Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy Volume V Part 2

_The_ GOOD FELLOW.

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Let's be jolly, fill our Gla.s.ses, Madness 'tis for us to think, How the World is rul'd by a.s.ses, That o'ersway the Wise with c.h.i.n.k: Let not such vain Thoughts oppress us, Riches prove to them a Snare; We are all as rich as _Croesus_, Drink your Gla.s.ses, take no care.

Wine will make us fresh as Roses, And our Sorrows all forgot; Let us fuddle well our Noses, Drink ourselves quite out of Debt: When grim Death is looking for us, Whilst we're singing o'er our Bowls; _Bacchus_ joyning in our Chorus, Death depart, here's none but Souls.

JOCKEY'S _Escape from_ DUNDEE; _and the Parsons Daughter whom he had Mow'd._

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Where gott'st thou the _Haver-mill bonack_?

Blind b.o.o.by can'st thou not see; Ise got it out of the _Scotch-man's_ Wallet, As he lig lousing him under a Tree: _Come fill up my Cup, come fill up my Can,_ _Come Saddle my Horse, and call up my Man;_ _Come open the Gates, and let me go free,_ _And shew me the way to bonny_ Dundee.

For I have neither robbed nor stole, Nor have I done any injury; But I have gotten a Fair Maid with Child, The Minister's Daughter of bonny _Dundee_: _Come fill up my Cup, come fill up my Can,_ _Come saddle my Horse and call up my Man,_ _Come open the Gates and let me go free,_ _And Ise gang no more to bonny_ Dundee.

Altho' Ise gotten her Maiden-head, Geud feth Ise given her mine in lieu; For when at her Daddy's Ise gang to Bed, Ise mow'd her without any more to do?

Ise cuddle her close, and gave her a Kiss, Pray tell now where is the harm of this, _Then open the Gates and let me go free,_ _And Ise gang no more to bonny_ Dundee.

All _Scotland_ ne'er afforded a La.s.s, So bonny and blith as _Jenny_ my dear; Ise gave her a Gown of Green on the Gra.s.s, But now Ise no longer must tarry here: Then saddle my Nag that's bonny and gay, For now it is time to gang hence away, _Then open the Gates and let me go free,_ _She's ken me no more to bonny_ Dundee.

In Liberty still I reckon to Reign, For why I have done no honest Man wrong; The Parson may take his Daughter again, For she'll be a Mammy before it is long: And have a young Lad or La.s.s of my breed, Ise think I have done her a generous deed; _Then open the Gates and let me go free,_ _For Ise gang no more to bonny_ Dundee.

Since _Jenny_ the Fair was willing and kind, And came to my Arms with a ready good will; A token of love Ise left her behind, Thus I have requited her kindness still: Tho' _Jenny_ the Fair I often had mow'd, Another may reap the harvest I sow'd, _Then open the Gates and let me go free,_ _She's ken me no more to bonny_ Dundee.

Her Daddy would have me to make her my Bride, But have and to hold I ne'er could endure; From bonny _Dundee_ this Day I will ride, It being a place not safe and secure: Then _Jenny_ farewel my Joy and my dear, With Sword in my Hand the pa.s.sage I'se clear; _Then open the Gates and let me go free,_ _For Ise gang no more to Bonny_ Dundee.

My Father he is a muckle good Leard, My Mother a Lady bonny and gay; Then while I have strength to handle a Sweard, The Parson's request Ise never obey: Then _Sawny_ my Man be thou of my Mind, In bonny _Dundee_ we'se ne'er be confin'd, _The Gates we will force to set ourselves free,_ _And never come more to bonny_ Dundee.

The _Sawny_ reply'd Ise never refuse, To fight for a Leard so valiant and bold; While I have a drop of Blood for to lose, E'er any fickle Loon shall keep us in hold: This Sweard in my Hand I'll valiantly weild, And fight by your side to kill or be kill'd, _For forcing the Gates and set ourselves free,_ _And so bid adieu to bonny_ Dundee.

With Sweard ready drawn they rid to the Gate, Where being denied an Entrance thro'

The Master and Man they fought at that rate, That some ran away, and others they slew: Thus _Jockey_ the Leard and _Sawny_ the Man, They valiantly fought as Highlanders can, _In spight of the Loons they set themselves free,_ _And so bid adieu to bonny_ Dundee.

