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“ But Merope, we own, is fine, ODE TO GARRICK,
Eumenes charms in every line;
How prettily he vapours!
So gay his dress, so young his look, When I said I would die a batchelor, I did not one would have sworn 'twas Mr. Cook, think I should live till I were married.
Or Mathews, cutting capers.”
Thus, David, will the ladies font,
And councils hold at every rout, There! don't you see her ? -_" See her! Who?"
To alter all your plays: Nay, hang me if I tell.
Yates shall be Benedick next year, There's Garrick in the music-box!
Macklin be Richard, Taswell Lear, Watch but his eyes; see there
-“ O pox!
And Kitty Clive be Bayes. “Your servant, ma'moiselle !”
Two parts they readily allow Bat tell me, David, is it true?
Are yours; but not one more, they vow; Lord help us! what will some folks do ?
And thus they close their spite: How will they curse this stranger!
You will be sir John Brute, they say, What! fairly taken in for life!
A very sir John Brute all day, A sober, serious, wedded wife!
And Fribble all the night. O fie upon you, Ranger!
But tell me, fair-ones, is it so ? The clergy too have join'd the chat;
" You all did love him once!,” we know; " A papist !- Has he thought of that?
What then provokes your gall? Or means he to convert her?”
Forbear to rail - I'll tell you why; Troth, boy, unless your zeal be stout,
Quarrels may come, or madam die, The nymph may turn your faith about,
And then there's hope for all. By arguments experter.
And now a word or two remains, The ladies, pale and out of breath,
Sweet Davy, and I close my strains: Wild as the witches in Macbeth,
Think well ere you engage; Ask if the “deed be done?”
Vapours and ague-fits may come, 0, David ! listen to my lay!
And matrimonial claims at home, I'll prophesy the things they 'll say;
Unnerve you for the stage. For tongues, you know, will run.
But if you find your spirits right, "And pray, what other news d’ye hear?
Your mind at ease, your body tight, Marry'd !-But don't you think, my dear,
Take her; you can't do hetter: He's growing out of fashion?
A pox upon the tattling town! People may fancy what they will,
The fops that join to cry her down But Quin 's the only actor still,
Would give their ears to get her. To touch the tender passion.
Then if her heart be good and kind, " Nay, madam, did you mind, last night, (And sure that face bespeaks a mind His Archer ? not a line on 't right!
As soft as woman's can be) I thought I heard some hisses.
You 'll grow as constant as a dove, Good God! if Billy Mills, thought I,
And taste the purer sweets of love, Or Billy Havard would but try,
Unvisited by Ranby?. They'd beat him all to pieces.
ENVY AND FORTUNE:
TO MRS. GARRICK
« 'Twas prudent though to drop his Bayes-
He hopes he 'll give up Richard.
Attempt to ravish Pritchard.
There's something there like nature:
But hurts no mortal creature.
Says Envy to Fortune, “Soft, soft, madam_Flirt!
" And then there 's Belmont, to be sureOho! my gentle Neddy Moore !
How does my good lord-mayor ? And have you left Cheapside, my dear? And will you write again next year,
'To show your fav'rite player?
I own that sometimes, in contempt of all rules, Mighty civil indeed !"_" Come, à truce,” says I lavish my favours on blockheads and fools;
my lady, But the case is quite different here, I aver it, “A truce with complaints, and perhaps I may aid ye. For David ne'er knew me, till brought me hy Merit. I'll show you a girl that—Here, Martin ! go tellAnd yet to convince you—pay, madam, no hisses- But she's gone to undress; by-and-by is as wellGood manners at least—such behaviour as this is—!"I'll show you a sight that you 'll fancy uncommon, (For mention but Merit, and Envy flies out Wit, beauty, and goodness, all met in a woman; With a hiss and a yell that would silence a rout. A heart to no fully or mischief inclin'd, But Fortune went on)_" To convince you, I say, A body all grace, and all sweetness a mind” That I honour your scheme., I 'll about it to day; “O, pray let me see her,” says Fortune, and ( The man shall be marry'd, so pray now be easy,
smilia, And Garrick for once shall do something to please “Do but give her to me, and I'll make her my ye.”
