_September 29, 1808._ _Nap and his Partner Joe._ Published by T. Tegg, 111 Cheapside.--The Dons of Spain and Portugal, reunited in a body, are heartily kicking the two Buonapartes into the mouth of a mysterious monster, opened for the reception of the pair and vomiting forth flames from a cavern supposed to represent the entrance to the infernal region.
So seeing we were fairly nick'd, Plump to the Devil we boldly kick'd Both Nap and his Partner Joe!
_October 1, 1808._ _Nap and his Friends in their Glory._ Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--A remarkably well assorted quartet, according to English views at the period, consisting of Napoleon, seated beside his friends Death, the Devil, and Joseph, ex-king of Spain. Napoleon, at whose back is a view of Malmaison, has risen to propose a toast: 'Come, gentlemen, here is success to plunder and massacre!' Two of the guests are receiving this sentiment with rapture, but 'Joe, the intruder,' is sitting in sulkiness, discomfited by the late experience which had been forced on him.
A NEW SONG--NAP AND HIS FRIENDS IN THEIR GLORY.
These Spaniards are terrible rogues, They will not submit to my fetters, With patience so gracefully worn-- Nay, sought for--by nations their betters. But let us return to the charge, And no longer with levity treat them, Once get them to lay down their arms, And I'll warrant, brave boys, we shall beat them. Rum ti iddidy-iddidy, Rum ti iddidy I do!
Brother Boney, we'll never despair, A trusty good friend I have found you, Kill, plunder, and burn, and destroy, And deal desolation around you. Then gaily let's push round the glass, We'll sing and run riot and revel, And I'm sure we shall have on our side, Our very good friend here, the Devil! Rum ti iddidy-iddidy, Rum ti iddidy I do!
Believe me, friend Death, you are right, Although I'm an ugly old fellow, When mischief is getting afloat, O then I am jolly and mellow. As soon as these Spaniards are crush'd Again we'll be merry and sing, Sirs, And that we will quickly 'complish, And Joey here, he shall be king, Sirs. Rum ti iddidy-iddidy, Rum ti iddidy I do!
Excuse me from lending my aid, You may jointly pursue them, and spike them, But lately I've seen them, and own, If I speak the plain truth, I don't like them. They Liberty cherish so dear, That they certainly make her their guide, O, Who pleases may make themselves King, But may I be devilled if I do! Rum ti iddidy-iddidy, Rum ti iddidy I do!