"The Grand Question debated Whether Hamilton's Bawn should be turned into a Barrack or a Malt House"

THUS spoke to my Lady, the Knight full of Care;
Let me have your Advice in a weighty Affair.
This HAMILTON'S Bawn, while it sticks on my Hand,
I lose by the House what I get by the Land;
But how to dispose of it to the best Bidder,
For a Barrack or Malt-House, we must now consider.

FIRST, let me suppose I make it a Malt-House:
Here I have computed the Profit will fall t'us.
There's nine Hundred Pounds for Labour and Grain,
I increase it to Twelve, so three Hundred remain:
A handsome Addition for Wine and good Chear,
Three Dishes a Day, and three Hogsheads a Year.
With a Dozen large Vessels my Vault shall be stor'd,
No little scrub Joint shall come on my Board:
And you and the Dean no more shall combine,
To stint me at Night to one Bottle of Wine;
Nor shall I for his Humour, permit you to purloin
A Stone and a quarter of Beef from my Sirloin.
If I make it a Barrack, the Crown is my Tenant.
My Dear, I have ponder'd again and again on't:
In Poundage and Drawbacks, I lose half my Rent,
Whatever they give me I must be content,
Or join with the Court in ev'ry Debate,
And rather than that, I would lose my Estate.

THUS ended the Knight: Thus began his meek Wife:
It must, and it shall be a Barrack, my Life.
I'm grown a meer Mopus; no Company comes;
But a Rabble of Tenants, and rusty dull Rumms;
With Parsons, what Lady can keep herself clean?
I'm all over dawb'd when I sit by the Dean.
But, if you will give us a Barrack, my Dear,
The Captain, I'm sure, will always come here;
I then shall not value his Deanship a Straw,
For the Captain, I warrant, will keep him in Awe;
Or should he pretend to be brisk and alert,
Will tell him that Chaplains should not be so pert;
That Men of his Coat should be minding their Prayers,
And not among Ladies to give themselves Airs.

THUs argu'd my Lady, but argu'd in vain;
The Knight his Opinion resolv'd to maintain.
BUT Hannah, who listen'd to all that was past,
And could not endure so vulgar a Taste,
As soon as her Ladyship call'd to be drest,
Cry'd, Madam, why surely my Master's possest;
Sir Arthur the Malster! how fine it will sound?
I'd rather the BAWN were sunk under Ground.
But Madam, I guest there wou'd never come Good,
When I saw him so often with Darby and Wood.
And now my Dream's out: For I was a-dream'd
That I saw a huge Rat: O dear, how I scream'd!
And after, me thought, I had lost my new Shoes;
And, Molly, she said, I should near some ill News.

DEAR Madam, had you but the Spirit to teaze,
You might have a Barrack whenever you please:
And, Madam, I always believ'd you so stout,
That for twenty Denials you would not give out.
If I had a Husband like him, I purtest,
'Till he gave me my Will, I wou'd give him no Rest:
And rather than come in the same Pair of Sheets
With such a cross Man, I wou'd lye in the Streets.
But, Madam, I beg you contrive and invent,
And worry him out, 'till he gives his Consent.

DEAR Madam, whene'er of a Barrack I think,
An I were to be hang'd, I can't sleep a Wink:
For, if a new Crotchet comes into my Brain,
I can't get it out, tho' I'd never so fain.
I fancy already a Barrack contriv'd
At HAMILTON'S Bawn, and the Troop is arriv'd.
Of this, to be sure, Sir Arthur has Warning,
And waits on the Captain betimes the next Morning.

Now, see, when they meet, how their Honour's behave
Noble Captain, your Servant - Sir Arthur your Slave;
You honour me much - the Honour is mine, -
'Twas a sad rainy Night - but the Morning is fine -
Pray, how does my Lady? - My Wife's at your Service. -
I think I have seen her Picture by Jervis. -
Good Morrow, good Captain, - I'll wait on you down, -
You shan't stir a Foot - You'll think me a Clown -
For all the World, Captain, not half an Inch farther -
You must be obey'd - your Servant, Sir Arthur;
My humble Respects to my Lady unknown. -
I hope you will use my House as your own.

"Go, bring me my Smock, and leave off your Prate,
"Thou hast certainly gotten a Cup in thy Pate."
Pray, Madam, be quiet; what was it I said? -
You had like to have put it quite out of my Head.

