The Difficult French-Man's
Unsuccessful Adventers;
Or, A New Ballad of a Finical Monsieur, who came to Marry an English Lady, but could find none
for his purpose, till Conquer'd by a Crack.
Monsieur Pragmatical, was Shipt from Deep,
Landed at Dover, big with hopes to Reap
Clusters of Love from all the Female Sex,
He Courted those with Pearls about their Necks:
No mean-born Lady could this Fopp content,
For the best Mark we find his Bow was bent:
But after all his Courtship, he, alack,
Greedily grasp'd a Common Whetston-Crack.
To the Tune of, There was a brisk Lass, etc.
This may be Printed, R. P.
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MY Pockets begar, were lin'd very well,
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Vid many Pistoles, too many to tell,
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Den from de French shore me nimbly did trip,
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And got me a Cabbin vidin a great Ship;
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My Landed at Dover in two tree days,
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Where all pretty Women my beauty did praise,
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Me took up a Seat in de Coach for six Crown,
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And quickly dey brought me to dis fine Town.
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Me vent all about from place to place,
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To find out the best of de Female Race,
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Me went to de Court to see a fine Ball,
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But liked no face vidin White-Hall:
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Me walked to see St. James's-Park,
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De Ladies began, call me a fine Spark;
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De ver pretty French-man dey call a me now,
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And all de fine Dames make Curtsie or bow.
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In a Beautiful Coach me go to Hide-Park,
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Der were Couples as coming from Noah's Ark;
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As fine as de Sun, as rich and as Gay,
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As Glorious full as de Sun at Noon-day:
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But something me saw in every one,
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Dat made me forbear, and let dem alone;
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Der was not a Face that please a mind,
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Yet they strove me perceiv'd, who shou'd be most kind
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From thence me return a to Barthol'mew-Fair;
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Begar, pretty Lasses me often saw dere;
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Me went to de Show, and saw all de Play,
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And at Night me did come contented away;
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And as me did go to my Lodging again,
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A ver pretty Wench in Hozier-Lane;
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Pull'd me by de sleeve, and sat on my Lap,
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And begar, she did give me a swinging Clap.
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Murblew, it did pain a my body so sore,
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Two tree times an hour me Curse a de Whore;
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The Surgeon at last did make me ver well,
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And twenty Pistoles in his hand a me tell:
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Den me walked abroad to take de fresh Air,
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And met vid a Woman indifferent fair;
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She askt me to drink, but me come no more dere,
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For de trick dey did serve me at Barthol'mew-Fair.
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My Landlord soon after took me to de Play,
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An a very great Fortune did lodge by de way;
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He made me go Court her, and when we came dere
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Her delicate Breasts were naked and bare:
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Me play'd vid her Bubbys, her Lips me did kiss,
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Soon after me asked what Fortune is dis?
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Two Thousand a year, then they did reply,
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Begar, me no like such a Fortune, nor I.
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Me vil have ten tousand, or me wil have none,
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Begar, me be handsome, 'tis very well known;
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My Landlord did ask what Estate i'de in France,
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Me told him no more then Master Prance:
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But me have good shape, good feature, good Aire,
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Enough the best Dutches in Town to insnare,
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Me vil have ten tousand a year vid a Wife,
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Or else me vil lead a my single Life.
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But, alas! the Monsieur's mistaken I find,
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For he met with a Lass that was wonderful kind,
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Half Drunk she pickt up the poor Monsieur i'th dark,
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And carry'd him briskly to Whetstones-Park:
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She sent for a Parson, and Marry'd they were,
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Next morning the French-man began to stare;
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And when he perceiv'd what great Fortune he got,
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In Expressions like these, he bewailed his loss.
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Ah me! fat ta Devil have I a done now?
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Begar me have Marry'd a Nasty Sow:
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Me refuse a fine Ladies and Marry'd a Whore,
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Journee-blue, me be a Rogue an a Fool derfore:
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De English Men now do laugh in my face a,
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Dis to de poor French-man is much a disgrace a:
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Begar, me no like a dis Fashion, not me,
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Me vil leave this Land, and hasten to Sea.
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Me very much fear de Clapp a last Night,
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Begar, me do hate her to come in my sight:
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She chuck a my Chin, she kiss a my Cheek,
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Her Impudent actions do make a me Sick,
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Me hate her as bad as de Devil in Hell,
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She pick a my Pocket, me know full well,
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She take a ten Pistoles from poor sixteen,
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Begar, me vil run from de Impudent Quean.
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