Have done! have done! I quit the field,
To you as to my wife, I yield:

As she must wear the breeches :
So shall you wear the laurel crown,
Win it and wear it, 'tis your own;
The poet's only riches.

ON THE FIVE LADIES AT SOT'S HOLE.' WITH THE DOCTOR2 AT THEIR HEAD.

N. B. THE LADIES TREATED THE DOCTOR.

FROM AN OFFICER IN THE ARMY.

FAIR ladies, number five,

Who in your merry freaks,
With little Tom contrive

To feast on ale and steaks;

While he sits by a-grinning,
To see you safe in Sot's Hole,

Set up with greasy linen,

SENT AS

1728.

And neither mugs nor pots whole;

Alas! I never thought

A priest would please your palate;
Besides, I'll hold a groat

He'll put you in a ballad;

An ale-house in Dublin, famous for beef-steaks.---F.

2 Doctor Thomas Sheridan.--- F.

Where I shall see your faces,
On paper daub'd so foul,
They'll be no more like graces,
Than Venus like an owl.

And we shall take you rather
To be a midnight pack
Of witches met together,
With Beelzebub in black.

It fills my heart with woe,
To think such ladies fine
Should be reduced so low,
To treat a dull divine.

Be by a parson cheated!

Had you been cunning stagers, You might yourselves be treated By captains and by majors.

See how corruption grows,

While mothers, daughters, aunts,

Instead of powder'd beaux,

From pulpits choose gallants.

If we, who wear our wigs

With fantail and with snake,

Are bubbled thus by prigs;

Z-ds! who would be a rake? ....

Had I a heart to fight,

I'd knock the Doctor down;

Or could I read or write,

Egad! I'd wear a gown.

Then leave him to his birch;'
And at the Rose on Sunday,
The parson safe at church,

I'll treat you with burgundy.

THE FIVE LADIES' ANSWER TO THE BEAU,

WITH THE WIG AND WINGS AT HIS HEAD.

You thought to make a farce on
The man and place we chose ;
We're sure a single parson
Is worth a hundred beaux.

1 Dr. Sheridan was a schoolmaster.---F.

And you would make us vassals,
Good Mr. Wig and Wings,

To silver clocks and tassels;

You would, you Thing of Things!

Because around your cane
A ring of diamonds is set;
you, in some by-lane,
Have gain'd a paltry grisette;

And

We hate your empty prattle;

And vow and swear 'tis true,
There's more in one child's rattle,
Than twenty fops like you.

THE BEAU'S REPLY

TO THE FIVE LADIES' ANSWER.

WHY, how now, dapper black!

I smell your gown and cassock,

As strong upon your back,

As Tisdall' smells of a sock.

A clergyman in the north of Ireland, who had made proposals of marriage to Stella.---F.

Fine ladies never do't;

I know you well enough,

And eke your cloven foot.

Fine ladies, when they write,

Nor scold, nor keep a splutter:
Their verses give delight,

As soft and sweet as butter.

But Satan never saw

Such haggard lines as these:
They stick athwart my maw,
As bad as Suffolk cheese.

DR. SHERIDAN'S BALLAD ON BALLY

ALL

SPELLIN.' 1728.

you that would refine your blood,

As pure as famed Llewellyn,

By waters clear, come every year
To drink at Ballyspellin.

Though pox or itch your skins enrich

With rubies past the telling,

'Twill clear your skin before you've been

A month at Ballyspellin.

A famous spa in the county of Kilkenny, where the Doctor had been to drink the waters with a favourite lady. --- Anderson.