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 •^^\ 
 
 BLACK BALL'S 
 
 '9 
 
 OR THE 
 
 FAREWELL ADDRESS 
 
 OF A 
 
 THEATRICAL 
 
 HIS LEAVING A CERTAIN COLLEGE, 
 
 1 IN 
 
 A CERTAIN ENGUSH UNIVERSITY, 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED BY D, JAUUES, LOWER SLOANE STREET. 
 
 1818. 
 
-B . i. 
 
 v*.. 
 
 #•: 
 
 ^£r 
 
 * , *i 
 
#r* 
 
 » BLACK BALL'S 
 
 1 
 
 VAI.E, 
 
 VOS, VALETE ET PLAUDITE. 
 
 Stay, masters — 'twill be long before 
 Another hearing I implore-— 
 One moment — for the next may sever 
 The master and the man for ever. 
 Hear me, kind mistress o' the kitchen- 
 Queen o' the buttery — the which in, 
 With help of culinary things, 
 Fve acted centuries of kings. 
 The play being nearly ended, don't 
 Deny me — but Vm sure you w'not — 
 
 m84:820 
 
That gracious smile, that kind applause, 
 
 Which, when the mimic histVy draws 
 
 TVards its conclusion, ev'ry hearer 
 
 Is wont to give ; for none sincerer # 
 
 Than I, Til venture to maintain, 
 
 Ever besQugKt '.yMr confidence to gam. 
 
 How frequently, in feigned show, 
 Of madness, pleasure, or of woe. 
 Have I consumed your tedious while, 
 And witnessed your approving smile ! 
 But now, when I do really feel, v^,; 
 
 And wou'd in honesty reveal 
 Those very passions, which, so late 
 In mimicry I cou'd dilate ; 
 I find my faculty but weak. 
 And my tongue powerless to speak : 
 So, Hamlet, in thelatter act > qbil 
 Of his wild histVy, was in fact 
 Mistaken,* when he wonder'd, how 
 The players, cou'd distinctly show 
 
The various passions, that, combined 
 To work upon the human mind. 
 When, chance, they never felt the sense, 
 But play'd throughout in vague pretence. 
 * But," said the Danish prince, ' had they 
 Those cues and reasons, which, do prey 
 On me within, they'd drown the stage 
 With tears, and with a juster rage 
 The guilty and the free appall. 
 Eyes, ears, and ev'ry sense enthral/ 
 Yet, my good masters, if I may. 
 From mine own, others' natures weigh ; 
 I should with little doubt conclude. 
 That, these same mimic heroes, wou'd 
 The more effectively express 
 That, which, they feign'd, than, that, they did 
 possess. 
 But, farewell all ! and O ! forgive a 
 Tear at departing—Then, forever. 
 Farewell, the jolly mind! Alas! 
 The well-corked bottle, and big glass, 
 

 
 Ued Rawlins^ steed, and all, farewell. 
 That make a College bearable ! 
 The spirit-stirring rows, that go on — 
 The royal bumper toasts, and so on — 
 Ride, romp, and fun from other causes I 
 And O, ye jolly dogs, whose voices 
 E^en ' the immortal Jove^s dread clamour 
 Counterfeit^ — or a blacksmith's hammer, 
 Farewell ! Poor Black Ball's occupation 
 Has met its final destination ! 
 
 Humble, my calling here, ^tis true — 
 And yet, methinks, some praise is due 
 To him, whose task it is assigned 
 To polish up the lowest kind : 
 To brighten that, which, ne'er was found 
 In duty, but upon the ground : 
 To keep that very same thing neat 
 That, people trample under feet : 
 To give a gloss to that, which, wou^d 
 The moment after, kiss the mud : 
 
