THE
Lusty Friar of Dublin:
With an Account how he was catch'd a Bed with another Man's Wife, and for
that Cause was adjudg'd to part with his Codlings to his great Grief.
To the Tune of Old Simon the King. Licensed according to Order.
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THere was an old Fryar of late,
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that liv'd in Dublin City,
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And hard by the Castle great gate,
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now pray now attend to this Ditty:
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He lodg'd at the House of a Squire,
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whose Lady wou'd often presume,
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To suffer this bald-pated Fryar,
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to put his old Pope into Rome.
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This was an Irish Friar,
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This was an Irish Friar,
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who every day the Wanton did play
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And Cuckold his Landlord the Squire.
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His Landlord one Morning did fetch,
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a Walk which he lov'd as his life,
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Returning again he did catch,
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the Friar a Bed with his Wife:
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He run to the Covent, behold!
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this Friar in hopes to degrade,
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And there a sad Story he told,
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how he a poor Cuckold was made.
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This was an Irish Friar, etc.
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His brethren all by Consent,
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this Friar they there did beslave,
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Alloting him that Punishment,
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the Squire would covet or crave.
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The Landlord couragious and stout,
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declar'd to the Friary crew,
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That both his Stones should be cut out,
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that he no more mischief might do,
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This was an Irish Friar,
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This was an Irish Friar,
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who every day the Wanton did play, etc.
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They strait for a Surgeon did send,
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and gave him an hundred Pound,
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That he might the Friar befriend,
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and smother this terrible Wound:
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For though her astray then did run,
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such things we must often excuse,
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For surely he wou'd be undone,
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if he should those Play-fellows loose.
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This was an Irish Friar, etc.
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That day, that you must do the thing,
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we in the next Room will abide,
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A pair of Dog-stones you may bring,
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the which will the Mystery hide.
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He must on a Table be bound,
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and while you this work are about,
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Tho' you never give him a Wound,
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yet order him then to cry out.
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This was an Irish Friar, etc.
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The Landlord began to draw near,
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when they had bid the Surgeon prove true,
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And tho' he's a Friar ne'er fear,
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to make him an Eunuch too.
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Here take up your hundred pound,
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here Silver Guineas gullore,
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His Landlord said, I will be bound,
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when done, to give half as much more.
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This was an Irish Friar, etc.
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The day being come, he was ty'd
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fast down with a strong hempen-band,
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His Arms and his Legs open wide,
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he could nat stir head, foot or hand.
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The Friars, and Landlord likewise,
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sate waiting all in the next Room;
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To hear the most horrible crys,
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when Guelding was to be his Doom.
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This was an Irish Friar, etc.
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The Frier no fear had at all,
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but there did most patiently lye;
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And oft to the Surgeon did call,
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to Counsel him when he should cry,
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The Surgeon he thus did reply,
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you need not to keep such a roat,
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I'll warrant you by and by,
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you'll find when 'tis time to cry out.
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This was an Irish Friar, etc.
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The Friar was never at rest,
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but still would be acting of Groanes,
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He counted they were but in jest,
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but the Surgeon strait whipt off his Stones.
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As soon as this mischief befel him,
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though he was both lusty and stout,
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The Surgeon, he need not to tell him,
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he found it was time to cry out.
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This was an Irish Friar, etc.
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The Friars all running with speed,
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as soon as his Crys they did hear,
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And seeing their Brother to bleed,
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the Rogues they did tremble for fear,
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The Surgeon said, 'twas but Discretion,
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to Gueld all, were there many more,
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Then Lasses might come to Confession,
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And they not debauch them no more,
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The Friar he cursed the Knife,
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The Friar he cursed the Knife;
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He sighs and he groans for the loss of his Stones
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He had rather have parted with Life.
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