To BENEDICK

G—K, whom men, of ev'ry class, call A shuffling, avaricious r-sc-l, For full five years had K —k fobb'd off, And his fair name and fortune robb'd of; Allowing Falstaff's Wedding merit, And sworn to get it up with spirit, Yet shrinking back, from year to year, Thro' meanness, or invidious fear, Lest any other should be thought By Shakespeare's genius to be taught, Prior engagements still pretending, Which K—k finding still no end in; Each mushroom produce of the season To put off him still made a reason, Resolv'd at length its fate to know He claims an answer, yes, or no: Bent, as in G—k there no trust is, To do himself poetic justice; To shew for whom and what rejected, A piece approv'd is thus neglected. G—k, who sans equivocation, Deceit or mental reservation, Mean subterfuge or sly suggestion, Ne'er answer'd yet the plainest question; Conscious of ev'ry partial trick He others play'd, for sake of Bick, Demurs, and threatens life and law, If K—k dare his pen to draw; Who rising G—k's fair accuser, Is branded as a base traducer; By G—k ev'ry odium thrown On K—k's name, to save his own. So th' outlaw'd smuggler, base invader Of th' interests of the honest trader, His cargo seiz'd, himself in danger, Addresses ev'ry passing stranger; To bring the officer to shame, Brands him with an Informer's name. Informer, vile! he cries aloud, Informer, echoes thro' the crowd; Boys hoot, men cuff, and women scoff; Meanwhile the miscreant shuffles off: Thus knaves, supported by the mob, The private and the public rob.