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The bluftering bully in our neighbouring streets
Scorns to attack the female that he meets :
Fearless the petticoat contemns his frowns:
The hoop fecures whatever it surrounds.
The many-colour'd gentry there above,
By turns are rul'd by tumult and by love:
And, while their fweethearts their attention fix,
Sufpend the din of their damn'd clattering sticks.
Now, Sirs

To you our author makes her foft request,
Who speak the kindeft, and who write the best,
Your fympathetic 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 verse ;
She hopes from you-Pox take her hopes and fears;
I plead her fex's claim; what matters hers?
By our full power of beauty we think fit
To damn the Salique law impos'd on wit:
We'll try the empire who so long have boasted;
And, if we are not prais'd, we'll not be toasted.
Approve what one of us prefents to-night,

Or every
Rural, pathetic, narrative, fublime,

mortal woman here shall write :

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

•}

Your time, poor fouls! 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

Unless you yield for better and for worse:
Then the She-Pegasus shall gain the course;

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
To eafe heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.

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.
Derry down, &c.

What frightens you thus, my good fon? fays the
Prieft:

You murder'd, are forry, and have been confest.
O father! my forrow will scarce fave my bacon;
For 'twas not that I murder'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 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
Courage, friend; for to-day is your period of forrow;
And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow.
Derry down, &c.

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 ;

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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.
The feaft 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,
Difpatch 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 die.
Derry down, &c.

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,
That kills the heart it heats too fast,
Take half my paffion to your breaft:
The reft in mine fhall ever laft.

A N

E PIT A PH.

"Stet quicunque volet potens "Aulæ culmine lubrico, &c."

SENEC.

INTERR'D beneath this marble ftone
Lie fauntering Jack and idle Joan.
While rolling threefcore 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 paft, the evening came,
And found this couple ftill the fame.

H 2

They

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