And there's a gang of Wenches who Oysters sell, And Powder _Moll_ with her sweet smell; She trudges up and down with Powder and Ball, _Whilst I sit getting Money, Money in my Stall_, &c.

And there's the jovial Girls with their Milking-Pails, Who trudge up and down with their Draggle Tails: Flip flapping at their Heels for Custom they call, _Whilst I sit getting Money, Money in my Stall_, &c.

'Tis these are the Gang who take great Pain, And it is those who do me maintain; But when it blows and rains I do pity them all, _To see them trudge about while I am in my Stall_, &c.

And there's many more who slave and toil, Their living to get, but it is not worth while, To mention them, so I'll sing in my Stall, _I am the happiest Mortal, Mortal of them all,_ _All, all, I am the happiest Mortal, Mortal of them all._

_The Merchant and the Fidler's_ WIFE.

[Music]

It was a Rich Merchant Man, That had both Ship and all; And he would cross the salt Seas, Tho' his cunning it was but small.

The Fidler and his Wife, They being nigh at hand; Would needs go sail along with him, From _Dover_ unto _Scotland_.

The Fidler's Wife look'd brisk, Which made the Merchant smile; He made no doubt to bring it about, The Fidler to beguile.

Is this thy Wife the Merchant said, She looks like an honest Spouse; Ay that she is, the Fidler said, That ever trod on Shoes.

Thy Confidence is very great, The Merchant then did say; If thou a Wager darest to bet, I'll tell thee what I will lay.

I'll lay my Ship against thy Fiddle, And all my Venture too; So _Peggy_ may gang along with me, My Cabin for to View.

If she continues one Hour with me, Thy true and constant Wife; Then shalt thou have my Ship and be, A Merchant all thy Life.

The Fidler was content, He Danc'd and Leap'd for joy; And tw.a.n.g'd his Fiddle in merriment, For _Peggy_ he thought was Coy.

Then _Peggy_ she went along, His Cabin for to View; And after her the Merchant-Man, Did follow, we found it true.

When they were once together, The Fidler was afraid; For he crep'd near in pitious fear, And thus to _Peggy_ he said.

Hold out, sweet _Peggy_ hold out, For the s.p.a.ce of two half Hours; If thou hold out, I make no doubt, But the Ship and Goods are ours.

In troth, sweet _Robin_, I cannot, He hath got me about the Middle; He's l.u.s.ty and strong, and hath laid me along, O _Robin_ thou'st lost thy Fiddle.

If I have lost my Fiddle, Then am I a Man undone; My Fiddle whereon I so often play'd, Away I needs must run.

O stay the Merchant said, And thou shalt keep thy place; And thou shalt have thy Fiddle again, But _Peggy_ shall carry the Case.

Poor _Robin_ hearing that, He look'd with a Merry-chear; His wife she was pleas'd, and the Merchant was eas'd, And jolly and brisk they were.

The Fidler he was mad, But valu'd it not a Fig; Then _Peggy_ unto her Husband said, Kind _Robin_ play us a Jigg.

Then he took up his Fiddle, And merrily he did play; The _Scottish Jigg_ and the _Horn pipe_, And eke the _Irish Hey_.

It was but in vain to grieve, The Deed it was done and past; Poor _Robin_ was born to carry the Horn, For _Peggy_ could not be Chast.

Then Fidlers all beware, Your Wives are kind you see; And he that's made for the Fidling Trade, Must never a Merchant be.

For _Peggy_ she knew right well, Although she was but a Woman; That Gamesters Drink, and Fidlers Wives, They are ever Free and Common.

_The Unconstant_ WOMAN.

[Music]

Did you not hear of a gallant Sailor, Whose Pockets they were lin'd with Gold; He fell in Love with a pretty Creature, As I to you the Truth unfold: With a kind Salute, and without Dispute, He thought to gain her for his own, _Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,_ _She has gone and left me all alone._

Don't you remember my pretty _Peggy_, The Oaths and Vows which you made to me: All in the Chamber we were together, That you would ne'er unconstant be: But you prove strange Love, and from me range, And leave me here to Sigh and Moan; _Unconstant Woman is true to no Man,_ _She's gone and left me all alone._

As I have Gold you shall have Treasure, Or any dainty kind of thing; Thou may'st command all Delights and Pleasure, And what you'd have, Love, I would you bring: But you prove shy, and at last deny, Him that admires you alone; _Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,_ _She's left me here to make my moan._

When first I saw your charming Beauty, I stood like one all in amaze; I study'd only how to pay Duty, And could not speak but only gaze, At last said I, fair Maid comply, And ease a wretched Lover's Moan; _Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,_ _She's gone and left me here alone._

I made her Presents of Rings and Jewels, With Diamond Stones I gave her too; She took them kindly, and call'd me Jewel, And said her Love to me was true: But in the end she prov'd unkind, When I thought she had been my own; _Unconstant Woman_, &c.

For three Months time we saw each other, And she oft said she'd be my Wife; I had her Father's Consent and Mother, I thought to have liv'd a happy Life: She'd laugh and toy both Night and Day, But at length she chang'd her Tone; _Unconstant Woman, proves true to no Man,_ _She's left me now to make my Moan._

Many a time we have walk'd together, Both Hand in Hand to an Arbour green; Where Tales of Love in Sun-shiny Weather, We did discourse and were not seen: With a kind Salute we did dispute, While we together were alone: _Unconstant Woman she's true to no Man,_ _She's gone and left me here alone._

Since _Peggy_ has my kindness slighted, I'll never trust a Woman more; 'Twas in her alone I e'er delighted, But since she's false I'll leave the Sh.o.a.r: In Ship I'll enter, on Seas I'll venture, And sail the World where I'm not known: _Unconstant Woman proves true to no Man,_ _She's gone and left me here alone._

_Sorrow banish'd in a_ MUG. _The Words_ _by Sir_ Edward Morgan.

[Music]

If Sorrow the Tyrant invade thy Breast, Haul out the foul Fiend by the Lug, the Lug, Let nought of to morrow disturb thy Rest, But dash out his Brains with a Mug, a Mug.

If Business unluckily goes not well, Let the fond Fools their Affections hug, To shew our Allegiance we'll go to the Bell, And banish Despair in a Mug, a Mug.

If thy Wife proves not one of the Best, the Best, But admits no time but to think, to think; Or the weight of thy Forehead bow down thy Crest, Divert the dull _Damon_ with Drink, with Drink, If Miss prove peevish and will not gee, Ne'er pine, ne'er pine at the wanton Pug, But find out a fairer, a kinder than she, And banish Dispair in a Mug, a Mug.

If dear a.s.signation be crost, be crost, And Mistress go home in a rage, a rage; Let not thy poor Heart like a Ship be tost, But with a brisk Brimmer engage, engage: What if the fine Fop and the Mask fall out.

And the one Hug, and t'other Tug, While they pish and fie, we will frolick in Stout, And banish all Care in a Mug, a Mug.

If toying young _Damon_ by _Sylvia's_ Charms, At length should look pale and perplexed be; To cure the Distemper and ease those harms, Go straight to the _Globe_ and ask Number three: There beauties like _Venus_ thou canst not lack, Be kind to them, they will sweetly hug; There's choice of the Fairest, the Brown or the Black.

Then banish Despair in a Mug, a Mug.