Quoth Matthew, I know, that, from Berwick to

Dover,

You 've fold all our premiffes over and over:
And now, if your buyers and fellers agree,
You may throw all our acres into the South Sea,

But a word to the purpose: to-morrow, dear

friend,

We'll fee, what to night you fo highly commend;
And, if with a garden and house I am bleft,
Let the Devil and Coningsby go with the rest.

Then anfwer'd 'Squire Morley; Pray get a calash, That in fummer may burn, and in winter may splash;

I love dirt and duft; and 'tis always my pleasure, To take with me much of the foil that I measure.

But Matthew thought better: for Matthew thought right,

And hired a chariot fo trim and fo tight,

That extremes both of winter and summer might pafs:

For one window was canvass, the other was glass.

Lord Coningsby was one of the members of the committee of the Privy Council, who examined Mr. Prior at the acceffion of George I. From the account given by Mr. Prior of what then paffed, he appears to have been very ungenteely and roughly treated by that nobleman.

Draw

Draw up, quoth friend Matthew; pull down,

quoth friend John,

We shall be both hotter and colder anon.

Thus, talking and fcolding, they forward did

speed;

And Ralpho pac'd by, under Newman the Swede.

Into an old inn did this equipage roll,

At a town they call Hodfon, the fign of the Bull, Near a Nymph with an urn, that divides the high way,

And into a puddle throws Mother of Tea.

Come here, my fweet Landlady, pray how d'ye

do?

Where is Cicily fo cleanly, and Prudence, and Sue? And where is the Widow that dwelt here below? And the Hoftler that fung about eight years ago?

And where is your Sifter, fo mild and fo dear? Whofe voice to her Maids like a trumpet was clear, By my troth! fhe replies, you grow younger, I think :

And pray, Sir, what wine does the gentleman drink?

Why now let me die, Sir, or live upon trust, If I know to which queftion to answer you first :

Why

Why things, fince I faw you, moft frangely have vary'd,

The Hoftler is hang'd, and the Widow is marry'd.

And Prue left a child for the parish to nurfe?
And Cicily went off with a gentleman's purse;
And as to my fifter, fo mild and so dear,
She has lain in the church-yard full many a year.

Well, peace to her afhes! what fignifies grief?
She roasted red veal, and fhe powder'd lean beef:
Full nicely fhe knew to cook up a fine dish;
For tough were her Pullets, and tender her Fish.

For that matter, Sir, be you 'Squire, Knight, or
Lord,

I'll give you whate'er a good inn can afford:
I should look on myfelf as unhappily fped,
Did I yield to a sister, or living, or dead.

Of Mutton a delicate neck and a breaft

Shall swim in the water in which they were dreft:
And, because you great folks are with rarities

taken,

Addle-eggs fhall be next courfe, toft up with rank

Bacon.

Then fupper was ferv'd, and the fheets they

were laid;

And Morley most lovingly whifper'd the Maid.

The

The Maid! was fhe handfome? why truly fo-fo.
But what Morley whisper'd we never fhall know.

Then up rofe thefe Heroes as brifk as the fun, And their horfes, like his, were prepared to run. Now when in the morning Matt afk'd for the score, John kindly had paid it the evening before.

Their breakfast fo warm to be fure they did eat, A cuftom in travellers mighty difcreet;

And thus with great friendship and glee they went

on,

To find out the place you fhall hear of anon,

Call'd Down, down, hey derry down.

But what did they talk of from morning till

noon?.

Why, of spots in the fun, and the man in the

moon;

Of the Czar's gentle temper, the stocks in the city, The wife men of Greece, and the Secret Committee.

So to Harlow they came; and, hey! where are you all?

Shew us into the parlour, and mind when I call: Why, your Maids have no motion, your Men have

no life;

Well, Mafter, I hear you have bury'd your wife.

Come

Come this very inftant, take care to provide Tea, Sugar, and Toast, and a Horfe and a Guide. Are the Harrisons here, both the old and the

young?

And where ftands fair Down, the delight of my fong?

O 'Squire, to the grief of my heart I may say, I have bury'd two wives fince you travel'd this way; And the Harrifons both may be presently here; And Down ftands, I think, where it ftood the last year.

Then Joan brought the Tea-pot, and Caleb the

Toast;

And the wine was froth'd out by the hand of mine

hoft:

But we clear'd our extempore banquet so fast, That the Harrisons both were forgot in the hafte.

Now hey for Down-Hall! for the guide he was

got;

The chariot was mounted; the horses did trot; The guide he did bring us a dozen miles round; But oh! all in vain: for no Down could be found.

O thou