Shameless JOAN:
OR, THE
Old Woman of Finsbury,
WHO
Went through the City upon all four, with a lighted Candle in
her Back-side, and scar'd the Watch who was amaz'd at that dismal sight.
To the Tune of, Jealous Lover.
Licensed according to Order.
|
YOu that in merriment delight,
|
Pray listen well to what I write,
|
It i[s] a pleasant Jest you'll find,
|
To cure a melancholly Mind:
|
As I upon the Watch did stand,
|
With Staff and Lanthorn in my hand,
|
A frightful Creature there I see,
|
Which fore amaz'd and startel'd me.
|
It seem'd to have four sprawling Feet,
|
On which it crawl'd along the Street,
|
And towards me at length it came,
|
Breathing as 'twere, a burning-flame.
|
This Creature was array'd in cloaths,
|
A huge broad Face, but ne'r a Nose,
|
Nor any Eyes could I behold,
|
The Heart within my Bre[a]st was cold.
|
The brawny Cheeks did me surprize,
|
They being of the larger size,
|
Then I had seen in all my days,
|
I for a while did stand and gaze.
|
What course to tak[e] I could not tell,
|
Thought I it is some Fiend of Hell,
|
That came to scare and frighten us,
|
With courage then I answer'd thus:
|
I am a Watchman at my Post,
|
Therefore if thou art Hag or Ghost,
|
Or a Hobgobling, or Night-mare,
|
Speak up, quoth I, Friend, who comes there?
|
Shameless, the Apparition cry'd,
|
Immediately I then reply'd,
|
I'll quit my Post since it is so,
|
E'en shameless come, and shameless go.
|
Me thought a humane Voice I hear'd,
|
Althou[g]h an ill shap'd thing appear'd.
|
Therefore to the main Watch I run,
|
Crying out, Friends, we're all undone.
|
The Watch cry'd out, What do you mean?
|
Saith I, Old Satan I have seen,
|
He is approaching to this place,
|
With flaming fire in his face.
|
This said we went to meet him then,
|
With staves and clubs full twenty Men;
|
At length this Devil prov'd to be,
|
Old drunken Joan of Finsbury.
|
Who being in an Ale-house late,
|
Not very far from Bishops-gate,
|
Had laid a Wager of a Crown,
|
That she would cross fair London-town
|
When each was sleeping fast in Bed,
|
Her Coats and Smock thrown o're her head,
|
She backward was oblig'd to crawl,
|
Upon her hands nay feet and all:
|
Accordingly away she went,
|
And in her brawny Fundament,
|
A lighted Candle plac'd must be,
|
Which was a dreadful sight to see.
|
Joan won the Wager, for she past
|
A-cross the City, and at last
|
Meeting the Watch, she turn'd about
|
And fairly blew her Candle out.
|
Home she return'd without delay,
|
There was good laughing the next day
|
At the poor Watchman, who declar'd
|
He ne'r before had been so scar'd.
|
Upon her Hands and Feet she come,
|
Explosing of her naked Bum,
|
In which there stuck a Candle lighted,
|
This would the hardest Man affrighted.
|
Kind Neighbours, this was William Green
|
By whom this dismal sight was seen;
|
The Woman's Name is known to be,
|
Old Shameless Joan of Finsbury.
|
|
|
|
|
|