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

His squires, much fearing for his life,
Rush'd in, preceded by his wife;
And lifting him upon their knees,
They gave him salts to make him sneeze,
Which thirteen times he did repeat,
Then started lively to his feet.
A feeling of relief ran through
The crowd, whose visages look'd rue,
To 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."