The Cock-Pit Combat:
OR, THE
BAITING
OF THE
TIGER,
On Thursday March 9. 1698.
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AN Over-grown Cat, of a very large size,
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To the wonder of Fools, be it known to the Wise,
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Some Twelve-months ago was brought o'er from the East,
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Being grown from a Kitten to a wonderful Beast:
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From his Strength, and his Whiskers, his Tallons and Vigour,
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Our Bear-Garden Judges do say he's a Tiger.
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Being fam'd for his Fierceness, his Name, and his Nature,
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The Town was all Mad for a fight of the Creature:
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Who was Collar'd and Fetter'd his Courage to cool,
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Then all were admitted at Three pence per Fool.
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When each to his Beastliness had been a Bubble,
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From Cobler and Crack, to the Knight and the Noble,
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By stanch Politicians, the matter was stated,
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For a Cunning By-End, that the Beast should be Baited.
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The Cock-pit was taken, and Galleries built,
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To Accommodate Lady, Lord, Bully, and Jilt;
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Where Places were fitted from Guinea to Crown,
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For the Worshipful Squire, to the Man of the Town:
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The day was appointed, and all things agreed,
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Three Dogs were procur'd, of the Slabber-chap'd-breed;
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When the hour drew on, and each Longing Spectator,
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Had taken their Seat in the Cocks-combs Theatre,
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The Tyger was led down in Chains quickly a'ter,
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As Tame to the Pit, as a Sheep to the Slaughter;
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In Irons confin'd, and abundance of Tackle,
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He rattled about, like a Thief in his Shackle.
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Yet holding his Fetters in Noble Disdain,
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He hopp'd to and fro, like a Flea in a Chain.
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When the Ladies all saw that the Beast was Secur'd;
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And the Beaus found no danger of being Devour'd,
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Each Dog was led in by the Looby his Master,
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Who trembled for fear of his Boobies disaster.
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The Tyger half frighted, look'd pittiful pale-on't,
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And view'd with much Terrour each Yelping Assailant,
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He Piss'd and he Growl'd, and he Growl'd and he Piss'd,
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The Fools were all Frighted, the Wiser sort Hiss'd.
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Then a Let-go was made, by the Lord of the Rout,
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Who encourag'd his Dog with a Hockly-hole Shout.
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The Tyger not us'd to their Bear-Garden play,
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Was amaz'd when he found he was got in a Fray,
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And exerting his Strength, being terribly frighted,
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He Kill'd the poor Cur, as I hope to be Knighted;
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Who has taken his farewel of Bear and of Bull,
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As he liv'd like a Puppy, he dy'd like a Fool.
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With the Rabbles Huzza then they Let go another,
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To revenge the lost Blood of his Boobily Brother,
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Who gave the poor Tyger a Bear-Garden Twirl,
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And flung him on's Back, as a Man wou'd a Girl.
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His sturdy Attendance, who watchfully waited,
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Being angry to see his young Master so Baited,
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He ups with his Pole, that the Blow might be fatal,
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And knocks down the Dog in the midst of the Battel:
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The Owner cry'd, Z---ds, what d'ye mean, Sir, by that,
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To discourage my Dog with a knock on the Pate,
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For the Blow you have gi'n him, I'll give you another,
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I'll stand by my Dog, as I wou'd by my Brother?
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So to it they fell, with like Courage and Vigour,
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And shew'd better Sport, than the Dog and the Tyger.
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At the end of the squabble, the third was let go,
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Who ran like a fury to Battel his Foe:
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Made no more of the Tyger (as People do brag-on)
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Than a sturdy Knight-Errant, would do of a Dragon.
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When they'd tumbled and bustled a little about,
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Like Puppys at Play, for the Sport of the Rout,
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They parted the Enemies, ended the Fray,
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And the Crowd all affronted came grumbling away.
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It is said by the Old India Company too,
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'Twas the meerest Sham-Battel that ever they knew.
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Of this there's a great deal of stuff might might be said,
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But I learn'd when a Boy, what I'll keep till I'm Dead,
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A close Mouth in many things makes a wise Head.
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