Expos'd to every coxcomb's eyes,

But hid with caution from the wise.

Here you may read." Dear charming saint;"
Beneath "A new receipt for paint :'
Here, in beau-spelling, "Tru tel deth ;"
There, in her own, "For an el breth
Here, "Lovely nymph, pronounce my doom !"
There, "A safe way to use perfume:'
Here, a page fill'd with billet doux;
On t'other side, " Laid out for shoes".
"Madam I die without your grace"
“Item, for half a yard of lace."
Who that had wit would place it here,
For every peeping fop to jeer?
To think that your brains' issue is
Expos'd to th' excrement of his,
In power of spittle and a clout,
Whene er he please to blot it out;
And then, to heighten the disgrace,
Clap his own nonsense in the place.
Whoe'er expects to hold his part
In such a book, and such a heart,
If he be wealthy, and a fool,
Is in all points the fittest tool;
Of whom it may be justly said,
He's a gold pencil tipp'd with lead.

MRS FRANCES HARRIS'S PETITION,
1700.

[This, and the following piece of humour, which, in their own peculiar style, will probably never be equalled, were written while Swift was chaplain to Lord Berkeley in Ireland. None of his talents is more remarkable than the ease with which he could assume the character which he best pleased to occupy for the moment, and bind down his powerful genius to the thoughts, sentiments, and expressions of a chambermaid or housekeeper.]

To their excellencies the Lords Justices of Ire land, *

The humble petition of Frances Harris,

Who must starve and die a maid if it miscarries; Humbly sheweth, that I went to warm myself in

Lady Betty's † chamber, because I was cold; And I had in a purse seven pounds, four shillings, and sixpence, besides farthings, in money and gold;

So because I had been buying things for my lady last night,

I was resolv'd to tell my money, to see if it was right.

*The Earls of Berkeley and of Galway.-H.

+ Lady Betty Berkeley, afterwards Germain.-H.

Now, you must know, because my trunk has a very bad lock,

Therefore all the money I have, which, God knows, is a very small stock,

I keep in my pocket, tied about my middle, next my smock.

So when I went to put up my purse, as God would have it, my smock was unripp'd,

And instead of putting it into my pocket, down it slipp'd;

Then the bell rung, and I went down to put my lady to bed;

And, God knows, I thought my money was as safe as my maidenhead.

So, when I came up again, I found my pocket feel very light;

But when I search'd, and miss'd my purse, Lord! I thought I should have sunk outright. "Lord! madam," says Mary, "how d'ye do?""Indeed," says I, "never worse:

But pray, Mary, can you tell what I have done with my purse?"

"Lord help me!" says Mary, "I never stirr'd out of this place!"

"Nay," said I,

I had it in Lady Betty's chamber, that's a plain case.”

So Mary got me to bed, and cover'd me up

warm:

However, she stole away my garters, that I might do myself no harm.

So I tumbled and toss'd all night, as you may very well think,

But hardly ever set my eyes together, or slept a wink.

So I was a dream'd, methought, that I went and search'd the folks round,

And in a corner of Mrs Dukes's box, tied in a rag, the money was found.

So next morning we told Whittle †, and he fell a swearing:

Then my dame Wadger came; and she, you know, is thick of hearing.

"Dame," said I, as loud. I could bawl," do you know what a loss I have had ?"

"Nay," said she, "my Lord Colway's § folks are all very sad:

For

my Lord Dromedary | comes a Tuesday without fail."

"Pugh!" said I, "but that's not the business that I ail."

Says Cary, ¶ says he, “I have been a servant this five and twenty years, come spring, And in all the places I liv'd I never heard of such a thing."

"Yes," says the steward, ** " I remember when I was at my Lady Shrewsbury's,

Such a thing as this happen'd, just about the time of gooseberries,'

* Wife to one of the footmen.-H. The Earl of Berkeley's valet.-H.

The old deaf housekeeper.-H.

§ Galway.-H.

The Farl of Drogheda, who, with the primate, was to succeed the two earls, then lords justices of Ireland.

I Clerk of the kitchen.-H.

** Ferris; whom the poet terms in his Journal a scoundrel dog. Vol. II. p. 115.

So I went to the party suspected, and I found her full of grief:

(Now, you must know, of all things in the world, I hate a thief:)

However, I was resolv'd to bring the discourse slily about:

"Mrs Dukes," said I, "here's an ugly accident has happen'd out:

'Tis not that I value the money three skips of a louse :*

But the thing I stand upon is the credit of the house.

'Tis true, seven pounds, four shillings, and sixpence, makes a great hole in my wages:

Besides, as they say, service is no inheritance in these ages.

Now, Mrs Dukes, you know, and every body understands,

That though 'tis hard to judge, yet money can't go without hands."

"The devil take me!" said she (blessing herself) "if ever I saw't!"

So she roar'd like a bedlam, as though I had call'd her all to naught.

So you know, what could I say to her any more? I e'en left her, and came away as wise as I was before.

Well; but then they would have had me gone to

the cunning man !

No," said I, "'Tis the same thing, the CHAPLAIN will be here anon."

* A usual saying of hers.-H.

+ Swift.-H.