But come, thou baggage fat and free,
By Gentles called Feftivity,
And by us, rolling kiddies-Fun,
Whom Mother Shipton, one by one,
With two Wapping wenches more,
To skipping Harlequino bore.
Or whether, as fome deeper fay,
Jack Pudding, on a holiday,
Along with Jenny Diver romping,
As he met her once a pumping,
There, on heaps of dirt and morter,
And cinders wash'd in cabbage-water,
Fill'd her with thee-a ftrapping laffie,
So fpunky, brazen, bold, and faucy.
Hip!-here, jade! and bring with thee
Jokes and fnigg'ring jollity,
Christmas gambols, waggifh tricks,
Winks, wry faces, licks, and kicks,
Such as fall from Moggy's knuckles,
And love to live about her buckles;
Spunk, that hobbling watchmen boxes,
And Horfelaugh hugging both his doxies;
Come, and kick it as you go-
On the ftumping hornpipe toe;
And in thy right-hand haul with thee
The Mountain brim-French liberty;
And, if I give thee puffing due,
Fun, admit me of thy crew-
To pig with her, and pig with thee,
In everlasting frolicks free;
To hear the sweep begin his beat,
And, fqualling, ftartle the dull ftreet,
From his watch-box-in the alley,
Till the watch, at fix, doth fally,
Then to go, in spite of fleep,
And at the window cry-" Sweep, fweep!"
Thro' the street-door, or the airy,
Or, in the country, thro' the dairy;
While the duftman, with his din,
Bawls, and rings, to be let in ;
And, at the fore, or the back-door,
Slowly plods his jades before,
Oft' hearing the fow-gelder's horn
Harfhly rouse the fnoring morn,
From the fide of fome large fquare,
Thro' the long street gruntling far.
Sometimes walking I'll be feen
By Tow'r-hill, or Moorfields green,
Right against old Bedlam gate,
Where the mock King begins his ftate-
Crown'd with ftraw and rob'd with rags,
Cover'd o'er with jags and tags,
While the Keeper, near at hand,
Bullies thofe that leave their stand;
And milkmaids' fcreams go thro' your ears,
And grinders fharpen rufty fheers,
And ev'ry crier fqualls his cry,
Under each window he goes by.
Straight mine eye hath caught new gambóls,
While round and round this town it rambles;
Sloppy streets and foggy day,
Where the blund'ring folks do stray;
Pavements, on whofe greasy flags
Swearing coachmen flog their nags;
Barbers joftled 'gainst your fide,
Narrow streets and gutters wide.
Grub-street garrets now it fees,
To the Mufe open, and the breeze;
Where, perhaps, fome fcribbler hungers-
The hack of neighbouring newfmongers.
Hard by a tinker's furnace fmokes,
From betwixt two pastry-cooks,
Where dingy Dick and Peggy met,
Are at their fcurvy dinner fet-
Of cow-heel and fuch cellar meffes,
Which the fplay-footed Rachael dreffes ;
And then with hafte her mate fhe leaves,
And, with the boy, the bellows heaves;
Or, if 'tis late, and fhop be fhut,
Scrubs, at the pump, her face from fmut.
Sometimes, all for fights agog,
To t'other end of town I jog,
When St. James's bells ring round,
And the Royal fiddles found;
When ev'ry lord and lady's bum
Jigs it in the drawing-room,
And young and old dance down the tune,
In honour of the fourth of June;
"Till candles fail, and eyes are fore-
Then hie we home to talk it o'er,
With ftories told of many a treat—
How Lady Swab the sweetmeats eat!
She was pinch'd-and fomething worse,
And fhe was fobb'd, and loft her purfe!
Tell how the drudging
To bake his cuftards duly fet,
When in one night, e'er clock went feven,
His 'prentice-lad had robb'd the oven
Of more than twenty hands had put in,
Then lies him down-the little glutton
Stretch'd flumb'ring 'fore the fire, they tell ye,
And bakes the custards in his belly;
Then, crop-fick, down the ftairs he flings-
Before his master's bell yet rings.
Thus, done the tales, to bed they creep,
By hoofs and wheels foon lull'd asleep.
But the city takes me then,
And the hums of busy men,
Where throngs of trainband Captains bold,
In times of peace, fierce meetings hold,
With ftores of stock-jobbers, whofe lies
Work change of stocks and bankruptcies;
While bulls and bears alike contend
To get that cash they dare not spend.
Then let Aldermen appear,
In fcarlet robe with chandelier,
And city feafts and gluttony,
With balls upon the Lord Mayor's day;
Sights that young 'prentices remember
Sleeping and waking all November.
Then to the Playhouses anon,
If Quick or Bannister be on,
Or drolleft Parfons, child of Drury,
Bawls out his damns with comic fury..
And ever against hum-drum cares,
Sing me fome of Dibdin's airs;
Married to his own queer wit,
Such as my fhaking fides may fplit,
In notes, with many a jolly bout,
Near Beaufort's Buildings oft' roar'd out,
With wagging curls, and fmirks fo cunning,
His rig on many a booby running,
Expofing all the ways and phizzes
Of "Wags and Oddities and Quizzes;
That Shuter's felf might heave his head.
From drunken fnoozes, on a bed
Of pot-house benches fprawl'd, and hear
Such laughing fongs as won the ear
Of all the town, his flip to cover,
Whene'er he met 'em half-feas over..
Freaks like thefe if thou canft give,
Fun with thee I wish to live..
LTHOUGH the various paragraphs refpecting
A me which have appeared in the papers, may
have prejudiced the public againft my character, I hope you will do me the juffice to infert this letter, the ob ject of which is to entreat that the public will candidly fufpend their judgment until I have had a fair trial, which I have not yet obtained..
I hope it will appear, Sir, that when all the circumftances of my unhappy affair are laid before the public, they will fee that I have been undone by a variety of feductions which a female can hardly withstand, especially a lone woman like me, who loft my best protectors many years ago. I hope it will appear that I was betrayed in an evil, an unguarded hour, by the flattering tongue of my dear William (dear indeed has he been to me), and that, owing to no fault of mine, I have loft my reputation in the eyes of a cenforious world. But it is not true that I did not make resistance, and my marriage, as it was called, was nothing lefs than a downright rape. As to my own property, the dear perfidious man knew he might command it when he pleased, but to meddle with the property of others entrusted to my care, and leave me nothing but a parcel of rags to give them, was truly cruel.
And why, yuu will fay, did I truft him? Alas! yuu know not what a good young man he was when I first got acquainted with him. Lord, it would have done you good to hear him talk about reformation and сесопоту. I thought, to be fure, I might trust him with untold gold, and fo did thousands at that time; but fome how he got into bad company, and you know what evil communications will do. However, he concealed even this from me a long while, and I never fcrupled to accommodate him when I could, till a few years ago, he took it in his head to quarrel with a neighbour of his, because his house happened to take fire by the neglect of his fervants, and nothing would please my spark but that his neighbour should keep the houfe burning till he put it out. Nay, fuch a notion had he of being an extinguisher, that he even fet fire to his own houfe, and nothing could convince him he was wrong till the fire had got to fuch a head that I don't believe he will be able to fave an article; and I fuppofed he is not insured, for no perfon can find his policy. What is worse, he got into fuch a paffion with fome people who attempted to quench the flames, that
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