Occasioned by Mr. Rivington's new Titular Types to his Royal Gazette, of February 27, 1782[136]
Well—now (said the devil) it looks something better!
Your title is struck on a charming new Letter:
Last night in the dark, as I gave it a squint,
I saw my dear partner had taken the hint.
I ever surmised (though 'twas doubted by some)
That the old types were shadows of substance to come:
But if the new Letter is pregnant with charms,
It grieves me to think of those cursed King's Arms!
The Dieu et mon droit (his God and his right)
Is so dim, that I hardly know what is meant by't;
The paws of the Lion can scarcely be seen,
And the Unicorn's guts are most shamefully lean!
The Crown is so worn of your master the Despot,
That I hardly know whether 'tis a crown or a pisspot:
When I rub up my day-lights, and look very sharp
I just can distinguish the Irishman's Harp:
Another device appears rather silly,
Alas! it is only the shade of the Lilly!
For the honour of George, and the fame of our nation,
Pray give his escutcheons a rectification—
Or I know what I know, (and I'm a queer shaver)
Of Him and his Arms I'll be the In-grave-r.
[136] Published in the Freeman's Journal, March 13, 1782.
LINES
On Mr. Rivington's new engraved King's Arms to his Royal Gazette[137]
From the regions of night, with his head in a sack,
Ascended a person accoutred in black,
And upward directing his circular eye whites;
(Like the Jure-divino political Levites)
And leaning his elbow on Rivington's shelf,
While the printer was busy, thus mus'd with himself:
"My mandates are fully complied with at last,
"New arms are engrav'd, and new letters are cast:
"I therefore determine and freely accord,
"This servant of mine shall receive his reward."
Then turning about, to the printer he said,
"Who late was my servant shall now be my Aid;
"Since under my banners so bravely you fight,
"Kneel down!—for your merits I dubb you a knight,
"From a passive subaltern I bid you to rise
"The Inventor as well as the Printer of lies."
[137] Freeman's Journal, March 27, 1782. The Gazette, among the Whigs at least, was the synonym for falsity and unfairness. It was generally alluded to as the Lying Gazette.