Time was, when none would cry that Oaf was me,
But now you strive about your Pedigree:
Bauble and Cap no sooner are thrown down,
But there’s a [Muss] of more than half the Town.
Each one will challenge a Child’s part at least,
A sign the Family is well increas’d.
Of Foreign Cattle there’s no longer need,
When we’re supply’d so fast with English Breed,
Well! Flourish, Countrymen; drink, swear and roar,
Let every free-born Subject keep his Whore;