|Earl of Rochester|
To the Postboy.
Son of a whore, God damn you, can you tell|
A peerless peer the readiest way to hell?
I've out-swilled Bacchus, sworn of my own make
Oaths would fright Furies, and make Pluto quake;
I've swived more whores more ways than Sodom's walls
E'er knew, or the College of Rome's Cardinals:
Witness heroic scars, Look here, ne'er go,
Cerecloths and ulcers from the top to toe;
Frighted at my own mischiefs I have fled,
And bravely left my life's defender dead;
Broke houses to break chastity, and dyed
That floor with murder which my lust denied:
Pox on it—why do I speak of these poor things;
I have blasphemed my God and libelled kings:
The readiest way to hell—come, quick, ne'er stir—
The readiest way, my Lord, 's by Rochester.
Restoration Literature. Paul Hammond, ed.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. 108.
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