Quin's Soliloquy On Seeing The Embalmed Body Of Duke
HUMPHREY, AT ST. ALBAN'S.
A PLAGUE on Egypt's arts, I say--
Embalm the dead--on senseless clay
Rich wine and spices waste:
Like sturgeon, or like brawn, shall I,
Bound in a precious pickle lie,
Which I can never taste!
Let me embalm this flesh of mine,
With turtle fat, and Bourdeaux wine,
And spoil the Egyptian trade,
Than Glo'ster's Duke, more happy I,
Embalm'd alive, old Quin shall lie
A mummy ready made.