Vienna, Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Cod. 14090 (V90)

A huge anthology from the Cameron scriptorium, principally of lampoons, which is virtually identical in its contents with VAd43. The TC lists a number of poems which are not found in the MS. All of these are found in VAd43 in the same order. Perhaps the TC was compiled first, as there don’t seem from the film to be any gaps in the MS. Note that poems listed in the TC only have not been given a V90 number. Description by Rudlof Broatanek, in Festschrift der Nationalbibliothek in Wien (Vienna, 1926), 145–62.

When Clarendon had discerned beforehand V90*1 (ff. 7r-9v)
He comes to be roasted St James’s next fair
<A house warming to Chancellor Hyde>

Pride lust ambition and the people’s hate V90*2 (f. 9v)
From aged Pauls to build a nest for the rook
<The downfall of the Chancellor>

Must I with patience ever silent sit V90*3 (f. 10r-v)
Or who’d be safe and senseless as Tom Thyn
<Satyr>

Among the race of England’s modern peers V90*4 (ff. 10v-12r)
In such a subject and a brother blessed
<Satyr>

Not Rome in all its splendour could compare V90*5 (ff. 12r-13v)
And Mrs Stratford yield to Ballock Hall
<Satyr. Nobilitas sola atque unica virtus>

Since all the actions of the far-famed men V90*6 (ff. 13v-14v)
But must cry Jack what have you stole today
<Satyr>

Inspired with high and mighty ale V90*7 (ff. 15r-16v)
That is your servant to command
<A letter from Mr Shadwell to Mr Wicherley [`T.S.’]>

That I have only answered mum V90*8 (ff. 17r-18v)
My muse has tired herself to you / And so adieu
<The answer>

The parsons all keep whores V90*9 (ff. 18v-20r)
And blind Lord Vaughan turn saint
<A new ballad. Lord Ro[cheste]r. To the tune of Chevy Chace>

When to the king I bid good morrow V90*10 (f. 20r)
And from that politic Garmount
<Dialogue. L[ord] R[ochester]>

O what damned age do we live in V90*11 (f. 20v)
They get on each other and ride
<Song. Lord R[ochester] [not in TC]>

There’s no such thing as good or evil V90*12 (f. 21r)
God’s grace abounds never the more
<Song. Lord Vaughan>

From a proud sensual atheistical life V90*13 (ff. 21r-22v)
And buying three hillocks for the three knights of Brentford
<Duke of Buck[ingham]’s litany>

The Spaniards gravely preach in politic schools V90*14 (ff. 23r-24v)
If prick swives loyal strumpet of his own
<The whore of Babylon>

Clarendon had law and sense V90*15 (f. 24v)
With here and there a pawn
<Satyr>

Let ancients boast no more V90*16 (f. 25r-v)
Whilst her great name confronts eternity
<Pindaric>

Of all quality whores modest Betty for me V90*17 (f. 26r-v)
What pity it is she runs resty with thee
<Ballad on Betty Felton>

As cities that unto fierce conquerors yield V90*18 (ff. 26v-27v)
Yet we’d better by far have him than his brother
<Upon Sir Robert Vyner’s setting up the king’s statue>

Prorogue upon prorogue damned rogues and whores V90*19 (ff. 28r-30v)
If not next wish is we may all be free
<Upon proroguing of the parliament>

I am a senseless thing with a hey with a hey V90*20 (ff. 31r-32v)
For a martyr’s place above
<A new ballad. To the old tune of I am the Duke of Norf[olk] [followed in TC by title for #63, `Queries from Garroway’s coffee house’]>

The rabble hates the gentry fear V90*21 (ff. 32v-33r)
And thou the lumpish log
<Satyr>

Husband thou dull insipid miscreant V90*22 (ff. 33r-34v)
Destroys soul body credit and estate
<A broadside to marriage directed against that inconsiderable animal a husband>

The clog of all pleasures the luggage of life V90*23 (ff. 34v-35r)
Was a hell upon earth worse than that will come after
<Against a wife>

God bless our good and gracious king V90*24 (f. 35r)
Nor ever did a wise one
<The k[ing] praising the translation of the psalms, says my Lord Roch[este]r An’t please your Majesty I’ll show you presently how they run. And thus begun [not in TC]>

When daring Blood to have his rents regained V90*25 (f. 35r)
The bishop’s cruelty the crown had gone
<On Blood’s stealing the crown>

Fair was the morn when bloody-minded Mars V90*26 (f. 35r-v)
And with the martial blade scrapes off the turd
<Mars angered>

[Chloe in verse by your command I write] V90*27 (ff. 35v-37r)
But you are tired and so am I farewell
<Satyr [begins at `You smile to see me whom the world perchance’] [`Rochester’]>

Cleveland was much to blame V90*28 (ff. 37v-38r)
So many buttered bums
<On the Duchess of Cleveland>

Sweet lovely youth let not a woman’s crime V90*29 (f. 38r-v)
And still love on till death my life adieu
<Verses made by a lady. To a young gent. whom she had casually hurt with her fan>

Near Epsom at the King of Bantam’s marriage V90*30 (ff. 38v-39r)
And this is all the amends that I desire
<Upon a gent. breaking a china bowl at a wedding [`Tho. Cheek Esqr.’]>

Among the writing race of modern wit V90*31 (f. 39r-40v)
To gentle poet or to small commander
<Satyr [`gentile’ for `gentle’]>

Ye London lads be sorry V90*32 (ff. 40v-41r)
And the Devil reward ’em I trow
<Song>

