Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy Volume VI Part 27

_A_ SONG, _by Mr._ ESCOURT, _To a Tune of Mr._ WELDON'S.

[Music]

The Ordinance a-board, Such Joys does afford, As no mortal, no mortal, no mortal, no mortal, no mortal e'er more can desire; Each Member repairs, From the _Tower_ to the stairs, And by water, by water, by water, they all go to fire.

Of each Piece that's a-sh.o.r.e, They search from the bore, And to proving, to proving, to proving, to proving, to proving, they go in fair Weather; Their Gla.s.ses are large, And whene'er they discharge, There's a boo huzza, a boo huzza, a boo huzza, Guns and b.u.mpers go off together.

Old _Vulcan_ for _Mars_, Fitted Tools for his Wars, To enable him, enable him, enable him, enable him, enable him to conquer the faster; But had _Mars_ ever been Upon our _Wolwich_ Green, To have heard boo, huzza, boo, huzza, boo, huzza, he'd have own'd Great _Marlborough_ his Master.

_A_ SONG.

[Music]

A Young Man and a Maid, _put in all, put in all_, Together lately play'd, _put in all_; The Young Man was in Jest, O the Maid she did protest: She bid him do his best, _put in all, put in all_.

With that her rowling Eyes, _put_, &c.

Turn'd upward to the Skies, _put_, &c.

My Skin is White you see, My Smock above my Knee, What wou'd you more of me, _put_, &c.

I hope my Neck and Breast, _put_, &c.

Lie open to your chest, _put in all_, The Young Man was in heat, The Maid did soundly Sweat, A little farther get, _put_, &c.

According to her Will, _put_, &c.

This Young Man try'd his Skill, _put in all_; But the Proverb plain does tell, That use them ne'er so well, For an Inch they'd take an Ell, _put_, &c.

When they had ended sport, _put_, &c.

She found him all too short, _put in all_; For when he'd done his best, The Maid she did protest, 'Twas nothing but a Jest, _put in all, put in all_.

_A_ SONG. _The Words by_ JO. HAINS, _Set by Mr._ CHURCH.

[Music]

I Courted and Writ, Shew'd my Love and my Wit, And still pretty _Flavia_ deny'd; 'Twas her Virtue I thought, Made me prove such a Sot, To adore her the more for her Pride: 'Till I happen'd to sit, By her Mask'd in a Pit, Whilst a crowd of gay Beaus held her play; When so wantonly free, Was her smart Repartee, I was cur'd and went blus.h.i.+ng, went blus.h.i.+ng away.

How Lovers Mistake, The Addresses they make, When they swear to be Constant and true; For all the Nymphs hold, Tho' the Sport be still old, That their Play-mates must ever be new: Each pretty new Toy, How they'll long to enjoy, And then for a newer will Pine; But when they perceive, Others like what they leave, Then they cry for their Bauble again.

PERKIN _in a_ Cole-Sack: _Or, the_ Collier's _Buxome Wife of St._ James's.

[Music]

Come all that are disposed a while, And listen to my Story; I shall not you of ought beguile, But plainly lay before ye: How Buxome _Ruth_ had often strove, With no small Pains and Labour; Her own Sufficiency to prove, By many a Brawny Neighbour.

She oft was heard for to Complain, But still with little Profit; That Nature made her Charms in vain, Unless some good come of it: Her b.o.o.by seldom was at home, And therefore could not please her; Which made more welcome Guest to come, In Charity to ease her.

Her wishes all were for an Heir, Tho' _Venus_ still refus'd her; Which made the pensive Sinner Swear The G.o.ddess had abus'd her: And since her Suit she did deny, To shew her good Intention; She was resolv'd her self to try An Old, but rare Invention.

Abroad by known Example taught, To one with Child she hasts her; Whereby five Guineas which she brought, The Bargain is made fast, Sir: The Infant soon as brought to light, (For so they had agreed it) Must fall to Buxome _Ruth_ by right, To save her sinking Credit.

Her petticoats with Cus.h.i.+ons rear'd, Her Belly struts before her; Her _Ben's_ Abilitys are prais'd, And he poor Fool adores her.

