengeful,
This is
Ed. de la Bruce, who in the year of
Ed. 2d. stiled himself King of
Ireland. Baron
Finglus, and Sir
John Davis of the State of
Ireland.
de La Brute!The first that shall assume the power,
With
Tory Troops the Bogs to scower;
And send an Army of Commanders,
To fight the
Britains, and
Low-Landers:
(b) Behold the
The
Decys, an ancient Family in
Ireland; they opposed
Tyrone's Rebellion in
Munster; and were always Friends to the
English Interest, till now.
Decy's, far and near,And
Drusye's in their Ranks appear;
Mac-Tory-Quat, and Ensign
Camill,
With
Madoge sharp, to cut off
Mamill;
Or strip the Infant from the VVomb,
[Page 140]Or spin their Guts out, being bound
First to a Tree, and then whipt round:
(e) Nor shall in this their fury cease,
The Cruelty committed by the
Irish Rebels upon the
English.
Till they make Candles of their Grease:
Stab, Hang, or Burn 'em, Damn, and Curse,
Without Compassion, or Remorse:
In Houses, Churches, or the Roads,
To clear the Land of
English Toads;
Shall slay their Sheep,
Upon their Sheep and Cattle.
(the Fury Elves,)And burn their Barnes, to starve themselves:
If but a Cow shall set up Tone
In any Language but our own,
As an Infringement of our Charter,
They shall condemn to present Slaughter.
(f) VVhat Bloody Wars, what Dire Infections?
VVhat Murders, Plots, and Insurrections;
[Page 141]Will these men cause, when cross the Ferry,
They bend their Troops to
London-Derry?
Sending their fierce Battalions forth,
Against the Rebels in the
North?
And then like a swift Inundation,
Threaten the
Scot with an Invasion.
(g) Boys! Boys! be not so hot to sin,
And learn to sleep in a whole Skin.
(h) But thou thy Country-men mayst spare,
Was Born thy self in
Shamrogshire.
The rest,
Nees, throw thy Club at
Them.
'ame,And make 'em run away for shame.
(i) He with his
Hugh buey O Neal.
Provinder and Laggage,O're top of
Altitudines ultoniae. Gen▪ Cambren.
Ardes shall draw his Baggage.That Prodigal so fiercely stood,
In the expence of
British Blood.
And all the
English Lords displace.
King — n himself shall melt his Wings,
The war-like Off-spring of the Kings.
Stout
Bl — y too shall feel our Blows,
Those Champions of the
English Cause.
Many, with
Inch — n, shall fly
To
England, for a fresh supply.
Their Goods Sequester'd and their Lands
Restor'd into the Owners hands;
(l) To be reveng'd upon his Pate,
That kept poor
Nees from his Estate:
But when they Land at
Derry-Bay,
Let
Nees expect a bloody day.
(m) Who can forget the Learned
Cato,
This is Cormack Mac Art, styled, the Cato of Ireland.
He writ a Treatise of the Vertues of a Pottado, beyond the Wisdom of Solomon, the Knowledge of Aristotle, the Rhetorick of Cicero. Con. Clerenaugh, and Mureartagh O Collegan.
That writ so much on a Pottado;
[Page 143]Who cramm'd in every Page four Columns,
Six of
Poor Robin's single Volumns.
At the
(n)
Mac-Graths, who can but wonder,
(o) Or the two
Burks, those Sons of Thunder?
That base Bastard, and proud Beg-geer.
Or
Serany, Son of a Pander,
Rais'd from the Plow to a Commander;
(q) Kickt meerly out of merit up,
From Tail of Horse, to Head of Troop?
Whose famous Deeds recorded may be,
Who shall retrieve our Ruins best;
Thou art the Man of all the rest.
[Page 144]
(ſ) Then clapping▪ hands, as sign of wonder,
Behold (says he) that Son of Thunder,
Tyrconnel, with his Spoils possest,
The bravest King of all the rest.
His Haughtiness bred in the Bogs,
Shall call his Betters, Rogues and Dogs.
From Butchers Bratt, rais'd to a Peer,
To be a K. in
Shamrogshire.
(t) This Devil shall do that which no Man
Cou'd yet effect, restore the
Roman;
And in his time establish Popery,
Which
Curse ye Meroz calls a Foppery.
Chappels shall up, the Churches down,
And all the Land shall be our own.
He shall secure our Title here,
By a Rebellion in each Sheir,
[Page 145]An Army shall Collect the Rent,
Confirm our Rights by
Parliament.
The
Act of Settlement shall bate,
And
Nees shall get his own Estate,
If by the
Monsieur not supplanted,
Who for a Sum has Covenanted;
And both their Interests be not lost
By the prevailing
British Host.
(u) He shall subdue the
Heretick,
To bring in trusty
Catholick.
Humble the Peer, Exalt the Peasant,
Without Assize of damage-Feisant.
And shall advance the meanest sort
To highest place of Camp and Court:
All shall be common as before;
No more shall Justices, no more
[Page 146]Shall Court of Claims, or Council-Table,
Or Formidon, be formidable.
Drink down Excise, know no Committe,
But Routs and Riots in each City;
Cut Throats; in Massacre skill'd well;
And Plunder, tho' it were in Hell.
Thus shall he rule the Rebel Rout,
Till by the
Monsieur josled out;
Reduc'd to such a low Condition,
He shan't to Curse have a Commission.
Yet tho' his short insulting be
But a continu'd Tyranny,
All Articles he shall defie,
Sheridon's Case.
And none shall say, black is his Eye.
