Song XLVIII., pp.300-301.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

Sung by Pinkanello, merry Andrew to Leverigo the Montebank Doctor

– 

HEre are people and sports, 

Of all sizes and sorts, 

Coach’d damsel and squire

And mob in the mire, 

Tarpaulins, Trugmallions

Lords, ladies, sows babies, 

And loobies in scores; 

Some hawling, some bawling, 

Some leering, some fleering, 

Some loving, some shoving, 

With legions of furbelow’d whores: 

To the tavern some go, 

And some to a show, 

See popets for mopets, 

Jack puddens for cuddens, 

Rope dancing, mares prancing, 

Boats flying, Quacks lying, 

Pick pockets, pick plackets, 

Beasts, Butchers and Beaux; 

Fops prattling, dice rattling, 

Rooks shaming, Putts daming, 

Whores painted, Masks tainted 

In taly-mans furbelow’d cloaths. 

The mob’s Joys wou’d ye know, 

To yon musick-house go, 

See taylors and sailors

Whores oily and doily, 

Hear musick makes you sick; 

Some skipping, some tripping, 

Some smoaking, some joaking, 

Like spiggit and tap; 

Short measure, strange pleasure, 

Thus billing and swilling, 

Some yearly get fairly 

For fairings, pig pork and a clap. 

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