What medicine 'twas that Paracelfus
Could make a man with, as he tells us ;
What figur'd flates are beft to make,
On wat❜ry furface, duck or drake;
What bowling-ftones, in running race
Upon a board, have fwifteft pace;
Whether a pulfe beat in the black
Lift of a dappled loufe's back;
If fyftole o diaftole move

Quickest when he's in wrath, or love;
When two of them do run a race,
Whether they gallop, trot, or pace;
How many scores a flea will jump,
Of his own length from head to rump,
Which Socrates and Chærephon
In vain affay'd so long agon;
Whether his fnout a perfect nofe is,
And not an elephant's probofcis ;
How many diff'rent fpecieses

;

Of maggots breed in rotten cheese ;
And which are next of kin to thofe
Engender'd in a chandler's nofe
Orthofe not feen, but understood,
That live in vinegar and wood.
A paltry wretch he had, half-ftarv'd,

That him in place of zany ferv'd,

High Whachum, bred to dash and draw,
Not wine, but more unwholesome law

Wide as meridians in maps;

;

300

305

310

315

320

325

To make 'twixt words and lines huge gaps,

To fquander paper, and fpare ink,

Or cheat men of their words, fome think.
From this, by merited degrees,

330

He'd to more high advancement rise,

V. 317. How many different specieses.) Species's, in edition 1664, 1674, 1684. Altered to specieses, 1689.

V. 325. Whachum.) Journeyman to Sidrophel, who was one To Jones, a foolish Welchman. In a Key to a poem of Mr. Butler's, Wha chum is said to be one Richard Green, who publifhed a pamphlet of about five sheets of base ribaldry, and called, Hudibras in a Snare, printed about the year 1667.

it was

To be an under-conjurer,

Or journeyman astrologer :

His bus'nefs was to pump and wheedle,
And men with their own keys unriddle;
To make them to themfelves give answers,

335

For which they pay the necromancers;

To fetch and carry' intelligence

Of whom, and what, and where, and whence,

340

And all difcoveries difperfe

Among th' whole pack of conjurers ;

What cut-purfes have left with them,
For the right owners to redeem,

And what they dare not vent, find out,
To gain themfelves and th' art repute;
Draw figures, fchemes, and horofcopes,
Of Newgate, Bridewell, brokers' fhops,
Of thieves afcendant in the cart,
And find out all by rules of art:
Which way a ferving-man, that's run

345

350

With clothes or money away, is gone;

Who pick'd a fob at Holding-forth,

And where a watch, for half the worth,

May be redeem'd; or ftolen plate

355

Reftor'd at confcionable rate.

Befide all this, he ferv'd his master
In quality of poetafter,

And rhymes appropriate could make
To ev'ry month i' th' almanack;

360

When terms begin and end could tell,

With their returns, in doggerel;

When the Exchequer opes and fhuts,

And fowgelder with fafety cuts;

When men may eat and drink their fill,
And when be temp'rate, if they will;

365

When ufe, and when abftain from vice,
Figs, grapes, phlebotomy, and fpice.
And as in prifon mean rogues beat
Hemp for the fervice of the great,
So Whachum beat his dirty brains
T' advance his mafter's fame and gains,

370

And, like the devil's oracles,
Put into dogg'rel rhymes his spells,
Which over ev'ry month's blank page
I' th' almanack, ftrange bilks prefage.
He would an elegy compofe
On maggots fqueez'd out of his nofe;
In lyrick numbers write an ode on
His miftrefs, eating a black pudden;
And when imprifon'd air efcap'd her,
It puft him with poetick rapture.

His fonnets charm'd th' attentive croud,
By wide-mouth'd mortal troll'd aloud,
That, circled with his long-ear'd guests,
Like Orpheus look'd among the beafts:
A carman's horfe could not pafs by,
But ftood ty'd up to poetry;

No porter's burden pass'd along,

But ferv'd for burden to his fong:

390

Each window like a pill'ry appears,

With heads thrust thro', nail'd by the ears;

All trades run in as to the fight

Of monsters to their dear delight

The gallow-tree, when cutting purse

395

Breeds bus'nefs for heroic verse,

Which none does hear but would have hung

T' have been the theme of fuch a fong.

Those two together long had liv'd

In manfion prudently contriv'd,

400

Where neither tree nor house could bar

The free detection of a star;

And nigh an ancient obelifk

Was rais'd by him, found out by Fisk,

On which was written, not in words,

405

But hieroglyphick mate of birds,
Many rare pithy faws, concerning
The worth of aftrologick learning:

V. 404.] Mr. Butler alludes to one Fisk, of whom Lilly observes, that he was a licentiate in physick, and born near Framlingham i Safolk; was bred at a country-school, and designed for the university, but weat not thither, ftudying phy ick a tá astrology at home, which aterwards he practised at Colchester; after which he cam. to London, and practised there.

VOL. I.

From top of this there hung a rope,
To which he faften'd telescope,
The fpectacles with which the stars
He reads in smalleft characters.
It happen'd as a boy, one night,
Did y his tarfel of a kite,

410

The frangeft long-wing'd hawk that flies,
That, like a bird of Paradife,

415

Or herald's martlet, has no legs,
Nor hatches young ones, nor lays eggs;
His train was fix yards long, milk-white,
At th' end of which there hung a light,
Enclos'd in lantern made of paper,
That far off like a fiar did appear:
This Sidrophel by chance cípy'd,
And with amazement ftaring wide,
Blefs us, quoth he, what dreadful wonder
Is that appears in heav'n yonder?
A comet, and without a beard!
Or ftar that ne'er before appear'd?
I'm certain 'tis not in the fcrowl
Of all thofe beafts, and fifh, and fowl,
With which, like Indian plantations,
The learned ftock the conftellations;
Nor thofe that drawn for figns have bin
To th' houfes where the planets inn.
It must be fupernatural,
Unless it be that cannon-ball

That, fhot i' th' air point blank upright,
Was borne to that prodigious height
That, learn'd philofophers maintain,
It ne'er came backwards down again,
But in the airy region yet

Hangs, like the body of Mahomet :
For if it be above the fhade

That by the earth's round bulk is made,
'Tis probable it may, from far,
Appear no bullet, but a ftar.

This faid, he to his engine flew,
Plac'd near at hand, in open view,

420

425

430

435

440

445