That Antonio, whose piety caused, as we've seen, Him to spit upon every old Jew's gaberdine, And whose goodness to paint All colours were faint, Acquired the well-merited prefix of "Saint," And the Doge, his admirer, of honour the fount, Having given him a patent, and made him a Count, He went over to England, got nat'ralis'd there, And espous'd a rich heiress in Hanover Square. That Shylock came with him, no longer a Jew, But converted, I think may be possibly true, But that Walpole, as these self-same papers aver, By changing the _y_ in his name into _er_, Should allow him a fictitious surname to dish up, And in Seventeen-twenty-eight make him a Bishop, I cannot believe--but shall still think them two men Till some Sage proves the fact "with his usual _acumen_." MORAL. From this tale of the Bard It's uncommonly hard If an Editor can't draw a moral.--'Tis clear, Then,--In ev'ry young wife-seeking Bachelor's ear A maxim, 'bove all other stories, this one drums, "PITCH GREEK TO OLD HARRY, AND STICK TO CONUNDRUMS!!" To new-married Ladies this lesson it teaches, "You're 'no that far wrong' in assuming the breeches!" Monied men upon 'Change, and rich Merchants it schools To look well to assets--nor play with edge-tools! Last of all, this remarkable History shews men, What caution they need when they deal with old-clothesmen! So bid John and Mary To mind and be wary, And never let one of them come down the are'! * * * * *