This is a reproduction of a book from the McGill University Library collection. Title: The regent and the king, or, A trip from Hartwell to Dover : a poem / Author: Lawler, C. F. Publisher, year: London : J. Johnston, 1814 The pages were digitized as they were. The original book may have contained pages with poor print. Marks, notations, and other marginalia present in the original volume may also appear. For wider or heavier books, a slight curvature to the text on the inside of pages may be noticeable. ISBN of reproduction: 978-1-926810-40-9 This reproduction is intended for personal use only, and may not be reproduced, re-published, or re-distributed commercially. For further information on permission regarding the use of this reproduction contact McGill University Library. McGill University Library www.mcgill.ca/library PR4878 L59R44 1814 McLennan Lawler , C F The regent and the king , or , ■fro Hartwell to Dover 71853098 THE REGENT AND THE KING. 1 State Coaches, White Cockades, I sing, In honour of a gouty King, Who, with our Regent, hob-a-nob , Rode thro* the streets to please the mob. 2 From Hartwell all the way to Hover, They sped to meet the R 1 lover— (That pretty youth, whose flattering tongue Strove to cajole Miss T— L— ; 3 And, failing there, but still resolv’d In wedlock’s noose to get involv’d; Who courts a R_*»— 1 Northern dame. Of lineage long, and longer name.) B 348543 6 4 Years twenty-three this king had found And munch’d his meals on English ground. Content with safety and with peace, Tho* dieted on bread and cheese. 5 And oft, with pious rage, no doubt. He d d Napoleon and the gout ; Forc’d by the first the world to roam. And by the last laid up at home. 6 For gout in human limbs will revel. Playing with rest the very devil, And goading with its scorpion stings Even the sacred joints of kings. 7 Years twenty4hree this king had sighed With all the pangs of wounded pride $ Hurl'd from the height of greatness down. To live unnotie ’d and unknown. 8 But now, in fate’s fantasticthour. Recall’d to dignity and power. All fashion’s gnats, a motley crew. With rapid motion round him flew. 7 9 The King, tho* most unseemly fat. Most gracefully receiv’d each gnat, Tho* now and then an oath would flow, As the rude gout assail’d his toe. 10 “ Dear Monsieur Comte, I am so glad— “ Oh J d-- — n dis gout, it drive me mad !— “ Sweet Monsieur Perigord, I beg, — « D — «.n me, take care, you hurt my leg ! — 11 te A crown ! mon Dieu, who could believe it, “ God give me manners to receive it i (t A crown! — oh ! curse you ! mind my foot; w I’ll have you guillotin’d, you brute. IQ tf This torment makes me quite forgetful, t( Testy, low-spirited, and fretful,— f ‘ Bear with my weakness, friends, and know*®' “ D-*-— nation ! now it racks my toe !” 13 Now down to Hartwell, sweating, blowing. Spent with fatighe, with honour glowing; A grim dragoon, with look of thunder. Struck all the villagers With wonder. 8 14 For never, while an exile poor. Did soldier come to Bourbon's doors Nor page, to bid him take his mutton. And drink with England’s matchless g— 16 Our court, forsooth, is too refin’d To smile where fortune looks unkind; And far too politic to frown On him who wears or finds a crown. 16 So 'twas with Louis, when forsaken. Just left to cook his eggs and bacon; No mobs came dangling at his heels, No royal page disturb'd his meals. 17 No centinel, with martial stride. Measur’d his house from side to side ; No guard escorted him about — His firmest comrade was the gout ! 18 The tide was turn'd, a fierce hussar. Bedeck'd in all the pride of war, Now came, his bit his courser munching. As he would eat it for his luncheon. 9 19 Next came a squadron, arm’d throughout. Pigs, oxen, geese, and sheep, to rout j Their brows were crown’d ; for, far and nigh. Pigs, geese, and sheep, and oxen, fly. 20 State coaches next, a splendid line. Fitted for royal limbs divine ; When those said limbs would, now and then. Expose themselves to vulgar men. 21 Now they were sent, the seats new brush’d— (Or else the velvet deeply blush’d. That he so lately left to beg, Should there enthrone his gouty leg.) 22 Now they were sent, new brush'd the seats. To drag great Louis thro’ the streets ; Yes, truth, a chaise and one — no more, In humble style, the monarch bore. 23 His Christian Majesty’s backside On crimson now was rais’d to ride ; Tho’ yesterday, that sacred part Had scarce done honour to : a cart.*.. 10 2 4 Behind these carriages so gay. Marching along in grim array. Appear’d a second martial troop, A gloomy-solemn visag’d group. 25 The poor King star’d, and well hd might. Half stunn’d with wonder, joy, and fright For strange and unaccustom’d he To all this pomp of royalty. 26 Strong spasms ran thro’ every joint, His body too, grown en bon point , Made it a work of toil and time, For majesty the steps to climb. 27 And many a hearty execration Burst out against his inclination; Altho’ he strove with all his 1 might To smother them, and be polite. 28 At length the downy seat he greeted. And being comfortably seated, Cried, in his intervals of pain- — “ Now Louis is himself again !’* 11 £9 Who right and left beside him sat— Who held this foot, and who held that— The daily editors, dull fellows. Forgot, or did not choose to tell us. 30 Also, how many painful workings, Occurr’d from sudden jolts and jirkings ; How many times the monarch swore. In his slow progress to Stanmore. 31 That these things happen’d, none can doubt. Who ever travell’d with the gout ; And those who always rode without it. Need not be sceptical about it. 32 At Stanmore, Britain’s golden c , Too kind* too affable by half. Waited with pious condescension. To pay the monarch due attention. 33 Well might the giddy thoughtless throngs. That flock’d around, God bless their tongues ! Break forth in undistinguish’d shout. Stunning the welkin with wild rout. 12 3 4 The shoutings ran to Hyde Park gate, Where double crowds, impatient, wait. Anxious enough, no doubt, to see The impulse of their extacy. 35 Gig, coach, landau, mule, donkey, filly, Block’d all the road thro’ Piccadilly j Blest, but to gain a transient stare At France’s hope, and Britain’s heir; 36 And France’s hope, and Britain’s heir. Were, truth, a most congenial pair ; Two round, tunbellied, thriving rakes. Like oxen fed on linseed cakes. 37 From side to side they look’d and bow’d, And smil’d facetious on the crow’d ; — The crowd, enchanted with their style. Return’d a shout for every smile. 38 Long by the milliners, I wot. Will this fair day be unforgot. Window and roof, lamp-post and steeple, Were crested with cockaded people. 13 39 The money then in ribbons spent, And cost of festive merriment, T6 celebrate the fall of Nappy, Had made ten thovisand paupers happy* 40. At Grillion’s the prggessiQ^ stay’d, And now commenc’d a new parade-*- “ Sir,” cried the P ! — “ “upon my word, ff I fain would speak, could I be heard j 41 •• I fain, sir, would the subject broach* « Which introduc’d yon tp my coach ; *• Would take you by the hand, and say, “ By G — d, sir, ’tis a happy day ! 42 '* “ Your Majesty I gratula&e “ Upon this happy turn of fate; *< Now go, and take from me a lesson-*- “ That France may reckon you a blessing.” 43 The king replied— “ Your English money “ Has done for that usurper, Boj* ey ; “ You are von Prince of heaven’s creation ; “ Your people von dam generous nation ! c 14 44 “ You, sir, of royalty a sample. Shall teach me, by your bright example, te How man's affections to subdue — “ Yes, mighty Prince, I’ll copy you." 45 What pity that this king, so wise. Had not look’d thro’ the nation’s eyes, Then had the monarch pry’d again Into poor virtue’s specimen. 46 Then had appall’d the eye of reason A sight, which to express were treason j A sheet of royal paper blotted, ( A solar orb most foully spotted. 47 Pity the monarch had not there Truth’s patent spectacles to wear, r Then from the object had h£ started. Which made him now so tender hearted— 48 But to proceed.— The P replied. And with affected feeling, cried, " Give me your hand, you hearty sinner, " We’ll talk it over after dinner !” 15 49 Meanwhile the mob, resolv’d to cheer All that they could, or could not hear. While the twin-stars perform’d their spouting, Kept up a most invet’rate shouting. 50 Such cursing, swearing, shrieking, pressing. So gay and laughably distressing. Such mounting upon backs to see The countenance of majesty— ?- 51 That they were happy, trebly blest, Who, by mere manual labor, prest So near, in spite of shoves and blows. As to discern the Royal nose. 52 And happiest he of all his race Who saw the measure of his face ; And mark’d, at once, his cheeks so florid. Chin, mouth, and nose, and eyes, and forehead. 58 Yet all that witness’d him, so loyal, Swore that his nose was truly Royal, *Twas great, magnificent, and Roman, And equall’d by the nose of no man. 10 S4> His mouth, illustriously wide. Govern’d his fade from side to side, A sort of intercepting main, Which cleft the nose and chin in twain. 55 Further to say, I had been poz’d. But one who saw the mouth unclos’d. Declar’d, 'twas Desolation’s scene — - The grinders few, and far between* 56 But these appear’d to vulgar eyes.. To be of most illustrious size. Like aged trunks, whose batter’d form Had borne the brunt of ra^ny a storm. 57 His eyes were very Royal tpo, Of size immense, and colour bltie ; His forehead lofty ; but his chin. Oh 1 dire disgrace, was monstrous thin. 5 & Such was describ’d the hearty sinner* Who went to C n H- — e to dinner ; With high distinction greatly blest, And treated as a Royal guest, 17 SB That he enjoy’d the splendid feast. And drank full bottles five at least. And felt his greatness multiplied. May very fairly be implied. 60 And rumour, with malicious sneer, Has whisper’d in the poet’s ear. Strange tales of follies then committed. When wine poor Keason had outwitted. 61 These I pass over, since the bard In mercy finds his best reward ; And seeketli not, with harsh lampoons. To bastinado courtly loons. 62 If satire in his verse be found, ’Tis truth alone inflicts the wound, He woos the tenderest of the Nine, And blends no poison in. his line. 63 Where’er he hurts, let those who feel Blame not his motives, but his zeal. Which ever prompts him to be chiming. Whene’er he finds good food for rhyming. 18 64 Constrain’d by mercy, I forbear, To tell the gambols practis’d there, The Bacchanalian frolics play’d. When dignity aside was laid, 65 When, waxing warm with wit and wine. Anxious, like ancient Jove to shine. Their fierce rebellious passions broke Thro’ weak constraint’s enfeebled yoke, 66 No, if they frolic’d, let the tale Be never whisper’d to the gale j The bard will never rudely sing The wanton wanderings of a King. 67 Now beam’d the morn, when road and street Should taste another splendid treat. Since, levee sports and feasting over, The Monarch started off for Dover. 68 Fearful the Monarch was, perchance, Lest his new protegees of France Might fancy he had quite forgo' em, And was, in fact, no friend at bottom. 19 69 And, their allegiance being tender. Slippery, perhaps, might be, and slender 5 Therefore all fears to drive away. He swore to start without delay. 70 A R 1 Admiral, whose heart Appears his second weakest part, Exceeded only by his head, Quite worn away with weight of lead — 71 Was order’d to bring round to Dover A fleet, to guard the monarch over ; Lest some poor Yankee privateer Should intercept his great career. 72 Poor C— — e, whose soul, all men know. Was never daunted yet by foe, For ne’er by foe, nor danger, yet. Was that same courage e’er beset $ 73 But from his bold and fierce campaigns, When love and wine besieg’d his brains. His spirit would not stand aloof. But always bear the test of proof 20 74 Tho’ never yet in battle wounded, Nor ever yet by fear confounded ; T’were slanderous inference to draw. That in his courage was a flaw. 75 Set him before a girl or glass. And neither. this nor that should pass Who then, with sland’rous tongue, unmeet, Shall sting the Admiral of the Fleet* 7 6 What tho’, while foes were on the seas, He chose to stay at home at ease ; T'was only diffidence, ’tis known. That kept his Royal courage dowm 77 He ofttimes would have sallied forth. And scour’d the main from south to north-~ Have driv’u each hostile fleet to port. Rode tempests thro’, and call’d it sporty 78 Had he pursu’d the course he lov’d. He had a second Nelson prov’d. But modesty, that foe to merit. Always rein'd in his lofty spirit. 21 79 Some twice or thrice that first of forms Had he expos’d to ocean’s storms, "Some twice or thrice had deign’d to brave The perils of the wind and wave. 80 And, perhaps, a little fear might rise. When black’ning storms obscur’d the skies. Lest the portentous gloomy evil Should hurl his highness to the devil. 81 But mightiest heroes, now and then. Might feel a spa m, likeoommon men ; Yet, spite of such brief perturbation. Their courage bear no imputation. 8£ Now flutt’ring broad, ’twixt earth and sky. The r 1 admiral’s flag wav’d high. Cast its bright shadow o’er the seas. And hail’d, with virgin kiss, the breeze. 88 Had dazzling O h been there. To mark her lover’s alter’d air. How had she listen’d to his lay. Won by his streamer, blythe and gay{ D 22 84 Jack chew’d his quid, and roll’d his eyes, Bursting with anger and surprise; And mutter’d, tho’ he dared not vent To public ears his discontent: 85 “ Zounds ! wh^t new kickshaw governs now, tc A gilt ball on an oaken bough. “ A fluttering, flaunting. May-day piece r “ A lump of gaudiness and grease. 86 “ What could the lubber do, if Boreas “ Chose to kick up his tricks uproarious ; “ And how the de’il would he behave, “ While o’er the deck wave drove on wave. 87 “ Why d n me, I suppose to bed, ff He’d run to hide his coward head, (C Or sneak behind a cask of prog ; And sit at table till eleven : 62 Wine forms their elegant delights ’Till time proclaims the noon of night ; Then to some highly favour’d fair. To crown their pleasures, they repair ; 63 Thus Britain’s heirs their hours divide, Pleas’d if themselves are satisfied j And let the world wag as it will. Their only care is Time to kill. 20 64 < Well might the dock-director then Feel queer, to see the first of men Hurt his illustrious tongue by talking Of fir and tow, and cranes and caulking. 65 Next went the monarch to the tow’r. Determin’d not waste an hour : From room to room, delighted,, flew* Look’d beasts and gems and arm'ry thro’. 66 “ What’s this ? what’s that ? Pray, sir, ex- plain !”— — " This, sir, a thumb-screw, made in Spain " And that, your Majesty, ’tis said, "The axe which lopp’d Anne Bullen’s head.” 67 ct Poor Anna !” sigh’d the Czar* " sad fall! " What arms are those against the wall ?” " — Those, sire, the great Armada bore, "To devastate our English shore !” 68 “ Aye,” said the Monarch, “ silly elves ! " Could’nt at last protect themselves ! " Go on, good sir, the day grows late, “ *Tis forty minutes after eight!” — v#* 21 69 — t( Queen Bess behind this curtain seen !” ‘‘Don’t,” cried the Czar, “nickname the “ Queen ; “ For Queens are very sacred things, “ And next to Emperors and Kings !” 70 The blushing guide, with modest look. Bow’d to the mighty man’s rebuke ; And vow’d, when he recover’d breath. Henceforth to say — E lizabeth. 71 This conversation serves to show Crown’d heads their own importance know : That if yon wound one of the breed. The rest from sympathy will bleed. 72 Next to the Bank the Monarch drove. Where wealth transfix’d the Russian Jove: Then Mister Manning, full of fire. Felt himself grow some five feet higher. 73 And ever and anon, profound. His courtly noddle touched the ground* To give his foreign Majesty A taste of his humility. D 22 74 for tho* to vulgar folks, in troth. His services come somewhat loth. He hath a most obliging sweetness. When he can do a turn for greatness* 75 Next to the Opera they resort. To fix an hour their moving court, To show their splendors to the many. And hear the tones of Trammezani. 76 There Britain's Baal, his guests between. Enjoy’d the magic of the scene, 'Till sudden came a Royal dame. And clapp’d a night-cap on his fame. 77 efore surpass’d. And the most splendid was the last. 1 36 John Bull, to please this mighty Czar, Hath, doubtless, strain’d his purse so far, That hence he must restrain his cravings, And live upon the royal leavings. 137 Yes, faith, he now is so bereft, There’s scarce a haunch of venison left ; And as to claret, luckless elf, There’s not a glass left for himself. 138 He has no fatted bucks to slaughter ; Nothing to slake his thirst but water; Yet tho’ himself he hath so slighted. The Czar will go away delighted. 35 139 Yes, by his Emperorship, I wot, Our grandeur won’t be soon forgot. And of our court and civic glories He’ll carry home some wond’rous stories 140 On Russian records we shall stand. Doubtless, a very fairy land. Where all the streets are lin’d with gems. And all the folks wear diadems. 141 Then let us be content and sing, God save the Regent and the King j T he sire, of majesty a sample. The son, that copies his example. finis . Printed by Hamblin and Seyfang, Garlick-Hill, Thamet ttrcet. Jn the Press, and speedily wMd £>e published) in 3 vols. 12m* . Price l6«. 6d. boards , A MONTH IN TOWN. 3 Satirical jsouel. BY THE AUTHOR OF “ The General-Post Bag” “ Rejected Odes” Sec. &c. See. o— — — This Novel will be found to possess peculiar interest. It em- braces all scenes worthy of notice that have taken place in pur gay Metropolis since the introduction of the great Personages ; — it likewise possesses Anecdotes which will se^ve to show the pause of the rupture of the Alliance between two Exalted Personages, &c. In Foolscap, 8 vo. neatly hot-pressed, Price 4s. 6d. boards, A New Edition of THE GENERAL-POSTBAG; OR, NEWS, FOREIGN and DOMESTIC . REING THE Contents of a Letter Bag, lately dropped out of one of the Southern Mails. TO WHICH IS ADDED LA BAGATELLE. e By HUMPHRY HEDGEHOG, Esc*. Author of u Rejected Odes,” Sfc. - O M Amongst the letters introduced into this volume, will be found various Amatory and Political Epistles from the P-— . e of Or ge to the P — ■ ■ -ss C- • ; Lord C gh to Lord L— p — 1 ; Napoleon to Lucien ; Louis XVIII. to the P — R — ; the Luke of C— — 1— d to Col. M‘M ; the Duke of Cl — to the P R— — ; the Duke to the Duchess of W — 11 — g_toa; the Q of Wirt — mb — g to Her M- ; Lprd V— 1— tia to Lord By-n ; Sir Humphrey D— y to Lord St— h— pe, &c. &c. g A 1 1 3 .3 THE JR -£ BROOD ? <$*£• 8fC, dWteentij Iftitfon. THE R 1 BROOD; OR, AN ILLUSTRIOUS HEN AND HER PRETTY CHICKENS. a immm, By PETER PINDAR, Jun. Author of the Royal Bloods, S[C, %c. “Whose was the hard, unfeeling, heart. That forc’d the Hen and Chick to part? Who counsell’d the malicious deed, To break a feeble, bending, reed ? Was it that hollow, faithless, Bird, The eldest chick of tiie ? Or that old scratching Hen of strife, That hatch’d this Chicken into life ?” 