The writings of a Patriot-Youth,
And fummon Innocence and Truth
To prop your caufe?Was this for You?— But Juftice does your crimes pursue ; And fentence now alone remains, Which thus, by Me, the court ordains : "That you return from whence you came, "There to be ftript of all your fame "By vulgar hands; That once a week "Old-England pinch you till you squeak; "That ribbald Pamphlets do pursue you, "And lies and murmurs, to undo you. "With every foe that Worth procures, And only Virtue's friends be Yours."
But tell me, David, is it true?
Lord help us! what will some folks do?
How will they curfe this ftranger!
What! fairly taken in for life!
A fober, ferious, wedded wife!
O fie upon you, Ranger!
III.
The clergy too have join'd the chat;
"A papift!-Has he thought of that?
"Or means he to convert her?!" Troth, boy, unless your zeal be ftout, The nymph may turn Your faith about, By arguments experter.
The ladies, pale and out of breath,
Wild as the witches in Macbeth,
Afk if the "deed be done!"
O, David! liften to my lay!
I'll prophefy the things they'll fay;
For tongues, you know, will run.
V.
"And pray, what other news d' ye hear?
"Marry'd! But don't you think, my dear,
"He's growing out of fashion?
"People may fancy what they will,
"But Quin's the only actor ftill,
"To touch the tender passion.
VI.
"Nay, madam, did you mind, last night, "His Archer? Not a line on't right!
"I thought I heard fome hiffes. "Good God! if Billy Mills, thought I, "Or Billy Havard would but try,
"They'd beat him all to pieces.
VII. ""Twas prudent though to drop his Bayes→→→ "And (entre nous) the Laureat says,
"He hopes he'll give up Richard. "But then it tickles me to fee, "In Haftings, fuch a fhrimp as he "Attempt to ravish Pritchard,
VIII. "The fellow pleased me well enough "In what d'ye call it? Hoadleystuff; "There's fomething there likenature:
"Juft fo, in life, he runs about,
"Plays at bo-peep, now in, now ou
"But hurts no mortal creature
"And then there's Belmont, to be fure "Oho! my gentle Neddy Moore !
"How does my good lord-mayor? "And have you left Cheapfide, my dear! "And will you write again next year, "To fhew your fav'rite player?
"But Merope, we own, is fine, "Eumenes charms in every line;
"How prettily he vapours! "So gay his dress, so young his look, "One would have fworn 'twas Mr. Cook, "Or Mathews, cutting capers."
Thus, David, will the ladies flout,
And councils hold at every rout,
To alter all your plays;
Yates fhall be Benedict next year,
Macklin be Richard, Taswell Lear,
And Kitty Clive be Bayes.
XII.
Two parts they readily allow
Are yours; but not one more, they vow;
And thus they close their spite:
You will be Sir John Brute, they fay,
A very Sir John Brute all day,
And Fribble all the night.
XIII.
But tell me, fair ones, is it fo?
"You all did love him once
What then provokes your gall? Forbear to rail-I'll tell you why; Quarrels may come, or madam die, And then there's hope for all. XIV.
And now a word or two remains,
Sweet Davy, and I close my firains:
Think well ere you engage;
Vapours and ague-fits may come,
And matrimonial claims at home,
Un-nerve you for the stage.
XV.
But if you find your spirits right,
Your mind at eafe, your body tight,
Take her; you can't do better:
A pox upon the tattling Town!.
The fops that join to cry her down
Would give their ears to get her..
"Well, and how does your David? Indeed, my dear creature,
"You've fhewn him a wonderful deal of good-nature;
"His bags are fo full, and fuch praises his due, “That the like was ne'er known—and all owing to you;
"But why won't you make him quite happy for life, "And to all you have done add the gift of a wife? Says Fortune, and fmil'd, "Madam Envy, God fave ye!
"But why always fneering at me and poor Davy? "I own that fometimes, in contempt of all rules, "I lavish my favours on blockheads and fools; "But the cafe is quite different here, I aver it, "For David ne'er knew me, 'till brought me by Merit,
"And yet to convince you-nay, Madam, no hiffes "Good-manners at leaft-fuch behaviour as this is!"
(For mention but Merit, and Envy flies out With a hifs and a yell that would filence a rout. But Fortune went on)" To convince you, I fay,
But the first was too great, and the last was too good, And as for the reft, the might get whom she cou'd.
Away hurried Fortune, perplex'd and half mad,
But her promife was pafs'd, and a wife must be had:
She travers'd the town from one corner to t'other,
Now knocking at one door, and then at another.
The girls curtly'd low as the look'd in their faces,
And bridled and primm'd with abundance of graces;
But this was coquettish, and that was a prude,
One ftupid and dull, t'other noify and rude;
A third was affected, quite careless a fourth,
With prate without meaning, and pride without
worth;
A fifth, and a fixth, and a seventh were such
As either knew nothing or something too much-
In short as they pafs'd, the to all had objections;
The gay wanted thought, the good-humour'd affec-
tions,
The prudent were ugly, the fenfible dirty,
And all of them flirts, from fifteen up to thirty.