7 
 In short, he surely hath some dues, 
 Who, polishes your boots and shoes. 
 Such is my duty — but you will 
 Allow, Tm worthier to fill 
 A loftier station — not that I 
 Wou^d in the least degree imply 
 That, blacking shoes, or cobbleing, 
 To which, I am a middleing 
 Successful hand, be base or low — 
 Quite the reverse, as I shall show-^ 
 But, my kind gentlefolks, I mean, 
 Fm fitter for the tragic scene ; 
 To glitter in the spangled tunic ; 
 To wield the sceptre histrionic ; 
 For well ye know, how, after hall 
 At evening, I obey your call; 
 With hearth-brush in my girdle, for 
 Want of a better scymitar; 
 First, in the person of Macbeth, 
 I stare aghast at Duncan s death; 
 
8 
 I ope my hand, which, truly might 
 A bolder than Macbeth affright; 
 For, you remember, while he cries 
 Appaird — 'O they pluck out mine eyes f 
 He looks upon his hands, all — ruddy — 
 That's for my rhyme, the right word's, bloody- 
 But I, by far a blacker felon, 
 All over daub'd Math classic aima meaak.* 
 
 In Hamlet too, Fm pretty able — 
 As far as dress may go — in sable — 
 My apron, smalls — in truth I call em 
 * My customary suits of solemn 
 Black' — but a frequent imputation 
 Is cast on me, of innovation ; 
 For, as my calling it may suit. 
 Perhaps some word I substitute — 
 
 * The colour, which, approaches, perhaps, the nearest 
 to that signified by Homer, is of the dark flowing of 
 the ripe grape ; probably better understood, (at any rate, 
 by the Society in question,) by the name of red Port 
 wine. 
 
9 
 
 But right synonymous for other — 
 Tis not my blacking coat, good mother"- 
 Besides it is a bad word — inky — 
 Mine's far more suitable — what think ye i 
 Yet, Fm at loss for such a host ; 'ai^^rlv/ 
 A mother, uncle, cousin, ghost ; 
 For, since I recollect, Black Ball V'^ 
 
 Never had any kin at all : jj-i uh: 
 But what is rather odd, I ween, mh iuii 
 Hamlet the Dane, and me, between^arl) '10 
 Is, that, he had all things in life, 
 Both great and small, except a wife — 
 Unless, the gentle Ophelia -'^wii 
 
 Did indeed — but Fll not belie her : 
 Now, rather than the prince should make 
 His mistress, wife, for Black Ball's sake ; 
 I wou'd as lieve Ma'am Ball be Mistress — 
 But sure, I shou'd not feel that distress >ri F 
 When the time came, that, she'd be found 
 Under a weeping willow, drown'd ; 
 
For her, Black Ball wou'd ne'er exert his 
 Art pugilistic, with Laertes : 
 Moreover, who gives out so bold 
 As I ; * and e're these shoes were old?* 
 Yet whereas the man, who's ever seen, 
 Or read, or heard about a queen, 
 Who, when, a little month were ended, 
 Wou'd send her high-lows to be mended ? 
 But thus it was — after the burial 
 Of the old king, they were so merry all. 
 Her majesty the queen declared. 
 That, to mine uncle she'd be married. 
 Even, before the church yard dust 
 Were off her shoes — or she'd be curst. 
 
 Othello, likewise, I prefer — 
 Not that, it's my best character — 
 I like it well enough, though — but 
 The fact is, that, the man's a smut : 
 But in this part, there is one thing 
 I can't forbear from mentioning ; 
 
11 
 
 Tis of poor wedded Desdemona — 
 Othello, swore he wou'd not own her4r-' "W 
 (For he was one of those mad fellows, 
 Making themselves for ever jealous) 3i\t 5iV\! 
 Because, his aid-de-camp lago— • ^odl bnA 
 Than whom, I take it, you may far go, .0 
 And meet no greater villain — so ^ ^I 
 