0 , : PUBLISHED BY E. WILSON, 88, CORNHILL, AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. 1814 . Price Is. Gd. A POEM, &c. 1 A HEN, a farmer’s pride and care, Who lives at W— or elsewhere, Once cackl’d in a foreign clime, And roosted there a length of time. 2 In G she first drew breath, Oh! had she tarried there till death! Some people scruple not to say, Curs’d be the hour she came away, 3 But this is foreign to the tale : Facts are my theme, let them prevail ; The Hen was tender, young, and brown, Her feathers soft as cygnet’s down, A 4 4 Her shape was good, her stature slight, Not tall, nor yet a Bantam quite ; Her eyes were of a greyish hue, And, like most Hens, she had but two. 5 Our Farmer saw the stately bird, I mean Old Farmer — - — the : He knew the Hen was thorough game, And thought her tractable and tame. 6 Steady and solid as old Time, And just arriving at her prime, Not flighty nor inclin’d to roam, As Hens too often do, from home. 7 Fleas d with her looks, the Farmer swore He’d add the Pullet to his store ; No other bird possess’d his mind, For Love, the poets say, is blind. 8 Pheasants, and partridges, and larks, That sport in fields, in woods, and parks ; Sweet nightingales, the pride of spring, That love in plaintive strains to sing; Blackbirds, and thrushes, with the notes That issue from their tuneful throats, Were slighted for a foreign Hen, A custom ’mongst great farming men. 10 The Pullet now became his own, And sometimes perch’d upon the th— , At midnight roosted by his side, And shar’d his happiness and pride. 11 A few short months had pass’d away, When, grateful, she began to lay ; Egg after egg enrich’d her nest, All which old Farmer G ■ ■ ■ possest ; 12 In time the eggs tq Chickens grew, As eggs, when set on, mostly do ; The brood became the parents’ care, And very pretty chicks they were. 13 John Bull, to generous views alive, Was pleas’d to see the Chickens thrive ; With liberal hand their wants supplied, And fed them a parent’s pride. 14 Time mov’d along its stealthy pace, And star’d the Chickens in the face; Who now were grown up Cocks and Hens, And had their families by tens : 15 In fact, they multiplied so fast, John was dissatisfied at last ; It matter’d not who wanted bread, The Hen and Chickens must be fed ;— 16 A Hen, whose avarice was found To stretch beyond all decent bound ; Whose constant practice and delight Was scratching, morning, noon, and night, 17 And Chicks, that ne’er were taught to know The blessings which from prudence flow ; But fond of riot, waste, and pride, With scarce a virtue for their guide ;— 18 Chicks, that no labour, time, nor art, Could prompt to act a useful part; With heads too bulky to contain A knowledge of the worth of grain. 19 That grain theii^ parents scratch’d in heaps,' For which the starving labourer weeps : In secret pines, opprest with care. And dies, the victim of despair. 20 That grain, which venal courts misuse, To aid their own ambitious views. Wring from the public by degrees. And spend in any way they please; 21 Waste it amongst a servile race, The country’s ruin and disgrace ; Slaves, who, in infamy grown did, Would barter heav’ii away for gold. 22 ’Twas labour wasted to com plain. Or urge th’ enormous rise of gr&in ; Their crops were always well Supplied, And r crops are deep and wide. 23 Ye Nine ? your pow’rful aid ihbpart ; Divine possessors of my he&rt ! Ye, who mid loftiness and sihofce Ten thousand ragged bards ftivdke ; 8 24 Nymphs of the sacred fount ! attend, And prove yourselves the Poet’s friend ; Tis r game appears in view : Assist me, ladies, to pursue. 25 The foremost of the r— brood. Who broke his shell, and cried for food* Turn’d out a Cock of manners rare, A fav’rite with the feather’d fair. 26 For them, he crow’d at early morn, And cull’d the choicest grains of corn ; For them, he trimm’d his glossy beak, And kept his feathers smooth and sleek. 27 They figur’d in his nightly dream, Their beauties were his daily theme ; He strutted o’er the farm with pride, And numbers cackl’d by his side. 28 But, though his love was sought by all. Game, dunghill, bantam, squab, and tall, Among the whole, not one in ten Could please him like a tough old Hen. 9 29 For this, he left a youthful mate, 'And doom’d her to a widow’d state ; Although he flapp’d his wings, and swor§; To love till life should be no more \ 30 Although he pledg’d himself to be A pattern of fidelity ; Vow’d on her footsteps to attend. Her mate, her guardian, and her, friend 31 All, all, his promises were vain ; He only wedded her for grain ; Then serv’d her, when he got his finds, As lately he has serv’d his friends 32 Poor easy souls ! they little thought A Chicken which themselves had taught, One they had toil’d for night and day, Could, Judas-like, his friends betray ; — 33 Friends, who hdd followed in his train, In Summer’s heat and Winter’s rain ; Worn all their feathers to the Stumps, And bar’d their unprotected ‘rfimps *10 34 Friends, who for years at his desire Had grubb’d in every sort of mire; Scratch’d all the filthiest kennels through. And did what none beside would do - 35 Friends, who w^re feeble, sport ; Of more than ordinary sizfe, To catch the wary pilotV eyes.* X99 Perhaps, ’tis no where to he .found ; At least, no where on ^British ground ; From this deluded; country fled, And over other countries ; spread. tit Perhaps, it fortify’# the heart Of the world’s Wonder., Bonaparte; Made light and easy his repose, When bivouac’ing in Russian snows. 111 Kept up his spirits through the frost, Though his men’s gaiety was lost; Attended on 'him day and night* And plann’d his ignominious flight* 112 Ah ! who Time’s spectacles can buy, And into future ages pry ? Ah ! who can say if, soon or late. This foe to -peace shall meet his fate ? 113 « e, that has spread 'abroad his fanje* Id gain’d a never-dying name. Yes, whilst mankind have breasts to feel, Not curs’d, like him, with hearts of steel, 26 114 Whilst murders, cruelty, and lust, Are execraed by the ju$£, His name shall dwell upon the tongue, Detested by the old and young. 115 The widows’ and the orphans’ tears Shall fill his mind with boding fears, Torment him, ’mid the pomp of shew, With all the pangs the damned know. 116 Muse ! let us quit despotic thrones : Hark ! ’tis expiring freedom groans. Sure, dignity can ne’er await On petty tyrants or on great. 117 True dignity, the muse replies, Adorns the virtuous and the wise ; As often in a peasant seen, As with a monarch or a queen. 118 Reader ! let charity prevail ; Excuse digression from the tale. Once more, I turn towards the Brood,— Fit subjects for satiric food. 27 119 ’Tis said the eldest Chick intends, Assisted by his present friends, When next the Birds in council meet', To lay a statement at their feet ; 120 Disclose the causes which induc’d The partner of his stately roost To live secluded in a nest, Apart from his indulgent breast. 121 Then, through the medium of the Owls, The carrion Crows, and barn-door Fowls, A Magpie, for the purpose taught, Will openly address the court ; 122 Stand up, with gravity of course. And move the r Chick’s divorce ; Move him full liberty to choose A mate congenial to his views. 123 ’Tis thought the Birds will then agree, And pass a solemn, sage, decree. To set the former match aside. And some less faulty Hen provide: 28 124 One, that may suit the r-r-^4-1 ta^t£; Like Dame Fitz — - — «t, old and chastie How fat, no matter, or how tough ; If virtuous, ’twill be quite, enough. 125 What n then, will all the feather’d race, (I mean the well-fledg’d tribe in place,) Will they permit an injur’d Bird To be condemn’d unseen., unheard ? 126 Will they with wounded feelings sport. And cast a ^tigma on the court? Will they, to please a faithless mate, Forget their duty to the state ? 127 Are there no Eagles ’mid the throng ? Birds, free and pow’rful, bold and strong ? Birds, who can teach the other fowls The diff’rence ’twixt themselves and Owls ? 128 Teach them, if possible, to know How much the Birds at large they owe? Warn them, before they pass an act, To ascertain the real fact ? 29 129 To them the cause must be referr’d, For there alone it can be heard ; Then, when the subject’s fairly tried, Make them impartially decide. THE END. Maturio*, Howford'biuldiogs, Fcnehnrch-atraet. Stoomr lEtrtttott* The Eldest Chick OF THE R L brood; THE Crtal of tt»c So'ue BEFORE JUDGE. BEAR? AND HER APPEAL TO THE ASSEMBLY OF BIRDS. Including the Accusations of THE TOAD AND THE VIPER; WITH THE SECRET EXAMINATIONS BY Lord Jackatt fy Justice Hawk . % <£ramr r 1 dfafite, Of the Nineteenth Century,, By PETER PINDAR, Esg. * The Chick, of whom I sing or speak. Was high-fed, gallant, plump, and sleek; His plumage of the gaudiest hue That Art could form and Nature, too. I pass, that Birds of bad report Fill’d up the r— Chicken’s court ; I speak not of the horned Beasts That fill’d his house and shar'd his feast); I pass by that old stinking Goat, Whom he had rais’d to highest note; — I cite alone, (onr case to prove,) The r PERSECUTED DOVE!’ LONDON: Published by ^OHN FAIRBURN, 2 , Broadway, Ludgate-hiD, * " (Pacing the Old Bailey.) PRICE ONE SHILLING AND SIXPENCE. ADVERTISEMENT. THE Reader is informed, that, according to a decree^ which had passed the assembly of birds, every subject, from the Plebeian to the Noble, was compelled to wear a certain badge, or mark, of one or more letters. Whether they bore any numerical sense, or not, we cannot pretend to say; but, from most authentic sources, we have procured a knowledge of those which distinguished the various cha- racters introduced in this Fable, and give them as follow : The Toad S. J. D. The Viper • L. D. Lord Jackall E. M. Justice Hawk N. C. 1st Jack-daw W. C. 2d ditto R. B. Judge Bear L. E. Doctor Owl • • T. E. The stinking Goat M. H. The Owl, President of the Assembly C. A. The Brewhouse Cock S. W. The fighting Cock C. J. The scribbling Bee hi. W. The V ulture •••••••«•••••••••• S. V. G. The Eagles %S the Assembly •••• | A FABLE, &c. I. IN verse you’ve lately understood The story of the r Brood ; And such a brood, I dare be swore, No country ever saw before. II. In ampler scope of ambling metre To paint each trait, each glorious feature. Each gallant act, each r— trick, That dignifies the eldest Chick, III. Is Peter’s task ; whose honest pen The elder Cock and elder Hen Hath blazon’d forth in many a lay, And rais’d the wonder of their day. A 4 IV. That Birds and Beasts were always able To talk and act, * at least in fable* To prove, I need not waste a rhyme — The truth’s as old as iEsop’s time. V. That various Birds, of various feather, Have parley held and join’d together ; That Beasts, of different size and station, Have compact form’d on great occasion ; VI. Is so well known, I nee d not stop A short apology to drop ; For mingling here, in concourse thick, The Dove, the Toad, the r — - Chick ; VII. The Viper, too, whose deadly sting Might kill a Princess or a King ; — The Bear , the Jackall, and the Hawk , Who each on various bus’ness talk. VIII. The Chick, of whom I sing or speak,. Was liigh-fed, gallant, plump, and sleek; His plumage of the gaudiest hue That art could form and nature too. 5 IX. Upon a dunghill , proud and high. He’d strut before the public eye ; While envious partlets view’d the Bird, And inly long’d to be prefer’d. X. His happy Favorite to be, How sigh’d each longing, gazing, she ! And mark’d his graceful toss of head. Enamour’d of his noble tread / XI. It, from necessity or fate. So chanc’d, this Chick must have a mate ; Strange whims on r Birds will seize, And novelty those whims must please. XII. To choose a Bride, he would not deign, Among his own congenial train, But sought a mate, his roost to grace, Among the harmless cooing race: XIII. A gentle Dove, and fair to view, Of graceful form, of loveliest hue ; With her, in wedlock’s fetters join’d. He hop’d pure nuptial bliss to find. 6 XIV. But diff rent tempers, diff rent natures. Of bliss, are sadly-boding features, And seldom breed, in married life. Aught but unhappiness and strife. XV. Could but the Dame a Hen become, She had been fitted for her doom : No jealous pains had rack’d her breast. No anguish could her soul molest. XVI. She had beheld, without a sigh, Her Husband’s gay inconstancy ; Though he his favors might divide Among an hundred Hens beside. XVII. Or could her Cock become a Turtle , Such as, in am’rous groves of myrtle, Coo their soft loves in tenderest notes, While strains of fondness swell their throats ; XVIII. O happy, happy, had they been ! Bright constancy had blest the scene, And life flow’d on in one glad stream. Reflecting joy’s enchanting beam 1 7 XIX. But, dire reverse ! no vow could change The Cock’s instinctive am’rous range ; No earthly tie prevent the Dove 'To feel the pang of slighted love. XX. A little while, (I own it true,) The bliss that Hymen gives, she knew ; A little while, with honied pow’r, Sweet love and rapture rul’d the hour. XXI. But soon her love began to cloy. And Spousy sigh’d for varied joy ; Yes, to his former nature true, He other game would fain pursue. XXII. Was there an antiquated Hen , In fashion’s wide extensive ken, Though old or tainted with the roop, This graceless Cock would seek her coop ; XXIII. And, if she chose to give a rout, He’d flap his wings and strut about, While other Hens, in glittering rows. Sigh’d, 4 how delighfull they crows !’ 8 XXIV. Meanwhile, deserted and alone, The Dove was left ; with plaintive moan, In solitude’s neglected vale, To coo her sorrows to the gale. XXV One tender Doveling blest her fate. And sooth’d her for her absent mate ; Within her solitary nest She clasp’d the darling to her breast ; XXVI. Its infant charms, its innocence, Could casual gleams of joy dispense, And bid a sense of bliss pervade E’en sorrow’s eofd and cheerless shade. XXVII. Long time ago, historians say. The Eagle o’er the Birds held sway ; But those good days are past and gone. As long experience hath shewn. XXVIII. A Sparrow , or a chattering Jay , By turns have held imperial sway ; A gaudy Peacock, or a Swan, The throne of Birds has sat upon. XXIX, Sometimes a fell voracious Kite Hath rul’d them with ferocious might ; Sometimes a Parrot, prone to talk, A Buzzard now, and now a Hawk . XXX. Sometimes a meek and harmless Wren , Whose neck was twisted soon ; and then A courtier Wolf has seiz’d the helm And threaten’d to devour the realm l XXXI. ‘ A Wolf?’ some, with surprize, will say 4 A Beast o’er Birds maintain the sway ?’ But let such know, whoe’er they be, Those discords happen frequently. XXXII. The laws of nature to confound, With study and research profound, The statesman wastes the midnight oil And triumphs in .the senate’s broil. XXXIIL Once, by an all-wise ordination, All creatures kept their proper station : But politics have chang’d the case, And reason must to pow’r give place. 10 xxxiv. Beason ! a pretty term, indeed, To war ’gainst interest's potent creed 1 Nor truth nor reason e’er can mix With schemes of courtly politics. xxxv. But say, a Beast is not a Bird; Say, to maintain it is absurd ; ’Twill be of small avail, you know. If Lawyers choose to prove it so. XXXVI. The juncture, whence my story springs. Was such a motley state of things ; — Beasts, Reptiles, Birds of ev’ry feather, In strange confusion mix’d together. XXXVII. It chanc’d, a foul and ugly Toad , Born in some Scottish dank abode, To wedlock being much inclin’d, Link’d with a Viper , to his mind XXXVIII. In search of fortune off they set, Preferment doubting not to get : Unto the Chick they made their way. And bask’d beneath his fost’ring ray. 11 XXXIX. The Viper crawl’d his knees around, A kind reception quickly found; — In deadly coil, around his heart, She plied her foul, envenom’d, art. XL. His r ear at length she gain’d ; That wish’d-for object once obtain’d, Her horn, of deadly venom full, She’d suck’d from slander’s noxious pool, XLI. Into his ear, she soon instill’d, His mind with hideous monsters fill’d:— Forms shapeless, out of nature quite. Unfit to meet the public sight. XLII. She said, it chanc’d upon a time. She fix’d her vile abode of slime. Upon a Heath and near the spot Where C— — bewail’d her lot. XLIII. But then a picture false she drew! And plac’d his spotless spouse to view, Th%very wanton of the grove, With ev’ry bird who shar’d he love! B 12 XLIV. Nay, even Sea-gulls , she express’d, Had stain’d his faithless Partner’s nest; And so her artful tale she grac’d, He thought e’en Turtles were unchaste. XLV. These dismal tidings, it appears. So pain’d his modest r ears, That, scarcely breathing with the shock, He hasten’d to the parent Cock. XLVI. Thus to the M — —h he complain’d: ‘ Papa ! papa ! my honor’s stain’d ! The wicked wanton jade, my wife, Has lost that jewel of my life. XLVII. ‘ O think, dear pappy! what it is To meet disasters such as this! A frail wife’s loose inconstancy! — To horn a husband, too, like me /’ XLvm. ‘ Hey? what, what, what? wife gone astray?’ The sire replied ; ‘what, what? hey, hey?’ ‘ Yes,’ said the Chick, ‘ ’tis brought to light I have it here in black and white.’ 13 XLIX. He said, and shew’d th’ envenom’d scroll, That prov’d the black Inventor’s soul; — The old Cock read, and star’d like mad, Then cried, ‘ What, what? too bad! too bad f ’ L. 4 What could she wish for?’ cried the Son; ‘ What can excuse the thing she’s done? Had I not all her wants supplied ? A dozen waiting birds beside? LI. ‘ A nest as neat, snug, and retir’d. As any Dove could have desir’d ? A wicked, vile, unnat’ral, jade! Of her example must be made!’ LIT. 4 Stop, stop, stop! don’t go too far; You are too hot,’ said -, 4 you are; To prove so grievous an offence, We’ve not sufficient evidence.’ LIH. 4 Sufficient evidence!’ replied The Chick, 4 that want shall be supplied; I’ll ijprret corners, holes, and nooks, But evidence I’ll get, gadzooks!’ 14 LIV. So saying, hopp’d off in a trice, To get assistance and advice. Enough he’d find of that, no doubt; So thus the job he set about. LV. A Jackall was his bosom friend, A Lion fitted to attend ; But of so weak a bending nature, He’d serve the very meanest creature , LVI. If seated in the Lions place. To him he told his piteous case, And begg’d he’d use each kind endeavour From him this Partner to dissever. LVII. The Jackall said, what could be done He’d do, but could not act alone ; He wanted one, of shrewder sense, To fish out hidden evidence. LVIII. The Chick said, ‘ There you’ll find no loss ; jl’ve one that’s ready at a toss ; A prying Hawk , the keenest bird You ever knew, believe my word. 15 LIX. ‘ Each day he fills the justice-seat, And Sparrows , thieving in the street, Are brought to him to meet their due; He quods the vile plebeian crew. LX. ‘ ’Tis fit we crush that pilfering race, They bring our mystery in disgrace; So, waste not farther time in talk, Lord Jackall , send for Justice Hawk* LXI. He did so; — off the Justice flew, And ’twas determin’d what to do. The Jackall fix’d upon his part ; The Hawk resolv’d to shew his art. LXII. One night, — one cruel night, severe! Alas! Compassion’s softest tear Laments the hour, bedews the thought To cruel recollection brought! — LXIIL That lonely night, when all was calm ; While fond Affection shed a balm To give affliction kind relief, And heal a lovely mourner’s grief; 16 LXIV. When gentle, kind, attendant. Dotes, Who long had prov’d their faithful loves, The passing hour would fain beguile, And light of joy the transient smile ; LXV. That night, a sparrow-catching Hawk Around the nest was seen to stalk ; That Hawk, long bred to meaner quest. To bringing Thieves to light , at best; LXVI. That Jail-bird! that low bully hector, Of rascal finches the detector! Has dar’d his viler force to move Against the nest of r Dove ! LXVII. Her faithful, fair, attendant train, Who long had sooth’d their mistress’ pain, Her trusty watch-dogs, too, and all, Were hurried off and kept in thrall; LXVIII. And two Jack-daws among the band, Who had been plac’d (so deep ’twas plann’d) To hear and see whate’er they could, And mischief ’gainst their mistress brood. 17 LXIX. Yes; two Jack-daws, as black as Coh , To watch were set with sly control; So eager in their task, forsooth. At last they Bid good bye to truth. LXX. Off, helter skelter, in a drove, Great facts (they knew not what) to prove. They went, by Justice Hawk escorted, Who straight to C H resorted. LXXI. Meanwhile, with dire alarm oppress’d. The Dove sat trembling in her nest. Such violence! and what the cause? She knew not what, or where she was ! LXXII. By Jackalls and by Hawks affronted] By unseen persecution hunted! Depriv’d of ev’ry kind attendant! Some secret ruin seem’d impendent. LXXIII. Is there a heart, that is not stone, Can hear this tale without a groan ? What eye can read the Sufferer’s woe. And tears of sympathy not flow ? 18 LXXIV. It chanc’d, there was a learned Bear, f To whom was giv’n the task, to hear The charges by the Viper brought, And all the facts the Daws had caught; LXXV. For so the parent Cock decreed, That he should weigh -with special heed And ev’ry charge maturely con. Then make Report to him thereon. LXXVI. Full wide the Hawk and Jackall went, To gain fresh charges their intent, Or strengthen those^ which they had got;— Their mission, though, succeeded not! LXXVII. ’Twas said, and firmly sworn unto, She’d had an Egg of spurious hue , In that nest, where the Chick alone In justice should have planted one. LXXVIII. To prove this fact, they did apply Unto a skilful Owl close by ; Of reputation high and clear, He practis’d physic far and near. 19 LXXIX. ’Twas sworn, the fact that caus’d the blur, About the Egg, he did aver; But, whOn he heard them both unfold The tale that had been sworn and told, LXXX. It was a falsehood all, he said : — The noble Jackall shook his head , And in such sort, it would imply He doubted his veracity. LXXXI. The Owl exclaim’d, in louder strain, ‘ Sir, you may shake your head again! My word’s as good, sir, understand. As any Jackall’s in the land ! LXXXII. ‘ And I declare, in Truth’s fair name. And to my death will swear the same, What has been sworn is falsehood quite,— Falsehood rank and black as night !’ LXXXIII. Quite chop-fall’n at so great a balk, Off Jackall set and Justice Hawk: — They search’d about the Dove’s domain, Among the meaner servile train; C 20 LXXXiV. But found each story quite the same, And e’en went back just as they came. — O, noble Jackall! thus to tamper With menials, will your Lordship hamper. LXXXV For such as Justice Hawk ’t might do; But you, my Lord! I blush for you. — In spite of titles, rank, and place, When known, ’twill breed thee sore disgrace! LXXXVI. At length the bus’ness was begun, And (all preliminaries done) Judge Bear was seated in his pride: Three other Quadrupeds , beside, LXXXVII. Of high importance in the state Of Birds, around his Judgeship sate. The Viper came and told her tale, Which in black venom could not fail ; LXXXVIII. A tale, which prov’d the guilt innate That could such monstrous things create ; A tale so gross, so beastly base, Was never heard in any case; 21 LXXXIX , A tale, all decent feeling mocking, E'en for a Viper far too shocking . — Her consort Toad put in his oar, And said that wliat the Viper swore , XC. From what he saw, from what lie knew , Was all as any gospel true . — Next, the Jack-daws were call’d to swear, And all the facts they knew declare: XCI. They did their office mighty well. And trifles they contriv’d to swell To matters of importance great , That foul suspicions might create. XCII. Not quite so bold in perjury, As was the Toad and Viper she, They did not swear such facts were true, They did not swear such things they knew , XCIII. Confin’d to base surmise , no more. All that they durst, the hirelings swore; Yet all they swore they had perceived Was most completely negatived , 22 XCIV By those ivho best the truth could know , Whose testimony gave the blow Of death, to all the suborn d Crew , Daws, Toad , and perjur'd Viper , too. xcv The bus’ness done, the Bear and others Consulted, like grave learned Brothers; And, summing up the whole account, This was their judgement’s full amount: XCVI. They told the Cock, their r Sire, The Viper was a wicked liar ; The Toad, too, who to work had set her, They all agreed was little better. XCVII. As for the Dove, they did protest No spurious Egg had stain'd her nest ; But yet they something did infer; — Some levity of character, XCVIII. Some trifling stain, some lighter blot, Some other thing, they knew not what , (Thus with their sweets still mingling bitter,) Of which they could not quite acquit her. 23 XCIX. And this, because they did believe What the Jack-daws did nd perceive; They must believe Uieir oaths, because They were respectable Jack-daws ! C. The eldest Chick, quite dash’d to find His willing tools thus all behind, Ran to the parent Cock with speed, And begg’d no farther he’d proceed, CT. Nor deem the r Dove quite free From charge of infidelity; But grant a little kind delay, To hear what more he had to say. CII. Delay was giv’n, — ’twas but a trick Of this same wild ungen’rous Chick; Nought more he could alledge or prove’ Against his persecuted Dove. CIII. The parent Cock, with honor due, Brought forth the Fair to public view ; She mingled with the noblest train, On ev’ry hand deem’d free from stain. 24 civ. The Father of the r Chick, As fate decreed, at length fell sick; Not so, his old but tougher Mate, She still maintain’d her ease and state. CV This Hen, (unlike the Cock of old, Of whom the Fabulist hath told, Who, scratching on a dunghill, found A di’mond bright, that would ha^e crown’d CVI. The bliss of some more senseless Bird, Who shew to solid had preferr’d ; He spurn’d the glittering toy in scorn, And wished it were a barley-corn) ;■ — CVII . Not so, the Hen of whom I speak, For di’monds she would pine and peak: TJnnat’ral taste, unnat’ral care! Di’monds cannot with corn compare. CVIli. For corn will hungry bellies fill, s And Famine’s raging torments still; Di’monds but serve for empty shew, To mock the haggard front of woe. 25 cix. The Chick now holds a r court, Where Birds of gayest plume resort; But like the Daw, in fable known, Deck’d out in feathers , not their own. CX. Now then a glittering scene began, And pomp and shew compos’d the plan: Determin’d to be quite the cut , Our Chick assum’d the martial strut; CXI. Call’d forth his troops upon a heath, And gallop’d till quite out of breath, From one end of the line to t’other, And kicking up a glorious smother ! CXII. His gay admirers, too, he fed With toys of gilded gingerbread, And though unto his r court, Birds, Beasts, and Vipers, did resort, CXIII. He, with this medley not content, Must try another element, And Fishes came in shoals to greet The splendor of his gala’s treat. 26 cxiv. Determin’d Nature to surpass , And gain approval from his glass, To skilful artists he applied, And bade them speedily provide cxv An artificial comb , that should Eclipse those of the common brood ; — ’Twas done, and he, elate and proud, The Prince of Coxcombs was allow’d! CXVI. True, now and then, an ugly flaw Would cast a shade o’er this eclat, And seem quite on the head to knock His prowess, as a fighting Cock. CXVII. For once, when dancing at a jUe , Where rank and fashion join’d the treat, He met a very awkward sprain, And kept his bed for weeks with pain ! CXVIII. Yet some assert no sprain it was, And to his ill assign a cause, Unworthy of the r* Chick ; — They do affirm it was a kick ! 27 CXIX. But e’en from Yarmouth unto Wales, All mouths are busy with such tales ; So even let Hie matter rest With those who know the truth on’t best. CXX. P s may have>fboleries That will proYokesa merry phiz To laugh ; but laughing does no harm. And gives a state hat small alarm- GXXI. Not so when they on right turn tail; When they in higher duties fail ; When wayward will supplants the law, And Vice would; Virtue's self o’er awe. CXXII. I pass, that Minds of bad report Now ^well’d the r Chicken’s court ; I speak not of the homed Beasts , That fill’d his house and shar’d his feasts. CXXJII. I pass by that old stmking Goat, Whom he had raised to highest note ; — I cite alone, (our case to prove,) The r— persecuted Dove ! D 28 cxxiv. Depriv’d of her illustrious friend, She found protection at an end; And Insult rose, with sternest brow. To frown upon her victim now. CXXV. Protector it is true she had ; One, who a sacred vow had made, Through all the checquer’d scenes of life. Its dangers, calumny, and strife, CXXVI. To guard her free from every ill. And be her kind supporter still—' But did he act this faithful part ? ’Tis answer’d by an aching heart, CXXV1I. A shrug of sorrow, shake of head. Where much is meant though nothing said! But to the point ; the time was come, Big with the Dove’s unfolding doom. CXXVIII. This simple fable hath detail’d, How each attack of malice fail’d, While the old Cock his sway maintain’d, Within whose bosom Conscience reign’d. 29 cxxix. But now was aim’d the final blow, Her happiness to overthrow ! Now came the bitter poison’d dart, To wound and rankle in her heart ! CXXX. The r— Doveling she had rear’d, Whose innocence her woes had cheer’d, \ With pointed, keen, heart-galling slight, That Doveling was denied her sight. CXXXI. Some say the elder Hen, past doubt. Contriv’d to bring this plot about ; If so it were, if such the fact, Confound the vile unnat’ral act ! CXXXII, Who would believe that any she Would counsel such an injury Accurs’d, at fond Affection’s shrine? Unfeeling, harsh, unfeminine ! CXXXI II. Sometimes the very meekest creature Will turn to one of fiercer nature, When rous’d, by cruel hand infernal, To sense of injury maternal. so CXXXIV. The Cow, new-risen from the lair, Whose breath perfumes the morning air. Behold with gentle patience stand, And yield her to the milk-maid’s hand ! cxxxv Freely she gives the fragrant store, To those who, when she can no more, Will whet theknife, will shed her blood. And seize upon her flesh for food, cxxxvi. But let them seize her darling young. To anger, to revenge, she’s strung ; And, of maternal feeling full, She’s fiercer than the foaming bull. CXXXV1I. So with our Dove ; long time had slept The secret, most profoundly kept, (With many a lock and many a seal) That time was destin’d to reveal. CXXXV III. With innate mbdesty and pride, (Her honor diily satisfied,) She sought not to proclaim her wrong, Nor give her injuries a tongue. ai CXXXIX. But now by secret foes enthrall’d. By every tie of duty call’d T’assert a mother’s just pretence And vindicate her innocence, CXL. Which this last stroke, so cool, so sly, Would injure most insidiously; She had been culpable and weak, Did she not now most loudly speak. CXLI. A letter first, with due respect, She sent to him^ who should protect And not expose her thus to scorn. After what she had finhly borne. CXL1I. For answer (what could it betoken ?) Her letter came with seal unbroken Again she sent it, and once more It came back to her as before! CXLUI. She tried again, she tried in vain, Nor satisfaction could obtain; — • At length the Chicken did confess, Her wrongs he meant not to redress. 32 CXLIV. It happen’d,, at this moment pat, The Birds in full assembly sat; Deputed by each tribe and cast To keep the laws together fast. CXLV. ’Tis true, some Beasts had there intruded, Who should by right have been excluded ; But inconsistency oft’ springs From this said motley state of things. CXLVI. A grave and wejl-beseeming Owl This wise assembly did control ; To him a letter she indited. Forthwith claiming to be righted ! CXLVII. This letter by the Owl was read, And soon abroad like light’ning spread; It claim’d (what sure was but her due,) To let her crime be brought to view ; CXLVIII. Or, if no crime could be impleaded, Let her as innocent be treated.— A game Cock, British bred and sound. Within th’ assembly walls was found, . 33 CXLIX. Long tried for courage and for worth, He from a Brewhouse claim’d his birth ; And rose and said, within that house The Dove’s true cause he would espouse. CL. Another of the fighting race,' Too, made a motion on the case ; But, what was strhnge, our brewhouse Cock, Staunch to his purpose as a rock; CLI. Made out a charge against the Bear, To shew his conduct not quite fair ; Not having render’d evidence According to its strictest sense. CLII. This Bear, of late, you’ll understand, Had much of business on his hand, And of no very pleasant nature. That kept him ever in hot water. CLIll. A saucy, pert, and scribbling, Bee, Had stung the Bear so much, that he Swore to demolish every hive, And let no scribbling Bee survive. 34 CLIV On vengeance bent and full of ire, He set out with a Vulture dire, A Bird repulsive, fierce, and strong. With dreadful talons sharp and long. CLV. Hives they upset, one after t’other, And seiz’d on many a stinging brother; But soon it gave a wide alarm, And rais’d about their ears a swarm, CLVI. That all the Bears within the land Would he unable; to withstand — The Vulture , flying soon away, Left Bruin to abide the fray. CLVII. Poor wretch! his case was very sad, Their stings soon drove him roaring mad; And, while yet smarting from tbe shock* To be attack’d by our game Cock ! CLVIII. No sooner had it reach’d his ear, Than he began to foam and swear; He stamp’d and rav’d as few could tell* Swore, ‘ 'turns a lie as false as hell P 55 CLIX. Yet did our game Cock nothing flinch, Nor would he bate a single inch ; But made his case out strong and fair, Spite of the growling of the Bear. CLX. Th’ assembly, though a motley train, Did Birds of various class contain ; There King-fishers , in crowds you’ll see, Goldfinches of the T y ! CLXI. And Ostriches of rare digestion, Whose swallow none can call in question^ The horned Owl there gained a seat. And saintly Rook , so smooth and neat ; CLX II. The humming Bird and the Macaw , And chattering Magpies of the law; Yet Eagles too there might be found, Who scorn’d each earthly bar or mound, CLXIII. That would restrain their daring flight. Beyond the ken of earthly sight; And heavenward steer their ardent course, Drink truth from its celestial source, E 36 CLXIV. Expound the principles of law. And dark Corruption's fiend o’er awe ; Such bosoms could not fail to move The meek remonstrance of the Dove. CLXV. Appeal was made ; accord was one ; Who rose t’asperse our victim? — none ! Without a single non-content, She was pronounced INNOCENT! CLXVI. The Viper once more stigmatis’d, For all die guilt she had devis’d ; A perjur’d wretch ! ‘ fit garbage’ she, To glut ‘ the hell-hound, Infamy.’ CLXVII. v The bus’ness so determined, A gen’ral satisfaction spread ; It flew like wild-fire through the land, And ev’ry heart and ev’ry hand CLXVIH. Was animated in defence Of injur’d r- Innocence l While tides of proud congratulation Flow’d in from all parts of the nation. sr CLXIX. The City-Birds first led the way. In splendid pomp and grand array ; Their neighbours urg’d the bus’ness gaily, And carrier Pigeons came in daily CLXX. From country parts and country meetings, With loyal sentiments and greetings ; One feeling only did control Each honest, worthy, B h soul. CLXXI. For Vipers , they throughout the nation The objects were of execration; Each honest Beast and Bird foreswore ’em. And even hung them in terroremj CLXXIL Thus ended the conspiracy! Thus ever perisn Infamy ! Thi s Virtue ever find defence! THUS EVER TRIUMPH INNOCENCE ! THE END. Maurice, Printer, Howford-buildings, Fenchurch-street. Now Publishing in Sixpenny Numbers , printed in Octavo , on Superfine Paper. MEMOIRS OF Her Royal Highness CAROLINE AMELIA ELIZABETH Princess of Wales , INCLUDING IMPORTANT PARTICULARS CONCERNING Zi)C iPuttl (Consptracp against Her Honour and her Life; With Observations on the false Charges brought against her by Sir John and Lady Douglas, and others ; and a variety of Letters and Documents, connected with this interesting Subject. None of which are contained in “ The Book:” also the Addresses of Congratulation, from all Parts of the Country, on the establishment of her Innocence, notwith- standing the Machinations of suborned Traducers, 8tc. &c. EMBELLISHED WITH SUPERB ENGRAVINGS. LONDON : Published by John fairburn, 2, broadway, ludgate hill, FACING THE OLD BAILEY. THE R L RUNAWAY; OR, C tte and Coachee ! / % #oem. BY PETER PINDAR, Esq. Author of the R t's Fleet, &c. &c. «' O ! save roe, coachman ! ” did she say, * Defend me from pursuers, pray ! ” " Defend you? that I will,” cried Jarvis, “ My very life is at your sarvice. M God bless the King ! his pride was you, “ And I’m his loyal subject true ; •' So, noble lady, don’t alarm ye, *' For nobody, I swear, shall harm ye. " Let who attempts it well beware, •' For if, to take you from my care, " The D 'i'i of Y himself should come, " I’d beat liis head just like a drum.” THIRD EDITION. LonDon : . Published by JOHN FAIR BURN, 2, Broadway, Ludgate-HilU Price Eighteen-pence. March ANT, Printer, Ingram-Court, Fenchurch-Street THE R L RUNAWAY ! tyc. fyc* I. WhaT strange propensities we find Inhabit oft a R — — 1 mind ; — Great F s have such whims, I swear, As make us common mortals stare. 