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A34243
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Lucida intervalla, containing divers miscellaneous poems, written at Finsbury and Bethlem by the Doctors patient extraordinary.
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Carkesse, James, fl. 1679.
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1679
(1679)
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Wing C577; ESTC R8004
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16,361
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72
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up the Church Is to pull down the Chappel o' th' Devil Then throw the House out at Window And lay it flat with the Ground For undoubtedly they Sin do That keep it another Year round The Doctor his Argument urges This Parson must needs be Mad For on him neither Vomits nor Purges Any Influence have had Fond Doctor you beg the Question And you might have spar'd your pains For my Blood 's from a good digestion And your Physick is lost in my Veins Nay I prescrib'd Chains of Iron To take him off of his Mettle But Brass did him environ He had rub'd his Face with a Kettle My Fetters they were but Straw To the Sinews of his Armes And he burst Bars and Doors as I saw By I know not what mighty Charmes Moreover I him in the Hole As under a Bushel confin'd Lest God's Word the Light of the Soul In my Mad-house should have Shin'd Ne're the less into the Dungeon He let in the Rayes of the Sun And i' th' Pit where him I did plunge in Made Night and Day meet in one In a place I did him stow Where Rats and Mice do swarm These by Instinct the Madmen know And therefore do them no harm Now as Weasel Squirrel and Ermine Are then Rats of a higher strain Rats and Mice the nobler Vermine Might awe the Worm in his Brain Yet he fear'd lest the Rats and Mice Of his Senses should bereave him Therefore I taking good advice Sent Catmore in to Relieve him I laid him in Straw for a Bed Lest Feathers should make him light-headed That there his wild Oats he might shed And again to his Wits be wedded Without either Shirt or Cloaths I lodg'd my merry Mad Youth For of Kin we may well suppose The Sober to Naked-Truth His Diet was most of it Milk To reduce him again to a Child And Butter as soft as Silk To smooth the Fierce and the Wild. My Potions he turn'd into Drenches For he freely would take ne're a jot But by Thomas and the Wenches They were forced down his Throat To feel his Pulse I never thought I a Month I see him but once And how my Mad Physick has wrought If I know in the least I 'm a Dunce For in Truth and sober sadness This Parson I found so smart That I fear'd his Wit more than his madness The March-Hare I never dare start My Chirurgeon he fiercely withstood And he led him such a Dance That to let this same Gown-man Blood A Sword was more fit than a Lance. I order'd his Keeper at Large On occasion to ply him with Blows That what Iugular did not discharge The mad Blood might come out at his Nose Enough Doc has done his Endeavour It must be confest though a weak one His Wits gather Wool for a Beaver But he 's no Fool to speak on However I 'le Sue out his Pardon The man 's not so much to be blam'd For to make a Swan white is unheard on And Sobriety never was tam'd Then pray all the mad-Devil ne're touch you Nor yet the Cholick or Tissick Pray MUFTI and MAMAMOUCHI Mr. Parson and Doctor of Physick His Apology Doctor you must where I severely Gibe To my Poetick Fury Gall ascribe And Pardon that I make in this New Trance Among your Rats and Mice my Satyre Dance Quod medicum mordace tuum mea Carmina vellant Dente tuus Vati donet Apollo furor Nec Mures inter poterit culpare Machaon Si Satyram jubeat jungere Musa Choros On his being Seiz'd on for a Mad-man only for having endeavoured to reduce Dissenters unto the CHURCH WHen Zeal for God inspires the Breast Says the Blind world the Man 's possest And flattering their own cold desire Call Lunacy the Heavenly Fire But though their Eyes are by the Flame So dasled they mistake the Name Know that 't was born with Christ at first In Bethlehem and at Bedlam Nurst To God the Father and the Son And Holy Spirit three in one By Men and Angels be there given All Glory both in Earth and Heaven On the late Horrid Plot. OF this late Hellish Damnable and to joyn Both in one word Papistical Design What Purgatory can wash out the Spot It shames and even blows up the Powder-Plot We therefore hope it is the last effort