At five this morn, when Phoebus raised his head From Thetis' lap, I raised myself from bed, And mounting steed, I trotted to the waters The rendesvous of fools, buffoons, and praters, Cuckolds, whores, citizens, their wives and daughters.
From hence unto the upper walk I ran, Where a new scene of foppery began. A tribe of curates, priests, canonical elves, Fit company for none besides themselves, Were got together. Each his distemper told, Scurvy, stone, strangury; some were so bold To charge the spleen to be their misery, And on that wise disease brought infamy. But none had modesty enough t' complain Their want of learning, honesty, and brain, The general diseases of that train. These call themselves ambassadors of heaven, And saucily pretend commissions given; But should an Indian king, whose small command Seldom extends beyond ten miles of land, Send forth such wretched tools in an ambassage, He'd find but small effects of such a message. Listening, I found the cob of all this rabble Pert Bays, with his importance comfortable. He, being raised to an archdeaconry By trampling on religion, liberty, Was grown to great, and looked too fat and jolly, To be disturbed with care and melancholy, Though Marvell has enough exposed his folly. He drank to carry off some old remains His lazy dull distemper left in 's veins. Let him drink on, but 'tis not a whole flood Can give sufficient sweetness to his blood To make his nature of his manners good.
Next after these, a fulsome Irish crew Of silly Macs were offered to my view. The things did talk, but th' hearing what they said I did myself the kindness to evade. Nature has placed these wretches beneath scorn: They can't be called so vile as they are born. Amidst the crowd next I myself conveyed, For now were come, whitewash and paint being laid, Mother and daughter, mistress and the maid, And squire with wig and pantaloon displayed. But ne'er could conventicle, play, or fair For a true medley, with this herd compare. Here lords, knights, squires, ladies and countesses, Chandlers, mum-bacon women, sempstresses Were mixed together, nor did they agree More in their humors than their quality.
Here waiting for gallant, young damsel stood, Leaning on cane, and muffled up in hood. The would-be wit, whose business was to woo, With hat removed and solemn scrape of shoe Advanceth bowing, then genteelly shrugs, And ruffled foretop into order tugs, And thus accosts her: "Madam, methinks the weather Is grown much more serene since you came hither. You influence the heavens; but should the sun Withdraw himself to see his rays outdone By your bright eyes, they would supply the morn, And make a day before the day be born." With mouth screwed up, conceited winking eyes, And breasts thrust forward, "Lord, sir!" she replies. "It is your goodness, and not my deserts, Which makes you show this learning, wit, and parts." He, puzzled, butes his nail, both to display The sparkling ring, and think what next to say, And thus breaks forth afresh: "Madam, egad! Your luck at cards last night was very bad: At cribbage fifty-nine, and the next show To make the game, and yet to want those two. God damn me, madam, I'm the son of a whore If in my life I saw the like before!" To peddler's stall he drags her, and her breast With hearts and such-like foolish toys he dressed; And then, more smartly to expound the riddle Of all his prattle, gives her a Scotch fiddle.
Tired with this dismal stuff, away I ran Where were two wives, with girl just fit for man - Short-breathed, with pallid lips and visage wan. Some curtsies past, and the old compliment Of being glad to see each other, spent, With hand in hand they lovingly did walk, And one began thus to renew the talk: "I pray, good madam, if it may be thought No rudeness, what cause was it hither brought Your ladyship?" She soon replying, smiled, "We have a good estate, but have no child, And I'm informed these wells will make a barren Woman as fruitful as a cony warren." The first returned, "For this cause I am come, For I can have no quietness at home. My husband grumbles though we have got one, This poor young girl, and mutters for a son. And this is grieved with headache, pangs, and throes; Is full sixteen, and never yet had those." She soon replied, "Get her a husband, madam: I married at that age, and ne'er had 'em; Was just like her. Steel waters let alone: A back of steel will bring 'em better down." And ten to one but they themselves will try The same means to increase their family. Poor foolish fribble, who by subtlety Of midwife, truest friend to lechery, Persuaded art to be at pains and charge To give thy wife occasion to enlarge Thy silly head! For here walk Cuff and Kick, With brawny back and legs and potent prick, Who more substantially will cure thy wife, And on her half-dead womb bestow new life. From these the waters got the reputation Of good assistants unto generation.
Some warlike men were now got into th' throng, With hair tied back, singing a bawdy song. Not much afraid, I got a nearer view, And 'twas my chance to know the dreadful crew. They were cadets, that seldom can appear: Damned to the stint of thirty pounds a year. With hawk on fist, or greyhound led in hand, The dogs and footboys sometimes they command. But now, having trimmed a cast-off spavined horse, With three hard-pinched-for guineas in their purse, Two rusty pistols, scarf about the arse, Coat lined with red, they here presume to swell: This goes for captain, that for colonel. So the Bear Garden ape, on his steed mounted, No longer is a jackanapes accounted, But is, by virtue of his trumpery, then Called by the name of "the young gentleman."
Bless me! thought I, what thing is man, that thus In all his shapes, he is ridiculous? Ourselves with noise of reason we do please In vain: humanity's our worst disease. Thrice happy beasts are, who, because they be Of reason void, and so of foppery. Faith, I was so ashamed that with remorse I used the insolence to mount my horse; For he, doing only things fit for his nature, Did seem to me by much the wiser creature.