THE CUB, AT NEW-MARKET.
[Price One Shilling.]
THE CUB, AT NEW-MARKET: A TALE.
LONDON, Printed for R. and J. DODSLEY, in
Pall-Mall.
MDCCLXII.
TO His ROYAL HIGHNESS EDWARD Duke of YORK.
SIR,
PERMIT me to take this method of thanking your Royal Highness, for condescending to like the following Sketch. Or, in other Words, permit me to let the World know that this same Cub has been laughed at by the Duke of YORK;—has been read to your Royal Highness by the Genius himself, and warmed by the immediate beams of your kind Indulgence.
HAD I been able to conceal this, I should have imagined that I had not the least Spark of the Enthusiasm of
Parnassus
in my Composition.—To be so deficient in Vanity, which, if I am not mistaken, may be reckoned an inseparable Characteristic of a Poet.
THIS Trifle, SIR, would not presume to interrupt you, when engaged in matters of Consequence. It only begs leave to pay it's Respects in an hour devoted to chearful Festivity.
I wish your Royal Highness a long, a merry, and a happy Life; and am,
Your obliged Devoted Servant.
PREFACE.
THIS Tale is—what very few Tales now-a-days are,—true. The Hero of it no other than the Author himself. It was indeed
catching the
merriment
as it rose;
for it was written in the New-market Coffee Room;—In which the Author, being elected a member of the Jockey Club, had the happiness of passing several sprightly goodhumoured Evenings—Just when the whimsical Adventure happened, which is here related.
POETICAL Licence however (and is it not right that it should be so?) has been taken. Particularly, in Justice to my own Person, I must declare that a certain figure of Speech, called by Rhetoricians Hyperbole or Exaggeration, has been made pretty free with.
MY Reasons for publishing it are twofold. One is my own: The other I borrowed from Lord SHAFTESBURY. The former is, without flattery, the merit of the Poem.
"Heyday!—to be sure!—why this is Impudence without a Parallel;"
says some Don Choleric or another.
I cannot agree with you there, Sir Testy—Pardon me, Sir,—hear my Explanation. These Verses have had the honour of being approved by those whose Taste it would be the highest Arrogance in me to call in question. Now, Sir, what have you to say to that?
THE latter is in order to let my friends have Copies of it, which they may be in no danger of not being able to read. And surely I may be rather excused for making the Press my Amanuensis than the noble Lord, who might have had half a dozen Secretaries at his command. If I have not already said enough, fifty other reasons may be invented by my ingenious Readers.
AND now for the Critics—Pray, good Gentlemen, be quiet. Do not apply your confounded Squares and Compasses to a Performance, whose Beauty—if it has any—but that, you know, is understood—consists in a careless ease. What have your grave Countenances to do here?—It is not at all becoming in People of your Dignity and Consequence, to keep company with
Cubs.
What the Deuce! can't a comical fellow take a hearty laugh, but one of you
sage Philosophers
must clap on a pair of damnation Spectacles, and stare him full in the Face, in order to find out Pimples upon his Nose?
COMMEND me, however, as much as you please. Take full scope there. And for your further encouragement, if you will tickle my fancy with a few obliging encomiums, I promise you a SCOTCH-PINT-BOTTLE of mine excellent Host
At the BEDFORD-HEAD.
WILDMAN's best Claret; which, by the by, has been facetiously reckoned no ineffectual Bribe to one formidable
Bashaw
amongst you.
JESTING apart. My dear Boy CUB! go along;—push thy way;—shift for thyself. All that is required of thee is, to relax the Muscles of such as have not got these organs of risibility over and above constricted.—Play thy Part well; and rest assured of eternal applause from thy loving PROGENITOR.
THE CUB, AT NEW-MARKET.
POETS, for most part, have been poor;
Experience tells us;—Proof too sure.
"Ay, may be so," Lord RICH exclaims,
Who Fortune's Will incessant blames,
"It may be so; but yet, confound 'em,
"They still have Jollity around 'em."
