By the Author.
SPOKEN BY MR. WOODWARD AND MR. QUICK.
Enter Serjeant-at-law, and Attorney following, and giving a paper.
Serj. Whats here!a vile cramp hand! I cannot see
Without my spectacles.
Att. He means his fee.
Nay, Mr. Serjeant, good sir, try again.
Serj. The scrawl improves! [more] O come, tis pretty plain.
Hey! hows this? Dibble!sure it cannot
A poets brief! a poet and a fee!
Att. Yes, sir! though you without reward, I know,
Would gladly plead the Muses cause.
Att. And if the fee offends your wrath should fall
Serj. Dear Dibble, no offence at all.
Att. Some sons of Phbus in the courts we meet,
Serj. And fifty sons of Phbus in the Fleet!
Att. Nor pleads he worse, who with a decent sprig
Of bays adorns his legal waste of wig.
Serj. Full-bottomed heroes thus, on signs, unfurl
A leaf of laurel in a grove of curl!
Yet tell your client,
that, in adverse days,
This wig is warmer than a bush of bays.
Att. Do you, then, sir, my clients place supply,
Profuse of robe, and prodigal of tie
Do you, with all those
blushing powers of face,
And wonted bashful hesitating grace,
Rise in the court and flourish on the case.
Serj. For practice then supposethis brief will show it,
Me, Serjeant Woodward,counsel for the poet.
to the ground, I know tis hard to deal
With this dread court, from whence theres no appeal;
here, to blunt the edge of law,
Or, damnd in equity, escape by flaw:
But judgment given, your sentence
No writ of error liesto Drury Lane!
when so kind you seem, tis past dispute
We gain some favour, if not costs of suit.
No spleen is here!
I see no hoarded fury;
I think I never faced a milder jury!
Sad else our plight! where frowns are transportation,
hiss the gallows, and a groan damnation!
But such the public candour, without fear
My client waives all
right of challenge here.
No newsman from our session is dismissd,
Nor wit nor critic we scratch off the
His faults can never hurt anothers ease,
His crime, at worst, a bad attempt to please:
Thus, all respecting,
he appeals to all,
And by the general voice will stand or fall.
By the Author
SPOKEN ON THE TENTH NIGHT, BY MRS. BULKLEY
Granted our cause, our suit and trial oer,
The worthy serjeant need appear no more:
In pleasing I a different
He served the PoetI would serve the Muse.
Like him, Ill try to merit your applause,