Scripscrapologia or, Collins's Doggerel Dish Of All Sorts. Consisting of Songs Adapted to familiar Tunes, And which may be sung without the Chaunterpipe of an Italian Warbler, or the ravishing Accompaniments of Tweedle-Dum or Tweedle-Dee. Particularly those which have been most applauded in the author's once popular performance, call'd, The Brush. The Gallimaufry garnished with a variety of comic tales, quaint epigrams, whimsical epitaphs, &c. &c. [by John Collins] |
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THE LAUGHABLE ROBBERY;
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 | Scripscrapologia |  |
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THE LAUGHABLE ROBBERY;
OR, ONE ASS CHOUSED OUT OF ANOTHER.
[_]
Paraphrased and amplified from the prose of JOE MILLER, or some other old Jest Book; but as TOM FOOL said, when he had but seven Farthings in his Pocket, “That does not signify TWO PENCE.”
Two odd fellows once in a comical cue,
Who an odd sort of frolic were bent to pursue,
Took a ramble from Oxford to Abingdon Fair,
With their pockets and stomachs as empty as air;
Yet dastard despondency never could smother
Their hopes, to replenish both one and the other;
And through a green Lane as they trudg'd it along,
To avoid on the High-road the dust and the throng,
Their ears on a sudden were struck with the sound,
Of a Bumpkin's loud snoring, in slumber profound,
Stretch'd at length in a ditch, like a pig in a stye,
While his poor beast of burden was browzing hard by.
Zounds! says Archer to Sharp, here's a prize by the mass!
I'll strip myself naked while you strip the Ass:
And now, that being done, as we've no time to dally,
Put the geers upon Me, and dont stand shilly-shally,
But hide all my clothes 'tother side of yon hedge,
Then take Donky to Fair, and my life will I pledge,
That when you have sold him, be who will the buyer,
His Master no more for his Ass will enquire.
Who an odd sort of frolic were bent to pursue,
Took a ramble from Oxford to Abingdon Fair,
With their pockets and stomachs as empty as air;
Yet dastard despondency never could smother
Their hopes, to replenish both one and the other;
And through a green Lane as they trudg'd it along,
To avoid on the High-road the dust and the throng,
Their ears on a sudden were struck with the sound,
Of a Bumpkin's loud snoring, in slumber profound,
Stretch'd at length in a ditch, like a pig in a stye,
While his poor beast of burden was browzing hard by.
Zounds! says Archer to Sharp, here's a prize by the mass!
I'll strip myself naked while you strip the Ass:
And now, that being done, as we've no time to dally,
Put the geers upon Me, and dont stand shilly-shally,
But hide all my clothes 'tother side of yon hedge,
Then take Donky to Fair, and my life will I pledge,
That when you have sold him, be who will the buyer,
His Master no more for his Ass will enquire.
So off scamper'd Sharp with the Ass to the Fair,
While Archer knelt down, on All-fours, quite bare;
And giving the Bumpkin a kick, he awoke,
But far more surpris'd at the sight than the stroke,
When, instead of his Ass, the poor simpleton sees
A stark naked Man, on his hands and his knees!
And he rapp'd out an oath, in a terrible fright,
Od dam it, what's this? Hold says Archer, all's right;
The enchantment is broke,—I've regain'd my right shape,
And I'm sure you'll rejoice at my lucky escape:
For my Father, whom once I displeas'd you must know,
Has long dealt with the Devil, and some time ago,
In his conjuring freaks he transform'd me, alas!
From the figure and shape of a Man,—to an Ass!
In which plight you bought me,—but now I'm unwitch'd,
And new born, as it were, I must get me new breech'd.
So take your damn'd pack-saddle off from my back,
And let me in search of a Taylor go pack:—
You had better, without further curses or oaths,
Or my Father may make you supply me with Clothes.
While Archer knelt down, on All-fours, quite bare;
And giving the Bumpkin a kick, he awoke,
But far more surpris'd at the sight than the stroke,
When, instead of his Ass, the poor simpleton sees
A stark naked Man, on his hands and his knees!
And he rapp'd out an oath, in a terrible fright,
Od dam it, what's this? Hold says Archer, all's right;
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And I'm sure you'll rejoice at my lucky escape:
For my Father, whom once I displeas'd you must know,
Has long dealt with the Devil, and some time ago,
In his conjuring freaks he transform'd me, alas!
From the figure and shape of a Man,—to an Ass!
In which plight you bought me,—but now I'm unwitch'd,
And new born, as it were, I must get me new breech'd.
So take your damn'd pack-saddle off from my back,
And let me in search of a Taylor go pack:—
You had better, without further curses or oaths,
Or my Father may make you supply me with Clothes.
“You be vree,” says the Bumpkin, “without vurder arg'ing,
“And a dev'lish good riddance of such a damn'd bargain!”
So Archer, set free, to his Clothes did repair,
Slip'd them on, and soon follow'd his friend to the Fair,
Where the poor bubbl'd Hob-nail, in pitiful plight,
Being trick'd of one Ass by a conjuring Wight,
Follow'd after to purchase another outright:
And while through the throng he was beating the round,
To get one, if he could, that was young, strong, and sound,
On a sudden he started, and trembling, turn'd pale,
When a dealer presented poor Donkey for sale!—
And he cried, “I'll be chous'd by the Devil no more,
“For I'd have you to know I bought He once afore!—
“Od dam't! when we parted, I little thought then,
“He'd a quarrel'd so soon with old Square-toes agen!
“For the Poor Soul got free but this very forenoon;
“And now conjur'd again to a Jack-ass so soon!
“Why the old Toad deserves to be hung for't at least,
“To transmogrify Men to the shape of a Beast!
“But I wont take'n back, for mayhap if I should,
“He may serve me the same as his own flesh and blood!
“And for fear he should make a Jack-ass of Me too,
“I'll buy no more such bargains,—Dam Me if I do.”
Thus my Story concludes, and by what came to pass,
You see that the Numpscull refus'd his own Ass,
Tho' perhaps You'll refuse as a Truth to receive it,
And tell me,—that none but an Ass would believe it.
“And a dev'lish good riddance of such a damn'd bargain!”
So Archer, set free, to his Clothes did repair,
Slip'd them on, and soon follow'd his friend to the Fair,
Where the poor bubbl'd Hob-nail, in pitiful plight,
Being trick'd of one Ass by a conjuring Wight,
Follow'd after to purchase another outright:
And while through the throng he was beating the round,
To get one, if he could, that was young, strong, and sound,
On a sudden he started, and trembling, turn'd pale,
When a dealer presented poor Donkey for sale!—
And he cried, “I'll be chous'd by the Devil no more,
“For I'd have you to know I bought He once afore!—
“Od dam't! when we parted, I little thought then,
“He'd a quarrel'd so soon with old Square-toes agen!
“For the Poor Soul got free but this very forenoon;
“And now conjur'd again to a Jack-ass so soon!
“Why the old Toad deserves to be hung for't at least,
“To transmogrify Men to the shape of a Beast!
“But I wont take'n back, for mayhap if I should,
“He may serve me the same as his own flesh and blood!
“And for fear he should make a Jack-ass of Me too,
“I'll buy no more such bargains,—Dam Me if I do.”
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You see that the Numpscull refus'd his own Ass,
Tho' perhaps You'll refuse as a Truth to receive it,
And tell me,—that none but an Ass would believe it.
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