 That, in candour, we should allow 
 His Moorship something of pretence. 
 To justify his mad offence — 
 I say, he wou'd not own her, for 
 That * snoh' lago swore he saw 
 Her, to her paramour, consign — 
 (Mich Cassio the Florentine) 
 A spotted handkerchief f one does n't 
 Full often, meet with such a present : 
 And, my good masters, it is this , 
 I do conjecture, much amiss — 
 A thing, which, we may well suppose 
 Had oft wip'd Desdemona's nose : 
 
12 
 
 Now, had the dame (when she felt wiHsh) 
 Wish'd to do something at all stylish, 
 Methinks, she, rather, shou'd have gat 
 The measurement ofCassio'sfoot; 
 And then, have gone to the best maker. 
 Ordering, that, straightway, he shou'd take a 
 Pair, of the veriest dandy sort 
 To Cassio — and to have paid for 't. 
 
 But, without any affectation, -^ 
 
 Tm Faulconbridge, to admiration — ^ 
 
 But, beret's a text to change, I beg — 
 ' Sir Rob ne'er holp'd to make this leg/ — ■ 
 This is the reading I dispute on ; 
 Say, * there's a leg to put a boot on !' 
 As we wou'd say, in common talking, 
 * Look, here's a shape for a silk stocking T 
 But boottS, of course, for princes ; and I 
 Dare swear, the young wit was a dandy. 
 Now, Faulconbridge, I pitch on him, 
 Because, he had a well turn'd limb ; 
 
13 
 
 'But, as to Glo'ster's part, I took it. 
 Because, 'tis said, his legs were crooked ; 
 For both do manifestly suit rf woffe ol 
 
 To show, the qualities of boot. 
 
 Moreover, any I defy 
 As well in farce, as tragedy — 
 That is, in characters, that do Ahmnii 
 
 Depend upon a boot or shoe: \^ r^^f 
 
 And one part, which, indeed you may 
 Reckon, not quite, the first o' the play ; 
 Yet, let me tell you, which, if cast^y^f j .j (_ 
 To a bad actor, wou'd be lost — 
 I mean, the quaint facetious artist, 
 
 * A mender of bad soles/ whose part i»^;c,.. :^ 
 Contained within the tragedy. 
 
 Of Julius Caesar's History. 
 
 * Why lead ye these about the street ?' 
 
 * Why, truly, to wear out their feet/ 
 
 But, tell me, which of you have seen 
 My tip top Strumbo, in Locrine ? 
 
There is but very little doubt^j^'<^^i' ^^ - 
 
 This tragedy, our poet wrote 
 To show his high dramatic art 
 Of waggery, in Strumbo's part — 
 Inspired, was Shakespear, I believe it, 
 The moment that he did conceive it : 
 Strumbo, throughout, what a display ! 
 The ruling Julius of the play ! 
 No character were ever nobler, ^ 
 
 Than that, of this facetious cobler. 
 Ye Covent managers, with reason, 
 'May reckon on a fruitful season: 
 No doubt your theatre will fill, ^ 
 
 When people come to read your bill : 
 Siddons'^ Constance, Keipble's Brutus, -J-^P-^ 
 Will never more be found to suit us : 
 Yes, Kemble, Siddons, ye may go ; 
 Your acting ^s vulgar, trifling, low ; 
 A booted Tom Cat doth appear — 
 It boots ye nothing, to stay here — v't^*^ 
 
15 
 
 Reclaimed, at length, the taste and age — ^ 
 Hail, to the drama, and the stage ! — 
 Yet hold ! — I surely make a fuss 
 Uncaird, about this booted puss — 
 If I remember, in a cram^d 
 Assembly, poor Tom puss was damned. — 
 Did they not cry, ' a-bas ! a^bas /' 
 * Off! off!* the Marquis Carabas?— 
 Now, I remember't well — ^'od rot it, 
 That, so soon I shou'd have forgot it. 
 But, masters, as I first was saying— ©i cwk^. 
 — ^Again I crave ye for estraying — ' 
 There are some else, in which, by none, 
 Is Black Ball, though I say't, outdone — 
 Many — if memory I cou'd urge on — 
 Rattan, Guy Fawkes, and Major Sturgeon — 
 Mind this ; that, sine boots they!re nothing-^ 
 As Falstaff wou^d be without stuffing — 
 As Hamlet^s clown, were he not dressed out 
 In a variety of waistcoat — 
 
16 
 
 Ay, even full as great a sin 
 
 As, Easter, sine Harlequin — 
 
 Or — if the rhyme ye can discern well — 
 
 A Christmas night, without George Barnwell. 
 
