What methods he try'd, and what arts to prevail; All thefe, were they told, would but burden my tale

In short, all affairs were fo happily carry'd,
That hardly fix weeks pafs'd away till they marry'd.
But Envy grew fick when the story she heard,
Violette was the girl that of all the most fear'd;

nefs,

Her eafe and compliance, her taste and her neatness ; From these she was fure that her man could not

And writers of scandal, for mending the times),
By loffes in bufinefs, and England's well-doing,
Are funk in their credit, and verging on ruin.
That these their misfortunes, they humbly con-
ceive,

Arife not from dulnefs, as some folks believe,

T

HE pris'ner was at large indicted,
For that by thirst of gain excited,

One day in July laft, at tea,

And in the house of Mrs. P.
From the left breaft of E. M. gent.
With base felonious intent,

Did then and there a heart with ftrings,
Reft, quiet, peace, and other things,
Steal, rob and plunder; and all them
The chattels of the faid E. M.

The profecutor swore, last May
(The month he knew, but not the day)
He left his friends in town, and went
Upon a visit down in Kent:

That staying there a month or two,
He spent his time as others do,

In riding, walking, fishing, swimming;
But being much inclin'd to women,

And young and wild, and no great reafoner,
He got acquainted with the prisoner.

laid,

And want of materials to carry on trade.

That they always had form'd high conceits of

their use,

And meant their last breath should go out in abuse;
But now (and they speak it with sorrow and tears)
Since your Honour has fat at the helm of affairs,
No party will join them, no faction invite

To heed what they fay, or to read what they write;
Sedition, and Tumult, and Discord are fled,
And Slander scarce ventures to lift up her head-
In fhort, public bufiness is so carry'd on,

That their country is fav'd, and the patriots undone. To perplex them ftill more, and fure famine to bring,

(Now fatire has loft both its truth and its sting) If, in fpite of their natures, they bungle at praise, Your honour regards not, and nobody pays.

YOUR petitioners therefore must humbly intreat (As the times will allow, and your Honour thinks meet)

That measures be chang'd, and some cause of complaint

Be immediately furnish'd, to end their restraint; Their credit thereby, and their trade to retrieve, That again they may rail, and the nation believe. Or else (if your wisdom shall 'deem it all one) Now the Parliament's rifing, and business is done,

That the 'ad a trick of stealing hearts,
And from fifteen to twenty-two,
Had made the devil and all to do:
But Mr. W. the vicar,

(And no man brews you better liquor)
Spoke of her thefts as tricks of youth,
The frolicks of a girl forfooth:
Things now were on another score,
He faid; for fhe was twenty-four.
However, to make matters short,
And not to trefpafs on the court,
The lady was discover'd foon,
And thus it was. One afternoon,
The ninth of July laft, or near it,
(As' to the day, he could not fwear it)
In company at Mrs. P.'s,

Where folks fay any thing they please ;
Dean L. and lady Mary by,
And Fanny waiting on Mifs Y.
(He own'd he was inclined to think
Both were a little in their drink)

The pris'ner afk'd, and call'd him coufin,
How many kiffes made a dozen ?
That being, as he own'd, in liquor,
The question made his blood run quicker,
And, fenfe and reafon in eclipfe,
He vow'd he'd fcore them on her lips.

That rifing up to keep his word,
He got as far as kifs the third,
And would have counted t' other nine,
And fo all prefent did opine,

But that he felt a fudden dizziness,
That quite undid him for the business:
His fpeech, he said, began to falter,
His eyes to ftare, his mouth to water,
His breast to thump without ceffation,
And all within one conflagration.
Blefs me! fays Fanny, what's the matter?
And lady Mary look'd hard at her,

And ftamp'd, and wifh'd the pris'ner further,
And cry'd out, Part them, or there's murther!
That still he held the pris'ner faft,
And would have stood it to the laft;
But struggling to go through the rest,
He felt a pain across his breaft,
A fort of fudden twinge, he said,
That seem'd almost to strike him dead,
And after that fuch cruel fmarting,
He thought the foul and body parting.
That then he let the pris'ner go,
And stagger'd off a step or fo;
And thinking that his heart was ill,
He begg'd of Mifs Y.'s maid to feel.
That Fanny stept before the rest,
And laid her hand upon his breast;
But, mercy on us! what a ftare

