The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 7/The Dean's Answer to the Stolen Crown
THE DEAN'S ANSWER.
SO, about twelve at night, the punk
Steals from the cully when he's drunk;
Nor is contented with a treat,
Without her privilege to cheat.
Nor can I the least difference find,
But that you left no clap behind.
But, jest apart, restore, you capon ye,
My twelve thirteens and sixpence ha'penny.
To eat my meat, and drink my medlicot,
And then to give me such a deadly cut —
But 'tis observ’d, that men in gowns
Are most inclin'd to plunder crowns.
Could you but change a crown as easy
As you can steal one, how 'twould please ye!
I thought the lady at St. Catharine's
Knew how to set you better patterns;
For this I will not dine with Agmondisham
And for his victuals let a ragman dish 'em.