[974]Dr. Gill, the father, was a very ingeniose person, as may appeare by his writings. Notwithstanding he had moodes and humours, as particularly his whipping-fitts:—
As Paedants out of the schoole-boies breechesdoe clawe and curry their owne itches
As Paedants out of the schoole-boies breechesdoe clawe and curry their owne itches
Hudibras, part ... canto ...
This Dr. Gill whipped ... Duncomb, who was not long after a colonel of dragoons at Edgehill-fight, taken pissing against the wall. He had his sword by his side, but the boyes surprized him: somebody had throwen a stone in at the windowe; and they seised on the first man they lighted on.[975]I thinke his name wasSir John D. (Sir John Denham told me the storie), and he would have cutt the doctor, but he never went abroad but to church, and then his army went with him. He complained to the councill, but it became ridicule, and so his revenge sank.
Dr. Triplet came to give his master a visit, and he whip't him. The Dr. gott ... Pitcher, of Oxford, who had a strong[976]and a sweet base, to sing this song under the schoole windowes, and gott a good guard to secure him with swords, etc., and he was preserved from theexamenof the little myrmidons which issued-out to attach him; but he was so frighted that he bes ... him selfe most fearfully.
In Paul's church-yard in LondonThere dwells a noble firker;Take heed you that passLest you tast of his lash* * * * * * *Still doth he cryTake him up, take him up, Sir,Untrusse with expedition.Oh the birchen toolThat he winds i' th' schoolFrights worse than an inquisition.If that you chance to passe there,As doth the man of blacking;He insults like a puttockO're the prey of the buttockWith a whip't a ... sends him packing.Still doth he cry, etc.For when this well truss't trounserInto the school doth enterWith his napkin at his noseAnd his orange stuft with clovesOn any ... he'l venter.Still doth, etc.A French-man voyd of EnglishEnquiring for Paul's steepleHisPardonnez-moyHe counted a toy,For he whip't him before all people.Still doth he cry, etc.A Welsh-man once was whip't thereUntill he did bes... himHisCuds-pluttera-nailCould not prevailFor he whip't the Cambro-Britan.Still doth he cry, etc.[977]A captain of the train'd-band;Yclept[978]Cornelius Wallis;He whip't him so soreBoth behind and beforeHe notch't his .... like tallyes.Still doth he cry, etc.For a piece of beef and turnip,Neglected, with a cabbage,He took up the pillionOf his bouncing mayd Jillian;And sowc't her like a baggage.Still doth he cry, etc.A porter came in rudelyAnd disturb'd the humming concord,He took-up his frockAnd he payd his nockAnd sawc't him with his owne cord.Still doth he cry, etc.
In Paul's church-yard in LondonThere dwells a noble firker;Take heed you that passLest you tast of his lash* * * * * * *Still doth he cryTake him up, take him up, Sir,Untrusse with expedition.Oh the birchen toolThat he winds i' th' schoolFrights worse than an inquisition.
If that you chance to passe there,As doth the man of blacking;He insults like a puttockO're the prey of the buttockWith a whip't a ... sends him packing.Still doth he cry, etc.
For when this well truss't trounserInto the school doth enterWith his napkin at his noseAnd his orange stuft with clovesOn any ... he'l venter.Still doth, etc.
A French-man voyd of EnglishEnquiring for Paul's steepleHisPardonnez-moyHe counted a toy,For he whip't him before all people.Still doth he cry, etc.
A Welsh-man once was whip't thereUntill he did bes... himHisCuds-pluttera-nailCould not prevailFor he whip't the Cambro-Britan.Still doth he cry, etc.
[977]A captain of the train'd-band;Yclept[978]Cornelius Wallis;He whip't him so soreBoth behind and beforeHe notch't his .... like tallyes.Still doth he cry, etc.
For a piece of beef and turnip,Neglected, with a cabbage,He took up the pillionOf his bouncing mayd Jillian;And sowc't her like a baggage.Still doth he cry, etc.
A porter came in rudelyAnd disturb'd the humming concord,He took-up his frockAnd he payd his nockAnd sawc't him with his owne cord.Still doth he cry, etc.
'Sir,Didyoume this epistle send,Which is so vile and lewdly pen'd,In which no line I can espieOf sense or true orthographie?So slovenly it goes,In verse and prose,For which I must pull down your hose.''O good sir!' then cry'd he,'In private let it be,And doe not sawce me openly.''Yes, sir, I'le sawce you openlyBefore Sound[980]and the company;And that none of thee may take heartThough thou art a batchelour of Art,Though thou hast payd thy feesFor thy degrees:Yet I will make thy ... to sneeze.And now I doe beginTo thresh it on thy skinFor now my hand is in, is in.First, for the themes which thou me sentWherin much nonsense thou didst vent,And for that barbarous piece of GreekFor which in Gartheus[981]thou didst seeke.And for thy faults not few,In tongue Hebrew,For which a grove of birch is due.Therfore me not beseechTo pardon now thy breechFor I will be thy ...-leech, ...-leech.Next for the offense that thou didst giveWhen as in Trinity thou didst live,And hadst thy ... in Wadham College multFor bidding singQuicunque vult[982]And for thy blanketting[983]And many such a thingFor which thy name in towne doth ringAnd none deserves so illTo heare as bad as Gill—Thy name it is a proverb still,Thou vented[984]hast such rascall geer.Next thou a preacher were.For which the French-men all cry Fie!To heare such pulpitt-ribauldrie[985].And sorry were to seeSo worthy a degreeSo ill bestowed on thee.But glad am I to sayThe Masters made the
'Sir,Didyoume this epistle send,Which is so vile and lewdly pen'd,In which no line I can espieOf sense or true orthographie?So slovenly it goes,In verse and prose,For which I must pull down your hose.''O good sir!' then cry'd he,'In private let it be,And doe not sawce me openly.''Yes, sir, I'le sawce you openlyBefore Sound[980]and the company;And that none of thee may take heartThough thou art a batchelour of Art,Though thou hast payd thy feesFor thy degrees:Yet I will make thy ... to sneeze.And now I doe beginTo thresh it on thy skinFor now my hand is in, is in.First, for the themes which thou me sentWherin much nonsense thou didst vent,And for that barbarous piece of GreekFor which in Gartheus[981]thou didst seeke.And for thy faults not few,In tongue Hebrew,For which a grove of birch is due.Therfore me not beseechTo pardon now thy breechFor I will be thy ...-leech, ...-leech.Next for the offense that thou didst giveWhen as in Trinity thou didst live,And hadst thy ... in Wadham College multFor bidding singQuicunque vult[982]And for thy blanketting[983]And many such a thingFor which thy name in towne doth ringAnd none deserves so illTo heare as bad as Gill—Thy name it is a proverb still,Thou vented[984]hast such rascall geer.Next thou a preacher were.For which the French-men all cry Fie!To heare such pulpitt-ribauldrie[985].And sorry were to seeSo worthy a degreeSo ill bestowed on thee.But glad am I to sayThe Masters made the