The Cock-Pit Combat: OR, THE BAITING OF THE TIGER, On Thursday March 9. 1698.
AN Over grown
Cat, of a very large size,
To the wonder of
Fools, be it known to the
Wise,
Some Twelve-months ago was brought o'er from the
East,
Being grown from a
Kitten to a wonderful Beast:
From his
Strength, and his
Whiskers, his
Tallons and
Vigour,
Our
Bear-Garden Judges do say he'
[...] a
Tig
[...].
Being fam'd for his
Fierceness, his
Name, and his
Nature,
The Town was all Mad for a sight of the Creature:
Who was Collar'd and Fetter'd his Courage to cool,
Then all were admitted at Three pence
per Fool.
When each to his Beastliness had been a Bubble,
From Cobler and Crack, to the Knight and the Noble,
By stanch Politicians, the matter was stated,
For a Cunning By-End, that the Beast should be Baited.
The
Cock-pit was taken, and
Galleries built,
To Accommodate Lady, Lord, Bully, and Jilt;
Where Places were fitted from Guinea to Crown,
For the Worshipful Squire, to the Man of the Town:
The day was appointed, and all things agreed,
Three Dogs were procur'd, of the Slabber-chap'd-breed;
When the hour drew on, and each Longing Spectator,
Had taken their Seat in the
Cocks-combs Theatre,
The
Tyger was led down in Chains quickly a'ter,
As Tame to the Pit, as a Sheep to the Slaughter;
In Irons confin'd, and abundance of Tackle,
He rattled about, like a Thief in his Shackle.
Yet holding his Fetters in Noble Disdain,
He hopp'd to and fro, like a Flea in a Chain.
When the
Ladies all saw that the Beast was Secur'd,
And the
Beaus found no danger of being Devour'd,
Each Dog was led in by the Looby his Master,
Who trembled for fear of his Boobies disaster.
The
Tyger half frighted, look'd pittiful pale-on't,
And view'd with much Terrour each Yelping Assailant,
He Piss'd and he Growl'd, and he Growl'd and he Piss'd,
The Fools were all Frighted, the Wiser sort Hiss'd.
Then a Let-go was made, by the Lord of the Rout,
Who encourag'd his Dog with a
Hockly-hole Shout.
The
Tyger not us'd to their
Bear-Garden play,
Was amaz'd when he found he was got in a Fray,
And exerting his Strength, being terribly frighted,
He Kill'd the poor
Cur, as I hope to be Knighted;
Who has taken his farewel of
Bear and of
Bull,
As he liv'd like a Puppy, he dy'd like a Fool.
With the Rabbles Huzza then they Let go another,
To revenge the lost Blood of his Boobily Brother,
Who gave the poor
Tyger a
Bear-Garden Twirl,
And flung him on's Back, as a Man wou'd a Girl.
His sturdy Attendance, who watchfully waited,
Being angry to see his young Master so Baited,
He ups with his Pole, that the Blow might be fatal,
And knocks down the Dog in the midst of the Battel:
The Owner cry'd,
Z—ds, what d'ye mean, Sir, by that,
To discourage my Dog with a knock on the Pate,
For the Blow you have gi'n him, I'll give you another,
I'll stand by my Dog, as I wou'd by my Brother?
So to it they fell, with like Courage and Vigour,
And shew'd better Sport, than the
Dog and the
Tyger.
At the end of the squabble, the third was let go,
Who ran like a fury to Battel his Foe:
Made no more of the
Tyger (as People do brag-on)
Than a sturdy Knight-Errant, would do of a Dragon.
When they'd tumbled and bustled a little about,
Like Puppys at Play, for the Sport of the Rout,
They parted the Enemies, ended the Fray,
And the Crowd all affronted came grumbling away.
It is said by the Old
India Company too,
'Twas the meerest Sham-Battel that ever they knew.
Of this there's a great deal of stuff might be said,
But I learn'd when a Boy, what I'll keep till I'm Dead,
A close Mouth in many things makes a wise Head.
LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1699.