childSo saying, she rattled her wheel out of sight, But who, my dear, who?-for you have not told While Envy walk'd after, and grinn'd with delight.
yet”It seems 'twas a trick that she long had been “ W'ho indeed,” says my lady, “ if not Vilette " brewing,
The words were scarce spoke when she enter'd To marry poor David, and so be his ruin:
the room; For Slander had told her the creature lov'd pelf, A blush at the stranger still heighten'd her bloom; And car'd not a fig for a soul but himself;
So humble her looks were, so mild was ber air, From thence she was sure, had the Devil a daughter, That Fortune, astonish'd, sat mute in her chair. He'd snap at the girl, so 'twas Fortune that brought My lady rose up, and with countenance bland, her:
“This is Fortune, my dear," and presented her hand: And then should her temper be sullen or haughty, The goddess embrac'd her, and call'd her her own, Her flesh too be frail, and incline to be naughty, And, compliments over, her errand made known. 'Twould fret the poor fellow so ont of his reason, But how the sweet girl colour'd, flutter'd, and That Barry and Quin would set fashions next season. trembled,
But Fortune, who saw what the Fury design'd, How oft she said no, and how ill she dissembled; Resolv'd to get David a wife to his mind :
Or how little David rejoic'd at the news, Yet afraid of herself in a matter so nice,
And swore, from all others, 'twas her he would choose; She visited Prudence, and begg'd her advice. What'methods he try'd, and what arts to prevail; The nymph shook her head when the business she All these, were they told, would but burthen my knew,
taleAnd said that her female acquaintance were few ; In short, all affairs were so happily carry'd, That excepting miss R......-0, yes, there was one, That hardly six weeks pass’d away till they marry'd. A friend of that lady's, she visited none;
| But Envy grew sick when the story she heard, But the first was too great, and the last was too Violette was the girl that of all she most fear'd; good,
She knew her good-humour, her beauty and sweetAnd as for the rest, she might get whom she could.
Away hurried Fortune, perplex'd and half mad, Her ease and compliance, her taste and her neatness; But her promise was pass'd, and a wife must be had: From these she was sure that her man could not roam, She travers'd the town from one corner to t'other, And must rise on the stage, from contentment at Now knocking at one door and then at another.
home: The girls curtsy'd low as she look'd in their faces, So on she went hissing, and inwardly curst her, And bridled and primm'd with abundance of graces; And Garrick next season will certainly burst her. But this was coquettish, and that was a prude, One stupid and dull, t other noisy and rude; A third was affected, quite careless a fourth, With prate without meaning, and pride without
worth; A fifth, and a sixth, and a seventh were such RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY PELHAM, As either knew nothing or something too much
THE HUMBLE PETITION
OF THE WORST IPFUL COMPANY OF POETS AND tions,
NEWS-WRITERS, The prudent were ugly, the sensible dirty,
SHOWETH, And all of them flirts, from fifteen up to thirty.
When Fortune saw this she began to look silly, That your honour's petitioners (dealers in rhymes, Yet still she went on till she reach'd Piccadilly ; And writers of scandal for mending the times) But vex'd and fatigu'd, and the night growing late, By losses in business, and England's well-doing, She rested her wheel within Burlington gate. Are sunk in their credit, and verging on ruin. My lady rose up, as she saw her come in,
That these their misfortunes, they humbly con1“Oho, madam Genius! pray where have you been?" ceive, (For her ladyship thought, from so serious an air, Arise not from dulness, as some folks believe, 'Twas Genius come home, for it seems she liv'd there.) But from rubs in their way which your honour has But Fortune, not minding her ladyship's blunder,
Jaid, And wiping her forehead, cry'd, “ Well may you And want of materials to carry on trade. wonder
That they always had form'd high conceits of To see me thus flurry'd;"—then told her the case,
their use, And sigh'd till her ladyship laugh'd in her face. And meant their last breath should go out in abuse;
But now (and they speak it with sorrow and tears) However to make matters short,
The lady was discover'd soon,
In company at Mrs. P.'s;
And Fanny waiting on Miss Y.