To you great sir whose power does extend V90*33 (f. 41r-v)
Will please t’encourage with his hum or cough
<The prologue to Dr Smallwood’s speech of Trinity College when he was Tripus 1679/90 qr>

Now the job’s done and who will say V90*34 (ff. 41v-42v)
‘Tis time t’ have done your humble Troat
<The epilogue>

Juno shall not be jealous Venus fair V90*35 (f. 42v)
Forget your valour Thraso till I die
<Never>

Reader this book is an Aceldama V90*36 (f. 43r)
As hateful to the world as once were we
<Upon Weaver’s book of funeral monuments [the place where Jesus was betrayed]>

Chaste pious prudent Charles the second V90*37 (ff. 43r-46r)
Miserably kinged with storks and logs
<The history of the insipids>

As t’other night in bed I thinking lay V90*38 (ff. 46v-54v)
‘Tis ten to one but I shall dream again
<A dream of the cabal>

Now the reformer of the court and stage V90*39 (ff. 54v-59r)
Would damn themselves and their posterity
<Satyr on the rump cabal>

Shame of my life disturber of my tomb V90*40 (ff. 59v-60r)
Like him your angry father kicked you down
<Tom Ross’s ghost to his pupil James D[uke] of Monmouth>

Phillis be gentler I advise V90*41 (f. 60r)
And never know the joy
<Song>

To this moment a rebel I throw down my arms V90*42 (ff. 60v-61r)
At the thought of those joys I should meet in her arms
<Song [followed by another `Song’ in TC, without page number (*45 below)]>

In the isle of Britain long since famous grown V90*43 (f. 61r-v)
From the hector of France to the cully of Britain
<The Earl of Roch[este]r’s verses for which he was banished>

Love bid me hope and I obeyed V90*44 (ff. 61v-62r)
In women most mistrustful shame
<Woman’s honour. A song>

Since you will needs be kind to me V90*45 (ff. 62v-63r)
Or else the Devil’s in yee
<Song [out of order in TC, see #42 above]>

Such a sad fate prepare to hear V90*46 (f. 63r-66r)
We find no dildoes from his ashes rise
<Dildoides. By Mr Butler>

You ladies of Merry England V90*47 (ff. 66v-68v)
It had gone hard with Signor Dildo
<Seignior Dildo [`Lord Roch[este]r’]>

In Milford Lane near to St. Clement’s steeple V90*48 (ff. 68v-70v)
A common wealth their government shall be
<A duel, between two monsters on my Lady Bennet’s cunt &c [`By Dorset & H. Savile’] [TC title: `Duell of ye Crablice’]>

Since now my Sylvia is as kind as fair V90*49 (ff. 70v-73r)
This child of hers that most deserves her care
<The enjoyment>

Thus in the zenith of my lust I reign V90*50 (ff. 73r-88v)
There on thy buggered arse I will expire
<The farce of Sodom. Dramatis personae…>

A German widow once of jolly mien V90*51 (ff. 89r-90r)
And want the fool of reconciliation
<E Fabulis Æsopi. Page 67. De vidua virum petente. Englished thus [lacks the Latin text given in VAd43] [followed in TC by `Upon ye D: of Bucks ye Sage leafe’ without page number, i.e. #54 below]>

Soon as you read these lines I know you’ll ask V90*52 (ff. 90r-91r)
If thou wouldst wiser be those vices scorn
<How men may be wiser than their forefathers. By Mr Freeman when he was in Bedlam>

Hail happy warrior hail whose arms have won V90*53 (ff. 91v-93r)
And waked me from the visionary joy
<To the Pr[ince] and Princess of Orange by Mr N. Lee>

I sing the praise of a worthy wight V90*54 (ff. 93r-95v)
For his father was ruined by the best of the kind
<A new ballad [`Kn[ight]’ uncorr] [in TC after #51 (see above)]>

Thou common shore of this poetic town V90*55 (ff. 96r-98r)
His mistress lost and yet his pen’s his sword
<Epistle to Mr Julian, secretary of the muses [out of order in TC]>

Julian in verse to ease thy wants I write V90*56 (ff. 98r-99v)
And villain Frank fuck Mazarine no more
<To Mr Julian. 1679 [`Ld. Falkland’]>

Disgraced undone forlorn made fortune’s sport V90*57 (ff. 99v-100r)
Next to your self by God I will be king
<A l[ette]r from the D[uke] of Monmo[uth] to the k[ing]>

Ungrateful boy I will not call thee son V90*58 (ff. 100r-101r)
God’s blood I’ll send you to the rout below
<The k[ing]’s answer>

Who’d be the man lewd libels to indite V90*59 (ff. 101r-103v)
Those few unblemished are not meant in this
<Satyr unmuzzled>

Is this the heavenly crown are those the joys V90*60 (ff. 104r-105v)
Oppressed with trophies of their victory
<Lord Stafford’s ghost>

The Londoner gent / To the king did present V90*61 (ff. 106r-108v)
Unless you all burn again burn again
<Upon his Majesty’s be[in]g made free of the city>

It happened in the twilight of the day V90*62 (ff. 109r-110v)
Starts from his couch and bid the dame draw near
<Sir Edmund Bury Godfry’s ghost>

Would you send Kate to Portugal V90*63 (ff. 110v-111v)
And once more make Charles king again
<Queries [follows #20 in TC as `Queries from Garroway’s coffee house’]>

