I am a Friar of orders Grey,
And down the valleys I take my way.
I pull not Blackberry, Haw, or Hip;
Good store of ven'son does fill my scrip.
My long Bead-roll I merrily chaunt,
Wherever I walk no money I want;
And why I'm so plump, the reason I'll tell,
Who leads a good life is sure to live well;
What Baron, or Squire, or Knight of the Shire
Lives half so well as a Holy Friar?
After supper of Heav'n I dream,
But that is fat pullets and clouted cream;
Myself by denial I mortify,
With a dainty bit of a Warden pie.
I'm cloth'd in sackcloth for my sin,
With old Sack wine I'm lin'd within,
A chirping cup is my Matin song,
And the vesper's bell is my bowl—ding dong!
What Baron, or Squire, or Knight of the Shire
Lives half so well as a Holy Friar?
THE HOLY FRIAR.
May 16, 1807. I Smell a Rat, or a Rogue in Grain. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand. An exuberant rustic charmer has been entertaining a fashionable visitor in a granary; a party of rustics, mounting the ladder, have disturbed the interview. A powdered, pig-tailed, and lace-ruffled dandy has sought concealment amidst the sacks of grain; his head appears over the barrier in sheer dismay, for a determined farm help, probably the legitimate swain of the indignant damsel, armed with a formidable pitchfork, is making reckless efforts to impale the trespasser; his fury is slightly restrained by the stalwart exertions of the lady, who has buried her fingers in the village Othello's shock head of hair; at his feet is a scroll with the quotation 'I smell a rat, dead for a ducat.' A bill, pinned on the wall, sets forth 'Rats, pole cats, and all sorts of vermin effectively destroyed.'
May 17, 1807. The Old Man of the Sea, sticking to the Shoulders of Sindbad the Sailor. Vide The Arabian Nights Entertainments. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.—The dandified Sir Francis Burdett is figured as a discontented Sindbad the Sailor; his preceptor John Horne Tooke, in his clerical garments, is perched on his pupil's shoulders, and he is driving him through The Mire of Politics, in which he is wading knee-deep. In the distance is shown the baronet's mansion, Independence and a comfortable home. From an upper window a lady is waving back the traveller, who does not relish turning his back on this prospect to encounter the Ministerial Shoals and Treasury Rocks which are opposed to his progress on the other side. Horne Tooke is urging on the career of his protégé: 'Persevere! persevere! you are the only man to get through.' Burdett's confidence is wavering: 'This old man will be the end of me at last; what a miry place he has brought me into!'
May 25, 1807. A White Sergeant giving the Word of Command: 'Why don't you come to bed, you drunken sot?' Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.—A man, past the meridian of life, is calmly enjoying his pipe before his fire, with an agreeable book in his hand, 'Rule a wife and have a wife.' The young wife is indignantly rating the easy-going husband on his inclination to prefer the fireside to his conjugal couch.
May 29, 1807. Comedy in the Country, Tragedy in London. Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.—Comedy in the Country is played in a barnlike building to an audience of rustics, whose faces express the most intense appreciation. Tragedy in London, as performed in a fashionable theatre, has plunged a very select audience into the depths of grief and misery: tears bedew every cheek, and even the members of the orchestra are weeping profusely.
May 30, 1807. Platonic Love. 'None but the Brave deserve the Fair.' Sir E. Bunbury del., Rowlandson sculp.—An illustration to the lines in Othello wherein Desdemona's wooing is described. A veteran commander, who has lost an arm and both legs, is acting on the advice of his fair, who is tenderly embracing his wooden leg. Although the name of Rowlandson is appended to this plate, the method of its execution bears a closer resemblance to the handling of C. W. (Williams).