The Cockpit Combat: OR, THE BAITING OF THE TIGER, On Thursday March 9 1698.  

AN Over grown Cat, of a very large size,  
To the wonder of Fools, be it known to the Wise,  
Some Twelvemonths ago was brought over from the East,  
Being grown from a Kitten to a wonderful Beast:  
From his Strength, and his Whiskers, his Talons and Vigour,  
Our Bear-Garden Judges do say he'● a Tig●●.  
Being famed for his Fierceness, his Name, and his Nature,  
The Town was all Mad for a sight of the Creature:  
Who was Collared and Fettered his Courage to cool,  
Then all were admitted at Three pence per Fool.  
When each to his Beastliness had been a Bubble,  
From Cobbler and Crack, to the Knight and the Noble,  
By staunch Politicians, the matter was stated,  
For a Cunning By-End, that the Beast should be Baited.  
The Cockpit was taken, and Galleries built,  
To Accommodate Lady, Lord, Bully, and Jilt;  
Where Places were fitted from Guinea to Crown,  
For the Worshipful Squire, to the Man of the Town:  
The day was appointed, and all things agreed,  
Three Dogs were procured, of the Slabber-chap'd-breed;  
When the hour drew on, and each Longing Spectator,  
Had taken their Seat in the Coxcombs Theatre,  
The Tiger was led down in Chains quickly a'ter,  
As Tame to the Pit, as a Sheep to the Slaughter;  
In Irons confined, and abundance of Tackle,  
He rattled about, like a Thief in his Shackle.  
Yet holding his Fetters in Noble Disdain,  
He hopped to and fro, like a Flea in a Chain.  
When the Ladies all saw that the Beast was Secured,  
And the Beaus found no danger of being Devoured,  
Each Dog was led in by the Looby his Master,  
Who trembled for fear of his Boobies disaster.  
The Tiger half frighted, looked pitiful pale-oned,  
And viewed with much Terror each Yelping Assailant,  
He Pissed and he Growled, and he Growled and he Pissed,  
The Fools were all Frighted, the Wiser sort Hissed.  
Then a Let-go was made, by the Lord of the Rout,  
Who encouraged his Dog with a Hockly-hole Shout.  
The Tiger not used to their Bear-Garden play,  
Was amazed when he found he was got in a Fray,  
And exerting his Strength, being terribly frighted,  
He Killed the poor Cur, as I hope to be Knighted;  
Who has taken his farewell of Bear and of Bull,  
As he lived like a Puppy, he died like a Fool.  
With the Rabbles Huzza than they Let go another,  
To revenge the lost Blood of his Boobily Brother,  
Who gave the poor Tiger a Bear-Garden Twirl,  
And fling him on's Back, as a Man would a Girl.  
His sturdy Attendance, who watchfully waited,  
Being angry to see his young Master so Baited,  
He ups with his Pole, that the Blow might be fatal,  
And knocks down the Dog in the midst of the Battle:  
The Owner cried, Z— ds, what d'ye mean, Sir, by that,  
To discourage my Dog with a knock on the Pate,  
For the Blow you have gi'n him, I'll give you another,  
I'll stand by my Dog, as I would by my Brother?  
So to it they fell, with like Courage and Vigour,  
And showed better Sport, than the Dog and the Tiger.  
At the end of the squabble, the third was let go,  
Who ran like a fury to Battle his Foe:  
Made no more of the Tiger (as People do brag-on)  
Than a sturdy Knight-Errant, would do of a Dragon.  
When they'd tumbled and bustled a little about,  
Like Puppies at Play, for the Sport of the Rout,  
They parted the Enemies, ended the Fray,  
And the Crowd all affronted came grumbling away.  
It is said by the Old India Company too,  
'Twas the merest Sham-Battel that ever they knew.  
Of this there's a great deal of stuff might be said,  
But I learned when a Boy, what I'll keep till I'm Dead,  
A close Mouth in many things makes a wise Head.    

LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1699.