I would be glad to see Kate going V90*64 (ff. 111v-112v)
And use plain dealing clear as water
<The answer [not in TC]>

Methinks I see you newly risen V90*65 (ff. 112v-114r)
The reigns of government will break
<To the Duchess of Portsmo[uth]>

How our good king does Papists hate V90*66 (ff. 114r-115v)
Yet bear the Littletons in mind
<Song>

Curse on those critics innocent and vain V90*67 (ff. 115v-117v)
And some are fools enough to take their own
<Satyr on the court ladies [followed in TC by title, `Some Nonsense to ye Tune of ye Magpies’ (ie `Old Wainscot was in the right…’)]>

Young gallants o’th’ town leave your whoring I pray V90*68 (ff. 117v-119r)
Poor girl she was like t’ have quite lost her nose
<Another on the ladies [not in TC]>

Too long the wise commons have been in debate V90*69 (f. 119r)
Must be damned in a cup of unworthy receivers
<Essay>

The bards of old who were inspired with wit V90*70 (ff. 119v-122r)
Proves but a little pretty witty wanton jest
<A panegyric on a ball, by Sir W: T. to Mrs L: But Mrs S. made the appearing queen>

‘Tis not dear sir the least ambitious aim V90*71 (ff. 122v-123v)
The law not more of serpent has than dove
<On the English version of Hugo Grotius De veritate Christi Religionis>

At five this morn when Phoebus raised his head V90*72 (ff. 124r-127v)
Did seem to me by much the wiser creature
<Tunbridge Wells>

When rebels first pushed at the crown V90*73 (f. 128r)
For the king enjoys his own again
<Catch. L[or]d Buckhurst>

Son of a whore God damn you can you tell V90*74 (f. 128r-v)
The readiest way my lord’s by Rochester
<To the post boy [`By Rochr’ in TC]>

‘Twas when the sable mantle of the night V90*75 (ff. 128v-129r)
I felt my belly wet and slept again
<A dream [`L[ord] R[ocheste]r’]>

Base mettled hanger by thy master’s thigh V90*76 (f. 129r)
Or I’ll ne’er draw thee but against a post
<Against his p[ric]k [`Roch[este]r’]>

A knight delights in deeds of arms V90*77 (f. 129v)
Keep the first letters of these lines and guess
<Song>

At the sight of my Phillis from every part V90*78 (ff. 129v-130r)
To live sober all day and chaste all the night
<Song>

Bless me you stars for sure some sad portent V90*79 (f. 130r-v)
And crammed it in dull dog it would not stand
<Song [`Roch[este]r’]>

Give me ye gods each day an active whore V90*80 (f. 130v)
But the dull temperate fool is always dead
<Song [`T: Fothergill’] [`alway’ in MS]>

I once was a dotard which wrought me much evil V90*81 (f. 131r)
Keep their feet mount their tails and away
<Song>

Deep in an unctuous vale ‘twixt swelling hills V90*82 (ff. 131v-134v)
If poor cunt did not master thee
<1674. Iter occidentale or The wonders of warm waters [`Sir Fra[ncis] Fane’]>

I’d had an easy dose of wine o’er night V90*83 (f. 135r-138r)
Beyond the joys of life or ought that’s here admired
<The vision>

He that would learn to fence for his life V90*84 (ff. 138v-139r)
And all day he consults with stinking close stool
<The statesman’s academy. Erected in the Tower at the proper cost of the House of Peers, where at present inhabit 4. of the best masters of their time [a stanza each to Buckingham, Salisbury, Shaftesbury and Wharton]>

She was so exquisite a whore V90*85 (f. 139r)
She frigged his pintle in her mother’s womb
<On the Duchess of Clevel[an]d>

Of civil dudgeon many a bard V90*86 (ff. 139r-143r)
To purchase liberty by flogging
<The quarrel, between Frank and Nan [with introduction `The argument’, `Nan and Frank two quondam friends’] Canto 1: [and concluding couplet]>

Welcome great prince unto this land V90*87 (ff. 143v-144v)
To all that spring from royal blood
<To the Pr[ince] of Orange. 1677>

Here’s a house to be let / For Charles Stewart swore V90*88 (ff. 144v-145r)
But paid for’t at last
<The parl[iamen]t house to be let>

Preserved by wonder in the oak O Charles V90*89 (ff. 145r-147r)
But now I think on’t I have said enough
<Satyr. Mr Lacy>

Though royal sir in every act you show V90*90 (f. 147r-v)
None of our flatterers love us half so well
<On the prorogation. January 26. 1678>

Hadst thou but lived in Cleopatra’s age V90*91 (f. 147v)
That all the world for love had been well lost
<On the D[uches]s of Portsmo[uth’]s picture. J[ohn] Dryden>

Here lies the urn O what a little blow V90*92 (f. 148r-v)
How much thou’st wronged thy maker and mankind
<A meditation over the Duke of Buck[ingham’]s grave [not in TC]>

Enjoy thy bondage make thy prison know V90*93 (ff. 148v-149v)
Stout Felton England’s ransom here doth lie
<To Felton in the tower>

When Harry’s fury first grew tame V90*94 (ff. 149v-151v)
As they go on we shall proceed
<In imitation of part of Hudibras>

Sir / ‘Twas Sarsfield Parson’s and Mun Sherman’s wit V90*95 (ff. 151v-152v)
She locks up Skipworth in her dressing box
<Letter>