Of Popery dying in City and in Court And in this juncture that She times her end The Martyr Godfrey's Funeral to attend Fanaticism too which kept her Ground By Popish Policy dies o' th' self-same Wound Thus Martyrs Blood of old the Churches Seed In Corn grown up kills every noisom Weed May then the Church of England spight of Rom Receive new Life and Vigour from his Tomb And Conquering the joynt force of Her and He To Catholick Christian World with Triumph tell Infallibility is her self mistaken And treacherous Peter now by Christ forsake The Cross Match When Abigail by mistake had Layman Married In State Affairs 't was seen he oft miscarried Yet a long time Nub's Spouse put on no Gown But Hector'd it with Sword and Muff in Town Convinc'd at last though Poets him made a Farce on He 'd turn his Coat that Nab might have her Parson This done her Mar-text she suppos'd she had And when he talk'd of Preaching thought him Mad Down to the Conventicle brisk he goes Resolv'd to Rout the Church of Englands Foes But words were th' only Weapons of his War Love and Zeal led the Van no Wound or Scar From such a Skirmish fear none Blood can lose Where Church is nam'd for common Rendezvous Where Peace alone is aim'd at not a Fight Both sides to Yield and Forces Re-unite That England may for Caesars Triumphs hope A late Revenge on Rome by Conquer'd Pope But th' Enemy to frustrate this Designe Contrive Nab's Spouse to silence and confine This Trumpeter's Horn-mad they strait give out And making Nab o' th' Plot her Martext rout To Mad-Quack all agreed they him commit By Hellebore to restore his ne're lost Wit Quack hugs himself with the conceit secure He should great credit get by Parson's Cure To work he goes Proclaims him Mad at Court And spreads the Noise to make the City sport Then half a year the Patient keeps in hand A Chirurgeon's Son he is pray understand But now observe how basely Doc's defeated And for Mad-Parson with a Poet cheated By whom Lampoon'd mad-Quack is forc'd to say Madness and Wit act one part in the Play And thus these three Fanatick Wife and Doctor In Bedlam me to keep make up the Proctor Jackstraws Progress When Publican in Pharisees old house Shut doors on me and Finnesbury Mad Louse With Arms in sleeve of Gown redoubled stroke To open Bedlam-gates I windows broke Then in my Charet Triumphant Rode away As well assur'd that I had got the day That this had storm'd the Castle call'd Iackstraws Arch-Traytor unto Reason and her Laws 'T is nam'd from Bethlehem now possest by Turk '
Bedlam Heaven thought but find it Hell Darkness and Chains are here and Porter too Of Pluto's Court for without more ado Mathews the Body three Keepers three Heads mate And Cerberus make up at Bedlam-Gate Here I must treated be like Mad and Fop 'Till to the Monster I can give a Sop. Made the 13. of November Being a Fast-Day On Account of the Plot. WHen Heavens Frown and Clouds now big with Thunder Direct the fatal Bolt I can't but wonder We charge the Storm on Iesuite and Pope And fondly threaten Tyburn and the Rope Just as when Tempest in the Seas did rise And Neptune tost both Ships and them to Skies The huffing Xerxes lasht the Winds in vain And order'd Waves to fetter with a Chain The God of Heaven knows our sins our sins Hatch all the mischief there the Plot begins As they encrease the blackness from a hand Darkens the Sphear by the Almighty span'd Wash them away but with Repentant Tears Such flowing Streams an Ebb make in our fears What e're we think w' are in a safe condition By nothing more than a strict Inquisition Examine well your hearts and search your mind Sins with Granadoes chequer'd there you 'l find W' are Traytors to our selves our Lusts conspire The City new Rebuilt to set on fire Zeal for Gods Glory let it burn but high Destroying Flames will dwindle out and die Whatever ills we suffer be we sure Sin 's the Disease Repentance is the Cure That we may then Popes Bulls and Plots defie That Englands Church may haughty Romes outvie Let this our Ark in such a Deluge Swim As may from Weeping Eyes o'reflow the Brim The strongest Guardians to assure our fears Of Peters Successor are Peters Tears ON A Fanatick Ropemaker REligion you put on as Knaves their Cloak To hide your base designs you it bespoke Thus we remember how Old Noll did Pray That unsuspected Charles he might betray In the Lords Name 't is known begins all Evil His Livery you wear and serve the Devil Witness your heart and mouths flat contradiction By Hell-bred lies Truth turning