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EXT these a merry Monk appears in place,
Who follow'd hunting more than faying mafs.
As bravely mounted as a lord from court;
No well-fed abbot bore a comelier port:
And when in ftate he ambled, all might hear
The jingling of his bridle, loud and clear,
As far almoft as any chapel bell.
This lordly monk, once keeper of a cell,
Held good St. Bennet's order too severe;
St Maure to his nice judgment did appear
Too ftrict and rigid, for old dotards fit,
But fcorn'd by priests of fpirit and of wit.
One fcripture-text he blotted with his pen,
That fays, all hunters are ungodly men.
What fhoals of converts would this doctrine raise!
Shall monks in study pass laborious days?
Turn o'er dull fathers, and worm-eaten books,
With dazzled eyes, and melancholy looks;
Toil with their hands to make the garden neat,
Turn cooks, and bafte the roaft with their own sweat? This Austin humbly did; Did he? (faith he)
Austin may do the fame again for me.
He lov'd the chace, the hounds' melodious cry,
Hounds that ran fwiftly as the swallows fly.
His fleeves, I faw, with furs all lin❜d within,
From Ruffia brought, the finest squirrels skin ;
(Hair shirts, he said, provok'd the blood to fin.)
His hood beneath, his double chin to hold,
'Twas faften'd with a curious clasp of gold.
A love-knot at the greater end there was;
His head close shav'd, and smooth as any glass:
His ftrutting paunch was feldom disappointed; :
His broad full face fhone as it were anointed.
His eyes were fleepy, rolling in his head,
That fteam'd like furnaces of molten lead.
Supple his boots, his horfe he proudly fate;
You'd take him for a bifhop by his state:
Fafts had not made him meagre like a ghost,
But fat he was, and goodly as mine host.
A fat plump fwan he lov'd, young, but full grown;
His horfe was fleek, and as the berry brown.
THE FRYAR.
A Fryar next, to ev'ry female dear,
All the four orders never had his peer.
Wanton, diverting ftill in profe or rhime,
He many couples married in his time;
Some young ones at his own expence he wed,
And, to their husbands' grief, foon brought to bed.
A frank companion, fecret, often tried,
To gentle dames a confeffor and guide;
Licentiate of his order once, and then,
For one the curate had, he fhrifted ten:
He with a finile would their confeffion hear,
No foul had cause his penances to fear.
His abfolutions pleasant, foft and mild;
He ftroak'd 'em as a parent does his child.
To a poor order lib'ral ladies fly,
With golden presents eafy penance buy :
For man is obftinate, and hard of heart;
He keeps his money, though he feels the smart.
But to poor Fryars you must filver give,
'Tis not with pray'rs and fasting they can live.
He stitch'd within his tippet pretty knives,
With filver pins, small presents for kind wives.
In cheerful company he fung all day;
To help his voice, could on the cittern play:
His arms were brawny, few fuch weights could fling,
Strong as a champion for an English king.
All inns and taverns in the town he knew,
But from the poor he prudently withdrew;
To rich and lib'ral penitents inclin'd,
To thofe was meek, and of an humble mind;
None in appearance more devout could be,
The ablest beggar of his house was he :
He farm'd that income, and procur❜d a grant,
No holy brother should disturb his haunt.
Coarse was his habit when a begging Fryar,
In wanton love-days gorgeous his attire.
Of fineft cloth was then his demi-cope,
No mendicant, but stately as a pope.
Something he humm'd betwixt a lifp and fong,
To make his English sweet upon his tongue;
His little pigs-eyes gave unequal light,
Like small stars twinkling in a frosty night.
The good wives chuckled, wherefoe'er he came,
A useful Fry'r, and Hubert was his name.
THE MERCHANT.
ITH these a merchant in a motley coat,
Well mounted too, and bearded like a goat;
A Flanders beaver on his head he wore ;
His boots were neatly buckled on before:
He prov'd with reasons strong, and formal face,
T' increase in wealth was to increase in grace;
Greedy of gold, and popular efteem,
He wifh'd the fea were fhut to all but him.
Traffick in money he had study'd well,
Knew where th' exchange would rife, and where it fell:
In debt to none, in bargains strict and nice;
Thought unprompt payment was the greatest vice.
What he with pains had got, with care he'd fave,
Not charitable, for he feldom gave,
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