Thou doting fond besotted amorous fool V90*96 (ff. 152v-153v)
‘Tis better be a vassal in Algier
<Satyr against love and women>

From the deep vaulted den of endless night V90*97 (ff. 154r-156r)
Souls damned to night must never view the day
<Roch[este]r’s ghost to the secretary of the muses>

Ye good men of Middlesex countrymen dear V90*98 (ff. 156v-157r)
Till thou soften his heart and open his ear
<On Sir Robert Peyton>

As when proud Lucifer aimed at a throne V90*99 (ff. 157r-158r)
For though his pride’s as great his cunning’s less
<The parallel>

As Colon drove his sheep along V90*100 (ff. 158r-161r)
Blither girls than any there
<Satyr, on several women [`Buckhurst’] [`Colen’ in MS]>

Well then ’tis true wherever princes move V90*101 (f. 161r-v)
The treacherous brat squall out its mother’s name
<Litchfield thais>

Muse let us change our style and live in peace V90*102 (ff. 161v-164r)
And peevish Jack will never write again
<Utile dulci>

Of all the plagues with which this world abounds V90*103 (ff. 164r-165v)
The counsel’s good believe and take it
<An essay of scandal>

Stamford’s countess led the van V90*104 (ff. 165v-168r)
Moll adieu you’ve lost your squire
<The ladies march>

Of a great heroine I mean to tell V90*105 (ff. 168v-170r)
She that no equal has must be alone
<Panegyric on Nelly>

I sing the story of a scoundrel lass V90*106 (ff. 170r-173v)
To meet the prince she had so often fopped
<The lady of pleasure. Or. The life of Nelly truly shown / From Hop Garden cellar to the throne / Till in the grave she tumbled down>

‘Twas a foolish fancy Jemmy V90*107 (ff. 173v-174v)
With a list of all your creatures
<From Sir Roger Martin, to D[uke] [of] Monmouth. To the tune, Have at thy coat old woman>

Leave off your ogling Francis V90*108 (f. 175r-v)
And servant Roger Martin
<Advice in a l[ette]r to Mr Fra[ncis] Villiers. To the tune, Here’s a health to Betty [`Heroic Epistle…’ in TC]>

Our monarch’s whore from France is come V90*109 (f. 176r-v)
And set his duchess right
<Portsmouth’s return>

Happy great prince and so much happier thou V90*110 (ff. 177r-180v)
And ‘midst a glorious heap of burning cunts expire
<Sardanapalus. An ode. by Mr Oldham [followed in TC by title `To ye Author’, without page number]>

Sure there are some that with me see the state V90*111 (ff. 181r-182r)
If Log or Armstrong shall be absolute
<The impartial trimmer [lost work in VAd43] [first line in other sources: `Since there…’] [ie. Leg]>

The freeborn English generous and wise V90*112 (f. 182r-v)
To have enslaved but made this isle their friend
<An allusion. Tacit de vit[a] Agr[icolæ] [`Genous’ in MS] [lost work in VAd43]>

After that sort of academic wit V90*113 (ff. 183r-184r)
Like mighty muses there inspiring it
<Mr Smallwood’s verses to the ladies when he was prevaricator. Coll Trin 1681>

To the ladies whom we hope to find V90*114 (f. 184r-v)
All those that have ne’er wish that they had none
<K[ing’]s College. Mr Amhurst’s speech to the ladies concluding the commencement 1681>

Even joined in one the good the fair the great V90*115 (ff. 184v-185r)
Thinks well rewarded in so fair a wife
<October 1680. By Mr Geo[rge] Grinvill noble man of Trin[ity] Coll[ege]. To her royal highness the Duchess when she went down to see the library [`Greenvill’ in TC, perhaps Granville intended]>

May it please your highness / How great and just a veneration V90*116 (f. 185r-186v)
That your royal highness was never so magnificently received as in Kings College
<By Knightly Chetwood, presented to the Duchess, when she was in K[ing’]s Coll[ege] chapel. 1680 [prose text]>

From sawing the crown ‘twixt fanatics and friars V90*117 (ff. 187r-188v)
From a representative monster that’s all over rump
<The loyal subjects’ litany>

When plate was at pawn and fob at an ebb V90*118 (ff. 188v-190r)
And still in their language quake Vive le roy
<Royal resolutions>

Methinks I see our mighty monarch stand V90*119 (ff. 190r-191r)
To make way for his son to bring a whore
<Flatfoot the gudgeon taker [`Goodgeon’ in MS]>

Since every foolish coxcomb thinks it fit V90*120 (ff. 191r-193v)
Didapping Wharton bears the Bayes away
<Answer to the satyr of the court ladies [ie #67 above] [not in TC]>

Much has been said of strumpets of yore V90*121 (ff. 193v-194v)
And ask the fair creature her self if ’tis true
<An historical ballad>

Come all you youths that yet are free V90*122 (ff. 194v-196v)
Like Arundell and Gray
<A ballad. Tune of Cheviot Chace>

I who from drinking ne’er could spare an hour V90*123 (ff. 196v-200v)
Who entailed it on his line to cheat the crown
<Quem natura negat &c: Juvenall>

Not thicker are the stars in the milky way V90*124 (ff. 200v-204r)
For it damns more and therefore must be worst
<The survey>

You scribblers that write still of widows and maids V90*125 (ff. 204v-205v)
If every one’s wife should turn honest again
<The Lady Frechevill’s Song of the wives>

