The ranting Whores resolution;
Wherein you find that her only Treasure
Consisteth in being a Lady of Pleasure.
To the Tune of, General Monks March .
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O H! fye upon care
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Why should we despair,
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Give me the Lad that will frollick,
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There is no disease,
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But musick will please,
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If it were the stone or the cholick.
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The Lords that drinks Wine,
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Shall only be mine,
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He that calls for a Cup of Canary,
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That will tipple and sing,
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Kiss, caper, and spring,
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And calls for his Mab, and his Mary.
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Such Sinners as these
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My pallat will please,
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For this is a Lad that will knock it,
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Provided he be
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Not Niggard to me,
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But carry good gilt in his pocket;
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I care not from whence
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He gets his expence,
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Nor how he comes by his treasure,
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So I have the sweets
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When he and I meets,
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For I am a Lady of pleasure.
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I love a young Heir,
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Whose fortune is fair,
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And frollick in Fishstreet -dinners,
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Who boldly doth call,
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And in private payes all,
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These Boyes are the noble beginners,
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For what the old Father
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In long time did gather,
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He toaps it away without measure,
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Hee'l lye in my lap,
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Like a Bird in a trap,
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And call me his Lady of pleasure.
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The second Part. To the same Tune.
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H E wears gallant Cloaths
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And studies new Oaths
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And gets pretty words from the players,
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He swaggers and Roars,
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He calls the next Oars,
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And cryes here's a peece for your fair,
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Thus we in delight
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From morning till night,
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Do study to cast away treasure,
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At night in my arms
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I secure him from harms,
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For I am a Lady of pleasure.
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When this Gallant's broke,
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I've another be spoke,
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And he hath my protection,
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I call him my Love,
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My Jewel, my Dove,
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And swear by my reputation,
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That I never did know,
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What Love was till now,
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Though I have had men beyond measure
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With such tricks as these
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All Coxcombs I please,
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For I am a Lady of pleasure.
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When they are in Jayle,
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They wretchedly rail
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And at me they cast all their curses,
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Let them laugh that win,
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I care not a pin,
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When I have confounded their purses,
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While they have disgraces,
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I know not their faces,
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When Warriers of Woodstreet make seizure
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But when they'r whole men
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I'le know them agen,
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For I am a Lady of pleasure.
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I live by the quick
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And not by the sick,
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Or such whose estate lies a bleeding,
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My wast must be bound;
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By men that are sound,
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For I am a Lass of high feeding,
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If once they grow poor,
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No Money, no Whore,
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And yet they shall wait on my leisure,
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I only fulfill,
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My fancy and will,
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Which shews me a Lady of pleasure.
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I laugh when they tell
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My stories of Hell
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I think there is no such Cavrn,
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If Heaven there be
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(As some will tell me)
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I am sure it must be in the Tavern,
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Where there is no wine,
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There is nothing devine;
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We think of a grave at more leisure,
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Boy fill th'other glass
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For I am Lass
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That will be a Lady of pleasure.
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In freedom and joyes
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I'le spend all my dayes,
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For there is no greater blessing,
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Than musick and meat
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Good wine and the feat,
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And nothing to pay for the dressing,
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Let Sisters precise
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Go turn up their eyes,
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And speak words by line and by leisure,
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If death comes at last,
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And take me in haste,
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Then there lies a Lady of pleasure.
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