Oh, may I fee her foon difpenfing
Her favours to fome broken enfign!
Him let her marry, for his face,
And only coat of tarnish'd lace
To turn her naked out of doors,
And fpend her jointure on his whores,
But, for a parting prefent, leave her
A rooted pox to last for ever!

AN EXCELLENT NEW BALLAD;

TRUE

OR THE

ENGLISH DEAN

TO BE HANGED FOR A RAPE. 1730.

I.

UR brethren of England, who love us fo dear,

OUR

And in all they do for us fo kindly do mean, (A bleffing upon them!) have 'fent us this year For the good of our church, a true English Dean A holier priest ne'er was wrapt up in crape, The worst you can fay, he committed a rape.

II.

In his journey to Dublin, he lighted at Chester,

And there he grew fond of another man's wife; Burft into her chamber, and would have carefs'd her But the valued her honour much more than her life. She buftled and struggled, and made her escape To a room full of guests, for fear of a rape.

*Sawbridge, Dean of Fernes. F.

III. The

III.

The Dean he pursued, to recover his game;

And now to attack her again he prepares : But the company stood in defence of the dame,

They cudgel'd, and cuft him, and kick'd him down ftairs.

His Deanship was now in a damnable scrape,
And this was no time for committing a rape.

IV.

To Dublin he comes, to the bagnio he goes,
And orders the landlord to bring him a whore ;
No fcruple came on him his gown to expose,

'Twas what all his life he had practis'd before. He had made himself drunk with the juice of the grape, And got a good clap, but committed no rape.

N.

The Dean, and his landlord a jolly comrade,
Refolv'd for a fortnight to swim in delight;
For why, they had both been brought up to the trade
Of drinking all day, and of whoring all night.
His landlord was ready his Deanfhip to ape
In every debauch but committing a rape.

VI.

This Proteftant zealot, this English divine,

In church and in ftate was of principles found; Was truer than Steele to the Hanover line,

And griev'd that a Tory should live above ground. Shall a fubject fo loyal be hang'd by the nape,

For no other crime but committing a rape?

VII.

By old Popish canons, as wife men have penn'd 'em,
Each priest had a concubine, jure écclefiæ ; *
Who 'd be Dean of Fernes without a commendam'?
And precedents we can produce, if it please ye :
Then why should the Dean, when whores are fo cheap,
Be put to the peril and toil of a rape?

VIII.

If fortune fhould please but to take fuch a crotchet
(To thee I apply, great Smedley's fucceffor)
To give thee lawn fleeves, a mitre, and rochet,

Whom wouldst thou refemble? I leave thee a gueffer.
But I only behold thee in Atherton's * shape,
For fodomy hang'd; as thou for a rape.

IX.

Ah! doft thou not envy the brave colonel Chartres,
Condemn'd for thy crime at threesçore-and-ten ?
To hang him, all England would lend him their garters,
Yet he lives, and is ready to ravish again.
Then throttle thyfelf with an ell of strong tape,
For thou haft not a groat to atone for a rape.

X.

The Dean he was vex'd that his whores were fo willing:
He long'd for a girl that would ftruggle and fquall;
He ravish'd her fairly, and fav'd a good filling;
But here was to pay the devil and all.
His trouble and forrows now come in a heap,
And hang'd he must be for committing a rape,

A bishop of Waterford, of infamous character. N.

XI.

If maidens are ravifh'd, it is their own choice:

Why are they fo wilful to ftruggle with men ?
If they would but lie quiet, and stifle their voice,

No Devil nor Dean could ravish them then.
Nor would there be need of a strong hempen cape
Ty'd round the Dean's neck for committing a rape.
XII.

Our Church and our State dear England maintains,
For which all true Proteftant hearts fhould be glad
She fends us our Bishops and Judges and Deans;
And better would give us, if better she had.
But, lord! how the rabble will ftare and will gape,
When the good English Dean is hang'd up

for

a rape !

ON STEPHEN DUCK,

THE THRESHER AND FAVOURITE POET.

A QUIBBLING EPIGRAM, 1730.

THE

HE thresher Duck could o'er the Queen prevail, The proverb fays, no fence against a flail. From threshing corn he turns to threb his brains; For which her Majesty allows him grains. Though 'tis confest, that those, who ever faw His poems, think them all not worth a fira!

Thrice happy Duck, employ'd in threshing Stubble t Thy toil is leffen'd, and thy profits double.

THE

THE LADY'S DRESSINGROOM. 1730.

FIVE hours (and who can do it lefs in?)

By haughty Calia spent in dreffing;
The Goddefs from her chamber iffues,
Array'd in lace, brocades, and tissues.
Strephon, who found the room was woid,
And Betty otherwife employ'd,
Stole in, and took a strict survey
Of all the litter as it lay:

Whereof, to make the matter clear,
An inventory follows here.

And, firft, a dirty fmock appear'd,
Beneath the arm-pits well befmear'd;
Strephon, the rogue, display'd it wide,
And turn'd it round on every fide :
In fuch a cafe, few words are best,
And Strephon bids us guefs the reft;
But fwears, how damnably the men lie
In calling Cælia fweet and cleanly.

Now liften, while he next produces
The various combs for various ufes
Fill'd-up with dirt fo clofely fixt,
No brush could force a way betwixt ;
A paste of compofition rare,

Sweat, dandriff, powder, lead, and hair.
A forehead-cloth with oil upon't,

To fmooth the wrinkles on her front:

Here