The creature gave! No heart was there;
Soufe went her fingers in the hole,
Whence heart, and ftrings, and all were stole.
That Fanny turn'd, and told the prisoner,
She was a thief, and so she'd christen her;
And that it was a burning fhame,
And brought the houfe an evil name;
And if she did not put the heart in,

The man would pine and die for certain.
The pris'ner then was in her airs,
And bid her mind her own affairs;
And told his reverence, and the rest of 'em,
She was as honeft as the best of 'em.
That lady Mary and dean L.
Rofe up and faid, "Twas mighty well,
But that, in general terms they faid it,
A heart was gone, and fome one had it :
Words would not do, for search they must,
And fearch they would, and her the first.
That then the pris'ner dropp'd her anger,
And faid, the hop'd they would not hang her;
That all the did was meant in jeft,
And there the heart was, and the rest.
That then the dean cry'd out, O fie!
And fent in hafte for justice I.

Who, though he knew her friends and pity'd her,
Call'd her hard names, and so committed her.

The parties present swore the fame ;

And Fanny faid, the pris'ner's name
Had frighten'd all the country round;
And glad she was the bill was found.
She knew a man, who knew another,
Who knew the very party's brother;
Who loft his heart by mere furprize,
One morning looking at her eyes;
And others had been known to fqueak,
Who only chanc'd to hear her speak:
For she had words of fuch a fort,
That though she knew no reason for't,

Would make a man of fense run mad,
And rifle him of all he had;

And that she'd rob the whole community,
If ever the had opportunity.

The pris'ner now firft filence broke,
And curtfy'd round her as fhe spoke.
She own'd, the faid, it much incens'd her,
To hear fuch matters fworn against her,
But that the hop'd to keep her temper,
And prove herfelf "eadem femper."
That what the profecutor swore

Was fome part true, and some part more:

She own'd fhe had been often feen with him,
And laugh'd and chatted on the green with him ;
The fellow feem'd to have humanity,
And told her tales that footh'd her vanity,
Pretending that he lov'd her vastly,
And that all women elfe look'd ghaftly.
But then the hop'd the court would think
She never was inclin'd to drink,

Or fuffer hands like his to daub her, or
Encourage men to kifs and flobber her;
She'd have folks know she did not love it,
Or if she did, she was above it.

But this, the faid, was fworn of course,
To prove her giddy, and then worse;
As the whofe conduct was thought "lævis,"
Might very well be reckon'd thievish.
She hop'd, the faid, the court's difcerning
Would pay fome honour to her learning,
For every day from four to past fix,

She went up-stairs, and read the claffics.
Thus having clear'd herself of levity,
The reft, the faid, would come with brevity.
And firft, it injur'd not her honour
To own the heart was found upon her;
For the could prove, and did aver,
The paltry thing belong'd to her:
The fact was thus. This prince of knaves
Was once the humblest of her flaves,
And often had confefs'd the dart
Her eyes had lodg'd within his heart:
That the, as 'twas her conftant fashion,
Made great diversion of his passion;
Which fet his blood in fuch a ferment,
As feem'd to threaten his interment :
That then she was afraid of losing him,
And fo defifted from abusing him;
And often came and felt his pulse,
And bid him write to docter Hulfe.
The prosecutor thank'd her kindly,
And figh'd, and said she look'd divinely;
But told her that his heart was bursting,
And doctors he had little truft in;
He therefore begg'd her to accept it,
And hop'd 'twould mend if once the kept it.
That having no aversion to it,

She faid, with all her foul, she'd do it ;

But then the begg'd him to remember,

If he thould need it in December,

(For winter months would make folks shiver,
Who wanted either heart or liver)

It never could return; and added,
''Twas her's for life, if once fhe had it.
The profecutor faid, Amen,

And that he wish'd it not again;/
And took it from his breast and gave her,
And bow'd, and thank'd her for the favour ;

But begged the thing might not be spoke of,
As heartless men were made a joke of.
That next day, whisp'ring him about it,
And asking how he felt without it,
He figh'd, and cry'd, Alack! alack!
And begg'd, and pray'd to have it back;
Or that she'd give him her's instead on't:
But the conceiv'd there was no need on't;
And faid, and bid him make no pother,
He fhould have neither one not t'other.
That then he rav'd and storm'd like fury,
And faid, that one was his "de jure,"
And rather than he'd leave purfuing her,
He'd swear a robbery, and ruin her.
That this was truth fhe did aver,

Whatever hap betided Her;

Only that Mrs. P. the faid,

Mifs Y. and her deluded maid,

And lady Mary, and his reverence,

Were folks to whom the paid some deference; And that the verily believ'd

They were not perjur'd, but deceiv'd.

Then doctor D. begg'd leave to speak,
And figh'd as if his heart would break. ›
He said, that he was madam's furgeon,
Or rather, as in Greek, chirurgeon,
From "cheir, manus, ergon, opus"
(As fcope is from the Latin "fcopus").

That he, he faid, had known the prisoner
From the first fun that ever rife on her;
And griev'd he was to fee her there;
But took upon himself to swear,
There was not to be found in nature
A sweeter or a better creature ;
And if the king (God bless him) knew her,
He'd leave St. James's to get to her:
But then as to the fact in question,
He knew no more on't than Hephæftion;
It might be falfe, and might be true;
And this, he faid, was all he knew.

The judge proceeded to the charge,
And gave the evidence at large,
But often caft a fheep's eye at her,
And ftrove to mitigate the matter,
Pretending facts were not fo clear,
And mercy ought to interfere.

The jury then withdrew a moment,
As if on weighty points to comment;
And right or wrong, refolv'd to fave her,
They gave a verdict in her favour.

But why or wherefore things were so, It matters not fór us to know:

The culprit, by escape grown bold,
Pilfers alike from young and old,
The country all around her teazes,
And robs or murders whom the pleases.

FABLE I.

To thefe, detefting praife, I write, And vent, in charity, my fpite.

то

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS

THE

PRINCESS OF WALES.

HE moral lay, to beauty due,

TH

I write, Fair Excellence, to you ;
Well pleas'd to hope my vacant hours
Have been employ'd to sweeten yours.
Truth under fiction I impart,
To weed out folly from the heart;
And fhew the paths, that lead astray

The wand'ring nymph from wisdom's way.
I fatter none. The great and good
Are by their actions understood;
Your monument if actions raife,
Shall I deface by idle praise ?

I ocho not the voice of fame,
That dwells delighted on your name;
Her friendly tale, however true,
Were flatt'ry, if I told it you.

The proud, the envious, and the vain, The jilt, the prude, demand my strain; VOL. VII.

To all, promifcuous as they pass; Should folly there her likeness view, I fret not that the mirror's true;

If the fantastic form offend,

I made it not, but would amend.

Virtue, in every clime and age, Spurns at the folly-foothing page, While fatire, that offends the ear Of vice and paffion, pleases her.

Premifing this, your anger fpare, And claim the fable you who dare.

"Some birds there are, who, prone to noise, "Are hir'd to filence wisdom's voice, "And kill'd to chatter out the hour, "Rife by their emptiness to pow'r." That this is aim'd direct at me, No doubt, you'll readily agree; Yet well this fage affembly knows, By parts to government I rofe; My prudent counfels prop the ftate; Magpies were never known to prate.

The Kite rofe up. His honeft heart
In virtue's fuff'rings bore a part.

