As had
cancelled
all former disasters ;
And your wives had been strumpets
To his highness's trumpets,
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OF MARVELL.
And your wives had been strumpets
To his highness's trumpets,
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OF MARVELL.
Marvell - Poems
V.
He ne'er knew, not he,
How to serve or be free.
Though he has passed through so many adven-
tures;
But e'er since he was bound,
(That is, he was crowned)
He has every day broke his indentui*es.
VI.
He spends all his days
In running to plays,
When he ought in his shop to be poring ;
And he wastes all his nights
In his constant delights,
Of revelling, drinking, and whoring.
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2S8 THE POEMS
VII.
Throughout Lombard-street,
Each roan he did meet,
He would i*un on the score with and borrow ;
When they asked for their own,
He was broke and was gone,
And his creditors all left to sorrow.
VIII.
Though oft bound to the peace.
Yet he never would cease
To vex his poor neighbours with quarrels ;
And when he was beat,
He still made his retreat
To his Clevelands, his Nells, and his Carwells.
Naj, his company lewd
Were twice grown so rude.
That had not fear taught him sobriety,
And the house being wcU barred.
With guard upon guard,
They 'd robbed us of all our propriety.
X.
Such a plot was laid,
Had not Ashley betrayed.
As had cancelled all former disasters ;
And your wives had been strumpets
To his highness's trumpets,
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OF MARVELL. 289
And footboys bad all been your masters.
XI.
So many are tbe debts,
And tbe bastards be gets,
Wbicb must all be defrayed by London ;
Tbat notwitbstanding the care
Of Sir Thomas Player,
The chamber must needs be undone.
XII.
His words or his oath
Cannot bind him to troth,
And he values not credit or history ;
And though he has served through
Two 'prenticeships now,
He knows not his trade nor his mystery.
xin.
Then,. London,, rejoice*
In thy fortunate choice.
To have him made free of thy spices;
And do not mistrust,
He may once grow more just.
When he 's worn off his follies and vices.
XIV.
And what little thing
Is that which you bring
To the Duke, the kingdom's darling ?
19
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290 THE POEMS
Ye hug it, and draw
Like ants at a straw,
Though too small for the gristle of sterling.
XV.
It is a hox of pills
To cure the Duke's ills ?