The PROGRESS of ADVICE. A Common CASE. Suade, nam certum eft. Ays RICHARD TO THOMAS (and feem'd half afraid) SA "I am thinking to marry thy mistress's maid: Now, because Mrs. Lucy to thee is well known, I will do't if thou bid'st me, or let it alone. Nay don't make a jest on't; 'tis no jest to me ; Said THOMAS to RICHARD, "To speak my opinion, There is not fuch a bitch in King GEORGE's dominion, And I firmly believe, if thou knew'ft her as I do, Thou wou'dft chufe out a whipping poft, first to bety'd to. She's peevish, she's thievish, she's ugly, she's old, And a lyar, and a fool, and a flut, and a scold.” Next day RICHARD haften'd to church and was wed, And,erenight,had inform'd her what THOMAS had faid. A BAL A BALLA D. Trabit fua quemque voluptas. FRom Lincoln to London rode forth our young fquire, To give up the op'ra, the park, and the ball, To forfake the dear play-house, Quin,Garrick, & Clive, To forget the gay fashions and geftures of France, And to leave dear Augufte in the midft of the dance, And Harlequin too!-'twas in vain to require it; And fhe wonder'd how folks had the face to defire it. She might yield to refign the fweet-fingers of Ruckholt, To be fure fhe cou'd breathe no where else than in town, Thus fhe talk'd like a wit, and he look'd like a clown; But the while honest Harry defpair'd to fucceed, A coach with a coronet trail'd her to Tweed. SLENDER'S Ghoft. vid. SHAKESPEAR. B Eneath a church-yard yew, Decay'd and worn with age, Poor SLENDER'S ghoft, that whimp'ring cry'd, Ye gentle bards! give ear! Who talk of amorous rage, Who spoil the lilly, rob the rose, Why fhou'd fuch labour'd ftrains I never dreamt of flame or dart, That fir'd my breaft, or pierc'd my heart, But figh'd, O fweet ANNE PAGE! And And you whofe love-fick minds O fweet O fweet ANNE PAGE! And ye! whose souls are held, Who talk of fetters, links, and chains, Attend, and imitate my ftrains! O fweet O fweet ANNE PAGE! And you who boast or grieve, Of wounds receiv'd from many an eye; O fweet O fweet ANNE PAGE! Hence ev'ry fond conceit Of fhepherd or of fage! 'Tis SLENDER's voice, 'tis SLENDER's way Expreffes all you have to say. O fweet O fweet ANNE PAGE! The The INVIDIOUS. MART. Fortune! if my pray'r of old Was ne'er follicitous for gold, In a well-made effectual ftring, Fain wou'd I fee LIVIDIO fwing! Hear him, from Tyburn's height haranguing, But fuch a cur's not worth one's hanging. Give me, O goddess! store of pelf, And he will tye the knot, himseif. The PRICE of an EQUIPAGE. Servum fi potes, Ole, non habere Et regem potes, Ole, non habere. MAR. Afk'd a friend, amidst the throng, I was Whofe coach it was that trail'd along : "The gilded coach there-don't ye mind? That, with the footmen ftuck behind." |