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EBBA 21937

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
The Maidens Frolicksome Undertaking
To Press Twenty Taylors,
With the Success of that Comical Adventure.
To the Tune of, An Orange. Licensed according to Order.

LAte near Temple-Bar, a Frollick we hear,
Which many brisk Fellows did put in much fear
Ten Lasses i'th' Strand, did take it in hand,
In Seamens disguise, for to Press and Command
Twenty Taylors.

Moll, Nelly, and Sue, with Nan, Kate, and Prue,
Their Hangers put on, with the rest of the Crew,
And so strait they went, about their intent,
To Ferret them out of their Garrets, they meant,
All the Taylors.

But as they did go, along the back-Row,
They met with a Snipper that well they did know;
Moll starts from the rest, and crys Friend ye are prest
He let fall his Cabbidge, and cry'd by his List,
I'm a Taylor.

A Taylor for Sea, he ne'r can fit be,
He's the ninth of a Man, then pray set me free,
But this blind excuse, nor the price of his Goose,
Did not then prevail, for, says Kate, there's much use
For a Taylor.

Tho' it's plain he's no Man, yet stitch well he can,
There's need on't at Sea, then you Rascal come on,
Then trembling full low, himself he did throw
At their feet, and did beg that they pitty would show
To a Taylor.

Pray pitty my tears, and my Bodkin and Shears,
With all the good Cabbidge I've stole many years;
Talk not of the Sea, I pray set me free,
For when did you hear that to Fight did agree
With a Taylor.

But nothing avail'd, away he was hail'd,
Nor long of more Taylors this buxome Crew fail'd,
Six more they did seize, at Small-beer and Cheese,
For well out of Cowcumber-time that agrees
With the Taylors.

At sight of this Crew, some fainted, some flew,
The Room it was scented, but all would not do;
You Soundrels, quoth Nell, date you to rebell,
Come along, and with that they to Cudgelling fell
Of the Taylors.

They cry'd out full sore, they had Children store,
And Wives to maintain, but quoth Molly give o're;
'Tis better be brave, than sit like a Slave,
Cross-legg'd on a Shopboard; but this sorrow gave
To the Taylors.

These once away sent, to th' Garrets they went,
And tho' they saw none, yet to search they were [bent]
And feeling i th' Shreads, they found out their [beds]
In Hell then for dear were hidden the Heads
Of the Tayl[ors.]

Then out from the Raggs, a Taylor each drags
O some by the Heels, and some by the Craggs,
And cry'd out away, ye Rascals, to Sea,
Fight for King and Queen, but this did not agree,
With the Tayl[ors.]

Thus eight more they got, to make up the shot,
Crys Sue, in the Chimney as yet we look'd not;
This made them look there, when strid on the B[?]
A cock-horse were riding three (half dead with fear)
Of the Tayl[ors.]

These being thus Prest, they lookt for the rest,
And quickly they pull'd 'um all out of their Nest
Compell'd them to go, with Kick and with blow,
Some cry'd and some pist, and yet all would not d[?]
For the Taylo[rs.]

They stood not to chuse, nor none did refuse,
Monsieur, Shon-a-Morgan, & Teague they did noo[?]
And more in the Trap, these Females did snap,
Until they the Twenty had fairly made up
Of all Taylors.


Printed for W. Thackeray, J. Millet, and A. Milbourn.

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