PRAY, my good Lord!—'tis no Offence
To ask by rules of common sense,—
Is not this distribution right?—
At least I view it in that light;
For 'tis but just that ev'ry Creature
Should have
some
favour from Dame Nature.
RICH shrugs his shoulders;—"Why, perhaps,
"'Tis as you say"—then sudden slaps
His fist upon his buff-clad thigh,
And surly grunts, "Don't know, not I.
"But come, don't you your Promise fail,
"Do, give us now that same new Tale
"Of Mirth;—'twill serve my spleen t' appease,
"And set my troubled mind at ease."
I will, my Lord! but hope you'll make
Allowance for a Youngster's sake.
"O never fear."—Don't look so grim,
You seem dispos'd my back to trim;
That Cudgel looks so wondrous strong,
'Twould sweep a dozen Tars along.
"POH! Poh! this idle trifling! nay,
"Come, Sir, youdine with me to-day."
BRAVO! my Lord! Oh, now I'm fee'd,
Wise as a Lawyer I'll proceed.
LORD E*******N, who has, you know,
A little dash of whim, or so;
Who thro' a thousand scenes will range
To pick up any thing that's strange,
By chance a curious CUB had got,
On SCOTIA's Mountains newly caught;
And, after driving him about
Thro'
London,
many a diff'rent rout,
The comic Episodes of which
Would tire your Lordship's Patience each;
New-market Meeting being near,
He thought 'twas best to have him there;
And, that your Time I mayn't consume,
View him in the
New Coffee-Room!
THERE soon his noble Patron gay
Flies to his sportive Friends away:
While the Poor Being hums a song,
Astonish'd to behold
a Throng
Of DUKES and LORDS!—Bless me! he thought;
Enchantment surely here has wrought!
SOMETIMES stock-still he stood amaz'd,
And with a stupid wonder gaz'd;
Admir'd at ev'ry thing he saw,
Ev'n Spurs would his attention draw;
Much more MILITIA COL'NELS GREAT!
The Bulwarks of BRITANNIA's State!
Whose strut majestic made him shrink,
As on a Promontory's brink:
In short, size, colour, voice, and shape,
Made our
Prodigious Hero
gape!
Such charms in Novelty we find,
Such it's effect on ev'ry mind.
SOMETIMES, he, with an awkard stride,
Would lift his legs, from side to side;
While Stars reflecting Phoebus' light
With beamy radiance struck his sight:
Then, as his visive orbs grew dim,
Began to think some look'd at him;
And Bashfulness, he knew not why,
Brought tears into his sheepish eye.
WHAT could the luckless fellow do?
For not a single soul he knew.
At last a corner pure and snug
He chanc'd to spy, which made him hug
Himself with joy.—There down he sat,
Of Solitude fond as a Bat:
And like a man at point of death,
Scarcely squeez'd forth above his breath,
"Here, get me
Paper, Pen and Ink,
"For,
Waiter,
I will write, I think."
AND now, my Story, pause awhile;
Till I, in
Hudibrastic
stile,
Attempt to give you as I can,
The Portraiture of this Wild Man.
HE was not of the iron Race,
Which sometimes CALIDONIA grace,
Tho' he to Combat could advance—
Plumpness shone in his Countenance;
And Belly prominent declar'd,
That he for Beef and Pudding car'd.
He had a large and pond'rous head,
That seem'd to be compos'd of lead;
From which hung down such stiff, lank hair,
As might the crows in Autumn scare.
TWO hours thus studious past or more;
Afraid to venture on the floor,
He rather thought on something new,
Nor dreamt he any notice drew.
SEDLEY, a truly worthy Knight,
In whom strong sense quick parts unite,
Whose humour of peculiar cast
Surprizes you from first to last;
Who, tho' few really are more wise,
To look a little foolish tries;
And likes
Exotics
to discover,
As a fine Lady a new Lover;
To the consounded Put comes near,
Tips him at once a friendly leer,
And thus accosts him: "How now, Squire?
