The candidate: by Mr. Gray. Gray, Thomas, 1716-1771. University of Oxford Text Archive
Oxford University Computing Services 13 Banbury Road Oxford OX2 6NN
ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/5025 1106020243 9781106020246 K094754.000 CW3304606368 0729700400 Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License The candidate: by Mr. Gray. Gray, Thomas, 1716-1771. [1],2,[1]p. ; 4⁰. [Twickenham : Strawberry Hill?, 1780?] Drop-head title. A squib against John Montagu, Earl of Sandwich, written at the time of his candidacy for the office of Seneschal of Cambridge University, 1764. Possibly a forgery. Reproduction of original from the British Library. English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT118227. Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).

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 English THE CANDIDATE: BY Mr. GRAY. WHEN sly Jemmy Twitcher had smugg'd up his face With a lick of court white-wash, and pious grimace, A wooing he went, where three Sisters of old In harmless society guttle and scold. Lord! Sister, says Physic to Law, I declare Such a sheep-biting look, such a pick-pocket air, Not I, for the Indies! you know I'm no prude; But his nose is a shame, and his eyes are so lewd! Then he shambles and straddles so oddly, I fear— No; at our time of life, 'twould be silly, my dear. I don't know, says Law, now methinks, for his look, 'Tis just like the picture in Rochester's book. But his character, Phyzzy, his morals, his life; When she died, I can't tell, but he once had a wife. They say he's no Christian, loves drinking and whoring, And all the town rings of his swearing and roaring, His lying, and filching, and Newgate-bird tricks:— Not I,—for a coronet, chariot and six. Divinity heard, between waking and dozing, Her sisters denying, and Jemmy proposing; From dinner she rose with her bumper in hand, She stroked up her belly, and stroked down her band. What a pother is here about wenching and roaring! Why David loved catches, and Solomon whoring. Did not Israel filch from th' Aegyptians of old Their jewels of silver, and jewels of gold? The prophet of Bethel, we read, told a lie: He drinks; so did Noah: he swears; so do I. To refuse him for such peccadillos, were odd; Besides, he repents, and he talks about G--. Never hang down your head, you poor penitent elf! Come, buss me, I'll be Mrs. Twitcher myself. D--n ye both for a couple of Puritan bitches! He's Christian enough, that repents, and that --------.