The Audience.  

THE Critics that pretend to sense  
Do cavel at the Audience,  
As if his Grace were not as good  
To bow to, as a piece of Wood  
Did not our Fathers heretofore  
Their senseless Deities adore?  
Did not old Delphos all along  
Vent Oracles without a Tongue?  
And wisest Monarches did importune  
From the dumb God to know their fortune.  
Did not the speaking Head of late  
Of matters learnedly Debate?  
And rendered without Tongue or Ears  
Wise answers to his whispering Peers?  
And shall we to a living Prince  
Deny the State of Audience?  
What though the Bantling cannot speak?  
Yet like the Blockhead he may squeak;  
Give Audience by Interpreter;  
The wisest Prince can do no more.   

Then enter with a Prince's Banner  
Sir Charles after the usual manner.  
Great Sir, His Holiness from Rome  
Greets your high Birth. The Prince cried Mum.  
The Consecrated Robe and Clout,  
If you'll vouchsafe to hear me out,  
And many other Toys I'm come  
To lay them to your sacred Bum.  

So young, yet such a Godlike Ray!  
Phoebus' your Dad was Priest D— a,  
Great Prince, I have no more to say.   
Conducted next there comes, Great Sir,  
An Envoy from the Emperor,  
To gratulate your lucky fate,  
That gives to England's Throne new date;  
We joy that Any Thing should Reign,  
To baffle Orange and the Dane.  
The Youth, to see them thus beguiled,  
In token of his favour, smiled.  
But at the Spaniard laughed outright.  
As shamm'd again in Eighty Eight.  
Next, having passed the inward Sentry,  
The doubtful Monsieur makes his entry.  
The King my Master, Sir, has sent  
Your Royal Birth to compliment;  
If you will make it but appear,  
That you are England's lawful Heir.  
Here Lady Powis took him short,  
Frenchman. Have you a King? Thank Maz'rine for't.  
Frenchman. Whoever the Father was, the Mother  
Was France's Queen, [Powis] Who questions t' other?  
At this Reproof he pawned a Purse,  
And parting made his Peace with Nurse.  
The Dane, the Suede, with other Nations  
Come in with loud Congratulations.  
Upon the Suede so famed for Battle  
He cast a frown and shook his Rattle.  
And for the Dane, who took the part  
Of good Prince George, he let a fart.  
This put him in a sullen fit,  
Nurse scarce could dance him out of it.  
When an Ambassador from Poland  
Knocked at the Door, and Velt from Holland,  
He crying Sucked, and Sucking cried,  
When Lady Governess replied,  
Peace, Prince, Peace, Prince, Peace, pretty Prince,  
And let the States have Audience.  
Dutchman. From Holland I am hither sent  
Dutchman. To Challenge, not to Compliment.  
Prepare with speed your Twenty Sail,  
Your twice Four thousand on the Nail;  
Which by your Senate was enacted,  
With Orange when your Sire contracted.  
The name of Holland did affright  
And make th' young Hero scream outright.  
But, Orange named, the Royal Elf,  
The sweet, sweet Babe beshit himself.  
Tyrconnel, who came o'er no less  
Than to be made his Governess,  
To take her leave, by luck came in,  
She sucked his Nose, and licked him clean.  
Last came the Lady Hales from Play,  
Moved by instinct he cried, Mamma,  
And posted to the Queen away.  EXIT.