 Now, who's the man, who dares to treat 
 With slight, the artist of the feet? 
 I call on lofty tragedy ; 
 The subtle wit of comedy ; 
 Are ye not known, distinguished too, 
 Not by the tunic, but the shoe? 
 Own to the one, great Sophocles ; 
 To t'other, Aristophanes ; 
 For, ye are reckoned of the first kin 
 Dramaticif by sock and buskin. 
 
 Now, hail, ye British Ladies ! — for, 
 Although, in all, sans doute^ ye are — 
 In elegance, in beauty, or 
 In wit — by far superior 
 To other women ; if you please 
 From England to Antipodes ; 
 
1 
 
 17 
 
 Yet, there is one thing ye excel in, 
 
 Beyond — beyond all pow'r of telling : 
 
 Not only, in your winning graces ; 
 
 Not only, by your pretty faces ; 
 
 But, in your stylish boots with laces. 
 
 And well turn'd ancles — in this ; credit ye, 
 
 Ye do surpass the maid de Medicis. 
 
 But, how is it, so late refining 
 In taste, that, ye are now declining ? 
 For, ^tis not three years since, the trade, he, 
 Crispin, resigned to ev'ry lady ; 
 Who, daily, after breakfast, sat down 
 With wax, and awl, and last, a lap stone ; 
 So that, none ever went a raking 
 To routs, not wearing her own making : 
 This was refinement — but, alas ! 
 Like other good things, it must pass : 
 Still, hope we, if they make a failure in 
 Shoemaking, they will take to tayloring ; 
 Leather, in shoes, is hard, for stitches-— 
 There's softer skin in leather breeches — 
 C 
 
18 
 
 But gently — for, I shou'd not wonder 
 
 But, I have made a pretty blunder — ■- 
 
 For, it is said, you must combine 
 
 Taylors, up to the number nine, 
 
 Before ^tis deem'd fit, that, they can 
 
 Make, as he ought to be, a man — 
 
 Now (and indeed I do not doubt it — 
 
 Not that I know great deal about it — 
 
 But without any hesitation, 
 
 I do maintain this firm persuasion) 
 
 On the contrary from its taking 
 
 Nine buxom lasses, for the making 
 
 Of one mere man, I do incline 
 
 To think, that, one wou*d give you nine : 
 
 Thus, as nine taylors make a man, 
 
 And, as ^tis clear, one w^oman can 
 
 Make you nine men ; if you will sum 'em, 
 
 'Tis pretty evident, one woman 
 
 Can do nine times what, nine are able 
 
 Of taylors ; which, summ'd by the table. 
 
 Goes, nine times nine are eighty-one — 
 
 Thus, you perceh'^ what I have done — 
 
19 
 
 Compared 5 with matchless impudence, 
 
 Generative omnipotence 
 
 Of the kind sex, to the ninth fraction 
 
 Of whose integer, in perfection, 
 
 Nine timejs, and more, it cou'd produce — 
 
 — Here's an odd line — now how the duce 
 
 Cou'd I have made this paragraph 
 
 Thus — to conclude it with the first half 
 
 Of a couplet? — but, 'tis in vain 
 
 To travel o'er the ground again ; 
 
 For if I should, I might not mend it ; 
 
 So — in this bungle, I must end it. 
 
