Page 22
CANTO VI.
Lack you a Thousand Pound Wench,
To lift you to the Coram-Bench;
Court her Ghostly Father, she's Demure,
And you have her Cock-sure.
Lack you to drive a subtle Trade,
Mount, ride your Horse to a Jade;
To Conventickling now or never,
And you are made a Man for ever.
Would you climb to high Degree,
Fee a Thais lustily;
Greaze her Servants, build her Bowers,
And all Corinth shall be yours.
Catamits or Bardash Toys,
Dainty content of Girls or Boys:
The Stews of Venice is the same
With the Long-Gallery of Amsterdam.
Lack you Glass Eyes, or Painted-Faces,
Bumbasts, Iron-Stays, or Laces;
Fair Sets of Teeth, Bridges or Noses,
Palats or Plump Breasts, soft as Roses;
Silver Hands, or Wooden Stumps,
For Arms or Legs, or larger Rumps;
Or any other Secret Ware,
We can fit you to a Hair.
A Chair-Man, or a Sequestrator,
Committee-Man, or Agitator;
The Naked Wight, or Tub-Divider,
The Stool, the Bench, or Stage-Bestrider.