Ill-gotten Goods seldome thrive. Or, The English Antick. For Dick, that was a Miller by his Trade, Did thinke to be a swaggering roaring Blade, He bought brave Clothes, and powdered all his haire, But servd ins kind for medling with light ware. The tune is, was ever Young-man crost.
|
A Lustie Countrie Lad,
|
that lately came to Towne,
|
His pockets were so clad,
|
with many a Silver Crowne:
|
A Miller by his Trade,
|
his dwelling is at Bow,
|
A place of much resort,
|
as sundry people know:
|
But Dick the Millers Sonne,
|
that powdered all his haire,
|
Alas, he is undone,
|
by medling with light ware.
|
He bought a Perry-wig,
|
a gallant Suit of Clothes,
|
Which was bestrewd with Musk,
|
more sweeter then a Rose:
|
A Cambrick Band and Cuffs,
|
his Halfe-shirt out before,
|
His Breeches had of Ribbons
|
at least a dozen score:
|
But Dick, etc.
|
A Beaver, and a Feather
|
the Crowne did over-top,
|
With Ribbons round about,
|
like a Haberdashers-shop:
|
He bought a paire of Boots,
|
with huge and mighty Toes,
|
The size was twenty foure,
|
which peept up to his nose:
|
But Dick, etc,
|
A Rapier by his side,
|
against his Spurs did clap,
|
At last he met a Lasse,
|
that provd a cunning snap:
|
His Cloake about his middle,
|
most brave he wore the same,
|
And walking in Moore-fields,
|
he met a Venus Dame:
|
But Dick, etc.
|
She rusled in her Silke,
|
as she by him did passe,
|
And after as I heard
|
she servd him like an Asse:
|
Good morrow sir, quoth she,
|
which made young Dick amzad,
|
To see her painted face,
|
his spirits soone were raysd:
|
But Dick, etc.
|
Faire Mistris then, said Dick,
|
lets to the Taverne goe,
|
Yet like a Maiden chaste,
|
at first she answered no:
|
But Dick opprest with lust,
|
his spirits did so rise,
|
That he did her request,
|
and she no more denyes:
|
But Dick the Millers Sonne,
|
that powdered all his haire,
|
Alack, he is undone,
|
by medling with light ware.
|
IMagine how their time
|
in merryment was spent,
|
With kisses sweet and fine,
|
which Richard did content;
|
And with her apron strings
|
young Dick began to play,
|
Yet she with modest lookes
|
cryd, pish, nay fie, away:
|
But Dick the Millers Sonne,
|
that powdered all his haire,
|
Alas, he is undone,
|
by medling with light ware.
|
So smoking of his Nose,
|
and drinking store of Sack,
|
Thinking to have his will
|
but his wits began to crack:
|
So civilly to bed
|
this loving couple goes,
|
She left him fast asleepe,
|
and stole away his Clothes.
|
But Dick etc.
|
The Vintner he came up,
|
his Reckoning for to have,
|
But Dick not well awakt,
|
did call him sawcie Knave:
|
But turning round about,
|
and could no Clothes espy,
|
Then Richard soone was forcd
|
Peccavi for to cry.
|
But Dick etc.
|
The Vintner much in rage,
|
did strike him ore the face,
|
That Richard at that time
|
was in a stinking case;
|
And with his leg and feet
|
he kickt him out of doore,
|
And bid him like a Rogue
|
goe to his pocky Whoore.
|
Thus Dick etc.
|
Thus naked home he went
|
unto his Fathers Mill,
|
Where he was entertaind,
|
and doth continue still:
|
When Richard took his Tole,
|
he three times more did take,
|
To buy him other Clothes,
|
which she sold for his sake.
|
Thus Dick etc.
|
Ill gotten goods nere thrive,
|
take heed you pilferers all,
|
Lest you like strutting Dick
|
to such mischances fail:
|
Then young men have a care
|
of painted curled Locks,
|
For such, though faire above,
|
below may have the Pox.
|
But Dick the Millers Sonne,
|
that powdered all his haire,
|
Alas, he is undone,
|
by medling with light ware.
|
|
|
|
|
|