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Der. At an old stubborn root I chanc'd to tug, 25 When the Dean threw me this tobacco plug ; A longer ha'-p'orth never did I see ; This, dearest Sheelah, thou shalt share with me.
She. In at the pantry door this morn I flipt, And from the shelf a charming cruft I whipt; 30 Dennis was out, and I got hither safe; And thou, my dear, falt have the bigger half.
Der. When you saw Tady at long bullet's play, You fat and lous'd him all the sun-fhine day. How could you, Sheelah, listen to his táles, 35 Or crack such lice as his between your nails ?
She. When you with Oonah stood behind a ditch, I peep'd, and saw you kiss the dirty bitch. Dermot, how could you touch those nafty sluts ! I almost wish'd this spud were in your guts. 40
Der. If Oonah once I kiss'd, forbear to chide:
She. Dermot, I swear tho' Tady's locks could hold
Der. Oh ! could I earn for thee, my lovely.lafs, A pair of brogues to bear thee dry to mass ! 50 But see where Norah with the fowins comes Then let us rise, and rest our weary bums.
• Sir Arthur's butler.
WELL, if ever I faw fuch another man since my You a gentleman !- marry come up, I wonder where
you were bred. I am sure such words do not become a man of your
cloth; I would not give such language to a dog, faith and troth. cali'd
my master a knave: fie, Mr Sheridan! 'tis a shame
5 For a parfon, who should know better things, to come
out with such a name: Knave in your teeth, Mr Sheridan! 'tis both a shame
and a sin; And the Dean my master is an honefter man than you
and all your kin: He has more goodness in his little finger, than you
have in your whole body : My maiter is a personable man, and not a spindle
fhank'd hoddy-doddy. And now, whereby I find you would fain make an
excuse, Because my master one day, in anger, called you
goose ; Which, and I am sure, I have been his servant four
years fince October, And he never calld me worse than sweet- heart, drunk
or sober : Not that I know his Reverence was ever concern'd to my knowledge,
15 Tho you and your come-rogues keep him out so late
in your wicked college. You say you will eat grass on his grave: a Christian
eat grass! Whereby you now confess yourself to be a goose or
an ass :
- MAID'S LETTER. But that's as much as to say, that my master should
die before ye;' Well, well, that's as God pleases; and I don't be
lieve that's a true story: And fo say I told you so, and you may go tell my
matter; what care ? And I don't care who knows it ; 'tis all one to Mary. Every body knows, that I love to tell truth, and
shame the devil. I am but a poor servant; but I think gentlefolks
should be civil. Besides, you found fault with our victuals one day that you was here ;
25 I remember it was on a Teusday, of all days in the
year. And Saunders the man says you are always jefting
and mocking : Mary, said he, (one day as I was mending my ma
fter's stocking), My master is fo fond of that minifter that keeps the
school I thought my master a wise man, but that man makes him a fool
30 Saunders, said I, I would rather than a quart of ale He would come into our kitchen, and I would pin a
dishclout to his tail.
fifter Marget, The writes better. : Well, but I muit run and make the bed, before my master comes from pray’rs ;
35 And tee now, it strikes ten, and I hear him coming
up stairs :
Whereof I could say more to your verses, if I could
write written hand : And so I'remain, in a civil way, your servant to command,
A DIALOGUE between Mad MULLI
NIX and TIMOTHY.
Written in the year 1728.
Own', 'tis not my bread and butter ;
But pr’ythee, Tim, why all this clutter?
and Gdamn the liars. M. The Tories are gone ev'ry man over To our illustrious house of Hanover ;
- damn the liars again.
15 M. Lord ! how this frothy coxcomb frets ! [afide.
T. Did not an able statesman bishop This dang'rous horrid motion dish-up As Popish craft ? did he not rail on't? Shew fire and faggot in the tail on't ?
20 Proving the Earl a grand offender, And in a plot for the Pretender, Whose fleet, 'tis all our friends opinion, Was then embarking at Avignon.
M. These brangling jars of Whig and Tory 25 Are ftale, and worn as Troy-town story. The wrong, 'tis certain, you were both in, And now you find you fought for nothing. VOL. VI.
* See Tim and the fables, in vol. vii.
Your faction, when their game was new,
when all the show is past,
in their eye,
• Sir Martin Marall is a character in one of Dryden's comedies. Sir Martin was to serenade his mistrels; but as he could not play, his man undertook to conceal himself, and do it for him, while he should thrum the instrument; but this ingenious projet miscarried, by the knight's continuing his exercise when the music was at an end. Huwkes,