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“Hither it came from Holland, where 'twas

caught “ (I should not say it came, for it was brought); To-morrow we're to have it at Crane-court,* “ And 'tis a reptile of so strange a sort, “ That if ’tis cut in two, it is not dead; “ Its head shoots out a tail, its tail a head; “ Take out its middle, and observe its ends, “ Here a head rises, there a tail descends; “Or cut off any part that you desire, “ That part extends, and makes itself entire : “ But what it feeds on still remains a doubt, “ Or how it generates, is not found out:

grows in proportion to what it eats. The manner in which these insects multiply is evidently by vegetation; there is not on the body of the Polypus any distinguished place by which it brings forth its young; when one drops off, another comes in its place; take one, put it in perfect solitude in a glass, it will multiply, and if you feed them, their offspring will do the like, more or less, according to the plenty of food.

+ The Royal Society was held in Crane-court, Fleetstreet, at this time.

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" But at our Board, to-morrow, 'twill appear, “And then 'twill be consider'd and made clear, “For all the learned body will be there."

Lord, I must see it, or I'm undone,” The Duchess cry'd, pray can't you get me

one ?

“I never heard of such a thing before,
“I long to cut it and make fifty more;
“ I'd have a cage made up in taste for mine,
“ And, Dicky-you shall give me a design.”

But here the Gen’ral to a yawn gave way, And Stanhope had not one more word to say, So stretch'd on easy chairs in apathy they lay ; And, on each side the goddess they ador’d, One Charles sat speechless, and the other snor'd. When chaste Susanna’s all-subduing charms Made two old lovers languish for her arms, Soon as her eyes had thaw'd the frost of age, Their passions mounted into lustful rage;

With brutal violence they attack'd their prey, And almost bore the wish'd-for prize away.

Hail happy Duchess ! 'twixt two Elders plac'd, Whose passions brutal lust has ne'er disgrac'd; No warm expressions make your blushes rise, No ravish'd kiss shoots lightning from your eyes: Let them but visit you, they ask no more, . Guiltless they 'll gaze, and innocent adore.

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* Lord !” says her Grace, “they 'll thunder

down my door!" Into the room see sweating Lovel * break, The Duchess rises, and the Elders wake:

*

* Lord Lovel was son to Coke, Earl of Leicester; he married Lady Mary Campbell, youngest daughter to the Duke of Argyle, a match negociated by the Countesses of Leicester and Gower. Mr. Walpole observes, that “ Lady Mary, after consenting, cried her eyes out, that he has made her four visits, and is so in love with her, that he writes to her every other day ; 'tis a strange match ; she objects to his loving none of her sex, but the four queens in a pack of cards ; but he promises to abandon White's, and both clubs for her sake.”_W.

Lovel,—the oddest character in town;
A lover, statesman, connoisseur, buffoon :
Extract him well, this is his quintessence,
Much folly, but more cunning, and some sense;
To neither party in his heart inclin'd,
He steer'd twixt both with politics refin'd,
Voted with Walpole, and with Pultney din’d.

His lordship makes a bow, and takes his seat, Then opens with preliminary chat : “ I'm glad to see your Grace-the Gen'ral too “ Old Charles, how is it? Dicky! how d'ye do? “Madam, I hear that you were at the play, “ You did not say one word on’t yesterday ; I went, who'd no engagement any where, “ To th' Opera.”—“Were there many people

there ?" The Duchess cry’d.—“Yes, Madam, a great

many,' Says Lovel—“There were Chesterfield and

Fanny*

* Lady Frances Shirley, a much celebrated beauty.

“ In that eternal whisper which begun “ Ten years ago, and never will be done; “ For tho' you know he sees her ev'ry day, “ Still he has ever something new to say; “ There's nothing upon earth so hard to me, “ As keeping up discourse eternally ; “ He never lets the conversation fall, '. And I'm sure Fanny can't keep up the ball; “ I saw that her replies were never long, “And with her eyes she answer'd for her tongue : “ Poor I! am forc'd to keep my distance now, “She won't ev'n curt'sy if I make a bow."

.

“ Why, things are strangely chang'd,” the

Gen’ral cry'd ; Ay, fortune de la guerre,my lord reply'd : “ But you and I, Charles, hardly find things so, “ As we both did some twenty years ago.” “ And take off twenty years,” reply'd her Grace, “ 'Twould do no harm to Lady Fanny's face;

My Lord, you never see her but at night,
By th' advantageous help of candle-light:

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