Plutoes Proclamation concerning his Infernall pleasure for the Propagation of Tobacco

True Newes and strange my Muse intends to write,
From horrid concaues of eternall night:
Whereas a damned Parliment of Deuils,
Enacted lawes to fill the world with euils.
Blacke Pluto sundry proclamations sends
Through Barathrum, and summons all the fiends,
To know how they on earth had spent their times,
And how they had beclog'd the world with crimes.

First spake an ancient Deuill ycleaped Pride,
Who said he wandred had, both farre and wide,
Dispersing his Ambitious poisnous bane,
As farre as Luna doth both waxe or wane.

Next summond was, a rakehell furgound curre,
Cal'd Auarice, (whose rotten haulking murre)
Was like to choake him ere he could declare
How he had soules possest with monies care.
That so they fill their Coffers to the brim,
All's one, let sweet saluation sinke or swimme.

The third that to the Parlament came in
Was murder, all inroab'de in scarlet sinne,
Who told great Limboes monarch he had done
Such deeds, as thousand soules to hell hath wonne.

The fourth that entred to this damned Iurie,
Was sweet sinne Leachery, a smugfac'd furie:
Said that the world should his great paines approue,
Where vniuersall lust is counted loue.

The fift was an ilshap'd decrepit Crone
Cald Enuy, all consum'd to skinne and bone:
And shee declar'd what labour he had spent
To Honours, and to Vertues detriment.

Then sixt, did Burst-gut Gluttony appeere,
Whose sole delight is all in belly cheere:
Who told how he mens greedy mindes did serue
To cram their bodies, whilst their soules did sterue.

The seuenth was Sloth, an vgly lothsome wretch,
Who being cald, did gape, and yawne, and stretch:
I haue (quoth he) done as your highnesse wil'd,
I all the world with Idlenesse haue fil'd,
In lazie Creatures members I doe lurke,
That thousands will be hang'd, before the'ile worke.

Then Pluto said, these ills, you haue done well,
In propagation of our kingdome, Hell:
But yet ther's one thing which I will effect,
Which too long hath been buried with neglect;
And this it is, in Rich America,
In India, and blacke Barbaria.
Whereas the peoples superstion show
Thei're mine, because no other God they know,
In those misguided lands I caus'de to breed
A foule contagious, stinking Manbane weed:
Which they (poore fooles) with diligence doe gather
To sacrifice to me that am their Father:
Where euery one a Furies shape assumes,
Befog'd and clouded with my hel-hatch'd fumes.
But these blacke Nations that adore my name,
Ile leaue in pleasure: and my mischiefes frame
Gainst those who by the name of Christians goe,
Whose Author was my finall ouerthrowe.
And therefore straight diuulge our great commands,
That presently throughout all Christian lands,
Tobacco be disperst, that they may be
As Moores and Pagans are, all like to me.
That from the Palace to the paltry nooke,
Like hell in Imitation all may looke.
In vice let Christians, passe both Iewes and Turks,
And let them outpasse Christians in good works.
Let euery Cobbler with his durty fist,
Take pride to be a blacke Tobaconist:
Let Idiot Coxcombes, sweate tis ex'lent geare,
And with a whiffe their reputations reare.
Let euery Idle adle-pated gull
With stinking sweet Tobacco stuffe his skull.
Let Don fantasticke smoake his vastie gorge.
Let rich and poore, let honest men and knaues,
Be smoak'd and stunke vnto their timelesse graues.
Thus is our last irreuocable will,
Which though it dam not man, I know twill kill.
And therefore straite, to euery Christian Nation
Diuulge, and publish, this our Proclamation.

THis Proclamation was no sooner doon,
But thousand furies to and fro did runne,
T' acomplish what their Master Pluto spoke
And fully fill the world with stinke and smoake:
And now the man thats o'ne of feeling rest,
By reason of his age whose teeth hath left
The vasty Cauerne of his mumping cud,
Must haue Tobaco to reuiue his blood:
The glistring Gallant, or the gallant Gull.
The ieering pander, and the hackney Trull.
The Roysting Rascall, and the swearing Slaue,
The Hostler, Tapster, all in generall craue
To be a foggy, misty, smoaky iury
Vpon this vpstart newfound Indian fury.
Great Captaine Gracelesse, stormes, protests, and sweares,
Heele haue the rascall Poet by the eares,
And beat him, as a man would beate a dogge,
That dares once speake against this precious fogge.
It is the iewel that he most respects
It is the gemme of ioy his heart affects:
It is the thing his soule doth most adore,
To liue and loue Tobaco, and a whore:
Hee'le cram his braines with fumes of Indian grasse,
And grow as fat with't as an English Asse.
Some say Tobaco will mens dayes prolong,
To whom I answer, they are in the wrong.
And sure my conscience giues me not the lie
I thinke twill make men rotten ere they die.
Old Adam liu'd nine hundred thirty yeere,
Yet nere dranke none, as I could read or heare:
And some men now liues ninety yeeres and past,
Who neuer dranke Tobaco, first nor last.
Then since at first it came, from faithlesse Moores
(And since tis now more common far then whores)
I see no reason any Christian Nation
Should follow them, in deuilish imitation:
So farewell pipe, and pudding, snuffe and smoake
My Muse thinks fit to leaue, before she choake: