To serve for present we enough have got;
          Too much the whole at once, but by degrees,
          Your tithe we’ll take and all contrive to please. 
          With us arrange the hour you would be here,
          And some to-day:—­to-morrow more we’ll cheer;
          The whole in order, and you’ll clearly see,
          That softly with Fairly best agree.

          Thesex inclined to follow this advice;
          About receipts however they were not nice;
          The entertainment greatly was admired,
          And pure devotion all their bosoms fired,
          A glass of cordial some apart received;
          Good cheer was given, may be well believed;
          Ten youthful dames brisk friar Fripart took,
          Gay, airy, and engaging ev’ry look,
          Who paid with pleasure all the monk could wish;
          Some had fifteen:—­some twelve to taste their dish;
          Good friar Rock had twenty for his share,
          And gave such satisfaction to the fair,
          That some, to show they never grudged the price,
          And proved their punctuality,—­paid twice.

          So much indeed, that satiated with ways,
          That six long months engaged their nights and days: 
          They gladly credit would have given now,
          But found the ladies would not this allow,
          Believing it most positively wrong,
          To keep whate’er might to the church belong. 
          No tithe arrears were any where around,
          So zealous were the dames in duty found,
          They often in advance paid holy dues,
          How pure the monks!—­how just the ladies views! 
          The friars used despatch alone with those,
          That for their fascinating charms they chose,
          And sent the sempiternals to bestow,
          The tribute they had brought on those below,
          For in the refuse tithes that were their lot,
          The laicks oft pleasant pickings got. 
          In short ’twas difficult to say,
          What charity was shown from day to day.

          Ithappened that one night a married dame,
          Desirous to convey the monks their claim,
          And walking with her spouse just by the spot,
          Where dwelled the arch contrivers of the plot,
          Good Heavens! said she, I well remember now,
          I’ve business with a friar here, I vow;
          ’Twill presently be done if you’ll but wait;
          Religious duties we must ne’er abate. 
          What duties? cried the husband with surprise;
          You’re surely mad:—­’tis midnight I surmise;
          Confess yourself to-morrow if required;
          The holy fathers are to bed retired. 
          That makes no difference, the lady cried.—­