Hear me dull prostitute worse than my wife V90*126 (ff. 206r-212v)
While thy vile heroes to their pardons run
<Satyr, to his muse. By the author of Absalom and Achitophell [`Mr Summers’ (i.e. Somers)]>

If Sulla’s ghost made bloody Catiline start V90*127 (ff. 212v-214v)
Send Dr Burnet to me or I die
<Nelly’s complaint [`Syllas’ and `Catline’ in MS]>

Since satyr is the only thing that’s writ V90*128 (ff. 214v-215v)
To make good Poet Paunch’s prophecy
<Satyr undisguised>

When noble Prince George / Was certainly come V90*129 (ff. 216r-217r)
Come buss and be friends then
<The welcome>

While I in the camp / Was playing my part V90*130 (ff. 217r-218r)
No period find
<Dialogue between G[eorge] and A[nne]. A translation [`Geo: & Nann’ in TC]>

In vain the fulsome errors of the age V90*131 (ff. 218r-222v)
Thou yet hast stock enow thy self to trade
<A satyr, on both Whigs, and Tories>

The censuring world perhaps may not esteem V90*132 (ff. 222v-226r)
I value not your malice nor your curse
<Satyr on the players>

Add all to man that man’s perfection makes V90*133 (ff. 226v-227r)
Were you O were you like him in your love
<To Doraliza. on her being like L[or]d Dorset>

You Whigs and you Tories you trimmers and all V90*134 (ff. 227r-228v)
Than thus t’ have set the father against son
<Evidence Mall. Tune. Packington’s Pound [written `your Trimmers’]>

This trick of trimming is a fine thing V90*135 (ff. 228v-229v)
Welcome thou rebel son welcome welcome
<The cushion dance at court. Tune of John Saunderson. Enter Jeffry Ailworth followed by the k[ing] and d[uke] hand in hand>

There’s Sunderland the Tory V90*136 (ff. 229v-231v)
And burn her as they did the rump
<Song [TC title `Ballad to ye Tune of Sr Rogr Martin’]>

From whence was first this fury hurled V90*137 (f. 232r-v)
And raging as the northern wind
<The first chorus of jealousy>

In what esteem did the gods hold V90*138 (f. 233r-v)
Than her false echo in the air
<The second chorus. Of female honour betrayed [not listed separately in TC]>

Stop the chafed boar or play V90*139 (ff. 233v-234r)
Love of a consumption dies
<The third chorus. Of the separation of lovers [not listed separately in TC]>

By what power was love confined V90*140 (f. 234r-v)
Without a rival monarch of the breast
<The last chorus. Of the incommunicability of love [not listed separately in TC]>

Madam I come ten thousand thanks to pay V90*141 (ff. 235r-237r)
In only saying that he pleases you
<Satyr. To a lady [TC title `Satyr to a Lady on Boileau’]>

What words what sense what nightpiece can express V90*142 (ff. 237r-238v)
And brought three kingdoms to his majesty’s laws
<On the E[arl] of Roch[este]r’s penitent death. By Sir Fra[ncis] Fane>

Send forth dear Julian all thy books V90*143 (ff. 238v-241r)
Then every night I’ll sit and write
<Satyr to Julian>

The youth was belov’d in the spring of his life V90*144 (ff. 241r-244r)
Than thus to be hanged up for cutting a purse
<A ballad, called Lamentable Lory>

Thy groans dear Armstrong which the world employ V90*145 (ff. 244v-245v)
They are reserved by thunder to be slain
<On the death of Sir T[homas] Armstrong k[nigh]t. Executed at Tiburn. June the 20th 1684. The author supposed to be Ino [ie Jonathan] Ayloffe esquire. Hanged at Temple Barr, October 30. 1685>

Here lies a creature of indulgent fate V90*146 (f. 245v)
By his preposterous translation
<Epitaph on Lamentable Lory. by Dryden>

Big with the thoughts of pleasure down I came V90*147 (ff. 246r-248r)
Whose humours are as crooked as Miss Scot
<Tunbridge lampoon. 1683>

Tunbridge which once has been the happy seat V90*148 (ff. 248v-253r)
When I their grosser vices might deride
<News from Tunbridge. 1684>

A long preludium where the matter’s full V90*149 (ff. 253r-255r)
You may ere long expect what is behind
<Tunbridge remarks. 1684 [a second hand has written some of the lines on f. 254r]>

She that designs to make a virtuous wife V90*150 (f. 255r-v)
While t’other split on rocks of pox and shame
<Advice to the ladies>

Damn that opinion which will not allow V90*151 (ff. 255v-256v)
As could not with their freedom be content
<Satyr against matrimony>

Mine and the poet’s plague consume you all V90*152 (ff. 256v-257v)
And safer far by pimping get my bread
<Julian’s farewell to the muses>

What can be the mystery that Charing Cross V90*153 (ff. 257v-259r)
To behold every day such a court such a son
<On the statue at Charing Crosse>

Dear friend I fain would try once more V90*154 (ff. 259r-262v)
Matter much more ridiculous
<A l[ette]r to Julian from Tunbridge>

Here take this Warcup spread it up and down V90*155 (ff. 263r-265v)
With horns instead of bays ‘s the hero crowned
<To Capt[ain] Warcup>

‘Tis true that I have lately seen V90*156 (ff. 265v-268v)
To be a lover hero or a friend
<The answer to the foregoing poem>

Apollo concerned to see the transgressions V90*157 (ff. 269r-272v)
And leave ’em togther by the ears for the bays
<The session of poets>

