ROCHESTER: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 the
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 top to toe.
Frighted at my own mischiefs I have fledAnd bravely left my life's defender dead,
Broke housed to break chastity, and dyed
That floor with murder which my lust denied.
Pox on't, 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.
BOY:The readiest way, my lord, 's by
Rochester.
--
John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester