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And, though fome malicious young fpirit did do't, You may know by the hand it had no cloven foot. Chor. Let cenfuring, &c.

THE DISCOVERY.

WHEN wife lord Berkeley first came here

Statesmen and mob expected wonders,

Nor thought to find fo great a peer

Ere a week past committing blunders.

Till on a day cut out by fate,

When folks came thick to make their court,

Out flipt a mystery of state,

To give the town and country sport.
Now enters † Bush with new state airs,
His lordship's premier minister;
And who, in all profound affairs,

Is held as needful as his ‡ clyfter.
With head reclining on his fhoulder,
He deals and hears mysterious chat,
While every ignorant beholder,

Afks of his neighbour, who is that? With this he put up to my lord,

The courtiers kept their distance due, He twitch'd his fleeve, and ftole a word;

Then to a corner both withdrew.

To Ireland, as one of the lords juftices.

Bush, by fome underhand infinuation, obtained the post of Se

cretary; which had been promifed to Swift.

Always taken before my lord went to council.

9

Imagine

Imagine now, my lord and Bufh

Whispering in junto moft profound,
Like good king *Phyz and good king Ufh,
While all the reft ftood gaping round.
At length a fpark not too well bred,
Of forward face and ear acute,
Advanc'd on tiptoe, lean'd his head,
To over-hear the grand difpute;
To learn what Northern kings defign,
Or from Whitehall fome new express,
Papifts difarm'd, or fall of coin;

For fure (thought he) it can't be less.
My lord, faid Bufh, a friend and I,
Difguis'd in two old thread-bare coats,
Ere morning's dawn, ftole out to fpy

How markets went for hay and oats. With that he draws two handfuls out, The one was oats, the other hay; Puts this to's excellency's fnout,

And begs he would the other weigh.
My lord feems pleas'd, but ftill directs
By all means to bring down the rates;
Then, with a congée circumflex,

Bufh, fmiling round on all retreats.
Our liftener ftood a while confus'd,
But gathering fpirits, wifely ran for't,
Enrag'd to see the world abus'd,

By two fuch whispering kings of Brentford.

See" The Rehearsal."

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THE

DID

THE

PROBLEM.

THAT MY LORD BERKELEY STINKS,
WHEN HE IS IN LOVE."

ID ever problem thus perplex,
Or more employ, the female fex?
So fweet a paffion, who would think,
Jove ever form'd to make a ftink?
The ladies vow and fwear, they'll try,
Whether it be a truth or lie.

Love's fire, it feems, like inward heat,
Works in my lord by ftool and fweat,
Which brings a flink from every pore,
And from behind and from before;

'Yet, what is wonderful to tell it,

None but the favourite nymph can smell it.
But now, to folve the natural caufe
By fober philofophic laws :

Whether all paffions, when in ferment,
Work out as anger does in vermin;
So, when a weazel you torment,
You find his paffion by his fcent.
We read of kings, who, in a fright,
Though on a throne, would fall to fh-.
Befide all this, deep fcholars know,
That the main ftring of Cupid's bow,
Once on a time was an a- gut ;
Now to a nobler office put,

By favour or defert preferr'd
From giving paffage to a t― ;

VOL. VII.

D

But

But ftill, though fix'd among the stars
Does fympathize with human a—.

Thus, when you feel a hard-bound breech,
Conclude love's bow-ftring at full ftretch,
Till the kind loofenefs comes, and then
Conclude the bow relax'd again.

And now, the ladies all are bent
To try the great experiment,
Ambitious of a regent's heart,
Spread all their charms to catch a f―;
Watching the first unfavoury wind,
Some ply before, and fome behind.
My lord, on fire amid the dames,
F-ts like a laurel in the flames.
The fair approach the speaking part,
To try the back-way to his heart.
For, as when we a gun discharge,
Although the bore be ne'er fo large,
Before the flame from muzzle burst,
Juft at the breech it flashes first:
So from my lord his paffion broke,
He fd firft, and then he spoke.

The ladies vanish in the smother,
To confer notes with one another;
And now they all agreed to name
Whom each-one thought the happy dame.
Quoth Neal, whate'er the reft may think,
I'm fure 'twas I, that fmelt the stink.
You fmell the ftink! by G-d, you lye,
Quoth Rofs, for I'll be fworn 'twas I.

Ladies,

Ladies, quoth Levens, pray forbear:
Let's not fall out; we all had fhare,
And, by the most I can discover,
My lord's a univerfal lover.

THE DESCRIPTION

O F

A SALAMANDER.

1706.

Pliny, Nat. Hift. lib. x. c. 67. lib. xxix. c. 4.

AS maftiff dogs in modern phrase are

Call'd Pompey, Scipio, and Cæfar;

As pies and daws are often styl'd
With Chriftian nicknames, like a child;
As we fay Monsieur to an Ape,
Without offence to human fhape;
So men have got, from bird and brute,
Names that would beft their natures fuit.
The Lion, Eagle, Fox, and Boar,
Were Heroes titles heretofore,

Beftow'd as hieroglyphics fit

To fhew their valour, ftrength, or wit:
For what is understood by fame,
Befide the getting of a name?
But, e'er fince men invented guns,
A different way their fancy runs :
To paint a Hero, we inquire

For fomething that will conquer fire.
Would defcribe Turenne or Trump?

you

Think of a bucket or a pump.

Are thefe too low?-then find out grander,

Call

my

lord Cutts a Salamander.

D 2

"Tis

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