A Fatal Pit to many a Gallant Cock, a Bloody Spot of Ireful Ground, on which the fierce _Bellona’s_ Shambles stands: Hither you early came prepared for Fight, and first at _Charleroy_ you dy’d your Sword in Gallic Blood, and with your Flaming Blade, cut your own way straight to _Gemblours_, from whence to _Charlemont_ you forced the _French_ to Fly.
And last of all before _Namure_; what mighty Vallour did you there display? a Limb you lost, yet limping still Fought on, and charged as unconcern’d as if you had had no Wound upon you, untill his Majesty was Pleased to give particuler orders to have you brought off, and sent to _Bredah_, where long you lay under the Surgeon’s Hands e’er you obtained a Cure: after which Winter coming on, the Camp broke up, and the Armies on both sides were sent to their Winter-quarters, and his Majesty King _William_ returned to the _Hague_ where you at last also arrived with Crutches, and there laid down your Arms, kiss’d the King’s Hand, and had a good Place at Court conferred upon you in the room of your Commission.
So that now you only wait at certain times, for which you are well rewarded, and have the Liberty of retiring to your Pleasant Country Seat, where now you spend most of your time amongst your Friends, and old Acquaintance, and reap the Comforts of a rural life, amidst two or three Loyal toping Souls, many good Cocks, and rich _October_ Liquor: with which you oft times guild the good old Doctor’s Nose, and raise the Pious Preachers Voice six Notes higher in the Afternoon, than in the Morning.
For though you daily take your Bottle, and Cock, as long as the Season lasts, yet you ne’er fail to attend the Man of God, when Sunday comes, early you to the Temple Ride, and there before the Alter offer up your Orizons with all the fervency immaginable, and in the Afternoon, when by the Sexton call’d, you bring the Priest back in your Coach well refreshed by a good Dinner, and a cheerful grace-cup after it, which enables him to perform Evening service briskly, and with a Laudable Voice pronounce a Blessing on you when the Vesper’s over.
Nor do your Tennants and poor Neighbours fail to pray for your long Life, and good success in Cocking, the only Sport you take delight in: And to speak Truth, you may really be said to be the only person of this present Age, that Practises _Cocking_ rightly, and follows it purely for the end it was at first intended.