Make one grand splash, and all is done! One last advice you'll say is owing,-- When to be hang'd you find you're going, Which, for the robbing of your Master, Or some contingent slight disaster,-- Just knocking up a bit of bobbery, Manslaughter, or a highway robbery, So probably the lot of one, Vivacious, ever fond of fun, (Risking a mere ignoble carcass To emulate some noble Marquis), Fast-going ones, at naught who'd stick. To pass for a right (_Flanders?_) brick,-- Mark only this, your good behaviour Wins, with your craft, eternal favour. Deny, with loudest imprecations: They'll throng the court with attestations "Such honesty--before all men-- None e'er had yet, nor will again!" Confession make on no pretence, Save turning round King's evidence; (I don't suppose, though, aught I say Will save your neck another day,) Your noble spirit, never vex it, But make a sentimental exit! The Lord May'r 'll do whate'er he's able, "Hoping you've all things comfortable!" Ladies will send you costly flowers, To mollify your dying hours; And 'white Japonicas' shall thence Be emblems of your innocence! Pretend (to make the Parson stare) An extra-Ord'nary love of prayer; The Jailer give a fond adieu, And squeeze the Sheriff's hand in two. As for the Hangman, make a pother, As if you'd found a long-lost brother: Some pledge of kindness give the Mayor, If but a ringlet of your hair! Thus, to the last, the gallows grace, And none shall say, you've "lost your place." --------