Intelligence was brought the court being sat V90*158 (ff. 272v-273v)
Because they alone made their plays to go off
<The second part [not listed separately in TC]>

Bawds fiddlers whores buffoons o’th’age V90*159 (ff. 273v-281r)
Smirk Darnell be my judge in this
<Hor. Lib. 1. Satyr. 2d [a series of replies and answers]>

I’ll tell thee Dick where I have been V90*160 (ff. 281v-285r)
And I for them be shent
<The Chequer Inn. A ballad [`shend’ – to put to shame]>

Good people an’t please you give ear unto me V90*161 (ff. 285v-288r)
And no man e’er heard of ’em since or before
<A narrative of the popish plot [begins with `The argument’ (`Now Sir Godfrey’s killed his body they hide’)] First part>

The plot being so suddenly contrived as you hear V90*162 (ff. 288r-290v)
So prosper all traitors and God save the king
<Second part [begins with `The argument’ (`Of arms underground for horse and for foot’)] [not listed separately in TC]>

I’ve heard the muses were still soft and kind V90*163 (f. 290v)
Cheering each welcome day the drowsy earth
<Advice to Apollo>

To make my life for state employment fit V90*164 (f. 291r-v)
None can so well instruct as Lord Mohun
<Directions for a min[iste]r of state [`thy life’ uncorr] [`E Roch[este]r’] [followed in TC by title, `The Encouragement’, but not on p. 574 (f. 291v)]>

In all humility we crave V90*165 (f. 291v)
The greatest prince in Christendom
<The Commons’ pet[itio]n to the k[ing]>

Charles at this time having no need V90*165.1 (ff. 291v-292r)
Thanks you as much as if he did
<The k[ing’]s answer [not listed separately in TC]>

‘Tis said when George did dragon slay V90*166 (ff. 292r-293v)
We’ll throw up caps and once more hollow
<A Westm[inste]r wedding. or The town mouth>

The grave House of Commons by hook or by crook V90*167 (ff. 294r-295r)
But to throw out the bishops that threw out the bill
<Satyr [TC title `The Bps have thrown out ye bill a Satyr’]>

To the honourable court there lately came V90*168 (ff. 295r-296r)
We’ll win him with goodness or awe him with fear
<A ballad on Sir W[illia]m Clifton>

Of villains rebels cuckolds pimps and spies V90*169 (ff. 296r-299v)
Nor Nell so much inverted Nature spewed
<A new satyr. 1681>

From the lawless dominion of mitre and crown V90*170 (ff. 299v-301r)
From the king [or kingdom?] of France and the French king
<A litany. 1681>

Pray pardon me John Bayes if by your excuse V90*171 (ff. 301r-303r)
I hate knaves in it but I love the gown well
<The assembly of moderate divines [`Ino’ in MS]>

This way of writing I observe by some V90*172 (ff. 303r-304v)
All living creatures fuck except the king
<Satyr. 1682>

To Tunbridge I went V90*173 (ff. 304v-305r)
Should be happy with fine Mistress Mary
<A ballad from Tunbr[idge]. 1682>

Dorset no gentle nymph can find V90*174 (f. 305r-v)
For she’ll have Moll no more
<Dorset’s lamentation for Moll Howard’s absence>

After thinking this fortnight of Whig and of Tory V90*175 (ff. 305v-306r)
The fools might be Whigs none but knaves should be Tories
<My opinion>

But why this fury all that e’er was writ V90*176 (ff. 306v-310v)
Houses blown up have stopped a fire’s course
<A satyr. Ignis ignibus extinguitur>

Stout Hannibal before he came to age V90*177 (ff. 310v-312r)
Then up go we when wit and sense go down
<The Oxford alderman’s speech. To the Duke of Monmo[uth]>

A countess of fame V90*178 (ff. 312r-314v)
His bed should to bridges be common
<Satyr in its own colours. 1682>

Since revelling ballet and masquerade V90*179 (ff. 314v-317v)
They are not worth the reading of my verse
<The revels. 1682/3 [`Ballat’ in MS]>

Aid me Bellona what strange news is this V90*180 (ff. 317v-319r)
The plague of plagues the Devil pox ’em all
<Satyr — 1683>

Of all the sots with which the nation’s cursed V90*181 (ff. 319v-322r)
‘Tis better live a fop than die a fool
<The present state of matrimony>

First the sweet speaker William Williams I saw V90*182 (ff. 322v-323v)
But for them Ketch always has good equity
<Satyr on the Whiggish lawyers. 1683 [`ag.t’ (for `for’ uncorr?]>

For Warwick she keeps two stallions in pay V90*183 (ff. 323v-325r)
Who from his high throne was unpittied flung down
<Lampoon on several ladies. 1683>

Come Celia let’s agree at last V90*184 (f. 325r-v)
Will never be too late
<Lord Shrewsbury, to the Lady Ar[unde]ll>

If Aphra’s worth were needful to be shown V90*185 (ff. 325v-326v)
And what thou canst not comprehend admire
<The female laureate>

From deepest dungeon of eternal night V90*186 (ff. 327r-328v)
If you believe seducers more than me
<The ghost of the old H[ouse] of Com[mon]s. To the new one appointed to meet at Oxon. [`Oxford’ in TC]>

Since the united cunning of the stage V90*187 (ff. 328v-332v)
And praise what Durfey not translating writ
<Odi imitatores servum pecus. 1685>

Too long we have troubled the court and the town V90*188 (ff. 332v-333r)
And come out a blockhead as he went in
<The compleat fop. [16]85>

