The bluftering bully in our neighbouring streets To you our author makes her foft request, Or every mortal woman here shall write : We'll write to you, and make you write in rhyme; •} Your time, poor fouls! we'll take your very money; Unless Unless you yield for better and for worse: And the grey mare will prove the better horfe. } THE THIEF AND THE CORDELIER, A B ALL A D; то THE TUNE OF KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY. WHO HO has e'er been at Paris, muft needs know the Greve, The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate brave; Where Honour and Justice most oddly contribute There Death breaks the fhackles 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 Poft, Find their pains no more balk'd, and their hopes no more croft. Derry down, &c. Great Great claims are there made, and great fecrets are known; And the king, and the law, and the thief, has his own: But my hearers cry out, What a duce doft 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 oblig'd to appear: 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 haste that the show should begin : Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart ; And often took leave, but was loth to depart. What frightens you thus, my good fon? fays the You murder'd, are forry, and have been confest. 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 die : let the church do the rest. Derry down, &c. VOL. XXXIII. H And And what will folks fay, if they see you afraid? trade: It reflects upon me, as I knew not my To-morrow! our Hero replied in a fright : He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of tonight. Tell your beads, quoth the Prieft, 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, Parbleu! I fhall have little ftomach to eat ; favour and grace, Would you be fo kind as to go in my place. Derry down, &c. That I would, quoth the Father, and thank you to boot; But our actions, you know, with our duty must suit. For this night, by our order, is mark’d for a fast. Then, turning about to the hangman, he said, то TO CHL O E. WHILST I am fcorch'd with hot defire, In vain cold friendship you return ; Your drops of pity on my fire, Alas! but make it fiercer burn. Ah! would you have the flame fuppreft, A N E PIT A PH. "Stet quicunque volet potens "Aulæ culmine lubrico, &c." SENEC. INTERR'D beneath this marble ftone H 2 They |