Bacchus conculcatus, or, Sober reflections upon drinking an essay / by Philander Antiphiloinos ...

BACCHUS CONCULCATUS, OR SOBER REFLECTIONS UPON DRINKING.

ROUSE, Rouse, my Soul, mind somewhat more Divine, Then Souce thy self in Liquors ne're so fine. Sure, these were not the Steps Romes Founder Trode When he design'd Above to make Abode. The Stars, sure, have not Damn'd Thee to this Fate▪ A Fate more Cruel then the Damned's State, If any such could be— 'Twas never Love to Liquor did incline Thy easie Heart to Temporize in Wine. Thy Nature hates it, what's the Motive then? Thou may'st pretend, It was to please some Men: Thus the first Glass doth gently over Glyde, And after it, the other on does slyde. The Frollick once begun, the Brain once Fir'd, 〈…〉〈…〉 is most Desir'd▪

The Heart thus Warm'd, the Nature's changed quite, Quite other things the Fancy does endite. When Fancy's mounted on a Drunken Throne, He will be Caesar, or He will be none. His dissipated Thoughts range here and there, All Paramount, Builds Castles in the Air. He Talks of Mighty Things then from his Friends, And direful Vengeance to his Foes intends. No Loyalist to him, Though void of Reason; But by, and by, He stumbles into Treason. For Pro, and Con, in all points he'll Dispute Till Foyl'd, and Laught at, forced to Sing mute. No Talk but Fill the Glasses, Fill, Fill, Fill, Whose Health is this? In Brimmers let us Swill, We'll Kiss, we'll Kick, we'll Bounce, we'll Damn, and Swagger, We'll Ramble, though we scarcely well can Stagger. As Frenticks act a thousand Antick tricks, Till some Brisk Squire on point of Honour Sticks: And then the merry Meeting of the Barrel, Dissolves into a Dirty Drunken Quarrel. Or else the Stomach, wiser then her Owner, Turns Nauseous, and Revocks least he should Drown her, And after this, if any Sense remains Within the half Confounded witless Brains Falls to't again, And the whole Scene Renews, Till forc'd to Shrink away, and once more Spews; To Drink another Glass not being able, He Slingers Home as Ship Sans Sail or Cable,

If not Supported, Catches frequent Falls, Not able to get up, on All Four Crawls. Loses a Hat, and Spoils a Silken Suite, Disjoynts an Arm, or breaks a Leg to boot. At last at Home arrives our Squire, and then If he have as much Sense, Cryes who's there Ben? Then enters Stagg'ring, Huffs, and Domineers, Hectors, Bravadoes, Curses, Damns, and Swears: Ripps up old Sores, long Acted, and Forgot. And at his Nod all present they must Trot. Thus he continues till his Eyes grow Dim, Off with his Cloaths; That Night no more of him. Sometimes his Worship is so very Struit, Benumm'd he enters, and continues Mute, Creeps into Bed on Hands, and Feet, and must With his Dis-robing one or other Trust; And having lay'd his Head upon the Cod▪ Somnus Arreists him with a Drowsy Nod▪ Thus Lyes out Prince, and his Chimera Glory And for that time, There's no more of the Story Till in the Night, awakn'd by a Drowth, Cryes, where's the Stoup? and sets it to his Mouth, His Gumms Cool'd, and Burnt Liver Quench'd, a main: He layes him down, and falls to Sleep again. Thus Sleeps, and Slumbers on, till in a Fright. He does Awake, Scar'd by the Morning Light. Takes th' other Drink, Lyes down; But Sleep's his Toil. From Side to Side, He does himself Turmoil.

Sloutching he Lyes, but finds no solid Rest. To Rise, or Ly, He knows not which is best, With various Thoughts his Soul is so Opprest. Slighted Affairs, Stareing upon him Cryes, He must get up; though scarce has Pow'r to Rise. His Burning Veins Tormenting ev'ry Part, An Acheing-Head, a Sick and Squeemish Heart▪ At last disperst the Fumes of last Nights Drinking. In Soberness, He falls to Sober Thinking: When He begins with Horrour to look back. On each Extravagant, Mad Word and Act; His Soul then Sinks, without Hopes of Relief, Dissolv'd into a Sable Swoon of Grief. His Rueful Thoughts puts him on Rack, anon His Heart is melted in a Fainting Groan. He the Remembrance hates of Follies past, And in Oblivion would them gladly cast: But All's in vain; perforce he must Remember Those things at which he Trembles in each Member. At last Recov'red, thus he Ruminates And with himself He thus Expostulates.

Can all my Drunken Frollicks, Mirth, and Joy Ballance what now does my poor Soul Annoy? Nay, though extended to Eternity, This very Moment should them all outweigh▪ Besides, I find strong Drink doth Mock, and Wine Doth Counteract Me in my best Design;

By Excess I have lost my Dearest Friends▪ And Disoblidg'd them, without Hopes of mends. My wounded Reputation Bleeding Lyes, My Blasted Credit by this Folly Dyes. To all the World, I'm made a Laughing Stock, And Look'd upon, but as a Drunken Block. And as the Fools Heart fails Him in the Way By this My hidden Weaknes I Bewray Without all Courage, Conduct, or an Heart, Losing my Time, can no wayes Act my Part. Impaired Health Death Ush'ring in too fast: A Mould'ring Fortune Negligence doth Blast. I have in needless, horrid Hazards Run Precipitant; not having Sense to shun. I've spoke what I with Horrour call to Mind, Asham'd to own, that e're I such Design'd. Religions Scandal; Piety Disgrac'd: Offence to God; His Image quite Defac'd.

Of Drinking th' Bad Concomitants surmount All that the greatest Penman can Recount.

Then let Me all the World pardon Crave. I'le hence for no Man, be to Drink a Slave.

Almighty Jah! Grant that I stedfast Stand In this Resolve, Obeying thy Command.