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So when Troy chairmen bore the wooden steed,
Pregnant with Greeks impatient to be freed,
(Those bully Greeks, who, as the moderns do,
Instead of paying chairmen, ran them through,)
Laocoon struck the outside with his spear,
And each imprison'd hero quak’d for fear.

Now from all parts the swelling kennels flow,
And bear their trophies with them as they go :
Filths of all hues and odours seem to tell
What street they sail'd from by their sight and smell.
They, as each torrent drives, with rapid force,
From Smithfield or St. 'Pulchre's shape their course,
And in huge confluence join’d at Snowhill ridge,
Fall from the conduit prone to Holborn bridge.
Sweepings from butchers' stalls, dung, gu and

[mu, Drown'd puppies, stinking sprats, all drench'd in Dead cats, and turnip-tops, come tumbling down

the flood.




How blest is he who for his country dies,
Since Death pursues the coward as he flies !
The youth in vain would fly from fate's attack,
With trembling knees and terrour at his back;
Though fear should lend him pinions like the wind,
Yet swifter fate will seize him from behinde

Virtue repuls’d, yet knows not to repine,
But shall with unattainted honour shine ;
Nor stoops to take the staff *, nor lays it down,
Just as the rabble please to smile or frown.

Virtue, to crown her favourites, loves to try
Some new unbeaten passage to the sky;
Where Jove a seat among the gods will give
To those who die for meriting to live.

Next, faithful silence hath a sure reward ; Within our breast be every secret barr'd! He who betrays his friend, shall never be Under one roof, or in one ship, with me. For who with traitors would his safety trust, Lest, with the wicked, Heaven involve the just ? And, though the villain 'scape awhile, he feels Slow vengeance, like a blood-hound, at his heels.

MRS. HARRIS'S PETITION. 1699. To their excellencies the lords justices of Ireland ,

the humble petition of Frances Harris, Who must starve, and die a maid, if it miscarries ;

Humbly showeth, That I went to warm myself in Lady Betty's † cham

ber, because I was cold; And I had in a purse seven pounds, four shillings,

and sixpence, besides farthings, in money and gold:

* The ensign of the lord treasurer's office. + The Earls of Berkeley and of Galway. | Lady Betty Berkeley, afterwards Germaine.

So, because I had been buying things for my lady

last night, 1 was resolv'd to tell my money, to see if it was

right. Now, you must know, because my trunk has a very

bad lock, Therefore all the money I have, which, God knows,

is a very small stock, I keep in my pocket, ty'd about my middle, next to

my smock. So when I went to put up my purse, as God would

have it, my smock was unript, And, instead of putting it into my pocket, down it


Then the bell rung, and I went down to put my lady

to bed; And, God knows, I thought my money was as safe

as my maidenhead. So, when I came up again, I found my pocket feel

very light : But when I search'd, and miss'd my purse, Lord!

I thought I should have sunk outright. Lord ! madam, says Mary, how d' ye do? Indeed,

says I, never worse : But pray, Mary, can you tell what I have done

with my purse ? Lord help me! said Mary, I never stirr'd out of

this place : Nay, said I, I had it in Lady Betty's chamber, that's

a plain case. So Mary got me to bed and cover'd me up warm : However, she stole away my garters, that I might

do myself no harm.

So I tumbled and toss'd all night, as you inay very

well think, But hardly ever set my eyes together, or slept a

wink. So I was a-dream'd, methought, that we went and

search'd the folks round, And in a corner of Mrs. Dukes's * box, ty'd in a rag,

the money was found. So next morning we told Whittle t, and he fell

a-swearing : Then my dame Wadger | came; and she, you know,

is thick of hearing. Dame, said I, as loud as I could bawl, do you know

what a loss I have had ? Nay, said she, my Lord Colway's & folks are all very


For my Lord Dromedary || comes a Tuesday with

out fail. Pugh! said I, but that 's not the business that I ail, Says Cary 1, says he, I have been a servant this five

and twenty years, come spring, And in all the places I liv’d, I never heard of such

a thing

* Wife to one of the footmen.
+ Earl of Berkeley's valet.
# The old deaf housekeeper.
§ Galway

| The Earl of Drogheda, who, with the primate, was to succeed the two earls.

Clerk of the kitchen.

Yes, says the steward *, I remember, when I was

at my Lady Shrewsbury's, Such a thing as this happen’d just about the time of

gooseberries. So I went to the party suspected, and I found her

full of grief, (Now, you must know, of all things in the world,

I hate a thief.) However, I am resolv’d to bring the discourse slily

about: Mrs. Dukes, said I, here 's an ugly accident has

happen'd out: 'Tis not that I value the money three skips of a

louse † ; But the thing I stand upon is the credit of the

house. 'Tis true, seven pounds, four shillings, and sixpence,

makes a great hole in my wages : Besides, as they say, service is no inheritance in

these ages.

Now, Mrs. Dukes, you know, and every body

understands, That though 'tis hard to judge, yet money can't go

without hands. The devil take me! said she (blessing herself) if

ever I saw 't! So she roar'd like a Bedlam, as though I had callid

her all to naught.

An usual saying of hers.

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