The Age Reviewed A Satire: In two parts: Second edition, revised and corrected [by Robert Montgomery] |
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| II. |
 | The Age Reviewed |  |
A den
there is in London's foggy sphere,
To rank convenient, and to scoundrels dear,
Where purseless rogues, and monied knaves are met,
To share the easy purgat'ry of debt;
Free from the bailiff,—here's a calm retreat
For all who bravely live, and wisely cheat;
For all who go the dirty round of bills,
And live, like monarchs, on their empty tills!—
Far down the court extends the oblong pile,
With grated windows and o'er slanting tile;
Within, some choice old rascals sit at ease,
And curse, and grin, and guzzle as they please;
Or stretch'd luxurious on infected beds,
With pensive satisfaction rub their heads;
Without, some crack the joke, or sound the song,
Or puff their pipe-smoke on the passing throng;
More active, others 'gainst a circled wall,
With wiry bats hurl up the mountain ball;
Or, still as logs, upon a narrow seat,
Lay out their limbs and doze away the heat.
Oh! blest beyond cool Academus' glade,
Is England's shelter for her sons of Trade;
Where weary debtors rest quite snug awhile,
And plot how villains may become more vile!
To rank convenient, and to scoundrels dear,
Where purseless rogues, and monied knaves are met,
To share the easy purgat'ry of debt;
Free from the bailiff,—here's a calm retreat
For all who bravely live, and wisely cheat;
For all who go the dirty round of bills,
And live, like monarchs, on their empty tills!—
Far down the court extends the oblong pile,
With grated windows and o'er slanting tile;
Within, some choice old rascals sit at ease,
And curse, and grin, and guzzle as they please;
71
With pensive satisfaction rub their heads;
Without, some crack the joke, or sound the song,
Or puff their pipe-smoke on the passing throng;
More active, others 'gainst a circled wall,
With wiry bats hurl up the mountain ball;
Or, still as logs, upon a narrow seat,
Lay out their limbs and doze away the heat.
Oh! blest beyond cool Academus' glade,
Is England's shelter for her sons of Trade;
Where weary debtors rest quite snug awhile,
And plot how villains may become more vile!
The King's Bench was, no doubt, intended for a benevolent institution. But nothing has been more diabolically abused. It is the source of many a broken heart, and of many beggared families. The profligate and dissipated look to it as the haven of rest; the goal whence, after a due refreshment, and a further initiation into the mysteries of cozening, they start off again, with revigorated powers to renew the race.
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