POLITICAL SONG. [From the Oracle.] "I confider the events of the 23d of July as a premature birth, or rather as an abortion of Ireland, cured by the care and precaution of HER DOCTOR." (Vide the Speech of an Irish Member; or, a New Lecture on Midwifery, delivered on the Irish Rebellion Debate, and fet to the old tune of Nancy Dawfon.) PILLARS of the obstetric trade, Accoucheurs, midwives, bow your head, And bend to all fo wifely faid By Doctor Dicky Dawson! "For births, however premature, Rare Doctor Dicky Dawson! The House they gap'd with eager gaze, Of Doctor Dicky Dawfon! Rare Doctor Dicky Dawson ! Alas! for that ill-fated land, Rare Doctor Dicky Dawson! BRODUM. MR. EDITOR, AXING PARDON. [From the fame.] NOTHING can be more uncivil than to interfere between two gentlemen who may have had a little difference of opinion; and therefore when my friend and countryman, the Member for M-n-ghan, had fo civilly axed pardon from Mr. Adn before all the whole tote of the Houfe of Commons, after they were gone home, for having called him a Doctor, it was not fo civil of you to talk fo much about an abortion and a premature birth-unlefs you mane to infinuate that my friend, the Member for M-n-ghan, was either the one or t' other of thofe hard names : and if that is your maning, I muft tell you that he is as entirely, and as well borned as any man in Ireland; and fo far from being a premature birth, his head is as hard as any other jontleman's; and he fhall be ready to prove it, by breaking yours, or that of any body that calls him an abortion. And fo, Sir, without any farther botheration, all his maning was, that the Irish Rebellion that broke out on the 23d of July, was not born at all, at all; but was only born prematurely, and fo being an abortion, and not being at all, at all, it was cured by the Doctor, by which his maning was Mr. Adbut he did not mane to call him a Doctor. And now if any body has any farther queftions to ax about this, or any message to fend to me as a jontleman, they will always find me at home to give them fatisfaction; but I do not choose that my lodgings fhould be known, for at prefent I have none; and fo, as I faid before, I don't choose to give you my drefs; but I am, Sir, -n; Your humble fervant, ad MURDOCH O'MONAGHAN. A LECTURE UPON HEADS. IS proverbially handed from father to fon, 'TIS And agreed, that "two heads are much better than one ;” But Fofter has prov'd (oh, unfortunate lout!) "That one head with brains, far excels two without." CORNELIUS CAPUT. "PAR NOBILE;" OR, IRISH EXCHANGE. HAIL, illuftrious Alexander ! I do not mean King Philip's fon, That gives fuch grace to all he says; On double falary he mufes, And Irish penfion paid at "par." The noble Ormfby at his heels- The "good the gods" provide at "par." So we fhare the nation's treasure," BRODUM. THE CALDRON, A POLITICAL MASQUE, ALTERED FROM SHAKSPEARE; As intended to have been performed at a PRIVATE THEATRE, on Sunday Evening, by HIS MAJESTY'S DISCARDED SERANTS, and fome other RISING ACTORS, PORTER. [From the Herald.] SCENE-A PORTER'S LODGE. BY the pricking of my thumbs, VOICE within. Open locks, whoever knocks! ARIETTA, by an Invisible. Black fpirits, and white, Blue fpirits with Grey, You that mingle may! RECITATIVE, by the Municipal Officer of the NIGHT, on the appearance of various Spirits. How now 'ye fecret, black, and midnight hags, What is 't you do? SPIRITS All, A deed without a name! [They enter. AIR, affetuofo, by the Lady of the Cafle. 1 WITCH-Where haft thou been, fifter? 2d Ditto-Feeding our fwine. Sifter, where thou? *1ft WITCH-In yonder naval court-a failor Lord Had chefouts in his lap: Give me, quoth L, *The rehearsal was poftponed on account of the performer who was to enact the Chief Witch fending word, that he should not be ready in his part before Thursday next. A Aroint thee, Witch, the rump-fed runnion He to the Ind' hath fent his barques of war And, like a rat without a tail, 3d WITCH-I'll give thee a wind. ift Ditto 4th Ditto if Ditto -Thou art kind. -And I another. And I myself have all the other. Twice and once the hedge-pig whin'd, Toad that fwells with Envy's cud, Root of hemlock digg'd i' th' dark, HECATE |