G. M. Ay,—I shall answer all the rest as well.
E. M. I doubt it not. G. M. On Se—s next you fell:
Fie! that was paw—Se—s are sacred Things,
And no more capable of Ill than—Kings.
E. M. 'Tis granted. G. M. Yet at them your Gall is spit;
You're told they Yea and No as I think fit;
And that if some brave One Rebellious prov'd,
From his Lord's Banquet he was strait remov'd;
Cast into utter Darkness, like the Guest,
Who was not in a Wedding Garment Dress'd.
Well, What of that? should not the Blind be led?
Should not so vast a Body have a Head?
And if one Finger's gangreen'd, sure 'tis best
To lop it off 'ere it infect the rest.
Free P——ts! mere stuff—What would be done?
Let loose, five hundred diff'rent Ways they'd run;
They'd Cavil, Jarr, Dispute, O'return, Project,
And the great Bus'ness of Supply Neglect;
On Grievances, not Ways and Means would go;
Nor one round Vote of Credit e're bestow:
The sinking Fund would strangely be apply'd,
And secret service Money quite denied:
Whilst Soap and Candles we untax'd should rue,
And Salt itself would lose it's Savour too:
Ev'n Gin would then be drank without controul,
And the poor civil List be ne're lick'd whole.
Down go all Pensioners, all Placemen down.
Those lov'd and trusty Servants of the Crown,
Who're always ready at their Chief's Command,
Would have no Vote to save the sinking Land:
Ev'n Levy's Bench might lose it's sacred Weight,
Remov'd, O sad Translation! from the State.
Then Pen's like yours would freely vent their Rage,
No License on the Press, or on the Stage;
Whilst loyal Gazetteer's, tho' ne're so witty,
No more might chasten the Rebellious City:
No more sage Freeman trumpet out my Fame,
Nor unstamp'd Farthing-Posts my worth proclaim.
E. M. Indeed—such dire Calamities attend!
O worse, Sir, worse—Heav'n knows where it might end.
Perhaps Ourself and our dear Brother too,
No longer might our Country's Business do—
E. M. That, Sir, you've done already—rather, then,
Your Business would be done. G. M. Ungrateful Men!
We that have serv'd you at such vast Expence, }
And gone thro' thick and thin. E. M. There's no Defence, }
Would serve your Purpose—Hence, then, good Sirs, Hence; }
Fly, for the Evil Days at Hand, Pray fly—
G. M. What leave my Country to be lost?—Not I;
The Danger's yet but in Imagination,
I hope one Seven Years more to save the Nation.
In vain you Patriot Oafs pronounce my Fall,
Like the great Laureat, S'Blood I'll stand you all.
What tho' you've made the People loath my Name,
I live not on such slender Food as Fame;
And yet that People's mine—My Will obey, }
Implicit Bow beneath my sovereign Sway, }
Whilst these my Messengers prepare my Way; }
These all your Slanders will at Sight refute,
They're sterling Evidence which none dispute.
For these, Content, or to be Damn'd or Sav'd—
E. M.—Nay if they will, why let 'em be enslav'd:
If they will barter all that's Good and Great,
For present Pelf, nor Mind their future State;
If none Thy baleful Influence will withstand,
Go forth, Corruption, Lord it o'er the Land;
If they are Thine for better and for worse,
On Them and on their Children light the Curse.
G. M. Corruption, Sir!—pray use a milder Term;
'Tis only a Memento to be firm;
The Times are greatly alter'd—Years ago,
A Man would blush the World his Price should know:
Scruple to own his Voice was to be bought;
And meanly minded what the Million thought;
Our Age more Prudent, and Sincere is grown,
The Hire they wisely take, they bravely own;
Laugh at the Fool, who let's his Conscience stand,
To barr his Passage to the promis'd Land;
Or, sway'd by Prejudice, or puny Pride,
Thinks Right and Int'rest of a different Side.