Extempore VERSES,

Upon a Tryal of Skill between the

Two Great Masters of the Noble Science of Defence, Meffrs. Figg and Sutton.

I.

LONG was the great Figg, by the prize Fighting Swains,
Sole Monarch acknowledg'd of Marybone Plains;
To the Towns, far and near, did his Valour extend,
And fwam down the River from Thame to Gravefend;
Where liv'd Mr. Sutton, Pipe-maker by Trade,
Who, hearing that Figg was thought fuch a ftout Blade,
Refolv❜d to put in for a Share of his Fame,

And fo fent to challenge the Champion of Thame.

II.

With alternate Advantage two Tryals had past, When they fought out the Rubbers on Wednesday last. To fee fuch a Conteft, the Houfe was fo full, There hardly was room left to thrust in your Skull. With a Prelude of Cudgels we firft were faluted, And two or three Shoulders moft handsomely fluted;

'Till wearied at laft with inferior Difafters, All the Company cry'd, Come, the Mafters, the Mafiers.

III.

Whereupon the bold Sutton first mounted the Stage, Made his Honours, as ufual, and yearn'd to engage; Then Figg, with a Visage so fierce and fedate, Came and enter'd the Lift with his fresh fhaven Pate; Their Arms were encircled by Armigers two, With a red Ribbon Sutton's, and Figg's with a blue. Thus adorn'd the two Heroes, 'twixt Shoulder and Elbow, Shook Hands, and went to't, and the Word it was Bilbo.

IV.

Sure fuch a Concern, in the Eyes of Spectators,
Was never yet feen in our Amphitheatres :

Our Commons, and Peers, from their feveral Places,
To half an Inch Distance all pointed their Faces;
While the Rays of old Phebus, that fhot thro' the Sky-

light,

Seem'd to make on the Stage a new kind of Twilight; And the Gods, without doubt, if one could but have

feen 'em,

Were peeping there thro' to do Juftice between 'em.

V. Figg

V.

Figg ftruck the firft Stroke, and with such a vast Fury, That he broke his huge Weapon in Twain, I affure you; And, if his brave Rival this Blow had not warded, His Head from his Shoulders had quite been difcarded; Figg arm'd him again, and they took t'other Tilt, And then Sutton's Blade run away from its Hilt. The Weapons were frighted, but as for the Men, In Truth, they ne'er minded, but at it again.

VI.

Such a Force in their Blows, you'd have thought it a
Wonder,

Every Stroke they receiv'd did not cleave them asunder;
Yet fo great was their Courage, fo equal their Skill,
That they both feem'd as fafe as a Thief in a Mill:
While in doubtful Attention Dame Victory stood,
And which Side to take could not tell for her Blood,
But remain'd, like the Afs 'twixt two Bottles of Hay,
Without ever moving an Inch either way.

VII.

Till Jove, to the Gods, fignified his Intention,

In a Speech that he made them, too tedious to mention ;
But the Upfhot on't was, that, at that very Bout,
From a Wound in Figg's Side the hot Blood spouted out.

Her

Her Ladyfhip then seem'd to think the Case plain;
But Figg stepping forth with a fullen difdain,

Shew'd the Gash, and appeal'd to the Company round,
If his own broken Sword had not given him the Wound?

VIII.

That Bruifes and Wounds a Man's Spirit fhould touch, With Danger fo little, with Honour fo much!Well, they both took a Dram, and return'd to the Battle, And with a fresh Fury they made the Swords rattle; While Sutton's Right Arm was obferved to bleed, By a Touch from his Rival; fo Jove had decreed; Juft enough for to fhew that his Blood was not Icor, But made up, like Figg's, of the common red Liquor.

IX.

Again they both rufh'd with fo equal a Fire on, That the Company cry'd,-Hold, enough of cold Iron. To the Quarter Staff, now Lads.So first having dram❜d it, They took to their Wood, and i'faith never fham'd it : The first Bout they had was so fair, and so handsome, That to make a fair Bargain, 'twas worth a King's Ranfom; And Sutton fuch Bangs to his Neighbour imparted, Wou'd have made any Fibres but Figg's to have smarted.

X.

Then after that Bout they went on to another, But the Matter muft end on fome Fashion or other;

So

So Jove told the Gods he had made a Decree,
That Figg fhould hit Sutton a Stroke on the Knee.
Tho' Sutton disabled, as soon as he hit him,

Wou'd ftill have fought on, but Jove wou'd not permit him; 'Twas his Fate, not his Fault, that conftrain'd him to yield, And thus the great Figg became Lord of the Field.

XI.

Now, after fuch Men, who can bear to be told
Of your Roman and Greek puny Heroes of old?
To compare fuch poor Dogs as Alcides, and Thefeus
To Sutton and Figg would be very facetious.

Were Hector himself, with Apollo to back him,

To encounter with Sutton-zooks, how he would thwack him!

Or Achilles, tho' old Mother Thetis had dipt him,
With Figg-odds my Life, how he would have unript

him!

XII.

To Cafar, and Pompey, for want of Things juster, We compare these brave Boys, but 'twill never pafs Mufter: Did those mighty Fellows e'er fight Hand to Fist once? No, I thank you; they kept at a laudable Distance. What is Pompey the Great, with his Armour begirt, To the much greater Sutton, who fought in his Shirt? Or is Figg to be par'd with a Cap-a-pec Roman, Who fcorn'd any Fence but a jolly Abdomen?

VERSES