And when arriv’d at this great legal source, He pli’d the knocker with uncommon force— The door is open’d, in our hero goes, And to the bear disgorges all his woes. Assist us, sir, or else, this very night, I and poor Sable shall be murder’d quite! At this request the learned bear turns out, And looks like one they, sometimes, lead about. I’ll pretty soon, he roars, the rabble clear, I’ll read the riot act, I’ve got it here! Go get the troops, and then we need not fear! How many troops? the soaking hero cri’d, All that you can, the learned bear repli’d. THE BARRACKS. Now to the Barracks flies the soaking chief, And calls for troops; assuming, bold and brief; I want some troops, to sergeant he did say At your peril dare to keep away! The sergeant-major to the guard-house hies, Turn out the piquet, there, he loudly cries, The word is pass’d, the soldiers prompt obey, And to the Steine that instant march away. THE STEINE. The troops arriv’d close to the learned bear, He reads the proclamation in their rear, And off he sculks half dead with dread and fear! The soaking chief, like one bereav’d of wits, And almost going into fainting fits, Charge on, exclaimed, no mercy I’ll afford! Why don’t you charge? You heard me give the word. Charge! charge! charge! charge! the sable knight replies, Charge! charge! again the soaking hero cries. The charge is made, alas, poor luckless Rowles, Thy life is gone, through these ambitious fools; The battle’s ended, and they look around, When some are lying stretch’d upon the ground; Some too with cuts and bruises there are found, Just at the end of this disgusting scene, A man of peace was walking on the Steine, The soaking hero cri’d What brought you here? Go home! go home! roar’d out the learned bear, To these insults the man of peace replies, With indignation beaming in his eyes, Nothing I said, nor nothing have I done; So when I please I, therefore, shall go home. You won’t go home, roar’d out the learned boar, So mind to-morrow, from me you shall hear. You look disdainful in my very face! I’ll bind you o’er to keep the public peace; In this, believe me, though it seems absurd, The learned monster strictly kept his word; The peaceful man, however hard his fare, Was bound, they say, next sessions to appear! A frantic mother running on the Steine, A poor man ask’d, have you my Billy seen? The man repl’d, I havn’t, on my soul; You’d better ask, I think, at the Black Hole. The wretched woman now borne down with grief, Flies to that place in hopes to find relief, Raps at the door, Who’s there? with voice quite grim, The night watch cried, we cannot take more in. ’Tis full of young and old, besides a quaker prim.