Knaves, of old, to hide guilt by their cunning inventions,
Call'd briberies grants, and plain robberies pensions :
Physicians and lawyers (who take their degrees
To be learned rogues) call'd their pilfering fees.
Since this happy day
Rob (as safe as in office) upon the highway.
For Blueskin's sharp penknife hath set you at ease,
And ev'ry man round me may rob, if he please.
Some cheat in the customs, some rob the excise:
But he who robs both is esteemed most wise.
Churchwardens too prudent to hazard the halter,
As yet only venture to steal from the altar.
But now, to get gold,
They may be more bold,
And rob on the highway since Jonathan's cold:
For Blueskin's sharp penknife hath set you at ease,
And ev'ry man round me may rob, if he please.
Some by public revenues, which pass'd thro' their hands,
Have purchas'd clean houses and bought dirty lands: Some to steal from a charity think it no sin,
Which at home (says the proverb) does always begin,
But if ever you be
Assign'd a trustee,
Treat not orphans like masters of the Chancery;
But take the highway, and more honestly seize; For ev'ry man round me may rob, if he please.
What a pother has here been with Wood and his brass,
Who would modestly make a few halfpennies pass!
The patent is good, and the precedent's old,
For Diomede changed his copper for gold :
But, if Ireland despise
With more safety to rob on the road I advise :
For Blueskin's sharp penknife hath set you at ease,
And ev'ry man round me may rob, if he please.
WITH ev'ry lady in the land
Soft Strephon kept a pother;
One year he languish'd for one hand,
And next year for the other.
Yet, when his love the shepherd told
To Flavia fair and coy,
Reserv'd, demure, than snow more cold,
She scorn'd the gentle boy.
Late at a ball he own'd his pain.
She blush'd, and frown'd, and swore,
With all the marks of high disdain,
She'd never hear him more.
The swain persisted still to pray,
The nymph till to deny;
At last she vow'd she would not stay;
He swore she should not fly.
Enrag'd, she call'd her footmen straight,
And rush'd from out the room,
Drove to her lodging, lock'd the gate,
And lay with Ralph at home.
A TALE OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF THE DUKE REGENT OF FRANCE.
How vain are mortal man's endeavours!
(Said, at Dame Elleot's, Master Travers)
Good Orleans dead! in truth 'tis hard:
O! may all statesmen die prepar❜d!
I do foresee (and for foreseeing
He equals any man in being)
The army ne'er can be disbanded.
-I wish the king were safely landed.
Ah friends! great changes threat the land!
All France and England at a stand!
There's Meroweis-mark! strange work!
And there's the czar, and there's the Turk-
— an Indian merchant by
Cut short the speech with this reply:
*Coffeehouse, near St James's.-H.
All at a stand? you see great changes?
Ah, sir! you never saw the Ganges:
There dwells the nation of Quidnunckis
(So Monomotapa calls monkeys :)
On either bank, from bough to bough,
They meet and chat (as we may now);
Whispers go round, they grin, they shrug:
They bow, they snarl, they scratch, they hug;
And, just as chance or whim provoke thein,
They either bite their friends, or stroke them.
There have I seen some active prig,
To show his parts, bestride a twig;
Lord! how the chatt'ring tribe admire !
Not that he's wiser, but he's higher :
All long to try the vent'rous thing
(For pow'r is but to have one's swing.)
From side to side he springs, he spurns,
And bangs his foes and friends by turns.
Thus, as in giddy freaks he bounces,
Crack goes the twig, and in he flounces!
Down the swift stream the wretch is borne!
Never, ah never, to return!
Z-ds! what a fall had our dear brother!
"Morbleu!" cries one; and "damme," t'other.
The nation gives a gen'ral screech;
None cocks his tail, none claws his breech;
Each trembles for the public weal,
And for a while forgets to steal.
A while all eyes, intent and steady, Pursue him whirling down the eddy: But, out of mind when out of view, Some other mounts the twig anew And bus'ness, on each monkey shore, Runs the same track it ran before.
IN fable all things hold discourse;
Then words, no doubt, must talk of course.
Once on a time, near Channel-row, *
Two hostile adverbs, Ay and No,
Were hastening to the field of fight,
And front to front stood opposite.
Before each gen'ral join'd the van,
Ay, the more courteous knight, began.
Stop, peevish particle, beware!
I'm told you are not such a bear,
But sometimes yield, when offer'd fair.
Suffer yon folks a while to tattle;
'Tis we who must decide the battle.
Whene'er we war on yonder stage
With various fate and equal rage,
The nation trembles at each blow,
That No gives Ay, and Ay gives No:
Yet, in expensive, long contention,
We gain nor office, grant, or pension:
Why then should kinsfolk quarrel thus ?`
(For two of you make one of us. †)
To some wise statesman let us go,
Where each his proper use may know :
He may admit two such commanders,
And make those wait who serv'd in Flanders.
Let's quarter on a great man's tongue,
A treasury lord, not master Young.
* A dirty street, near the parliament-house, Westminster.-II. + In English, two negatives make an affirmative.-H.
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