 Now, the Chinese dames cramp their toes 
 off, 
 By never taking of their shoes off: 
 Small feet they think becoming, so 
 They never suffer them to grow : 
 Surely, that female fashion's blameable 
 That, has a tendency to lame 'em all : 
 And yet, on second thoughts, there may— ^ 
 And second thoughts are best they say — 
 
20 
 
 There may be some advantage, when 
 Considered only, are the men ; 
 The man of ton, or there, or here. 
 May pay his court with little fear ; 
 And wife — howe'er he may forsake her — 
 However jealous he may make her — 
 He has, at least, this good reflection, 
 That, he can run from her detection. 
 If she thought 't worthy to pursue, 
 Throughout his gallantries, Ching Moo : 
 But, it is terribly fatiguing 
 To talk about Chinese intriguing — 
 But, probably, more aptly speaking, 
 Tis splenetic, and far too piquing : 
 In short — the fashion, Fm afraid, is 
 Rather absurd, among the Chinese ladies. 
 
 The shoe is various, high or low ; 
 Bound with a buckle, or a bow ; 
 Tis thin, or thick, as you may chance 
 To wish to shoot, or wish to dance ; 
 Of English, or of Spanish leather ; 
 And worn, to keep one from the weather. 
 
21 
 
 In England now, so much is thought 
 From broad St. Giles^s^ to the court. 
 Of a man's boots ; that, altogether 
 It stamps him who may wear them, whether 
 He be this, or that, or what — 
 And to those, who may not have 'got 
 A very well made, first rate pair, 
 I wou'd advise, that, they be ware 
 How they presume; for 'tis offence 
 For any man to show pretence, 
 Without this stamp, and mark, that he 
 Be worthy of gentility ; 
 In short — the boots do clearly show 
 Whether, or not, you're of the go. 
 
 But boots much differ in their kind — 
 The crease before, the seam behind : 
 First, for the top-boot — but I wou'd 
 In this, be clearly understood. 
 That, the word, top^ is not for showing 
 That, this boot is the dandiest going — . 
 Because, by no means is it so ; for — 
 — But in good time you will discover— 
 
22 
 
 Tis call'd top boot, because, it hati^;><-i '^^ 
 A top, which, binds about the calf — 
 But 'tis not ev'ry one wouM ' hang 
 A calf skin on his recreant limb' — 
 But its description, I will try it ; 
 And if I fail, why — we'll pass by it. 
 
 Top boots (as far as I have knowledge in 
 Their real hist'ry) owe their origin 
 To that, which, the old Spanish Don 
 His legs was wont to pull upon : 
 The sole, or bottom part of it. 
 Was weather proof, and made to fit 
 The foot, in ev'ry shape and manner ; 
 Of a thick bulFs skin ; which, the tanner 
 By preparation, dress'd and dri'd. 
 Calling it afterwards, a hide — 
 I say the bottom part was strong, * '^ 
 
 And hard, and fit to walk upon ; 
 But all the other part, which, bound 
 The ancle, and the leg around. 
 Was far more soft, and pliable—* 
 And being long, was liable 
 
23 
 
 To be turned over, and to fall 
 
 From the thick o' the leg, to the small — 
 
 And that, which, was the lowest setter, 
 
 Looser, and easier — the better. 
 
 From this, our jockey boot was taken — 
 
 — Faith ! stare ; but I am not mistaken — 
 
 I say, this was the source, and root 
 
 Of what, we call our jockey boot ; 
 
 But now, I grant ye, no more like it '"^^ 
 
 Than, the grand Cairo, is — to Highgate. 
 
 Than other boots, now, this boot reaches 
 
 Much higher ; and is worn with breeches — 
 
 Breeches — we all know what they are ; 
 
 What men — and faith ! what women wear 
 
 Sometimes — but for those ladies, who 
 
 Never had any thing ado. 
 
 With this particular of dress, 
 
 I will endeavour to express 
 
 Their use ; and for so complicate 
 
 A thing, ril be as delicate 
 
 As I am able — if indeed 
 
 Any there be, who, may have need 
 
i!» 
 