Alas I now am weary grown V90*189 (ff. 333v-334r)
They lose their honour too
<Norff[olk’]s fall 1685>

Let equipage and dress despair V90*190 (f. 334r-v)
Be minding an Apue
<A song on Basset [other sources have `on Alpue’ -meaning?]>

No longer may the English nation boast V90*191 (f. 335r-v)
Who to be cuckold gave himself the horns
<Scotch lampoon>

But that ’tis dangerous for man to be V90*192 (ff. 335v-336v)
The traveller must stop or lose his way
<To the memory of Mr John Oldham>

While there’s a monkey or buffoon V90*193 (ff. 336v-340r)
But ’tis not worth ere while to trace / Them further
<The bagnio scuffle>

Hail well returned triumphant day V90*194 (ff. 340r-341r)
Whose enemies’ malice makes it more secure
<A song of Dr Sprat’s on the k[ing’]s birthday>

Each man has [private] cares enow V90*195 (ff. 341r-342v)
Without the assistance poets give
<To the happy memory of our late sovereign L[ord] Cha[rles] the second>

Great Sir / If anything that miracle can do V90*196 (f. 343r-v)
‘Twill ne’er be done unless ’tis done by you
<To his present sacred Majesty>

Dear Julian having missed thee a long time V90*197 (ff. 343v-344r)
Your humble friend and servant H— Main
<To Robert Julian in prison>

Our rebel party of late V90*198 (ff. 344v-346r)
And the Whigs shall merrily sing
<A merry new ballad on Pr[ince] Perkin>

Of all the plagues mankind possess V90*199 (ff. 346r-350r)
Now out of date have child my muse
<Madam Le Croy>

Fools must be meddling in matters of state V90*200 (ff. 350r-352v)
The apartment for swiving in the verge of Whitehall
<[no title; 4 line introduction provides first line here. Poem proper begins `A great one I hear though famed for devotion’] [Title in other sources `Satyr on the ladies of honour 1686′]>

Older and wiser has long a proverb been V90*201 (ff. 352v-355v)
But that’s much better they say than to fight the Turk
<On the officers in the camp. 1686>

The widows and maids / May now hold up their heads V90*202 (ff. 356r-357v)
To delight both my lord and my lady
<Ballad. To the tune of Taking of snuff is the mode of the court>

Since scandal flies thick V90*203 (ff. 358r-361r)
And to clear ’em as I have done these
<The vindication. First part. 1686>

Since you have forgot V90*204 (ff. 361r-363v)
The town has been cloyed with already
<Vindication. The second part>

If devout Pawlet Mary V90*205 (ff. 363v-365r)
She’ll be banished the sight of the king
<A new ballad. or Truth needs no vindication>

All ye that know men and for virgins would pass V90*206 (ff. 365r-366r)
By concealing a brat and a pox is undone
<The lady’s mistake or The physicians puzzled. 1686>

Well did the fates guide this unlucky arm V90*207 (f. 366r-v)
He slew an atheist to preserve a fool
<The duel>

Now joy to the saints from the north and the west V90*208 (f. 367r-v)
But the son of a whore all places inherit
<The western law giver>

Wretch whosoe’er thou art that longst for praise V90*209 (ff. 368r-370r)
And warns his comrades to repent then dies
<Satyr on the poet>

Dear sweet Richards William V90*210 (f. 370v)
Who will come to your chamber as long as she hath shoes
<An epistle. From Mrs Mathews to Will[iam] Richards>

Tell me thou treasury of spite V90*211 (ff. 370v-375r)
Shall soon grow current coin with long
<A letter to Julian>

Of Clineas’ and Dametas’ sharper fight V90*212 (ff. 375r-376v)
For giant Bob like Will’s a dwarf of sense
<The duel>

Yes fickle Cambridge Perkin found it true V90*213 (ff. 376v-377v)
Of Sejanus’s statue made pots and brass kettles
<On burning the Duke of Monmo[uth’]s picture at Cambridge. G. Stepny. Questio. An vulgus sequitur fortuna. Et odit damnatos>

What art thou O thou new-found pain V90*214 (ff. 378r-380r)
To charming Paris yields her heart and bed
<The desire. A pindaric [Followed in TC by title, `Advice to Dr Oates not to be melancholy’, without page number]>

Hast thou at last that mother church too quitted V90*215 (ff. 380v-382v)
And have no hope of heaven but his word
<A new address to Mr Bayes on his late conversion to the Church of Rome>

What means the sun to rise with double light V90*216 (ff. 382v-385r)
So great a good was ne’er designed for less
<On 25th September being the Q[ueen’]s birth day. By N. Brady of Ch[rist] Ch[urch]>

Tell me no more where you have been V90*217 (ff. 385r-386r)
May this be the issue of their love
<On the marriage of the r[ight] honourable the Lady Ann Wilmot, by Placidia>

So comes the mighty Juno from above V90*218 (ff. 386r-387r)
Is both the entertainer and the feast
<Mr Sparks to the Duchess of Orm[on]d. On her reception into the B[isho]p of Oxon’s lodgings>

Whether we mortals love or no V90*219 (ff. 387r-388r)
Whilst yet for want of it the lovers die
<Upon love. In imitation of Mr Cowley [followed in TC by titles of 2 items not entered, `To a Lady whom he Refus’d to Marry’ and `Song by T. Brown’]>

