The Rimers new Trimming.
To the tune of, In Sommer time.
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A Rimer of late in a Barbors shop,
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sate by for a trimming, to take his lot:
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Being minded with mirth untill his turne came,
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to drive away the time, he thus began.
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You barbarous Shavers that nimbly trim
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with Sissors & Rasor, and handling the Combe:
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Your rubbing, your brushing, your Ball, & Bason,
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displayes your fining of each one in fashion.
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You are no Pillers, but poulers i'th state,
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and still are shaving for what you can scrape:
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By excrementall Fees you purchase Pelfe,
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and wash from others; but keepe to your selfe.
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Your abusive Balles you clap in our eyes,
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making us wincke whilst you make up your prize
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With bobbing our Lips, & pullings by the Nose,
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and after to slap us i'th mouth with your Cloths.
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With your Liquor so hot, you often doe scald,
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& oft to your hands comes Crowns that are bald:
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The more that you clip them, the thinner they are,
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and tis for your profit they loose their Hayre.
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You frizzell, you currell your long Haire & Locks
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turns up their Moutchatos, snifled with Pox:
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Rub them with Musk-ball, & sprinkle Rose-water
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the snap of your Finger then followes after.
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Your pulling out Teeth, or stopping the hollow,
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your skill to cease paine, being but shallow,
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Making shew of a cure with a Masticke plaister,
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they from your chaire rising, a leg they scrape after
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Having thus passed their time in prating,
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the Chaire became empty, he his turne taking:
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To be trimmed, into what fashion or cut
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(quoth the Barbor) will it please you to be put:
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Good friend (quoth hee) I would be knowne,
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for knowledge is my living, now let be showne:
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Thy cunning in shaving so of my Face,
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that a blush may not stayne it to my disgrace.
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For such company I come in that will try,
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if they can stayne it with Vermilian die:
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Or dash me out of countenance by action:
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wherefore put me in the most shameles fashion.
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Feare it not then good sir, (quoth the Barbor:)
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Boy give me hither a Ball that will larther,
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And pound those precious gums so dusty;
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poynting to small Coale in a Pan all rusty.
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The Boy straight about his businesse hies.
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Now sir, saies the Barbor, keepe close your eyes
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For this Ball will proove somewhat tart,
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and twill disquiet you much to feele them smart.
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Quickly Boy, bring my varnishing Ball.
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Heere sir, and gives him the Coales beaten small
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Which over his Face he dusteth full thicke,
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and rubs him with Sope, the better to sticke.
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Being about his busines: sir (quoth the Barbor,)
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this Ball doth well scowre, and ease my labor:
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And though here needes no drying with Cloaths,
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yet I must be familiar to pull you by the Nose.
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Having done his exployt, made a great smoake;
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and under the Chayre set; being ready to choake:
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The Rimer up rose, and foorth of doores flung,
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they snatching off the Clothes on him that hung.
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And being gon out bedawbed and smeared,
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the people shouted, Boyes on him stared:
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He wondring at their laughing, thought his favour
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was very pleasing, that mooved such laughter.
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And seeing the Smoake ceased, went backe againe,
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with troupes following at his heeles amaine:
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The dore was shut, but at the Window as Glasse
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was set of purpose to shew him his Face.
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Which hee perceiving, did sweare and rave,
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quo'th Barbor, you are trimd like a riming knave
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Your quality is awdacious and base:
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now you having got a Vizard for your Face.
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Where next you are trimde, be not too bold,
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with scalding, and scraping; now you are pould:
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Least they noch your noddle, & spoyle your riming:
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and so much good doe you with your trimming.
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