Alexander Pennecuik

“ July enters, returning, without the kettle and stand.
Sir John.
July!—'S death!—July! or ass, or broom,
More you'd heed, when passing to a room.
July, (stopping.)
'S life—Just-Ass o-Peace!—Is that you there?
Sir John.
Yes—in this dark press behind the stair,
Where you throw old besoms, boots, and shoes.—
Come here, and tell me what is the news?—
Your opinion of things in general?—
Your stories? I know you've got several.
July. ”

“ They wonder how I can bear about,
Such a large crooked Toucan like snout;
Cry, singing, fool! becomes not a judge—
Hist! hist! who comes here?—hist!—let's not
budge!
SCENE SECOND.
Enter July, puffing and blowing as she passes, with a large kettle and stand.
Sir John, from the box, (with a low voice.)
July!—July my dear!—What's your haste!
Here I'm!—Here I'm!—In dark corner plac'd!
O Lud!—Ohon!—Oh! favour me kettle!
By thy weight at this place make her settle!—
She's gone!
SCENE THIRD.
Sir John, solus. ”

“ July! go bring the kettle and stand?
Why don't you notice what I command?—
Still trifling with that fellow, alone!—
Has any one seen the Knight, Sir John?—
I wish the coxcomb may not be lost!
Of such another we'd ne'er again boast;
So just a judge, so batter'd a beau,
With so little substance, and much show.
July, without.
Poor Just-ass! O, he'll be gone to rest,
So 'bout him you need not be distrest.
In some nook he'll be taking repose,
To relieve from the weight of his nose;
It, and his head, on some place to lay;
Sure, plaguily, 'tis oft' in his way. [1]
Sir John. ”