excellent temper of his royal master was unable to digest. This was
by writing a lampoon called "The Insipids," in which the person and
character of Charles are treated with most merciless and irreverent
severity. It begins thus:

Chaste, pious, prudent, Charles the Second,
The miracle of thy Restoration
May like to that of quails be reckoned,
Rained on the Israelitish nation;
The wished-for blessing, from heaven sent,
Became their curse and punishment.

For this satiric effusion the author was banished from the court.

PROLOGUE.

Lord, how reformed and quiet are we grown,
Since all our braves and all our wits are gone!
Fop-corner now is free from civil war,
White-wig and vizard make no longer jar.
France, and the fleet, have swept the town so clear,
That we can act in peace, and you can hear.
'Twas a sad sight, before they marched from home,
To see our warriors in red waistcoats come,
With hair tucked up, into our tireing-room.
But 'twas more sad to hear their last adieu:
The women sobbed, and swore they would be true;
And so they were, as long as e'er they could,
But powerful guinea cannot be withstood,
And they were made of play-house flesh and blood.
Fate did their friends for double use ordain;
In wars abroad they grinning honour gain,
And mistresses, for all that stay, maintain.
Now they are gone, 'tis dead vacation here,
For neither friends nor enemies appear.
Poor pensive punk now peeps ere plays begin,
Sees the bare bench, and dares not venture in;
But manages her last half-crown with care,
And trudges to the Mall, on foot, for air.
Our city friends so far will hardly come,
They can take up with pleasures nearer home;
And see gay shows, and gaudy scenes elsewhere;
For we presume they seldom come to hear.
But they have now ta'en up a glorious trade,
And cutting Morecraft[1] struts in masquerade.
There's all our hope, for we shall shew to-day
A masking ball, to recommend our play;
Nay, to endear them more, and let them see
We scorn to come behind in courtesy,
We'll follow the new mode which they begin,
And treat them with a room, and couch within:
For that's one way, howe'er the play fall short,
To oblige the town, the city, and the court.

Footnote:
1. In the conclusion of Beaumont and Fletcher's play of "The Scornful
Lady," Mor