When Fortune saw this she began to look filly, Yet ftill fhe went on till the reach'd Piccadilly; But vex'd and fatigu'd, and the night growing late, She refted her wheel within Burlington gate. My lady rose up, as she saw her come in, "O ho, madam Genius! pray where have you been?"
(For her ladyship thought, from fo ferious an air, 'Twas Genius come home, for it seems she liv'd there.)
But Fortune, not minding her ladyfhip's blunder, And wiping her forehead, cry'd, "Well may you wonder
"To fee me thus flurry'd ;"-then told her the cafe, And fighed till her ladyship laugh'd in her face. "Mighty civil indeed!"" Come, a truce, fays my lady,
"A truce with complaints, and perhaps I may aid ye.
"I'll fhew you a girl that-Here, Martin! go tell
"But the's gone to undrefs; by-and-by is as well"That I honour your scheme, I'll about it to day;" I'll fhew you a fight that you'll fancy uncommon, "The man shall be marry'd, fo pray now be easy, "And Garrick for once shall do something to please ye."
And then should her temper be fullen or haughty,
Her flesh too be frail, and incline to be naughty,
'Twould fret the poor fellow fo out of his reason,
That Barry and Quin would fet fashions next feason.
But Fortune, who faw what the Fury defign'd,
Refolv'd to get David a wife to his mind:
Yet afraid of herself in a matter fo nice,
She vifited Prudence, and begg'd her advice.
The nymph fhook her head when the bufinefs the
knew,
And faid that her female acquaintance were few;
That excepting Miss R ***—O, yes, there was one,
A friend of that lady's, the vifited none;
"Wit, beauty, and goodness, all met in a woman į "A heart to no folly or mischief inclin'd "A body all grace, and all fweetness a mind."
"O, pray let me fee her," fays Fortune, and fmil'd,
"Do but give her to me, and I'll make her my child
"But who, my dear, who?for you have not told
What methods he try'd, and what arts to prevail; All thefe, were they told, would but burden my tale→→→
In fhort, all affairs were fo happily carry'd,
That hardly fix weeks pafs'd away till they marry'd.
But Envy grew fick when the story she heard,
Violette was the girl that of all the most fear'd;
That your Honour would please, at this dangerous
crifis,
To take to your bofom a few private vices,
By which your petitioners haply might thrive,
And keep both themselves and Contention alive.
In compaffion, good Sir, give them fomething to
fay,
She knew her good-humour, her beauty and sweet-And your Honour's petitioners ever shall pray. nefs,
Her eafe and compliance, her taste and her neatness ;
From these she was fure that her man could not
HE pris'ner was at large indicted,
For that by thirst of gain excited,
One day in July laft, at tea,
And in the houfe of Mrs. P.
From the left breaft of E. M. gent.
With base felonious intent,
Did then and there a heart with strings,
Reft, quiet, peace, and other things,
Steal, rob and plunder; and all them
The chattels of the faid E. M.
The profecutor fwore, laft May
(The month he knew, but not the day)
HAT your Honour's petitioners (dealers in He left his friends in town, and went
And writers of fcandal, for mending the times)
By loffes in business, and England's well-doing,
Are funk in their credit, and verging on ruin.
That thefe their misfortunes, they humbly con-
ceive,
Arife not from dulnefs, as fome folks believe,
Upon a vifit down in Kent:
That staying there a month or two,
He spent his time as others do,
In riding, walking, fishing, fwimming;
But being much inclin'd to women,
And young and wild, and no great reafoner,
He got acquainted with the prisoner.
But from rubs in their way which your Honour has He own'd, 'twas rumour'd in thofe parts
And want of materials to carry on trade.
That they always had form'd high conceits of
their use,
And meant their last breath should go out in abuse;
But now (and they speak it with forrow and tears)
Since your Honour has fat at the helm of affairs,
No party will join them, no faction invite
To heed what they fay, or to read what they write;
Sedition, and Tumult, and Difcord are fled,
And Slander scarce ventures to lift up her head-
In fhort, public bufinefs is fo carry'd on,
That their country is fav'd, and the patriots undone.
To perplex them still more, and fure famine to
bring,
(Now fatire has loft both its truth and its sting)
If, in fpite of their natures, they bungle at praise,
Your honour regards not, and nobody pays.
YOUR petitioners therefore must humbly intreat
(As the times will allow, and your Honour thinks
meet)
That measures be chang'd, and some cause of com-
plaint
Be immediately furnish'd, to end their restraint;
Their credit thereby, and their trade to retrieve,
That again they may rail, and the nation believe.
