Melt them down and for the grease

Of arm and leg take each a piece.

All. Again and again! what are thousands of men!
Whilst the new Bailey drop by itself can hang ten.

3 King. Right of conquests, myriads slain,

Cities burnt, and strong holds ta'en,
Virgins ravished, mothers murthered;
Vice, misery, and mischief furthered,
Anguish torn from parent's breast,
Blood rightly spilt in kings' behest,
The sable hue, the cry of grief,
The neck rope of a little thief,

The torture wrung from rack and wheel,
Death-bearing powder, sharpened steel,
Destruction of the public weal,

Add a tyrant's dark caprice,

And then the mixture sure must please.

All. Again and again! what are thousands of men!

Whilst the Bailey new drop by itself can hang ten.

2 King. Cool it with earth from Waterloo, Where armies died for the favoured few.

Enter SLAUGHTER, with other three kings.

Slaughter. Bravo! Bravo! Well you've done,
These gallants sure'll command the sun.
And now arrange you round the pot,
And soon we'll make the earth too hot
To hold the patriot noisy crowd,
And now let's chaunt a stave aloud.

SONG.

Kings, lean, fat, and tall,
Join each one and all:
Feed our bellies and pride,
And destroy all beside.

2 King. By my well-taught coward fears,
Something human this way nears:

Be it aught that smells of want,

The worst of crimes, begone, avaunt!
But if enriched by yellow clay,

Cheerly enter, welcome stay.

Enter Louis XVIII.

A deed of tyranny!

Louis. How now, ye gluttons: fat and puffed-out kings,
What is't ye do?

All.

Louis. I pray ye, brothers, by our unity,
Howe'er unnatural and wicked, help!

Though slavery, groaning 'neath wrongs piled on wrongs,
Make desperate effort, and uplift its head

With shouts of freedom piercing to our core

Though love of country stride with length'ning step,
And threaten tyranny with nothingness-

Though heaven-born freedom, therefore our despair,
Ring in our ears with ominous intent-

Though bonds and fetters, cast off by our slaves,
As if endowed with sense, encompass us,
And form us all of iron, as our hearts-

Though the fierce whirlwind of the public voice
Do set us up the hate and taunt of men-

Yet do I call for aid and answers' true

To what I ask you.

Louis.

1 King.

Speak

2 King.

Demand

3 King.

We'll answer.

I King

Say if th' hadst rather hear it from our mouths, Or from our masters?

Call 'em let me see 'em.

This couple throw

From flames below,

a King. Pour in blood from the carotid vein,

And shilling penknife gory ta'en
From the murth'rer's' side.

Into the flame.

All.

Thyself in all thy mischief shew.

Apparition of King Charles I with his head under his arm, rises.

Louis. Tell me, thou unknown headless

I King. He knows thy thought;

Hear his speech, but say thou nought.

App. Bourbon, Bourbon, Bourbon! beware all France
Beware thy subjects! look for my advance.

Louis. Thou ancient traitor, thanks for thy good hint,
Thou'st harped my fear aright, but one word more-
I King. He will not be commanded. Here's another
More recent than the first.

Apparition of Louis XVI, with his head under his arm, rises.

App. Bourbon, Bourbon, Bourbon !

Louis. Though thirty dinners smoked upon my board,

App. Spain! War! and Cruelty! Fear nought from France

I'd stay my stomach to hear thee, my Lord.

Till thrice three yards you measure round the paunch.

Louis. Then France look to't, for taxes must run high,
Spain shall have fetters, and a good dinner I.

80

[Descends.

90

[Descends.

Apparition of a Lord, with his throat stuck and a halter round his neck, rises. Louis. What is this,

That rises like the bantling of a thief,

And wears around his neck the guilty mark.

Of ill-spent life and unadvised death?

All. Listen, but speak not.

App. Be bloody, savage. Nurture every crime:
Be deaf to groans: be blind to agony :
Louis shall never sink 'neath mortal hand,
A blow and death were feeble punishment.
Live, Louis, circled by diseases. Gout,
Deep-striking cancer, asthma-drawing cough,
O'er-loaded fat, foul, beastly gluttony,
And every sensual vice the world beholds,
Shall bring thee down unpitied to the tomb;
And o'er thy grave the patriot shall write,
A fool, yet hated; impotent, yet cursed.'

Louis. Heap high the feast; let that man die that dare
Breathe but a sigh in thought of liberty.
Ransack the bowels of too-barren earth

For iron-adamant-eternal ore

To chain the very mind in 'ts judgement seat;

Let Europe groan, let France belch forth her curse,
I live to eat, and eating, scorn her worst!

THE LITERARY EXAMINER

*(?) The Authors' Song.
Moralities. For the Serious and the Simple (July12):—

For the Authors' Catch Club (July 5) - (?) Mysteries and

From the Latin of Milton (August 30, September 6, 13)—(?) On Parting with my Books. Signed 'I'. (September 27.) [Reprinted in Alaric Watts's Poetical Album. 2nd Series, 1829, and there ascribed to L. H.]:

ON PARTING WITH MY BOOKS

Ye dear companions of my silent hours,
Whose pages e'er before my eyes would strew

So many sweet and variegated flowers,

Dear books, awhile, perhaps for e'er, adieu

The dark cloud of misfortune o'er me lours :

No more by winter's fire-in summer's bowers,

My toil-worn mind shall be refresh'd by you.

We part! sad thought; and while the damp devours
Your leaves, and the worm slowly eats them through,
Dull poverty, and its attendant ills,

Wasting of health, vain toil, corroding care,

And the world's cold neglect, which surest kills,
Must be my bitter doom-yet I shall bear

Unmurm'ring, for my good perchance these evils are.

I.

