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CANTO V.
Mortals, I have found out an Hermaphrodite Beast.
The Devourer of all the rest.
Interest and Obligation,
The great Idol of every Nation.
It never had my Approbation,
All the cry hath been against us Hags,
To conquer us, is all their Brags.
I'le prove it by Act of Parliament,
The Hollanders shall give their Consent,
That all the Hounds have lost their Sent.
Willingly, willingly, I say,
Really they hunt for their Prey;
All their God is their Pay:
There ran the Hare away.
Relations all are Nothing,
They aim at more than Meat, Drink and Cloathing.
Not for need, so much as State,
This is the true meaning of Fate,
This is Witchcraft of the highest Rate.
This is the Mistress they court,
For her they fight, labour and sport.
To her they all in Troops flock,
But not to take her in her Smock.
At her rich Dowry they aim,
To this they lay their chiefest claim.
Oblige by all means every man,
Witch, Divel or Dam,