( 9 )
To dine them well, and breakfast 'um with gellies,
And caudles hot to warm their wambling bellies;
And if the cash, where she could not unlock it,
Were close secur'd, to pick her Husbands pocket.
Another something a more thrifty sinner,
To invite the Parson twice a week to dinner;
The other vows a purple Pulpit-cloth,
With an embroyder'd Cushion, being loth
When the fierce Priest his Doctrine hard unbuckles,
That in the passion he should hurt his knuckles.
Nay, in the Church-yard too was no small throng,
And on the Window-bars in swarms they hung:
And I could see that many Short-hand wrote,
Where listning well, I could not hear a jote;
Friend, this is strange, quoth I, but he reply'd,
Alas! your ears are yet unsanctifi'd.
Cuds so, I had even almost now forgot
To tell you th' chiefest thing of all; what's that?
How the good women in a row do come,
To bring the New-born babe to Christendome.
The Midwife, Captain of the gang, walks first,
Laden with Childe, and Naples-bisket crust;
Most reverently she steps, drest all in print,
If she be not a Saint the Devils in't:
For so demure she looks, that you would guess
She were some holy penitent Votaress,
With eyes and mouth set in her Looking-glass,
On purpose for to carry Babe of Grace:
Nor is't a thing inspir'd, but got by Art,
And Practice, as the Beggar learnt to Fart.
Then follow th' Guests, each one in her degree,
Most punctual in their Parish-Heraldry.
Being come to Church, they keep their close order,
And go on, and go on, and go farther and farther,
Till they arrive where for the Priests ease, God wot,
Stands a pretty, little, stone Syllabub-pot;
Water 't had in't, though but a little, God knows,
Scarcely to wet the tip of the Childs nose:
Men
