FROM THE ISLAND IN THE MOON
i
1
When old corruption first begun, 1
Adorn'd in yellow vest,
He committed on flesh a whoredom—
O, what a wicked beast!
2
From then a callow babe did spring. 5
And old corruption smil'd
To think his race should never end,
For now he had a child.
3
He call'd him Surgery & fed 9
The babe with his own milk;
For flesh & he could ne'er agree:
She would not let him suck.
4
And this he always kept in mind; 13
And form'd a crooked knife,
And ran about with bloody hands
To seek his mother's life.
Isl. in Moon, chap, vi—'"Ah!" said Sipsop, "I only wish Jack Tearguts had had the cutting of Plutarch; he understands anatomy better than any of the Ancients; he'll plunge his knife up to the hilt in a single drive, and thrust his fist in, and all in the space of a Quarter of an hour: he does not mind their crying—tho' they cry ever so, he'll Swear at them, & keep them down with his fist, & tell them that he'll scrape their bones if they don't lay still & be quiet—What the devil should the people in the hospital, that have it done for nothing, make such a piece of work for?" "Hang that!" said Suction, "let us have a song." Then the Cynic sang:—'
Only printed by EY i. p. 193.
5 then] there EY.13 in] on EY.
