The Grand Question, &c.

Written in the Year 1729.

HUS fpoke to my Lady, the Knight full of

THU Care;

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

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

For a Barrack or Malt-Houfe, we now muft confider.

FIRST, let me fuppofe I make it a Malt-Houfe: 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 handsome Addition for Wine and good Chear, Three Dishes a Day, and three Hogfheads a Year.

† A large old Houfe two Miles from Sir A- A's Sear. The Army in Ireland, is lodg'd in Atrong Buildings over the whole Kingdom, call'd Barracks.

With

With a Dozen large Vessels 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 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 lofe my Eftate.

THUS ended the Knight: Thus began his meck

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 rufty 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 ;

* A cant Word in Ireland for a poor Country Clergyman

I then shall not value his Deanfhip a Straw,

For the Captain, I warrant, will keep him in Awe; Or fhould he pretend to be brisk and alert,

Will tell him that Chaplains should not be so pert; That Men of his Coat fhould be minding their

Prayers,

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 * 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 gueft there wou'd never come Good, When I saw 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 fcream'd!

*My Lady's Waiting woman. Two of Sir A---'s Ma

nagers.

VOL. II.

R

And

And after, me thought, I had loft my new Shoes; And, Molly, fhe faid, 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 fo ftout, That for twenty Denials you would not give out. If I had a Husband like him, I purteft,

'Till he gave me my Will, I wou'd give him no

Reft:

And rather than come in the fame Pair of Sheets
With fuch a crofs Man, I wou'd lye in the Streets.
But, Madam, I beg you contrive and invent,
And worry him out, 'till he gives his Confent.

DEAR Madam, whene'er of a Barrack I think,
An I were to be hang'd, I can't fleep a Wink:
For, if a new Crotchet comes into my Brain,
I can't get it out, tho' I'd never fo fain.
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

Now, fee, when they meet, how their Honour's

behave;

Noble Captain, your Servant-Sir Arthur your

Slave;

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

I think I have feen her Picture by Fervis.----Good Morrow, good Captain,- --I'll wait on you down,

You shan'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 Refpects to my Lady unknown.-
I hope you will use my House as your own.

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

"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.