THE MAD LOVER

I'LL' from my breaft tear fond defire,

Since Laura is not mine:

I'll ftrive to cure the amorous fire,
And quench the flame with wine.

Perhaps in groves and cooling fhade
Soft flumbers I may find:

There all the vows to Laura made
Shall vanish with the wind.

The fpeaking ftrings and charming fong

My paffion may remove:

Oh, Mufick will the pain prolong,

I'll fearch heaven, earth, hell, feas, and air,

And that fhall fet me free:

Oh, Laura's image will be there

Where Laura will not be.

My foul must still endure the pain,
And with fresh torment rave:
For none can ever break the chain
That once was Laura's flave.

THE

THE SOLDIER'S WEDDING.

A SOLILOQUY by NAN THRASHERWELL.

Being Part of a Play called "The New Troop."

My dear Thratherwell, you're gone to fea,
And happiness must ever banish'd be

From our flock-bed, our garret, and from me!
Perhaps he is on land at Portsmouth now

In the embraces of fome Hampshire Sow,
Who, with a wanton pat, cries, "Now, my Dear,
"You 're wishing for fome Wapping doxy here."
"Pox on them all! but moft on bouncing Nan,
"With whom the torments of my life began :
"She is a bitter one!" You lye, you Rogue;.
You are a treacherous, falfe, ungrateful dog.
Did not I take you up without a fhirt?
Woe worth the hand that scrubb'd off all

Did not my intereft lift you in the Guard?
And had not you ten fhillings, my reward?
Did I not then, before the Serjeant's face,

your

dirt!

Treat Jack, Tom, Will, and Martin, with difgrace?
And Thrafherwell before all others chufe,
When I had the whole Regiment to louse.
Curs'd be the day when you produc'd 'your sword,
The just revenger of your injur'd word!
The martial Youth round in a circle ftood,

With envious looks of love, and itching blood:

}

You,

6

You, with fome oaths that fignified confent,

Cried "Tom is Nan's!" and o'er the fword you went.
Then I with fome more modefty would step:
The Enfign thumb'd my bum, and inade me leap.
I leap'd indeed; and you prevailing men

Leave us no power of leaping back again.

THE OLD CHEESE.

YOUNG Slouch the Farmer had a jolly Wife,

That knew all the conveniencies of life,

Whofe diligence and cleanliness supplied
The wit which Nature had to him denied:

But then she had a tongue that would be heard,
And make a better man than Slouch afeard.
This made cenforious perfons of the town
Say, Slouch could hardly call his foul his own:
For, if he went abroad too much, the 'd use
To give him flippers, and lock up his fhoes.
Talking he lov'd, and ne'er was more afflicted
Than when he was difturb'd or contradicted:
Yet ftill into his ftory fhe would break

With, "Tis not fo pray give me leave to speak."
His friends thought this was a tyrannic rule,
Not differing much from calling of him fool;
Told him, he muft exert himself, and be

In fact the master of his family.

He said, "That the next Tuesday noon would show "Whether he were the lord at home, or no;

"When

"When their good company he would intreat "To well-brew'd ale, and clean, if homely, meat." With aching heart home to his wife he goes, And on his knees does his rafh act disclose, And prays dear Sukey, that, one day at least, He might appear as mafter of the feast.

"I'll grant your wifh," cries fhe, " that you may fee " "Twere wisdom to be govern'd still by me.” The guests upon the day appointed came,

Each bowfy Farmer with his fimpering dame.
"Ho! Sue!" cries Slouch, "why doft not thou appear!
"Are these thy manners when Aunt Snap is here?"
"I pardon afk," fays Sue; "I'd not offend
"Any my dear invites, much lefs his friend.".
Slouch by his kinfman Gruffy had been taught
To entertain his friends with finding fault,
And make the main ingredient of his treat
His faying, "There was nothing fit to eat. :
"The boil'd Pork stinks, the roaft Beef 's not enough,
"The Bacon's rusty, and the Hens are tough;

"The Veal 's all rags, the Butter 's turn'd to Oil;
“And thus I buy good meat for fluts to spoil.
"'Tis we are the firft Slouches ever fate
"Down to a Pudding without Plumbs or Fat.
"What Teeth or Stomach 's ftrong enough to feed
"Upon a
Goofe my Grannum kept to breed?

Why muft old Pidgeons, and they ftale, he dreft,
"When there's so many fquab ones in the nest?
"This Beer is four; this mufty, thick, and ftale,
"And worse than any thing, except the Ale."

Sue

Sue all this while many excuses made:
Some thing's the own'd; at other times the laid
The fault on chance, but oftener on the maid.

}

Then Cheefe was brought. Says Slouch, "This c'en "fhall roll:

"

"I'm fure 'tis hard enough to make a Bowl:
“This is Skim-milk, and therefore it shall go;
"And this, because 'tis Suffolk, follow too."
But now Sue's patience did begin to waste ;
Nor longer could diffimulation laft.
"Pray let me rife," fays Sue, " my dear: I'll find
"A Cheese perhaps may be to Lovy's mind."
Then in an entry, ftanding close, where he
Alone, and none of all his friends, might fee ;
And brandishing a cudgel he had felt,
And far enough on this occafion fmelt;

"I'll try, my joy!" she cried, "if I can please
"My Deareft with a tafte of his Old Cheefe "

Slouch turn'd his head, faw his wife's vigorous handı Wielding her oaken fapling of command,

Knew well the twang: "Is 't the Old Cheese, my Dear?. "No need, no need of Cheefe," cries Slouch: "I'llfwear, “I think I've din'd as well as iny Lord Mayor !".

Tw

THE SKILLET.

WO neighbours, Clod and Jolt, would married be; But did not in their choice of Wives agree. Clod thought a Cuckold was a monstrous beast, With two huge glaring eyes and spreading creft:

There