(w) But here
Enees had now espy'd
A gay young Spark march by his side,
Mark Tal— his Bastard Son.
[Page 147]In a Blue Scarlet Coat did shine,
And Yellow Trouses, wondrous fine.
He had a Scarf about his Arse,
Edg'd with White Fringe of Yellow Lace:
His Cap with Plume of Feathers set,
Sent from the Pullets of
Lorett:
His Wig St.
Peter's Hairs did bless,
A Present from his Holiness.
His Crevat, flower'd o're with Snuff,
Made of the Virgin
Mary's Ruff;
So finely drest, that you would deem,
'Twould do a Blind-man good to see him.
Valks vid his Fader Cheek by Jowl?
Is it his Son, or Bastard Heir,
Or some gay Irish
Officere?
(z)
O hone! How like the Fader is he?
And be so like, sure as a Gun,
De Fader is his very Son.
But now the Night, like thickning Smoak
That dwells in
Crates, possession took
O'th' Firmament, when he begun,
With weeping, thus t' advise his Son.
To know thy Countrey-mens misfortune,
That will befal them by Adventurers,
By
English, Dutch, and
Scotch Debenturers:
Our Lands possest, we put to rout,
By two Brigades of Horse and Foot:
[Page 149]Transported some, and some Transplanted,
Whilst the prevailing Party Ranted.
Till he's restor'd, with all his Train:
But here's the Devil on't again;
(b) The Fates will only shew his Reign,
To hope for more, is but in vain.
(c) The
Roman Tribe would be too strong,
If this good luck should last too long.
How many Gallant Troops, this Sot
Will he Condemn unto the Pot?
How many fitter to Command,
And Soldiers too, will he Disband?
And carry on the sly Intrigue,
To make a Vacancy for
Teague.
(d) And truly,
Nees, there's ne'er a one
For us to crack of, when he's gone;
[Page 150]Not one, like Him, will e'er appear
Again, to grow in
Shamrogeshire.
(e)
Ʋbboo! Ʋbboo! A Pack of Cards,
The Good Old Faith, which none Regards:
The Shams, the Dice, and wondrous Flight▪
This Lord will manifest in Fight.
(f) Whither a Donny Musque-teer,
Or
Guddihang of a Troo-peer.
Not one shall meet him, not a Man,
But he will shun him, if he can.
(g) Now
Nees, (poor Boy) had'st thou the Pate
To overcome thy harder Fate;
'Tis
Nees alone, 'tis only He,
Tyrconnel, my White Boy shall be.
The hopes of all thy Family:
Bring me a Bunch of
Suggane Ropes,
Of
Shamroges, and
Pottado-Tops:
With Pig-tail, steep'd in Chamber-Lees,
To make a Lawrel for
Enees;
With Crevat-string of Wattle-Twist;
Confess thy last unto the Priest:
Lilli-bo-lero, lero sing,
Tyrconnel is no longer K —
(i) So hooting through the Woods, they sate
To light a Pipe at the next Crate;
Dy'd through with Smoak, the spacious Bowl,
Out of meer Providence▪ kept foul;
When
Nees of Funk had ne'er a Corn,
Wou'd, fier'd, like a Chimney burn:
[Page 152]The Smoak went round, which they did draw
Thro' supplemental Foot of Straw.
T' enlarge the Head, which lighted shows,
Like a Carbuncle on the Nose;
Left by his Sire, a Legacy,
The Jewel of all the Family.
(k) Last, after he had led his Son
From Crate to Cabbin, with the Nun,
Expecting nothing but to sport on
The hopes of their succeeding Fortune:
He falls again to open War,
But there-withal he does declare;
How to prevent it, where, and when,
He does demonstrate there, and then.
[Page 153]In short, it was to run away;
Which said, he had no more to say.
(l) There are two famous Gates of Sleep,
Through which all Maggot Dreams do creep,
As nimble Hocus, and Hobgoblin,
Thro' Creeks, and Key-holes, use to hobble in.
The first whereof is built of Horn,
Through which all's true, that e're was born:
(m) The other made of Ivory,
The Sally-port of Forgery;
Where it no sooner makes a pother
In one Ear, but goes out at t'other.
[Page 154]
(n) Through which, when he had led 'em both,
Where (think you) should he let 'em forth,
But at the Horns? A subtil Mystery,
To ratifie our present History.
The Dream being out, they dropt a Mass,
And parted at
Peg-Trantom's Pass.
The old Man he return'd to Hell,
And
Shela, to Inchanted Cell;
To view his Soldiers in the Fleet:
O Sullevan.
Who, glad to see his Grace Restor'd,
With
Hil-lil-loo's the Harbour roar'd;
For to the Devil
Nees was gone,
And left his Men a Roguing on.
With the Fish growing at her Tail.
Some the
Unicorn.
Garrane, their Lodging made,With Barber's-pole upon his Head:
Others, at the next Sign below,
O'th'
Sarazens-Head.
Irish-man, y-crying
O-o-o-h!But
Nees, who had the Noblest place,
Lodg'd at the Sign of the
The Globe.
Ca-bash;The only House; (and 'twas a wonder,
Although in Hell) that scap'd their Plunder.
Nees, with his
Torys, now so gay,
Directs his Course to
Dublin-Bay;
But finding there, that things went so
(Manag'd by a worse Devil,
De
[...]a
[...]x.
Devo;)He chose, depriv'd of all his Glory,
To Scamper back to
Purgatory.
[Page 156]
(q) The Anchor ty'd with Cord of VVood,
He strait-way cast into the Mud;
Resolving thence to Travel by Land,
And all the
Cotts did ride on dry Land.