How many kisses made a dozen ?
And, sense and reason in eclipse,
That rising up to keep his word,
Or else (if your wisdom shall deem it all one) But that he felt a sudden dizziness,
His eyes to stare, his mouth to water, To take to your bosom a few private vices, His breast to thump without cessation, Ev which your petitioners baply might thrive, And all within one conflagration. And keep both themselves and Contention alive. “ Bless me!” says Fanny, “what 's the matter ?” In compassion, good sir, give them something to And lady Mary look'd bard at her, say,
And stamp'd, and wish'd the pris’ner further,
That still he held the pris'ter fast,
A sort of sudden twinge, he said,
And after that such cruel smarting,
He thought the soul and body parting. Tuz prisoner was at large indicted,
That then he let the pris'ner go, For that by thirst of gain excited,
And stagger'd off a step or so; One day in July last, at tea,
And thinking that his heart was ill, And in the house of Mrs. P.
He begg'd of miss Y.'s maid to feel. From the left breast of E. M. gent.
That Fanny stept before the rest, With base felonious intent,
And laid ber hand upon his breast; Did then and there a beart with strings,
But, mercy on us! what a stare Rest, quiet, peace, and other things,
The creature gave! No heart was there; Steal, rob, and plunder; and all them
Souse went her fingers in the hole, The chattels of the said E. M.
Whence heart, and strings, and all were stole. The prosecutor swore, last May
That Fanny turn'd, and told the prisoner, (The month he knew, but not the day)
She was a thief, and so she 'd christen her: He left his friends in town, and went
And that it was a burning shame, l'pon a visit down in Kent :
And brought the house an evil name; That staying there a month or two,
And if she did not put the heart in, He spent his time as others do,
The man would pine and
die for certain. In riding, walking, fishing, swimming;
The pris'ner then was in her airs, Bat being much inclin’d to women,
And bid her mind her own affairs; And young and wild, and no great reasoner, And told his reverence, and the rest of 'em, He got acquainted with the prisoner.
She was as honest as the best of 'em. He own'd, 'twas rumour'd in those parts
That lady Mary and dean L. That she'd a trick of stealing hearts,
Rose up and said, “ 'Twas mighty well,” And from fifteen to twenty-two,
But that, in general terms they said it, Had made the devil and all to do:
A heart was gone, and some one had it: But Mr. W. the vicar,
Words would not do, for search they must, (And no man brews you better liquor)
And search they wouli, and her the first. Spoke of her thefts as tricks of youth,
That then the pris'ner dropp'd her anger, The frolics of a girl forsooth:
And said, she hop'd they would not hang her; Things now were on another score,
That all she did was meant in jest, He said; for she was twenty-four.
And there the heart was, and the rest.
That then the dean cry'd out, “O fie!"
He therefore begg'd her to accept it, And sent in haste for justice I.
And hop'd 'twould mend if once she kept it. Who, though he knew her friends and pity'd her, That having no aversion to it, Call'd her hard names, and so committed her. She said, with all her soul, she'd do it; The parties present swore the same;
But then she begg'd him to remember, And Panny said, the pris'ner's name
If he should need it in December, Had frighten'd all the country round;
(for winter months would make folks shiver, And glad she was the bill was found.
Who wanted either heart or liver) She knew a man, who knew another,
It never could return; and added, Who knew the very party's brother,
"T'was her's for life, if once she had it. Who lost his heart by mere surprise,
The prosecutor said, Amen, One morning looking at her eyes ;
And that he wish'd it not again; And others had been known to squeak,
And took it from his breast and gave her, Who only chanc'd to hear her speak:
And bow'd, and thank'd her for the favour ; For she had words of such a sort,
But begg'd the thing might not be spoke of, That though she knew no r(ason for it,
As heartless men were made a joke of. Would make a man of sense run mad,
That next day, whisp'ring him about it, And rifle him of all he had;
And asking how he felt without it, And that she 'd rob the whole community, He sigh'd, and cry'd, Alack! alack! If ever she had opportunity.