2 * ’Tis fit they should have recreation Becoming their exalted station ; But, surely, without any treason, We may assert they should have reason ; — 3 . Scorn upon her laws to trample, Nor delight in bad example; Deeming the delight inhuman, Of hunting down a harmless woman . B 4 4 . Give them wine and horses plenty ; Give them ev’ry costly dainty ; Pomp enough and gorgeous state,. The loftiest appetite to sate. 5 . If even apt sometimes to rove And revel in illicit love, Too loudly I would not condemn, What may be venial in them — 6 . With such temptations in their way, To tread the path of pleasure gay ; And crop, if they have will and power, Where’er they can a fav’rite flowery 7 . But surely we may well complain. To find a P e who would restrain, A wife deserted and forlorn, From rank to which she’s fairly born; 8 . Or hold in tightest subjugation, A youthful female’s inclination ; When he himself from youth was prone. So freely to indulge his own. 5 9 . Can it be crime, (I trust it is not) Duty, filial/ when we miss not? Or that ’tis lawful (who’ll disprove) To cherish a fond parent’s love ? 10 . Or if the father haply choose A spouse that daughter should refuse, There are no reasonable men sure, Who would her act severely censure ; 11 . For every party’s inclination, (Before they’re join’d in wedded station,) It surely wisest to consult is ; Or sad, too often, the result is, 12 . But you may say a P ’s brain Is* not like that of other men ; And, that the heir of proud dominion Should laugh at general opinion. 13 . If such the case be I don’t know ; Yet well I wot (suppose it so) That much of inconsistency, The certain consequence will be: 6 14 . For instance, we might find a P. - > ■ . ss ? Who at inquiry never winces ; Though oft accus’d of charges vile, (Though ev’ry effort to defile, 15 . A character that’s good and fair, The force of power and art prepare, To fix the odious accusation;) Acquitted by a virtuous nation ; 16 . Yet treated as though guilty still. Because an individual will, * V For reasons , has ordain’d it so, Which no one but himself must know. 17 . You’ll find and mark it with a groan. The lovely heiress of a T e, By dire necessity, prefers The vehicle which milliners, 18 . Which ladies of an humble station. Or ladies of no reputation, On rainy days are forced to eall, Or have no vehicle at all. 7 19 . You’ll find her urg’d by wounded feeling, Out of doors, like culprit, stealing — Yes, she for whom in ’battled field, A million heroes’ swords may wield ; 20 . Whom judges and archbishops too, May shew profound allegiance due ; And peers obedience humbly tender, — A Jarvey choose for her defender ! 21 . A P ^s in a hackney coach ! ’Tis to the land a foul reproach. That pays for carriages in plenty, More fitting far a form so dainty. 22 . Besides it doth appear a shame, A P ss should protection claim From coachmen, (sure our senses wander !) Against our ar — y’s great commander. 23 . And that the darling hero who Has prov’d in love and war so true, A private house should e’er invade, To capture a poor trembling maid ! 8 24 . For such a man so high a grace, Appeareth greatly out of place, Would not our Chan r L — E— — n, As hackney coachman have as well done, 25 . To guard the Interesting Fair, Ordain’d Great B n’s C n to wear, And hold the reins of government? But she perhaps thought different. 26 . Why not for L — Chief J e send, Her sacred person to defend ? Was he not wiser, fitter, better, When dreaded danger had beset her, 27 . To fill her champion coachee’s place ? Hid truth not stare them in the face ; The world would say (such tale to tell,) TVas all a lie — as false as hell t 28 . Such inconsistency of course, Must have some very curious source; How we feel to repeat were vain, But how she felt is pretty plain. 9 29 . Such e’er will be the consequence, When folks will spurn at common sense. And are determin’d to pursue, Some course fantastical and new, 30 . Despising good old fashion’d notions, As quite beneath their high promotions, When nat’ral feeling don’t prevail ; — But, now let me begin my tale. 31 . Aurora usher’d in the day, Of great events, which, sooth to say, Ne’er was and ne’er may equall’d be, In the records of royalty. 32 . A day that rumour (fond of prating) Was more than commonly elate in — She rose betimes, for well she knew That dav she had much work to do. 33 . Now ruddy sol, all beaming bright, Had gain'd his full meridian height, And the broad ravs he downward shed, Had found great CvEsar still in bed . 10 34 . Uneasy, though half sunk in down, — - Sleep on her vot’ry seem’d to frown, And Morpheus in truth did seem To fright him with some ugly dream. 35 . The pozvr of wine had ceas’d to reign, And spread its vapour o’er his brain ; While visions of the fearful kind Appear’d to fill his harass’d mind. 36 . Now dreams of morn they do aver Are of a truer character Than mark the night’s distorted train, When bold illusion holds her feign, 37 . Restless* and tossing to and fro. He seem’d oppress’d with secret woe And now and then a heavy groan His bosom’s anguish loud would own. 33 . Transported to some eastern clime A magic palace rose sublime, Where he (as pictured in the dream) Appear’d to reign the Lord supreme. 'A* 11 39 . Upon a crimson throne he sate, And all around was gorgeous state, Rich tapestry and cloth of gold, Most gay and goodly to behold ; 40 . And flow’ring shrubs of every hue, By art transplanted, thither grew, Which did on every side dispense A flattering odour to the sense ; 41 . The costliest banquets too were there : Large tables spread with viands rare, Each dainty, choice, that could invite The most luxurious appetite ! 42 . In golden vases richest wine, With sparkling lustre there did shine, And fruit in massive golden dishes, And streams of gold and silver fishes ; 43 . Huge Genii there did scowling low’r, And own his monstrous princely pow’r ; Grave was their look, their stature big — They were array’d in gown and wig. c n 44 . Most unrelenting they of face, And arm’d with many a pond’rous mace f Prepar’d to knock the culprit down Who might incur his princely frown. 45 . Three graces round his throne were seen. But of a most ungraceful mien ; Not such as the celestial Hourii Have been depicted unto our eye ; 46 For they were squab, and fat, and old. And most untempting to behold ; But, as it seem’d, each antient grace By turns enjoy’d his fond embrace. 47 . On his right hand a wrinkled Q n On golden throne did pomp maintain, Her nose was curl’d in scornful pride And much with snuff it was bedied. 48 . Her robe with diamonds was bedight, That overcame the dazzled sight, And cast around her such a gleam. The Q n of Diamonds she did seem. 13 49. Alas ! how different was the scene. That opposite the diamond q , This stately palace could afford. Upon the left of its gay lord ! 50. A captive Princess on a tomb Reclin’d, opprest with pensive gloom, And, bound by an unfeeling chain. She often look’d and sigh’d in vain, 5L Towards a num’rous brilliant throng. In gay parade that mov’d along. To where the Q of Diamonds sate In solemn majesty and state] — 52. She looked imploring to her lord, Who answer’d not a single word ; But with averted glances he Still hugg’d by turns his graces three; 53. ’Till mov’d by this disdain she broke Her silence and thus firmly spoke : — “ My lord, why am I treated so ? “ Why am I captive made, I’d know ? 14 54 . “ Within this tomb on which I weep, “ The embers of affection sleep ; “ I’st not enough that treasure’s gone, “ Must farther cruelty be shone? 55 “ How this restraint have I deserv’d? “ Have I from my allegiance swerv’d? “ If any make such accusation, “ I court most keen investigation. 56 . “ If guilty found (when that’s completed,) “ Let me as guilty then be treated ; “ But, if it proves me innocent, “ Must I endure guilt’s punishment ? 57 . “ Why not thou Q of Riches there, “ Surrounded with thy di’monds glare, “ Let me too mix in yonder train, “ And share the joys of Pleasure’s reign ? 58 . “ Say, why am I of all the rest “ Excluded, a forbidden guest ? “ Their rank inferior is to mine — “ A Princess of the R- Line !” 15 59 . At this the Q n of Wealth arose, First well with powder plied her nose, And in a haughty squeaking strain, Said, “ Princess vainly you complain: 60 . “ Yon gracious Lord, whom all revere, “ Has order’d that you come not here — “ In private or at public meeting, “ He ne’er will give you friendly greeting,” — 61 . “ But why” “ Nay, do not ask the reason, “ This insolence is down-right treason ; — “He wills it so and that’s enough — ” Then took another pinch of snuff : — 62 . “ Ye guardian genii of the land, “ Upholders of our pow’r, who stand, “ Is this not law which I have said ?” Assenting, each one bow’d his head. 63 . The Princess found remonstrance vain — She sighing view’d her captive chain, Aud, like the lily in the storm, Despairing, droop’d her spotless form. 16 64 . A peal of thunder shook the ground ! The genii start and stand astound ! And (panic-stricken every face,) Each trembling drops his leaden mace. 65 . When, lo ! appears a radiant sprite, Robed in setherial lustre bright ; And, with an aspect of command, She wav’d aloft her silver wand. 66 . The potent wand, by magic stroke, The Princess’ chain of bondage broke ; Who now uprising from the tomb, No more oppress’d with Sorrow’s gloom ; 67 . While smiles and splendour deck her brow, The brilliant throng before her bow : Yes, those who erst, with heedless eve, Neglectingly had pass’d her by, 68 . Now pay her rank allegiance due — Her character of fairest hue. In adulating terms to praise. They one and all their voices raise. 17 69 . Again, another peal of thunder “ Breaks the bands of sleep asunder P Great Caesar started and awoke, Jump’d out of bed and, stumbling, broke 70 . A chamber vessel I’ll not name, Of useful though of humble fame ! Headlong he fell, and, falling, swore, While briny streams bedew’d the floor ! 71 . Rous’d by the noise, the menial pack, With Gesar’s gallant fav’rite Mac, Rush in half-dress’d, — a motley band ! One with his breeches in his hand ; — 72 . This with a shoe, and that a stocking, All apprehending something shocking! Mac, struck with horror when he found Great Caesar sprawling on the ground, 73 . Said, “ Prithee speak most noble master, ** I trust you’ve met no fresh disaster?” And, as he mark’d his bleeding foot, The broken urinal had cut. 74 . Cried, “ Heav’ns ! my Lord, what may this mean? “ That foot ! oh let me lick it clean , — “ Much damage say has it sustain’d ? “ Your H — gh— s is your ancle sprain d ?” 75 . CiESAn replied, “ I’ve had a fall, “ But that is nothing, Mac, at all: “ The wound you see but slight you’ll find* “ The wound I feel is in the mind/’ 76 : Then to the affrighted servants said, Whose hair erect stood on each head, “ Begone, my breakfast quick prepare, — • “ Why, zounds S ’tis^oMr o'clock I swear. 77 . A vision Mac I’ve had to night* “ That fills my bosom with affright; “ I see with what fate threatens me, “ But I will conquer destiny ! 78 . “ That disobedient girl ! — Well, Mac, “ We'il not lose time in idle clack, “ Go leil my valet to repair “ To me, and bring my head of hair t 19 79 * “ And whiskers too— -my stays to lace ; — “ Dress, rouge me, and make up my face ; — “ I’ve done strange things, — this, stranger still “ Will shew none dare oppose my will. 80 . “ I’ll make the little baggage quake ! “ Some brandy ! Bless me how I shake ! ” — ’Tis done ! — equipp’d from top to toe^ Once more behold the R — >-l beau ! 81 . What graceful curls adorn his brow! How fine his shape, — genteel his bow ; Gay, handsome, free, and debonair l An object form’d to please the fair ! 82 . But, now, he went on no love mission, It was a serious expedition ; A subject not to make him merry— The prelate grave of S y, 83 . (Right reverend and good was he, A man of holy piety.) He with him took ; for one so pure Success was likely to ensure : n 20 84 . With such a champion to espouse His cause, he went to W ■■ - k H e And thus (while anger fir’d his breast) Its fair inhabitant address’d : 85 . “ So, miss ! ’tis true what I have heard l “ A pretty story, on my word ; “ Though /deny her all protection, “ You love your mother with affection. 86 “ Such disobedience ne’er was known; “ But penance shall the fault atone! “ You love her (little forward elf) “ As much, aye, as you love myself. 87 . “ In this house you no longer tarry ; “ Dismiss your servants ! you I’ll carry “ Off to W— r; there to dwell, “ Remote from those you love so well. 88 . “ No cards they at your door shall leave ; “ No visits you from them receive ; “ Nor pen, nor ink, nor paper, may Your sentiments to them convey. u 21 89 . “ And four duennas in your train, “ Your lofty spirit shall restrain ; “ But should you dare act Little Pickle , “ Faith ! miss, your toby they shall tickle.” 90 . What heart that is not form’d of steel ; What manly bosom but must feel, This lovely female’s hapless case— «- In prime of youth and beauty’s grace, 91 . In nature’s soft and vernal hour, At sweet eighteen, when ev ? ry power, With energy resistless fraught, Expands the mind to bloom of thought ; 92 . When female feeling spurns controul, And claims the independent soul, Debarr’d from that, which well she might Consider as her perfect right. 93 . Forbade in Eng — d to be free ; The boasted land of liberty — She, freedom’s own adopted child, It was enough to drive her wild. 52 94 . Forgive, immortal pow’rs of truth, If, thus alarm’d, defenceless, youth, E’en slightly should offend'a rule. Prescribed in thy celestial school ! 95 . Short absence, did the maid require, For her departure to attire ; — ’Twas granted her, and she withdrew. She came not back — suspicion grew — 96 . To which delay gave surer ground; At last she was not to be found ; — f* - They search’d the mansion round about In vain, they could not find her out. 97 . Then Cesar said, “ No means I’ll spare, s ‘ To bring forth this reluctant fair ; “ Up stairs or down, — no spot shall save her, “ If on these premises, I’ll have her. 98 . “ A sudden thought comes in my head-rr “ What, if she’s to the coal-vault fled ? “ I’ll try each* nook to which she can turn : *' Here B #p; go and fetch a lantern !” 23 99 . Tho’ grave I fain would be the while, In very truth I needs must smile ! A R - ■ t in a coal-hole seen, Exceeds all power , of face I ween ; 100 . But reverend B p down below, The lantern holding, light to shew, In cellar-vault, just like Guy Vaux* By Jove it all description mocks 1 101 . The search was vain, and well it might, The R 1 Maid had taken flight; — Her sinking Spirits having rallied, At a postern door she sallied. 102 . In the wide streets, a fugitive, Went she, who destin’d was to give The nation law and proudly reign The Q of B n’s wide domain 1 103 . A hackney coach was near at hand — She instant hasten’d to the stand — Threw wide the door, the step pull’d down— And she who was to wear a crown Q4i 104 . Right glad to find a refuge there. The vehicle directed where The maid might sooth her wild alarms, Within a tender mother’s arms. 105 . Soon, as with fear, she turn’d about. She saw behind a vulgar lout, Ascend (as such are wont to do,) But she not of the custom knew, 106 . And apprehended ’twas a spy, To trace out whither she should fly— “ O ! save me, coachman ! ” did she say. “ Defend me from pursuers pray ! 107 . “ Fin P — C tte,” added she, “ Who haply B n’s Q— may be!” “ Defend you,” that I will cried Jarvis, “ My very life is at your sarvice / 108 . “ God bless the K. g ! his pride was you , “ And I’m his loyal subject true ; “ So, noble lady, don’t alarm ye, “ For nobody, I swear, shall harm ye. £5 109 . “ Let who attempts it well beware ; “ For, if, to take you from my care, “ The D of Y- himself should come, “ I’d beat his head, just like a drum !” 