25 So when a Taylor on the Shopboard fits, Of Galligafkins to repair the Slits, Tormented by the Foe, he Vengeance vows, And with his Spear, a Needle, pricks a Louse. And now a general Tumult reigns thro' all, To Arms, to Arms,' on ev'ry Side they bawl. So loud the Din, fo terrible the Roar, It pierc'd the Earth to Lethe's farther Shore; Shook Pluto's Throne,--who trembled for his Friends, So fkill'd, fo prompt to ferve their mutual Ends. Refolv'd to part them, he afcends to Light, Enters the Room, in folemn Veft bedight. 32 A fable Truncheon his Right-hand difplays, 35 And in his Left four flaming Torches blaze; Rings on his Fingers for departed Friends; Athwart his Breait a filken Scarf defcends; Plumes on his Head, and on his Back he bore, Like Herald's Coat, a Robe efcutcheon'd o'er. 40 An Undertaker aptly he appears : Black is the conftant Drefs Hell's Monarch wears. Thus have we feen, in Pantomimick Tricks, Grim Pluto thro' the Trap-door come from Styx; Black and all black, all difmal is his Suit, 45 And powder'd feems the Peruke's felf with Soot: His Legs alone, with emblematic Aim, In fcarlet-colour'd Hofe affect to Flame. Hold, hold, (he cries,) what means this defp'rate Fray? 50 Will ye yourselves inftead of others flay? 55 What! no acute, no chronical Disease, • What's in a Name? That which we call a Wig, 60 By any other Name would look as big. What's in a Place? Where'er ye had Degrees, Denotes you deeply learn'd, and wond'rous wife. N OTES. 65 Beaume de Vie. A Medicine fo called, which is advertised as a fovereign Remedy against autumnal Complaints. Influenza. A Diftemper which rages in Italy, in the Summer Months. The Term has been adopted in England. V. 58. If ye neglect Your Business, there will be, The two Trades are fo intimately connected, that an eminent Apothecary, whofe eldest Son is brought up to the Father's Profeffion, has, with a prudent Forecaft, bound his youngest Son Apprentice to an Undertaker. V. 60. What's in a Name? That which we call a Wig, By any other Name would look as big. A Parody on the following Lines; What's in a Name? That which we call a Rose, other Name would fmell as fweet. By any ROMEO and JULIET. • Think Think on the Meed, that tickles fweet your Hand, The glitt'ring Meed, no Doctor can withstand. Tho' Doctors differ for the human Tripe • Tho' fome the Purge prefer, and fome the Pipe; Or in th' Inteftines raife the fharp Commotion, 70 Some with a Pill, and others with a Potion; Tho', to apply the Flayer of the Skin, Some hold a Virtue, others hold a Sin; In Antimony fome their Trust repose, And fome in Mercury-to fave a Nofe; In this one Point ye never difagree,Ye're all unanimous-about the Fee 75 Come then, my Friends, (for now methinks I spy A mild Complacency in ev'ry Eye,) • Think on the Meed, that tickles fweet your Hand,80 The glitt'ring Meed, no Doctor can withstand. NOTE S. V. 72. The Flayer of the Skin. • Like A poetical Expreffion for Emplaftr. Epispastic.In plain English, a Blifter. V. 76. In this one Point ye never difagree, About each Symptom how they difagree, - V. 80. Think on the Meed that tickles fweet your Hand, To corroborate the Truth of this Maxim, we fhall take the Liberty of setting down the two following fhort Stories, by Way of Illuftration. The Circum Z 2 Like to the Cur in Afop's Tale display'd, Can Socio boaft a greater Pow'r, or Skill? NOTES. 85 Circumftances required the Stile of the Narration to be more familiar than would fuit with the Dignity of the Reft of the Poem, to have them interwoven in the Body of it. ween, A Doctor once (no Matter whence I From Oxford, Leyden, Cam, or Aberdeen,) Was call'd to vifit one with utmoft Speed; But, when he came, behold! the Patient's dead. "What! dead? Yes, Doctor,-dead,-but here's 'your Fee.' Oh, very well:-'tis all the fame to me.' A Doctor once (O tell it not in Bath, Left Doctor Somebody be much in Wrath,) Soon as he faw the fick Man, fhook his Head,— No Pulfe-no Breath-the Man in fhort was dead.Now as our Doctor kept his filent Stand, The tempting Shiner in the dead Man's Hand He faw, he touch'd--and feizing, 'Tis for me,' He cried, and took his Farewell,—and the Fee. V. 87. Behold! your Patients are to Health reflor'd. * It is very remarkable, that the Decrease of Burials within the Bills of Mortality for the Year 1767, is not less than 1299, owing (it may perhaps be fuppofed) to the Phyficians having been fo much. taken up with Squabbles among themselves. * See the General Bill of Mortality, fet forth by the Parish Clerks, from December 15, 1766, to December 16, 1767. • Ye Ye three-tail'd Sages, ceafe your Disputation, Be Friends, and focial join in Confultation; Each fhake his loaded Noddle with the other, 90 And Brother gravely fmell his Cane with Brother.' He ended, and forthwith to Sight appears A Car triumphal in the Form of Hearte: Six coal-black Steeds drag'd its flow Length along,' Deaf to Aight, Aight, and heedlefs of the Thong. 95 Thefe with dull Pace th' infernal Monarch drew, (Laid flat upon his Back, and hid from View,) In awful Pomp, flow, folemn, fad, and ftill, Thro' Warwick-Lane, and on, (down Ludgate-Hill,) To the Fleet-Market,-whofe ftupendous Ditch 100 A lazy Current rolls, as black as Pitch; From whence a Paffage, difmal, dark, and dank, Leads underneath to Acheron's gloomy Bank. Twelve fable Imps the Vehicle furround, And with lethiferous Nightfhade ftrew the Ground: NOTE S. 105 V. 9o. Each fake his loaded Noddle with the cther, And Brother gravely fmell his Cane with Brother, An Imitation of the following Lines; One Fool lolls his Tongue out at another, V. 94. Six coal-black Steeds 'drag'd its flow Length along, A needlefs Alexandrine ends the Song, And like a wounded Snake, drag'd its flow V. 95. Deaf to Aight, Aight, and heedlefs to the Thong. Aight, Aight-an Expreffion in the Huynhym Language, made Ufe of by Coachmen, &c. in fpeaking to the Horfes, fignifying, Go on. Z3 A ftrong |