And begg'd, and pray'd to have it back; The pris'ner now first silence broke,
Or that she'd give him her's instead on 't: And curtsy'd round her as she spoke.
But she conceiv'd tliere was no need on t; She own'd, she said, it much incens d her,
And said, and bid him make no pother, 1 To hear such matters sworn against her,
He should have neither one nor t' other. But that she hop'd to keep her temper,
That then he rav'd and storm'd like fury, And prove herself eadem semper.
And said, that one was his de jure, That what the prosecutor swore
And rather than he 'd leave pursuing her, Was some part true, and some part more:
He'd swear a robbery, and ruin her.
That this was truth she did aver,
Only that Mrs. P. she said,
Miss Y. and her deluded maid, Pretending that he lov'd her vastly,
And ladly Mary, and his reverence, And that all women else look'd ghastly.
Were folks to whom she paid some deference; But then she bop'd the court would think
And that she verily belierd She never was inclin'd to drink,
They were not perjur'd, but deceiv'd. Or suffer hands like his to daub her, or
Then doctor D. Legg'd leave to speak, Encourage men to kiss and slobber her;
And sigh'd as if his heart would break. She'd have folks know she did not love it,
He said, that he was-madam's surgeon Or if she did, she was above it.
Or rather, as in Greek, chirurgeon, But this, she said, was sworn of course,
From cheir, manus, ergon, opus, To prove her giddy, and then worse;
(As scope is from the Latin scopus.) As she whose conduct was thought lævis,
That he, he said, had known the prisoner Might very well be reckon'd thievish.
From the first sun that ever rose on her ; She hop'd, she said, the court's discerning
And griev'd he was to see her there ; Would pay some honour to her learning,
But took upon himself to swear, For every day from four to past six,
There was not to be found in nature She went up stairs, and read the classics.
A sweeter or a better creature; Thus having clear'd herself of levity,
And if the king (God bless him) knew her, The rest, she said, would come with brevity. He 'd leave St. James's to get to her : And first, it injur'd not her honour
But then, as to the fact in question, To own the heart was found upon her;
He knew no more on 't than Hephæstion; For she could prove, and did aver,
It might be false, and might be true; Thé paltry thing belong'd to her:
And this, he said, was all he knew, The fact was thus. This prince of knaves
The judge proceeded to the charge, Was once the humblest of her slaves,
And gave the evidence at large, And often had confess'd the dart
But often cast a sheep's eye at her, Her eyes had lodg'd within his heart :
And strove to mitigate the matter, That she, as 'twas her constant fashion,
Pretending facts were not so clear, Made great diversion of his passion;
And mercy ought to interfere. Which set his blood in such a ferment,
The jury then withdrew a moment, As seem'd to threaten his interment :
As if on weighty points to comment; That then she was afraid of losing him,
And, right or wrong, resolv'd to save her, And so desisted from abusing him ;
They gave a verdict in her favour. And often came and felt his pulse,
But why or wherefore things were so, And bid him write to doctor Hulse.
It matters not for us to know : The prosecutor thank'd her kindly,
The culprit by escape grown bold, And sigh'd, and said she look'd divinely ;
Pilfers alike from young and old, But told her that his heart was bursting,
The country all around her teazes, And doctors he had little trust in ;
And robs or murders whom she pleases.'
With friendly hand I hold the glass
To all, promiscuous as they pass ;
If the fantastic form offend,
I made it not, but would amend.
Virtue, in every elime and age, when I found myself in humour, and disengaged Spurns at the folly-southing pare, from matters of greater moment.