110 . Now sorrow saddens Peter’s strain, No more he sings in merry vein ; — It little boots him now to tell What all the nation know so well : 111 . How, when she reach’d the friendly dome, She found her parent lov’d from home; And how to her she sent express, — Or paint the mother’s sore distress ; 112 : How agitated, off she flew, To seek each manly champion true, Who often had, in peril’s hour, Defended her from craft and power ; 113 . What was her bosom’s secret pain, When by mischance her search was vain ; And, how returning home, she prest Her child with anguish to her breast-*- 114. Bedew’d her cheek with holy tears, And sooth’d her grief and calm’d her fears, While love in either bosom burn’d, And throb for throb each heart return’d ; 115, How, Pun k’s hero, sooth to say. The lovely trembler bore away; What anguish mark’d the parting hour, I’d paint it ; but I want the power. J 16. “ How?” says some wag, “ What means this Pete* “ Why sinks thy muse in doleful metre ? “ What, man! thou’rt surely going to snivel!” — I answer to such wag uncivil, 117. Curs’d be the wretch, where’er he be. Who feels not Nature’s sympathy ; Whose stoic bosom can remain, Unmov’d at lovely woman’s pain ; 118. Who feels no pang of kindred wOe, When tears of grief parental flow ; Nor weeps a daughter’s fond alarms, Torn from an anxious mother’s arms 27 119 . In W -r’s deep embow’ring shade, By Twick’nam’s bard immortal made, The R — — 1 fair now dwells recluse — O Pope ! would that thy loftier muse 120 , Were living now, then would thy lay A soft elegiac tribute pay, To W -r’s forest, w hose domain. The loveliest treasure doth contain ; — 121 . A nation’s hope ! a nation’s pride ! A rose, to thorny grief allied, That should in sunny scenes expand. And spread its fragrance through the land ! THE END. Itfar yhant, Printer# Ingram-Con rt, Fenchorch Street, London. Just published, price U. 6d. R T’S FLEET, OR JOHN BULL A-T THE SERPENTINE. #### 3 Poem, BY PETER PINDAR, Esq. Published by J. Fairburn, 2, Broadway, Ludgate-Hill. THE P E’s JUBILEE; OR 12- 1 Revels !! % i&oem. BY PETER PINDAR, Esq, Author of the R- ■— f s Fleet, R 1 Runaway, R — — ft Fair, £c. — 1 revelry ; 11 . With good tobacco, gin, and beer, To spend the day in jovial cheer, And (votaries of Peace I vow !) To end it with a friendly row! 12 . That day our mighty R » ■ 4 ’s will Bade Pleasure reign and Work stand still ; That day, when (bus’ness at a stop,) Each master mourn’d his vacant shop ; 0 13 . While journeymen, with spirits high. Made every hard-earned shilling fly ; Nor thought of children or of spouse. Sore pinch’d by this their gay carouse : 6 14 . Till Saturday , with heavy gloom, Sent each reluctant to his home, To bear the weight of many a curse, On idle sport and empty purse, 15 . As if, from great example, he Thought it became the Jubilee, To celebrate the end of wars, With quarrels and domestic jars ; 16 . That day, intended all so glad John Bull for joy should run stark mad ; Nor like his betters, scarcely sober, Be found from August till October; 17 - That day, when R— -1 Parks in use Erewhile for field-days and reviews, Where oft our good K — g G e the Third, His milk-white charger proudly spurred, 18 . And prancing o’er the verdant plain, Beheld elate the martial train Manoeuvre, exercise, march, wheel, And charge, with military zeal ; 7 19 . Where erst on George’s natal day. Drawn forth in soldier’s proud array. From shop and shop-board, sons of fame, With loyal ardour panting came, 20 . To see their sov’reign, and to prove That not to those of rank above Are bright accomplishments confin’d,— That men who counters serve behind 21 . Could serve their country , too, with pride That haply grocer's aprons hide, As manly parts and courage good. As Prince can boast of R— 1 Blood ; 22 . And that a draper , though he stand In shop all day, with yard in hand. May be as brave at soldier’s work E’en as our gallant D — » ■ of Y — k ; 23 . Yes, this proud field was open’d free, For low Plebeian revelry. For all the noisy, motley crew Of Smithfteld's Saint-BARTHOLOMEW ; .* 8 24 . To sausage-sellers, sleight of hand-men. Drovers, donkey, dray, and sand men ; To reeling coblers, vulgar mimes, And beasts , too, from remoter climes ; 25 . To ups-and-downs— ingenious things. Call’d, most prophetically ,— swings ; To dancing, drinking, swearing, rambling. Picking-pockets— E. O, gambling. 26 . That morn young misses from their bed, Sprang lightly— popp’d out each fair head ; And view’d with many a tearful eye, The failing show’r— the low’ring sky; 27 . “ O, la, papa ! pray, only view ! “ It rains !. oh dear, what shall we do !” “ Rains ?” cries old Treacle “ had I thought “ Of that before I tickets bought, 28 . “ A bargain with the man I’d made “ About the weather ’lore I paid ; “ But, zounds ! hie raree-show J see “ Is like his / 9 29 . “ Confound it ! why are men such ninnies, “ To throw away so their half guineas; “ But, this is owing to your mother, “ Still mad for some new whim or other; — 30 . “No moderate pleasure can content her, “ Think you on the damp grassl’ll venture? “ What, p&y to be laid up in pain “ With my rheumatic gout again?” 31 . “ But tents there are, the bills explain, “ To keep you dry, if it should rain.” — “ Yes, tents there are, I know they tell us, “ I’ve seen them, — they’re but umbrellas ” — 32 . “ But the Pagoda, Pa, you know, “ And Bridge, will be a pretty show ; “ Then a Regatta there will be”* — “ Confound their foreign names,” cries he, 33 . “ To fleece us that another knack is, “ With their Rig-gatto's and JSfa umackeys, — “ A r owing -match, where is the he “ Would in a horse-trough go to see: 10 34 . “ If skips please your great lords and dames, “ Are there not plenty in the Thames ? “ As for that tail outlandish toy , “ Though it may please a girl or boy, 35 . “ What man to see it ought to pay, ** When he for nothing every day “ May see what more should men content, “ On Fish-Street- Hill— the Monument V 36 . “ They talk of that huge Roundabout” — “ Oh, dear Papa ! The Sun’s come out 1 “ The finest day I ever saw l “ Come, won’t you go and dress, Papa ? 37 “ Mamma’ll excuse on no pretence, “ She says what matters the expense ? — “ We sha’nt be push’d about, you know, “ Among the vulgar and the low. 38 . In comes mamma- — denial’s vain, “ The like may ne’er be seen again. The thing is settled, they agree, And set off for the Jubilee. 11 39 The day’s begun — the crowd look gay, Warm expectation doth display Each smiling look, — they saunter, chat, And pause, to gaze on this or that ; 40 . But though I’ve heard of* hapless spark, Forced to perambulate the park (From sore misfortune, ill at ease,) And for a dinner count the trees ; 41 . Yet hundreds, who had come to see This memorable Jubilee, Were forced to own — what truth to tell is, That sights will not fill hungry bellies. 42 . Their appetites now finds relief, In sausage, ham, or fowl, or beef; And ladies are — though ungenteelly, Found swigging bottled porter freely. 43 . But ev’ry eye’s directed soon To that proud object — the balloon , And, as its swelling sides they view, Inquiry runs through all the crew ; c 12 44 . To know with what sublime intention. To day is fix’d this grand ascension ? To please John Bull, as some agree. Or but to please her M y ? 45 . To shew how easy ’tis to rise Above the low, and tempt the skies ; By mere inflated airy puffing. Devoid of more substantial stuffing. 46 . “ No, you are wrong,” says one, “ I swear, “ Why, don’t you see Vans — t — t there, “ Is gazing on, intent to find, “ Some novel scheme to raise the wind 47 - “ That’s not it,” says a wag hard bye, “ To day young Sadler mounts the sky, “ Upon a different expedition ; “ For, lest the firework Exhibition, 48 . “ Our R 1 meaps to give to night, “ Should lose effect from too much light ; “ He goes to put, from his balloon, u A large wet blanket o'er the moon . 13 4g. The car is fix'd— behold it rise ! With gaping months and wond’ring eyes The cockneys cry out, as they stare, “ How funny he must feel up there !” 50 . “ What, gone alone ! Did they not say “ A lady was to mount to day?” fi ’Twas an impracticable thing ; “ This time she cannot take her swing. 51 . “ Pray, what's the reason, do you know, “ That Mrs. J does not go?” “ Why, Sadler’s net is, I am told, “ Not strong enough loose Jish to hold.” . 52 . Through fields of aether see him rove ; The House of Buckingham above, Which very little now is seen, Although the Pal — e of a Queen. 53 . And Carlton- Mansion, I declare, Looks Strangely dwindled from the air: This seat of pomp and Pr y love, A pig-stye seems to him above. 14 54 , Behold the House of Commons too, But as a mouse- trap to the view ! He sees, though from his lofty bearings. The candle-ends and the cheese-parings. 55 . The brilliant car the sun-beams deck, At length ’tis dwindled to a speck ; And now the whole is seen no more ; One wonder of the day is o’er ! 56 . Hark ! pealing cannon rend the air ! What crowds unto Hy de-Park repair ; Lament your fate, like cocks and hens. Confined in your half -guinea pens. 57 . Ye wealthier souls forbid to go And view the noblest of the show, (Expos’d to vulgar souls more free) The glorious battle on the sea ! 58 . Another peal now rends the sky ! “ Confound the tickets !” is the cry, “ Zounds !” says a Cit, “ and did I pay “ To keep me from the sights away, 15 sa tf While those without a stiver run, “ Indulging freely in the fun ? “ Just like a sheep in fold to cram me, “ Tis too bad ! if I bear it, d — me !” 60 . Another broadside shakes the ground. And swift succeeding cannon sound ! “ Zounds ! ’tis enough to drive one mad, “ Confine us here ! it is too bad P 61 . ** Pray, sir, be calm !” — “ Calm ! don’t tell me, “ I tell you the French fleet’s at sea ; “ I’ll not stay here, my country calls — “ Old England and her Wooden Walls,” 62 . O, what a goodly sight to see, Well worthy Britain’s Jubilee ! In dread array each hostile fleet, Now, ship to ship, together meet. 63 . Well worthy ’twere the pen of fame, Each adverse vessel here to name, Who, side by side, in bloody fray, Fought for the glory of the day. 16 64 . The Regent and the Caroline , The headmost ships of either line ; The Orange next, a Dutchman who Dared to attack a vessel true 65 . Of British mould, and dear to fame, The Royal Charlotte is her name; The Eldon and the Sussex both. For warm engagement nothing loth ; — - 66 . The Castlereagh and Bedford bold, (By Captain Whitbread this controll’d,) Had met together side by side, And each, his rival fierce defied. 67 - The Burdett and the Vansittart, Prepared to join in action smart ; And, also, ’midst the battled range, The Westminster and Stock-Exchange ; 68 . The Cochrane gave, in brave reliance, The Ellenborough bold defiance, Whose cannon’s deep and awful knell Was heard to thunder loud a & 17 69 . The signal first the Eldon gave — Th’attack commenced — th’affrighted wave Roll’d back upon the verdant shore, That echoed with the cannon’s roar. 70 . The Regent now with fierce design, Bore down upon the Caroline, Who to resist the foe unable, The Royal Charlotte slipp'd her cable. 71 . But first her prowess to display, She sunk the Orange on that day. In action fierce, how brave, how Well, I leave some loftier Muse to tell. 72 . “ Come, yield thee !” cried the Orange-man, “ Resist my fire you never can, “ My grappling irons out I’ll throw, “ And into port a prize I’ll tow ! 73 . “ Cease, boaster cease !” the Charlotte cried, “ Thy vaunting menace I deride ; “ My crew are Britons bold and free, “ X scorn thy grappling irons and thee! “ My metal's pto of, it will be found, “ From stem to stern my timbers sound “ And howsoe’er you wish to lord it, “ 1 by no Dutchman will be boarded 75 . The Dutchman sunk, with all his crew. To aid the Caroline she flew. The Castlereagh though bearing down To cut her off seem’d fully prone ^ 76 . But this by Captain Whitbread seen, He placed his vessel quick between Both ships, in such a gallant way. The broadside of the Castlereagh 77 . Himself received, nor only that, He silenced Captain Hang-up-Pat ; The Sussex too, with manly notion. Manoeuvred now, and made a motion , 78 . The Royal Charlotte to relieve. But ’ere he could this act achieve, A broadside from the Liverpool, Soon made the Sussex’ ardour cool. * The Cora maadejLof the Castlereagh. 19 79 . The Royal Charlotte bravely storm’d Her foes, and wonders she perform’d ; ’Till, having honour gain’d enough, The Bedford tow'd her safely off. 80 . Though somewhat crippled , — would you seek Her now, she lies in Cranbourn Creek, At anchor till the wind is fair To sail to Weymouth for repair. 81 . The Vansittart was sore beset By that stout vessel the Burdett ; The match unequal, yet, I ween, The Vansittart, so sprightly seen, 82 . Was quite astonishing to view, By those who not the secret knew ; With Congreve rockets they had stor’d her. Without an Admiralty order, 83 . Which, taking fire by accident, Did what the Captain never meant. The Queen, an ancient seventy-four , No part in the engagement bore ; D 20 84 . For she miss'd stays , besides, had got Much crippled by some random shot. The Clarence, having sprung a leak* Was thought for action all too weak. 85 . The Regent, in the dire affray, From grape-shot suffer’d much, they say. And e’en (his former power forsaking) Could no position take for raking. 80 . The Stock-Exchange, with dreadful stir, Poured broadsides on the Westminster ; And plied her shot so thick and fast, The Westminster soon lost a mast. 87 . This brought the Burdett to her aid. Whose thunder soon the foe dismay’d : That flying quick in sore disgrace, The Hoax resolv’d to give her chace. 88 . The Ellenborough boldly tried To sink the Cochrane, who defied The fierce attack, though run aground, And swore her timbers xvere unsound. 21 89 . As darkness now had cloath’d the scene, Two fire-ships , sent their line between, Destroy the foe with deadly ire, — The very sea appears on fire. 90 . Spectators, from the crowded strand, Proclaim around on every hand, With shouts of joy and loud huzza’s, That conquest crowns the British cause . 91 . Another show ! another fight ! A fortress is attack’d by Night ; The deep-mouth’d cannon now appals That’s storming, bless us ! canvass walls ! 92 . The fury of the battering train, Appears expended all in vain, — The cloth defies its fierce control, It does not make a single hole. 93 . But, lo ! unfolding to the view, An object of resplendent hue : — A Temple built in gorgeous state That’s unto Concord dedicate ! 2 % 94 . Hail glorious fabric ! scene of light ! That fling’st thy lustre on the night, The dreary prospect to illume, Long wrapt in War’s Cimmerian gloom ! 95 . Transparencies adorn each side, Where noblest emblems are descried ; Where, deckt with each attractive grace. We the domestic virtues trace. 96 . Yon scene’s no doubt, with kind intent, T’ illuminate the people meant, But sure t’ would brighter power envi'iice* Could it illuminate a P — — . 97 . Strife hanislid Heav'n to Earth descends, And its infernal reign extends In hearts of tyrants, who destroy The fairest fruit of human joy : — • 98 . An angel in Imperial form, With patriot zeal and bosom Warm, Comes with swift bolts of justice hurl’d, To drive the daemon from the world, 23 99 . And send him to the shades below, To dwell with fiends ! But, is this so ? And is he to Tartarus gone ? Does he on earth possess no throne ? 100 . No Hag with incantations dire. To keep alive fell Discord’s fire? No mortal fiends, with malice fell, To cherish still this imp of hell ? 101 . What more remains to glad the sight Upon this gay and joyous night ? The bridge adorn’d with many a name, Enroll’d in Britain’s page of fame. 102 . Behold a splendid tower near, Its proud majestic summit rear : — Of all the matchless novelty, Prepared John Bull to gratify, 103 . Or Fleet or Temple, I insist, This one stands highest on the list, A prodigy by all allow’d ; — But why that bustle in the crowd? 24 104. Why turn they towards St. J s’s P — k ? Say, what new wonder claims remark ? All stare — “ Is’t fireworks to admire ?” “ Zounds ! the Pagoda, sir, ’s on fire !” 105. O ! cruel fate ! thus to destroy At once a R t’s fav’rite toy ; It took, at least, three months in making. By arduous toil and Sabbath breaking ! 100 . So perfect form’d in every part, . A very monument of art, In one short hour, its pride to level — O 1 this will play the very devil ! 107 The news has reach’d the P — -e’s ear, O, most disastrous ! most severe ! With disappointment and surprise, “ What, my Pagoda burnt !” he cries ; 108. “ My Fete is spoil’d ! I am undone ! “ Go call the engines out ! quick ! run !” “ Your H — h — ss, they are now in play, “ But all in vain,” — >“ Oh heavy day 1” 25 109 . “ Lop-ear’d fanatics with their cant, “ At my extravagance may rant, “ And this event so melancholy, “ Pronounce a judgment on my folly. 110 . “ Ye Gods must one of Pr ly state, “ Yield to the common mortal’s fate, “ And find the elements combine, “ To crush a favorite fond design ? 111 . “ His bliss just like some gaudy flower, “ The flaunting pageant of an hour! “ A toy I had, my chief delight, “ My thought by day, my dream by night ; 112 . “ A toy well form’d to please the fair, “ Who ever were my joy and care ; “ Most gracefully erect it stood, “ Its texture, solid, firm, and good. 113 . “ That toy destroyed, by cruel fire, “ The ladies will no more admire ! “ ’Tis burnt ! O worst of all my pains. “ A stump of it alone remains. £6 114 . “ This feviPs more than I can bear, 44 Ho ! bring another bottle, there ! 44 A copious bumper let me swill, 44 Go, Mac, — proclaim thy R— t’s will; 115 . 44 Go forth to lawn, to park, and fair, 44 Amid the group assembled there ; 44 Go enter every booth and show, 44 And publish unto high and low, 116 . 44 That, on this night of jollity, 44 This Centenary Jubilee, 44 It is — proclaim to peer and punk, 44 Our R 1 pleasure to get drunk.” THE END. rRINTSD BY W. MARCHANT IN GRAM-COB RT, BENCH URCH-STREET. THE r T’s FAIR, OR Grand, Galante-Show / / % #oem, BY PETER PINDAR, Esq. Author of the R t’s Fleet, R——1 Runaway, fa. $c. " Come, shew ’em in here ! shew ’em in ! " We’re just a going to begin ; — " There’s fun my lads, both in and out, '* Behold thp R 1 Round-about ! " This is the R fs Booth ! come on ! "We Scowtan beat and Richardson, " Our actors are a clever band, " Expert are some at sleight of hand : * Our Columbine's a lively sprite, " And very nimble at a Jtight; n But none, 1 will be bold to swear, " Can match our FOOL in all the fair.” LonOon : by JOHN FAIRBURN, 2, Broadway, Ludgate-Hill. Price Eighteen-pence, Printed by W. M archaht, Jngram-Coait* Fenehurcb-Street. THE R T's FAIR ! &c. &e. 1 . We play- things find for every age, Of those who trifle on life’s stage ; Great children, like the lesser ones, Will cry for toys, in peevish tones : 2 . Miss wants a doll to dress and dandle, Just as dames their babies handle ; A drum is master Jackey’s hobby — 1 A rocking horse best pleases Bobby : 3 . From which some wise heads would infer, v Sure traits of future character Say, Jack was form’d, by destiny A son of warlike Mars to be : B 4 4 . While fated ’twas, (by this same rule,) A stable should be Bobby’s school, To study slang and jockey graces. For Epsom or Newmarket races. 5 . But, how diversified and wild The pastimes of the full-grown child ! Some choose the closet, some the field, The pen or truncheon prone to wield ; 6 . Some love in gown and wig to chatter, And common sense to pieces batter ; Some men are most inclin’d to milling , Others to various modes of killing ; 7 . For, some with swords kill, some with phials, Others with O — d Ba y trials ; The last, though slow, yet full as sure, When Judge and Ketch make fate secure. 8 . Some thump the lapstone, some the cushion, As each for bread or fame is pushing ; Some matches make, and some make speeches, Some mend our souls, and some mend breeches. 5 9 . Yet think not life a jest I deem — There are exceptions from my theme ; Men whose important occupation Flies all childish recreation : 10 . Such is the man of patriot soul, Whose frown corruption can control. Whose heart erect and bosom pure No bribe can tempt, no place can lure : 11 . Such is the man of learned toil, Who frequent wastes the midnight oil In lucubration deep and sage, To moralise and mend the age : 12 . Such is But there’s no need to tell The reader what he knows full well, That such exceptions must be all Whose conduct’s truly rational : 13 . Of such I sing not ■ — Titled babies. Unrefined or polish’d gabies, All the trifling shallow train Demand alone my Muses strain ; 14 . Children fond of shew and clatter* Of what age it does not matter, Whether five or fifty-three, Children still they are to me. 15 . I even meddie not with ..... Who don’t delight in foolish things, Who rise betimes, lead sober lives, Set good example, — love their wives ; 16 . Accustom’d to a soldier’s fare, A soldier’s hardships who can bear ; Who hate on downy beds to lie. Or stretch in silken luxury ; 17 . Who, if to foreign climes they go, Have little relish for a show ; But, with inspection keen inclin’d, Seek food and profit for the mind : 18 . Yet, if I see proud fortune’s minion Fluttering on folly’s pinion, Faith, I deem him lawful game, And freely will I take my aim. 7 19 . Dame Nature as we may behold Is of a democratic mould, Pays no regard to rank and birth, In framing children of the earth ; 20 . Impartially doth she bestow Her gifts upon the high and low, And not a straw she seems to care What coats or coats of arms they wear. 21 . A dairy-maid we often See As straight as any poplar tree, While we may find a marchioness As crooked as the letter S ; 22 . Sometimes her greatest pains she’ll take, A footman when about to make ; But work so careless and unhandy Upon a Peer he’s turn’d out bandy : 23 . Nor is this all, — so little she Respect doth bear nobility, His whole proportion — she’ll attack And place a hump upon his back : 8 24 . I much suspect she owes some spite, To peers, and findeth her delight. By freaks like these to bring disgrace Upon our proud patrician race ; 25 . Could it be else that if we meet Or snob, or tinker, in the street, If with a lump his back is stor’d, The animal is called my Lord ? 26 . Thus the endowments of the mind. At random she bestows we find : — To college, sends the titled fool. And genius to a parish-school ; 27 . Confining not to humble state, What vulgar we denominate, And making various ranks we see, But in externals disagree. 28 . One walks about in worsted hose, While spurr’d and booted ’tother goes ; This coat is frieze , that superfine , One drinks strong beer, the other wine. 9 29 . Tis thus if Cribb or Belcher throw The gauntlet to a fistic foe, And dare him to hard knocks and rubs At Wimbledon or Wormxvood-Scrubs, 30 . We may behold upon the day Appointed to decide the fray, In thick procession move along, The motley, mixed, and anxious, throng, 31 . By every road and pass that leads Unto the scene of bloody deeds : — Together jumbled there we can see, Peers, pickpockets, and all the fancy ; 32 . My lord in curricle may go, And on his donkey sandman Joe; Unlike in equipage and name, But still in mind and taste the same : 33 . That taste which both alike disposes To feast their sight with bloody noses, Which finds such nameless charms and graces, In swollen eyes and batter’d faces : 10 34 . Alike does either bosom thrill, With pleasure at the glorious mill. And, when exhausted with hard beating, The champions, from the ring retreating, 35 . Have been restored and render’d stronger, To bruise each other somewhat longer. It equal rapture doth impart To each humane and tender heart : 36 ; The men the same, by rank though sunder’d, This bets his bob and that his hundred ; This home retires to Berkley-Square , That does to Tothill-Fields repair: 37 . By each the day’s high sport is vaunted, (How well too every hit was planted!) They both extol the victor’s fame, And both, with oaths, pronounce him game . 38 . Thus, having prov’d how minds agree, Whate’er their owners rank may be ; And since of those of finer stuff, God knows the number’s small enough, 11 39 . Why ought the vulgar low to sate. On what’s denied the vulgar great ? Why not great men, just like the many, Have privilege to play the zany? 40 . You know, though neither mad nor tipsey, A chancellor could act a gypsey. And prove how lawyers can excel in The noble art of fortune-telling. 41 . Bartholomew his annual court Still holds, to yield the rabble sport ; There knowing blades, from Saffron-Hill^ Of gin and beer may have their fill * 42 . With Field-Lane beauties, deckt so fine. On sausages delicious dine ; Or oisters, then a welcome cheer, While salt-box strains enchant the ear ; 43 . Enraptur’d standing to admire, The fellowwho devours Jire; And, all the evenings joys to top. May end it with a shitting hop c 12 44 . Then, since in country and in town, The city looby and the clown. Indulge themselves at wake and fair. Why not the great such pleasures share? 45 . If lords grin through a horse’s collar. Those amusements free to all are ; Or Countesses for smocks should race, Who’d not enjoy the nobfe chase ? 46 . A Marquis running in a sack, Who would in angry mood attack ? Or who, like an ungracious lout, Deny a P his Roundabout? 47 - A truce then with ill-manner’d railing, Fun and pleasure who would fail in? To the R t’s Fair we’ll run. There the game is just begun : 48 . Pomp and grandeur there display’d is. Lords and Dukes, and titled Ladies; Who is he, with soul disloyal, Would neglect diversion r— — 1 ? 13 49 . What a scene of carnival ! The park is proud of its canaille; A throng of tents display’d around. Like mushrooms do bestrew the ground ; 50 . What charming tenements they’ll be, For our mushroom nobility ! There paper lanterns are to light. And put the little birds to flight! 54 . “ Oh, la!” Miss Sally cries, “ Oh dear! “ Papa, do tell me what’s that there ?” “ What, child?” “ That thing just like a steeple, “ Standing up above the people?” 52 . “ Dear me ! now, how you tease a body, “ With questions, child — that’s a pagody; “ And there’s a bridge that’s stout and good* “ Its texture firm, though built with wood: 53 . “ That this bridge might be strongly made, “•Some wise heads were together laid.” O, bless me ! what a goodly sight Appears, now turning to the right! 14 54 . Princesses, Dukes, and Earls, in rows, Assembled here to see the shows ! What various sounds assail the ear, That form a medley, strange and queer ! 55 . “ There, — that’s the It 1 !” — “ Is it so ?”■ — M My cocks up, a ha’p’ny a throw !” — “ The Marchioness of H- — — d’s nigh” — “ Here nic egame nuts , my boys, who’ll buy ?” 56 . “ Who’s that?” “ The L— d C— f Jfc—e,” “ He “ Why, d n it, where’s his dignity ? “ His head is like a jowl of salmon ” — “ Come, fair play ! I will stand no gammon I” 57 . “ What man is that beneath the shed ?” “ What, him there with the nose so red ?” “ Sir W— -m C- s, is it not?”— “ A penny a slice plum-pudding hot !” 58 . “ Pray why, Sir, is yon booth erected, “ Overhead so well protected ?” “ Lest rocket sticks, in coming down, “ Perchance should crack some r- — — d crown : 15 59 . “ But ev’ry low plebeian mazzard, “ Must be content to run the hazard ; “ Some hundred nappers broke would be, “ A trifle at a Jubilee !” 60 . “ There Birch, the Alderman, I spy!”— “ Who’ll toss up for a mutton pie ?” “ And Sheridan I see’s come in !’*■ — “ Come, who’s here for a glass of gin ” 61 . “ That is the man that made the rockets !’’— “ Come, keep your hands out of my pockets.” — “ Which is theQueen, Jack?” — “Hold your mag!” — “ Come, who’ll dip in my lucky bag.” 62 . “ Those' are the Knights, who collars wear.”*— “ Who’ll garters buy, sixpence a pair ?” — “ But, let us run and see the shows “ In yonder park, that stand in rows.” 63 . “ Come, shew ’em in here ! shew ’em in! ^ “ We’re just a going to begin ; “ There’s fun, my lads, both in and out, 41 Behold the R— l Roundabout !” 16 64 . “ This is the R t’s Booth : — Come on, 44 We Scowton beat and Richardson ; 44 Our actors are a clever band, 44 Expert are some at sleight of hand : 65 . “ Our Columbine's, a lively sprite, 44 And very nimble at a flight ; 44 But none, I will be bold to swear, “ Can match our FOOL in all the fair. 66 . “ Come, shew ’em in ! The bill behold, “ Where our performances are told ; — 44 To-night we act the 4 Mourning Bride 44 The 4 Royal Fugitive ’ beside ; 67 . 44 Between the acts a song is sung, 44 Called 4 O the days when I was young ;* 44 And farther still, to entertain, 44 We have a dance that’s called 4 the Sprain' n 68 . 44 The Royal Y k does next display 44 Its play -bill of 4 The Runaway 44 The 4 Wife and Mistress too, remark, r 44 Besides the ? 4 Bishop and the Clark ; ’ 17 69 . “ The Cl— — ce booth invites the throng ; “ This way ! we will not keep you Long : “ With a spectacle you’ll be treated, “ Which shews how Jordan was defeated; 70 . “ Besides a serious interlude, “ The title on’t ‘ Ingratitude ’ — “ An after-piece, too, very droll, “ ‘ The Sailor beaten by a Pole,' ” 71 . The Cumberland Phantasmagoria , A wondrous scene doth set before you : — Grim spectres from the world below. Foul deeds of other days to shew. 72 . “ The Ell — b — h booth is this — “ Come, witness our performances ! “ Such sights I’m sure you never saw, “ They’ll make you stare and cry, O, Law ! 73 . “ We’ve here performers on the rope , “ That will surpass your warmest hope;—* “ A lawyer and a seaman brave, “ A match of single stick wiU have ; 18 74 . “ A Pantomime there was to be, “ Here acted, call’d the ‘ Pillory ; “ But all our efforts have been foil’d, “ And the machinery is spoil’d : 75 . “ Walk in ! walk in ! ” “ No,” says a clown, “ I fear your show will tumble down ; “ It leans on one side , so I’m wrong, ** If such a buildiug can stand long.” 76 . “ Come, tumble in ! This way ! This way ! “ At our gay booth, the Ca — tle- h, “ The ‘ Africans ’ is represented, 4 ‘ A negro-dance too, just invented ; 77 . “ The farce of ‘Two Strings to your Bow, * “ And, what is best of all the show, “ Your pow’rs of laughter will be jogg’d, “ With an old piece, called Paddy jlogg'd. 78 . The Hertford booth does next evince Its talent in ‘ Is he a Prince V * Love d la Mode,' too, in a sly sense. By the L — d Ch — mb— t — n’s own licence . 19 79 . A smart baboon from Yarmouth here. Will play some antics odd and queer; The whisker d animal don’t wince At anything, — he’ll beat a P 80 . And here’s an antient goat beside, Who once play’d with a parson’s bride. So foul a trick — whate’er is said for’t — He well deserv’d to lose his head for’t 81 . Fresh exhibitions, without end. Around on every side extend : — Fire-eaters, tumblers, and rope-dancers* Conjurors and necromancers. 82 . And here wild beast — collections too, From all parts of the globe you view ; With many a monster, dwarf, and fairy. By turns to please, disgust, or scare, ye 83 . Here a phenomenon you’ll see, A creature called a V*ck*ry — A monstrous kind of savage bird, (You of his likeness never heard) 20 84 . Bred in the regions of reform , A climate, genial, mild, and warm ; But caught, and in corruptions cage Confined, he learnt to fret and rage, 86 . To sharpen his ferocious beak, And peck at all who dared to speak; Best pleas’d, amid his various capers, To fix his talons on newspapers : 86 . Just like the worm that, prone to change. Doth through new shapes of being range, This through an eagles form hath past, A vulture next — an owl at last. 87 . Here’s to be view’d, a German hen> Such as you ne’er may see again ; When brought to England we have learn’d Her feathers into diamonds turn’d : 88 . Though old and harmless to the sight. The animal is full of spite ; For though, of chickens, she has hatch’d, A brood that never yet was match’d: — 21 89 . Gamecocks and dunghill — every sort. Quite ripe for mischief or for sport, Though never in her life was she, Denied her num’rous brood to see ; 90 . Yet so much malice doth she bear, One widow'd hen, opprest with care, (With many foes who can control her,) And but one chicken to console her 91 . She pecks and drives her off whene’er This only chick her dam comes near, Till, quite provok’d at this old hen, The chick resolv’d to peck again . 92 . “ The Royal Waxwork ! Come and see 1 “ Delighted you will surely be ! Of crown'd heads here’s a goodly show, “ Together standing in a row ! 93 . “ There’s Alexander— it is said, “ Crown never graced a better head ; “ For he made war to give us peace , “ And fought but to bid fighting cease . 22 94 . “ A Span-* — h maniac you see, “ From bondage recently set free, “ Is killing those who loos’d bis chain — ** Pray let him be confin’d again ! 95 . “ Don’t touch this one — ’tis newly made , “ And very soft I am afraid ; — “ A Yankee chief you there behold, * £ Who fain his country would have sold : • 96 . “ What grief and melancholy now, “ Are seated on the Yankee’s brow ; “ For opposite — his hopes to mock, “ Sits Boney chain’d to Elba's rock ! 97 . “ You’ll Admirals and Bishops find, “ Here of a very curious kind ; “ Such titles fitting either clap, “ Like Blucher with a trencher-cap . 98 . ■ ‘ This way ! our shew you will confess ■ 4 Beats all the rest — the sorceress ; 44 Who once you all know went to York, The strangest prodigies to work. 23 99 . “ She with a potent talisman , 44 Upon a most mysterious plan, 44 To officers could footmen raise, 44 And work promotions various ways, 100 . 44 Both in the ar— y and the ch~-ch, “ Quite leaving merit in the lurch : — 44 The devil, though, we often find, 44 To those who serve him is unkind ; 101 . “ Our far-famed sorceress, in sooth, 44 Has liv’d to know this bitter truth ; “ For her familiar now is flown, 44 And all her magic power gone, 102 . “ While she, deserted and forlorn, 44 By calumny to pieces torn, 44 Upon a bench is now made fast, 44 To ponder days of splendor past. 103 . 41 What animal’s there to be seen ? 44 ’Tis of no ordinary mien, 44 Twin Bulls both join’d together who, 44 Have but one head between the two ! 24 104 . 44 How ? what unfeeling knaves are those* 44 Who give one carcase such hard blows, 44 And goad his sides to make him kick — 44 Confound the base and savage trick ! 105 . 44 And now they tie his legs— egad ! 44 These fellows must be surely mad ; 44 Ask why upon such work they set are, 44 They say, * to make him walk the better.’ 106 . A thousand pens ’t would need I swear. To paint the objects every where, Behind, before, both left and right. That crowd upon the wand’ring sight : — 107 . There, Barbers lanterns feast the eyes. With many a Barber-ous device : There, stalls of cakes and gingerbread, Here, ribbands to. adorn the head 108 . Of many a damsel who may bear A long remembrance of this Fair — There drinking, dancing, fun and noise, Here Oranges , and there Dutch toys l But, lo ! to celebrate the day* Another wonder they display The It- — t in his Grand Balloon* A journey’s taking to the moon ! 110 . With gas inflated, plump, and round, From jilthy vessels, yet ’tis found, That, notwithstanding these supplies, It clings to earth — it will not rise ! 111, Although the Herald and the Post With ponderous belloxvs are engross’d, ’Tis all in vain ; for not a breeze Can lift him from such things as these . 112 . What wonder that it will not move A single inch the ground above, When in the car you may remark The family of Noah’s ark ? 113 . There noxious beasts joi every kind, And reptiles venomous , you’ll find ; There fawning spaniels, foxes sly, And rav’ning wolves together lie 26 114 . Toads, vipers, snakes* and scratching cats ; Old goats and day-light-shunning hats : — Be wise — the hateful brood" turn out Or you will ne’er ascend t I doubt. 115 . The gas of your balloon’s inflation Must be public approbation ; Then wilt thou rise on pinions light, A graceful object to the sight* no. While honour points the manly aim, And, wafted, by the breeze of fame, Each destin’d point you’ll reach secure. And taste of pleasures that endure. THE END. W.-4yiAJicaA*Mr* Printer, IngramiCovrfc, London. Lilliputian Navy!! THE R T’s FLEET ORj JOHN BULL AT THE SERPENTINE: % $oem, BY PETER PINDAR, Esa. Come, Johnny, do not stay to dine. Let’s hasten to the S — e ; Let thy attention there engage. The Wonder of this Wondrous Age ! The Fleet ! The Fleet ! behold it there ! — Why, Johnny, pray what makes you stare? *' The Fleet Sir ?” Yes, Man, don’t you spy it ? It is a Fleet, who dare deny it ? A Fleet, built on the newest Plan, By many a skilful Arfizan. Fit for — (nay, John, thy mouth pray shut,) Fit for the King of Lilliput ! ! FIFTH EDITION. LonDon: Published by JOHN FAIRBURN, 2, Broadway, Ludgate-Hill. Price “Eighteen-pence. THE R -Ts FLEET, $C. <$c. 1 . COME rouse thee! rouse thee ! Johnny Bull ! Nor wait until the Park is full ; Come, haste and join the eager throng. Fast moving through the streets along ! 2 . Nay, do not scruple the expense, ‘Tis pleasure, John, that calls thee hence, Nor coldly calculate the use. That sums so lavish'd would produce, 3 . If given to cheer the vet’ran maim'd. In bold exploits of valour fam’d ; Or given to each aching breast, The vet' ran fall'n has left distrest: B 4 4 . What are glad hearts to staring eyes ? The soul’s calm pleasing to surprise? What’s charity, in various ways, To public pomp and holidays ? 5 . What, seamen who have faced grim slaughter. To little ships upon fresh water ? What, filling poor men’s empty pockets. To shows, balloons, and Congreves rockets ? 6 . Would ’st thou presume (iinskitt’d in letters) To judge the actions of thy betters ? Would’st thou (the matter not to mince) Think thou art wiser than a P ? 7 . Oh ! no ; well knows liis sapience r- f. Thou never could st be so disloyal; He knows thy mouth (still gaping wide,) With novelty must be supplied; 8 . He knows thy ear still on -thfe stretch. Each breath of rumour strange to catch ; Thy hands he knows great sights applaud And eke he knows back is broad. 