NEXT Day, to be sure, the Captain will come,
At the Head of his Troop, with Trumpet and Drum:
Now, Madam, observe, how he marches in State:
The Man with the Kettle-drum enters the Gate;
Dub, dub, a-dub, dub. The Trumpeters follow,
Tantara, tantara, while all the Boys hollow.
See, now comes the Captain all dawb'd with gold Lace:
O law! the sweet Gentleman! look in his Face;
And see how he rides like a Lord of the Land,
With the fine flaming Sword that he holds in his Hand;
And his Horse, the dear Creter, it prances and rears,
With Ribbins in Knots, at its Tail and its Ears:
At last comes the Troop, by the Word of Command
Drawn up in our Court; when the Captain cries, STAND.
Your Ladyship lifts up the Sash to be seen,
(For sure, I had dizen'd you out like a Queen:)
The Captain, to shew he is proud of the Favour,
Looks up to your Window, and cocks up his Beaver.
(His Beaver is cock'd; pray, Madam, mark that,
For, a Captain of Horse never takes off his Hat;
Because he has never a Hand that is idle;
For, the Right holds the Sword, and the Left holds the Bridle,)
Then flourishes thrice his Sword in the Air,
As a Compliment due to a Lady so fair;
How I tremble to think of the Blood it hath spilt!
Then he low'rs down the Point, and kisses the Hilt.
Your Ladyship smiles, and thus you begin;
Pray, Captain, be pleas'd to light, and walk in:
The Captain salutes you with Congee profound;
And your Ladyship curchyes half way to the Ground!

KIT, run to your Master, and bid him come to us.
I'm sure he'll be proud of the Honour you do us;
And, Captain, you'll do us the Favour to stay,
And take a short Dinner here with us to-Day:
You're heartily welcome: But as for good Chear,
You come in the very worst Time of the Year;
If I had expected so worthy a Guest: -
Lord! Madam! your Ladyship sure is in jest;
You banter me, Madam, the Kingdom must grant -
You Officers, Captain, are so complaisant.

"HIST, Huzzy, I think I hear some Body coming -"
No, Madam; 'tis only Sir Arthur a humming.

To shorten my Tale, (for I hate a long Story,)
The Captain at Dinner appears in his Glory;
The Dean and the Doctor have humbled their Pride,
For the Captain's entreated to sit by your Side;
And, because he's their Betters, you carve for him first:
The Parsons, for Envy, are ready to burst:
The Servants amaz'd, are scarce ever able,
To keep off their Eyes, as they wait at the Table
And, Molly and I have t[h]rust in our Nose,
To peep at the Captain, in all his fine Clo'es:
Dear Madam, be sure he's a fine spoken Man,
Do but hear on the Clergy how glib his Tongue ran;
"And Madam, says he, if such Dinners you give,
"You'll never want Parsons as long as you live;
"I ne'er knew a Parson without a good Nose,
"But the Devil's as welcome wherever he goes:
"God damn me, they bid us reform and repent,
"But, Zounds, by their Looks, they never keep Lent:
"Mister Curate, for all your grave Looks, I'm afraid,
"You cast a Sheep's Eye on her Ladyship's Maid;
"I wish she wou'd lend you her pretty white Hand,
"In mending your Cassock, and smoothing your Band:
(For the Dean was so shabby and look'd like a Ninny,
That the Captain suppos'd he was Curate to Jenny.)
"Whenever you see a Cassock and Gown,
"A Hundred to One, but it covers a Clown;
"Observe how a Parson comes into a Room,
"God damn me, he hobbles as bad as my Groom;
"A Scholard, when just from his College broke loose,
"Can hardly tell how to cry Bo to a Goose;
"Your Noveds, and Blutraks, and Omurs and Stuff,
"By God they don't signify this Pinch of Snuff.
"To give a young Gentleman right Education,
"The Army's the only good School in the Nation;
"My School-Master call'd me a Dunce and a Fool,
"But at Cuffs I was always the Cock of the School;
"I never cou'd take to my Book for the Blood o'me,
"And the Puppy confess'd, he expected no Good o'me.
"He caught me one Morning coquetting his Wife,
"But he maul'd me, I ne'er was so maul'd in my Life;
"So, I took to the Road, and what's very odd,
"The first Man I robb'd was a Parson by God.
"Now Madam, you'll think it a strange Thing to say,
"But, the Sight of a Book makes me sick to this Day."

NEVER since I was born did I hear so much Wit,
And, Madam, I laugh'd till I thought I shou'd split.
So, then you look'd scornful, and snift at the Dean,
As, who shou'd say, Now, am I Skinny and Lean?
But, he durst not so much as once open his Lips,
And, the Doctor was plaguily down in the Hips.

THUS merciless Hannah ran on in her Talk,
Till she heard the Dean call, Will your Ladyship walk?
Her Ladyship answers, I'm just coming down;
Then, turning to Hannah, and forcing a Frown,
Altho' it was plain, in her Heart she was glad,
Cry'd, Huzzy, why sure the Wench is gone mad:
How cou'd these Chimeraes get into your Brains? -
Come hither, and take this old Gown for your Pains.
But the Dean, if this Secret shou'd come to his Ears,
Will never have done with his Gibes and his Jeers:
For your Life, not a Word of the Matter, I charge ye:
Give me but a Barrack, a Fig for the Clery.