Old Æsop at White-hall giving advice to the young Æsops at Tunbridge and Bath, or, Some fables relating to government

FAB III. The Hermit and the Soldier.

A Pious Hermit seeing a Man of Blood Come strutting thro' his solitary Wood, Accosts him thus: Dear Brother, why do you In Humane Blood and Gore your Hands imbrue? Leave off that Trade, be 'Partner in my Cell, Read, pray, and think, and save your Soul from Hell. The Soldier look'd stern, But at last did reply, I am willing to learn, And G—zds I'll comply. We Men of the Sword Are not worth a T—d,

But are basely kept under, Nor have Pay nor have Plunder. A plague on the Peace Which makes our Gain cease: And seeing it is so, With the Hermit I'll go, Till the Drums beat again, and the Trumpets do blow.

MORAL.

Just so the Jacks their desperate Cause forsake, And to the side o'th' Commonwealth betake; Since their own King has play'd the Fool, and's gone, Ours to molest they turn up every Stone. The Church, the Church, is ready to take fire, Is all their Out-cry: Brethren, save the Quire,

Take care o'th Steeple, Chancel, Surplice, Crape, The Church of England Dove's in danger of a Rape, No thanks to them she did from Father Peters scape: Yet when their Prince, and's Priests shall venture over, They'll swear she is no Chast nor Turtle Lover, But did to others her fair Breasts discover; Then they will be for Commonwealth no more, But screw Prerogative high as before, Huff like N—S—r, cackle like B—S—wer.