Puslapio vaizdai

Sympathy! horror! and wonderment !
"Catch the Villain !" (But Nobody went.)

Hosier's wife led into the Bar;
(That's where the best strong waters are !)

Followed the tale of the hundred-and-one
Things that Somebody ought to have done.

Ensign (of BRAGG's) made a terrible clangour:
But for the Ladies had drawn his hanger!

Robber, of course, was "BEAU BROCADE";
Out-spoke DOLLY the Chambermaid.

Devonshire DOLLY, plump and red,
Spoke from the gallery overhead ;—

Spoke it out boldly, staring hard :— "Why didn't you shoot then, GEORGE the Guard ?"

Spoke it out bolder, seeing him mute :

"GEORGE the Guard, why did n't you shoot ?"

Portly JOHN grew pale and red,

(JOHN was afraid of her, people said ;)

Gasped that "DOLLY was surely cracked,"
JOHN was afraid of her—that's a fact !)

GEORGE the Guard grew red and pale,
Slowly finished his quart of ale :-

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"Shoot? Why-Rabbit him!-did n't he shoot ?" Muttered-" The Baggage was far too 'cute!"

"Shoot? Why he 'd flashed the pan in his eye!"
Muttered-"She'd pay for it by and by!"
Further than this made no reply.

Nor could a further reply be made,

For GEORGE was in league with "BEAU BROCADE"!

And JOHN the Host, in his wakefullest state,
Was not-on the whole-immaculate.

But nobody's virtue was over-nice

When WALPOLE talked of "a man and his price ";

And wherever Purity found abode,

'Twas certainly not on a posting road.


"Forty" followed to "Thirty-nine." Glorious days of the Hanover line!

Princes were born, and drums were banged; Now and then batches of Highwaymen hanged.

"Glorious news!"-from the Spanish Main; PORTO-BELLO at last was ta'en.

"Glorious news !"-for the liquor trade; Nobody dreamed of "BEAU BROCADE."

People were thinking of Spanish Crowns;
Money was coming from seaport towns!

Nobody dreamed of ❝ BEAU BROCADE,” (Only DOLLY the Chambermaid !)

Blessings on VERNON! Fill up the cans; Money was coming in "Flys" and " Vans."

Possibly, JOHN the Host had heard ;
Also, certainly, GEORGE the Guard.

And DOLLY had possibly tidings, too,
That made her rise from her bed anew,

Plump as ever, but stern of eye,
With a fixed intention to warn the "Fly."

Lingering only at JOHN his door,
Just to make sure of a jerky snore;

Saddling the gray mare, Dumpling Star;
Fetching the pistol out of the bar;

(The old horse-pistol that, they say, Came from the battle of Malplaquet;)

Loading with powder that maids would use, Even in "Forty," to clear the flues;

And a couple of silver buttons, the Squire
Gave her, away in Devonshire.

These she wadded-for want of better

With the B-SH-P of L-ND-N's "Pastoral Letter";

Looked to the flint, and hung the whole,
Ready to use, at her pocket-hole.

Thus equipped and accoutred, DOLLY
Clattered away to "Exciseman's Folly";-

Such was the name of a ruined abode,
Just on the edge of the London road.

Thence she thought she might safely try,
As soon as she saw it, to warn the "Fly."

But, as chance fell out, her rein she drew,
As the BEAU came cantering into the view.

By the light of the moon she could see him drest
In his famous gold-sprigged tambour vest;

And under his silver-gray surtout,

The laced, historical coat of blue,

That he wore when he went to London-Spaw,

Out-spoke DOLLY the Chambermaid,
(Trembling a little, but not afraid,)
"Stand and Deliver, O 'BEAU BROCADE'!"

But the BEAU rode nearer, and would not speak,
For he saw by the moonlight a rosy cheek;

And a spavined mare with a rusty hide;
And a girl with her hand at her pocket-side.

So never a word he spoke as yet,
For he thought 'twas a freak of MEG or BET;-
A freak of the "Rose" or the "Rummer" set.

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