That there were birds of prey he knew ;
So far the libeller faid true ;'

"Voracious, bold, to rapine prone,
"Who knew no int'reft but their own;
"Who hov'ring o'er the farmer's yard,
"Nor pigeon, chick, nor duckling (par'd."
This might be true, but if apply'd
To him, in troth, the fland'rer ly'd.
Since ign'rance then might be misled,
Such things, he thought, were best unfaid.
The Crow was vex'd. As yefter-morn
He flew across the new-fown corn,
A fcreaming boy was fet for pay,
He knew to drive the crows away;
Scandal had found out him in turn,
And buzz'd abroad, that crows love corn.
The Owl arofe, with folemn face,
And thus harangu'd upon the cafe.
That magpies prate, it may be true,
A kite may be voracious too,
Crows fometimes deal in new-fown pease;
He libels not, who ftrikes at these ;

The flander's here-" But there are birds,
"Whose wisdom lies in looks, not words;
"Blund'rers, who level in the dark,
"And always fhoot befide the mark."
He names not me; but these are hints,
Which manifeft at whom he squints;
I were indeed that blund'ring fowl,
To queftion if he meant an owl.

Ye wretches, hence! the Eagle cries,
'Tis confcience, confcience that applies;
The virtuous mind takes no alarm,
Secur'd by innocence from harm;
While guilt, and his affociate fear,
Are startled at the paffing air.

THE PANTHER, THE HORSE, AND OTHER BEASTS.

HE man, who seeks to win the fair,

To cutom fays) mult truth forbear;

Muft fawn and flatter, cringe and lie,
And raise the goddess to the fky.
For truth is hateful to her car,
A rudenefs, which fhe cannot bear.

A rudeness? Yes. I fpeak my thoughts;
For truth upbraids her with her faults.

How wretched, Cloe, then am I,
Who love you, and yet cannot lie!
And still to make you lefs my friend,
I ftrive your errors to amend!
But fhall the fenfelefs fop impart
The fofteft paffion to your heart,

While he, who tells you honest truth,
And points to happiness your youth,
Determines, by his care, his lot,
And lives neglected, and forgot?

Trust me, my dear, with greater ease
Your taste for flatt'ry I could please,
And fimilies in each dull line,

Like glow-worms in the dark, should shine.
What if I fay your lips disclose

The freshness of the op'ning rofe?
Or that your cheeks are beds of flow'rs,
Enripen'd by refreshing show'rs?

Yet certain as these flow'rs fhall fade,
Time every beauty will invade.
The butterfly, of various hue,
More than the flow'r resembles you ;
Fair, flutt'ring, fickle, bufy thing,
To pleasure ever on the wing,
Gayly coquetting for an hour,

To die, and ne'er be thought of more.
Would you the bloom of youth should last ?
'Tis virtue that must bind it faft;
An eafy carriage, wholly free
From four referve, or levity;
Good-natur'd mirth, an open heart,
And looks unskill'd in any art;
Humility, enough to own

The frailties, which a friend makes known;
And decent pride enough to know
The worth, that virtue can bestow.

Thefe are the charms, which ne'er decay,
Though youth and beauty fade away;
And time, which all things elfe removes,
Still heightens virtue, and improves.

You'll frown, and ask to what intent
This blunt address to you is fent?
I'll spare the question, and confess
I'd praise you, if I lov'd you lefs;
But rail, be angry, or complain,
I will be rude, while you are vain.

BENEATH a lion's peaceful reign,
When beasts met friendly on the plain,
A Panther, of majestic port,
(The vaineft female of the court)
With spotted fkin, and eyes of fire,
Fill'd every bofom with defire,
Where-e'er the mov'd, a fervile crowd
Of fawning creatures cring'd and bow'd;
Affemblies every week fhe held,

(Like modern belles) with coxcombs fill'd,
Where noise, and nonfenfe, and grimace,
And lies and fcandal fill'd the place.

Behold the gay, fantastic thing, Encircled by the fpacious ring. Low-bowing, with important look, As first in rank, the Monkey spoke. "Gad take me, madam, but I swear, "No angel ever look'd so fair: "Forgive my rudeness, but I vow, "You were not quite divine till now; "Thofe limbs! that shape! and then those eyes! "O, close them, or the gazer dies !"

Nay, gentle Pug, for goodness hush,

I vow, and fwear, you make me blush;
I shall be angry at this rate;

'Tis fo like flatt'ry, which I hate.

