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First Line: Gentlemen and ladies
Last Line: My humble motion is———he may be damn'd.


GENTLEMEN and ladies,
These people have regal'd you here to-day
(In my opinion) with a saucy play;
In which the author does presume to shew,
That coxcomb, ab origine — was beau.
Truly I think the thing of so much weight,
That if some sharp chastisement ben't his fate,
Gad's curse, it may in time destroy the state.
I hold no one its friend, I must confess,
Who wou'd discauntenance you men of dress.
Far, give me leave t'abserve, good clothes are things
Have ever been of great support to kings:
All treasons come fram slovens; it is nat
Within the reach of gentle beaux to plat;
They have no gall; no spleen, no teeth, no stings,
Of all Gad's creatures, the most harmless things.
Thro' all recard, no prince was ever slain
By one who had a feather in his brain.
They're men of too refin'd an education,
To squabble with a court—for a vile dirty nation.
I'm very pasitive, you never saw
A tho'ro' republican a finish'd beau.
Nor truly shall you very often see
A Jacobite much better drest than he:
In shart, thro' all the Courts that I have been in,
Your men of mischief—still are in faul linen.
Did ever one yet dance the Tyburn jigg,
With a free air, or a well pawder'd Wig?
Did ever highway-man yet bid you stand,
With a sweet bawdy snuff-bax in his hand?
Ar do you ever find they ask your purseAs men of breeding
do?—Ladies, Gad's curse,
This author is a dag, and 'tis not fit
You shou'd allow him e'en one grain of wit:
To which, that his pretence may ne'er be nam'd,
My humble motion is———he may be damn'd.





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