Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 59, No. 368, June 1846 - Various

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think their fun forestall'd and spent

      By that untoward accident.

      Again the tuckets sound – again

      The dauntless heroes give the rein

      To their revenge. The Fox now charges

      The Wolf, and both his eyes enlarges,

      With right and lefters planted well,

      And punches on the nob that tell;

      So hard and fast the bangs and thumps,

      You'd thought that firemen at their pumps

      Were working —

      – crafty Reynard quick

      Deliver'd him a villain kick

      Right in the midriff – down he dropp'd!

      Like some tall forester when lopp'd

      By stroke of woodman's axe. 'Twas all

      He spake, not groaned in his fall,

      Outstretch'd upon the ground there lay

      The Wolf – he'd fainted clean away.

      No herald's voice, no tucket's cheer,

      The noble Isengrim could hear;

      An all but victor lately, now

      Prostrated, palsied by one blow;

      Nay, not so, by a kick unknightly,

      Foul aim'd, yet for the mark too rightly,

      Alas, its only merit that!

      But what cared Reynard, it was pat,

      And told, and did its business well;

      'Twas every thing desirable.

      The fight was o'er – the Wolf dragg'd out

      More dead than living, 'mid the shout

      Of rabble, whilst the heralds cry

      'Largesse,' the others 'Victory.'

      The air with noise and din resounded.

      The friends of Isengrim, confounded,

      Slunk off, whilst Reynard's stay'd; indeed

      The very people who agreed

      The Fox's death a public good

      Had been, now 'mong the foremost stood,

      By acclamations to attest

      Regard outheroding the rest!"

      We have not the heart to criticise this last and greatest effort of the reproducer. Its slang speaks for itself, and certainly carries along with it an undeniable "certificate of origin".

      A good translation of any thing is perhaps an impossibility. But it must be confessed, that the attempt of the German foreigner is highly creditable to him, and, with a little amendment, would probably afford our countrymen as fair an idea of the original as they are ever likely to see. Certain it is, that Mr Naylor has not improved upon it.

      If our readers think, that in the samples we have given of Mr Naylor's beauties, we have not sufficiently brought forward some of the more striking peculiarities of the Cockney school, we shall meet this complaint by presenting them with the subjoined anthology, the fragrance of which we think will satisfy their highest anticipations.

      "The first in consequence at court,

      As foremost in the public thought."

      "Your cap and gloves you've left in pawn,

      Thus adding ribaldry to scorn."

      "What visitors had been? they tell her

      How Reynard call'd, and said, 'nice fellow.'"

      "Malkin should fall! and now the fork

      By Martin turn'd to tomahawk."

      "No sooner had the foe withdrawn

      To howl around the priest forlorn."

      "Besides, he must have more than thought once

      Upon the very vast importance."

      "Of solemn asses half-a-score,

      Who kick, when tickled with a straw!"

      "I left him trapp'd, and then made sheer off:

      His sufferings you can't form idea of."

      "From underneath the frame I draw

      The pin that propp'd it: with a roar."

      "Their eggs upon a heap of straw,

      Then loitering hindermost, the more."

      "When it was bruited round the court

      How Reynard was by greybeard brought."

      "Grimalkin there one eye had lost,

      His scalp from Bruin's head been forced."

      "With any thing, in short, to fasten

      Guilt on him – burglary – e'en arson!"

      "Than at the words the Queen, alarm'd,

      Nigh swoon'd before her fears were calm'd."

      "The son dishonour'd: not a straw

      It weigh'd with him, to think how sore."

      "There dwelt my father; him they sought,

      And plotted, whilst they soak'd his port."

      "To practise after my papa—

      Through life my light and exemplar!"

      "Another life to lead he's sworn:

      And will to-morrow at the dawn."

      "Then, turning to the Queen, besought

      Her majesty in merry sport."

      "Quoth Reynard, as with sudden thought

      Before the portal stopping short."

      "We have so many a sally-port,

      And cul-de-sac, we can't be caught."

      "Send far and near the heralds forth,

      By blast of trump to tell my wrath."

      "At Rome, I on our banker draw,

      And when that's gone, I send for more."

      "That none dared venture! This he saw

      And felt his pluck return once more."

      "But I've no claws

      And therefore am not fit for wars."

      "By envy eaten up, they saw

      Me prosper; looking all before."

      "And ever, when they walk'd abroad

      Each arm'd with hunting-whip and cord."

      If any of our readers doubt the authenticity of some of the rhymes above set down, we are willing that they should buy the book, as we have done, and ascertain for themselves.

      Merciful as we are by nature, and growing more and more so every day by age, we yet feel that the enormities we have now denounced are beyond endurance. Such poetry as this, neither gods, men, nor booksellers should tolerate; and with the highest respect for the very excellent publishers who have assisted in the birth of this production, and to whom we owe so many useful and admirable contributions to knowledge and literature, we do venture humbly to submit, that their peculiar duty

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