THE CHALLENGE, A COURT BALLAD. TO THE TUNE OF 'TO ALL YOU LADIES NOW AT LAND.'

1 To one fair lady out of Court, And two fair ladies in, Who think the Turk72 and Pope73 a sport, And wit and love no sin; Come these soft lines, with nothing stiff in, To Bellenden, Lepell, and Griffin.74 With a fa, la, la. 2 What passes in the dark third row, And what behind the scene, Couches and crippled chairs I know, And garrets hung with green; I know the swing of sinful hack, Where many damsels cry alack. With a fa, la, la. 3 Then why to Courts should I repair, Where's such ado with Townshend? To hear each mortal stamp and swear, And every speech with 'zounds!' end; To hear 'em rail at honest Sunderland, And rashly blame the realm of Blunderland.75 With a fa, la, la. 4 Alas! like Schutz I cannot pun, Like Grafton court the Germans; Tell Pickenbourg how slim she's grown, Like Meadows76 run to sermons; To Court ambitious men may roam, But I and Marlbro' stay at home. With a fa, la, la. 5 In truth, by what I can discern Of courtiers, 'twixt you three, Some wit you have, and more may learn From Court, than Gay or me; Perhaps, in time, you'll leave high diet, To sup with us on milk and quiet. With a fa, la, la. 6 At Leicester Fields, a house full high, With door all painted green, Where ribbons wave upon the tie, (A milliner I mean;) There may you meet us, three to three, For Gay can well make two of me. With a fa, la, la. 7 But should you catch the prudish itch And each become a coward, Bring sometimes with you Lady Rich, And sometimes Mistress Howard; For virgins, to keep chaste, must go Abroad with such as are not so. With a fa, la, la. 8 And thus, fair maids, my ballad ends; God send the king safe landing;77 And make all honest ladies friends To armies that are standing; Preserve the limits of those nations, And take off ladies' limitations. With a fa, la, la.