into Fiction Witness poor Orphans hook't into your Net And then devour'd with greedy Appetite But my good friend be sure such Meat will choak you And Iustice both from God Man will smoak you Witness the cheating Practice in your Trade And selling Ocum when for Ropes you 're paid He that vents rotten Cables 'gainst all Law Iniquity with Cart-Ropes needs must draw The Pilot now may justly fear the Port And Rocks and Storms in open Ocean court But could I dip my Pen in Gall and Rancour I 'de scratch this Knave makes Ships unsafe at Anchor The Knave that 's Fool too one of fortunes minions A Hypocrite halting betwixt two Opinions Unheard of Villain forsook and left i' th' lurch Both by the Devils-Chappel and Gods Church New-England too that last and known retreat Of all the Brethren of the Holy Cheat You have abus'd they 'l banish you and Swear Th' Artificer's as rotten as his Ware If then no Place nor Party him receive He 's ripe for Tyburn that 's not fit to live Where when he 's Hang'd he may have some small hope To swing in one of 's Own and crack the Rope TO THE LADY IANE LEVISON GOWER AND Mrs. CATHERINE NEWPORT each giving him Six pence TWo Ladies here me Sixpence gave a piece I valued each above the Golden Fleece In One I made a hole about my Neck Designing it to wear to give a check To Bedlam Spirits and to charm Mad-Devil As Angel Gold is us'd to heal Kings-Evil T' other I bow'd to take the faster hold Yet Both slipt through my fingers as doth Gold My Riches fled away on Eagles Wing And for the Honey in Carcase left their Sting But courage take Iackstraw the hands I 'm sure That for thy Wound made way can give thee Cure To a Friend upon his sending him Venison to BEDLAM IF like be fed by like what better meat Can Horn Mad wild as Buck then Venison eat Sir this Philosophy you understood And sent a Hanch to be our Bedlam food Accordingly we it for such like reason Did 'cause Hot-headed well with Pepper season Madness and Wit then being all one o' th' place Sir Quack much Salt made proper in the Case And the truth is Deer must be Diet fit For Horn-Mad equally and nimble Wit The Vertue I feel and this experience gain Venison i' th' Blood swells the Poetick Vein Now Doc and Pot those whiffling Curs in couple That always Hunt I 'le keep at bay and bubble For Goat and Venison differ so small a matter That Buck will lusty make my Bedlam Satyre And when with Rope Sir Quack has cur'd the smaâ—… My Brisk Lampoon survive the long-liv'd Haâ—… Presented to the Right Honourable EDWARD SEYMOUR Esq His ever Honoured Master WHen unfledg'd Orator Tongue but weaker For Secretary chose by Mr. Speaker I straitway got the knack of better talking And from Clarks desk to Pulpit must be walking For not per saltum taken is Degree When of a Scribe you 're made a Pharisee Would you then know how Clark became a Teacher And how the Speaker's man starts up a Preacher My Master's Spring some drops on me distills And in his Ink I dipt my Infant Quills His Petition to Mr. Speaker A Man of Sense in Bedlam I recount Among our Grievances or Tant-amount To Rescue me then Serjeant send at Armes The Circle in the Crown Mad-Devil charms And Man in Moon so sure his Bush at Back Must fall by Mace as fire by Malaga Sack On his mistaking the Name OF Sir Gabriel Silvius Presented to his Lady SIr Gabriel I mistaking call Sir George And of an Angel thus a Saint do forge Sure Jealous lest you at our Saviours Birth Being of the Quire of those that Sang on Earth Do from us Mortals when you Mount and Sing Your Lady steal away upon your Wing Such Flight me robs of Soul and what I am More plainly must discover then my Name Our Life and Bliss secure then lest we die Stay long on Earth and late to Heaven flie But let me still you Englands Champion call As Omen of the Beast's and Dragon's fall The Poet 's modest and reasonable Expostulation with the non-Infallible Pope of the Lunatiques on behalf of the sober Parson hitherto mistaken and misjudged by Religio Medici Humbly Presented to the Worshipful the Treasurer and other the Governors of the Hospital of Bethlem A Pollo God and Father you and I Own both in Physick and in Poetry Brother because Lampoon'd what do you mean A Son of Phoebus Lunatick to feign Guilty the Verdict of a City Jury Can bring him in but of Poetick Fury Whereof necessity must guilt abate For he all madness pleads is kin to Fate Since then right Reason says he can't forego it Condemn his Fury but discharge the Poet. Doctor I am no ways as worth Remarque is Your