In these our pious times when writing plays V90*220 (ff. 388r-389v)
And the full-buttoned cullies still be kind
<An epilogue spoken to the university of Oxon by Mrs Cook>

Once how I doted on this jilting town V90*221 (ff. 389v-392r)
For Newbury says great ladies give great claps
<The town life>

When lately King James whom our sovereign we call V90*222 (ff. 392r-393r)
‘Twill be well if their godliness turns to their gain
<The clerical cabal>

In doggerel rhymes we seldom use V90*223 (ff. 393v-395r)
Else swear our age wants wit as well as light
<The practical Quaker or the new lights. Velut inter ignes. Lunæ minores>

Cursed be thou dull unpointed doggerel rhyme V90*224 (ff. 395v-405v)
As when old Hyde was catched with rem in re
<A faithful catalogue of our most eminent ninnies. 1686/7 [the same hand as in #149 has entered some of the lines on f. 401v] [`Cætera desunt’]>

Much wine had passed with much discourse V90*225 (ff. 406r-407r)
Cried candles out I’ll do’t and turned to whore
<The Rose Tavern Club. 1687 [`to who.’ in MS]>

Williams thy tame submission suits thee more V90*226 (f. 407r-v)
If so then drawer light me down to shite
<On Sir W[illia]m W[illia]ms sol[icito]r gen[era]l. 1687>

Old Westminster the seat of kings whose law V90*227 (ff. 407v-408v)
But I must cease for I can’t reach thy praise
<The entry>

Let Oliver now be forgotten V90*228 (ff. 408v-409v)
Of honest good liquor reel home
<[no title] [TC title `Oliverus Redivivus’]>

When popular men do mount above their height V90*229 (ff. 409v-410r)
Its grievances we daily do increase
<The crisis>

On Saturday night we sat late at the Rose V90*230 (ff. 410r-411v)
Perhaps there had hung o’er new envoy
<A view of the religions of the town in a Sunday morning’s ramble. 1687>

Shews / That we your Majesty’s poor slaves V90*231 (ff. 411v-413r)
The over plus of the saints’ spirit
<To the king. The humble address of your Majesty’s poet laureate and others your Catholic and dissenting rhymers with the rest of the fraternity versifiers and sonneteers of the corporation of Parnassus>

When the king leaves off Sedley and keeps to the queen V90*232 (ff. 413r-414v)
That out of the nation it might not run
<The prophecy. 1687>

I sing of no heretic Turk or a Tartar V90*233 (ff. 414v-415r)
To prove such a poltroon to his prince
<Fumbumbis, or The mayor of Scarborough tossed in a blanket. by Wosley. 1687 [poltroon – an abject or contemptible coward]>

Warmed with the pleasures which debauches yield V90*234 (ff. 415r-417v)
And just at five this morning found my lodging
<The last night’s ramble>

One night Saint Peter in a rage from Rome V90*235 (f. 418r-v)
Smithfield and faggot will be all your gains
<The scaffold at Saint Paul’s>

The poets tell us idle tales to please us V90*236 (ff. 418v-419v)
And dog and monarch both immortalize
<On K[ing] J[ame]s pistolling a mastiff dog at Banbury in his progress>

A session of lovers was held t’other day V90*237 (ff. 419v-426v)
He had left being a man she would make him a beast
<The lovers’ session. 1687. In imitation of Sir John Suckling Session of poet[s] [`Jno’ in MS]>

A session of ladies was held on the stage V90*238 (ff. 427r-431r)
Since the goddess had made so equal a choice
<The session of ladies>

The court was scarce up when the sluices broke in V90*239 (ff. 431r-433r)
Stuck to the same sentence and baulked ’em each one
<A supplement to The session of ladies>

You Catholic statesmen and churchmen rejoice V90*240 (ff. 433r-434r)
For if this trick fail beware of your jacket
<The miracle. How the Duchess of Modena begged of the Blessed Virgin etc>

The talk up and down V90*241 (ff. 434r-436v)
And faith I think not sooner
<The statesman’s almanac, August 1688. Whereby it appears that a parliament can’t meet in any of the old months, by reason of unlucky prognostications, and a proposal for mending the calendar. Humbly offered to the packers of the next parliament. Prologue [followed by `The Almanack’ and `Epilogue’] [spelt `Propoposall’ (!)]>

Here lies an old worthy of what but the gallows V90*242 (ff. 436v-437r)
The other the gates of his head and each quarter
<Epitaph on Mr Allibone late titular judge>

Son Petres / Yours I received by the infernal post V90*243 (ff. 437r-438v)
Given at Hell Court and signed per me The Devil
<A letter from the Devil to Father Petre>

Of famous nuptials now we’ll sing V90*244 (ff. 439r-442r)
Which we refer to great Nassau
<On three late marriages 1688>

An invasion from Dutchland is all the discourse V90*245 (f. 442r-v)
On condition that you may depart with your lives
<All shams. 1688>

A year of wonders now is come V90*246 (ff. 442v-443v)
Till Louis does complete the toast
<Advice to the Pr[ince] of O[range]>

When James our great monarch so wise and discreet V90*247 (ff. 443v-444r)
That the bishops the bishops should throw out the bill
<Voyage to Chatham 1688>

Did you hear of the news an invincible fleet V90*248 (f. 444v)
For a parliament sunk and six regiments raised
<The invasion>

A thief that bravely bears away his prize V90*249 (f. 444v)
Let Heer van Brush or Tyburn be his doom
<On Lord Chancellor’s carrying the charter home>