GEORGE BARNWELL In Bishop Percy’s _Reliques of Ancient English Poetry_ is the Ballad having this title, which the Bishop states had been printed at least as early as the middle of the 17th century. Upon this Ballad, George Lillo, the dramatist, founded a tragedy, entitled “_The London Merchant_, or the History of George Barnwell,” which was first performed at Drury Lane Theatre, in 1731. Lillo departed from the ballad by making Barnwell die repentant, thereby spoiling his dramatic character, and the piece was faulty in other respects, yet it held the stage for many years, and Mrs. Siddons frequently performed the part of the fair but naughty _Millwood_, and Charles Kemble was considered the best _Barnwell_ ever seen on the boards. At the time, therefore, that _Rejected Addresses_ were written, and for many years afterwards, _George Barnwell_ was a piece thoroughly familiar to London playgoers, consequently it was quite natural that the topic should be selected for a burlesque, and the following was written by James Smith:―― GEORGE BARNWELL. George Barnwell stood at the shop-door, A customer hoping to find, sir; His apron was hanging before, But the tail of his coat was behind, sir. A lady, so painted and smart, Cried, Sir, I’ve exhausted my stock o’ late; I’ve got nothing left but a groat―― Could you give me four penn’orth of chocolate? Rum ti, &c. Her face was rouged up to the eyes, Which made her look prouder and prouder; His hair stood on end with surprise, And hers with pomatum and powder. The business was soon understood; The lady, who wish’d to be more rich, Cries, Sweet sir, my name is Milwood, And I lodge at the Gunner’s in Shoreditch. Rum ti, &c. Now nightly he stole out, good lack! And into her lodging would pop, sir! And often forgot to come back, Leaving Master to shut up the shop, sir. Her beauty his wits did bereave―― Determined to be quite the crack O, He lounged at the Adam and Eve, And call’d for his gin and tobacco. Rum ti, &c. And now――for the truth must be told, Though none of a ’prentice should speak ill―― He stole from the till all the gold, And ate the lump sugar and treacle. In vain did his master exclaim, Dear George, don’t engage with that dragon; She’ll lead you to sorrow and shame, And leave you the devil a rag on, Your rum ti, &c. In vain he entreats and implores, The weak and incurable ninny, So kicks him at last out of doors, And Georgy soon spends his last guinea. His uncle, whose generous purse Had often relieved him, as I know, Now finding him grow worse and worse, Refused to come down with the rhino. Rum ti, &c.