The dean, and his landlord, a jolly comrade,
Resolved for a fortnight to swim in delight;
For why, they had both been brought up to the trade
Of drinking all day, and of whoring all night.
His landlord was ready his deanship to ape
In every debauch but committing a rape.
This Protestant zealot, this English divine,
In church and in state was of principles sound;
Was truer than Steele to the Hanover line,
And grieved that a Tory should live above ground.
Shall a subject so loyal be hang'd by the nape,
For no other crime but committing a rape?
By old Popish canons, as wise men have penn'd 'em,
Each priest had a concubine _jure ecclesiae_;
Who'd be Dean of Fernes without a _commendam_?
And precedents we can produce, if it please ye:
Then why should the dean, when whores are so cheap,
Be put to the peril and toil of a rape?
If fortune should please but to take such a crotchet,
(To thee I apply, great Smedley's successor,)
To give thee lawn sleeves, a mitre, and rochet,
Whom wouldst thou resemble? I leave thee a guesser.
But I only behold thee in Atherton's[2] shape,
For sodomy hang'd; as thou for a rape.
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