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Proud baronet of Nova Scotia! The dean and Spaniard must reproach ye: Of their two fames the world enough rings; Where are thy services and suff'rings? What if for nothing once you kist, Against the grain, a monarch's fift? What if, among the courtly tribe, You lost a place, and sav'd a bribe? And then in surly mood came here To fifteen hundrd pounds a year, And fierce against the whigs harangu'd? You never ventur'd to be hang’d. How dare you treat your betters thus? Are you to be compar'd with us ?
Come, Spaniard, let us from our farms Call forth our cottagers to arms; Our forces let us both unite, Attack the foe at left and right; From Market-hill's exalted head, Full northward let your troops be led; While I froin Drapier's-mount descend, And to the south my squadrons bend. New-river-walk with friendly shade Shall keep my hoft in ambuscade; While
from where the bason stands, Shall scale the rampart with your bands.
Nor need we doubt the fort to win;
In vain to frisk or climb he tries; 'The huntsmen seize the grinning prize,
But let us on our first assault Secure the larder and the vault: The valiant * Dennis you must fix on, And I'll engage with + Peggy Dixon: Then, if we once can seize the key And chest, that keeps my lady's tea; They must surrender at discretion, And soon as we have gain'd possession, We'll act as other conqu’rors do, Divide the realm between us two: Then (let me see) we'll make the knight Our clerk, for he can read and write; But must not think, I tell him that, Like I 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. Leslie; But, left it might not be so proper That her own maid should over-top her; To mortify the creature more, We'll take her heels five inches low'r.
* The butler.
For Hannah, when we have no need of
her, 'Twill be our int’rest to get rid of her: And when we execute our plot, 'Tis best to hang her on the spot ; As all your politicians wise Dispatch the rogues by whom they rise.
TRA U L U S. A Dialogue between TOM and ROBIN.
The First PART,
Written in the Year 1730.
Tom.SAY, Robin, what can Traulus mean
By bell’wing thus against the dean? Why does he call him paltry scribbler, Papist
, and jacobite, and lib'ler? Yet cannot prove a single fact ? Robin. Forgive him, Tom, his head is
crackt. Tom. What mischief can the dean have
done him, That Traulus .calls for vengeance on him?
Why must he sputter, spawl, and saver it
Robin. Why, Tom, I think the cafeis plain, Party and spleen have turn'd his brain.
Tom. Such friendship never man profest, The dean was never so carest; For Traulus long his rancour nurs’d, 'Till, God knows why, at last it burst. That clumsy outside of a porter, How could it thus conceal a courtier ?
Robin. I own, appearances are bad; Yet still insist the man is mad.
Tom. Yet many a wretch in Bedlamknows How to distinguish friends from foes; And, though perhaps among the rout, He wildly Alings his filth about; He still has gratitude and fap’ence, To spare the folks that give him ha’pence; Nor in their eyes at random pisses, But turns aside like mad Ulysses : While Traulus all his ordure scatters To foul the man he chiefly flatters.