The Cinder King, hot with desire,
To Brydges Street hied; but the Monarch of Ale,
With uplifted spigot and faucet, and pail,
Thus chided the Monarch of Fire:
“Vile tyrant, beware of the ferment I brew;
“I rule the roast here, dash the wig o’ me!
“If, spite of your marriage with Old Drury, you
“Come here with your tinderbox, courting the new,
“I’ll have you indicted for bigamy!”
Horace Smith.