PART II. (page 69)
No Brimstone-Whore need fear the Lash from me,
That part I’ll leave to Brother Jeffery.
Our Gallants need not go abroad to Rome,
I’ll keep a Whoring Jubilee at home.
Whoring’s the Darling of my Inclination;
A’n’t I a Magistrate for Reformation?
For this my Praise is sung by ev’ry Bard,
For which Bridewell wou’d be a just Reward.
In Print my Panegyricks fill the Street,
And hir’d Gaol-birds their Huzza’s repeat.
Some Charities contriv’d to make a show,
Have taught the Needy Rabble to do so:
Whose empty Noise is a Mechanick Fame,
Since for Sir Belzebuh they’d do the same.