all,A punishment light as a feather :Yet we triumph in death, as we Catalines fall,And go to the Devil together,Prologue to the Dreamer Anvnk: ; or the PugAjt Matched, a farce act d at ('.event (jarden in May. W rilten by P. Pindar.IN days of old the Fill had reputation, And Eoxing form’d a part of education;Do! Milo’s 6ft recorded—fam’d lor kuotks, Who idl’d—and then as quickly eat his ex. Ev'u Kings could box, the King of verl’e recites,And who will dare difpute what Homkl writes ?Nay, in that fame great Poet it is found, Divinities themfelves wou’d have a round. Jove (fays the venerable blind old bard)And Madam Juno very often fparr’d.Then, Hnce fuel names are on the boxing lift, Say, will not Britons patronize the Fill ? Fills fave the eipence of oaths ami blackguard names,When pertnefs pains, and impudence inflames;—A broken rib or two, a few black eyes,— No more,—and lo, at once the quarrel dies: The hands that juft before did vengeance hurl,Shake in fvviet friendship o’er a pint of purl. Dive hundred times a man by fift may fall,And rife,—but rarely when he drops by ball. For my part, 1 would rather feel a pullet Or beaf-lteak in my ftomach, than a bullet.They’re bad acquaintances, thofe piftol-lhot,