The Fox, in deeper cunning vers'd,
The beauties of her mind rehears'd,
And talk'd of knowledge, taste, and sense,
To which the fair have vaft pretence !
Yet well he knew them always vain
Of what they strive not to attain,
And play'd fo cunningly his part,
That Pug was rival'd in his art.

The Goat avow'd his am'rous flame;
And burnt-for what he durft not name;
Yet hop'd a meeting in the wood
Might make his meaning understood.
Half angry at the bold address,
She frown'd; but yet fhe must confefs,
Such beauties might inflame his blood,
But ftill his phrase was somewhat rude.
The Hog her neatness much admir'd;
The formal Afs her swiftness fir'd;
While all to feed her folly ftrove,
And by their praises fhar'd her love.

The horse, whose gen'rous heart disdain'd
Applaufe, by fervile flatt'ry gain'd,
With graceful courage, filence broke,
And thus with indignation spoke.

When flatt'ring monkeys fawn, and prate, They justly raise contempt or hate; For merit's turn'd to ridicule, Applauded by the grinning fool. The artful Fox your wit commends, To lure you to his selfish ends; From the vile flatt'rer turn away, For knaves make friendships to betray. Difmifs the train of fops, and fools, And learn to live by wifdom's rules; Such beauties might the lion warm, Did not your folly break the charm; For who would court that lovely shape, To be the rival of an ape?

He faid; and fnorting in difdain, Spurn'd at the crowd, and fought the plain,

ONE night, a Glow-worm, proud and vain,
Contemplating her glitt'ring train,
Cry'd, Sure there never was in nature
So elegant, fo fine a creature.

All other infects, that I see,
The frugal ant, induftrious bee,

Or filk-worm, with contempt I view ;
With all that low, mechanic crew,
Who fervilely their lives employ
In business, enemy to joy.
Mean, vulgar herd! ye are my fcorn,
For grandeur only I was born,
Or fure am fprung from race divine,
And plac'd on earth, to live and shine,
Thofe lights that sparkle fo on high,
Are but the glow-worms of the kya

And kings on earth their gems admire,
Because they imitate my fire.

She spoke. Attentive on a spray,
A Nightingale forbore his lay;
He faw the fhining morfel near,
And flew, directed by the glare;
A while he gaz'd with sober look,
And thus the trembling prey bespoke.

Deluded fool, with pride elate,
Know, 'tis thy beauty brings thy fate:
Lefs dazzling, long thou might'it have lain
Unheeded on the velvet plain :

Pride, foon or late, degraded mourns,
And beauty wrecks whom she adorns.

THE hades were fled, the morning blush'd,
The winds were in their caverns hush'd,
When Hymen, penfive and fedate,
Held o'er the fields his mufing gait.

Behind him, through the green-wood shade,
Death's meagre form the god furvey'd,
Who quickly, with gigantic ftride,
Out-went his pace, and join'd his fide.
The chat on various fubjects ran,
Till angry Hymen thus began.

Relentless Death, whofe iron fway
Mortals reluctant must obey,
Still of thy pow'r fhall I complain,
And thy too partial hand arraign?
When Cupid brings a pair of hearts
All over ftuck with equal darts,
Thy cruel shafts my hopes deride,
And cut the knot, that Hymen ty'd,
Shall not the bloody, and the bold,
The mifer, hoarding up his gold,
The harlot, reeking from the ftew,
Alone thy fell revenge pursue?
But must the gentle, and the kind,
Thy fury, undiftinguifh'd, find/?

The monarch calmly thus reply'd: Weigh well the caufe, and then decide. That friend of yours, you lately nam'd, Cupid, alone is to be blam'd; Then let the charge be justly laid; That idle boy neglects his trade, And hardly once in twenty years, A couple to your temple bears. The wretches, whom your office blends, Silenus now, or Plutus fends; Hence care, and bitterness, and strife Are common to the nuptial life.

Believe me more than all mankind, Your vot❜ries my compaffion find; Yet cruel am I call'd, and base, Who feek the wretched to release; The captive from his bonds to free, Indiffoluble but for me.