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Though they could all do something more than sing.
But one exception to this fact we find;
That booby Phaon only was unkind,

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An ill-bred boat-man, rough as waves and wind.
From Sappho down through all succeeding ages,
And now on French, or on Italian stages,
Rough satires, sly remarks, ill natur'd speeches,
Are always aim'd at poets that wear breeches.
Arm'd with Longinus, or with Rapin, no man
Drew a sharp pen upon a naked woman.
The blustering bully, in our neighbouring streets,
Scorns to attack the female that he meets:
Fearless the petticoat contemns his frowns:
The hoop secures whatever it surrounds.
The many-colour'd gentry there above,
By turns are rul'd by tumult, and by love:
And while their sweet-hearts their attention fix,
Suspend the din of their damn'd clattering sticks.
Now, Sirs-

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To you our author makes her soft request,
Who speak the kindest, and who write the best,
Your sympathetic hearts she hopes to move,
From tender friendship, and endearing love.
If Petrarch's Muse did Laura's wit rehearse;
And Cowley flatter'd dear Orinda's verse;
She hopes from you-Pox take her hopes and fears:
I plead her sex's claim; what matters hers?
By our full power of beauty we think fit
To damn this salique law impos'd on wit:
We'll try the empire you so long have boasted;
And if we are not prais'd, we'll not be toasted.
Approve what one of us presents to-night;

Or

every mortal woman here shall write:

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Rural, pathetic, narrative, sublime,

We'll write to you, and make you write in rhyme;
Female remarks shall take up all your time.

Your time, poor souls! we'll take your very money;
Female third days shall come so quick upon ye.
As long as we have eyes, or hands, or breath,
We'll look, or write, or talk you all to death.
Unless you yield for better and for worse:
Then the she-pegasus shall gain the course;
And the gray mare will prove the better horse. 50

THE THIEF AND THE CORDELIER,

A BALLAD. TO THE TUNE OF KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY.

HO has e'er been at Paris must needs know the Greve,

The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate

brave:

Where honour and justice most oddly contribute, To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet, Derry down, down, hey derry down.

There death breaks the shackles which force had

put on;

And the hangman completes what the judge but begun ;

There the squire of the pad, and the knight of the

post,

Find their pains no more balk'd, and their hopes no more cross'd.

Derry down, &c. 10

Great claims are there made, and great secrets are

known;

And the king, and the law, and the thief has his own;

But

my hearers cry out; What a deuce dost thou

ail?

Cut off thy reflections, and give us thy tale.

Derry down, &c.

"Twas there then, in civil respect to harsh laws, And for want of false witness, to back a bad cause, A Norman, though late, was obliged to appear; And who to assist, but a grave Cordelier?

Derry down, &c. 20

The squire, whose good grace was to open the

scene,

Seem'd not in great haste, that the show should

begin :

Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart;
And often took leave: but was loth to depart.

Derry down, &c.

What frightens you thus, my good son? says the priest:

You murder'd, are sorry, and have been confess'd. O father! my sorrow will scarce save my bacon : For 'twas not that I murder'd, but that I was taken. Derry down, &c. 30

Pugh! prithee ne'er trouble thy head with such fancies:

Rely on the aid you shall have from Saint Francis ; If the money you promis'd be brought to the chest, You have only to die: let the church do the rest. Derry down, &c.

And what will folks say, if they see you afraid?
It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade:
Courage, friend; to-day is your period of sorrow;
And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow.
Derry down, &c. 40

To-morrow? our hero replied in a fright:

He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of to-night.

Tell your beads, quoth the priest, and be fairly truss'd up,

For you surely to-night shall in Paradise sup.

Derry down, &c.

Alas! quoth the squire, howe'er sumptuous the treat, Parbleu, I shall have little stomach to eat:

I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace, Would you be so kind, as to go in my place.

Derry down, &c. 50

That I would, quoth the father, and thank you to

boot;

But our actions, you know, with our duty must suit
The feast, I propos'd to you, I cannot taste;
For this night, by our order, is mark'd for a fast.

Derry down, &c.

Then turning about to the hangman, he said:
Dispatch me, I prithee, this troublesome blade:
For thy cord, and my cord both equally tie;
And we live by the gold for which other men die.
Derry down, &c. 60

AN EPITAPH.

Stet quicunque volet potens

Aulæ culmine lubrico, &c.

SENECA.

NTERR'D beneath this marble stone
Lie sauntering Jack and idle Joan.
While rolling threescore years and one
Did round this globe their courses run;
If human things went ill or well;
If changing empires rose or fell;
The morning past, the evening came,
And found this couple still the same.
They walk'd and eat, good folks: what then?
Why then they walk'd and eat again :
They soundly slept the night away;
They did just nothing all the day;
And having buried children four,
Would not take pains to try for more:
Nor sister either had, nor brother;
They seem'd just tallied for each other.
Their moral and economy

Most perfectly they made agree:

VOL. I.

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