The GRAND QUESTION, &c.

T

Written in the Year 1729.

HUS fpoke to my Lady, the Knight full of
Care,

Let me have your Advice in a weighty Affair,
This HAMILTON's Bawn, while it fticks on my

Hand,

I lose by the Houfe what I get by the Land;
But, how to difpofe of it to the best Bidder,

For a ↑ Barrack or Malt-boufe, we must now confider,

FIRST, let me fuppofe, I make it a Malt-house : Here I have computed the Profit will fall t'us, There's nine hundred Pounds for Labour and Grain, I increase it to twelve, fo three hundred remain ; A handfome Addition for Wine and good Chear. Three Dishes a Day, and three Hogfheads a Year. With a dozen large Veffels my Vault shall be stor❜d, No little fcrub Joint fhall come on my Board: And, you and the Dean no more shall combine, To ftint me at Night to one Bottle of Wine;

Nor

A large old House two Miles from Sir A—— A—'s Seat. + The Army in Ireland is lodged in ftrong Buildings over the whole Kingdom, called Barracks.

Nor fhall I, for his Humour, permit you to purloin
A Stone and a Quarter of Beef from my Sirloin.
If I make it a Barrack, the Crown is my Tenant,
My Dear, I have ponder'd again and again on't:
In Poundage and Drawbacks, I lose half my Rent,
Whatever they give me I must be content,
Or join with the Court in ev'ry Debate,

And rather than that, I would lose my Estate;

THUS ended, the Knight: Thus began his meek
Wife :

It must, and it shall be a Barrack, my Life.
I'm grown a meer Mopus; no Company comes;
But a Rabble of Tenants, and rusty dull * Rums;
With Parfons, what Lady can keep herself clean?
I'm all over dawb'd when I fit by the Dean.
But, if you will give us a Barrack, my Dear,
The Captain, I'm fure, will always come here;
I then fhall not value his Deanfhip a Straw,
For the Captain, I warrant, will keep him in Awe;
Or fhould he pretend to be brifk and alert,
Will tell him, that Chaplains fhould not be fo pert;
That Men of his Coat fhould be minding their
Pray'rs,

And not among Ladies to give themselves Airs.

THUS argu'd my Lady, but argu’d in vain ; The Knight his Opinion refolv'd to maintain.

BUT,

* A Cant Word in Ireland for a poor Country Clergyman.

BUT, * Hannah, who liften'd to all that was past, And could not endure fo vulgar a Taste;

As foon as her Ladyfhip call'd to be dreft,
Cry'd, Madam, why furely my Master's poffeft;
Sir Arthur the Malfter! how fine it will found?
I'd rather the Bawn were funk under Ground.
But, Madam, I guess'd there would never come
Good,

When I faw him so often with † Darby and Wood.
And now my Dream's out: For I was a-dream'd
That I faw a huge Rat; O dear, how I scream'd!
And after, methought, I had loft my new Shoes;
And Molly, she said, I should hear fome ill News.

DEAR Madam, had you but the Spirit to teaze, You might have a Barrack whenever you please : And, Madam, I always believ'd you so stout, That for twenty Denials you wou'd not give out. If I had a Husband like him, I purtest,

'Till he gave me my Will, I would give him no Reft:
And rather than come in the fame Pair of Sheets
With fuch a cross Man, I would lie in the Streets.
But, Madam, I beg you contrive and invent,
And worry him out, till he gives his Consent.

DEAR Madam, whene'er of a Barrack I think, An I were to be hang'd, I can't sleep a Wink : For, if a new Crotchet comes into my Brain,

I can't get it out, tho' I'd never so fain,

* My Lady's Waiting Woman.

I

Two of Sir A

-'s Managers.

I fancy already a Barrack contriv'd

At Hamilton's Bawn, and the Troop is arriv'd:
Of this, to be fure, Sir Arthur has Warning,
And waits on the Captain betimes the next Morning.

Now, fee, when they meet, how their Honours

behave;

Noble Captain, your Servant,

your Slave;

Sir Arthur

You honour me much-the Honour is mine'Twas a fad rainy Night-but the Morning is finePray, how does my Lady?My Wife's at your Service

I think I have seen her Picture by Jervis.

Good morrow, good Captain,I'll wait on you

down

You fhan't ftir a Foot-You'll think me a Clown.-
For all the World, Captain, not half an Inch farther—
You must be obey'd -your Servant, Sir Arthur;
My humble Respects to my Lady unknown-
I hope you will use my House as your own.

Go, bring me my Smock, and leave off your
Prate,

"Thou haft certainly gotten a Cup in thy Pate. Pray, Madam, be quiet; what was it I faid? You had like to have put it quite out of my

Head.

NEXT Day, to be fure, the Captain will come At the Head of his Troop, with Trumpet and Drum, Now, Madam, obferve, how he marches in State: The Man with the Kettle-drum enters the Gate;

Dub,

Dub, dub, a-dub, dub. The Trumpeters follow,
Tantara, tantara, while all the Boys halloo.
See, now comes the Captain, all dawb'd with Gold-
lace :

O law! the sweet Gentleman, look in his Face;
And fee how he rides like a Lord of the Land,
With the fine flaming Sword that he holds in his
Hand;

And his Horse, the dear Creter, it prances and rears, With Ribbons in Knots, at its Tail and its Ears;

At laft comes the Troop, by the Word of Command Drawn up in our Court, when the Captain cries, Stand.

Your Ladyship lifts up the Safh to be seen, (For fure I had dizen'd you out like a Queen) The Captain, to fhew he is proud of the Favour, Looks up to your Window, and cocks up his Beaver. (His Beaver is cock'd; pray, Madam, mark that, For, a Captain of Horfe never takes off his Hat; Because he has never a Hand that is idle; For, the Right holds the Sword, and the Left holds the Bridle.)

Then flourishes thrice his Sword in his Air,

As a Compliment due to a Lady so fair;

How I tremble to think of the Blood it hath spilt!
Then he low'rs down the Point, and kiffes the Hilt.
Your Ladyship fmiles, and thus you begin;
Pray, Captain, be pleas'd to light, and walk in:
The Captain falutes you with Congee profound;
And your Ladyship curchyes half way to the Ground.