A BALLAD ON QUADRILLE *. WRITTEN BY MR. CONGREVE. I. WHEN, as Corruption hence did go, When Ay said Ay, and No said No, Then Satan, thinking things went ill, II. Kings, queens, and knaves made And four fair suits he wore : All blotch'd and spotted o'er : III. Sure cards he has for ev'ry thing, But, if the parties manage ill, The king is forc'd to lose Codille, &c. On the subject of this ballad, see a letter from Arbuthnot to Swift, dated Nov. 8, 1725. IV. When two and two were met of old, But now, meet when and where you will, The commoner, and knight, the peer, Men of all ranks and fame, Leave to their wives the only care, To propagate their name; And well that duty they fulfil, When the good husband's at Quadrille, &c. VI. When patients lie in piteous case, In comes th' apothecary; And to the doctor cries, alas! Non debes quadrillare. The patient dies without a pill, For why? the doctor's at Quadrille, &c. VII. Should France and Spain again grow loud, VIII. THE VIII. The king of late drew forth his sword What are their feats of arms and skill? IX. A party late at Cambray met, Which drew all Europe's eyes; But somebody took something ill, X. And now, God save this noble realm, His subjects must play at Quadrille, Quadrille, Quadrille, &c. MOLLY MOG: OR, THE FAIR MAID OF THE INN*. SAYS my uncle, I pray you discover O nephew! your grief is but folly; I know that by wits 'tis recited, The schoolboy's delight is a play-day; Will-o'-wisp leads the traveller a gadding But no light can set me a madding, For guineas in other men's breeches The Rose inn, at Ockingham in Berkshire. But But I envy them none of their riches, The heart, when half wounded, is changing, Who follows all ladies of pleasure, I feel I'm in love to distraction, A letter when I am inditing, Comes Cupid, and gives me a jog; And I fill all the paper with writing Of nothing but sweet Molly Mog. If I would not give up the three Graces, Those faces want nature and spirit, Those who toast all the family royal In bumpers of hogan and nog, Have hearts not more true or more loyal Than mine to my sweet Molly Mog. FF 4 Were |