5 Expenses, heap’d 1 with daily care. He knows it strong enough to bear ; For e’en to mountains swell the pack, Thy lusty sinews ne’er would crack. TO. What though, when lords and ladies come, In splendour to a D g-R — m ; Thy sons assembled in large masses, Will growl displeasure as he passes ; IT. Let them but have — O cheap concession ! A sight of banquet or procession, A gala or illumination, Their anger’s sooth’d to approbation. 12 . Come, Johnny, do not stay to dine. Let’s hasten to the S e! Let thy attention there engage, The wonder of this wond’rous age! 13 . The Fleet! The Fleet ! behold it there ! — Why, Johnny, pray what makes you stare ? “ The Fleet, sir ?” Yes, man, don’t you spy it, It is a Fleet, who dare deny it ? 6 14 . A Fleet built on the newest plan. By many a skilful artizan, Fit for — (nay, John, thy mouth pray shut,) Fit for the King of Lilliput ! 15 . Let Nelson’s name no more be sounded, By deathless laurels though surrounded ; Let Howe and Duncan (sons of thunder) Never more excite our wonder ! 16 . St. Vincent hide thy fallen head, And mourn, alas ! thy glories fled ; But shout his fame, this fleet who plann’d. The first best toyman in the land ! 17 . Lament, lament, great Alexander Prone in other climes to wander ! Prussia’s Monarch mourn thy fate, Denied a sight that came too late l 18 . Thou Bonaparte ! luckless wight ! Fast bound in Elba’s Isle so tight, Had’st thou been blest to see this day. Encircled with imperial sway, 7 19 . Thou’dst envy not our commerce vast, In human annals ne’er surpass’d, Deem colonies no more than chips Thou’dst only envy us our ships. 20 . Rejoice, for now thy name shall shine. Soft Naiad of the S— — ne, While meaner streams neglected lie. And weeping Thames his urn shall dry. 21 . No more, upon thy verdant banks, Shall wanton urchins’ early pranks Offend thee, e’er Sol’s ruddy beam Has shone upon thy silent stream ; 22 . No more shall they with bottoms bare. Unto thy chaste cold arms repair ; Nor smirch’d mechanic tiare to lave His carcase in thy limpid wave.~ 23 . No ; guarded by thy bum-proof fleet. The bold invaders thou can’st meet, And pour on each intrusive tail A broadside volley, thick as hail. 8 24 . Yes ; thou superior now shalt shine, While Ocean weeps in tears of brine ; And crowds shall throng each grassy side To view the honours of thy tidfel 25 . There lords and ladies ev’ry Sunday And coblers eke upon Saint Monday, Shall gazing own, with crests elate. Our country’s naval triumph great. 26 . No foot unhallow’d, Kens— n Thy gardens shall intrude upon ; Nor to thy stately palace near, Come sounds unfit for r— 1 ear. 27 . No more, when leaves Autumnal fall. Shall schoolboys dare ascend thy wall, To strip thy trees with busy toil, And bear away the chestnut -spoil. 28 . Then Johnny sigh’d and shook his head ; And, in his gravest manner, said, “ Is all this naval preparation “ For little Boys’ intimidation ?. 9 29 . “ Must cannon in our ears be pealing “ Lest urchins come a chestnut stealing ? “ And Navies skim the narrow tide “ Lest there some blacksmith wash his hide ? 30 . “ O ! useless gew-gaw ! empty bubble ! “ Waste of hands and waste of trouble ! “ O, waste of time! (cried John still louder) " Waste of timber! waste of powder! 31 . “ I swear — Be still good John and listen, I see thine eyes with anger glisten ; I find thee still a headstrong elf, Resolv’d on thinking for thyself. 32 . Thy cudgel — (reason) ever wielding— Wilt never learn more courtly yielding? Nor thus oppose thy solid schemes To r d fancies, P— — ly dreams ? 33 . Would thy investigating eye. Into a pal — e secrets pry And know what private reasons lurk, For this stupendous public work ? 10 34 . Still with thy plain, blunt yes or no, In one dull path thou’dst plodding go ; No double purpose fills thy head, By thee no more is meant than said . 35 . Faith John, thou yet hast much to learn, To understand each mazy turn, Within the politicians’ brain ; — But, come, this matter I’ll explain. 30 . You know we have within our city, Councils (true, not over witty,) Grave assemblies of debate, Who meddle with affairs of state. 37 Each great political event, Will this officious parliament, Canvass, nay, censure too, (od rot’em,) And sift state matters to the bottom. 38 . They speeches make and their crude notions Hammer into shape of motions. And take addresses (saucy things) Unto the very ears of K— gs. 11 They minist&Fs attack at pleasure, Find fault with many a public measure, Call Com n H — 11s and make a stir there $ But that’s not all, they go still further : — 40 . Suppose some Pers ge of State Should with a P ss link his fate, Who gives him (nine months past arid gone) A Lovely Heiress to his T e. 41 . Forbid, dear John, that you or I, With hand prophane, should ever try To draw aside the veil that lies Twixt us and Hymen's mysteries. 42 . No farther will we seek to go Than outward circumstances shew— Enough for us that they were mated; And shortly after separated. 43 . How folks should act when so divided^ I have not clearly heard decided ; But on such tbpfcs oft we see Opinions widely disagree. c 12 44 . Some think a nunnery’s seclusion, Secure from any male intrusion, Is fitting most the female’s lot, Who singly wears the married knot , 45 . While unrestrain’d the lordly spouse In ev’ry pleasure shall carouse, And choose for absent wife a Proxy , Where’er he finds a fav’rite doxy ; 46 While others think (and, ’tis most true,. I am inclin’d to think so too,) The lovely bride of blood m — j — c. Shut from society domestic,, 47 . May shine at balls, at routs, and plays, May share the pomp of public days, And, without criminal inducement, Indulge in every gay amusement., 48 . But slander, Johnny’s never slow, At any dirty work we know, And none than? female unprotected A readier victim is selected. 13 49 . Yes ; imps of malice still we find In high life, as in low inclin’d, With tales of scandal fain to juggle us, Like Sir J— and L — y D s. 50 . But people of discreeter morals Should meddle not with wedded quarrels ; This, prudence says to all, and certes, So once' said Sir W m C— -s ; 51 . Who, in such squabble interposing, Lucklessly would thrust his Nose in, Which got so tweak’d that life’s duration Will not allay its inflammation. 52 . But these same pert and prating sinners, So fond of speeches and of dinners, Would to this rule objection take, And certain nice distinctions make. 53 . They said a P— -ss, tho’ deserted, By calumny should not be dirtied ; Nay, deem’d her character to be A kind of public property. 14 54 . . And if beset with venal spies, With minions gend’ring basest lies, Exposed to dark examinations. Fixing unknown imputations, 55 . Her sole legitimate Protector, At such a crisis should neglect her, They ev’ry energy would rouse, And hand and heart her cause espouse. 5 §. This purpose fully bent upon. They took a trip to Kens n And more to give their errand grace. They took the M— r, with sword and maces, 57 . But he who led the grand array, Along St. Giles’s chose the way, And made their choler very high burn, To find themselves turn’d off at Tyburn. 58 . Yet through the park in proud procession, With many a dutiful profession. They went to clear from imputation, The victim of foul accusation. 15 59 . Yes, this iljey did, (a saucy train !) But will they dare do so again , When such a potent armament , Commands the way which erst they went? 60 . No, no, ye Waith— ns and ye W— ds, You must restrain your peevish moods — Learn female wrongs to treat like stoics Nor deal so largely in heroics! 61 . The Houses with addresses cram. Of Car n, or of Bu— m, — - To those you shall pass unmolested : — Nay, e’en with knighthood be invested ; 62 . But come not here with plaintive ditty, Of tender feeling, or of pity, To solace a neglected bride, Or your presumption we will chide ! 63 . If here again, you make approaches, We’ll batter, faith! your gilded coaches ! But come within our cannons level, We’ll blow you to the very d 1 ! 16 64 . But who shall speak thy wondrous praise, Thou miracle of these our days ! Thou finish’d leader of the ton, Whom every eye is fix’d upon ! 65 . Thou patron of politer arts — The every soul that life imparts, To stay makers and wig contrivers. Tailors and professions divers ! 66 . Thou jolly full grown god of love. Who, vulgar prejudice above, Deem’st marriage bands but links of feather, Binding only fools together, 67 . And quite impotent to confine, P— ly souls when they incline To leave their own wives, or repair To kiss some other wedded fair. 68 . Thou star of elegance and fashion ! Thou pink of all that’s gay and dashing ! Graceful em-bon-point Adonis ! P e of modern macaronies ! 17 69 . Long thou’st been the admiration, Of a wise and thinking nation ! Oft thou hast surprised us truly, Time past gone as well as newly ; 70 . But this last grand thought astounds us— Yes its brilliancy confounds us — All thy former prodigies, The world must own were fools to this . 71 . What though to our satisfaction, Prov’d thou hast, there’s more attraction In old wrinkled age and pimples, Than in youthful smiles and dimples ? 72 . What though on recent glad occasions. Grand were thy illuminations — Cannon fir’d too from thy wall — Yet thy fleet surpasses all ! 73 . What were gold and silver fishes , Swimming ’mong the plates and dishes: (Menaced oft with streams of gravy) To this MATCHLESS LITTLE NAVY ? 18 74 . Raise your graceful Voices ldud ! Britons sure may well be proud. When the Ru — r of the nation Shews such skill in navigation l 75 . Though no laurelPd Alexander, He, a nautical commander. In historic page shall shine, Admiral of the S ! ! ! 76 . May he till the age Of Noah, Float in streams of Curagoa ! May his vigour ne’er grow rusty ! May no Venus old and fusty, 77 . (Driving him to desperation,) Frown upon his ardent passion ! May his dancing ne’er again Be interrupted by a sprain! 78 . Advancing now, with lowering mien, A cloud in the horizon seen, Spreads o’er bright sol it’s dusky powter, Descending quickly in a shower! 19 79 > A mist of darkness most profound, Involves the standers-by around. Who, drench’d with rain, their fate are cursing, When speedily the cloud dispersing, 80 Phoebus, with a gladdening ray, Pours again the flood of day, And, lo ! beneath his aspect bright, Old Neptune’s self appears in sight! 81 . Not as some artists, dull and stupid, Who of him know no more than Cupid, Have painted him with triple prong. And by sea-horses drawn along - 82 . A naval uniform he wore. And seem’d an ancient commodore ; Thin locks of grey, an added grace Gave to his weather-beaten face. 83 . No car proclaim’d the ocean’s God— Upon a cask of rum he rode, And, in his hand, ayard of clay * Was all that mark’d his sceptred sway. * A tobacco-pipe. D 20 84 . Of tritons , with their shells, not one, His godship did attend upon ; But all their places, well supplied A rough old boatswain, at his side; — 85 . Obedient to his master’s will, His grog he’d make, his pipe he’d fill ; Right blunt and honest were his tones, — They whisper’d he was Davy Jones. 80 . Quite fill’d with wonder and surprise, The crowd shrunk back with staring eyes — “ Avast!” the god said, “ don’t you know me? “ Ho yon forget how much you owe me? 87 . “ What makes you stare so? I am Neptune, “ All last war so well who kept tune, “ In engagements hot and many, “ To your song of Rule Britanny. 88 . “ Mayhap that now the war is o’er, “ Of Neptune you may think no more ; “ Of him, who always stood your friend ; “ Of him, who did your isle defend. 89 . “ When Boney with great preparation, “ Talk’d so much about invasion ; — “ He wanted islands — now he’s got one>— “ This he would have found a hot one. 90 . “ Twas I,— but where’s the man will doubt it? “ Zounds ! I scorn to prate about it — “ What are you met here to see ? “ I’m sure you never thought of me. 91 . “ Yon fleet of cock-boats? — I perceive it “ Englishmen ? — I can’t believe it — “ Go get you home, and cry for shame, “ That here in search of ships you came. 92 . “ Of Nelson did you never hear? “ Confound it, now my eyes feel queer !” A tear roll’d down his cheek so rough. Across his face he drew his cuff! 93 . “ What ships were, he knew, — heaven bless him! “ Sad day ! when grim death came to press him; “ Yet I’m glad ’twas so, in one sense ; “ For had he liv’d to see this nonsense, 22 94 . “ He would have been asham’d of fighting “ For people who could take delight in, “ Such a Navy as that there ; — “ D — n me ! but it makes me swear ! 95 . “ ‘ England expects ,’ — but what’s expected, “ With a fleet like this erected ? “ If ev 'ry man his duty did, “ He would (aye without being bid,) 96 . “ A rope’s-end lay on, without sparing, “ Ev’ry one who had a share in “ Building this same piece of folly — “ The sight on’t makes me melancholy. 97 . “ But as for him that order’d it, “ I’ll mince the matter not a bit - “ I don*t care whatsomde'er you call him, If I had him. I’d keel-haul him. 98 . “ You’ll say he never was at sea, “ But that don’t argufy with me — “ Whate’er the foolish or the wise say, “ Sink the stupid lubber I say ! 23 99 . “ What, John Bull ! Yo ho, my hearty ! “ Send these here ships to Bonyparty , “ To play with in the isle of Elby — “ Generous you may as well be. 100 . “ Mark what I say, John, and obey me — “ If such tricks again they play me, “ By the ocean they shall rue it !— “ England’s mine — I’ve long stuck to it 101 . “ Though foes endeavour’d to alarm ye “ Old Nick himself could never harm ye “ But vex me, and (howe’er you think it) “ I rais’d this land and I can sink it.” 102 . Thus said, and, in a cloud envelop’d, Quick from their sight old Neptune gallop’d, — No sooner gone, than all the crowd ’Gan mutter their displeasure loud. 103 . And, as their discontent grew higher, They swore toset the fleet on fire, When lo ! — for day had clos’d in night, Another object caught their sight ! • r» 24 104. A flight of Rockets mount the sky — ’Tis follow’d by each straining eye ! In flocks they hasten to the spot And Ships and Neptune are forgot 105. O ! what a goodly show is there ! What cyphers and devices rare ! I never thought that fire- work-blaze Could be transposed such various ways. 106. Lo ! now the motto, PEACE, they shew, — That should in brightest colours glow ; — But something of a dingy hue. Obscures it partly from the view ; — 107 Now ’tis entirely gone away; — What word succeeds it? AFRICA! A star shines there, — 1 wish ’twere brighter. Succeeded by a bishop’s mitre . 108 . I wonder what the next will be ? D.Y.— - what follows? M.A.C. A plume of feathers — sight most rare, Chang’d to three bottles I declare! 25 109 . What’s that ? a marquis' coronet — A prettier thing I never met ; ’Tis gone away, — O! sad disgrace! A pair of horns supplies its place. 110 . How quick they come and disappear! I sha’nt remember half, I fear : — A Princess bright, — good lack-a-day ! A queen of diamonds drives away! 111 . And there’s a knave , and there’s L. D. An anchor , now a pillory , A bear too in a j — ge’s dress, And P. II. chang’d to A. S. S. 112 . When terminated thus the show, The busy crowd prepar’d to go, And sup and chat at home about The wondersthey had seen without : 113 . But soon a murm’ring noise began, Which quick through all th’ assembly ran ; For, lo ! while gaping at the rockets , ^ set of knaves had pick'd their pockets. 26 114 . “ Had we been wise to stay at home, “ Nor gaping after fire-works come, “ We, by such conduct, had been winners, “ And sav’d the price of many dinners. 115 . “ D — n the squibs and crackers !” cried Loud voices heard on every side; “ This mountains labour in a mouse ends, “ To feast our eyes we have lost thousands.” 116 . “ So,” cried John Bull with secret pain, “ You won’t catch me this way again — “ ’Tis thus they ease me of my pelf, “ But I can only blame myself. 117 - “ If men like me who’re past their prime, “ Will children turn a second time, “ ’Tis fit they should as such be treated — “ By greater children robb’d and cheated.” 118 . A voice then whisper’d in his ear, “ John Bull, you’ve purchas’d knowledge dear, “ At length then in experience’ school, “ Learn never more to play the fool. 27 119 . “ Don't run stark mad, to gape and stare, “ At ev’ry thing that’s ne>v or rare, “ Learn curiosity to season, “ And weigh things in the scale of reason. 120 . “ Learn what is rational to prize, “ And what is trifling to despise ; “ Let folly have no pow’r to please you, “ Then pone will e'er attempt to fleece yon. 121 . “ Your pockets will not lighter grow, “ By looking at a silly show, ■ ‘ Nor like to day’s expensive joke, 11 Your promis’d pleasures end in smoke? THE END. ROYALTY FOG-BOUND; OR, THE of a AND THE FROLICS of a FORTNIGHT. A POEM. BY PETER PINDAR, ESQ. ©irtb coition. ** If we must perish, we thy will obey, * But let us perish in the face of day.” pope’s homer. The with sore vexation sigh’d; “ Oh, d n the fog !” his H -as cried ; “ Must all my pleasures be defeated, “ And I be like a subject treated ? “ Open the door, and let me out, “ And, d n me, turn the coach about; “ Old E h, that surly dog, “ And G-^ — • — w, shall indict the fog.” LONDON: Published by james johnston, 98 , cheapsid^ AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. 1814 . PRINTED BY HAMBLEN AND SEYFANG, GAREICK-HILL, THAMES- STREET. ROYALTY FOG-BOUND. 1 I sing the mischiefs which arise From muddy streets and foggy skies, When thicker mists the world o’er spread. Than that which Jove round Ajax shed. 2 I sing the perils of the street. When mortals jostle as they meet ; And silly elves, to blindness prone. Tremble to step across a bone. 3 I sing the fearful ills — Good God ! Which hover round the turnpike-road, When all around is veil’d from sight, And all before is thickest night, B 6 4 And, last of all, with creaking note, As tho’ vile quinseys stopp’d my throat, And as the tones began to play, Repell’d, or stifled them half way — 5 I strike the lyre to notes of pain. And as I sweep the aguish strain. Relate how Britain’s kingly bud. Befoul’d his royal knees with mud : 6 Then with a livelier grace I’ll sing, And tell a fortnight’s frolicking, When Jove the fiftieth kindly bent To mix in mortal merriment. 