Atheistical Villain, who, as he is going Chain’d to the Galleys, is redeem’d from them by Don Quixot in his frantick fit; after which, being extreamly pleas’d at the success, he, to make his deliverer merry, entertains him with this Vindication of a Rogue, which is indeed a Satyr upon Humanity in general.  I will add agen to our Criticks morsel, for he notes but the four first lines in a place, and give ye one whole Stanza.

      When the World first knew Creation,
      A Rogue was a Top profession;
      When there were no more
        In all Nature but four,
    There were two of ’em in Transgression. 
      And the seeds are no less
      Since that we may guess,
    But have in all Ages bin growing apace;
      And Lying and Thieving,
      Craft, Pride and Deceiving,
    Rage, Murder and Roaring,
      Rape, Incest and Whoring,
  Branch out from Stock, the rank Vices in vogue,
    And make all Mankind one Gigantical Rogue.

And so on:  Now tho I grant this might be look’d on as prophane in it self, without application, yet when spoken by one of his character, whom I design to expose, it is no more than natural Character, and has so little the quality of Prophaneness, that my impartial Reader will find a very good Moral in it, by the odious representation of such Atheistical impudence; yet our good natur’d Critick makes me the Prophaner.  He, cramm’d full of wonderful Justice, makes me the Vice my self, that only act the true duty of a Poet, and hold up the Glass for others to see their Vices in, but his Malice will not be Authentick with every one, no more than his next Addle Criticism, upon my using the word Redeemer will bear the Test; for he that will argue that that word may not be innocently spoken in Temporal Matters, because it is sometimes us’d as a Divine Attribute, will prove himself rather a Coxcomb than a Casuist:  And yet for only this poor word the Cat with Nine Tails are up again, and the Inquisitor in a rage cries out, these insolencies are too big for the Correction of a Pen. [Footnote:  Collier, p. 198.] Very fine, what horrible correction this deserves, is easily judg’d, and I believe ’twill be own’d too, that if Doctor Absolution (when the charitable Prelates good Nature and Purse got him out of his Stone Apartment yonder, into which his bigotted obstinacy and not his tender Conscience had thrown him) did not think him his Redeemer, and thank him as his Redeemer, he does not only deserve Correction for his wicked ingratitude, (which especially in one of his Coat, is an immoral Cheat upon Heaven) but to have the same punishment that another of his Coat and Kidney lately had, for a Cheat upon the Government and People.

But to go on:  In the next place he finds fault with my making sport with Hell, and recites six Lines, which are made of Dogril Stuff, on purpose by the Duke’s Servants, who, for his diversion, Acting a kind of Farce are to fright Sancho with Goblings and Furies—­but to shew his own Wit in the first Onset here, he has notably made the two first Lines half nonsence.