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nuts! hot spice gingerbread nuts! sugar and brandy-all sugar and brandy! if one warms you for a week, what will a pound do? Oh, mamma, may I see the peep shows? oh, I should like to see them, ma', it's only a penny. Now, my little masters and mistresses, this is the most wonderful wonder of all the wonders the world ever wondered-look through the glass and you'll see the misrepresentation of the wonderful combat between the Engglish bull-dogs and the Scotch lion, Wallace, for 800 guineas a side stand aside, you little ragged rascals without any money, and let those little dears come up what is a going to pay-now, my little dears, look straight forward, blow your noses, and don't breathe upon the glass,-look to the left, and you see Mr. Wombwell, the properrietor of the lion, a encouraging of him-look to the right, and you see the propperrietors of the dogs a encouraging of them-look through the middle hole, and you see the lion a nibbling of one, and holding one under his foot, while he is whisking out the eyes of another with his tail. Which is the lion, and which is the dogs, Mr. Showman? Whichever you please, my little dears; the like was never seen, here you have the view of this most extraordinary combat, while 8000 spectators are looking on in the most facetious manner, the whole forming one grand and malignant sight, for the small charge of one penny.

For I own 'tis my delight, &c.

(ENCORE DIALOGUE.)

He

Walk up, walk up, here is the Emperor of all the Conjurors, and Prince Regent of Houximepoksimehocopococo; he shall take a red hot poker, and thrust it into a barrel of gunpowder, and it shall not go off; he will then load a blunderbuss with some of the dentical powder as would not explode, charged with twelve leaden bullets, which he will fire full in the face of any of the spectators, as pleases, without their being ever the worser. will take the footman of any lady or gentleman and hang him up to the ceiling of the room, where he will let him hang, till he is requested by the company to take him down; he will borrow five or six shillings from any of the company, which he will never return to them, and all for his own private use and emolument, without any other motive whatever. Now, my little dears, you have seen that, and the next shall be something else; now the representation of the taking of Hallgiers, by Lord Sir Isaac Pellhoo, Esq. who was made Knight of Bath and Bristol for this very performance; look to the right, my little dears, and you'll see the treacherous Turks a loading of their guns, and the poor

Christian slaves a sarving out the red hot balls with their naked hands; there you see the Turkey interpreter Salami, entreating for to go below, to save his long beard, which he is afraid will be shot off by the cannon balls; look a little further and you'll see a Mussellman blown up in the air into a million of anatomies ; now, my little dears, look to the left and you'll see in the middle of the ocean the mast of a three decker man of war, with three British seamen clinging to it, for to save their lives and to keep up the allegory of Britannia rules the waves. Ten a penny sausages, ten a penny sassages. Bless me, they smell very nice, and look very nice, don't they? Yes. I never eat any, but I should like, I am not hungry now-though what are they made of, Mr. Doleful. I don't know, I have often meant to taste them myself, but never had the risolution to try one of 'em, there's a sort of prejudice, I've heard some people say, they're made of—but 1 never mention it unless I'm certain, though it's a curious coincidence, I lost my dog Pincher on this very spot last night. Ladies and Gentlemen, walk up, and see the most surprising performance in the whole fair, by the three brothers, Hali, Muley, and Hassan, from the Caribbee Islands, of which I am a native myself; Hali will take a lighted torch in his hand, and jump down the throat of his brother Muley, who will in his turn take another lighted torch and jump down the throat of his brother Hassan, and though Hassan the elder, is encumbered with the weight of his two brothers Hali, and Muley, he will take another torch, throw a flip flap and jump down his own throat, leaving the spectators completely in the dark.

Yes, I own 'tis my, &c.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST.

"TWAS at the royal feast for Persia won

By Philip's warlike son:

Aloft in awful state

The godlike hero sate

On his imperial throne;

His valiant peers were placed around;

Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound:
(So should desert in arms be crowned :)

The lovely Thais, by his side,

Sate like a blooming Eastern bride,

In flower of youth and beauty's pride.
Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserves the fair.

Timotheus, placed on high

Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touched the lyre:

The trembling notes ascend the sky,
And heavenly joys inspire.

The song began from Jove,
Who left his blissful seats above,
Such is the power of mighty love.)
A dragon's fiery form belied the god :
Sublime on radiant spires he rode,

When he to fair Olympia press'd;

And while he sought her snowy breast:

Then round her slender waist he curled,

And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world.
The listening crowd admire the lofty sound,

A present deity, they shout around:

A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound:
With ravished ears

The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,

Affects the nod,

And seems to shake the spheres.

The praise of Bacchus then, the sweet musician sung:

Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young:

The jolly god in triumph comes;

Sound the trumpets; beat the drums;
Flushed with a purple grace,

He shows his honest face:

Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes!
Bacchus, ever fair and young,

Drinking joys did first ordain;
Bacchus' blessings are a treasure,
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure:
Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure,

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain:

Fought all his battles o'er again;

And thrice he routed all his foes: and thrice he slew the slain.
The master saw the madness rise;

His glowing cheeks, and ardent eyes;
And while he heaven and earth defied,
Changed his hand, and checked his pride.
He chose a mournful Muse

Soft pity to infuse:

He sung Darius great and good,
By too severe a fate,
Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,

Fallen from his high estate,;
And weltering in his blood;
Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.

With downcast looks the joyless victor sate,
Revolving in his altered soul

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole,
And tears began to flow.

The mighty master smiled, to see
That love was in the next degree:
'Twas but a kindred sound to move,
For pity melts the mind to love.

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures.
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honour but an empty bubble;
Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying;
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, O think, it worth enjoying:
Lovely Thais sits beside thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee.

The many rend the skies with loud applause: So Love was crowned, but Music won the cause. The prince, unable to conceal his pain,

Gazed on the fair

Who caused his care,

And sighed and looked, sighed and looked,
Sighed and looked, and sighed again:

At length, with love and wine at once oppressed,
The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast.

Now strike the golden lyre again:

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain.

Break his bands of sleep asunder,

And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark, the horrid sound

Ias raised up his head :

As awaked from the dead,

And amazed, he stares around.

Revenge, revenge! Timotheus cries,

See the furies arise:

See the snakes that they rear,

How they hiss in their hair,

And the sparkles that flash from their eyes!
Behold a ghastly band,

Each a torch in his hand!

These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unburied remain

Inglorious on the plain;

Give the vengeance due

To the valiant crew!

Behold how they toss their torches on high,

How they point to the Persian abodes,

And glittering temples of their hostile gods!

The princes applaud, with a furious joy;

And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy. Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey,

And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.

Thus, long ago,

Ere heaving bellows learned to blow,

While organs yet were mute;

Timotheus, to his breathing flute,

And sounding lyre,

Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.
At last divine Cecilia came,

Inventress of the vocal frame;

The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store,
Enlarged the former narrow bounds,

And added length to solemn sounds,

With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize,

Or both divide the crown;

He raised a mortal to the skies,
She drew an angel down.

THE HACKNEY-COACH.

AIR.Royal Charlie.

THIS is a cab age all allow,

For only them we meet, now:
And omnibuses take the lead,

In every road and street, now;
Poor Jarvey he stands at a stand,

For a job's not to be had, now;
And if by chance he gets a call,
His fare is very bad now.

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