THE MAYOR OF DONCASTER.[191]

Sweet girls of Pindus, hither bring Your drums and bag-pipes hollow, The Mayor of Doncaster I sing,[192] Assist me O Apollo! His worship is a jolly squire, And loyal as a spaniel dog, His zeal as hot as kitchen fire, His head as learned and as big As that great philosophic log Whereon Puff trims his worship's wig. Nature had ta'en Herculean pains To scour his chambers clean from brains, And truly at a vast expence Had cur'd and purg'd them quite from evil sense. Brains, sense, and wit, are such low vulgar things As seldom trouble the heads of mayors or kings. What of the mayor of Doncaster, I pray? Sir he received a letter t'other day; Judge, readers, judge, what huge surprize Stretch'd like a brace of moons his eyes, Judge, how he gaped for joy, for breath, And show'd the ruins of his teeth; Judge, how his head sublimer grew, Judge, how his shoulders widen'd too, Judge, how he swung his arms about, Judge, how he mov'd his legs so stout, So big he look'd you would have swore A giant stood where stood a dwarf before. Reader, behold this wonderful epistle, And if thou canst not laugh, go whistle.— "King George's compliments to Mr. Mayor, Queen Charlotte also greets his lady fair. Their gracious majesties have heard with pleasure How you have sacrificed both time and treasure On flannel jackets, breeches, stockings, socks, Also on good warm petticoats and smocks, To clothe our gallant troops abroad in Flanders,[193] Their pretty lasses and our smart commanders, The queen and princesses are quite delighted, And king George swears such deeds shall be requited; Come, come to London, sir, come and be knighted." This note, signed "Granville," came by post, And (cheap enough) a silver shilling cost. No time must now be lost, he goes, he sends To all his wealthy corporation friends. The sleek-skinn'd brotherhood soon flock'd together, All in full spirits and full feather, With double chins and rosy faces, Pictures of bacchanalian graces, Expecting to behold a feast Of turtle exquisitely drest. They lick'd their chops, and stretch'd their maws, And blest the man that first invented jaws. Jaws form'd so wonderful and so complete, Jaws that can swear and pray and lie and eat; When lo! ah! disappointed paunches, Instead of vast sirloins and haunches, Bright dishes, shining knives and forks, Gay bottles, sparkling glasses, smacking corks, Up rose the mayor, with sage demeanour, And read the letter—for a dinner! He ended—and a broad prodigious grin Screw'd every face, and tugg'd up ev'ry chin. But yet mysterious silence hung A padlock upon every tongue; Then rearing his triumphant crest, Whilst knighthood caper'd in his breast, Thus the big mayor the aldermen addres't: "Ha! honest gem'men, don't ye see The king's most gracious majesty Has fall'n quite in love with me? Upon my honor, worthy gem'men, I never knew myself before. I've always been before a yeoman, Not very rich, not very poor, To-day, a man, like one of you, A knight to-morrow I shall ride In coach and six, with ribband blue, And sword-knot flaming by my side. On honor's ladder I intend to rise, Step after step until I reach the skies, A viscount, earl, a marquess, duke, I'll be, God only knows what may become of me, And really, gem'men, 'twould be no strange thing, If, in my turn, I should become a king." The aldermen all started from their places, And open'd all the windows of their faces, Each view'd the letter with a heart-heav'd groan. And wish'd a thousand times it was his own. Then bowing humbly to the mayor, Each offer'd up his solemn prayer.— "Make me," said one, "most gracious sir, A learned lord high chancellor." "And I," exclaimed a man of weight, "I'll be your minister of state." "Make me your majesty's physician," Cried a poor mean consumptive elf. "I'll be your majesty's musician," Said one who seem'd a corporation of himself. "Ask," quoth the mayor, "whate'er you want, And all, aye, more than all, I'll grant, Should heav'n bestow the golden fleece, By George! I'll make you dukes apiece!"— —"Fools, fools apiece," exclaim'd a fat Old wag, who in a corner sat. "Fools?" cried the mayor, abash'd, confounded, "Fools?" cried the aldermen, astounded. "Yes, fools apiece, fools altogether," Replied the wicked wag; "Fools, fools," he cried, "fools of one feather, I'll let the cat out o' the bag, This letter ne'er was writ by Granville, But forged on quite another anvil. 'Tis neither frank'd nor does the seal display A coat of arms magnificent and gay. Some Jacobin has sent the fabrication, Just to befool our learned corporation." Sneering he spake, then turn'd about, Took up his chapeau, and walked out. Ghastly and wild his worship stagger'd, And look'd as if he had been dagger'd. Stung to the stomach with vexation, The aldermen all roar'd, "Damnation!" The meeting, silent as the breaking day, Soft as the mountain snow did melt away. At first his worship stamp'd and storm'd and swore He never had been made a fool before, And therefore could not overlook it! But, second thoughts are best—his worship then Swore that he'd ne'er be made a fool again,— So put his vengeance in his pocket!