_A_ SONG. _Sung by Mr._ Dogget.

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Let's sing of Stage-Coaches, and fear no Reproaches; for riding in one, but daily be jogging, while whistling, and flogging, while whistling and flogging, the Coachman drives on; with a hey geeup, geeup hey ho, with a hey gee Dobin hey ho, hey, geeup, geeup, geeup hey ho, geeup, geeup, geeup hey ho, with a hey, gee Dobin hey ho.]

In Coaches thus strowling, Who wou'd not be rowling; With Nymphs on each side, Still Pratling and Playing; Our Knees interlaying, We merrily ride.

_With a hey_, &c.

Here chance kindly mixes, All sorts and all s.e.xes, More Females than Men, We squeese 'em, we ease 'em, The jolting does please 'em, Drive jollily then, _With a hey_, &c.

The harder you're driving, The more 'tis reviving, Nor fear we to tell, For if the Coach tumble, We'll have a rare Jumble, And then up tails all, _With a hey_, &c.

_The Crafty Cracks of_ East-Smith-Field, _who pick't up a Master Colour upon_ Tower-Hill, _whom they Plundred of a Purse of_ Silver, _with above Threescore_ Guineas.

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You Master Colours pray draw near, And listen to my Report; My Grief is great, for lo of late, Two Ladies I chanc'd to Court: Who did meet me on _Tower-Hill_, Their Beauties I did behold: _Those Crafty Jades have learnt their Trades,_ _And plunder'd me of my Gold._

I'll tell you how it came to pa.s.s, This sorrowful Story is thus: Of Guineas bright a glorious Sight, I had in a Cat-skin Purse: The Value of near Fourscore Pounds, As good as e'er I had told, _Those Crafty Jades have learnt their Trades,_ _And plunder'd me of my Gold._

I saw two poor distressed Men, Who lay upon _Tower-Hill_, To whom in brief I gave Relief, According to my good Will: Two wanton Misses drawing near, My Guineas they did behold; They laid a Plot by which they Got, My Silver and yellow Gold.

They both address'd themselves to me, And thus they was pleas'd to say; Kind Sir, indeed, we stand in need, Altho' we are fine and gay: Of some Relief which you may give, I thought they were something bold; The Plot was laid, I was betray'd, And plunder'd of all my Gold.

Alas 'tis pity, then I cry'd, Such Ladies of good Repute, Should want Relief, therefore in brief, I gave 'em a kind Salute: Thought I of them I'll have my Will, Altho' I am something old; They were I see too wise for me, They plunder'd me of my Gold.

Then to _East-Smithfield_ was I led, And there I was entertain'd: With Kisses fine and Brandy Wine, In Merriment we remain'd: Methought it was the happiest Day, That ever I did behold; Sweet Meat ala.s.s! had sower Sauce, They plunder'd me of my Gold.

Time after Time to pay their Shot, My Guineas I would lug out; Those Misses they wou'd make me stay, And rally the other bout: I took my Fill of Pleasures then Altho' I was something old; Those Joys are past, they would not last, I'm plunder'd of all my Gold.

As I was at the wanton Game, My Pocket they fairly pick'd; And all my Wealth they took by stealth, Thus was a poor Colour trick'd: Let me therefore a Warning be, To Merchants both young and old; For now of late hard was my Fate, I'm plunder'd of all my Gold.

They got three Pounds in Silver bright, And Guineas above Threescore, Such sharping Cracks breaks Merchants Backs, I'll never come near them more: Sure now I have enough of them, My Sorrow cannot be told; That crafty Crew makes me look Blew, I'm plunder'd of all my Gold.

_The Dance of the_ USURER _and the_ Devil.

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Last _Christmas_ 'twas my chance, To be in _Paris_ City; Where I did see a Dance, In my conceit was very pretty--By men of France.

First came the Lord of _Pool_, And he begun his Measure; The next came in a Fool, And danc'd with him for pleasure--With his Tool.

The next a Knight came in, Who look'd as he would swagger; And after follow'd him A merry needy Beggar--Dancing in.

The next a Gentleman, On him a Servant tending, And there the Dance began, With nimble Bodies bending--Like two Friends.