Or elfe (if your wisdom fhall deem it all one)
Now the Parliament's rifing, and business is done,
That she ad a trick of stealing hearts,
And from fifteen to twenty-two,
Had made the devil and all to do:
But Mr. W. the vicar,
(And no man brews you better liquor)
Spoke of her thefts as tricks of youth,
The frolicks of a girl forfooth:
Things now were on another score,
He faid; for fhe was twenty-four.
However, to make matters short,
And not to trefpaís on the court,
The lady was 'difcover'd foon,
And thus it was. One afternoon,
The ninth of July laft, or near it,
(As to the day, he could not fwear it)
In company at Mrs. P.'s,
Where folks fay any thing they pleafe;
Dean L. and lady Mary by,
And Fanny waiting on Mifs Y.
(He own'd he was inclined to think
Both were a little in their drink)
The pris'ner afk'd, and call'd him coufin,
How many kiffes made a dozen?
That being, as he own'd, in liquor,
The question made his blood run quicker,
And, fenfe and reafon in eclipfe,
He vow'd he'd fcore them on her lips.
That rifing up to keep his word,
He got as far as kifs the third,
And would have counted t' other nine,
And fo all prefent did opine,
But that he felt a fudden dizziness,
That quite undid him for the business:
His fpeech, he said, began to falter,
His eyes to ftare, his mouth to water,
His breast to thump without ceffation,
And all within one conflagration.
Blefs me! fays Fanny, what's the matter?
And lady Mary look'd hard at her,
And ftamp'd, and wifh'd the pris'ner further,
And cry'd out, Part them, or there's murther!
That fill he held the pris'ner faft,
And would have stood it to the last;
But ftruggling to go through the reft,
He felt a pain across his breast,
A fort of fudden twinge, he said,
That feem'd almoft to ftrike him dead,
And after that fuch cruel fmarting,
He thought the foul and body parting.
That then he let the prisner go,
And stagger'd off a step or fo;
And thinking that his heart was ill,
He begg'd of Mifs Y.'s maid to feel.
That Fanny stept before the rest,
And laid her hand upon his breast;
But, mercy on us! what a ftare
The creature gave! No heart was there;
Soufe went her fingers in the hole,
Whence heart, and strings, and all were ftole.
That Fanny turn'd, and told the prisoner,
She was a thief, and so she'd chriften her;
And that it was a burning fhame,
And brought the houfe an evil name;
And if she did not put the heart in,
The man would pine and die for certain.
The pris'ner then was in her airs,
And bid her mind her own affairs;
And told his reverence, and the rest of 'em,
She was as honeft as the best of 'em.
That lady Mary and dean L.
Rofe up and faid, "Twas mighty well,
But that, in general terms they said it,
A heart was gone, and some one had it:
Words would not do, for fearch they must,
And search they would, and her the first.
That then the pris'ner dropp'd her anger,
And faid, the hop'd they would not hang her;
That all the did was meant in jest,
And there the heart was, and the rest.
That then the dean cry'd out, O fie!
And fent in hafte for justice I.
Who, though he knew her friends and pity'd her,
Call'd her hard names, and so committed her.
The parties prefent fwore the fame ;
And Fanny said, the pris'ner's name
Had frighten'd all the country round;
And glad fhe was the bill was found.
She knew a man, who knew another,
Who knew the very party's brother;
Who loft his heart by mere furprize,
One morning looking at her eyes;
And others had been known to fqueak,
Who only chanc'd to hear her speak:
For the had words of fuch a fort,
That though the knew no reafon for't,
Would make a man of fenfe run mad,
And rifle him of all he had;
And that she'd rob the whole community,
If ever she had opportunity.
The pris'ner now firft filence broke,
And curtly'd round her as the spoke.
She own'd, the faid, it much incens'd her,
To hear fuch matters fworn against her,
But that the hop'd to keep her temper,
And prove herfelf "eadem femper."
That what the profecutor fwore
Was fome part true, and fome part more:
She own'd she had been often feen with him,
And laugh'd and chatted on the green with him
The fellow feem'd to have humanity,
And told her tales that footh'd her vanity,
Pretending that he lov'd her vaftly,
And that all women elfe look'd ghaftly.
But then the hop'd the court would think
She never was inclin'd to drink,
Or fuffer hands like his to daub her, or
Encourage men to kiss and flobber her;
She'd have folks know fhe did not love it,
Or if the did, fhe was above it.
But this, the faid, was fworn of course,
To prove her giddy, and then worse ;
As the whofe conduct was thought "lævis,"
Might very well be reckon'd thievish.
She hop'd, the faid, the court's difcerning
Would pay fome honour to her learning,
For every day from four to past fix,
She went up-stairs, and read the claffics:
Thus having clear'd herself of levity,
The reft, the faid, would come with brevity.
