How happy's that Husband who after few Years, Of railing and brawling, Confusion and Folly, Shall see his Lantipley drown'd in her Tears, Then prithee _Alexis_ be Jolly, be Jolly, Then prithee _Alexis_ be Jolly.

_A_ Song. _Set by Mr._ Leveridge.

[Music: Fortune is blind and Beauty unkind, the Devil take 'em both, one is a witch, & tothere's a b.i.t.c.h in neither's Faith or Troth: There's hazard in hap, deceit in a Lap, But no fraud in a Brimmer; If truth in the bottom lye, thence to redeem her we'll drain, we'll drain, we'll drain, we'll drain the whole Ocean dry.]

Honour's a Toy, For Fools a Decoy, Beset with Care and Fear; And that (I wuss) Kills many a Puss, Before her clymacht Year: But freedom and mirth, Create a new Birth, While Sack's the _Aqua Vitae_, That Vigour and Spirit gives, Liquor Almighty!

Whereby the poor Mortal lives.

Let us be blith, In spight of Death's Syth, And with an Heart and half, Drink to our Friends, And think of no Ends, But keep us sound and safe: While Healths do go round, No Malady's found, The Maw-sick in the Morning, For want of his wonted strain; Is as a Warning, To double it over again.

Let us maintain Our Traffique with _Spain_, And both the _Indies_ slight; Give us their Wines, Let them keep their Mines, We'll pardon Eighty Eight: There's more certain Wealth Secur'd from stealth, In one Pipe of Canary, Than in an unfortunate Isle; Let us be wary, We do not our selves beguile.

_The_ LATIN _to the foregoing_ SONG.

_Sors sine visu, Formaq; Risu, Sint pro Daemone; Haec malefica, Ita venefica, Fallax utraque; Sors mea est fors, Sinusque vecors, Sed fraus nulla; tu toto In fundo si veritas sit, Potu Epoto, Ocea.n.u.s situs fit._

_Honor & lusus, Stultis illusus, Cara catenata, Hacque (ut fatur) Catus necatur, Morte non parata: Dum vero Graecamur, Non Renovamur, Nam Aqua Vitae vinum, Vires spiritusque dat, Idque dicunum, A morte nos Elevat._

_Fam simus laeti, Spreta vi lethi, Cordatissime: Ut Combibones (non ut gnathones) Saxti-rectique: Dum proculae Spument, Morbi absument: Ac mane Corpus Onustum, Prae alienatione, Acuit gustum, Pro Iteratione_.

_Prestet quotannis, Merks c.u.m_ Hispanis, India _sit sola; Vinum praebeant, Aurum teneant, Absit spinola: Sunt opes, pro certo, Magis a furto, In Vini potione, Quam Terra Incognita; Pro cautione, Ne n.o.bis fit subdola._

_The Raree-show, from Father_ HOPKINS.

[Music]

From Father _Hopkins_, whose Vein did inspire him, _Bays_ sends this Raree-show publick to view; Prentices, Fops and their Footmen admire him, Thanks Patron, Painter, and Monsieur _Grabeau_.

Each Actor on the Stage his luck bewailing, Finds that his loss is Infallibly true; _Smith_, _Nokes_, and _Leigh_ in a Feaver with railing, Curse Poet, Painter, and Monsieur _Grabeau_.

_Betterton_, _Betterton_, thy Decorations, And the Machines were well written we knew; But all the Words were such stuff we want Patience, And little better is Monsieur _Grabeu_.

D---- me says _Underhill_, I'm out two hundred, Hoping that Rain-bows and Peac.o.c.ks would do; Who thought infallible _Tom_ could have blunder'd, A Plague upon him and Monsieur _Grabeu_.

_Lane_ thou hast no Applause for thy Capers, Tho' all without thee would make a Man spew; And a Month hence will not pay for the Tapers, Spite of _Jack Laureat_ and Monsieur _Grabeu_.

_Bays_ thou wouldst have thy Skill thought universal, Tho' thy dull Ear be to Musick untrue; Then whilst we strive to confute the _Rehearsal_, Prithee learn thrashing of Monsieur _Grabeu_.

With thy dull Prefaces still thou wouldst treat us, Striving to make thy dull Bauble look fair; So the horn'd Herd of the City do cheat us, Still most commending the worst of their Ware.

Leave making _Opera's_, and Writing _Lyricks_, 'Till thou hast Ears and canst alter thy strain; Stick to thy Talent of bold Panegyricks, And still remember the breathing the Vein.

Yet if thou thinkest the Town will extol 'em, Print thy dull Notes, but be thrifty and Wise; Instead of Angels subscrib'd for the Volume, Take a round Shilling, and thank my Advice.

In imitating thee this may be charming, Gleaning from Laureats is no shame at all; And let this Song be sung the next performing, Else ten to one but the Prices will fall.

_A_ SONG.

[Music]

Abroad as I was walking, I spy'd two Maids a wrestling, The one threw the other unto the Ground; One Maid she let a Fart, struck the other to the Heart, Was not this a grievous Wound?

This Fart it was heard into Mr. _Bowman's_ Yard, With a great and a mighty Power; For ought that I can tell, it blew down _Bridwell_, And so overcame the _Tower_.

It blew down _Paul's_ Steeple, and knock'd down many People, Alack was the more the pity; It blew down _Leaden-hall_, and the Meal-sacks and all, And the Meal flew about the City.

It blew down the _Exchange_, was not this very strange, And the Merchants of the City did wound; This Maid she like a Beast, turn'd her fugo to the _East_, And it roar'd in the Air like Thunder.

_The Jolly_ PEDLAR's _Pretty Thing_.

[Music]

A Pedlar proud as I heard tell, He came into a Town: With certain Wares he had to sell, Which he cry'd up and down: At first of all he did begin, With Ribbonds, or Laces, Points, or Pins, Gartering, Girdling, Tape, or Filleting, _Maids any Cunny-skins_.

I have of your fine perfumed Gloves, And made of the best Doe-skin; Such as young Men do give their Loves, When they their Favour Win: Besides he had many a prettier Thing _Than Ribbonds_, &c.

I have of your fine Necklaces, As ever you did behold; And of your Silk Handkerchiefs, That are lac'd round with Gold: Besides he had many a prettier Thing _Than Ribbonds_, &c.

Good fellow, says one, and smiling sat, Your Measure does somewhat Pinch; Beside you Measure at that rate, It wants above an Inch: And then he shew'd her a prettier Thing, _Than Ribbonds_, &c.

The Lady was pleas'd with what she had seen, And vow'd and did protest; Unless he'd shew it her once again, She never shou'd be at rest: With that he shew'd her his prettier Thing _Than Ribbonds_, &c.

With that the Pedlar began to huff, And said his Measure was good, If that she pleased to try his stuff, And take it whilst it stood: And than he gave her a prettier Thing, _Than Ribbonds_, &c.

Good fellow said she, when you come again, Pray bring good store of your Ware; And for new Customers do not sing, For I'll take all and to spare: With that she hugg'd his prettier Thing _Than Ribbonds, or Laces, Points, or Pins, Gartering, Girdling, Tape, or Filleting, Maids any Cunny-skins_.