The Ranting Whores Resolution:
Wherein you will finde that her only Treasure
Consisteth in being a Lady of Pleasure.
To the Tune of, General Monks March.
|
OH! fye upon care
|
Why should wee despair,
|
Give mee the Lad that will frollick,
|
There is no disease,
|
But Musick will please,
|
If it were the stone or the cholick.
|
The Lad that drinks Wine,
|
Shall only be mine,
|
Hee that calls for a Cup of Canary,
|
That will tipple and sing,
|
Kiss, caper, and spring,
|
And calls for his Mab, and his Mary.
|
Such sinners as these
|
My pallat will please,
|
For this is a Lad that will knock it,
|
Provided hee bee
|
Not Niggard to mee,
|
But carry good gilt in his pocket;
|
I care not from whence
|
Hee gets his expence,
|
Nor how hee comes by his treasure,
|
So I have the sweets
|
When hee and I meets,
|
For I am a Lady of pleasure.
|
I love a young Heir,
|
Whose fortune is fair,
|
And frollick in Fishstreet-dinners,
|
Who boldly doth call,
|
And in private paies all,
|
These Boyes are the noble beginners,
|
For what the old Father
|
In long time did gather,
|
Hee toaps it away without measure,
|
Heel lye in my lap,
|
Like a Bird in a trap,
|
And call mee his Lady of pleasure.
|
Hee wears gallant cloaths
|
And studies new Oaths
|
and gets pretty words from the players
|
Hee swaggers and roars,
|
Hee calls the next Oars,
|
And cries, heres a peece for your fairs,
|
Thus wee in delight
|
From morning till night,
|
Do study to cast away treasure,
|
At night in my arms
|
I secure him from harms,
|
For I am a Lady of pleasure.
|
|
|
|
|
The second part to the same Tune
|
WHen this Gallants broke,
|
Ive another bespoke,
|
And hee hath my protestation,
|
I call him my Love,
|
My Jewel, my Dove,
|
And swear by my reputation,
|
That I never did know
|
What love was till now,
|
Though I have had men beyond mea-sure
|
With such tricks as these
|
All Coxcombs I please,
|
For I am a Lady of pleasure.
|
When theyre in the Jayle,
|
They wretchedly rail
|
And at mee they cast all their curses,
|
Let them laugh that win,
|
I care not a pin,
|
When I have confounded their purses,
|
While they have disgraces,
|
I know not their faces,
|
When Warriers of Woodstreet make seizure
|
But when theyr whole men
|
Il know them agen
|
For I am a Lady of pleasure.
|
I live by the quick
|
And not by the sick,
|
Or such whose estates lye a bleeding
|
My wast must be bound
|
By men that are sound,
|
For I am a Lass of high feeding
|
If once they grow poor,
|
No mony, no Whore,
|
And yet they shall wait on my leisure,
|
I only fulfil
|
My fancy and will,
|
Which shews mee a Lady of pleasure.
|
I laugh when they tell
|
Mee stories of Hell
|
I think there is no such Cavern,
|
If Heaven there be
|
(As some will tell mee)
|
I am sure it must bee in the Tavern,
|
Where there is no Wine,
|
Theres nothing divine;
|
Weel think of a grave at more leisure.
|
Boy fill th other glass
|
For I am a Lass
|
That will be a Lady of pleasure.
|
In freedome and joyes
|
Il spend all my daies,
|
For there is no greater blessing
|
Than musick and meat
|
Good Wine and the feat,
|
And nothing to pay for the dressing;
|
Let Sisters precise
|
Go turn up their eyes,
|
And speak words by line and by leisure;
|
If death come at last,
|
And take mee in haste,
|
Then there lies a Lady of pleasure.
|
|
|
|
|