"Why, you've already wrote a Quire;
"Yet still continue to go on:
"What! will your labours ne'er be done?
"'Tis said that you and EGLINTOUN
"Our History are handing down:
"No doubt, 'twill be a Work compleat;
"All former Authors will be beat:
"Out with
Proposals
—for my share,
"I'll instantly subscribe, I swear."
JUST in the moment as he spoke,
The sprightly PEER, with switch of oak,
Popt in his nose—"Faith, good enough,
"Sir CHARLES my friend! You
Jockey
bluff!
"We'll give you leave—no favour light—
"Here to throw in a willing mite.
"You, to
Parnassus
who resort,
"And the
Pierian
Ladies court,
"Come, touch us up a sketch in rhime,
"And shew your genius—now's the time.
"To the best
The best Justice
—Mr. P—N.
JUSTICE in the Nation—
"The Squire I mean—make Dedication;
"And I, who have a knack that way,
"Will whistle Notes to what you say:
"Nay, more, in attitude burlesque,
"Will draw the
The Caliban
—An Appellation sometimes merrily bestowed on a very sensible worthy Member, who loves a jest himself; and who admires the equitable Practice of
Give and Take,
CALIBAN grotesque;
"Who in the Frontispiece shall stand,
"And, ludicrous, your mirth command."
THIS last Design was scarcely broach'd,
When, lo! the MONSTER fell approach'd!
The Justice in one arm he lugs,
And the thin Spectre onward tugs.
OUR CLOWN (like country mouse of old,
'Bout which in HORACE we are told)
Quak'd timid, as, with horrid grin,
He saw HIM shake his triple chin;
Th' affrighted
Animal
would skulk,
And hide him from th' ENORMOUS BULK.
YOU'll easily believe,
My Lord!
That this could no small fun afford;
And set—nay call me not queer Dog—
Their
Gelasticity
agog.
AT first the circle held but few;
Till, as the loud laugh stronger grew,
DUKES, LORDS, and COMMONS fondly join'd,
Eager the mighty joke to find:
Not one of 'em a sentence spoke,
With peals of laughter like to choak;
Each as he came th' infection seiz'd,
And by his friend behind was teaz'd
With "What's the matter?"—All at once,
The friend behind turns equal Dunce.
IN short, the Hounds, when in full cry,
Ne'er struck with so much force the sky,
As this blithe Chorus did assault
The Coffee-Room's resounding Vault.
MEANTIME, Sir CHARLES, who
seem'd
to pry
Into the Jest, with aspect sly;
His visage veiling with a gloom,
Slip'd to the middle of the room,
Pull'd half a dozen by the sleeve,
And whisper'd each; "You may believe,
"I'm forc'd to tell you what is true,
"Why, damn it, Sir! they laugh at
You.
"
AND now, my Lord!—And now, in end,
To what does all this Story tend?
IF you're so good as to allow,
I'd willingly the Moral show.
"Ha! ha! my Boy! with all my heart;—
"You're now to play a serious part.
"Wisdom to learn from such as you,
"Is surely something very new."
YOUR Lordship here then may observe,
That Nonsense frequently will serve
To set a table on a roar,
And drive dull Sadness out of door.
From whence, that Folly is at least
Harmless, I think should be confest;
And that in life it may be well,
Sometimes to hunt the
Bagatelle.
LIKEWISE we see that Fate ne'er fails
To weigh things in impartial scales:
For, tho' some People are more blest,
With Understanding than the rest,
She some external Oddity
Bestows, which they themselves can't see,
Or some particular defect,
Which, while they indolent neglect,
To Mortals of inferior sort,
In harmless Satire serves for sport.
THUS is the Ballance render'd even;
Here view the equity of Heaven.
FINIS.