The English Spy, page 208 by Bernard Blackmantle
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n.
~238~~
Beau Brummell's bow had not the grace, Alvanly stood eclipsed in face, The Roués all were mute, So exquisite, so chaste, unique, The mark for every Leg and Greek, Who play the concave suit.{26} At Almack's, paradise o' the West, Tom's hand by prince and peer is press'd, And fashion cries supreme. His Op'ra box, and little quean, To lounge, to see, and to be seen, Makes life a pleasant dream. Such dreams, alas! are transient light, A glow of brightness and delight, That wakes to years of pain. Tom's round of pleasure soon was o'er, And clam'rous duns assail the door When credit's on the wane. His riches pay his folly's price, And vanish soon a sacrifice, Then friendly comrades fly; His ev'ry foible dragg'd to light, And faults (unheeded) crowd in sight, Asham'd to show his face. Beset by tradesmen, lawyers, bums,{21} He sinks where fashion never comes, A wealthier takes his place. Beat at all points, floor'd, and clean'd out, Tom yet resolv'd to brave it out,
36 Cards cut in a peculiar manner, to enable the Leg to fleece his Pigeon securely.
27 "Persons employed by the sheriff to hunt and seize human prey: they are always bound in sureties for the due execution of their office, and thence are called Bound Bailiff's, which the common people have corrupted into a much more homely ex-pression--to wit, Bum-Bailiffs or Bums."--l Black Com. 346.
~239~~
If die he must, die game. Some few months o'er, again he strays 'Midst scenes of former halcyon days, On other projects bent; No more ambitious of a name, Or mere unprofitable fame, On gain he's now intent, To deal a flush, or cog a die, Or plan a deep confed'racy To pluck a pigeon bare. Elected by the Legs a brother, His plan is to entrap some other In Greeting's fatal snare. Here for a time his arts succeed, But vice like his, it is decreed, Can never triumph long: A noble, who had been his prey,