And first, it injur'd not her honour
To own the heart was found upon her;
For fhe could prove, and did aver,
The paltry thing belong'd to her:
The fact was thus. This prince of knaves
Was once the humbleft of her flaves,
And often had confefs'd the dart
Her eyes had lodg'd within his heart:
That fhe, as 'twas her conftant fashion,
Made great diverfion of his paffion;
Which fet his blood in fuch a ferment,
As feem'd to threaten his interment :
That then she was afraid of lofing him,
And fo defifted from abusing him;
And often came and felt his pulfe,
And bid him write to docter Hulfe.
The profecutor thank'd her kindly,
And figh'd, and said she look'd divinely;
But told her that his heart was bursting,
And doctors he had little truft in;
He therefore begg'd her to accept it,
And hop'd 'twould mend if once the kept it.
That having no averfion to it,
She faid, with all her foul, she'd do it ;
But then the begg'd him to remember,
If he thould need it in December,
(For winter months would make folks fhiver,
Who wanted either heart or liver)
It never could return; and added,
'Twas her's for life, if once the had it.
The profecutor said, Amen,
And that he wish'd it not again;
And took it from his breaft and gave her,
And bow'd, and thank'd her for the favour;
But begg'd the thing might not be spoke of,
As heartless men were made a joke of.
That next day, whifp'ring him about it,
And asking how he felt without it,
He figh'd, and cry'd, Alack! alack!
And begg'd, and pray'd to have it back;
Or that the'd give him her's instead on't:
But the conceiv'd there was no need on't;
And faid, and bid him make no pother,
He fhould have neither one not t'other.
That then he rav'd and storm'd like fury,
And faid, that one was his "de jure,"
And rather than he'd leave pursuing her,
He'd fwear a robbery, and ruin her.
That this was truth she did aver,
Whatever hap betided Her;
Only that Mrs. P. fhe faid,
Mifs Y. and her deluded maid,
And lady Mary, and his reverence,
Were folks to whom the paid fome deference; And that the verily believ'd
They were not perjur'd, but deceiv'd.
Then doctor D. begg'd leave to speak,
And figh'd as if his heart would break.
He faid, that he was madam's furgeon,
Or rather, as in Greek, chirurgeon,
From "cheir, manus, ergon, opus"
(As fcope is from the Latin "fcopus").
That he, he said, had known the prisoner
From the first fun that ever rife on her;
And griev'd he was to fee her there;
But took upon himself to swear,
There was not to be found in nature
A fweeter or a better creature ;
And if the king (God bless him) knew her,
He'd leave St. James's to get to her:
But then as to the fact in queftion,
He knew no more on't than Hephæftion ;
It might be falfe, and might be true;
And this, he faid, was all he knew.
The judge proceeded to the charge,
And gave the evidence at large,
But often caft a sheep's eye at her,
And ftrove to mitigate the matter,
Pretending facts were not fo clear,
And mercy ought to interfere.
The jury then withdrew a moment,
As if on weighty points to comment;
And right or wrong, refolv'd to fave her,
They gave, a verdict in her favour.
But why or wherefore things were so, It matters not for us to know: The culprit, by escape grown bold, Pilfers alike from young and old, The country all around her teazes, And robs or murders whom the pleases.
To thefe, detefting praife, I write, And vent, in charity, my fpite.
THE EAGLE, AND THE ASSEMBLY or BIRDS. With friendly hand I hold the glafs
HE moral lay, to beauty due,
I write, Fair Excellence, to you;
Well pleas'd to hope my vacant hours
Have been employ'd to fweeten yours.
Truth under fiction I impart,
To weed out folly from the heart;
And fhew the paths, that lead aftray
The wand'ring nymph from wifdom's way.
I flatter none. The great and good
Are by their actions understood;
Your monument if actions raife,
Shall I deface by idle praise ?
I echo not the voice of fame,
That dwells delighted on your name;
Her friendly tale, however true,
Were flatt'ry, if I told it you.
The proud, the envious, and the vain,
The jilt, the prude, demand my strain ; VOL VIL
To all, promifcuous as they pals;
Should folly there her likenefs view,
I fret not that the mirror's true;
If the fantastic form oftend,
I made it not, but would amend.
Virtue, in every clime and age, Spurns at the folly-foothing page, While fatire, that offends the ear Of vice and paffion, pleafes her.
Premifing this, your anger ipare, And claim the fable you who dare.
THE birds in place, by factions prefs'd, To Jupiter their pray'rs addrefs'd; By fpecious lies the state was vex'd, Their counfels libellers perplex'd; They begg'd (to stop feditious tongues) A gracious hearing of their wrongs. Jove grants their fuit. The Eagle fate, Decider of the grand debate.
The Pye, to trust and pow'r preferr'd, Demands permiffion to be heard. Says he, Prolixity of phrafe
You know I hate. This libel fays,
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