MAGAZINE PUBLISHER AND MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT)
BEING A TRUE AND PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF THE GRAND MILLING MATCH THAT DIDN’T TAKE PLACE
SAYS Tom D– to F–r
T’other morning, ‘I say, Sir,
You’ve call’d me a Roué, a Dicer, and Racer,
Now I’d have you to know, Sir,
Such names are “No Go,” Sir;
By Jove, Sir, I never knew anything grosser.
‘And then Madame —
Extremely distrest is
At your calling her Lais — she’s more like Thalestris,
As you’ll find, my fine joker,
If once you provoke her,
She’s a d–l if once she gets hold of a poker.
‘For myself, to be candid,
And not underhanded,
I write thus to say I’ll be hang’d if I stand it.
So give up the name
Of the man or the dame
Who has made this infernal attack on my fame,
And recall what you’ve said of
A man you’re afraid of,
Or turn out, my Trump, and let’s see what you’re made of.
‘I have “barkers” by Nock, Sir,
With percussion locks, Sir,
Will give you your gruel — hang me if I box, Sir,
And I’ve sent my old Pal in,
My “noble friend Allen,”
To give you this here, and to stop your caballing!’
Then says F–r, says he,
‘What a spoon you must be,
Tommy D–, to send this here message to me:
Why if I was to fight about
What my friends write about,
My life I should be in continual fright about!
‘As to telling you, who
Wrote that thing about you,
One word’s worth a thousand — Blow me if I do!
If you will be so gay, Sir,
The people will say, Sir,
That you are a Roué, and I’m