PLOT
OR NO PLOT
OR,
Sir W---m and his Spy foil'd
A New BALLAD.
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YE Lords, and ye Commons, give Ear to my Ditty,
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While I tell of a Plot lately hatch'd in the City,
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You have heard how a Mountain once brought forth a Mouse,
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Such a Labour I sing---No Offence to the H----.
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Derry Down.
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A Sett of True Britons, who've ne'er sold a Vote,
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And scorn'd for Court-Favour to alter their Note,
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Met together at Dtnner, as thinking with Reason,
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Roast Beef in Old England cou'd ne'er be deem'd Treason.
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Derry Down.
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Tho' they met, as they tell you no Mischief intending,
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Yet the Proof of the Pudding is found in the spending;
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For as Children are frighten'd with Tales of a Ghost,
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So our Courtiers they're scar'd with the Sound of a Toast.
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Derry Down.
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Nor think this Alarm of our Ministry strange;
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For who knows what's meant by the Royal Exchange;
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Thed the Words Absent Stewards smell strong of Rebelling,
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Since to make 'em High-Treason---wants only the Spelling
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Derry Down.
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Sir W----m suspecting some horrid Design,
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That endanger'd his Place and the Protestant Line,
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Dispatch'd a Court-Engine, whose Ear and whose Eye,
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Might remark what was doing----some call him a Spy.
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Derry Down.
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But some, who were surely no Friends to the Crown,
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Not liking the Face of our Spy, knock'd him down:
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The Knight sore enraged at this cruel Disaster,
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Thought a Plot for his Noddle would prove a good Plaister
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Derry Down.
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Besides, as he held, in such dangerous Times,
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For Tories to eat and to drink were high Crimes;
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So no Meal-Tub or Harlequin Puppy before,
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Produced such a Plot as this Dinner, he swore.
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Derry Down.
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To the H--e he complain'd then, and straight was appointed
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To search out this Scheme 'against the Lords High Anointed
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But like Scrub, when his Plot he reveal'd to Friend Martin
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Knowing not what to make on't, he thought made it certain
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Derry Down.
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For so closely these Tories their Project had smother'd,
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That the more he enquir'd the less he discover'd:
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So finding not one Wrinkle more in his A---,
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The H---e all concluded this Plot but a Farce.
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Derry Down
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Our Statesmen then cried, since we've made such a Pother
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And this Plot's too young, let us cook up another;
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For altho' our Knight's Credit has chanc'd to miscarry,
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Sure all will believe Honest Gentleman Harry.
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Derry Down.
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