 24 
 
 Of such an explanation ; but. 
 On further thought^ there's little doubt 
 That evVy woman, high or low. 
 Of own experience, doth know 
 What mystery therein may lie — - 
 So for the present,. lil pass by 
 The matter ; or you'll ne'er attend, 
 I fear, until I reach the end. 
 Then, to resume my first narration — 
 Unless, tip-toe your expectation. 
 Fair ladies, I have rais'd too much, 
 By this mere accidental touch — 
 Not — as I have observed before — 
 Of information, you'd get more 
 Than, that you have; but chance you may 
 Wish to hear, what I have to say — 
 But, I'm determin'd to go on. 
 Or, God knows when I shall have done. 
 Now, the low boot is wont to pop in 
 Between the trowser, and the stocking ; 
 And made more taper, than the high one ; 
 The heel of which, is tip'd with iron. 
 
25 
 
 Hessian^ was so call'd, because, wore. 
 And fashioned by a Hessian corps ; 
 Surmounted by a silken tassel, 
 Such as. Lord Foppinton, Count Cassel, 
 Think, generally, fit to use, 
 To ornament their scenic shoes. 
 So heretofore till now doth carry 
 The name, and style, both, mihtary : 
 Hand aliter^ that, now the ton — 
 Caird, the imperial Wellington. 
 In this, there is a fashion, handy. 
 And most convenient, for that dandy 
 Who, with a scant purse, wouM be thought 
 Of the correct, and proper sort : 
 A taper spur, or brass, or steel. 
 Is fix^d, with screws, upon the heel ; 
 So that, he have the full pretence, 
 (Without the burden of expense) 
 Of having but to please bis fancy. 
 To foot, or horse — though by no chance he , 
 E'er wore a stirrup in his day ; 
 Yet, it is hazardous to say, 
 
26 
 At the same time, he never wore 
 His irons on his feet, before — 
 But, I hiust beg you'll pardon me 
 For this unfitting irony. 
 
 But London, London, sing the fame 
 That, is attached to such a name. 
 As, I may tell — Smart, Rymer, Hoby^ 
 In making, give the v^orld the go by 
 Your boots, who can too highly rate 'm? 
 Make them, for ever — create 'em ! 
 
 What shall e er recompense the loss 
 Of Rymer's art, in Charing Cross ? 
 That he, that Cris^pin's chosen pride ; 
 Knight errant of the bull's dri'd hide ; 
 That man, whom princes deign to sue, 
 When needing of a boot or shoe ; 
 That mighty one, whose well wax'd hand 
 Measures the toes of half the land. 
 That ev'ry foot, by bis direction. 
 Becomes a model of perfection. 
 
 Smarty the next champion of the feet, 
 Full as notorious as the sti^eet, 
 
,27 
 
 In which, he shows his leathern ware 
 
 So valu'd ; Lisle Street, Leicester Square! ! — 
 
 regal street, in^which, ard seert^'^^ ' f^' 
 A Crispin Kingi and Cyprian Qtieen ! 
 For great, indeed, must be the fan>e 
 That, Smarts and Mother Conway claim ! 
 
 But Hobyy mightie'st of the three ; 
 Their oracle ; their deity ; ^^f(v^f^^ rfi <^T 
 
 So far the foremost of the clan. 
 In form alone, they think him man ; 
 And vain his Lordship, as the cit, rnaJ\ 
 
 Who cries, ' look ye, 'tis HobysJif-***r^ '^'<>«>' ^ 
 And dearly pays, but for the sake 
 Of saying, ' this is Hobys make' — 
 So chance you may^ whfeti ye shall go ^ '^^"^ 
 To wander in the shades below. 
 See him, among th' Elysian swarm, 
 Imperial Caesar on his arm. 
 ^ But stop — -'tis not a just reflection. 
 My talent oft is my affliction — ' ^ "*^^ ^ 
 
