The Sixteenth Satyr WHAT vast Prerogatives, my Gallus, are | |
| Accrewing to the mighty Man of War! | |
| For, if into a lucky Camp I light, | |
| Tho raw in Arms, and yet afraid to Fight, | |
| Befriend me, my good Stars, and all goes right:) | 5 |
| One Happy Hour is to a Souldier better, | |
| Than Mother Junos 1 recommending Letter, | |
| Or Venus, when to Mars she woud prefer | |
| My Suit, and own the Kindness done to Her. | |
| See what Our Common Priviledges are: | 10 |
| As first no Sawcy Citizen shall dare | |
| To strike a Souldier, nor when struck, resent | |
| The wrong, for fear of farther Punishment: | |
| Not tho his Teeth are beaten out, his Eyes | |
| Hang by a String, in Bumps his Fore-head rise, | 15 |
| Shall He presume to mention his Disgrace, | |
| Or Beg amends for his demolishd Face. | |
| A Booted Judge shall sit to try his Cause, | |
| Not by the Statute, but by Martial-Laws; | |
| Which old Camillus 2 orderd, to confine | 20 |
| The Brawls of Souldiers to the Trench and Line: | |
| A Wise Provision; and from thence tis clear, | |
| That Officers a Souldiers Cause shoud hear: | |
| And taking cognizance of Wrongs receivd, | |
| An Honest Man may hope to be relievd. | 25 |
| So far tis well: But with a General cry, | |
| The Regiment will rise in Mutiny, | |
| The Freedom of Their Fellow Rogue demand, | |
| And, if refusd, will threaten to Disband. | |
| Withdraw thy Action, and depart in Peace; | 30 |
| The Remedy is worse than the Disease: | |
| This Cause is worthy him, 3 who in the Hall | |
| Woud for his Fee, and for his Client bawl: | |
| But woudst Thou Friend who hast two Legs alone, | |
| (Which Heavn be praisd, Thou yet mayst call Thy own,) | 35 |
| Woudst Thou to run the Gauntlet these expose | |
| To a whole Company of Hob-naild Shoos? 4 | |
| Sure the good Breeding of Wise Citizens | |
| Shoud teach em more good Nature to their Shins. | |
| Besides, whom canst Thou think so much thy Friend, | 40 |
| Who dares appear thy Business to defend? | |
| Dry up thy Tears, and Pocket up th Abuse, | |
| Nor put thy Friend to make a bad excuse: | |
| The Judge cries out, Your Evidence produce. | |
| Will He, who saw the Souldiers Mutton Fist, | 45 |
| And saw Thee mauld, appear within the List; | |
| To witness Truth? When I see one so Brave, | |
| The Dead, think I, are risen from the Grave; | |
| And with their long Spade Beards and Matted Hair, | |
| Our honest Ancestors are come to take the Air. | 50 |
| Against a Clown, with more security, | |
| A Witness may be brought to swear a Lye, | |
| Than, tho his Evidence be Full and Fair, | |
| To vouch a Truth against a Man of War. | |
| More Benefits remain, and claimd as Rights, | 55 |
| Which are a standing Armics Perquisites. | |
| If any Rogue vexatious Suits advance | |
| Against me for my known Inheritance, | |
| Enter by Violence my Fruitful Grounds, | |
| Or take the Sacred Land-Mark from my Bounds, | 60 |
| Those Bounds which with Procession and with Prayr, | |
| And Offerd Cakes, 5 have been my Annual care: | |
| Or if my Debtors do not keep their day, | |
| Deny their Hands, and then refuse to pay; | |
| I must with Patience all the Terms attend, | 65 |
| Among the common Causes that depend | |
| Till mine is calld; and that long lookd for day | |
| Is still encumberd with some new delay: | |
| Perhaps the Cloath of State 6 is only spred, | |
| Some of the Quorum may be Sick a Bed; | 70 |
| That Judge is Hot, and doffs his Gown, while this | |
| Ore night was Bowsy, and goes out to Piss: | |
| So many Rubs appear, the time is gone | |
| For hearing, and the tedious Suit goes on: | |
| But Buff, and Belt-Men never know these Cares, | 75 |
| No Time, nor Trick of Law, their Action Bars: | |
| Their Cause They to an easier Issue put: | |
| They will be heard, or They lug out, and cut. | |
| Another Branch of their Revenue still | |
| Remains beyond their boundless Right to kill, | 80 |
| Their Father yet alive, impowrd to make a Will. 7 | |
| For, what their Prowess Gaind, the Law declares | |
| Is to themselves alone, and to their Heirs: | |
| No share of that goes back to the begettor, | |
| But if the Son fights well, and Plunders better, | 85 |
| Like stout Coranus, his old shaking Sire | |
| Does a Remembrance in his Will desire: | |
| Inquisitive of Fights, and longs in vain | |
| To find him in the Number of the Slain: | |
| But still he lives, and rising by the War, | 90 |
| Enjoyes his Gains, and has enough to spare: | |
| For tis a Noble Generals prudent part | |
| To cherish Valour, and reward Desert: | |
| Let him be dawbd with Lace, live High, and Whore; | |
Sometimes be Lowzy, but be never Poor.
The End of the Sixteenth Satyr. | 95 |