26.
The trembling Clown dissuades in vain
And finds too late, there’s no retreating,
Whatever Harlequin may gain,
The Clown is sure to have a beating.
27.
They tempt the main, the canvas raise,
A storm destroys his valiant legions;
And lo! our closing scene displays
A grand view of th’ infernal regions.
28.
Thus have we, gentlefolks, to day,
With pains proportion’d to th’ occasion,
Our piece perform’d: then further say,
How like you Harlequin’s Invasion?
BOB ROUSEM’S
EPISTLE TO
BONYPART.
This comes hoping you are well, as I am at this present; but I say, Bony, what a damn’d Lubber you must be to think of getting soundings among us English. I tell ye as how your Anchor will never hold; it isn’t made of good Stuff, so luff up, Bony, or you’ll be fast aground before you know where you are. We don’t mind your Palaver and Nonsense; for tho’ ’tis all Wind, it would hardly fill the Stun’ sails of an English Man of War. You’ll never catch a Breeze to bring ye here as long as you live, depend upon it. I’ll give ye a Bit of Advice now; do try and Lie as near the Truth as possible, and don’t give us any more of your Clinchers. I say, do you remember how Nelson came round ye at the Nile? I tell ye what, if you don’t take Care what you are about, you’ll soon be afloat in a way you won’t like, in a High Sea, upon a Grating, my Boy, without a bit of soft Tommy to put into your lanthorn jaws. I tell you now, how we shall fill up the Log-Book if you come; I’ll give ye the Journal, my Boy, with an Allowance for Lee way and Variation that you don’t expect. Now then, at Five A.M. Bonypart’s Cock-Boats sent out to amuse our English Men-of-war with fighting, (that we like). Six A.M. Bonypart lands, (that is, if he can); then we begin to blow the Grampus; Seven A.M. Bonypart in a Pucker; Eight A.M. Bonypart running away; Nine A.M. Bonypart on board; Ten a.m. Bonypart sinking; Eleven a.m. Bonypart in Davy’s locker; Meridian, Bonypart in the North Corner of ——, where it burns and freezes at the same time; but you know, any port in a storm, Bony, so there I’ll leave ye. Now you know what you have to expect; so you see you can’t say I didn’t tell ye. Come, I’ll give ye a Toast: Here’s Hard Breezes and Foul Weather to ye, my Boy, in your Passage; here’s May you be Sea Sick; we’ll soon make ye Sick of the Sea; Here’s, May you never have a Friend here, or a Bottle to give him. And to conclude: Here’s the French Flag where it ought to be, under the English.
his
Bob + Rousem.
markP.S. You see as I coudn’t write, our Captain’s Clerk put the Lingo into black and white for me, and says he’ll charge it to you.
Woodward (August 13, 1803) illustrated a very amusing little ballad. The picture is simple. Napoleon, as usual, with an enormous cocked hat and sword. John Bull, of ample rotundity, with his oaken cudgel. It is called ‘John Bull and Bonaparte!! to the tune of the Blue Bells of Scotland.