The Audience.
THE Criticks that pretend to sense
Do cavel at the Audience,
As if his Grace were not as good
To bow to, as a piece of Wood.
Did not our Fathers heretofore
Their sensless Deities adore?
Did not old
Delphos all along
Vent Oracles without a Tongue?
And wisest Monarchs did importune
From the dumb God to know their fortune.
Did not the speaking Head of late
Of matters learnedly Debate?
And rendred without Tongue or Ears
Wise answers to his whisp'ring Peers?
And shall we to a living Prince
Deny the State of Audience?
What thô the Bantling cannot speak?
Yet like the Blockhead he may squeak;
Give Audience by Interpreter;
The wisest Prince can do no more.
Then enter with a Princes Banner
Sir
Charles after the usual manner.
Great Sir,
His Holiness from
Rome
Greets your high
Birth. The Prince cry'd
Mum.
The Consecrated Robe and Clout,
If you'll vouchsafe to hear me out,
And many other Toys I'm come
To lay them to your sacred Bum.
So young, yet such a Godlike Ray!
Phoebus your
Dad was Priest
D—a,
Great Prince, I have no more to say.
Conducted next there comes,
Great Sir,
An
Envoy from the
Emperor,
To gratulate your lucky fate,
That gives to
Englands Throne new date;
We joy that Any Thing should Reign,
To baffle
Orange and the
Dane.
The Youth, to see them thus beguil'd,
In token of his favour, smil'd.
But at the
Spaniard laugh'd outright.
As shamm'd again in
Eighty Eight.
Next, having pass'd the inward Centry,
The doubtful
Monsieur makes his entry.
The King my Master, Sir, has sent
Your
Royal Birth to complement;
If you will make it but appear,
That you are
Englands lawful Heir.
Here Lady
Powis took him short,
Frenchman.
Have you a King? Thank Maz'rine
for't.
Frenchman.
Whoe'r the Father was, the Mother
Was
France's Queen,
[Powis] Who
questions t' other?
At this Reproof he pawn'd a Purse,
And parting made his Peace with Nurse.
The
Dane, the
Suede, with other Nations
Come in with loud Congratulations.
Upon the
Suede so fam'd for Battle
He cast a frown and shook his Rattle.
And for the
Dane, who took the part
Of good Prince
George, he let a fart.
This put him in a sullen fit,
Nurse scarce could dance him out of it.
When an Embassador from
Poland
Knock'd at the Door, and
Velt from
Holland,
He crying Suck'd, and Sucking cry'd,
When Lady Governess reply'd,
Peace, Prince, Peace, Prince, Peace, pretty Prince,
And let the
States have Audience.
Dutchman.
From Holland
I am hither sent
Dutchman.
To Challenge, not to Complement.
Prepare with speed your Twenty Sail,
Your twice Four thousand on the Nail;
Which by your Senate was enacted,
With Orange
when your Sire
contracted.
The name of
Holland did affright
And make th' young Hero scream outright.
But,
Orange nam'd, the Royal Elf,
The sweet, sweet Babe beshit himself.
Tyrconnel, who came o'r no less
Than to be made his Governess,
To take her leave, by luck came in,
She suck'd his Nose, and lick'd him clean.
Last came the Lady
Hales from Play,
Mov'd by instinct he cry'd,
Mamma,
And posted to the Queen away.
EXIT.