University of Virginia Library

The DEVIL DISAPPOINTED.

When Satan first heard of the Popish Invasion,
And Priestcraft and Slavery threaten'd the Nation,
He order'd Ignatius and Lewis le Grand,
With Bonner and Peters to wait his command:
They, cringing and licking his hoofs, soon appear,
While Nick smiling ghastly, cries out with a sneer,
“Here, Scoundrels, here's news will make you look gay,
“All Europe must shortly acknowledge my sway;
“Young Charley bids fair for the Throne of Great-Britain,
“Which if he but once has the fortune to sit on,
“From these darksome regions below I'll remove,
“And jointly with him rule Old England above:
“From whipping and flogging a while I release ye,
“And what, I am certain, still better will please ye,
“With Heretic Blood you may now stuff and gorge,
“Drink Popery's Health, and Confusion to George:
“Rantum Scantum, ye Dogs, away and rejoice,
“And make Hell resound with your hollowing and noise:”
Soon said and soon done:—Away they are flown,
And quick thro' all Hell the glad Tidings made known;
On which such strange rackets and shoutings did follow,
The Devil himself could scarce hear his own holloo:—
Popes, Pickpockets, Jesuits, bald-pated Friars,
Whores, Cardinals, Highwaymen, Abbots, and Lyars,
Commix'd sans distinction, all bellow'd their zeal
For George's confusion, and Hell's common-weal.
Some weeks thus elaps'd, when a Courier came quick,
(The soul of a Jesuit) post—to Old Nick;
To the Presence when brought, he was order'd to tell
All he knew 'till his happy admission in Hell;
“What news his good Viceroy, the Pope, had sent greeting,
“With whom in a short time he hop'd for a Meeting:
“Tho' Lying of all things his Highness admir'd,
“The Truth, and nought else, at this time he requir'd.”
The Jesuit on this most submissively shew'd,
That speaking the Truth was quite out of his Road;
But to please his black Highness for once he wou'd try
To tell what had happen'd without the least Lye:—
With Charles's landing at Skie he began,
Told Edin's surrender, and fam'd Preston-Pan:
On taking Carlisle and the Lancashire rout,
Nick chuckled for joy, and Hell set up a shout;
But soon as Prince William was nam'd, our young Mars,
Their horns were drawn in, and each Fiend hung an A*se:—
“That ill-boding name,” cries Old Nick in a fright,
“Brings fresh to my mind that damn'd year Eighty-Eight:”
But Lord! when he heard what strange work had been brewing,
How all their wise schemes had brought on their own ruin;
How William had conquer'd, and Charley had fled,
Poor Devil he chang'd to the colour of Lead:
He blasphem'd, and damning the tongue that had told him,
Flew raging about so, that Hell cou'd scarce hold him;
Whilst all his toad-eating and hoof-licking crew,
Like sheep-biters sneaking, to corners withdrew:
“Are all my great hopes,” roars Old Belzy, blown over?
“Destroy'd by this Heretic House of Hanover?
“Shall Pop'ry and Slav'ry no more rear their head,
“And over Old England my influence spread?—
“No more like myself Papal Bulls roar aloud?
“Nor Jesuits, like Mountebanks, play on the crowd?
“Shall Smithfield Burnt-Off'rings no more shew my sway,
“Nor Britons to power despotic give way?
“In spite of my arts and my best Ally France,
“Shall Freedom and Trade still in England advance?
“Religion still flourish, and over the Main,
“With glory unmatch'd, British Navies still reign?
“Shall Brunswick, whom next to my Maker I hate,
“Still govern mankind, and my projects defeat?
“Zoons, Brimstone and Fury! I vow and declare it,
“Flesh and Blood—nay the Devil himself cannot bear it.”
So saying, half-spent, to his dungeon he crept,
Got drunk with French Brandy;—roar'd, grumbled, and slept.