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In foul and body, and instill
All future good and future ill ;
Which in their dark fatalities lurking,
At destin'd periods fall a working,
And break out, like the hidden feeds
Of long diseases, into decds,
In friendships, enmities, and strife,
And all th' emergencies of life:
No sooner does he peep into
The world, but he has done his do,
Catch'd all diseases, took all physick,
That cures or kills a man that is sick;
Marry'd his punctual dose of wives,
Is cuckolded, and breaks, or thrives.
There's but the twinkling of a star
Between a man of peace and war ;
A thief and justice, fool and knave,
A huffing off'cer and a slave ;

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A crafty lawyer and pickpocket,
A great philosopher and a blockhead;
A formal preacher and a player,
A learn'd physician and man-slayer :
As if men from the stars did fuck
Old age, diseases, and ill luck,
Wit, folly, honour, virtue, vice,
Trade, travel, women, claps, and dice;
And draw, with the first air they breathe,
Battle, and murder, sudden death.
Are not these fine commodities
To be imported from the skies,
And vended here among the rabble,
For staple goods, and warrantable ?

money by the Druids borrow'd, In th' other world to be restor’d.



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Quoth Sidrophel, to let you know
You wrong the art and artists too:
Since arguments are lost on those
That do our principles oppose ;

I will, altho' I've don't before,
Demonstrate to your sense once more,
And draw a figure that shall tell you
What you, perhaps, forget befel you ;
By way of horary inspection,

Which some account our worst erection.
With that, he circles draws, and squares,
With cyphers, astral characters,
Then looks 'em o'er to understand'em,
Altho' set down habnab at random.

Quoth he, this scheme of th' heavens set,
Discovers how in fight you met,
At Kingston, with a may-pole idol,
And that y’were bang’d both back and side well;

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Sübibens beats Whagum skall jew SIDROPHEL and made hemel og har

Quoth he, This Scheme o'ch' Heans set quoth Hudibras, I now porceive
Discovery hon in fight you met

You are no

Conj'rer, by your leave;
At Kingston with a May-pole

Idol, l That Paltry Story is untrue,
Ind that y'nere banged both back&side welt And forgd to cheat ouch Gulls as you.
Ind though you ouercame the Bear, Not true, Quoth he. how ére, you vapour,
TheDogs" beat you at Brentford Fair; _ I can what I affirm make appear;

his man

THACUM. \To be expos 'dict

By such a Braca

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