Since matters are thus, with proper submission Permit me to offer my humble Petition: (Though the form is uncommon, and lawyers may sneer, With truth I can tell you, the scribe is sincere.) * * * * * That, since it is plain we are going away, You will suffer Hugh Gaine unmolested to stay, His sand is near run (life itself is a span) So leave him to manage the best that he can: Whoe'er are his masters, or monarchs, or regents, For the future he's ready to swear them allegiance; The Crown he will promise to hold in disgrace:[228] The Bible--allow him to stick in its place, 'Till that, in due season, you wish to put down And bid him keep shop at the sign of the crown. If the Turk with his turban should set up at last here While he gives him protection, he'll own him his master, And yield due obedience (when Britain is gone) Though ruled by the sceptre of Presbyter John. My press, that has called you (as tyranny drove her) Rogues, rebels, and rascals, a thousand times over, Shall be at your service by day and by night, To publish whate'er you think proper to write; Those types which have raised George the third to a level With angels--shall prove him as black as the devil, To him that contrived him a shame and disgrace, Nor blest with one virtue to honour his race! Who knows but, in time, I may rise to be great, And have the good fortune to manage a State? Great noise among people great changes denotes, And I shall have money to purchase their votes-- The time is approaching, I venture to say, When folks worse than me will come into play, When your double faced[229] people will give themselves airs, And aim to take hold of the helm of affairs, While the honest bold soldier, who sought your renown, Like a dog in the dirt, shall be crushed and held down. Of honours and profits allow me a share! I frequently dream of a president's chair! And visions full often intrude on my brain, That for me to interpret, would rather be vain. Blest seasons advance, when Britons[230] shall find That they can be happy, and you[231] can be kind, When Rebels no longer at Traitors shall spurn, When Arnold himself will in triumph return! But my paper informs me it's time to conclude; I fear my Address has been rather too rude-- If it has--for my boldness your pardon I pray, And further, at present, presume not to say, Except that (for form's sake) in haste I remain Your humble Petitioner--honest--HUGH GAINE.[232]