_A Band, a Bob-Wig, and a Feather, Attack'd a Lady's Heart together. The Band, in a most learned Plea, Made up of deep Philosophy, Told her, if she wou'd please to wed A Reverend Beard, and take, instead Of vigorous Youth, Old solemn Truth, With Books and Morals into Bed, How happy she wou'd be. The Bob, he talk'd of Management, What wondrous Blessings Heaven sent On Care, and Pains, and Industry; And, truly, he must be so free To own, he thought your airy Beaux, With powder'd Wigs, and dancing Shoes, Were good for nothing (mend his Soul!), But prate, and talk, and play the Fool. He said, 'twas Wealth gave Joy and Mirth; And that to be the dearest Wife Of one, who labour'd all his Life, To make a Mine of Gold his own, And not spend ~Sixpence~ when he'd done, Was Heaven upon Earth. When these two Blades had done, d' ye see, The Feather (as it might be me) Steps out, Sir, from behind the Skreen, With such an Air, and such a Mien, Look you, old Gentleman, in short, He quickly spoil'd the Statesman's Sport. It prov'd such Sunshine Weather, That you must know, at the first Beck The Lady leapt about his Neck, And off they went together._ _To ~Esop~._] There's a Tale for your Tale, old Dad, and so----_Serviteur_. [_Exeunt._ [Illustration] THE FALSE FRIEND. A COMEDY. [Illustration] [Illustration] PROLOGUE. Spoken by Capt. _Griffin_.