 Cries, gentle Hoby — * for I see, 
 
 1 make some men to walk so free 
 
28 
 And easy, that, they think no fun in 
 That kind of thing ; so, take to running : 
 For this, I shou'd not care a crack, 
 If, they wou'd now and then, trot back — 
 But, faith ! they are so light and clever, 
 That, they contrive to run for ever — 
 At any rate, they're not so silly, 
 To fix themselves near Piccadilly : 
 Woe be to them, who trust this rash age — 
 I find them merely birds of passage : 
 And yet what race of bird they be 
 I know not ; save they pigeon me : 
 Still Fve been able to descry 
 Their sure peculiarity : 
 For while, their feet alone, I leathery 
 They hide themselves — aye, altogether/ 
 
 The shoe complete, another thing 
 Of weight comes on, the polishing — 
 For best of shoes is nothing, lacking 
 The virtue of a brush and blacking. 
 
 Still, hail ye names ! and first of all, 
 On Day and Martin do I call ; 
 
29 
 Great spirits, witnesses ye stand, 
 With brilliant Warren in the Strand, 
 How all on us, or small or great, 
 Reflected be : ' immoderate 
 Boot polish swells into a fault' — '^ '^ '^^' 
 For, * dogs bark at us as we halt/ 
 Then, let the martin to the day. 
 Whistle the black jokes roundelay. 
 
 When some great man, a nation's pride, 
 Some far fam'd talent, may have died ; ' 
 Whose qualities, had made him great. 
 Above all others of the state — 
 Say, is it not our highest views. 
 That, we should tread within his shoes ? 
 
 WeVe somewhere read, not all the fair 
 Cou'd once a prince's heart ensnare ; 
 And, long, in vain, did poor and great 
 Essay his heart to captivate ; 
 Nor did that fairest, who, was thought 
 The very jewel of the court, 
 Untill, a fairy did equip her 
 With something very like a slipper ; 
 
30 
 
 Then, did her foot her charms evince, 
 And Cinderella won the prince, 
 So, credit me, next to the face, 
 A pretty foot's a winning grace ; 
 For you'll observe, that, if the feet 
 Be shapen d wi^ll, ajjd ancles meat, 
 It follows, almost, as a matter 
 Of course, that|> Ippking further at her, 
 You'll find the ancle, and the shoe-ties 
 Pointing the w^y to greater beauties. 
 
 Who is there of the sporting train. 
 That hazard on Newmarket plain, 
 But must in honesty confess 
 The boot's the foremost of the dr^ss ? 
 Wisdom, is Qften in the wig ; 
 But here, 'tis settl'd in the leg : 
 And yet, my masters, ye may doubt 
 The legs are black enough without — 
 'Tis thus — and known from certain proof, 
 They're worn to hide the cloven hoof. 
 
 Oh, happy ! had but Homer made 
 A something of a Hobyade; 
 
^1 
 
 For, not the robe imperial, 
 One tittle, is more classical, 
 Than, leathern boots — I do not mean 
 Such dandy boots, as now are seen ; * 
 Nor do I think, that, Thetis^ son 
 Wore what we call a Wellington ; 
 For sure enough, Achilles had none, 
 Ulysses, nor great Agamemnon, 
 Nor that vain coxcomb, whose delight is 
 To adonize, I mean Thersites ; 
 Still wrong is he, who, e'er disputes 
 The Grecians always fought in boots — 
 For Homer saith, both foot and riders 
 Scour'd down on Troy, ey knhmiaes.* 
 But, sure it needs not much, that, we 
 Should learn the immortality 
 Of sole ! we ask no second Cato — 
 — But, masters, as 'tis getting late O, 
 Fll say iiarewell ! and take my leave — 
 jBoo^, sandaly slipper, shoe, and greave: 
 
 ♦ Clererly booted. 
 
32 
 
 And, mayhap, ye wou'd like it better, 
 When next I speak, that, I should get a 
 Full sev'n leagued pair, and never bore ye 
 Agai% so slip shod^through a story. 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY