To Captain Hungry

Do what you come for, captain, with your news;
That's sit and eat: do not my ears abuse.
I oft look on false coin to know't from true;
Not that I love it more than I will you.
Tell the gross Dutch those grosser tales of yours,
How great you were with their two emperours;
And yet are with their princes: fill them full
Of your Moravian horse, Venetian bull.
Tell them, what parts you've ta'en, whence run away,
What states you've gull'd, and which yet keeps you' in pay.
Give them your services, and embassies
In Ireland, Holland, Sweden; pompous lies!
In Hungary and Poland, Turky too;
What at Ligorne, Rome, Florence you did do:
And, in some year, all these together heap'd,
For which there must more sea and land be leap'd,
If but to be believed you have the hap,
Than can a flea at twice skip in the map.
Give your young statesmen (that first make you drunk,
And then lye with you, closer than a punk,
For news) your Villeroys, and Silleries,
Janins, your Nuncios, and your Tuilleries,
Your Archdukes agents, and your Beringhams,
That are your words of credit. Keep your names
Of Hannow, Shieter-huissen, Popenheim,
Hans-spiegle, Rotteinberg, and Boutersheim,
For your next meal; this you are sure of. Why
Will you part with them here unthriftily?
Nay, now you puff, tusk, and draw up your chin,
Twirl the poor chain you run a- feasting in.—
Come, be not angry, you are Hungry; eat:
Do what you come for, captain; there's your meat.