The Fourth Volume of the Writings Of the Author of the London-Spy ::

Come ye Lads with your Maids,
Bully-Prigs with your Jades,
And ye Cits with your Wives and your Daughters
Come ye merry young Flirts,
So inclin'd to Love's Sports
That your Mothers must watch your Waters.

Come ye Beaus and ye Culls
With your Furbelo'd Trulls,
Which you keep for the Pleasure of others;
Come ye Clowns with your Jugs,
Common Whores with your Rogues,
And ye Brats with your Fathers and Mothers.

156

Dress you all and repair
To old Barthol'mew Fair,
We have many strange Things to delight ye,
Very comical Drolls,
Full of Harlots and Fools,
With a Pope and a Devil to fright ye.

Here's the Siege of Toulon,
But because 'twas not won,
To old Troy we have vary'd the Matter,
Where that beautiful Piece,
Madam Helen of Greece
Was the Cause of such Bloodshed and Slaughter.

Here are numberless Shoals
Of Comedians and Fools,
And such Dogs that will caper and coopee,
Tho they're Dutch, they'll out dance,
Any Monsieur of France,
Or out Act any Barthtol'mew Puppy.

157

Here are Quacks in their Trunks.
With their travelling Punks,
Who will trip it on Ropes to please ye,
And if chance that your Eyes
Fall in Love with their Thighs,
They have something between that will ease ye.

Here's a Succubus black,
That will swing on her Back,
On a Rope that's as high as a Steeple;
And will hang by one Ham,
Like the Devil's own Dam,
To the Wonder of all Christian People.

Here are Punch and his Wife,
So perform'd to the Life,
With the Buttterfly flying about 'em,
And so merry they are,
That a Bumbkin would swear,
All the Fair wou'd be nothing without 'em

158

Tho they're chip'd out of Board,
You would think when they stirr'd,
They were Part of the Living Creation;
But that if you felt,
You would find Punch was gelt,
And his Wife without any Temptation.

Here are Booths for the Mob,
Where there's Musick and Bub,
Buy the last, you've the other for nothing,
And if, when you're drunk,
You've a Mind for a Punk,
Here are Whores for your liking or loathing.

Here are Cakes, Buns and Ale,
Very small, dear and stale,
Old Dances and Wine that is eager.
And Musick so famous,
You'd think 'twas the same as
Was plaid to the Devil Belfegar.

159

Here is Pork for Relief,
That's as fat as Neck Beef,
Very good, tho the Jews have so curst it;
And most excellent Pig,
That, at least, is as big
As the Bitch of a Spaniel that nurs'd it.

Here are Boats in the Air,
That will carry their Fare
Up and down, without sailing or rowing;
Also Coaches that fly
'Twixt the Earth and the Sky,
That to Heaven you'd think you were going,

Here are Damsons and Nuts
To breed Worms in your Guts,
And rare Filberts to help on the Pthisick,
Here is Drink to be sold,
By each Booby and Scold,
That is almost as pleasant as Physick.

160

Here are all sorts of Toys
Both for Girls and for Boys,
From the Drum to the Ginger-bread Baby,
And such Fairings for those
That will part their great Toes,
As may cost them their Noses it may be.

Here are Cloysters for Trulls,
And Raffling for Culls,
Whilst the Ladies, with mendicant Faces,
Sit by and receive
What each Blockhead will give,
As a Fee to ensure their Embraces.

Here's a cozening Game
With a Dutchify'd Name,
Most commonly call'd Rowly Powly;
Besides Women and Dice,
And all manner of Vice,
That can humour a Fool in his Folly.

161

Here are Whores of all sorts
For your amorous Sports,
And a gang of stanch Bullies to match 'em,
Here are Highwaymen too,
And a Pick-Pocket Crew,
If our Laws had the luck but to catch 'em.

Here is all that is vain,
That can Pleasure a Man,
From the Cit to the Country Looby,
From the Whore of Renown,
To the Punk of the Town,
From the Finkin Beau to the Booby,

Therefore you that delight
In a Jest or a Sight,
Or that need a fresh Lover's Embraces,
If you want to behold
Wicked Sodom of old,
Pray come hither and take your Places.

University of Virginia Library

Jack-Pudding's Invitation to Bartholemew Fair.