The many-color'd Gentry there above,

By turns are rul'd by Tumult, and by Love:
And while their Sweet-hearts their Attention fix,
Sufpend the Din of their damn'd clatt'ring Sticks.
Now Sirs-

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 Mufe did LAURA'S Wit rehearse,
And COWLEY flatter'd dear ORINDA'S Verfe;
She hopes from You-Pox take her Hopes and Fears;
I plead her Sexe's Claim: what matters Hers?
By Our full Pow'r of Beauty We think fit,
To damn this Salique Law impos'd on Wit:
We'll try the Empire You fo long have boafted;
And if We are not Prais'd, We'll not be Toafted.
Approve what One of us prefents to Night;

Or ev'ry Mortal Woman here fhall write: or
Rural, Pathetic, Narrative, Sublime,

We'll write to You, and make You write in Rhime:
Female Remarks fhall take up all Your Time.
Your Time, poor Souls! we'll take your very Money;
Female Third Days fhall come fo thick upon Ye.
As long as We have Eyes, or Hands, or Breath,
We'll Look, or Write, or Talk You All to Death.
Unless Ye yield for Better and for Worfeld
Then the She-PEGASUS fhall gain the Courfe;
And the Grey Mare will prove the better Horse.

HO has e'er been at PARIS, muft needs know the Greve,

The fatal Retreat of th' unfortunate Brave;

Where Honor and Justice moft odly contribute,
To ease Hero's Pains by a Halter and Gibbet.
Derry down, down, bey derry down.

[on;

put

There Death breaks the Shackles, which Force had And the Hangman compleats, what the Judge but begun : There the 'Squire of the Pad, and the Knight of the Poft, Find their Pains no more balk'd, and their Hopes no Derry down, &c. [more croft.

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 duce doft Thou ayl? Cut off thy Reflections; and give Us thy Tale.

Derry down, &c.

'Twas

'Twas there, then, in civil Respect to harfh Laws, And for want of falfe Witness, to back a bad Caufe, A NORMAN, tho' late, was oblig'd to appeat:

And Who to affift, but a grave CORDELIER?
Derry down, &c.

The 'Squire, whofe good Grace was to open the Scene, Seem'd not in great Hafte, that the Show fhou'd begin: Now fitted the Halter, now travers'd the Cart; And often took Leave; but was loath to Depart. Derry down, &c.

What frightens You thus, my good Son fays the Priest: You Murther'd, are Sorry, and have been Confeft. O Father! My Sorrow will fcarce fave my Bacon: For 'twas not that I Murther'd, but that I was Taken. Derry down, &c.

Pough! pr'ythee ne'er trouble thy Head with fuch Fancies: Rely on the Aid You fhall have from Saint FRANCIS: If the Money You promis'd be brought to the Cheft; You have only to Dye: let the Church do the rest. Derry down, &c.

And what will Folks fay, if they fee 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.

To

To-morrow? our Hero reply'd 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 trufs'd up: For You furely To-night fhall in PARADISE Sup. Derry down, &c.

Alas! quoth the 'Squire, howe'er fumptuous the Treat, Parblew, I fhall have little Stomach to Eat:

I should therefore esteem it great Favor, and Grace;
Wou'd You be fo kind, as to go in my Place.

Derry down, &c.

[boot;

That I wou'd, quoth the Father, and thank you to 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 faid; Dispatch me, I pr'ythee, this troublesome Blade: For Thy Cord, and My Cord both equally tie; And We Live by the Gold, for which other Men Dye. Derry down, &c.

An

INT

EPITAPH

Stet quicunque volet potens
Aule culmine lubrico, &c.

Senec.

NTERR'D beneath this Marble Stone,
Lie Saunt'ring JACK, and Idle JOAN.
While rolling Threescore Years and One
Did round this Globe their Courfes run;
If Human Things went Ill or Well;
If changing Empires rofe or fell;
The Morning paft, the Evening came,
And found this Couple ftill the fame.
They Walk'd and Eat, good Folks: What then?
Why then They Walk'd and Eat again:
They foundly flept the Night away :
They did juft Nothing all the Day:
And haying bury'd Children Four,
Wou'd not take Pains to try for more.
Nor Sifter either had, nor Brother:
They feem'd juft Tally'd for each other.

Their Moral and Oeconomy
Moft perfectly They made agree:
Each Virtue kept it's proper Bound,
Nor Trespass'd on the other's Ground.
Nor Fame, nor Cenfure They regarded:
They neither Punifh'd, nor Rewarded.

Ccc c