Her Stomach sick, and squeamish grown, She pewkes like Breeding Woman, While he is proud to make it known, That he has prov'd a true Man.

Nine Months compleat, the trusty Dame, Her Pain she finds increases; While _Ruth_ affected with the same, Makes ugly and wry Faces: And now a Coach must needs be had, The Brat to shake about, Sir; But e'er return'd _Ben_ was a Dad, For _Perkin_ had crept out, Sir.

The good Ale Firkin strait is tapp'd, And Women all are Jolly; While no one in her round is 'scap'd, For fear of Melancholy: And _Ruth_ in Bed could in her turn, Tho' modest of Behaviour; With all her Heart a Bob have born, Had she not fear'd a Feaver.

Thus Jovially the time they spend, In Merriment and Quaffing; Whilst each one does the Brat commend, As _Ben_ did still keep Laughing: And now to tell is my Intent, How Fortune to Distaste her; _Ruth's_ future Boasting did prevent, By one most sad Disaster.

A Search was made at t'other Home, By Overseers quick sighted; The Mother to Confession comes, By Threats being much Affrighted; Thus all their Mirth at once was Cool, Fate all their hopes did hamper; So _Ben_ lives on the self same Fool, Tho' _Ruth_ was forc'd to scamper.

_And if the Truth of this you doubt, The Overseers can make it out._

_The Man of_ Honour: _Or, the Unconstant World turn'd upside down: To the foregoing_ Tune.

How is the World transform'd of late, In Country, Court, and City; As if we were decreed by Fate, To sing a mournful Ditty: About the dismal change of Things, There was no sooth in Fauner; In the blest Reigns of former Kings, _When I was a Man of Honour_.

I kept a Castle of my own, With Land five Thousand Acres; When old King _Harry_ grac'd the Throne, Before the Time of Quakers: My Doors and Gates stood open Wide, I lackt no Ring nor Runner; An Ox each Day I did provide, _When I was_, &c.

My Guess all Day went in and out, To Feast and cheer their Senses; Could I but bring the Year about, I grudg'd not my Expences: My Talent was to feast the Poor, I valu'd no Court Fauner; Of Cooks I kept full half a Score, _When I was_, &c.

When _Christmas_ Day was drawing near, To Cheer and make them Merry; I Broach'd my humming Stout _March_ Beer, As brown as the Hawthorn Berry: Of which there was not any lack, I was my self the Donor; 'Twas fetch'd up in a Leathern _Jack_, _When I was_, &c.

I never lay in Trades-mens Books, For Gaudy Silks or Sattins; Nor did I pay with Frowning looks, Or broken Sc.r.a.ps of _Latin_: They had my Gold and Silver free, I fear'd not any Dunner; All Men was glad to deal with me, _When I was a Man of Honour_.

I never kept my _Hawkes_ and _Hounds_, Or Lew'd and Wanton Misses; I'd never sell or Mortgage Towns, To purchase Charming Kisses: Of those that seek their Prey by Night, Each cunning Female Fauner; My Lady was my Hearts Delight, _When I was_, &c.

I never hid my n.o.ble Head, For any Debt contracted; Nor from the Nation have I fled, For Treasons basely Acted: Nor did I in the least Rebel, To make my self a Runner: My Loyalty was known full well, _When I was_, &c.

I never did betray my trust, For Bribes more sweet than Honey; Nor was I false, or so unjust, To sink the Nations Money: My _Lands_ and _Livings_ to enlarge, By wronging each good Donor: I Built not at the Nation's Charge, _When I was_, &c.

We find now in these latter Days, Some Men hath delegated; From Truth, and found out greedy ways, This should be regulated: And act henceforth with Heart and Hand, Oppose the Sons of _Bonner_; I lov'd my King and serv'd my Land, _When I was_, &c.

For Bounty, Love and large Relief, For n.o.ble Conversation; For easing the poor Widows Grief, In Times of Lamentation: For House of Hospitality, I'll challenge any Donor; There's few or none that can outvey, _King_ Henry's _Man of Honour_.