Wbile satire, that offends the ear
As they are the writings of an idle hour, so they are intended for of Vice and Passion, pleases her.
Premisiog this, your anger spare, the reading of those, whose only business is amusement. My hopes of profit, or applause, are not
And claim the fable you who dare. imnoderate; nor have I printed through necessity,
Tae birds in place, by factions press'd, or request of friends. I have leave from her royal highness to address her, and I claim the fair for To Jupiter their pray'rs address'd;
By specious lies the state was vex'd, my readers. My fears are lighter than my expectations; I wrote to please myself, and I pub- | Their counsels libellers perplex’d; lish to please others; and this so universally, that They bereid (to stop seditious tongues) I have not wished for correctness to rob the critic Jove grants their suit. The Eagle sate,
A gracious hearing of their wrongs. of his cenzure, or my friend of the laugh.
Decider of the grand debate. My intimates are few, and I am not solicitous to increase them.
The Pye, to trust and pow'r preferr'd, I hare learnt, that where the writer would please, the man should be unknown.
Demands permission to be heard. An author is the reverse of all other objects, and Says he, " Prolixity of phrase magnifies by distance, but diminishes by approach. You know I hate. This libel says, His private attachments must give place to public are hird to silence Wisdom's voice,
• Sume birds there are, who, prone to noise, façour; for no man can forgive his friend the illnatured attempt of being thought wiser than him
And skill'd to chatter out the hour, self.
Rise by their emptiness to pow'r.' To avoid therefore the misfortunes that may at
That this is aim'd direct at me, tend me from any accidental success, I think it No doubt, you 'll readily agree;
Yet well this sage assembly knows, necessary to inforın those who know me, that I have been assisted in the following papers by the By parts to government I rose; author of Gustavus Vasa'. Let the crime of My prudent counsels prop the state ; pleasing be his, whose talents as a writer, and Magpies were never known to prate." whose virtues as a man, have rendered him a living In virtue's sufferings bore a part.
The Kite rose up.
“ His honest heart afirvat to the whole circle of his acquaintance.
That there were birds of prey he knew;
Voracious, bold, to rapine prone,
Who knew no intrest but their own;
Nor pigeon, chick, nor duckling spar'd.'
This might be true, but if apply'd Tae moral lay, to beanty due,
To him, in troth, the sland'rer ly’d.
Since ign'rance then might be misled, i write, tair excellence, to you ;
Such things, he thought, were best unsaid." Well pleas'd to hope my vacant hours
The Crow was vex'd. As yester-morn Have been employ'd to sweeten yours.
He flew across the new-sown corn, Truth under fiction I impart,
A screaming boy was set for pay, To Feed out folly from the heart;
He knew, to drive the crows away ; And show the paths that lead astray
Scandal had found out him in turn, The wand'ring nymph from Wisdorn's way. And buzz'd abroad, that crows love corns (Hatter none. The great and good
The Owl arose, with solemn face, Are by their actions understood ;
And thus harangu'd upon the case. Your monument if actions raise,
“ That magpies prate, it may be true, Shall I deface by idle praise ?
A kite may be voracious too, I scho not the voice of Fame,
Crows sometimes deal in new-so in pease ; That dreils delighted on your name;
He libels not, who strikes at these; Her friendly tale, however true,
The slander 's here— But there are birds, Were flatt'ry, if I told it you.
Whose wisdom lies in looks, not words; The proud, the envions, and the vain,
Blund'rers, who level in the dark, The jilt, the prude, demand my strain;
And always shoot beside the mark.' To these, detesting praise, I write,
He names not me; but these are hints, And sent, in charity, my spite.
Which manifests at whom he squints;
I were indeed that blund'ring fowl, Henry Brooke, esq. who wrote the fourteenth, To question if he meant an owl." fifteenth, and sixteenth fables, which are reserved “Ye wretches, hence!" the Eagle cries, for insertion in his works. с
“ 'Tis conscience, conscience that applies; VOL. XIV.
TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS OF WALES.