Lo, from this conquering lance Does flow the purest wine of France: And to appease your hunger, I Have in my helmet brought a pie; Lastly, to bear a part with these, Behold a buckler made of cheese. Of the direct parody in the burlesque a few instances will suffice. Almanzor, in "The Conquest of Granada," becomes the Drawcansir of Mr. Bayes's work; and while the former ejaculates-- He who dares love, and for that love must die, And, knowing this, dares yet love on, am I,-- the latter caps it with-- He that dares drink, and for that drink dares die, And knowing this, dares yet drink on, am I. Again, while Almanzor says to his rival in love-- Thou dar'st not marry her, while I'm in sight; With a bent brow, thy priest and thee I'll fright,-- Drawcansir, snatching the bowls of wine from the usurpers, cries-- Whoe'er to gulp one drop of this dare think, I'll stare away his very power to drink. The simile of the boar and the sow has often been quoted; it seems to have been always a favourite with our playgoing ancestors. In "The Conquest of Granada" we read:-- So two kind turtles, when a storm is nigh, Look up, and see it gathering in the sky.... Perch'd on some dropping branch, they sit alone, And coo and hearken to each other's moan. Mr. Bayes imitated this in what he called "one of the most delicate, dainty similes in the world, egad":-- So boar and sow, when any storm is nigh, Snuff up, and smell it gath'ring in the sky.... Pensive in mud they wallow all alone, And snort and gruntle to each other's moan. The example set by Buckingham in "The Rehearsal" was followed, more than half a century later, by Henry Fielding, in "The Tragedy of Tragedies, or the Life and Death of Tom Thumb the Great." This was brought out in 1730, in two acts, and was so immediately and largely successful that the author was induced to expand its two acts into three. It was afterwards published, with elaborate notes, setting forth a number of "parallel passages" from Dryden downwards, and with a preface, in which the supposed editor, H. Scriblerus Secundus, gravely assigned the origin of the "tragedy" to the age of Elizabeth. Apropos of parallel passages, the editor says:--