Proud baronet of Nova Scotia! The dean and Spaniard muft reproach ye: Come, Spaniard, let us from our farms from where the bafon ftands, Shall fcale the rampart with your bands. Nor Nor need we doubt the fort to win; True, lady Anne no danger fears, By these embroider'd high-heel'd fhoes The fhoes put on, our faithful portress They place before him gloves and fhoes; *My lady's waiting-maid. In vain to frifk or climb he tries; on, But let us on our firft affault Secure the larder and the vault: The valiant * Dennis you must fix And I'll engage with + Peggy Dixon: Then, if we once can feize the key And cheft, that keeps my lady's tea, ⠀⠀ They muft furrender at difcretion, And foon as we have gain'd poffeffion, We'll act as other conqu'rors do, Divide the realm between us two: Then (let me fee) we'll make the knight Our clerk, for he can read and write; But must not think, I tell him that, Like + Lorimer to wear his hat; Yet, when we dine without a friend, We'll place him at the lower end. Madam, whose skill does all in dress lie, May serve to wait on Mrs. Leflie; But, left it might not be fo proper That her own maid fhould over-top her To mortify the creature more, ,, We'll take her heels five inches low'r. The butler. + The agent. The house-keeper. For 'Twill be our int'reft to get rid of her: Dispatch the rogues by whom they rise. T RAULUS. A Dialogue between TOM and ROBIN. The Firft PART. Written in the Year 1730. Tom. SAY, Robin, what can Traulus mean Why does he call him paltry fcribbler, Yet cannot prove a single fact? Robin. Forgive him, Tom, his head is crackt. Tom. What mifchief can the dean have done him, That Traulus calls for vengeance on him? Why Why muft he sputter, fpawl, and flaver it Which gave the dean the name of Drapier? Robin. Why, Tom, I think the cafe is plain, Party and spleen have turn'd his brain. Tom. Such friendship never man profest, The dean was never fo careft; For Traulus long his rancour nurs'd, 'Till, God knows why, at laft it burst. That clumfy outfide of a porter, How could it thus conceal a courtier ? Robin. I own, appearances are bad; Yet ftill infift the man is mad. Tom. Yet many a wretch in Bedlam knows How to diftinguish friends from foes; And, though perhaps among the rout, He wildly flings his filth about; He ftill has gratitude and fap'ence, To fpare the folks that give him ha'pence; Nor in their eyes at random piffes, But turns afide like mad Ulyffes: While Traulus all his ordure scatters To foul the man he chiefly flatters. Whence |