*(?) Stanzas. (Thou silver stream that past me gliding.') [On same page as the foregoing, and also signed 'I'] (September 27).

Marot.

1824

THE EXAMINER

On the Laugh of Madame d'Albret (April 4) On seeing a Pigeon make Love (May 2) Doggerel rhymes on *

Philosopher' (May 30) - Boufflers:

Bacchus in Tuscany, a Dithyrambic Poem, from the Italian of Francesco Redi, with Notes, Original and Select, by Leigh Hunt. [Motto as in text.] London: Printed for John and H. L. Hunt, Tavistock Street. 1825. Fcap. 8vo, pp. xx, 298.

Dedication [as in text], pp. iii, iv.

Preface, pp. v-xix. Text, pp. 1-55. Notes, pp. 57-298.

[In the Notes: Greek Pretenders to Philosophy described.]

The New Monthly Magazine, vol. xiii, p. 424. Verses on a Full-flowing Peruke. Vol. xiv, p. 146. La Fontaine: To the Duchess of Bouillon.

P. 333. Caractacus.

1828

THE COMPANION

The Royal Line (February 6) - * Chapelle's Trip to Languedoc and Provence, in prose and verse, translated (March 19, 26, April 16). Ex. gr.

For betwixt Blaye, Sir, and Jonzac,
There's not a place save Croupignac;
And Croupignac's a fearful spot;
For Croupignac's a place, God wot,
Where half a dozen souls are all
Out of six hundred, great and small,
Whom t'other day a pestilence

(Plague take the plague!) escorted hence;
And these poor half a dozen devils,

Dying of their plaguy evils,

And being stowed into one room,
A villain of a priest must come,
And though surpassing the whole mess
In manifest pestiferousness,

Must needs confess them (what a scene!)
Outside the window,-house between ;
'Catch me inside who can,' quoth he,
'With such a traitorous malady.'

The Dinner Party Anticipated (March 26) - Marot: Yes and No-Brother Lubin (April 9) May-Day, parodied from Milton (April 30):—

Now Sal, the daughter of the scavenger,

Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her

The tinsell'd sweeps, who with their brushes go
Rattling a jig, and hopping to and fro.

Hail, dingy Sal, that dost inspire

Anything but warm desire!

Sims and Jones are of thy dressing;

All the Smiths may boast thy blessing.

Thus we salute thee, to our great disgrace,

And pity thee, and wish thee a wash'd face.

Moschus Love at the Plough (May 7) - Mme Deshoulières: A Kiss in Reason (May 7) A Father Avenged (May 28, June 4)— Redi's Bacchus in Tuscany: extracts (June 18).

1830

THE TATLER

Inquests Extraordinary (September 4) :

Last week a porter died beneath his burden:

Verdict, Found carrying a Gazette" from JERDAN.'

Same day Two gentlewomen died of vapours :
Verdict,--Hair curl'd with Mr. JERDAN's papers.'

Answer to Goldsmith's Epitaph on Ned Purdon (September 6) :-
Our poet mistook in his pitying strain;
For Satan, grown weary of PURDON,
Insisted one day he should venture again;
And the dog took the alias of JERDAN.

The 'Cartilaginous' Author (September 7) :—

Lord! what a dish without salt!
What a terrible morsel is GALT!

All cartilaginous',

No oleaginous,

Not to be swallow'd is GALT.

In vain we take Rhenish or malt,
Or rum, which doth valour exalt;
There's no getting down,
Though in liquor we drown,
This vile cartilaginous GALT.

Oh Colburn, how thumping the fault,
To mix up poor Byron with GALT!
There's a grill in the bard,

But 'tis devilish hard

To make it a garnish for Galt.

No, no, there's no swallowing GALT,
Horrible lazy old GALT;

'Tis past all defining
The horror of dining

On tough, cartilaginous Galt.

[Mr. Trevor Leigh-Hunt has a MS. version of this poem, with a footnote: This was an admonition to Mr. Galt not to continue the unprovoked attacks which he made on me in the course of some absurd criticisms of his on Lord Byron. In these criticisms, not being able to express a sense which he had of something undefinable in the genius of the noble poet, he described it as being "cartilaginous". Mr. Galt turned out to be a good kind of man, when you came to know him, and was author of some works of merit, but criticism and satire were things which he should not have meddled with, especially upon authors in their adversity.']

Song of Fairies robbing an Orchard (September 8) — A noble Pair (September 8) :—
Didst ever see so foggy and absurd an
Author as GALT?

Medical (September 9) :—

Yes, certainly ;-there's JERDAN.

Marot: To a Lady who wished to see him (September 23).

Mme Deshoulières : A Lady's Notion of Village Love (September 28) - Masson de Morvilliers: Marriage à la Mode (September 30) -- Marot: The Abbé and his Valet (October 1) High and Low (October 8) To a Bell-Ringer; Epitaph on an Englishman (October 9) Humanity of a Goddess (October 13) - An Analysis, with occasional Translations, of the Lutrin of Boileau (October 13-15)—

A NEW DUET (October 19)

WITH A CHORUS OF BOOKSELLERS, AND AN OBLIGATO ACCOMPANIMENT ON THE OBOE

'We do not flatter ourselves that we could perform so well in his department, on the oboe, as he has in ours, scribbling; and we give him leave to criticize us when we try, as freely as we have criticized him.'-Literary Gazette.

Song (imitated from Marot) (October 30) A Wise Death (November 2) - The Essence of Opera (November 8) Alter et Idem (November 13) - The Infallible Remedy (November 15) - Epitaph on a Clerical Dandy, from the French (November 16):—

Here lies the Abbé Demi-man

Who died of the blow of a lady's fan.

Meleager. The Triple Lover (November 17) — Physician, heal thyself (November 24) Portion of a Legitimate Drama (December 2) - The Kings of France (December 23).