7 Apollo, if to thee belong The sceptre and the crown of song ; If, like the monarchs of the day. Thy empire has not passed away — - 8 Depute some muse to aid the line, Or send, great lyrist, all the nine ; For lays of mighty sort require The heav’nly groupe’s united fire. 7 9 The eve was damp and cloth’d in fog, The moon rov’d thro* the skies incog. When thro’ the streets, with rumbling xoai^ Rattled the R — s coach and four. 10 In vain had Mac, with modest tongue, Suggested that his P— — - was wrong ; The shiv’ring footmen curs’d in vain The whimsies of their master’s brain. 11 Page and postillion, sadly loth. Receiv’d the summons with an oath. And swore that Beelzebub had ne’er Travell’d in night so dark and queer. 12 But like the king, whose tow’ring pride Aspir’d to rule the rebel tide, The modern Canute greatly soar’d To govern. Nature’s tyrant lord. 13 A train of flambeaux led the way. Beaming an artificial day. Yet scarce the struggling gleams could make Their passage thro’ the dull opaque. 8 14 Twice round its plate, in march sublime, Had mov’d the herald hand of Time ; Twice had the bell with sonorous power Toll’d the departure of the hour ; 15 Twice had the R- ’s gold repeater Chaunted in shrill and measur’d metre, Ere to the road, with cautious fear. The post-boys led their slow career, 16 The dsemon of the fog bestrode, With despot stride, the darken’d road $ The torches shed a ghastly light. And lent new horror to the night, 17 The snorting steeds, half-starv’d. Got wot Now mov’d along in shuffling trot. Cheer’d by the driver’s echoing smack, Each flambeaux-bearer spurr’d his hack, 18 But fortune, in a wanton hour. Destroy’d the glory of the tour, Gave the poor outride’s jade a twitch, And flung the horseman in a ditch. 9 19 Then from the bag of winds she chose The keenest blast that Boreas blows ; True to her will, it wing’d its flight. And buried ev’ry torch in night. 20 Hard lot ! that he who rul’d the state Should thus become the sport of fate! And, spite of all his regal sway. Be hamper’d on his own highway ! 21 The coachman stopp’d — “ Dread Sir, indeed,” Said Mac — “ ’tis folly to proceed ; “ The Devil himself can’t find the way, ** So pray return, and wait for day.” 22 The P< with sore vexation sigh’d — “ Oh, d n the fog !” his H ss cried, “ Must all my pleasures be defeated, (t And I be like a subject treated ? 23 «« Open the door and let me out, « And, d me, turn the coach about. “ Old E -, that surly dog, “ And G- — w, shall indict the fog.” 10 24 Indict the fog! thrice happy thought, With more than mortal wisdom fraught. That stemm’d at once stern passion’s tide, And smooth’d the brow of haughty pride. 25 Well might the royal mind be flurried. To see its lovely empire buried* Hill, wood, and valley, copse and glade. Envelop’d in unnatural shade. 26 But vainly did his anger break, Vain was the hue that flush’d his cheek. In vain poor horses, coach, and weather. Were promptly wish’d at hell together. 27 Out stepp’d the P •, —the fog stood still. Regardless of the royal will ; But rather, royalty to spite. Thicker and thicker grew the night. 28 Incroaching on the dark footway, Unseen, a miry mountain lay ; What pity that the tongue were mute. Which should have warn’d the P— -’s foot. 11 29 Heedless of ill the R stood. First, on the margin of the mud ; What pity that no angel strove To save the man whom all men love! SO But oh ! no guardian sprite was near, To whisper caution in his ear : Deep in the mire, at step the third, Flounder’d the fav’rite of the Lord. 31 Not greater panic strikes the wretch. Who leaves the bar to meet Jack Ketch, When the stern foreman’s ruthless jaws Utter the thunders of the laws. 32 Not more could pious Draper stare. When curses broke his ev’niug pray’r, And lewdness gave his ears a dressing. And check’d his tongue’s uniinish’d blessing. S3 Not more was Lucifer astounded, As from the skies he fell confounded. When angry angels kick’d him out. For filling heav’n with hellish rout. 12 34 > Beep bedded on the miry rug. He lay most comfortably snug, ’Till, with no common share of pain. His footmen pick’d him up again. 35 A train of curses loud and long, First stammer’d from the royal tongue; Poor Mac was damn’d to ease his ire. While he as warmly damn’d the mire. 36 This was an admirable plan, And shewed the breeding of the man. To bow before the rod, not spurn it. And pass the oath, but not return it, 37 Men of mean parts and shallow sense Had answer’d with impertinence j And as the R ■ swore, not loth. Had quick return’d the royal oath. 38 But not so, Mac : with eyes of fire. He simply damn’d the fog and mire j Aware ’twould second madness prove. To execrate the son of Jove. 13 89 Aside his shiv’ring prince he stood, Encircled both his knees with mud, Regardless of the near approach Of flambeaux, postboys, page, and coach, 40 Engross'd in thought, while Mac survey’d The havoc which the fall had made. The carriage pole, unheeded foe, Laid the poor Secretary low. 41 The faithful courtier humbly press'd The very spot his Prince had bless’d, And there, with many a strange grimace. Hid his right honourable face. 42 Half dead, half smother’d, swearing, bawling, Loudly on all around him calling, The luckless wight lay grimly grinning. And stammer’d oaths with double meaning. 4 3 The man’s mishap enjoy’d the master. And soon forgot his own disaster ; Laugh’d loud, and relish’d much the joke. Then thus in merry accent spoke. c 14 “ Good, very good, poor Mac, poor Mac ! “ Come, get thee up, and let’s go back, fe Now both alike may d— — n the weather, “ And sympathize, my boy, together. 45 “ Well, thanks to God, and to the dirt, ** My poor sprain’d ancle is unhurt ; “ So d~ — n all satirists and sorrow, u We’ll drink to night and drive to-morrow.” 46 ’Twas wisely plann’d ; the mud-mark’d pair Stepp’d in the coach so debonnair ; Back tothe palace grop’d their way, And drown’d the memory of the day. 47 Next morn the sun had reach’d his noon, Gliding unseen thro’ Heaven’s saloon. When Jove again left his abode. To tempt the perils of the road. 48 Again along the streets be rattled j Again the dusky vapour battled ; Pass’d the mud heap, devoid of fear, And laugh’d to see bis image there. 15 49 From Mac to P , from P — — to Mac The sarcasm flew, and travel I’d back. Footman to footman pass’d the jeer. And postboys join’d in harmless sneer. 50 From town to village unimpeded. The noble travellers now proceeded ; The townsmen left their shops to view The royal star in transitu. 51 Hodge left his team without a guide. And, gaping, thro’ the hedge-gap pry’d ; Her mop, half-trundled, Betty stay’d. To gaze upon the gay parade. 5 £ Each country mayor cast off his shyness, And hobbled out to meet his H — , In worn out wig and rusty gown. To pay due rev’rence to the crown. 53 In humblest guise their worships strove To paint their loyalty and love. Bow’d to the ground their foreheads bare. To give a finish to their pray’r. 16 54 And when the carriage stopp’d a minute. Good Lard, to see the wonders in it. How rush’d the mob, brimful of glee. To get a stare at royalty. 55 But royalty, shame-fac’d, I ween, Chose very little to be seen. Or fear’d lest some (perhaps with reason) Might feel a hankering after treason. 56 Not that his H< : , as Heaven knows ♦ Has added to the people’s woes. But, like a good and tender father. Has labour’d to abridge them, rather. 57 But to proceed — when mobs and mayors Had paid their rev'rence and their pray'rs And all the prying race of Bull Had staid and yawn’d their bellies full, 58 His H-. - tir’d of bows and cheers, Anxious to rest his eyes and ears. Stopp’d at a mansion on his way. And made a kind ephemeral stay. 17 59 Then breaking out, with gentle force To Belvoir Castle steer’d his course. Anxious to broach the Rutland wine. And gratify the castle swine. 60 With thundering tones which shook the coach. The cannon bellow’d his approach. Warn’d by the hoarse artillery’s tongue, On massy hinge the portals swung. 61 The drawbridge stretch’d its length’ning chain j The tenant tribe and R — ■ d’s train With mean obsequious homage prest, To welcome in the royal guest. 62 The R trembled to survey The gloomy awe which mark’d the way, While mem’ry render’d him less bold By calling up some tale of old. 63 “ D — n’d dark!” says Mac. A deep drawn sigh Was all his H— could reply : <« D -d dull !” says Mac, a second time — « Fitted for every sort of crime,” 18 64 Long strove the puny stuttering note Before it left the royal throat, And whisper’d in its listner’s ear, “ Strange things, they say, have happen’d here!” 65 “ Yes, sir,” said Mac ; “ the London Taverns, “ I should prefer to yon d d caverns, “ For there they say, on murder’d sinners “ The worms have made some hearty dinners.” 66 The palsied P , with terror mute. Shook like a leaf from head to foot ; And some have said, amidst his fear. He d d the castle and its heir. 67 And some have said, his H ss swore He’d venture near such caves no more, But if kind heaven would spare his life, Would take again his slander’d wife. 68 Vows of reform, 'tis very true. Rise swift when danger is in view, And, spite of all the gorgeous train, Terror had seiz’d the royal brain. 19 96 But seated at the festive board, With every delicacy stor’d, His H — s soon his fears forgot. Or drown’d them in the wine, I wot. 70 Such homage all around him flow’d. He might have dreamt himself a god. And thought the first of man’s employments It was to further his enjoyments. 71 “ And please your H -s,” said his Grace, Who was the master of the place, c< As you stand sponsor to my son, ff I give the week to feast and fun. 72 “ Such stingo will I tap to morrow, “ That one half pint shall cure all sorrow ; “ And the next age shall hear the tale “ Of this glad day, and Belvoir ale. 73 “ And then, great sir, to shew my care “ To give your household better fare, “ The castle cistern, so immense, “ I’ve fill'd with punch, and d a expence. 20 74 c ‘ Yes, sir, so please your H — — ss, now, « To hear and sanction this my vow, “ I swear that not one sober wight “ Shall leave these gates tomorrow night. 75 “Is wear the country ten miles round “ In ale and spirits shall be drown’d ; “ Thus my dear infant well we’ll leav’n, “ And make the brat a heir of heav’n.” 76 Applauses loud, applauses long, Spontaneous burst from ev’ry tongue, Such rhetoric gain’d on ev’ry ear, And won the universal cheer. 77 Up rose his Grace again, and Cried, “ Charge, gentlemen, on ev’ry side I” The sparkling goblets, arm’d* with wine. Inspir’d an energy divine. 78 His Grace resum’d — u This be the toast, “ The P e. Great Britain’s proudest boast! “ Long may he live, long may he guide u Power’s helm, and honour’s glitt’ring tide !'* 2t 79 Scarce were the ravag’d goblets dry, 'Ere peals of thunder shook the sky. The echoing vaults with terror shiver’d, The castle to its basis quiver’d# 80 Well pleas’d, theP jump’d from his chair, And thank’d his landlord for his care j For flattery to his ear \vas sweet. As to the glutton store of meat. 81 “ I pledge your Grace !” his H— — ss criedj Quick pass’d the word from side to side $ Next came the Duchess, then the son. And midnight found the toasts half done. 8 £ The morning star’s congenial ray Had half unclos’d the gates of day, ’Ere muddled Jupiter, half shed, Could stammer out, “ Take me to bed !” 83 While yet the P his pillow prest, And woo’d in vain the smile of rest. Each menial boy and rustic loon Made ready for the festive noon. D 22 84 At length the P— e cut short his doze* Rang for his valet and arose. Seiz’d his unrelish’d meal, and went T’ unlock the stores of merriment. 85 And first his grace's boasted ale The tapster’s strenuous arts assail ; The barrel broach’d, the well-bred man To royal lips first gave the can. 86 Prompt to oblige, the royal guest Kindly the potent beverage blest; His goodness fill’d each breast with glee. And each eye beam’d hilarity. 87 The startled flocks forsook the lawn. And wondering gaz’d th’ affrighted fawn. As scatter’d music urg’d thre throng To mix in merry dance and song. 88 When ev’ning shadows veil’d the seen®, The happy rustics left the green ; Homeward the dames and damsels went. To sport in social merriment. 23 89 The peasants throMhe casfle-gate Stagger’d in rude unpolish’d State, Where torches lent a dazzling ray^ v Which sham’d the meagre blaze of day, 90 The caverns now, disrob’d of gloom, A face of gaiety assume ; The walls, which oft gave horror birth, Now echo’d to the voice of mirth. 91 Meanwhile, the P — — , at table seated. With nobler luxuries was greeted ; The realms of fish, and fowl, and beast, Were ravaged for the royal feast. 92 The richest and the rarest wines That spring from Europe’s choicest vines. For years in bins and bottles stor’d, Were called to ornament the board; 93 And none,, lukewarm at Bacchus* shrine. Refus’d due homage to the wine ; None, by poor puling temperance pipch’d A moment from the bottle flinch’d. 24 94 The prelate; Warm in Heaven’s dread cause. Who snatch’d the babe from Satan’s claws. Forgot the scripture exhortations. And now indulg’d in large libations. 95 The R •, with a solemn phiz. The mellow primate strove to quiz. And swore ’twas nothing more than right, His Grace should preach the christ’ning night*. 96 In vain the pos’d A p look’d Half angry, and his P- — rebuk’d j The more he begg’d, so much the more He would be pleas’d, his H — swore, 97 « ’Tis a great sin !” th’ A — *p cried. And then with pious fervor sigh’d — Poh,” says the R t, — “ sin, your grace, w Attaches not to men in place : — 98 “ I want a sermon, and, by G— d. I’ll have one, or you go to quod ; w I’ll have a new A- ■■ p, d — me, M And ask not ministers nor mammy.” 25 99 The argument was orthodox. And shut the B in a box; Thrice he attempted an excuse. But found his efforts void of use. 100 The holy man so venerable. Was quickly hoisted on the table, To spout most gravely things divine. And treat with pearls the circling swine, 101 <( Brethren,” said he, and then a hiccup j “ Now what the devil means this kick-up ? (s Why not devote to sin this one day, " And leave religion off till Sunday. 102 “ But if I must preach, then I will !” And here the prelate stood stock still ; And to compel his thoughts to flow. Swallow’d three bumpers of noyeau. 103 The potent liquor pierc’d the brain. And set his tongue to work again ; “ What shall I preach ? I’ll preach,” says he, “ A lecture ou morality.” 26 104 u Tis d — -d immoral, ’pon my soul, 0 And here his eyes began to roll— “ Morality I do adore,” And down his Grace dropp’d on the floor. 105 Loud cheers which burst from one and all. Announc’d the luckless prelate’s fall, While titter’d all the guests to see H is Grace’s apt humility. 106 Was it the wine* or accident*- By Heav’n to stop the serrhon sent. That caus’d the prelate’s slip that d^y, The bard doth not presume to say. 107 But was it so, or was it not, The glass no check sustain’d, I wot ; Brisk and more brisk it travell’d round, ’Till all its vot’ries bit the ground. 108 And vaults and passages along Were scatter’d With the drunken throng ; And not a page remain’d, ’tis said, To put the helpless P to bed. 27 109 Still, when the busy day peep’d out. And pull’d old Morpheus by the snout. Thro’ ev’ry vault the slumb’rers lay. And chok ; d each subterraneous way, 110 The morta. fragments, scatter’d round, Encompass’d every inch of ground. While Jove, half staggering, reel’d to sec The relics of humanity. 111 Three days the P at Belvoir tarried. And every night to bed was carried ; On the fourth moon the sun departed. And left his friends half broken-hearted. 112 But first to Belvoir’s Lord he cried. While stood the carriage by his side — “ Yon turret mark, and from this hour, * Let it be call'd the R t’s tow'r. 113 “ My thanks, good R-* — — d, let me tell, ft In truth, you entertain’d us well. I love the man ; I love the cheer : «■ This epoch of my life is dear.’' 114 11 d return'd the royal squeeze. And motion’d as to bend his knees ' But Jove prevented him, and said. No, R — ‘■—HD, make a bow instead \' 9 11 5 His Grace, with mighty care and toil. Bow’d till his forehead touch’d the soil ; The P , with equal skill and pain. Return’d his Grace’s bow again. 11 6 Then in his carriage seat jump’d Jove % Away the royal drivers drove ; No fog obscur’d the face of day. No hateful mire block’d up the way. 117 But what new friend, and what new scene His H visited, I ween. Must form the subject of a lay To occupy a future day. 118 fwift thro’ the turnpike-roads he flew. And visited the De’el knows who. Then, wearied, swore no more to roam, And turn'd his horses’ heads tow’rds home. 29 119 But much his H ss was provok’d To find the town in vapour choak’d. And much he trembled lest, perhaps. For him might lurk some new mishaps. 120 And oft when clods of earth and stones Rudely annoy’d the royal bones, The P would loudly scream, or croak— " Zounds, d — „n me, Mac, our necks are broke !” 121 But fortune had more kindly manag’d, That royalty should not be damag’d. She therefore brought him safe to town. And at his own door set him down, 122 No grateful mobs, with homage sweet. Trotted his carriage through the street j No crowds with kindness to distress him. Cried, as he rode along — “ God bless him ! ” 1 23 No beauty watch’d for his approach. To strew its garlands on his coach. But dark and silent was his track, Nor light, aor welcome hail’d him back. E 30 124 Save the forc’d splendors of the dome, The royal traveller’s ample home; Except the smiles that always shone About the neighbourhood of a throne. 125 For always pomp and power retain The vassal world to swell their train. And wealth attends the great man’s door. To gild his blackest vices o’er. 1 26 And who will say that kingly pow’r Shall want the suffrage of the hour — Of scanty homage shall complain, Or ask the worldling’s smile in vain ? 127 Who are with honest boldness blest, Shall plume the monarch’s towering crest, A thousand parasites, forsooth. Shall lick the wholesome wounds of truth. 128 Expos’d to fog and filth no more. The P and Mac review’d their tour; And ’ere they sat them down to gamble Again rov’d thro’ their fortnight’s ramble. 31 129 “ Here’s— may all ills as quickly pass !” Cry’d Mac, and brimm’d the thirsty glass— “ Good,” said the P , “ give me a sample 1” Then follow’d Mac’s divine example. 130 “ But,” said his H— , “d — n me, Mac,