PLOT OR NO PLOT OR, Sir w— m and his Spy foiled.  
A New BALLAD.  

Y● Lords, and ye Commons, give Ear to my Ditty,  
●●ile I tell of a Plot lately hatched in the City,  
You have heard how Mountain once brought forth a Mouse  
Such a Labour I sing— No Offence to the H—  
Derry Down   

A set of True Britons, who've never sold a Vote,  
And scorned for Court-Favour to alter their Note,  
Met together at Dtnner, as thinking with Reason,  
Roast Beef in Old England could never be deemed Treason.  
Derry Down.   

Tho' they met, as they tell you no Mischief intending,  
Yet the Proof of the Pudding is found in the spending;  
For as Children are frightened with Tales of a Ghost,  
So our Courtiers they're scared with the Sound of a Toast.  
Derry Down.   

Nor think this Alarm of our Ministry strange;  
For who knows what's meant by the Royal Exchange;  
Thed the Words Ahsent Stewards smell strong of Rebelling,  
Since to make 'em High-Treason— wants only the Spelling  
Derry Down.   

Sir w— m suspecting some horrid Design,  
That endangered his Place and the Protestant Line,  
dispatched a Court-Engine, whose Ear and whose Eye,  
Might remark what was doing— some call him a Spy.  
Derry Down.   

But some, who were surely no Friends to the Crown,  
Not liking the Face of our Spy, knocked him down:  
The Knight sore enraged at this cruel Disaster,  
Thought a Plot for his Noddle would prove a good plaster  
Derry Down.   

Besides, as he held, in such dangerous Times,  
For Tories to eat and to drink were high Crimes;  
So no Meal-Tub or Harlequin ●uppy before,  
Produced such a Plot as this Dinner, e sw●re.  
Derry Down.   

To the H e he complained then, and strait was appointed  
To search out this Scheme' against the Lords High Anointed  
But like Scrub, when his Plot he revealed to Friend Martin  
Knowing not what to make on't, he thought made it certain  
Derry Down.   

For so closely these Tories their Project had smothered,  
That the more he enquired the less he discovered:  
So finding not one Wrinkle more in his A—,  
The H— e all concluded this Plot but a Farce.  
Derry Down.   

Our Statesmen then cried, since we've made such a Pother  
And this Plot's too young, let us cook up another;  
For altho' our knights Credit has chanced to miscarry,  
Sure all will believe Honest Gentleman Horry.  
Derry Down.