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The THIEF and the CORDELIER, a BALLAD; to the Tune of,

King JOHN and the Abbot of CANTERBURY.

WHO has e'er been at Paris, must needs know the


The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate brave;
Where Honour and Justice most oddly contribute,
To eafe Hero's pains by a halter and gibbet.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.

There Death breaks the fhackles which Force had put on;
And the Hangman compleats what the Judge but begun;
There the Squire of the Pad, and the Knight of the Poft,
Find their pains no more balk'd, and their hopes no
more croft.

Derry down, &c.

Great claims are there made, and great fecrets are known; And the king, and the law, and the thief, has his own; But my hearers cry out, What a duce doft thou ail? Cut off thy reflections; and give us thy tale.

Derry down, &c.

'Twas there then, in civil refpect to harsh laws, And for want of falfe witnefs to back a bad cause, A Norman, though late, was oblig'd to appear: And who to affift, but a grave Cordelier ?

Derry down, &c.




The Squire, whofe good grace was to open the scene, Seem'd not in great haste that the show should begin: Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart;

And often took leave, but was loth to depart.
Derry down, &c.

- What frightens you thus, my good fon? fays the Priest;
You murder'd, are forry, and have been confeft.
O father! my forrow will scarce fave my bacon:
For 'twas not that I murder'd, but that I was taken.
Derry down, &c.

Pough! pr'ythee ne'er trouble thy head with fuch fancies:

Rely on the aid you shall have from Saint Francis :
If the money you promis'd be brought to the cheft,
You have only to die: let the church do the rest.
Derry down, &c.

And what will folks fay, if they see you afraid?
It reflects upon me, as I knew not my trade :
Courage, friend; for to-day is your period of forrow;
And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow.
Derry down, &c.

To-morrow! our Hero replied in a fright :

He that's hang'd before noon, ought to think of tonight.

Tell your beads, quoth the Priest, and be fairly trufs'd up, For you furely to-night shall in Paradise fup.

Derry down, &c.


Alas! quoth the Squire, howe'er fumptuous the treat, Parbleu! I fhall have little ftomach to eat ;

I should therefore esteem it great favour and grace,
Would you be fo kind as to go in my place.
Derry down, &c.

That I would, quoth the Father, and thank you to boot;
But our actions, you know, with our duty must fuit.
The feaft I propos'd to you, I cannot tafte;
For this night, by our order, is mark'd for a fast.
Derry down, &c.

Then, turning about to the hangman, he faid,
Dispatch me, I pr'ythee, this troublesome blade:
For thy cord and my cord both equally tie;
And we live by the gold for which other men die.
Derry down, &c.




HILST I am scorch'd with hot defire,
In vain cold friendship you return;

Your drops of pity on my fire,

Alas! but make it fiercer burn.

Ah! would you have the flame fuppreft,
That kills the heart it heats too faft,
Take half my paffion to your breaft;
The reft in mine fhall ever last.


"Stet quicunque volet potens

"Aule culmine lubrico, &c."



[NTERR'D beneath this marble ftone
Lie fauntering Jack and idle Joan.
While rolling threefcore years and one
Did round this globe their courses run ;
If human things went ill or well;
If changing empires rofe or fell;
The morning paft, the evening came,
And found this couple ftill the fame.
They walk'd, and eat, good folks: what then?
Why then they walk'd and eat again
They foundly flept the night away:
They did juft nothing all the day:
And, having bury'd children four,
Would not take pains to try for more :
Nor fifter either had nor brother;
They feem'd juft tally'd for each other,
Their moral and œconomy

Moft perfectly they made agree:
Each virtue kept its proper bound,
Nor trefpafs'd on the other's ground.
Nor fame nor cenfure they regarded:
They neither punish'd nor rewarded.
He car'd not what the footmen did:
Her maids fhe neither prais'd nor chid:

So every fervant took his courfe;

And, bad at firft, they all grew worse.
Slothful diforder fill'd his stable ;
And fluttish plenty deck'd her table.

Their beer was frong; their wine was port:
Their meal was large; their grace was short.
They gave the poor the remnant meat,
Juft when it grew not fit to eat.

They paid the church and parish rate;
And took, but read not, the receit :
For which they claim their Sunday's due,
Of lumbering in an upper pew.

No man's defects fought they to know;
So never made themfelves a foe.

No man's good deeds did they commend ;
So never rais'd themfelves a friend.
Nor cherish'd they relations poor;

That might decrease their present store:
Nor barn nor houfe did they repair;
That might oblige their future heir.

They neither added nor confounded;
They neither wanted nor abounded.
Each Christmas they accompts did clear,
And wound their bottom round the year.
Nor tear nor fmile did they employ
At news of public grief or joy.

When bells were rung, and bonfires made;
If ask'd, they ne'er deny'd their aid:
Their jug was to the ringers carried;
Whoever either died or married.

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